Disclaimer: I do not own the world of Harry Potter. I'm just borrowing them for a bit. I make no money off of this. Please don't sue me!

Chapter Twelve: Harry and Severus

When Harry and Draco reappeared onto the Malfoy property, they came face to face with two rather irate wizards.

Lucius Malfoy seemed to be carved from ice and steel. Professor Snape, however, was so angry he was vibrating where he stood.

"Where have the both of you been!" The Potions Master's voice lashed over them.

Harry had little time to worry about their wrath. As soon as he reappeared, his left leg went out on him. The world went hazy at the edges. His chest felt constricted, sore and he couldn't seem to get enough air.

"Harry?"

"Potter?"

"Draco, what is the meaning of this?"

"Harry!"

Strong arms picked him up from the ground. "I will be having words with you later, Draco." Snape did not spare another glance for the boy as he strode for the Manor, his charge held tight in his arms.

Harry felt the world tumble around him. "I'm fine," he wheezed out. "It's just a shock," he tried to push at the man holding him. "I can walk, Professor. Really."

"Don't speak such nonsense, Potter. You collapsed. You were outside, specifically when I ordered you back to bed. Do you have any idea how you could have set yourself back? The potions have just begun to work." The Professor's snarl made Harry want to curl up somewhere and hide.

"Sir, I'm sorry," he tried again.

"Save your protestations and apologies for another time, Potter. Right now I am not interested."

"But sir…" Harry didn't get another word out as they entered the Manor. The pressure in his chest twisted the air from his lungs. He tried to turn, to get the older man to put him down.

"Stop this wiggling, Potter, immediately."

But all Harry could do was shake his head. Snape must have seen something in his expression, for the long legs stopped, kneeled to the ground and set him down.

Harry turned over onto his stomach. His back bowed as he wretched, trying to clear his chest. He wanted to cough. He wanted to pound his hands on the floor. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe.

His second attempt at vomiting worked, much to his surprise. Blood flowed from his mouth, splashing across the aged wooden floors with an obscene sound. Harry drew in a lungful of precious air. Then he was vomiting again. His breakfast came up. His lunch with the goddess of motherhood was close behind it. He kept retching until he was convinced he'd thrown up his liver, stomach and all other organs in the vicinity.

He was aware of movement around him. Spells that cleaned up the bloody mess he'd made. Worried house elves ran about, getting bowls for the Professor, a towel for Draco who was at Harry's side. Harry didn't know when the blond had gotten there, but he leaned against the bent knees and tried to catch his breath.

"Potter," he heard Snape say. Harry wilted a little, inside. He wanted the Professor to call him Harry. But I've gone and bollixed that up, he closed his eyes.

There was a pause and then, "Harry." The Professor waited until green eyes opened. "Drink this."

Harry tried to take the vial from the man's hand. It was the potion he detested, but worked the best. They'd been trying to wean his system off of it, but the amount of damage he'd done to his internal organs, Harry supposed, must have been worth it.

He couldn't hold the vial without spilling it. Draco took his hand and together they got him to sip it down. Harry was glad the blond hadn't just taken then thing from him. It gave him the illusion that he could do it on his own.

Harry could feel the potion spreading through his system. It was starting to make him sleepy, every time he took it, but he wasn't sure why. His hand dropped away from Draco's. He could feel his eyes begin to close.

"I've got him." Harry couldn't be sure, but the Professor's voice sounded suspiciously soft. As though…as though he cared, came the muzzy thought. But that's not right. Professor Snape tolerates me. He's concerned. Not caring. The thoughts chased themselves as the world revolved around him. Strong arms were under him again, lifting him with ease. The door to his room opened. The clothes he was wearing were Vanished away. A few cleaning spells removed the lingering odor of his embarrassment.

I must remember to apologize to Mr. Malfoy, Harry tried to remember. I hope the house elves aren't too mad at me. I didn't mean to be a bother. I could clean it for them. I know buckets…He pushed at the covers.

"Mr. Potter. Harry. Stay put."

"…'s all right. Can clean it up…"

"Mr. Potter?"

"Didn't mean…" The world was getting further and further away. "…'s a bad mess. Sorry, Aunt Petunia. I'll…clean it…up…" But the blankets were too heavy for his arms too move. Gravity dragged his eyelids down. Sleep took him before he could hear her strident answer.

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There were very few times when Severus Snape regretted leaving the Death Eater ranks. It wasn't even the thought of serving the Dark Lord which made him regret, oh no. It was the freedom they had had in slaughtering the pesky muggles that he once so detested.

The boy's confused ramblings had ratcheted his fury up to heights he had rarely gone to. He turned on the other culprit in the room. Draco paid him little mind, much to his rage-fogged brain. The blond's sole focus was the boy in the bed.

"Just what in Merlin's name did you think you were doing!"

"Don't shout," the boy had the temerity to snap. "You'll wake him up."

"A dancing chorus line of Veelas couldn't wake the boy up!"

"Well, of course they couldn't. He doesn't fancy them."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. "Get. Out."

"No. You get out."

He could feel his blood pressure soar. "Excuse me?" He knew his tone had gone deadly soft.

Draco's gray eyes flicked over him, even as he arranged himself on the edge of the bed. "You're clearly in no state to speak to anyone. Go away. When you've calmed down, and Harry's gotten some sleep, come back. Then we'll talk."

"Young man, you and I will talk right now!"

"No, we won't." Draco turned to him, hands resting limp and calm in his lap. But something about his posture made Severus want to step back. A light had entered the boy's eyes. A dangerous light that made chills go up and down Severus' spine.

"Harry needed to go out." He held up a hand to forestall Severus' snarl. "Harry hates being cooped up. Think about it, Professor." The title came off as an insult. "A room may be large, as grand as a palace, but to be trapped in it, day after day, it begins to shrink. Right down to the size of broom closet, say. Or even a cupboard under the stairs."

Severus rocked back on his heels. "He has told you of it?"

"He didn't need to." The glitter grew. Severus could have sworn light was shining from Draco's eyes. "Rumors abounded during fourth year. We all knew. But we never said a word."

"Why not?"

A graceful lift and fall of one shoulder was his answer.

"We are still going to have a conversation about your idiocy," Severus tried to regain some of his former anger.

"No, we won't."

"Draco," Lucius said from the door. "Your manners."

"My manners," the blond lifted his eyebrows. "Are right in line with yours. Now, as I was trying to explain, Harry needed to go outside. He also," he cast a dire look at the adults, "had some practice to get in."

Severus sputtered. "Practice? In his condition! Draco are you out of your mind?"

"I thought he was." The boy shook his head. "But he was right. You should have seen him." The light was dimming. The boy Severus had known from infancy seemed to be coming back by inches. "He was fine in the Otherworld. Whole. Healthy."

Severus frowned. "Healthy?" He stepped towards the boy. "But he became violently ill!"

"I know." Draco sighed. "I don't know why. But when we were there, he was better than I have seen him in a long time."

"What, exactly, did you see in this adventure?" Lucius' cool tones cut through the room.

"A goddess." Severus clenched his fists at his sides. "A goddess of motherhood, to be exact."

The Potions Master exchanged a worried glance with his lover. "And what did this goddess say?"

"She was quite helpful." Draco tilted his chin up. "In fact, I think she gave us a very large piece of the puzzle we were missing."

"That does not excuse what you did."

"True. But it needed to be done."

"But not now!"

"When then?" Draco challenged. "When the Blacks come banging on our door, demanding Harry back? When school comes round and we're being watched by everyone? When?"

Lucius, Severus saw with some enjoyment, had no answer for that question either.

"So," Draco spread his hands. "It is now or never. If we do not learn to control this, it will control us. And I," the glitter returned. "I will not have anyone or anything control me."

Lucius' mouth thinned down to a firm line. "A perfectly Slytherin ideal."

"Indeed." The son and father stared at each other. The father cracked first. The Malfoy patriarch moved into the room, taking a seat in one of the overstuffed chairs near the bed.

"Was it painful?" Curiosity had replaced the anger. Severus could still see shards of the worry and anger in his lover's gaze. He knew Draco could see them too. He took the chair next to Lucius, his movements stiff and jerky.

"The crossing?" Severus found himself intrigued as well, though his rage was nowhere near close to the banking point as Lucius' was. "No, the crossing wasn't painful at all."

"Did it cause any harmful impediment?"

"Aside from the very full lunch I had, no."

Severus' fingers dug into his legs. "You ate there?" He wanted to reach out to the boy. "What on earth possessed you to do such a foolish thing? You could have been trapped."

The eye roll brought the teenager back into Draco's eyes. "I'd already taken the Vision Potion." The reminder of the night when Lucius almost lost his son made the older blond go rigid. "Because of that, I could eat there. Though Gwenn…"

"Gwenn?"

"The goddess," Draco waved a hand. "She said the worlds were so close together now, that mortals might be able to eat with impunity there."

"You will not eat there again." Lucius' command was undercut by a note of fear. By the sharp look Draco gave his father, the boy had heard it as well.

"No, I suppose I won't." The young man acquiesced with grace. "But we will have to go back."

"No, you will not."

"We are bound to. Pythia has set us this task. This we must do."

Severus' jaw was beginning to ache from the pressure. "You will not."

Gray eyes, cut with light, raked over him. "And, to quote her, how are you going to stop us?"

Severus leaned back in his chair, shocked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Harry is a Seer. The goddess named him Dreamer while we were there, but I'm beginning to think it means much the same thing. The Otherworld is as much as Harry's reality as this one is. As that blasted muggle world is." Draco leaned forward, pinning them with his gaze. "That is my world now, by choice, by happenstance, by whatever you wish to call it. But where Harry goes, I'm bound to follow. And if you don't want us stumbling into situation which we cannot control, then I would advise you to have us practice as much as possible so this ability, which you view as an impediment, can become our weapon, our tool."

Severus found himself able to breath again. "You do have an argument," he managed to force out between his teeth.

"And have you thought how this will affect your life, Draco?" Lucius was still on defensive.

"In what way?" The young man had the gall to look composed and calm. Severus' nerves were ready to dance out of his skin.

"Your future, a career if you wish to pursue it. An heir, Draco. How do you mean to accomplish these things?"

Draco tilted his head to one side. "And when did I say I wanted any of these things?"

Lucius' hands tightened on his cane. "The Malfoy line…"

"Will continue just as well if we adopt an heir. The Familius spell takes care of that."

Severus blinked. And blinked again. "So you have thought of it."

"It has crossed my mind."

"And yet you are determined to stay close to this boy, no matter the cost."

The graceful nod of the head was their only answer.

"He could die, Draco! And then what?"

"He won't die." The cold tone took Severus back. "I won't let him die."

"Not even you can stop that."

The chin jutted out in a pose Severus knew all too well. "We shall see about that."

The older Malfoy looked to Severus for help. He leaned forward. "If the response to you being in the Otherworld is such a violent reaction on Potter –,"

"His name is Harry."

"Fine. If such a violent response is Harry's only alternative –,"

"We don't know that it is."

"Excuse me?"

"We don't know if a violent response is the way Harry will always react when he comes back from the Otherworld. This time it could have been a number of things. You were weaning him off the healing potion, yes? That response is in line for withdrawal. The potion does contain some narcotic in it."

Severus frowned at the boy. "Yes, but…"

"And we don't know what all these potions are doing to his body in the first place. We're forcing them down his throat with the hopes, hopes that it will repair his nervous system. Have any of these actually been tested?"

"Within reason, yes…"

"And for that matter," a new glint had entered the boy's eyes. "Which one of you thought it best to inform Scrimgeour that Harry is at our Manor!"

The adults shared a guilty look. "That would be both of us, Draco," Lucius said.

"Why?"

"Because," Lucius looked down his nose at his son, "Scrimgeour is our best and only option to get Fudge out of office. If you had been paying attention to the political world," the older man sniffed. "You would have noticed that the other candidate is basing his platform on truth."

"And will he, in the efforts to be truthful, since it will be apparent to all and sundry that you went to him to get Rayne for Harry, blab the location of the boy half the wizarding world wants to murder and the other half wants to throw him Azkaban!"

"Do be calm, Draco."

"I am calm, thank you. I am as calm as I can be, thinking about this deplorable loop in your reasoning."

"It is not a loop. You do not know everything, young man."

"Then please, by all means, explain it."

But Lucius said nothing, merely leaning back in his chair and settling his hands on his cane. Severus wasn't sure which Malfoy he wanted to curse more.

"Ah, so we're to play that game."

"Life," Lucius' tone was glacial, "is not a game. Not this."

"Perhaps to you."

"You are my son!"

"Yes, I am."

Lucius blinked a number of times. "Yet you disobey me."

"I will, from time to time. It is as most young people do when they grow up."

"This is my house!"

"Would you have me leave it then? Just when I begin to show some sense of my own?"

"Draco!" The older Malfoy looked scandalized. "I would never."

"Then we are at an impasse." Draco frowned and turned to the sleeping boy on the bed. As he turned, Harry began to moan and mutter. Draco rested a hand on the boy's chest. Harry went back to sleep.

Severus watched the exchange. The child he had all but helped raise was growing up. He had chosen a path they had not expected from him. Lucius caught his eye and frowned, but the anger was gone from his gaze. They, too, knew what it was to choose a path that would put them in danger, though for different reasons.

"You will not practice without supervision," Severus said after a moment of silence.

"You want to come with us?"

He blinked at the boy. "What?"

Draco turned back around. "We can take you with us, though I'm not sure if we can protect you there."

"You, protect me?"

Draco's smile was a sliver of white teeth against pale lips. "Together, Harry and I are powerful. Strong. A force to be reckoned with. But with a passenger, I do not know how we will fare."

Severus laced his fingers together in his lap. The negotiation was on. "A valid point." The boy had the gall to look smug. "However…" He had more tricks up his sleeve than the boy had years. He would win this fight, whatever it took.

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The world was in a decidedly better state when Harry next woke. It was after dark and while his body was more than willing to go back to sleep, his bladder had other things on its mind.

This time he managed to push the covers off his body and swing his legs around to the floor. A small part of him was upset that he did not find Draco in the room. He squashed that voice with a vicious mental stomp. Quite being such a baby, he set his sights on the door to the loo. It wasn't very far from the bed. He could make it. You've been through worse than this. Get moving.

Standing up was easy. The first step was painless. Halfway to the door, he was hunched over and all but crawling to get to the toilet.

Finishing his business was an interesting ordeal he was fast to excise from his mind. He braced himself in the doorway, panting, trying to determine whether or not he could make it to the bed without falling down and alarming the house elves, and thus, his hosts.

Before he could summon the courage to take the first step, the door to his room opened. Instead of Draco, which was his hope, Severus Snape came into the room with a tray balanced on one hand.

He stopped with a small jerk when he caught sight of the empty bed. Before he could raise the alarm, Harry said, "Hello, Professor."

The Potions Master all but dropped the tray he was holding. The recovery was graceful, which Harry envied in his current state.

"Potter." The dreaded tone was back. Harry turned his face away, so the older man could not read his expression.

"Sorry, sir. I had to use the loo." He still had yet to let go of the doorframe. He wasn't sure if his legs would hold him yet. Bloody big baby, the nasty voice had returned. Always such a burden. Always such a cry for attention. Brought this on yourself, you did. Harry swallowed back responses to the voice and tested his legs. They would hold.

"I'll just get back into bed now," he tried to take a step. The Professor was there, sans tray, to catch him before he fell.

"Well then," Harry tried to joke. "Sorry, sir."

"Potter…" Snape's growl made Harry's heart turn over in his chest. "Come along." Instead of the biting insult, or even the sharp bark of disapproval he'd been expecting, the man helped him to his bed and into it. He did refrain from tucking Harry in, for which he was eternally grateful. Snape? See me to bed and fuss over me? I don't think so.

Once he was settled, Snape passed him the tray. Or rather, slid the tray across his knees, since Harry could not hold it.

He held out his hands and studied the tremors. "They're better today," he noted.

"You cannot hold a tray, Mr. Potter. How is that better?"

"Yes, well, I was holding myself up in the door without problem. Thus, it is better. Besides, see?" He held out one hand. "Barely moving. That means it's better."

"Your never ending supply of optimism astounds me."

The food on his lap was mostly paste, a mash of rice and vegetables and something he couldn't identify. "Well, someone's got to be optimistic. Otherwise we'd all gloom ourselves into defeat."

"Most un-Slytherin."

"Well, I'm trying."

"Trying what?"

"To be an un-gloomy, optimistic former Gryffindor who is now a Slytherin."

"There are times, Mr. Potter, when I wonder about your sanity."

"You and the rest of the world, I'm sure." Harry still hadn't met the man's gaze. He knew his Professor was livid with him. He didn't want to hear it, not really. He was having enough trouble with the insidious little voice in his head. He took a forkful of rice and tried it.

"Do eat it all, Mr. Potter. We had the same downstairs."

"Is it dinnertime, then?" Harry cast a quick glance at the man.

"If you are inquiring as to why your constant companion is not here, then yes, it is dinnertime and the Malfoys had a prior engagement they could not put off."

"Oh." Harry knew Draco had parties he had to attend because of his name. He'd been lucky that the blond had been free for the time that he'd had.

"Mr. Potter." The dreaded name. Harry didn't like it when the Professor called him by his formal name. He'd hoped they had gotten past it. But then you go and mess it up again, the return of the thought made what little of his appetite he had disappear.

"Yes, sir?"

"What were you thinking, earlier today?"

"Which earlier? Because just a while ago, I was thinking I had to go to the loo."

"Potter."

"Yes, sir?"

"Answer the question, if you please."

Harry set his fork on the plate. "If you want to take me back to the Dursley's, you can. I know I've been a bother, sir. I didn't mean to." He wrestled up what was left of his courage and looked the man in the eye.

What he saw surprised him. "What in the name of Merlin are you blathering on about?"

"I've become a problem, haven't I? I've gotten Draco into trouble, made you go to the Auror's office. You don't need that kind of…"

"Stop, Mr. Potter."

"But if you take me back, the Minister can just declare that I've been there the whole time…"

"Stop."

Harry stopped, sucked in his lower lip and stared at the man.

The Potions Master – Harry really couldn't think of calling the man by his given name – leaned forward in his chair. "Mr. Potter. Harry. We are, by no means, ever taking you back to the Dursley's. Ever again. As for the estimable Auror Rayne," he flicked his fingers. "It was merely a way to call in some ancient debts I doubt I would have ever used."

"Still, sir, you didn't need to –,"

"I wanted to, Potter." That stopped Harry cold.

"But why?" The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "I'm sorry. It doesn't matter. You'd do the same for any Slytherin. I'm going to shut up now." Harry ducked his head and stared at his plate.

"Is it so surprising, Mr. Potter, that some people, aside from that mutt of a godfather of yours, shows some interest in your life?"

"When you call me Mr. Potter it does."

"Pardon me?"

Harry stayed silent.

"Harry." He looked up at the use of his given name. "Does it bother you when I use your last name?"

"No, of course not."

"Lying, Harry, is a talent I shall have to get Draco to teach you."

Harry looked away. "It's just…you call me Mr. Potter when you're angry at me. And you have every right to be, I guess."

"You guess?"

Harry let out a sigh. "Sir, to be honest, the Malfoy Manor is nice and all, but I'd really like to go out sometimes."

"That was all it would have taken to get out, Harry."

He frowned and looked back at the man. "I'm sorry?"

Long fingers laced together. "You are not used to being able to ask for things and having them happen, are you?"

Harry wanted to edge away from the man. "Isn't this something I should be talking about with Auror Rayne?"

"More than likely."

They stared at each other.

"Was that all, sir?" The man's gaze was beginning to become unnerving.

"No."

Drat. Harry went back to his meal. The food was decent, if soft. The rice had a nice flavor to it.

"Draco has put quite an argument to the both of you practicing, as he called it, walking in the Otherworld."

"He did?" His fork stopped halfway to his mouth.

"Indeed. Such a good argument that we have agreed, both Lucius and I, that you should continue to do so. However," the word spiraled down an octave at Harry's happy smile. "There are conditions."

"Conditions?"

"Yes. The first is that neither of you shall leave or practice without the other there."

"Okay."

"I'm not finished. Eating, Harry, would be best while I continue."

"Yes, sir."

"The other conditions are as apply. When you and Draco decide to practice, there will be either Lucius or myself there for when you both leave and return. You are going to be taken off the potion you so detest immediately – and while you may be happy at the moment, Mr. Potter, your system will not be happy for several days."

Harry's stomach dropped. "Will it be bad?"

"I have no idea. However, if a problem ensues, we shall conquer it. I do not want another reaction like the one today."

"Me either."

"Eat, Mr. Potter."

"Yes, sir."

Professor Snape drew in a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment and then continued on. "Harry." He cleared his throat. "You will inform one of us when you need something, is that clear?"

"Sir?"

"You are not our prisoner, Harry. You have free reign of the household and properties, within reason. Your impediment, however, worries me. I would like to have someone with you at all times should you decide to go wandering about."

"Really? I can leave the room?"

"We never meant for you to have the notion otherwise."

Harry beamed a smile at the man. "Thank you, sir."

"Please, Harry. Do call me something other than sir."

"Yes, Professor."

An expression passed across the wizard's face too fast for Harry to read. "As for the rest of the conditions…"

"There's more?"

"Yes, now eat. The rest are thus: you and Draco will study this Otherworld before either of you head into it. There are a number of old books in the Malfoy library that I'm sure will be of help. Each time you come back from the Otherworld, you will write everything down that you can remember."

"What about using a Pensive?"

"We thought it better that you keep your memories, Harry, since knowing the place names of the areas you visit shall come in handy."

"Yes, sir." Harry turned his attention back to his plate with a stern mental reminder to shut up and eat. He couldn't try the man's patience forever.

"You will at all times avoid dangerous situations. Should something happen, leave immediately."

"But…" Harry squashed the protest.

"But what?"

"But what if we can't?"

"Then run away." Snape's eyes were chipped slices of obsidian. "Your death does the world no good, Mr. Potter. You and Mr. Malfoy will run away, not towards, danger. You are a Slytherin now, do try to remember. We do not charge into situations we do not understand."

"I'll try, sir."

"Do endeavor to do more than try."

"Yes, sir."

"Good. That is all." Snape leaned back in his chair.

Harry glanced from the man, to his plate and back again. "Was there something else?"

"No."

"Then why are you staying?"

"Because I want to, Harry."

Harry managed a few more mouthfuls of food before he had to push the plate away. "You don't have to, sir. I'm sure you have things to do."

"No, at the moment I do not."

"But I'm done. I'm sorry I couldn't eat more…"

"My purpose in staying here was not to watch you eat, Potter."

Harry was baffled. "I'm fine, sir. It's really boring to watch someone stare at a wall. You don't need to stay."

"Yes, but as you have not heard me yet, Harry, I said I wanted to stay."

"Stay and do what?"

"Would you care for a game of some sort?"

Tell him you want to play Exploding Snap, came a devilish thought. Harry tried not to show his surprise. "Well, I…" He cast about. Snape didn't seem like the time to play cards, and the only game Harry knew was Rummy. "Chess?" He offered.

"You enjoy the game?"

"Not really, sir. Ron…" His voice faltered. "Ron was always better at it than me. Took the fun out of it, losing to him all the time."

The older man seemed on the verge of saying something, and then changed his mind. "There are a number of choices downstairs. Or would you prefer to stay in bed?"

"I can get out?"

"If you can."

Harry pushed back his covers and got to his feet. His pajamas were rumbled and his feet cold. He looked for his socks. He found a pair in the nightstand and slipped them on. He was a bit cold, but shrugged it off. He'd been through worse.

Snape was at the door with a robe hanging from one hand. "Do stay warm, Harry. A cold, even at this stage in your healing process, would be quite a set back."

"Yes, sir." He slid into the heavy robe. It fell to his feet and was quite thick. He belted it and looked up at his teacher.

"This way," Snape said and swept out of the room. Harry followed on shaky feet, but managed his own way down the stairs, through the halls and into the den.

It was a perfect way to spend an evening.

End Chapter Twelve