Proof of Life

Frailty



Two weeks after Harry had won the silencing charm argument with Severus, the two of them had settled into a new routine. Severus woke up several times at night. Harry met him downstairs, made tea, and they sat together quietly, until Severus was ready to go back to bed.



Harry knew that even those quiet times constituted progress, because Severus stopped pretending to be wide awake during the day, and cat-napped quietly on the couch in the late afternoons and evenings. Harry still wished Severus would talk more – even if it were to simply scream and rage about something. Anything would be better than the numb, tense silence that hung between them each time Harry asked Severus how he was doing.



~ * ~



“How are you doing?” Harry asked yet again, sliding an obligatory mug of tea towards Severus.



“I wish you\'d stop asking that question,” Severus said, sounding short on patience.



“I\'m concerned about you,” Harry said evenly.



Severus glared at him.



“Potter, I realize that I\'m in your debt, and as far as the laws of the wizarding world are concerned, there\'s no part of me that you aren\'t entitled to, but would you please, for the love of Merlin, permit me to have something that\'s mine alone?”



“Sorry,” Harry promptly apologized. “You\'re right. I won\'t badger you.”



Severus sighed deeply, and shook his head. “No, Potter... I apologize... That was uncalled for. I shouldn\'t have said that.”



“It\'s ok,” Harry said softly. “You don\'t need to worry about picking the right words with me.” Harry reached across the table, wanting to take the man\'s hand in his. To his surprise, Severus withdrew his hand quickly.



“Don\'t,” Severus said in a barely audible voice. “Potter, I know you want to help, but - don\'t do... that.”



“I thought...”



“I know what you thought,” Severus snapped. “You can calm me with a single touch, and you have successfully done so in the past. But this is something I need to start managing on my own.”



“Why? Why are you so insistent on managing everything on your own?”



“Because I\'ve found over the years that once you come to depend on something, and it is no longer available, the dearth is a great deal more noticeable and profound.”



Harry blinked, suddenly uncertain of what Severus was trying to tell him. “Come again?”



“Do I need to spell everything out for you? Your pitying, patronizing touches will not be always available. I will not be living with you for the rest of my life, Potter. And I have no intention of becoming accustomed to something that is a near equivalent of a powerful narcotic, delivered directly to my nervous system. Is that clear enough for you?”



Harry bowed his head, knowing that Severus was right. Eventually, their lives would diverge, and the impossible, unrealistic intimacy of their current arrangement would wane as well. But still, knowing that Severus had a valid point didn\'t make it any easier to accept it... If Harry were to be completely honest with himself, he\'d have to admit that he\'d gotten used to being able to soothe his friend with nothing but a simple embrace, and make everything all right, if only briefly.



Countertransference. At this point, Harry had read enough of Marietta\'s books to know what it meant: the process by which the healer\'s own emotional needs and desires begin to flow back into the therapeutic relationship. Harry smiled ruefully.



“Sorry,” he said peacefully. “I suppose I got used to being needed.”



“It\'d serve you well to remember that not everything is about you!” Severus hissed at him, and a moment later, waved his hand dismissively. “I\'m sorry again, Potter. I wish you\'d stop trying to initiate conversation with me. I may be permanently incapable of... good manners.”



Harry let out an amused chuckle. “Good manners are overrated. In general, I much prefer people like you.”



“People like me,” Severus said, his voice thick with disbelief. “People who snap at you with little to no provocation?”



Harry shrugged, still smiling. “At least I\'ll always know where I stand with you.”



“You don\'t,” Severus said very quietly. “You\'ll never understand how much it means – even though it shouldn\'t – how much it means, being able to wake up to knowing that you\'re in the house, that you\'re near, that you\'re still willing to tolerate...”



“I\'m not tolerating anything,” Harry interrupted him, because he sensed that Severus was about to start speaking ill of himself, and not wanting the conversation to go in that direction. “I\'m hanging out with you because I like you. It\'s really not much more complicated than that.”



Severus snorted derisively. “I think the cabin fever has finally set in for you, Potter. You need to get out more.”



Harry gave him a long look, before saying, “You know, quite possibly, for the first time in my life, I\'m simply doing what I feel like. I feel like spending time with you.”



“Why?” Severus demanded with sudden venom entering his voice again. “I realize, it must be incredibly entertaining to watch me like this – weak and useless – but even with your pathetic social life, you could find something else to amuse yourself with.”



Slightly stunned by the fact that somehow Severus had managed to insult both of them in one breath, Harry opened his mouth to respond, but Severus shook his head.



“Never mind, Potter. Don\'t answer that. In fact, don\'t say anything at all, unless you want another argument on your hands. I\'m going to bed.”



Severus stood up and stalked out of the kitchen without casting a single glance back.



~ * ~



Harry didn\'t get any sleep after that strained, angry conversation took place, not that he tried.



When morning came, Harry went to the Burrow to spend time with Lily. Ginny was away for Quidditch practice again, and Lily pounced on Harry, squealing with delight the moment he walked through the door. “We\'re going to play Exploding Snap, and then, chess, and then, I\'m going to read to you!” she declared happily, tugging on Harry\'s sleeve, getting him to sit down on the carpet next to him. “And grandpa and grandma got a new dog!”



“That\'s very nice,” Harry said peacefully, feeling absolutely worn out by the string of sleepless nights spent with antisocial Snape. He stretched out on the carpet and sighed blissfully. “Tell you what, though, just read to me first. I don\'t think I can focus on the game right now.”



“Why not?” Lily demanded, poking him in the side.



“Ow. I\'m tired, that\'s why.”



“Why are you tired?” Lily continued the interrogation.



“My friend is sick,” Harry explained quietly, reaching for Lily\'s tiny hand. “He\'s not sleeping well. I\'m keeping him company. Just like mum and I kept you company when you were teething. Same thing.”



Lily\'s face scrunched up slightly. “Is Sev\'rus teething?” she asked hesitantly.



“Well,” Harry mused. “Hmm. He does have more bite than usual, so maybe he is. Now, what was that book you were going to read to me?”



~ * ~



He woke up in the late afternoon, lying on his back on the carpeted floor of the Burrow\'s living room with Lily, sound asleep as well, curled up next to him, and Molly\'s new dog, a brown, shaggy mutt, licking his hair. The book that Lily had started to read to him was lying on the carpet, opened on the first page.



Harry sat up abruptly, and rubbed his eyes.



He heard a quiet, barely audible snicker, turned his head and saw Hermione sitting on the couch, curled into herself, watching him and Lily with a small smile on her lips.



“I\'ll be right back,” Harry said, picking Lily up from the floor. She stirred slightly in his arms but didn\'t wake.



“Don\'t you dare bark,” Harry said to the dog meaningfully, and went upstairs to carry Lily to her bedroom.



He tucked her in and kissed her brow, and Lily smiled in her sleep. Even though he was now spending more time with her than ever before, Harry missed having his daughter in the same house, missed it so much that even missing Ginny seemed dull in comparison.



He sighed slightly, and shut the bedroom door, before heading downstairs.



“What brings you over?” Harry asked, sitting down on the couch across from Hermione.



Hermione smiled again. “Molly and Arthur took Rose to Muggle London. Ron is going to be working late tonight, so...” she shrugged slightly. “I thought I\'d drop by and see how you and Lily are doing.”



“I\'m fine,” Harry said, covering his mouth to suppress a hearty yawn. “I\'m a terrible father, that\'s all.”



Hermione shook her head slightly. “Nonsense, Harry. You\'re a wonderful father.”



“I fell asleep while my daughter was reading to me,” Harry complained.



“But you\'re spending time with her,” Hermione pointed out. “And you\'re tired, because you\'re taking care of your friend. And she\'s growing up knowing she\'s loved, and learning how to be compassionate...”



“I\'m not exactly doing a wonderful job with Severus either,” Harry muttered. “You know, for a while there, everything was going so well, and now... He keeps waking up in the middle of the night. He\'s remembering things... I think... but doesn\'t want to talk about any of it.”



Hermione nodded slowly in understanding. “What else?”



“That\'s it, really,” Harry said, trying not to feel too miserable about Severus\' pulling away from a simple friendly gesture last night. “He\'s angry. And he just wants to be left alone.”



“Won\'t let you touch him?” Hermione guessed.



“Mmhm.”



“That, in itself, isn\'t a bad thing,” Hermione mused. “He\'s reasserting his personal space. His right to exclude others. And given his experiences, I don\'t imagine he\'ll want to be pawed...”



“I wasn\'t pawing him!” Harry snapped irritably. “I just thought – after all the shit he\'s been through, a friendly touch might be a welcome change of pace.”



“Sometimes it is, and sometimes it isn\'t,” Hermione murmured quietly, appearing absorbed in her own thoughts.



Harry stared at her intently, surprised by the slightly withdrawn look on her face, the kind he hadn\'t seen in years.



“Hermione?” he asked gently. “What is it?”



She sniffled quietly, and almost childishly. “Remember the Manor?” she asked softly. “When Bellatrix had me, and...” she hesitated slightly, as if not sure whether or not she should continue.



“When Bellatrix was torturing you. Yes, of course I remember,” Harry said quietly. They had talked about it at length a number of times, of course, but it seemed that Hermione was going to say something that he hadn\'t heard before.



Hermione nodded and spoke again.



“There was this one time, where Bellatrix took a break from the Cruciatus, and just stared at me, and smiled. And I felt like I couldn\'t handle much more of that - I thought I really was going to die, you understand,” Hermione added, as if trying to explain something that she hadn\'t said yet. “And then, she, uh, she started petting my hair. And kissed me on the forehead.” Hermione\'s face contorted into a disgusted grimace. “And I was so – out of it, that I just...” she bit her lip before continuing, “I just closed my eyes and pretended that I was back home, that I was five years old, and my mum was kissing my head and getting ready to brush my hair...” Hermione\'s eyes darted in Harry\'s direction, as if, against her better judgement, she half-expected him to scold her. “And after that, once the war was over, everything was fine, but then, Ron kissed me on the forehead once, and I freaked out, and then I couldn\'t get it out of my head. Bellatrix, that is. I kept thinking about it all the time... For about three months, I didn\'t let anyone touch me at all, well, you remember, I\'m sure. You and Ginny were coming over every day, trying to find out what exactly was wrong with me.” Hermione smiled ruefully. “It\'s not that it didn\'t feel good – when Ron was trying to hug me and such - it felt good in the moment, but I\'d hate myself afterwards. I guess I didn\'t want to remember how pathetic I\'d been, you know?”



Harry bit his lip, more than anything wanting to scream in outrage, or maybe wanting to bring Bellatrix back to life and kill her all over again. Somehow, he managed to suppress an enraged outburst, and said firmly, “Hermione, you were far, far from pathetic. You were a hero. Come on, an eighteen year old girl, captured by one of the nastiest Death Eaters in Wizarding history...”



Hermione nodded in agreement. “I know that. In retrospect, I guess I did all right, where the war is concerned. It\'s all right now, really, just back then...” She shrugged slightly. “I\'m sorry,” she added in an almost normal tone of voice. “Where were we? We were talking about Snape, I believe. Anyway, this is normal. The nightmares, the anger, him wanting to be left alone. Given how he spent the last seven years, something like this was bound to happen sooner or later.”



“But why now?” Harry protested. “He was doing reasonably well, and I thought things were going to get better once I quit my job and stopped being a moody prat all the time... but instead of helping matters, I think I just made things worse somehow!”



“I really don\'t think so,” Hermione said softly. “Maybe once you were home all the time, and stopped being a moody prat, as you put it, his unconscious decided it was safe for some things that had been suppressed for a long time to re-emerge. I don\'t think it\'s a coincidence that his magic re-emerged around the same time as well.”



“Hmm.” Harry sighed. “I hope you\'re right.” He glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed slightly. “I guess Ginny will be returning any moment. I\'ll clear out before she comes back...”



Hermione\'s face acquired a sad expression once again.



“I\'m so sorry, Harry,” she said sincerely. “I know you hoped you two would work things out...”



“Yes, thanks,” Harry said with a small shrug. “You know, after all of the shit we\'ve been through during the war, it never occurred to me that we\'d be getting a divorce one day.”



Hermione nodded thoughtfully. “Strange, isn\'t it. You\'d think once the war was over, everything would be just fine, hmm?”



“I never thought that,” Harry said morosely, standing up. “You can win the war, but I don\'t think you can ever end it. Not really.”



“What a terrible thing to say, Harry,” Hermione protested weakly, rising to her feet again to give him a small hug. She sniffed the air around him and sighed. “You\'ve got dog drool in your hair, you know?”



Harry issued a small, unhappy chuckle. “May it be our greatest worry for years to come.”



To Be Continued...