Chapter 21

As Harry took a shower, he kept formulating theories of places and reasons why the Snapes would have gone away so precipitously. They had looked afraid before departing, and it had left Harry with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. What if they were in danger? They would have warned him, wouldn't they? Severus had tried to mask it, but Harry could have sworn he was in pain. Why would he? Besides, Skyrah seemed to know what was going on the moment they exchanged looks. Whatever the matter was, it definitely wasn't the first time they faced it.

The moment he got out of the shower and climbed down the stairs, the Snapes apparated back home. What the boy witnessed didn't seem real at all. He could only stare at them agape and with wide eyes. Skyrah looked half-dead and her clothes were tainted with blood, stained with mud, unconscious in her husband's arms. Severus was sweating, breathing hard. His expression was of utter panic and regret. Harry's eyes narrowed in fury the moment he noted his Professor was wearing Death Eater robes and sustaining his mask with some difficulty, trying to hold his wife bridal style safely at the same time.

"You! You are one of them, a Death Eater! What have you done to her?!" the boy screamed from the top of his lungs, pointing his wand at Severus.

"Dammit, Potter! There is no time to explain now! Floo call Madam Pomfrey! We'll be waiting upstairs! Hurry up!"

Severus didn't wait for a response. All he cared about was Skyrah and their baby girl. He rushed to their bedroom and laid his wife in bed with exceptional care, sitting next to her. Despite his trembling pulse, he managed to put a rebel lock of hair behind her ear, uncovering her extremely pale face. He leaned in and kissed her forehead with a gentleness he thought he possessed not. Then, he unfastened a few buttons so that her belly was visible and, slowly, he bowed his head until his lips kissed her skin there.

He brushed her womb with a shaky hand and whispered, praying that his child was still alive and could somehow hear him, "Please, be strong for your mother. Be strong for me. I don't care if you hate me the rest of your life, just," he gulped, and tried to hold back the tears which were threatening to fall down his cheeks, "just live."

His voice had cracked. He could feel a lump forming in his throat as he turned his attention back to his wife, caressing her cheek like she had always done to him. Her skin was cold. Her touch had never been cold, not even the day they got married, when they were total strangers. When the realization came to his mind, he broke down. He took Skyrah in his arms, sobbing irrepressibly.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry…"

Meanwhile, Harry hurried to floo call the medi-witch, as instructed.

"Mr. Potter? Why are you calling me from Professor Snape's home?" came the familiar voice.

"It's a long story. You have to come here. Skyrah's bleeding!"

"Who's Skyrah?"

Harry groaned when he realized that just like Minerva, Poppy did not know about the marital arrangement. Why were the Snapes so bloody secretive?

"Snape's wife."

The moment he said it, the witch apparated in the living room.

"Come on! They're upstairs!" said Harry.

While they were climbing the stairs, she breathed out, "I can't believe he didn't tell me he was married."

"Not many people know about it."

They reached the end of the stairs only to hear wrenching sobs. Poppy and Harry looked at each other worriedly before getting in the bedroom. Harry hadn't been prepared for the sight. He had never imagined that his Professor had the capacity of crying or of showing so much emotion. But he wasn't only crying, he was sobbing, slowly rocking Skyrah in his arms, desperately holding onto her as if his sanity depended on it while the hopeless tears fell off of his black eyes. He was still wearing the Death Eaters robes, but, in that moment, Harry saw nothing but a wrecked, helpless man. Severus kissed her forehead once more before gazing at Poppy, who was already running to them.

"P-please… Do something," he begged without loosening the grasp on his wife.

"What happened?" she demanded, noticing the blood flowing from the woman's body.

"Cr-cruciatus curse… She..." He gulped. "She was pregnant. Please, please tell me our baby s-survived. Tell me my daughter will live. Tell me my wife will be all right."

Harry gaped. Skyrah was pregnant? Since when? Why hadn't they told him? He felt his heart breaking for the Snapes. He had never thought Snape would like to have a child, and the thought of baby Snapes had managed to make him shudder more than once. For Merlin's sake! He even had nightmares about it! Nevertheless, seeing the usually stern man pleading like mad for his unborn daughter to be alive and showing so much vulnerability made Harry's stomach lurch. He didn't want to imagine what Skyrah's reaction would be if the baby didn't make it.

Claiming that Poppy was utterly shaken was a big understatement.

However, being the professional she was, she forgot about the shockwave and commanded, "Get out of the room and wait. You know I work better alone." Severus shook his head and tightened his grip on his wife. "If I need anything I'll call you, I promise. But you need to let me work, for your child and wife's sake. Please. We have no time to waste."

Severus held back a sob and slowly stood up, hesitant to go. He kissed Skyrah's cold lips and glanced at Poppy, who seemed to read his mind, for she guaranteed, "I'll do everything in my power to save the baby and to make sure your wife's fine, I swear. Now go."

Harry and Severus walked out of the room unwillingly but remained upstairs anyway. Severus was showing his back to Harry. No matter how hard Severus tried, he couldn't stop hearing Skyrah's screams. He couldn't erase the sight of her curling in pain on the mud, desperately covering her womb, trying to protect their unborn child. The tears, even though he had managed to reduce them to silent ones, wouldn't stop coming to his eyes. His hands were shaking violently.

"Sir?"

"Go away, Potter."

His voice came weaker than intended.

"But-"

Turning around so that they were face to face, Severus hissed, "Get. Out. Of. My. Sight."

Harry had never seen so much agony in someone's eyes. Understanding it was a delicate moment for Severus, he went downstairs and gave him space.

More than two awfully stressful hours passed before Harry heard the medi-witch climbing down the stairs. He turned around to face her, only to find a desolate expression on her face and a downcast composure. She didn't speak, but Harry knew that the Snapes, the same people who had welcomed him home, bought him clothes, cooked for him, taught him and looked after him, the same people who he had grown to care about so much, had just lost their baby girl. Harry couldn't think of anything worse to happen to a just married couple.

He made to go upstairs with the intention to provide some comfort, as little as it might be, but Poppy grabbed his arm.

"Do not disturb their privacy, Mr. Potter. Losing a child is never easy; especially if it was a wanted child. Give Severus some time."

By the tone of her voice and the expression on her face, Harry got the impression that she was talking from experience.

"How's Skyrah?"

"She's as physically fine as she can be, considering what she's been through. I don't expect her to wake up today, though."

Harry gulped and nodded.

Madam Pomfrey was about to leave, when she said, "Mr. Potter? I don't know what you are doing here, but maybe it is a good thing that they aren't on their own. Make sure Severus eats; I have never seen him so..." she trailed off, searching for the correct term, "broken. I'm afraid he will forget to take care of himself. Look after them for me, will you? If something else happens or if tomorrow she doesn't wake up, do not hesitate to call me."

With that said, Poppy took her leave, leaving the boy wondering why the hell she hadn't freaked out or commented on the Death Eater robes.

When Severus didn't make an appearance in the kitchen at half past twelve, Harry knew he wouldn't be making lunch. Biting his lip, he looked for something to cook in the fridge and got to work. Half an hour later, he placed the dishes he had just prepared on a tray and climbed up the stairs.

The bedroom's door was half-open, so he had to softly kick it to enter. There was no trace of blood which had tainted the bedsheets before. Severus was lying down on the bed, hiding his head on Skyrah's shoulder, a protective arm draped over her waist. Her face hadn't completely recovered the color, but at least, she didn't look half-dead anymore. He cleared his throat to alert Severus that he wasn't alone with his wife any longer. Severus, now in his usual robes, didn't acknowledge his presence. It was either that, or he was completely, willingly ignoring him.

"Sir?"

Silence.

"I made lunch."

Still no response.

"I promised Madam Pomfrey you would eat something."

This seemed to get a reaction out of the broken man, even if he didn't move one inch.

Snorting, he said in a half-suffocated voice, "Funny. I don't recall needing a baby-sitter. I always managed to survive alone."

Harry would have never thought he'd be so happy to hear his Potions Professor making a snarky comment. There was hope.

"Well, that was before you decided to stick your body to the bed and accidentally forget that human bodies need nutrients and water to keep going, sir," the boy replied with sass.

"I don't recall asking for your opinion either, Potter."

"Well, that's too bad. You will hear it anyway. Skyrah wouldn't want you to starve to death."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"She loves you. When one loves somebody else, they want the best for them. So eat."

Severus doubted Skyrah would feel anything similar to love for him the moment she woke up, but he shooed the thought away and gave Harry the silent treatment, hoping he'd leave him alone. To his dismay, after two full minutes, the boy was still standing on the doorway, holding the plate with the dishes.

"I'm not going away until you eat, sir. Like it or not."

Exploding, Severus rose abruptly and walked towards the boy. Harry had no idea how he had managed to get up so fast. He got so close their noses bumped.

"Dammit, Potter! Can't you take a hint! I have just lost my daughter. My wife, the only person who genuinely cares for me, will hate me for the rest of her days! I don't need nor fancy your company! I just need to hold her in my arms before she wakes up and realizes that I disgust her so much she cannot even look at me. So yes, getting nutrients and water to my human body, as you put it, is not in my top to-do-list. Leave me the hell alone!"

The boy gulped. He had never seen Severus so mad, and that was saying a lot, considering he had taught him for four years and got more than a few detentions with him.

"I'm not going away until you eat something."

They stared at each other with defiance for a long time.

"I am a Death Eater, Potter," he said, rolling his sleeve to prove it to him. "Why do you care whether I eat?"

Harry cringed at the sight of his Dark Mark. He had seen it once, by the end of fourth year. After living under the same roof though, he had grown to believe Severus had been a Death Eater once, but not anymore. Why would he welcome him home, otherwise? Why would he act as if he cared for him? A real Death Eater would have killed him or brought him to Voldemort a long time ago. It made no sense.

"I-I… Madam Pomfrey has seen them, too. Your Death Eater robes, I mean. She hasn't run away. And Professor Dumbledore wouldn't have let me stay over with someone loyal to Voldemort. I've given it some thought. If you had wanted to kill me, I would already be dead. You wouldn't even have saved me during my first year, in the Quidditch match. I think I deserve an explanation, but right now it is not important. Only Skyrah matters."

They stared at each other for a few moments before Harry continued, "Death Eater or not, she loves you. She wouldn't want you and me to argue over something which is necessary for your well-being, sir. Besides," he trailed off, vacillating a little before confessing, "Skyrah isn't the only one who cares for you. I do, too, despite our past. So please accept the food. I promise I will leave you alone and come back thirty minutes later to collect the dirty dishes."

When Severus heard the boy telling him that he cared for him, he felt a strange feeling in his stomach. He felt sick. How could Lily's son care for a monster like him? And at the same time, he wished Harry would say the words again. Reluctantly, Severus took the tray, sat on the bed and started to eat.

"Is it so fascinating to observe the way I eat? Get. Out."

Herry left with a victorious grin on his face.

As promised, he came back half an hour later to pick up the dishes. He noticed Severus was still holding his spouse in his arms. This time, however, he could see his eyes looking at nothing in concrete. Some tears fell down his cheeks as he played with her black wavy hair. While Harry washed the dishes, he couldn't help but think that he would have never thought he'd ever pity the bitter man, and even less care for him. However, once he was done, he went upstairs once again; he couldn't leave Severus alone, no matter what he said, no matter where his true loyalties lay. Predictively, the Snapes were in the same position.

"Sir?"

"I thought you knew better than coming back, Potter. You said you'd leave me alone. I see you are not a man of your word." Like your father, he was tempted to add.

"I-I just thought that you'd appreciate having someone by your side. I-"

"You thought wrong. Leave."

Harry sighed. Stubborn as a mule, he thought.

He was already in the doorway when he said, "I don't know why you believe she'll hate you, but I think that you are wrong. She will need your comfort just as much as you need hers."

Severus pretended Harry hadn't spoken at all.

When dinner time came, Harry and Severus imitated the mechanics from earlier. Harry went to sleep, praying that Skyrah woke up the next day, for everybody's sake. He still wanted an explanation from Severus regarding the Death Eater thing, but he was willing to wait for it, for Skyrah's sake.

Severus woke up only to find his wife asleep in his arms, lying still. Her cheeks were slightly rosy, as usual, and her skin was warm, making Severus sigh in relief and tighten his clutch on her. She would be all right, at least, physically. Against his better judgement, he kissed her forehead and left her alone to have a shower. Back in the bedroom, he saw her giving her back to him, sitting on the bed as if she had been expecting him.

Severus wanted to hold her and whisper sweet words, tell her how afraid he had been of losing her, how sorry he felt for doing this to her, how lost he felt without her, how much he cherished her… He wanted to kiss her senseless, to stay by her side forever. He wanted to cry of happiness upon seeing her awake. Yet, he reprimanded himself, choosing to proceed cautiously. With trembling, insecure footsteps, he made his way until he was face to face with her. The first thing he noticed was her hand covering her womb, as she had done so many times since finding out she was pregnant. The sight broke his heart a little more. Then he gazed at her warm dark brown eyes. But they were not warm. They were empty.

"Skyrah?"

"She's gone, isn't she?"

Her voice had been neutral, and it scared Severus to death. She had her stony mask on, the same mask she wore when she was with her father. It had been a long time since she had looked at Severus without any emotion, and it made him feel a knot in his stomach. Ignoring the lump in his throat, he whispered a yes.

Her fingers grabbed the edge of the bed. She bowed her head so that he couldn't see her face.

"No… Please! My baby…"

He had never heard her speak in such a frail, heart-broken tone. On instinct, he touched her shoulder. The gesture always provided her with comfort.

Not now.

She cringed. As if his touch had burnt her, she pushed herself as far away from him as she could until she reached the other edge of the bed. She was nearly hyperventilating. Her eyes were wide, staring at him with so much fear it made Severus take a step back. He was used to people getting away from him or looking at him afraid. He had always been thankful that others never got too close to him. However, coming from Skyrah, being feared was something his heart couldn't take.

"Skyrah, please…"

"Leave," she said in a dangerously low voice, eyes shut.

"But-"

"I said leave!" she screamed, opening her ferocious eyes. A tear streamed down her face. "Please," she begged in a shattered tone, covering her mouth and averting his black eyes.

Everything he had told Harry, everything the boy had tried to deny, had come true. It felt like a prophecy he had thought had been dodged only to strike again with more force than ever. A little voice in his head had always known that what they had wasn't real, that someone like her would never feel something for him, something different than revulsion or loathing, that is. It had been a voice he hadn't listened to since the day she made love to him and told him she loved him. Now that voice shouted in his head. With a heavy heart, he made his way out, but not before hearing her disconsolate sobs.