Scarred Souls

*****************************************************



Title: Scarred Souls



Author: Misty Moonlight/Co-author: QueenBoadicea



Beta: QueenBoadicea



Pairings: Severus/Harry



Published: 12/10/2008



Summary: A widowed Harry must bond with Snape in order to save his daughter’s life. Sev gains a family, for better or worse, and the hearts of two scarred souls will be changed forever.



Warnings: Romance, Drama, Angst, Alternate Reality/Universe, Sexual Situations, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash, Anal, Language, Humor, possible MPreg, Bonding, Original Characters, Family, non-canon, OOC, WIP



*****************************************************



Chapter 30: This Isn’t What I Had in Mind





Evidently that was all Pomfrey needed to hear. Now that she knew what was wrong with Severus, she became quick and businesslike.



“He’s soaked with sweat. So we’ll need to get his clothes off him and bathe his body. Since you and he have already been intimate, I assume this won’t be a problem for you,” she added, staring coolly at Harry.



He thought his face was warming but he managed to nod without looking away. Pomfrey began rattling off a series of instructions and he sprang into action.



He filled the tub in the second largest bathroom on the second floor. That would make it easier to reach the man’s body. Harry then stripped his bond mate using magic. He could have commanded Kreacher to do it but he didn’t trust that Snape would be safe in the house-elf’s hands.



He looked at the ashen body floating in the water. Pomfrey had advised him to let Snape wake up naturally on his own. He clearly needed rest and natural sleep was the best way to give it to him.



Maybe it was best that Severus wasn’t awake for this. The man would have insisted on bathing himself or made any number of snide insinuating comments while Harry did it.



“Okay. I can do this. It’s not like I haven’t seen him naked before,” he muttered. Using a small charm to make sure the taller man didn’t sink into the tub, Harry began methodically washing him from the feet upwards. As the moments passed, he began to relax minutely.



Without those dark eyes glaring at him, Harry was free to explore his bond mate’s body in a way he hadn’t anticipated. The feet were narrow and slender, with delicate toes almost like fingers, reminding him of the man’s hands when he prepared potions during class. He’d often admired the way Severus’s hands moved, even if he could never have brought himself to tell him so.



The legs were long, sleek and supple; the memory of how he’d brushed his hands over them and commented on their strength caused his face to flush. He tried to thrust thoughts of his uninhibited sexual encounter with the man out of his mind. But it was impossible. Every brush of the washcloth, every soft inch of flesh, every bob of the flaccid cock in the water pulled a vivid image from his memory.



He pushed himself to complete the job, managing not to linger on any part of Severus’s body. When he got to the man’s hair, however, hurry was out of the question. The strands, fanning out in the water like a lily pad, demanded that he pay careful attention to make certain they were as thoroughly clean as the rest of him.



Harry couldn’t help carding his hands through the strands, breathing heavily as each individual hair coiled around his fingers. It was incredibly sensual, far more so than touching his bond mate’s body was. He cupped Severus’ skull, soaping carefully to remove any tangles. The hairs clung to him, like Severus’s hands had clung to him, pressing the man’s body against Harry’s, while frantic begging had poured from the Slytherin’s mouth.



To his embarrassment, Harry’s cock hardened in his trousers and he wished he’d thought to wear wizarding robes. He willed it away by thinking of the most disgusting potions ingredients imaginable, like flobberworms.



The man in the bath gave a soft groan and Harry started, sloshing liquid out of the tub. He immediately Banished it with a Drying Charm and levitated Severus from the water. Working with a brisk efficiency that would have done Madam Pomfrey proud, he managed with a few twists of his wand to get Severus dry, dressed in a body-length nightshirt and floating out the door. The man was in his own bed, blanket tucked up to his chin, without any jostling whatsoever.



Severus knew something was wrong. He was waking up much too slowly and a lethargic sensation was dragging at his body like he’d trekked up a mountain in improper shoes and now his every muscle was paying the price.



There was another person hovering in the vicinity. Severus could sense the unknown watching him with unnerving attention. He wanted to Summon his wand but was aware that the movement would betray his awakened state. A hand was laid over his, warm and moist to the touch. He just barely kept himself from flinching at it.



“Severus? Are you awake? Answer me. It’s me, Harry.”



Well, who else was it likely to be? That voice definitely didn’t belong to the house-elf and Kreacher wouldn’t have called him by his first name in any case.



“Severus, we need to talk. I thought you wanted me to but you haven’t responded to any of my owls.”



Owls? Harry had sent messages? He hadn’t seen any. His suspicion immediately turned to that pathetic excuse for a servant. So great was his fury that he nearly missed what Harry said next.



“Um, something has come up with you…something really…well, I’d rather tell you while you’re awake. If you’re shamming, that’s not very mature and it’s not going to help either of us. So, please, if you can hear me, open your eyes.”



Severus wanted to continue with the charade just a little longer, in the hope that Harry might reveal his true feelings. But the man had become obstinately silent and he decided it was time to have that talk for which he’d been impatiently waiting.



He stretched his arms and legs slightly, the way he’d observed other people did when they awoke. His eyes fluttered open and blinked at the light. He let his eyelids droop again, to give the impression of rousing lethargy. This gave him the opportunity to peek at Harry without allowing the man see into his eyes.



His bond mate looked good, a tight Muggle T-shirt stretched across his pectorals, bringing the muscles into soft relief. The inner vision of Harry’s naked body looming above his own was so sharp, desire trickled over his skin in a wave like he’d been submerged in a stream of rain run-off.



He was going to get aroused and that simply wouldn’t do. It was safer to look into the man’s eyes and Severus did so. The answering smile was so brilliant it was as if the sun had come out.



“Good, you’re awake.”



“You’re stating the obvious.” Severus stopped, dismayed at the hoarseness of his voice. It sounded rusty from disuse. How long had he been sleeping? Or was this from something more ominous than sleep?



“Don’t talk too much. I found you passed out on the couch. Severus…” Now Harry looked really nervous. While he didn’t mind having Gryffindors off balance, there was a clenched sensation deep in Severus’ stomach that told him this wasn’t going to be good.



“Spit it out, Potter. Melodrama doesn’t suit you.”



Harry started speaking really fast as though the news would be easier that way. “Um, I got Madam Pomfrey here—”



“What? Potter, you really are an idiot!” he grated. “Just because you found me sleeping on the couch, you decide I need medical attention?”



Harry hurried on, clearly irked by his anger. “You wouldn’t wake up and, after what Hermione told me, I got scared…”



“Oh, another of your Gryffindor playmates has been dragged into this mess, Potter? If I find a sea of ginger hair waiting for me downstairs, I am going to hex you!” Severus croaked.



“Will you shut up and let me finish?” Harry didn’t yell but he was very close to it. “I told Hermione about your convulsions and she insisted on analyzing that medicine of yours. She said it’s dangerous to be taking it for so long the way you’ve been doing. I wanted to get in touch with you right away and warn you.”



He ran his hand through his hair, messing it up even more than usual. “But the twins picked up Dragon Pox from George’s little boy and I had to get them tended to. I couldn’t watch over them myself because I’ve never had it and adults are susceptible if they haven’t been infected in childhood. I sent you owls about what Hermione told me and warning you to stay away from the cottage. Since you never came, I assumed you got them. But you never answered either so…” His voice trailed away and green eyes flicked over Severus’s face and body.



Harry had been worried about him? Enough so that he’d called on people to help him: Poppy Pomfrey, Hermione Granger-Weasley. Well, he couldn’t fault him for that. At least his bond mate was looking out for him. But there was a deeper worry in those green eyes, one that had Harry glancing repeatedly at his stomach.



Severus wanted to hit the man but he really didn’t feel up to it. “Potter, you remain as transparent as ever. Obviously, there’s something else that’s bothering you.”



“You’re pregnant, Severus,” Harry blurted.



Severus stared at him. The news was so ridiculous he was stunned into silence. Harry didn’t look crazy. But why would he say something like this?



“Did you say that I’m…pregnant?” Severus asked faintly.



Harry nodded. His eyes darted to Severus’s abdomen again.



Bile suddenly surged up. He clapped his hand over his mouth. To his horror, gagging noises bubbled in his throat.



Harry seemed to understand. His wand came out and a bucket appeared in thin air. It barely landed on the floor next to the bed before Severus heaved into it. Thanks to his earlier bout of nausea, little came out except a thin spittle. But that didn’t negate the shudders racking his body.



A hand was stroking down his back and another held back his hair. This was awful. The last thing he desired was for his bond mate to see him so weak. He wanted to lash out and scream at Harry to get away. But he lacked the strength. Severus sagged back on to the bed and dimly registered that Harry was wiping a warm damp cloth over his face.



“It’s okay, Severus.” The murmuring voice was calm and restful; he could detect no censor in it. When he fastened bleary eyes on Harry, he saw no amusement at his pain. Instead, there was a glow of sympathy and a kind of awe he didn’t understand.



“Leave,” he croaked.



“What? Wait, Severus, we need to talk about this.”



“I said LEAVE.” He put as much ferocity into his glare as he could manage.



Wounded reproach appeared. “Fine. I’ll—just get Pomfrey up here to look at you.” Harry stood up stiffly and marched towards the door. He gave Severus a single unreadable glance before letting it shut quietly behind him.



Good. Severus much preferred Poppy’s bustling efficiency to misplaced pity. He had wanted Harry here but not like this.



Merlin’s balls, why did everything happen to him?



********************************************************************



Poppy was disgustingly pragmatic about the whole affair, more so than he wanted. “Severus, Harry’s a healthy young man and you’re not old…at least not for a wizard.”



“I know that!” he snapped.



“Then I can’t see why you’re at all surprised that you got pregnant.”



“I’m not surprised. It’s just that this is highly inconvenient. It doesn’t fit in with my plans at all!” he groused.



“Pregnancy rarely does unless the couple has been trying for it.” She must have noted the rigidity of his features. “Oh dear. Are you telling me neither of you wanted this to happen?”



“Potter did promise to love any children from our union unconditionally,” he murmured evasively.



“Well, I don’t see the problem then. I know Harry will make a wonderful father.” She said nothing about his own abilities in that sphere.



“There’s another matter. I understand you’ve been taking some experimental potion to relieve the pain from your snakebites. Don’t give me that look, Severus Snape! Harry was quite right to tell me. You may be a fine Potions master but that doesn’t equate to knowing everything about how the human body works!” she scolded.



“I think I know my own body better than you do, woman!”



“Oh, so falling unconscious and violent mood changes resulting from your medicinal intake are perfectly acceptable side effects, are they?” she retorted scathingly.



“The medicine merely needs adjusting, that’s all,” he muttered.



“There will be no ‘adjusting’, as you put it,” Poppy snapped at him. “You’re not going to be taking it at all! It’s having an adverse reaction on your physical and mental well being and there’s no telling what it will do to your child.”



His child. There was something very final in the way she said it, with a far more convincing tone than Harry had managed. The Gryffindor had mentioned his pregnancy like it was a miraculous event, akin to the hatching of a phoenix egg. But, for Poppy, it was clearly business as usual.



He swallowed and sagged back against the pillow. “Very well. I won’t take the potions. But the pain from my wounds needs to be dealt with,” he pointed out.



“You shouldn’t be feeling pain at all, not after so many years. I’ll have to consult with other medi-wizards and medi-witches to get a better grip on the problem.”



“I refuse! Other people can’t be trusted with this kind of sensitive information. Merlin’s beard, woman, you know that I still have enemies out there, people who would be only too delighted to strike when they know I’m defenseless!” He tried to push himself up from the bed only to be forced down by her firm hand on his chest.



“Goodness, I’ve never met a man more paranoid than you! Well, there was Alastor Moody, but I was never personally acquainted with him—thank goodness,” she sighed. “Severus, do you really think anything can happen to you here in a fortified Slytherin mansion, with Harry at your side? He’ll take care of you. You should have seen how worried he was when he brought me here.”



“Potter’s state of mind—”



“Why do you insist on calling him Potter, Severus? And he was calling you Snape,” she mused, staring at him quizzically. “It was my belief that the two of you had buried your differences, given your condition.”



He opened his mouth and then hesitated. She thought he and Harry were romantically involved? Then Harry hadn’t told her about Severus’s ignoble actions that had resulted in his very unwelcome state. His bond mate had remained silent, shielding him from Poppy’s righteous anger. That uncomfortable, uneasy emotion—shame—coiled through his stomach, leaving him almost as sick as before.



This wasn’t Harry’s fault. It was his own. He had drugged the boy, gotten swept up in the ecstasy of the sex and failed to take the proper precautions. If pregnancy had resulted from their actions, he had expected Harry to be the one afflicted. He’d been truly hoist by his own petard and he had no one to blame for it but himself.



“You’re right, Poppy. I haven’t been quite fair to Po-Harry. This whole situation has thrown me rather badly and I’m afraid I took it out on him.”



She nodded, mollified by his explanation. “That’s quite all right, Severus. You wouldn’t be the first carrier who blamed the spouse for getting her pregnant. You wouldn’t believe the stories I’ve heard of women screaming at their husbands while in labor, declaring that they’ll never let the men touch them again.”



A wave of dizziness, akin to horror, swept through him. He was going to have to go through labor? He wasn’t going to spared anything, was he?



Poppy noted his distress. “Severus, trust me. You’ll be fine. Male pregnancy is rare but not unheard of among wizards. I’ll instruct Harry on everything he needs to do. You’ll be in good hands.” She patted him on the shoulder. He made no reaction to it, still reeling at the horrid image of himself undergoing labor pangs.



“Shall I send Harry in? He was looking rather low when he told me to come up, poor lamb. I hope you haven’t been too hard on him, Severus.”



Hard on Harry? Was she forgetting Severus was the one who was pregnant here? Even though he was the one in discomfort, everyone insisted on pouring sympathy on that damned Boy Who Refused to Die!



The abrupt shift in his feelings from shame to fury, and about the same target, left him shaken. Perhaps Harry and Poppy were right; such extremes of emotion were not normal, certainly not for him.



He swallowed his pride. “Poppy, Harry has told me that he brought my difficulties with my potion to Mrs. Granger-Weasley’s attention. It might be prudent to allow her assistance in this matter.”



“Excellent notion, Severus. Well, I must talk to Harry. Don’t fret. You’ll get through this just fine.”



“I’m glad you’re so sanguine about the matter,” he muttered, allowing his petulance to show.



She merely smiled at him and patted him on the shoulder again. The patronizing gesture made his teeth ache but it was easy to ignore when the Gryffindor came barreling in almost before she’d opened the door. Had the man been eavesdropping? No wonder his children were so ill behaved if this was the example Potter—no, he had to call him Harry, didn’t he?—set for them.



Severus closed his eyes, trying to get his yawing emotions under control. They flew open again when he felt Harry’s hand stroking along his face. “Severus? I’m going to take care of you. I just have to make a few arrangements with my children. I can’t leave them at the cottage alone and shuttling back and forth between my two homes isn’t practical. I’ll keep them out of your hair as much as possible,” he added hastily.



That was the last thing he wanted, tripping over those Potter urchins. Well, there was nothing to be done about it, he supposed. “Just as long as you keep them out of my room, Po-Harry.”



There was that blinding smile again. If he didn’t know better, he’d think that Harry liked that he was pregnant and that simply couldn’t be. Hadn’t the man stated he was perfectly happy with his family as it was?



It seemed his bonded state with Harry was going to be one endless round of surprises and shocks to the system. You would think his time spent with a maniacal Dark Lord would have enabled Severus to handle anything. Then again, pregnancy had never been something Voldemort could have thrown his way.



Severus settled back in the cushions. Harry and Poppy were discussing arrangements of some kind or other but he couldn’t be bothered to put in any commentary. He drifted away, only vaguely aware of them tiptoeing out of his bedchamber.





TBC