Worthy

*~ Disclaimer ~* I do not own any of the characters, language, plots, or locations from Harry Potter.
J. K. Rowling, the writer, holds all rights to Harry Potter and this story is only created for pleasure, not profit.

Summary: Death, battle, pain, facing your fears, saving the world… the Wizarding World expected the Boy-Who-Lived to endure it all. But what if he can’t? Who will be there to save the boy-who-only-wanted-to-be-normal? … Post-HBP, Pre-DH

Author’s Note: Sorry for the delay. Just finished the 7th book. Hope to finish this story before November. Probably going to be around 15 chapters. Have decided to just focus on one story at a time. Wish me luck, thanks for the reviews.


Worthy
Chapter Seven

A row of potions was displayed across the table as the testimony to Snape’s attempts to distract himself. Hours had gone by and it was now late evening, and Snape was irked to find that he was tired once more. With so much of his magic being used to balance Potter, he supposed that it wasn’t surprising to find that it would tax him steadily. But that didn’t change the fact that it was annoying.

Raising a hand to his chest, Snape rubbed a little at the ache that he could still feel from the bond. The bond wasn’t as painful as it was from outside the door, but having stayed in the sitting room as far away as he could remain comfortably, it was beginning to tell. However, Snape was resolute that he wouldn’t venture any nearer to the young wizard unless it became painful or until his own sleeping arrangements could be brought in. Potter had continued to sleep soundly throughout the afternoon and Snape had not bothered to change the room as yet. But he had his last potion simmering where it would have to linger until tomorrow and there was little else to do. Snape was beginning to wonder whether or not he should just go ahead with the room expansion when a noise alerted him to Potter’s awakening.

A slight groan and rustling sheets were heard and Snape saw Potter sit up in the bed with a dazed expression. Looking around, the young wizard seemed to take in his surroundings once more in the new perspective of candlelight. He caught sight of Snape in the sitting room and lowered his gaze to the bedspread.

“Good evening, Professor Snape,” he said softly.

“Good evening,” Snape returned stiffly. “I will be rearranging the room now so that we have appropriate accommodations for our time here.” Not waiting for a response, Snape called out for Dot and she arrived with a bow.

“At your service, Master Snape,” she chirped. She looked over and saw Potter sitting up. With a grin, Dot added, “At your service, Master Harry.”

“Dot,” Snape continued, “I will be opening this room into the Master Suite and changing the wards to encompass both together. I would like you to make certain that the Manor cooperates and the signature magic around the rooms remain stable. Is there any additional magic that I need to be aware of?”

Dot considered, “The magical purposes of the rooms are different, Master Snape. Would Master Snape like the Master Suite or the East Suite to be first priority?”

Snape thought about it for a moment. The Master Suite would give the room a higher grade of protective magic and considering that he would be restricted here, security would be a factor. The East Suite, however, being a guest suite, would have magic that would restrict any guest from activity that would not be approved by the master of the manor. Considering Potter was here, it would be a bonus to have that additional control over the young wizard. However, Snape remembered, he was technically bonded to Potter and that magic would probably not recognize Potter as simply a guest. Curse technicalities, anyway.

“The Master Suite will have first priority,” Snape decided. “Anything else?”

Dot smiled, and Snape was beginning to have a creeping dread that she was enjoying this far too much. “No, Master Snape. The change should go smoothly.”

“Very well. Let’s begin.” Snape walked over to the wall adjoined to the Master Suite. Raising his wand, he activated the charms that recognized him as the master of the manor and disabled the wards separating the rooms. Walking steadily back and forth in front of the wall, he shot off a series of spells that allowed the physical wall to be removed as well as merging the magical boundaries of the rooms. In the time that it took, Snape was unnerved to feel Potter’s stare on his back as he worked. He tried to concentrate solely on the walls, but some part of the bond must alert him to Potter’s activities to some extent. With Potter’s focus on him, the magical cord around his chest seemed to tingle and catch his attention. He inwardly sighed. Even silent, Potter remained a distracting nuisance.

Snape completed the first task of merging the rooms and considered what new wards would be best to place around the room for their temporary seclusion. He placed a spell that would alert him whenever anyone entered the East Wing of the manor, knowing that he could allow for the house elves to handle the remainder of the manor. Next were several isolation spells that partially cut off the suite from even the hallway. Snape swooped over to the fireplace and deactivated the receiving Floo system. He left the departing Floo available, just in case something should go wrong.

Looking down the now long room, Snape repressed a sigh and moved towards the master’s side where his comfortable bed was waiting for him. Using so many charms and wards had taxed him more than he had expected, most likely because his magic was going towards stabilizing Potter. Now, after securing the room, Snape could feel as much relief as it was possible to feel in his situation and finally take his rest. Halfway to his bed, the bond tugged at him and Snape ignored it. A few steps further and he could feel the bond pull taut. By the time he made it to the bed, his chest felt as though it was trapped in a vise, but he stubbornly lay down and attempted to forget it.

Closing his eyes, however, seemed to only increase Snape’s awareness of the connection. He almost seemed to visualize the cord wrapped around him and stretching off across the room. It wasn’t long before he heard labored breaths from the other side of the suite. More determined to get some sleep, Snape began reciting potion ingredients in his head until he heard Dot’s concerned voice.

“Master Harry, Master Harry! Is Master Harry alright?”

“I’m… okay, Dot,” Snape heard Potter gasp out. “Don’t… worry, …’kay?”

Snape frowned. A little discomfort is not life-threatening. Potter would not get any better for Snape losing sleep. The deep breaths continued until they filled Snape’s ears. He finally opened his eyes and looked to the side to see Dot hovering over Potter and shooting anxious glances in his direction. Once she caught his gaze she turned on a pleading look.

With an angry shove, Snape sat upright and took out his wand once more. He started walking towards Potter, step by step until he felt the bond ease up and Potter began taking normal breaths. Then he levitated the bed over so that it was about ten feet away from the young wizard. Without a word, Snape lay back down and ignored the quiet “Thank you, professor” that echoed into his sleep.

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Upon waking, Snape was immediately alert to two voices speaking quietly off to the side. Of course, Dot and Potter. Sitting up, he rubbed his temples and looked over to the now hushed house elf and young wizard on the next bed. It was fairly dark, with only a low lamplight over by Potter and the light of the full moon coming through the window.

Dot moved quickly over to Snape. “At your service, Master Snape.”

“Yes, yes,” Snape waved a hand, irritated. “Perhaps something to eat?”

“Yes, Master Snape!” Dot chirped, used to his moods and happy to be doing something for Snape. She popped away and Snape was left to the uncomfortable awareness of Potter’s indirect scrutiny. The other wizard would stare at him and then move his gaze whenever Snape glared back. Snape, however, was not feeling inclined to be accommodating.

“What is it, Potter?” he spat out, hoping to incite Potter’s anger so that he would have something to lash out at. He was never very good after waking.

“Well, sir…” Potter began, hesitantly. “You didn’t manage to sleep for very long. Perhaps it would be a good idea to rest more…”

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Potter,” he growled out.

“Of course, sir,” Potter agreed mildly. Potter being agreeable, Snape definitely needed some nutrients because he was surely hallucinating. He itched for Potter to say more in his usual idiotic manner so that he may have the excuse to strangle the young wizard, or at least verbally abuse him. Potter remained silent, however, and only increased Snape’s irritation. Why was the brat not behaving as he should? This was not the inept, reckless, emotional wizard that he taught at Hogwarts. Snape was mulling over this inconsistency when Dot arrived with the food.

A table appeared next to the bed once more, laden with early breakfast foods. There were several pieces of toast with various jams and fruits on the side, as well as a fresh pitcher of milk. They encompassed most of the table with only a small clearing around Potter, where a small bowl of … something … was in front of him. Raising an eyebrow, Snape stood up and walked over to the potions and retrieved the nutrient supplement and metabolism inhibitor. He placed it in front of Potter and resolutely sat down, ignoring the other wizard, and began to eat.

Snape was surprised at his appetite. He supposed that, with Potter draining his soul for balance, his body was trying to counteract the effect with food. Even so, there was a strange feeling nagging the back of his mind. A sense that the food was having no effect where it ought to have one. Out of the corner of his eye, Snape saw Potter down the inhibitor and mix the nutrients into his… breakfast. The bowl still had a dark tinge to it, rather than the original color it should have been. Curiosity itching at him, Snape snapped.

“What on earth are you ingesting, Potter?”

The young wizard started a bit, then looked down into the bowl’s contents with a faint blush. “It’s just some cereal, professor.”

Snape peered into the bowl with skeptic eyes. “That is unlike any cereal I have seen, Potter. What are the contents?”

“Some American Muggle cereals, sir.”

Cereals? As in more than one kind? Snape scowled, “A special concoction for the Savior of the Wizarding World? How appropriate.” It figured that the brat would be used to some special brands, from America no less. “What sort of trash is that made of?”

Potter hesitated. “Well, there are some Lucky Charms, Corn Flakes, and a few raisins in here.” There was a pause, while Snape contemplated what he knew of the brands. It didn’t seem like the bowl in front of the wizard contained what he thought it should look like. Seeing the professor’s confused expression, Potter added on, “Dudley only liked the marshmallow bits.”

Looking at the bowl with fresh eyes, Snape could see that the cereal contained what looked like what he’d seen in advertisements for a different brand of cereal without sugar lumps. In fact, the mixture was mostly milk and there were small lumps that must have been the raisins. With a furrowed brow, Snape inquired, “Who is Dudley?”

“My cousin.”

“Ah,” Snape acknowledged. His morning aggression was wearing off replaced by his puzzlement. This did not seem like the sort of treat that would go to the privileged young wizard. But perhaps he had odd tastes. The mention of his cousin’s tastes seemed rather incongruent though. What had that to do with anything? Ignoring the matter, Snape gruffly pointed out that he should add more to the bowl to make certain that the nutrient supplement was completely mixed.

A few hours later, Snape found himself pondering whether to ignore Pomfrey’s prohibition of alcohol, despite the early hour, or if it was safe to bypass the liquor in favor of a quick sleeping potion. To ignore Madame Pomfrey’s advice a second time seemed unwise, even to Snape, and he was considering the components of the sleeping draught when Potter spoke up.

“Erm, Professor?” Potter was reclining in the bed, drifting in and out of sleep, of which Snape had been envious for the time since breakfast. Snape was not prone to returning to sleep after he had awakened in the morning and his mind was uncomfortably alert for the coming dawn.

“Yes, what is it?”

“Which way is the toilet?”

Closing his eyes and heaving a sigh for the pains of the idiocy of youth. “Through the only door attached to this room, Potter,” he pointed at the wall opposite from the original Master suite.

“Ah. Thank you, sir,” Potter slowly shuffled his way over the bed and tested his feet on the ground. He unsteadily made his way over to the door until the distance once more put pressure on his breathing. Glancing back at Snape, Potter took each step with caution, looking back as if to make sure that he was not affecting Snape with his movements.

Snape could feel the bond growing taut and recalled the incident when he first tried to escape the room. Gritting his teeth at the memory and what he now had to do, he told Potter, “You’ll have to leave the door open so that the bond does not react to the separation.” Potter nodded in an embarrassed manner and continued on towards the door.

The further that Potter got, Snape unconsciously found himself leaning towards the direction of the bathroom. Scowling at the misfortunes the Fates were playing with him, Snape moved a couple of feet nearer to the door. He resolutely looked away from the door, but he felt a twinge when he knew that Potter had stepped out of sight, though there was no agonizing burn, so he must have left the door open. At least the brat was following directions.

Snape was just beginning to wonder how long Potter took in the bathroom when a jolt of alarm went through him. The bond was tugging him urgently in a manner that suggested Potter was in distress. He rushed over to the door, brushing it aside and mentally preparing for whatever might be through the doorway. As he burst through, Snape looked down to see Potter convulsing on the floor. The young wizard was hyperventilating and thrashing about on the tile, and Snape quickly put his weight on him to steady him.

“Accio Debilitorium! Dot!”

The house elf popped into view. “At your… oh! Master Harry!” She wrung her hands anxiously. “What does Master Snape need?”

Snape caught the small bottle that flew over from the other room. “Grab a brush and shove it between his teeth.” Potter gave a violent jerk and Snape tumbled back onto the other wizard’s legs. “Quick!”

Dot scurried over and found a brush. She placed it in Potter’s mouth, used to such dealings on other occasions, and then held down his shoulders. With Potter subdued for the moment, Snape lost no time in uncorking the bottle and dribbling the potion into Potter’s mouth around the brush. The young wizard slowly calmed down and was soon breathing normally again. Bright green eyes that had been glazed over now drooped in a tired, but relieved, manner.

“Thanks, prof’ssor,” Potter mumbled.

Scowling, Snape lifted himself up to stand over Potter. “What happened?”

“Jst… after effects,” Potter said, a bit clearer. He shoved himself upright onto his elbows and winced a little. Taking it a bit slower, he pushed backwards until he was propped up by the nearby wall.

“Effects from the bonding?” Snape asked. He had not had any problems, other than some irritating restrictions, but nothing threatening to his health. Perhaps it was different for Potter, since he was the one attached to a different soul than before.

Potter shook his head with care. “No,” he disagreed. “This is from something else… Happened during the war.”

“Well, what caused it?” Snape was becoming impatient. “It will be advantageous for me to know of anything that will affect the bond and it may be something that can be fixed.”

“I’m sorry,” Potter said, and Snape started, surprised to hear those words come so easily. “I forgot about it with the battle and everything. Other Healers were unable to fix it, so it’s just something that I’ve learned to deal with.”

Snape bit out, “And what is it?”

Potter sighed. “It was an experimental potion. I was imprisoned for a while and a Death Eater forced me to take it. We never found out what it was, exactly, only that it was made to create some sort of dependency.”

Frowning, Snape said, “I had never heard of this. When did Death Eaters manage to capture you?”

“They didn’t. I was held at the Ministry.”

“Ah.” There was a short silence and Snape maligned the idiocy of the Ministry. “So what are the side effects?”

“Occasional seizures and general shivers.” Potter slumped back against the wall and let his eyes close for a moment. The brat was clearly still exhausted. Snape frowned.

“You know nothing else of the potion?”

“No.”

“How did it taste?”

Potter thought for a moment, “Not very good… I think it was a little tangy, kinda thick. It was mixed into a drink, probably to thin it out, but I got the feeling that it was a brown-orange color.”

Snape was already thinking of the possibilities when he finally looked back down at Potter. The young wizard was becoming a little pale. “I will work on it,” Snape said. “And you, Potter, will go back to sleep.”

A protesting look crossed Potter’s face before disappearing in a yawn. He gave a little smile, “Thank you, professor.” Green eyes flicked up and met Snape’s dark ones. The gaze was electric and Snape responded with a scowl. He waited for Potter to stand up and return to the suite before moving back in, himself. He had a lot of work to do, but those green eyes stayed with him long after Potter had gone back to bed and fallen asleep.

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