A/N: There is now a PREQUEL to this story!
Harry Potter was dying.
Snape hurled the glass vial at the dungeon wall, where it shattered into shards of crystal as turquoise potion dripped down the stones. Another failure. Cursing loudly, he swept his arm across the bench, violently knocking the cauldron, potion vials, and ingredients to the floor. Time was running out.
Hands on the counter, he hung his head, his chest heaving. Tears began to fall, tears he hadn't let himself cry these past three months. He gasped for breath as the tears turned to sobs. Was there no hope?
He pushed away from the bench, his back hitting the dungeon wall. Slowly, he slid down it, coming to rest on the cold stone floor, pulling his knees up to his chest. He gasped for breath and pulled at his hair. He hadn't sobbed like this since he'd kicked Potter out of his life 13 years ago.
Thirteen wasted years!
He slammed a fist against the flagstones. Potter had a couple of months left to live at most, and Severus had wasted thirteen years that they could have had together; some of that time which could have been used to find a cure.
Head in his hands, Severus swore and shook his head. How had it come to this?
He startled at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder.
"Professor, Harry is asking for you."
Severus nodded and got to his feet, wiping his face with his sleeve.
"Here, Professor," Luna Lovegood said, handing him a bright yellow handkerchief that had colorful butterflies embroidered on it.
Severus frowned, and then grabbed the proffered eyesore.
"You can keep it, sir," Luna said. "It's charmed to bring good luck."
Severus snorted. "If only it worked," Severus muttered.
Luna patted Severus on the shoulder. "I'll get you and Harry some tea," she said as she drifted toward his small kitchenette.
"Harry," Severus said as he sat beside the man that lay in his bed.
"Hi Sev," Harry replied, trying to smile. "I was thinking that maybe it was time."
"Time for what?" Severus asked suspiciously.
"To invite my friends over," Harry said, wincing in pain as he shifted on the mattress.
Severus glowered at him. "You are not giving up, Potter!"
The expression of resignation on Harry's face made Severus burn with anger and fear. "I am not giving up!" Severus proclaimed.
"I know, Severus," Harry said. "But I'd like to see my friends."
They'd had this conversation many times, and Severus knew what Harry's was asking. Harry wanted to start saying his good-byes.
Severus wanted to howl in agony and decry the injustice of it all. "Harry…" Severus began.
"It's alright, Sev," Harry said. "I'm not giving up. I'm just… I just want to be prepared, that's all."
Severus turned away, hiding his distress from the man in his bed. "How's the pain?" Severus choked out.
"Not great," Harry said.
"Do you want some more pain potion?" Severus asked immediately.
"No, if I take too much, I can't think straight or stay awake."
Severus nodded, wishing he had a better solution to offer.
"Sev?"
"Hmm?" Severus murmured.
"Kiss me?"
Severus looked toward the ceiling and swallowed back his tears. He cleared his throat a couple of times, trying to get control of his emotions. Then he leaned down and placed soft lips against his partner's. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough. But Harry was so fragile these days, not breakable as much as in constant pain. Even the lightest touch hurt him.
"Sev?"
"Hmm?" Severus responded.
"Love you," Harry said.
Severus closed his eyes, trying to hold back the wetness gathered behind his lashes. "Love you, too, brat," he whispered, knowing that only camping here on death's doorstep had enabled him to say the words aloud.
At his desk, Snape scratched out missives to be sent to Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, Ginevra Weasley, and Neville Longbottom. Luna Lovegood was already in residence.
At 2:50 pm, he heard the small stampede of chattering witches and wizards approach his office. As it was the summer break and he had requested this meeting, there was no doubt in his mind as to their identities.
"Professor Longbottom," Snape greeted as the man stepped inside. He was dressed in casual summer robes, dirt caked under his fingernails as was typical of a herbology professor. He looked a bit lost and confused as always.
Ginevra Weasley stepped in next, looking harried in her second-hand robes, a sleeping newborn strapped to her bosom.
Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger came in next. Weasley was wearing Auror robes and Granger was wearing a plain but becoming set of summer robes. Both greeted him warmly, if a bit warily.
"Let us commence this reunion in my private quarters, shall we?" Snape offered. He turned from their confused faces and led the way into his study, where he'd configured the couch and other furniture into a conference table and chairs.
When Luna floated in, carrying a tea service and biscuits, the former students all looked taken aback.
"Luna!" Ronald exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
Luna smiled her ethereal smile and said, "Tea, Ronald?"
Once everyone was seated and served, Luna sat next to Neville and briefly placed her hand over Snape's, causing some raised eyebrows.
Snape ignored the glances and contemplated how to begin this conversation. In the end, he said simply: "Harry Potter is dying."
That caused an uproar, with Weasley on his feet, his wand raised, before Granger could calm him and get him to sit back down. Longbottom looked stunned, but Ginevra seemed lit by some inner flame.
"What do you mean, dying?" Ginevra inquired.
Snape took a deep breath. "Potter showed up at my doorstep three months ago…"
"He what?" Weasley shouted.
"Ron!" Hermione hissed. "Let the Professor speak."
"Thank you, Ms. Granger," Snape said. "Potter came to me requesting help."
"You?" Weasley demanded, before Granger shushed him again.
Ignoring Weasley, Snape continued. "He was suffering from an unknown ailment that has continued to worsen. He had seen numerous healers, but none had been able to offer any assistance."
Swallowing, Snape added, "He sought me out to see if I could brew a potion…" To what? Stop the disease's progression? End his suffering?
Granger had listened attentively. "What is wrong with him, sir?"
"That is not clear," Snape replied. Weasley snorted, but Snape continued. "However, it seems that his magic is leaving him, and as it does, his life force seems to be draining away with it." Snape swallowed convulsively, the words costing him to admit it.
Granger covered her mouth with a gasp.
"Furthermore," Snape added, "he is in constant pain. The lightest touch disturbs him."
Longbottom groaned.
"How long has he been ill?" Granger asked.
"About two years, from what he's told me," Snape responded.
"He never said anything to us," Granger lamented, her eyes brimming with wetness.
"Where is he?" Weasley demanded.
"Here," Snape said simply.
"Here?" Weasley said incredulously, jumping to his feet again. "What have you done to him?"
Out of patience, Snape opened his mouth to give the idiot a piece of his mind, when Luna spoke.
"Ronald," she said, "Harry came to Professor Snape because Harry knew the good Professor would help him. Professor Snape has been taking care of Harry for months, and brewing potions night and day to try and cure him."
Granger pulled Weasley back down, and the auror didn't resist.
"How did you come to be here, Luna?" Longbottom asked.
"The nargles," Luna replied, as if that made perfect sense.
"Can we see him?" Ginevra asked, shifting the babe, who continued to sleep.
"Shortly," Snape said. "He's asleep at the moment." Snape pulled out a glass cube, which glowed light blue, and set it on the table. "It turns green when he is awake, yellow when he's in pain, and red if…"
"If he's about to cross over," Luna finished for Snape.
Silence filled the room as each digested that.
"What can we do to help?" Longbottom asked.
"I am not sure," Snape said. "I have tried everything I can think of, but nothing has slowed the progress of the disease."
"Is he cursed?" Ginevra asked.
"It does not appear to be so," Snape replied.
"Has this been seen before?" Granger asked.
"I have found a few cases that have been documented throughout Wizarding history, but their etiology is unclear."
"What happened to those blokes?" Weasley asked.
Snape grimaced. "They died."
"Why didn't he tell us sooner?" Granger cried.
"I believe," Snape said, "that he wished to be recovered before he saw you so as not to worry you."
"That sounds like Harry," Weasley commented.
"And now?" Ginevra asked.
Snape looked away.
Luna spoke then. "Harry wants to say good-bye," Luna said. "But I think we can do more than that."
Luna looked around at Harry's assembled friends. "We helped with Harry when he went to the Ministry in our fifth year, and we helped Harry when he defeated Lord Voldemort. I think we can help Harry overcome this as well."
The quiet confidence in her voice had Snape spinning to stare at her. "What are you saying?"
Touching Snape's shoulder, she said, "We are some of the brightest minds in Britain, and we know Harry best. If anyone can come up with a way to help him, it will be us."