Tomorrow

Warnings:Character death mentioned. Drama.
Author's Notes:This is the first fic I've written - no, to be more accurate, this is the first I've finished. My first is still hidden in some file of my computer and possibly will never see the light of day. *g*
Had been a little bit depressed when the idea popped into my mind.

Enjoy!!!

Tomorrow

“Now why do you keep on taking your shoes off in the center of the room?” Harry asked irritably. “I almost stumbled over them again!!”

Flushing slightly with annoyance, Harry bent down and grabbed up the pair of big black shoes lying there in the middle of the room. Picking them up, he examined them closely and observed: “By the way, they could use a little bit of a cleaning, you know.” Accusingly, Harry turned towards the dark figure in the armchair near the fireplace. “Seems like they haven’t been brushed since ages!“

After receiving no answer whatever, Harry raised his eyebrows and ruffled his hair, making it stand up in every direction. “Okay, I know that you’re not interested in such profane things as cleaning these last few days.” He sighed deeply and gave in immediately, his face turning soft. “It doesn’t matter.” The green eyes focused on the dark figure intently. “I will attend to your shoes. But not today. Tomorrow. There will be plenty of time.” Neatly putting down the pair of shoes near the fireplace, Harry slumped down into the other comfortable armchair facing the other.

After a few minutes of contented silence, Harry began to shift around in his seat.

He just couldn’t sit still.

Harry started to exam his fingernails. They were nicely cut and filed so no harm could be done with them. Instantly, he smiled. Yes, he took every precaution, each and everytime. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt his loved one accidentally.

Yes, his fingers and nails were in perfect shape.

But…

What about his face? Severus always said that he loved to cup Harry’s perfect smooth chin.

At once his right hand moved towards his jaw, stroking it cautiously. Unintentionally, he again let out another deep sigh, this time in relief. No stubble. His chin was as smooth as it possibly could be.

Congrats. He hadn’t forgotten. Severus liked him best without any scratching hairs on his face.

And this day Harry had remembered. He had shaved and cut and filed his nails. So Harry had done his best to please his lover.

Hopefully, Harry looked up towards his vis-à-vis.

After a while of watching him, Harry had to finally admit that he wouldn’t get any type of response. The figure in front of him displayed no reaction whatsoever. Had he made any mistake? Had he forgotten something?

Seemed like he forgot a lot of things the last time. But today he hadn’t. He was sure of it.

But obviously he had failed to remember something. Something important.

Because usually, Severus talked to him.
Usually, Severus was holding him in his arms when he felt as disturbed as he was feeling now.
Usually, Severus explained everything that was somewhat of a mystery to him.
Usually, Severus talked to him.

But this time he didn’t. This time Severus didn’t answer at all.

Harry fidgeted in his armchair. Now, HAD he done something wrong?

He simply had to have forgotten something important, is this why he didn’t get any answer?

But, thanks to experience of days past, Harry calmed down again. “No, I didn’t,” he reassured himself.

“But why doesn’t he talk to me?” a little voice repeated again and again in his head.

With a crack, Dobby Apparated in the living room. “Dinner’s ready,” the house-elf announced.

At once, Harry got up out of his armchair and took the big tray out of Dobby’s hands. A delicious aroma was noticeably filling the room. Harry’s mouth watered. Roasted chicken. With – yes, this must be potato gratin. Gratefully, he smiled back at Dobby and thanked him for the meal. And whilst Dobby was Disapparating with a loud crack again, Harry sat the tray down and laid out the little table near the window for two.

“Won’t you come over?” Without turning around, Harry kept on laying out forks and knives, arranging them symmetrically near the plates. Smiling, he fetched a candle, lit it and placed it on the table. “All is ready, hon, you just have to move over and get yourself seated.” Again Harry smiled. Yes, the table was perfect. Nothing there in the least that could be spoiling the effect. He concentrated hard. When he heard a rustling of robes behind him, his smile broadened.

“Roasted chicken. I know you like this.” Harry started to chat away cheerfully. “I hope it’s done well. Of course, if I was able to cook myself, it definitely would be. But as I’m not able to cook in our flat…” His voice trailed away. Now why exactly wasn’t he able to cook? He puckered his eyebrows, trying to think of the reason. But although he contemplated the problem hard in his mind, he couldn’t come to a conclusion. A wave of uneasiness rushed through his body.

He just couldn’t remember. He simply knew that he couldn’t cook in this flat.

Harry shook his head violently. Why think of some problem he couldn’t solve anyway? He would think about it again tomorrow. There would be plenty of time then.

Resolutely, he clenched his jaw and turned around.

When he saw his loved one already sitting at the table, Harry immediately forgot all about cooking and swiftly sat down at the table himself.

At once, he filled the plates with food. They should eat as long it was warm. It wouldn’t do to linger around and let it get cold. No. And, most important, Severus wouldn’t like it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After a somewhat silent, but satisfying meal, both settled back in the armchairs in front of the fireplace. Harry tried to read for a while, but then couldn’t suppress a yawn.

“If you don’t mind…” Harry stifled another yawn. “I’m done. I’m going on to bed.” And he glanced hopefully at his opposite.

Bed. The highlight of the day.

Okay. It wasn’t THAT late, but he really felt tired - almost to exhaustion, Harry noticed with wonder.

Slowly, he got up and after having cast another hopeful look towards his friend, he went towards the bathroom. He smiled happily when he felt that he was being followed by a dark figure.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Harry entered into the bedroom, the bed was already occupied by his permanent companion.

“Thank you for pushing yourself in front…” Harry smiled fondly at the shape lying on the bed who was almost completely covered by the quilt. “It was me,” he added teasingly, “who wanted to go to bed in the first place, and now just look at you!”

Harry cautiously crept onto the bed and under the quilt and contentedly snuggled against the figure lying there.

He sighed deeply.

“Yes.”

He hugged the dark shape tenderly, and smiled happily.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I will always love you.”

Before drifting off into a dreamless sleep, he added, “Forever.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The three figures under their Invisibility cloaks retreated silently. Outside the flat, they immediately pushed away the shiny material which had supported them to conceal their presence.

Hermione Weasley was the first to cry.

“Isn’t there ANYTHING we can do?” she choked out, wringing her hands appealingly towards the healer.

“I’m afraid not,” Samuel Sanusy answered gravely.

“Since Mr. Potter came into our custody at St. Mungo’s six months ago,” he went on, “it has been the same routine every day.” He sadly looked down to the ground. “And night,” he added with a fierce expression on his face, looking up again.

Hermione let out a strangled cry. Thanks to heaven they hadn’t had to witness any more of the – night.

“But what about … the figure?” Ron Weasley asked timidly, the freckles on his face being in severe contrast with his pale skin.

“Ah, yes.” Sanusy stroked his cheek thoughtfully. “This really IS some piece of non-verbal magic excellently performed.” There was a trace of badly-concealed enthusiasm showing on his face. “To levitate a robe around just like it was an individual … this has never been heard of. Just by pure will.” Sanusy nodded. “Yes. Most extraordinary. Remarkable, remarkable…” He eyed the shivering couple in front of him intently. “If we only knew how the patient was able to perform this specific spell, we would…”

By the look on Hermione’s and Ron’s faces, the healer knew he had gone too far.

Instantly, he sobered up.

“I’m afraid as long as Mr. Potter won’t acknowledge the fact that Professor Snape died the night Mr. Potter saved the Wizarding World by killing You-know-who, he will stay in exactly the same state he is now in.”

The healer turned and started to pace slowly along the corridor.

“It seems that Mr. Potter,” Sanusy coughed discreetly, “had been deeply in love with Professor Snape.” The healer nodded to affirm his statement. “And it disturbed his mind severely when Professor Snape gave his life by throwing himself in front of him at the exact moment when The-one-who-must not-be-named cast the Killing Curse.” Samuel Sanusy again shook his head. “And so, Mr. Potter created this spell. To tide him over the days he’s without his…” the healer again coughed, “.…lover, so to speak. But, instead of lessening, the effects of the spell has in fact become stronger and stronger as the days went by.” Sanusy became enthusiastic once more. “Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.” With a rush, he turned around, his eyes blazing with agitation at the silence, to address the young couple.

But there was no one.

The young red-haired man and the girl with the intelligent eyes had vanished.

*end*