Vocal Benefaction

Summary: An avid search may result in the perfect Christmas gift, as long as those searching are willing to sacrifice, to give of themselves in the name of love. Sometimes, the search itself is worth more than the gift, especially when Harry and Severus are the ones searching.

Appreciation: Special thanks to YenGirl for taking some time out of her busy schedule to help me with this story. Yen, your assistance is always so appreciated!

Rating: Rated T for language and mild slash

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling; Story inspired by "The Gift of the Magi" by O. Henry

A/N: This will be a three part story. Part Two will be posted early next week, then Part Three will follow the week after that... just in time for Christmas. I hope you enjoy Part One.

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December 22nd

"Honestly, Harry, I don't think you're going to be able to do this," Hermione huffed in exasperation.

"I've looked through at least a dozen of these textbooks and more than thirty of Poppy's healing manuals. The only reference I was able to find on a method to heal severed vocal chords was in that potion book I showed you last week, Healing Potions Through The Ages. And I told you then… there's no possible way even Severus would be able to brew that potion. It requires the blood of an African Chimera. Those creatures have been extinct for over three hundred years!"

"OK. Fine, Hermione, I get it. No potion. I suppose if it were as simple as brewing a potion, Severus would have healed his injury years ago," Harry admitted, albeit begrudgingly. "There must be another way, though! I mean… maybe… maybe we need to broaden our search a bit."

"Broaden our…?" Hermione voiced, eyes wide with disbelief. "Harry, we have been searching for over three weeks now. We've looked through at least three-quarters of the books in this library, including most of the ones in the Restricted Section, and we've only found that one reference!"

"We haven't looked in the Dark Arts reference books," Harry muttered. He was obstinately not looking at her, knowing the torrent of indignant fury she was sure to vent at his suggestion.

"What!? Harry! You know very well those books contain the most Dark… the most evil…"

"They contain the only spells and potions we haven't considered yet! Yes, these books are all about Dark Magic. I get that, OK? But if one of them happens to include a spell or another potion or something that can cure Severus, then I'm willing to use it!" Harry insisted. He was on his feet now, his hands clenched into tight fists and his teeth grinding together in frustration.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and fixed him with an inquisitive stare. The intensity of her gaze seemed to penetrate his very soul, as if those warm, chestnut brown eyes had the ability to look right through him and decipher the motives behind Harry's passion for this latest fixation.

"Remind me again…" Hermione entreated, her voice softer now, more restrained, but fierce with intrigue, "why it is that you are so adamant about doing this for a man who pays you no regard… a man who doesn't even acknowledge you except once a month at our staff meetings when he hands you back your approved lessons plans with a terse nod of his head and a bitter scowl on his face?"

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep, tempering breath. He wasn't angry with Hermione for her questions regarding his reasons for needing to do this nor for her stubbornness at wanting to avoid the Dark Arts at any cost. He was more furious with himself for never telling her, or anyone else for that matter, what he had been keeping quiet for years.

He was certain Hermione would be surprised – more than surprised, actually. She would probably fall over from shock! After all, he and Severus had a long history of loathing each other. The fact that they had grown to care for one another, after years of mutual enmity, was nothing short of unbelievable.

It had all started more than six years ago with a simple, silent exchange – just a letter – an ordinary correspondence born from Harry's acute need to express his gratitude. Despite Severus Snape's abhorrent treatment of him throughout the entirety of his school years, Harry recognized how much the man had done for him, how much he had sacrificed in order to always keep him safe. Severus had saved Harry's life again and again, risking everything to ensure his survival. Harry wasn't certain a simple letter would be a grand enough gesture to express his appreciation for all the man's efforts, but at the time, it seemed to be his only choice.

Harry had written that letter not long after Minerva hired him and Hermione to fill the roles of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and Muggle Studies teacher respectively. That was shortly after the final battle, when Severus was still in a magically-induced coma, recovering from his near-fatal injuries. By the time Severus awoke, almost two months later, the ex-Death Eater had already been cleared by the Wizengamot for his actions during the war, in part due to Harry's vehement insistence that the man was on the side of the Light all along.

Midway through that first school term, Minerva did a bit of her own magic and was somehow able to convince the Board of Governors to reinstate Severus as Hogwarts' rightful Headmaster. It was a swift changeover, one that Minerva later admitted to Harry she was wholeheartedly glad for. She insisted that her talents lay in teaching Transfiguration to young minds, and not in debating with Ministry officials over political educational decrees and speaking with angry parents who refused to believe their son or daughter hadn't achieved the required OWLs needed to take NEWT-level Arithmancy.

Harry remembered wondering how Severus would be able to cope as Headmaster sans voice. Despite the man's inability to speak, however, he had implemented many ingenious means to communicate. He'd perfected a spell to enchant a special quill to write on parchment without him having to lift a finger, and another that would write illuminating letters that hung in midair with just a flick of his wand. That second spell had given Harry the creeps the first time he'd seen it, reminding him uncomfortably of the spell Tom Riddle had used to write his self-appointed moniker in the air while in the Chamber of Secrets during Harry's second year.

Whenever Severus needed to speak publicly, he opted for an altogether different method of communication. He would enlist the aid of a Hogwarts house-elf by the name of Loqui. Severus must have been able to forge a mind link with her, for she was able to speak his words for him with relative ease. Of course, he used her talents only when absolutely necessary; for his speech after the start-of-term feast and the occasional commentary during staff meetings.

Throughout that entire first year, Harry had held onto his letter. He supposed he was hoping he wouldn't have to deliver it at all, holding on to the possibility that perhaps Severus would come to him to make amends first. Unfortunately, the only acknowledgement he had received from the man that year was exactly what Hermione had just mentioned: a rather curt head nod and a fleeting expression of mild agitation.

It wasn't until late October of his second year teaching that Harry garnered the courage to send one of the school owls to Severus with his letter. Fewer than three hours later, he received a reply. Part of him had not even expected a response, yet Severus had written back and quickly.

Harry had held onto Severus' letter for the last five and half years. He still had it, neatly folded and tucked away in a keepsake chest at the bottom of a locked drawer of his desk. He had read and re-read the letter so often over the years, he knew every word by heart.

Harry,

Your words have touched me, and as you might imagine, I am not easily affected, emotionally speaking. Thank you for your sincerity, your courage and your kindness. Although I have never told you so, and my actions have always indicated otherwise, I consider you to be one of the bravest men I have ever known. Your mother would have been extremely proud of you… as am I.

I will ask that you kindly dispose of this letter. Burning it would be most appreciated. If it were known that I possess this amount of Hufflepuff sentiment, my reputation as being the most surly and forbidding Headmaster in the history of Hogwarts would surely be sullied. I do trust you'll remain taciturn regarding my 'softer side', or I will be forced to dock your pay (since docking points from Gryffindor is now improper… not that it ever affected you in the past).

Sincerely Yours,

Severus

PS: I am partial to having a cup of tea in my office at half three every Sunday afternoon. You are welcome to join me this Sunday if you wish. My favorite magical creature is the phoenix.

Harry had met Severus in his office for tea that Sunday, and every Sunday thereafter. They spent many hours discussing the war. Harry told Severus about his months on the run with Ron and Hermione, stressing that the appearance of Severus' doe patronus and the Sword of Gryffindor had been pivotal in their mission to destroy the horcruxes and thanking him profusely for his covert assistance. Severus had disclosed, through his magically penned notations, all about his hardships as Voldemort's appointed Headmaster of Doom, as he liked to refer to it.

By the end of that year, that initial olive branch had developed into a close bond of friendship, close enough that Severus had suggested that they try to communicate via other means.

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"What do you mean, Severus? How else could we communicate?"

"You've seen me communicate with Loqui, have you not? We could connect in a similar fashion. After all, we have shared a mind link in the past. I believe it would not be too difficult to re-establish that link and put it to another use," Severus wrote, his words dissolving rapidly into gold, shimmering mist as he lowered his wand. His mannerisms displayed a slight indifference, but Harry had known the man long enough now to know that his feigned apathy was a facade and that he truly wanted this.

"The last time you entered my mind, you were a bit…"

"Harsh, yes. I recall," Severus wrote, then paused, seemingly at a loss as to what to write next. "I want you to know that I deeply regret my actions that year. I was cruel to you. I was bitter. I was angry and frustrated with your lack of understanding to the importance of our lessons. Regardless, I should not have taken out my frustrations on you. I am sorry, Harry. This will not be like last time. I…"

His words diminished during his protracted pause, Severus' wand hovering as he searched for his next words.

Harry waited, a lump forming in his throat as emotions he had not thought himself capable of surfaced. They swirled and flourished in his clenching heart while swift moisture gathered in the corners of his brilliant green eyes.

"It's different between us now," Severus finished. "I will not hurt you, Harry. I will be gentle. I swear it."

Harry nodded, then lowered his head and palmed away his emotional tears. After a moment, he lifted his head again and smiled.

"OK. I'm in."

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After more than a month of trial and error and numerous headaches both literal and figurative, they were successful in establishing a telepathic link. They had to be in very close physical proximity for it to work properly. Even sitting a few seats away from each other at the head table in the Great Hall was a big enough gap to hinder telepathic communication. Therefore, most of the time, they utilized their link only during their Sundays together, and ironically, when Severus would hand back Harry's approved lesson plans during staff meetings.

To the rest of the staff, these monthly exchanges may simply have looked like an overbearing Headmaster insisting on controlling every aspect of his most-detested professor's teaching style. In reality, it was just an excuse for Harry and Severus to be able to speak to each other through their mind link. Harry enjoyed these moments of secretive banter very much, despite their brevity.

That had all taken place over five years ago. Since then, his friendship with Severus had grown and strengthened, unbeknownst to the other Hogwarts teachers, including Hermione.

And this reminded him...

Dragging himself back to his present situation, Harry took a deep breath to consider his current dilemma. He realized Hermione was not about to let this go. Considering the fierce glare of blazing curiosity the inquisitive witch was currently giving him, he was pretty sure she would find out about his unexpected friendship with the Headmaster one way or another.

"Hermione," Harry began, his voice shaky and hesitant. He sat back down, ran his fingers through his unruly mop of raven hair, and soldiered on, resolved to explain the real reason behind his mission to find a cure for Severus.

"We're friends. Severus and I… we've grown quite close over the years."

There was a pause before Hermione broke out in surprised laughter, effectively breaking the mounting tension in the air. At first, Harry couldn't help but smile in shared amusement as he watched her chortle with unrestrained mirth. His grin was soon replaced by a frown, however, as a cold stab of indignant annoyance seemed to usurp his initial enjoyment.

"OK, Harry… Alright… that was a good one. Seriously. I think I needed that!" Hermione breathed out amid gasps of laughter.

"Hermione – I'm serious. Severus and I are friends. I care about him very much. He means a lot to me. And I want this for him. I want him to have his voice back."

Harry kept his gaze on Hermione who stood there now looking very much like the stone gargoyle guarding Severus' office – her body rigid and her face completely blank.

"That's what I want to give him for Christmas this year. Over the last six years I've given him nothing but potion ingredients and books and I'm sick of not being able to give him the one thing he needs the most! To be honest, I think I'm being a bit selfish here because the truth is that I want to hear that snarky voice again. I want to hear his sarcasm… the wit in his tone… the joy in his voice when he talks about the potions he's invented. The way we talk now… it's through a mind link... and it works, but it's not the same."

Harry took a deep breath and continued, his voice strong and sure.

"I want to be able to give him the one thing that's been taken from him. And I'll do whatever I can to restore his voice, Hermione. Whatever it takes. Even if that means dabbling in the Dark Arts!"

Hermione's eyes were as large as saucers. There was an expression on her face that Harry had never seen there before, a look equal parts shock and feverish introspection. It made her appear oddly vacant, like she'd just been kissed by a Dementor.

"Hermione? Are you… are you alri–"

"Y-y-you… you and the Headmaster? I mean… Snape? S-S-Severusnape?" she spluttered, her words slurring together into an almost comical utterance.

"Yes, Hermione," Harry answered, his annoyance with her swiftly fading now that shock had taken over her hilarity. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier that he and I had become friends. I'm not even certain why I didn't tell you. I guess I just–"

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, that odd, vacant look suddenly transforming into one Harry recognized from days of old: chuffed excitement. "Finally! My God, I thought you'd never figure it out! I mean, alright, I am a bit stunned that it took Severus Snape for you to realize that you're gay, but–"

"WHOA! Wait… WHAT?!"

At Harry's shocked outburst, the perplexed look that had adorned Hermione's face earlier slipped back into place, her euphoric grin morphing into an uninspired, straight line.

"Hermione, what the hell are you on about?" Harry questioned. His tone was strong, resonating a convincing attempt at confusion, but inside his heart was nearly beating out of his chest. Something gripped him, set off by Hermione's words still echoing in his mind.

They were true, of course. Well, partly. Harry had known he was gay for quite some time, ever since those days following the final battle when he and Ginny had given their severed relationship another go. The debacle that followed that second attempt made him realize with absolute certainty that his romantic dilemmas had nothing to do with the war, or even her, specifically. He remembered Ron mentioning that perhaps Ginny just wasn't his type. Truer words had never been spoken by his best friend.

But the one thing that had caused his mind to go into overdrive and his heart to race as though he were running a marathon, wasn't Hermione's obvious knowledge of his preferences. It was that he was now thinking about his preferences and Severus in the same breath, the same thought, the same moment. In all their time spent together – all their laughs, their long talks, their deep, meaningful conversations, albeit in silence – not once had he ever considered Severus in a romantic sense.

Hermione didn't bother to answer Harry, as if knowing she didn't need to...

In the reprieved silence, he contemplated why he had never thought about Severus in that way. Was it because he had been his Potions Professor once? He was still a man, after all. A very talented, brilliant, courageous and powerful man. He was attractive too. Maybe not in the traditional sense, but he was tall and dark, with a nicely-toned body, elegant and sensitive fingers, long black hair that was soft, like silk. Well, not that Harry had actually touched it before, but it looked like it would be soft... if he were to touch it... if he were to run his fingers through it and...

Harry shook his head to clear it, cheeks growing hot. His thoughts were getting away from him. He needed to think. He needed to figure this out, because the truth was that... yes. Severus was an attractive man. But… but… that didn't mean… Why on earth would Hermione just assume…

"OK. I… yes… I am gay. I should have realized you and Ron would have figured that out at some point. But I've known that for years. It's got nothing to do with Severus! I told you… we're just friends," he insisted, "Oh, and thank you very much for outing me in the damn library."

Hermione was chuckling again, an infuriating, knowing giggle that Harry now found quite irritating.

"Oh, Harry! How can you be so accomplished and so intelligent, and yet so oblivious all at the same time? And for God's sake, Harry, it's Christmas break. There are only nine students in this entire school right now and I doubt very highly they're lurking in the library three days before Christmas."

"Oblivious? Well, isn't that a case of the pot calling the kettle black, Hermione? Until today, you hadn't even realized I was seeing Sev… I mean, no, not seeing… Shit! I mean. Damn it, Hermione! We're just friends!"

"Yes. You've said that. A few times now," she drawled, her voice the epitome of calm, even as one corner of her mouth curved up into a complacent smirk. Not for the first time, Harry found her acuity unnerving.

They remained silent for a long time. Harry sat there, staring with unseeing eyes at a book he was quite certain he had discarded an hour ago for containing no useful information. His concentration on the task at hand was slipping. His thoughts were a blur of confusing emotions and contradicting ideas. Several times he threaded his fingers through his hair in nervous agitation while trying to make sense of this lingering inner-turmoil born from Hermione's exuberant commentary.

"Alright. I'll do it," Hermione said at last. "I'll help you look through the Dark Arts books. But if we find a book that elucidates a cure and especially if said cure involves the use of a Dark spell, I'm out of it. OK? You're on your own."

Harry's anxious expression twisted into a genuine smile, all thoughts of his confused feelings about Severus temporarily forgotten.

"Great, Hermione! Thank you. Thank you so much. Wait here. I'll go get the books. We can take them back to my quarters so we can look through them in private."

Four hours and two bottles of elf-made wine later, they'd only gone through about half of the massive stack of ancient tomes and had yet to find anything pertaining to a spell that could reverse vocal chord damage. It wasn't until Harry offered to go down to the kitchens and get dinner for them did Hermione come across something of interest. He was halfway out the door to his quarters, when she called him back.

"Harry… I'm not certain, but… yes. This might be something."

"What?" Harry asked as he rushed back into the room. "What did you find? Is there a spell?"

"Well, no, not in this book," she clarified as Harry plopped down on the settee beside her, his nose nearly touching the page of the book as he leaned over her shoulder for a closer look. "But there is a reference in here about another book that apparently has a chapter on illegal healing spells... spells that… oh, let me find it… here… spells that evoke the potent powers of the Anguis. And it goes on to describe these spells as being powerful enough to cure any physical ailment or injury."

"Powers of the Anguis? What the hell is that?"

"Oh for goodness sake, Harry. Anguis? Serpens? Colubra?"

At Harry's continued look of bewilderment, she heaved a huge sigh of annoyance and rolled her eyes, an exasperated look twisting her features.

"Really, you should know more Latin now that you're a Hogwarts professor… Snake, Harry! Snake! Anguis means snake in Latin. The spells referred to in this passage are obviously meant to be performed by a Parselmouth! And you loathe speaking in Parseltongue, Harry! So not only will you be performing a Dark Spell, you'll also have to speak it using the language bestowed on you by Voldemort. You told me yourself how much you hate–"

"What's the name of the book? We may have it here among the others." Harry blurted out, interrupting her fervent warning and completely disregarding her stern words.

Yes, he despised his ability to speak Parseltongue, his last remaining link to the monster that had killed so many people dear to him. In fact, he was certain that this particular rare Slytherin talent would have died right along with the founder's heir, but for some reason it had remained. Despite his revulsion for it, Harry would use it if it meant Severus regaining the use of his voice.

"The book is entitled Sinuous Tenebris: The Power to Incite," Hermione explained, her tone quite effective in conveying her disgust with what might be lurking within its pages.

Squatting on the floor and sorting through the lofty pile by flinging book after book onto the ground two at a time with feverish haste, Harry located the correct one at last, ignoring the potent glare from Hermione for treating the books so carelessly. He made quick work of rifling though its brittle pages, pausing only when his eyes settled upon a chapter entitled, Unlawful Healing: Anguis Evocation for Physical Restoration.

"This is it, Hermione. There are dozens of spells here. Wait... I think... Yes! Here. Look, this last one seems right."

He stood up and motioned for an irritated-looking Hermione, who already seemed more than eager to be through with this conversation, to come closer. She acquiesced, moving to stand next to Harry so that she could see which spell he had found. Her eyes widened after only a moment of reading and she snatched the book away from Harry before he'd even finished scanning the passage.

"Hermione! I was still reading that!"

She ignored him, her eyes frantically moving back and forth across the worn yellowed parchment. She turned a page. Then another.

"Hermione... may I have that back please?"

At long last, she looked up. Harry was astonished to see an exuberant grin stretched across her face where a scowl had been only moments before.

"What?" Harry asked, a little unnerved by her swift reversal of demeanor.

"Harry... do you know what this spell does?"

"Yes, Hermione, I'm the one who pointed it out you, if you recall. It repairs tissue damage, even those cases sited as irreversible. That's why I think this might actually be the right–"

"No... I mean, yes, of course, It does do that. You're right. It would definitely heal Severus' vocal chords, but it will also deplete your ability to speak Parseltongue... permanently!"

"What?!"

"Yes! Look, it states it right here...

Ultimum Panacis Spell:

When spoken in the sacred language during the final brewing phase of an Excoriation Elixir, this spell will call upon the full force of the Anguis to heal. The mediocre strength of the Excoriation Elixir will be magically enhanced to heal any irreversible tissue, bone or physical impairment the drinker is afflicted with, but not without an extreme cost. The Parselmouth will permanently lose his or her ability to speak and understand the sacred language immediately following the casting of Ultimum Panacis, thus it is advised that this potent spell only be used in dire circumstances.

"And then it goes on to explain the proper wand movement and how to brew the Excoriation Elixir, which strangely enough, looks to be extremely simple..." Hermione explained, her tone sounding very similar to her teaching timbre.

"So... wait. What your saying is... if I cast this spell while brewing this... this Excoriation Elixir... I'll not only create a potion powerful enough to heal Severus, but I'll also be rid of this wretched language? Just by performing this spell?"

Hermione nodded, her smile beaming, "Yes, that is exactly what I'm saying."

"Holy shit!"

To Be Continued...

A/N: My apologies to those of you who are anxiously awaiting my next chapter of Gray Skye Mourning. But don't worry! I haven't forgotten about it. It is coming along and will be posted in a few weeks' time.

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