This one-shot is written for you, SeverusSnape19!
He froze just before his hand could turn the doorknob.
It was already late and he didn't have any important information. His visit could wait until the next morning. But, technically, this was already the next day and it was too late to turn back now. He would not travel two times, not when he had exhausted his body with too many steps and almost used up the remainder of his energy. Besides, the sooner he saw the Headmaster, the sooner he could rest and heal the shallow, yet numerous injuries.
And since he was already so close...
He carefully opened the door and closed it silently behind him. A familiar voice would usually greet him when he entered this room, this time there was only silence. He gazed around the round room, slightly surprised. Everything was exactly the same, except for one detail: a tea cup with steam raising from it sat on the desk, half-hiding behind a pile of thick books.
He stared with narrowed eyes at the white porcelain.
If the tea was freshly made, then that meant that the Headmaster was still awake.
A musical note forced his mind away from the object, and a second later, he felt a slight pressure on his right shoulder and soft feathers grazing his face. He instantly recognized the owner of the feathers and smiled slightly when they moved closer to him and sang another note.
"Fawkes..." The pain was dulled for a moment to a soft ache and he closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the soft plumage against his face.
For a strange, unknown reason, Fawkes had always calmed him.
This was no exception.
But he was soon brought out from this tranquillity, for he heard a very familiar voice.
"Severus!"
Snape quickly opened his eyes, tensed his body and instinctively moved his shoulder, almost in an uncontrolled spasm. Fawkes left his shoulder and would had normally flown to his master, but this time, he flew to the desk and perched himself atop the books and near the steaming cup.
Snape followed the movements of the phoenix, trying to avoid the other's eyes.
But he would have to look at him at some point.
"Severus?" He gazed at the Headmaster, but didn't look him in the eyes: his eyes fell on his dressing robe, instead.
"I... I woke you..." Snape couldn't disguise the apologetic and worn quality in his voice.
"No, no, you didn't wake me." Dumbledore replied softly.
Snape swallowed and gazed at Dumbledore's shoulder, still unable to meet the blue eyes. He could feel the Headmaster's eyes examining his body and noticing the slightly bloodied clothing and the exhausted stance of his body.
Suddenly, he regretted coming here at all.
"Perhaps... perhaps I should come back later..." He was already turning his body to the door, hoping that the other would let him go.
The Headmaster was not that kind; he started to walk toward Severus, even as the other backed away. "I should go..." Snape whispered.
But the fatigue and pain returned to him; any magic that Fawkes had worked was disappearing.
He felt a hand on his left shoulder and winced: the Headmaster had, unknowingly, touched the deepest wound. The pressure and the shock amplified the other aches and he quickly took a step back before...
Too late. The exhaustion and pain were swift. He staggered – the thing he wanted to avoid – and lost his balance.
Snape waited for the coldness of the hard surface and the pain that would surely follow.
And they came. But they were worse than expected.
A blinding pain hit his body while he gasped. His vision was clouded by many colours and his ears became temporary deaf. The terrible ache heightened the pain of his other injuries. He felt like they were all freshly caused, even though most of them were at least an hour old.
But then, amidst the deafening and blinding pain, Snape was carefully raised, a warm body and two hands supported most of his weight. He was gently guided to an unknown destination, and then lowered to a soft cushion. Snape instantly recognized the texture: it was the couch where he would sit whenever he was in the Headmaster's office.
It was then that he could faintly detect a voice. At first, he couldn't hear the tones, but slowly, words were starting to form in his mind while the colours gradually disappeared from his sight.
"Are you all right?" As soon as the meaning reached his brain, he nodded without thinking.
Even in this state, he could feel the sceptical air of the Headmaster. "Of course..."
"I... I'm fine..." Snape slightly winced when he heard his own exhausted and quiet voice. That didn't sound convincing, even to his own ears, and certainly not to the perceptible ears of the Headmaster.
"Just... a little tired..." Snape heard a deep sigh and closed his eyes. He knew the meaning of that exhale of breath. He had said this sentence – and the many variants – many times, but each time, he was lying. He knew it, and the Headmaster knew it.
"And?"
Extremely exhausted and terrible aches in every cell in my body.
Snape wanted to say this, he really wanted to, but, as always, his vocal chords refused to corporate when he was in this kind of situation.
Albus seemed to understand the hidden message, because he stood up, strode to a cupboard, took out a vial, walked back, uncorked the glass and gently touched it to the slightly damaged mouth.
Snape parted his mouth and let the liquid flood his dry mouth and throat.
The effects of the potion could be felt the second after it reached his stomach: the pain was diminished, his vision was sharpened and the weariness disappeared.
Snape sighed and relaxed his body while his back touched the soft couch, enjoying the peacefulness, albeit a brief one, for a second later, a second weight lowered the large cushion of the furniture.
They remained silent for a long moment, but Snape was feeling anything but content: he had a sudden urge to... talk, and before he could stop himself, he was already speaking.
"Thank you."
"Whatever for?"
What must he say? He couldn't say the truth, even if he wanted to – like now. He was never a talker: most things were carefully hidden in his own mind and most would remain there.
But the Headmaster needed to know them. He didn't need to tell all his thoughts, but a small part was enough for now.
Maybe... maybe he could use another method to convey the message. That was when an unexpected and bizarre thought appeared.
His body moved before his mind could register the movements.
He turned his body and, while Snape was still evading the scrutinizing blue eyes, slowly leant his body toward the other. The moment he felt warmness, he instantly knew what he had done, and wanted to pull away, but a hand carefully encircled his unwounded shoulder.
Snape tensed and gasped.
"It's okay, Severus..." The three words were whispered, but Snape could easily hear the warm, content and pleasant qualities. He slowly forced his body to relax. Snape didn't advance further, but he wasn't retreating either.
A second arm joined the first one, touching his back, and when they felt the other releasing the many tensions, Albus nudged him closer to him and gingerly tightened his hold a bit – firm, but not causing him pain or accidentally touching an injury.
Albus was glad, glad that his dear friend, – no, more than a friend – had finally found the courage to reach out.
Every time, he was the one who took the initiative, but this time, it was reversed. Albus could feel that the other was slightly uncomfortable and struggling with the contradicting thoughts, but this would lessen in time.
Albus Dumbledore would make sure of that.
He was brought out of his reverie when he heard deep, shaky breaths, and, a long moment later, a soft voice.
"Thank you...Albus..."
Albus knew directly what he meant and chuckled silently. Sometimes, his most intimate friend could act peculiar and unexpectedly – and very silly.
"You're welcome, my boy."
His voice sounded neutral, Snape thought while trying to calm his mind and breathing. Maybe he didn't understand the hidden meaning. It wouldn't surprise him, the words weren't exactly direct.
"No... I meant-"
"Hush."
"...But-"
"I know what you meant, Severus." The understanding quality couldn't be missed now and Snape felt a heavy weight in his chest being lifted.
"Oh." It was an uncharacteristic sound, but that was exactly how he was feeling right now – foreign and different – and he couldn't stop the new thought.
He understood. The Headmaster – no, Albus – understood.
A small tear left his eye and travelled down, but, before it could reach his chin, a warm hand intercepted it and gently wiped it away.
"My dear Severus..." Albus slightly tightened his hold on the other's body while he felt a trembling arm slowly, cautiously and loosely encircling his middle.
"Thank you..." Dumbledore chuckled, and this time, the younger man could hear it and let out a half-sigh and half-chuckle while closing his tired eyes. Maybe he would not sleep in his own chambers today: it was very comfortable here and he was sure that he couldn't walk back any more – the tiredness was swiftly returning again: he would collapse on the ground the second he would raise himself.
So he missed the next words: quiet and subtle, but mixed with strong affection and passion.
"You are very welcome... my child."
I know, this one-shot is fluff... but I really enjoyed writing this one! I like fluff from time to time, but sometimes I can't write it, even if I want to!
This story is written as a challenge from SeverusSnape19. She has given me four plot points and two conditions that must be included in this one. Naturally, I've used every one of them (even in the same order!). They are easy to spot, I think!
This one-shot is a small "thank you" to her: for her wonderful betaing, advices and her successful help!
And she certainly deserves some credit! Without her, I would have never written this...
