Disclaimer: The characters still don't belong to me, just messing around with the plot line.

A/N: AHHHHHH! I'm so sorry. I won't give you all a million excuses, although I have them, haha. Accept this Christmas present as my apology for taking so long. And thank you all for the amazing reviews. I'm exhausted after juggling two jobs and don't feel motivated to write and then I check my email and have a wonderful review that changes my mind.

Extra special thanks to my amazing betas, Jess and Stacy, for finding the time to check this chapter right before Christmas so I could post today. And thanks also to my German translator, Ulli.

From Before…

Severus had paused at the boy's door and turned to give Albus a quick nod of agreement. Harry needed his full attention and time to rest. The obvious fight that would ensue with Sirius Black was not necessary at the moment. Only the ill child inside this room mattered and with that thought in mind Severus crossed the threshold.

Ch. 38 – Now Rest

The pain was evident in every move the potion master made. Albus could see the panic and concern flashing in the stormy dark eyes and the slightest trembling of rage in the man's rigid posture.

As much as Albus hated to see Harry in even more pain than he had already suffered through, it couldn't have presented a better opportunity for Severus to realize how foolish he had been acting as of late. Anyone here now could see how much he had grown to love the boy, although it would take Severus a very long time to ever admit it. True, Harry had his godfather, but it was equally obvious that Severus had become the first stable father figure the boy had ever had, although it would probably take Harry a long time to admit that too. Though Albus surmised Harry was coming around to his realization much quicker, if his actions today were anything to go by.

Albus had always thought the two would benefit from a relationship of some kind, hoping Severus could be a mentor to Harry, sharing his vast knowledge and exceptional magical gifts. Now it was more obvious than ever that Severus and Harry needed each other and the relationship had developed into much more, resembling the care and respect of a father and son.

He only hoped that Severus wouldn't continue to be so stubborn and guarded. If anything, he needed Harry's presence to lighten up his life.

It was with that thought in mind that he decided to manipulate the situation ever so slightly. He had failed Harry too severely by choosing to leave him with the Dursleys and would not allow the chance at this relationship to slip away.

It may not have been fair to wait to notify Sirius, but Harry and Severus needed this chance. And truth be told, Sirius wasn't the most stable person at the moment and didn't need the added worry. The tension between Sirius and Severus would only complicate matters when Harry needed attention and time to recover. In a couple days Harry would be awake and fairing much better and then they could notify Sirius, Albus told himself. And he had no doubt that Severus' self-deprecating streak would ensure he gave Harry the option to call for his godfather.

-SS-

Severus stepped back into Harry's room with his icy composure firmly back in place. He had a plan now and it was easier to push his worry aside to carry out his tasks. Of course the plan wasn't very well formulated, and he really had no idea how far he would go in terms of everything Albus had suggested, but still, he had a plan. He had to heal Harry.

He could see by the empty vials that Madame Pomfrey had administered a few more potions while he had been gone, including an intensive sleeping draught with a pain reliever. A surge of guilt shot through him. He was a Potions Master and hadn't even remained to help Poppy or see if there were any other potions she was in need of.

At the current moment, the Mediwitch was scratching out notes on a clip board, but she glanced up as he approached. She gave him a look of trepidation, unsure of his state of sanity, no doubt. He gave her a small nod before darting his eyes to rake over Harry's body, suddenly realizing the boy was still fully clothed.

As if reading his mind, Poppy spoke up. "I would have transfigured a set of hospital pajamas, but I assumed he has his own here and would be more comfortable in them. I was just about to try summoning a set, but perhaps you could do that for me while I finish his chart," she requested.

"Of course," he answered quietly.

He turned towards the bed and silently summoned one of the new pairs of pajamas he had purchased for Harry, wanting the boy to be as comfortable as possible under the circumstances. A drawer of the bureau opened and the neatly folded set came floating over to rest on the corner of the bed.

Severus carefully pulled Harry's trainers off and tucked them under the bed before a quick spell had the pile of pajamas replaced with the clothes Harry had been wearing. With another flick of his wand, they disappeared off to the laundry and he gently wrestled the covers out from under Harry and then up and over him. Poppy had already removed the boy's glasses and Severus could finally see that he was breathing normally. His skin still didn't have a healthy glow, but Severus would make sure the next few days went as smoothly and painlessly as possible for him until the child's health was completely restored.

Pulling the duvet up to Harry's chin, he let his hand brush some of the boy's fringe away from his forehead. He'd have to see to it that the child received a haircut before school resumed. He smoothed the blankets one last time in a subtle attempt to squeeze Harry's shoulder underneath. He had this strange urge to have some type of physical contact with the child to ensure he really was alright, but he squashed it down before giving his attention back over to Poppy.

The mediwitch began going over all of Harry's injuries and the potion regimen he would need and Severus filed them into his memory, being painstakingly thorough with every minute detail. Of course he would also have Harry's chart, but Severus didn't want to overlook even the tiniest thing.

"As the ingredient in question is naturally poisonous and some did enter his bloodstream through the fumes, even with the antidote you administered his body will run a mild fever to fight off the toxins. Don't be alarmed unless it runs over forty degrees," Madame Pomfrey dictated while pointing at the list of ailments on Harry's chart.

Severus gave a quick nod of understanding.

"Also, with all the potions in his system and the heavy dreamless sleep-like fumes he inhaled, do not be surprised if he doesn't wake for up to 24 hours, but even then he'll need to remain in bed for a few days until he starts to regain his strength," the Mediwitch explained as Severus gave another succinct nod. He'd be right here the entire time, ensuring that Harry got all the rest he needed.

"I can stay of course, if you have other things that require your attention," she added.

Severus had been staring at Harry's medical chart in her hands, but his eyes quickly sought out those of Madame Pomfrey. "No, that won't be necessary, Poppy. Thank you for responding so quickly," he said sincerely. It was true, the mediwitch could be extremely overbearing, but she had also aided him numerous times throughout his stay at Hogwarts. And who would have ever imagined she was the one that would have retained more composure today?

She gave him a kind smile and patted his arm before gazing down at Harry. "He's a good boy. I'm glad you are finally starting to see it," she said.

Severus allowed himself a small smirk. Usually Poppy remained outside the realm of voicing any favoritism, ever the professional no matter how much she had grown to care for a student. But of course with how often Potter ended up in the infirmary it was no surprise Madame Pomfrey had taken a secret liking to him.

"If you encounter complications of any kind, don't hesitate to call me again, Severus," she said, handing him the chart. "I expect to be notified immediately if his fever spikes or he hasn't awoken in two days," she added in her harsh mediwitch tone.

After hearing his compliance she gave him one last warm smile before showing herself out.

Severus only waited a moment before giving into his urge to draw a chair close to Harry's bedside.

Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on his knees and stared intently at Harry's face. Poppy had renewed the oxygen charm and the chart ordered Severus to continue to do so every hour for the next four. He found himself staring at the rise and fall of the boy's chest and felt immensely relieved to see it occurring so evenly.

The day's events kept replaying in his head and Severus couldn't believe the overwhelming panic he had felt. And although it had diminished there was still a constant worry eating away at his stomach. He wouldn't feel comfortable until he saw Harry's eyes open.

The foreign feelings caused Severus to shift in discomfort. He could no longer deny that he enjoyed the boy's presence in his rigidly controlled life. He just hoped that Albus was right about how Harry felt in return.

"Harry, I'm so sorry," he whispered to the quiet room placing his hand over the boy's blanket-clad one.

-SS-

The first thing Harry noticed when he awoke was that he was in a tremendous amount of pain. His whole body ached and his arms and legs felt like dead weights sinking into the bed. His initial reaction was to think he was at the Dursleys, but then he realized just how soft the bed was. He was definitely covered in blankets as well, but couldn't figure out why he was still so cold. It felt like a thousand needles were pressing into his skin.

He still hadn't cracked his eyes open. Just the thought seemed like far too much effort, so he let his mind try to piece together the last few things he remembered, talking with Ron and Hermione and then brewing. All Harry remembered after that were some extremely strange dreams that he was starting to wonder if it had really been a dream at all.

It was hard to grasp onto what the dreams might have been about, but he remembered feeling extremely content, almost as if he was floating in water, or rather underwater. He concentrated a little harder and then remembered feeling as if he was being held by someone and the voice definitely belonged to Professor Snape. The thought brought a smile to his lips.

At the action Harry noticed his mouth was extremely dry and licked his lips slowly before swallowing in an attempt to alleviate the discomfort. He was caught off guard by the burning sensation that shot down his throat and he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth which instantly caused his chest to convulse.

The coughing was horrendous, but he couldn't stop, making his head throb even harder, as if a hammer was striking the inside of his skull.

He curled up into a ball on his side as tears started to leak out of his still tightly shut eyes. He attempted to suck in some breaths of air through all the coughing, but was sure he was going to choke when strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him up against something into a semi-sitting position.

"Harry," he felt more than heard the rumbling from behind him. "Swallow the potion. It will help."

Almost instantly the glass vial was against his lips and somehow the professor managed to tip it down his throat in between coughs.

Harry had never taken a potion quite like this one and couldn't believe how instantaneous its effects were. It felt like ice running down his throat and Harry thought he had never experienced anything that blissful. Both the fiery burning and the terrible itch making him cough were washed away and replaced with a beautiful numbness.

With that ailment soothed Harry could better realize how much his head hurt and how exhausted he was. He knew he wouldn't be able to even sit up on his own, but did finally manage to crack his eyes open. It was then that he realized he was reclining against Snape's body with the man's one arm still wrapped around him from hoisting him up earlier. Even if he was only being half held, it was extremely comforting.

Snape placed his palm against Harry's forehead and the teen couldn't stop himself from letting out a soft sigh. He imagined the man was only checking for a temperature, but the cool skin felt so soothing against his feverish brow.

The professor's palm quickly left his forehead and returned with another vial of potion. "Harry this is a fever reducer and general pain reliever," Snape said softly.

Harry was extremely grateful for the quiet tone as he didn't think his head would be able to take any loud noises. He stared at the hand hovering in front of his face and finally managed to mumble an inarticulate noise of understanding. He attempted to lift his own arm to grab the vial, but Snape wouldn't allow it. Instead the professor just went ahead and placed the vial against his lips before tipping it back.

"How do you feel?" Snape asked after setting down the empty vial.

Harry had let his eyes fall shut again and his mind had wandered into a drug induced haze, but he smiled softly at the question. Obviously he didn't feel very good, and yet somehow he did. Just being cared for like this made him feel instantly better.

"Aside from the fever reducer to help bring it down slightly, there is little I can do as it runs its course. Also, your throat will take some time to heal, but if the pain returns we can administer another potion for that as well," the professor continued to explain.

Harry tried to pay attention to everything the man said, but he was far more preoccupied with the fact that Snape hadn't let go of his hold on him yet. It was silly, but when he was younger he had always dreamed of having someone to hold him like this when he was sick. Aunt Petunia always fawned over Dudley when he had even the slightest cold and would envelope him in a hug until he fell asleep when he ran a fever, but Harry never received that type of treatment.

He was brought out of his thoughts when Snape started to move him. The loss of contact was disappointing, but he was in no physical condition to try and object, instead he let Snape maneuver him as the man saw fit.

"Harry?" Snape questioned. The teen was almost certain there was a hint of worry in the professor's usually smooth voice and it brought back a strange memory from the dreams Harry had.

He had been lying in the man's arms looking up into the dark eyes. Harry was used to seeing those eyes stone cold or stormy in anger or fury, but he wasn't used to seeing them filled with worry and panic rushing around like a vicious storm.

Harry let go of his grasp on the strange memory as he felt himself being lowered to the pillows and opened his eyes at the feel of Snape stroking some hair off his forehead. Apparently Snape had asked him a question, but Harry had no clue what it was.

"Huh?" he mumbled.

"How are you feeling?" Snape said slowly, piercing Harry with his sharp gaze.

"I'm fine," Harry mouthed, surprised to realize no sound came out. He tried to repeat the words a second time, but he still seemed to have no luck.

In the next minute Snape was helping him sit up again and holding a cool glass of water to his lips. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was until he had started drinking. Snape allowed him to have his fill but controlled the pace, making sure he didn't down the glass too quickly.

"Better?" Snape asked after laying him back down again.

"Better," Harry confirmed in a hoarse whisper. It was an improvement from no sound at all, but still his voice seemed to be extremely impaired.

Harry struggled to keep his eyes open, but was having a hard time.

"It's alright. Go back to sleep," Snape said, his voice lulling Harry into just that, but the man's next words had his eyes popping open in fear. "Would you like me to get your godfather?"

"Are you leaving?" Harry croaked out, quickly reaching out with one hand and latching onto Snape's wrist. His panic over the man leaving overrode any embarrassment at the action. It wasn't until then that he realized the man was still sitting partially on his bed, but even then he refused to let go of Snape's arm.

"I have no intention to," Snape responded.

Harry was so relieved to hear those words. A smile spread across his face as he started to shut his eyes.

"I will call for your godfather, however, if you would like," Snape said.

Harry looked up at the man to see that he was extremely serious in his offer. He hadn't really even thought about wanting Sirius there and he felt guilty for a second, but it couldn't be helped. His first thoughts had gone to Snape and the comfort the man gave him by just sitting by his side.

He was silent for a moment as he gave the idea some real thought. He knew Sirius cared, but he didn't want to worry his godfather when the man obviously had so many other things weighing on his mind. More importantly, he didn't want to scare Snape away. He needed Snape.

"No," he finally mouthed.

"Are you certain, Harry?" Snape asked immediately.

Harry nodded his head before nervously whispering, "You promise you won't leave?" He knew he probably sounded extremely childish, but he didn't care.

"I am not going anywhere," Snape answered immediately, his features much softer than normal.

Harry had just started to relax as he felt the professor slipping his arm out of his grasp. He knew the physical contact wouldn't last. No one really wanted to take care of him when he was sick and even if Snape felt obligated to, he wouldn't want to hold his hand or something else ridiculous like that. Even so, it had been extremely nice while it lasted and Harry was shocked by the ache in his chest at the loss of that contact.

He squeezed his eyes shut tightly and thus was extremely surprised to feel Snape's large hand gather up his own. In another instant he felt a cool flannel being laid across his forehead. The whole experience was overwhelming and his emotions felt so on edge. A tear leaked out of his eye not because he was upset, but because he never thought he would ever experience someone caring for him in this manner.

"Are you in pain? Where does it hurt?" Snape asked sharply as the grip on Harry's hand tightened.

The alarm in the man's voice caused Harry's eyes to snap open and he quickly shook his head in the negative even as he squeezed the professor's hand in return.

Harry didn't know if Snape even realized he was doing it, but he could feel the man's thumb softly running over the back of his hand. The gesture seemed - dare he even think it? – so loving.

He curled onto his side facing the professor and kept a strong hold on the man's hand as he fell back to sleep.

-SS-

Severus thought the majority of the panic was over and that he would be immensely relieved when he first saw Harry wake up. He had not prepared himself at all for the tossing and turning and moaning of pain the child would display before he ever even opened his eyes. Severus had been on the edge of calling Poppy too many times to count.

Then as if those hours hadn't been torture enough, Harry finally awoke with a spectacular coughing fit, in which it sounded as though the boy were going to lose a lung. A few potions seemed to relieve most of his ailments, but then again, Severus had learned a lot about Harry over the past summer, and the boy had a strong pain tolerance. Perhaps it wasn't that his tolerance was high, but rather, he was extremely good at hiding his pain from others. This thought worried Severus and he had been studying the boy's features for any hint of hidden pain.

When he had first laid Harry back down, the child seemed content for the moment. His face was soft and his brow would only furrow slightly when Severus had asked him questions. Obviously between the fever and potions it was hard for him to concentrate.

Panic seemed to flare in the child when the boy thought he might leave, but physical pain didn't appear to be evident. He was almost convinced he had temporarily eased both the boy's anxiety and pain when Harry squeezed his eyes shut and a small tear escaped.

When Harry curled in to face the chair Severus had drew close and tightened his grip on Severus' hand as if his life depended on it, the potion master finally realized the boy just desperately needed some physical contact. With Harry this sick, Severus didn't have the heart not to oblige, and truthfully, he needed the contact just as much as Harry did.

-SS-

When Harry next awoke he wasn't in as much pain as before, but he still felt awful and now he was hot and sweaty. His body certainly wasn't as exhausted, not that he was planning on getting out of bed anytime in the next year, but his mind was a little clearer. Bits and pieces of the strange dreams came back to him much clearer and he was now certain that the memory of lying in Snape's arms was very real.

On second thought, Harry realized he needed to get out of bed immediately. He needed to use the loo and he needed to use it now. It probably hadn't been a good idea to drink that entire glass of water before.

He had no idea how long he had been asleep, but when he opened his eyes he found himself and Snape to be in the same positions he remembered when he last closed them. The blurry professor was sitting in a chair only inches from his bed and was engrossed in a book resting on his lap. His left hand still engulfed Harry's and the grip hadn't seemed to lessen even if Harry's had become more slack in sleep.

Harry momentarily forgot about his little problem and simply smiled, staring at the professor's larger hand over his own. Was this what it felt like to have a parent who cared about you? He knew Mrs. Weasley and even Mr. Weasley would do this for any one of their kids if they were ill and although he had little interaction with any other families, he was quite certain Hermione's parents would do the same.

That strange ache in his chest returned as Harry finally realized everything he had truly been missing out on his entire life. It had been one thing to just imagine what it would be like to have his own parents, just someone to call his own, who cared about him and loved him without reservations. But now that Harry was experiencing it, he didn't know if he could ever deal with the loss of it. Never having something was definitely easier to cope with than having something ripped away from you.

He snapped out of his thoughts as he realized he really had to go. He tugged gently on Snape's hand and the professor snapped his head up so quickly Harry would have laughed if he wasn't so worried about controlling his bladder.

Harry could feel the dark eyes searching his face to figure out if something was wrong.

"I need to," Harry started to explain, before realizing his voice, once again, was not working. He paused and tried to clear his throat a little before continuing. "I need to use the loo," he rasped out, trying to slowly pull himself up into more of a sitting position. The movement made him realize he was more than just a little sweaty, he was drenched. The pain in his throat was also returning and he would ask Snape for another potion if it had been long enough between doses, but the immediate issue was getting to the loo.

Snape was out of his seat in a second and helping Harry to sit up. He was grateful the man just knew he would need some aid in walking across the room, rather than embarrassing him by asking the question specifically. It wasn't that Harry was completely incapable of standing or walking on his own, but after being in bed for who knows how long, his body didn't want to comply with his wishes at the moment.

The floor was cold when Harry's feet finally came into contact with it and he leaned heavily against Snape when he first stood and the two began their trek across the room. By the time he neared the bathroom he was walking almost completely on his own, but Snape kept a guiding hand on his elbow.

Harry mumbled a "thanks" before entering the bathroom. After taking care of his bodily needs and washing his hands, he gazed in the mirror for a minute to stare at his reflection. He looked as tired as he felt, with his eyes sunk in and his skin a sickly hue. He leaned heavily against the sink and took a moment to splash some water on his face. He felt grimy and dirty, but he certainly wasn't up for a shower yet, so lightly washing his face would have to do. He really wanted to change into a clean pair of pajamas though.

When he opened the door of the bathroom he found Snape waiting with a pile of folded clothes. Without his glasses it took Harry a moment to realize they were exactly what he had been hoping for.

"A freshening charm will only go so far, but I assure you, it will feel better," Snape said, with his wand in hand.

Harry gave him a quick nod and almost instantly felt the coolness wash over him. Snape was right, it would never be a substitute for a thorough shower, but once he changed into a clean set of pajamas he would feel tremendously better.

The professor handed over the set and Harry once again retreated into the bathroom.

When he emerged the second time he could see Snape changing his bedding with quick flicks of his wand. It was amazing how the man thought of every little detail to make Harry as comfortable as possible.

He padded quietly across the room and it wasn't until he rounded the foot of the bed that Snape noticed him. He pushed the covers back and nodded for Harry to get back into bed.

"Do not lie down yet. There are a few potions you need to take," Snape instructed.

Harry sank onto the bed and pulled his feet up under the blankets, but did as instructed and remained upright. The fresh sheets felt so good against his feet and hands, Harry closed his eyes for a moment just enjoying it. He didn't really feel as though he could go back to sleep, yet his head was tired and his eyes felt better being closed.

He was startled when Snape placed a cool hand against his forehead and whispered a short Latin incantation.

Harry opened his eyes to see red numbers floating in the air next to Snape's wand and they were slowly climbing. With a beep the numbers came to a stop at thirty-eight.

The potion master withdrew his hand and plucked a vial off the bedside table to hold out to Harry.

"This is a fever reducer," he said, inclining his head toward the potion as Harry took it and swallowed it. "How does your throat feel?" he asked as he took back the empty vial.

Harry shrugged his shoulders in the usual way he responded to any question about an ailment, but seeing Snape's mouth thin into a tight line and his glare harden had him answering more honestly.

"It hurts when I swallow," he managed to rasp out in a half whisper. He wondered when his voice would return and as if in answer to that silent question, Snape spoke up again as he held out another potion.

"It may be a week or more before your throat has healed."

Harry drank the potion and reveled in the feeling of the cool liquid sinking down his throat, bringing that beautiful numbness back. He handed the empty vial back to Snape and after getting a nod from the man he slowly eased down into the comfort of the fresh bed linens.

He was wondering what exactly happened for him to find himself this ill, but was almost afraid to ask, knowing it had something to do with the potion lab. But once again, as if knowing what was on Harry's mind, Snape started explaining.

"While attempting to brew a standard Dreamless Sleep, you mistakenly used-"

"Sir, let me explain," Harry croaked out quickly. He needed the professor to know his motive and that he wasn't purposely being disobedient. "I didn't-"

"Shh!" Snape hissed sharply, silencing Harry quickly as though he didn't want to hear any excuses.

Harry couldn't stop his face from falling at the idea that the man was still angry from before and this just made things worse instead of better.

-SS-

"You should be speaking as little as possible and now is not the time for your explanations," Severus ordered. He wanted to explain before the boy had a chance to continue blaming himself.

"As I was saying, you mistakenly used powdered root of phytolacca instead of powdered root of asphodel." Harry's face crumbled at this announcement and so Severus quickly pushed on. "The former is a very poisonous plant used in a few antidotes and anti-venoms I brew. I had just purchased a large replenishment for my stores and had yet to find the time to put it away properly." Severus struggled with admitting it was entirely his fault yet still making it clear that Harry was in no way responsible.

"I shouldn't have been in the lab," the boy whispered, "but I wanted to help."

"Correct Mr. Potter, you should not have been in the lab without my express permission," Severus agreed solemnly. The boy did need to learn that rules were meant to be followed. "We will deal with your disobedience when you are feeling better. For now it must be pointed out that the case of the mistaken ingredient does not rest solely on your shoulders."

He gave Harry a hard look waiting for the boy's compliance, but it never came.

"But I-"

"Harry," Severus interrupted in warning. "You should not have been in the lab, however, even trained potion masters have a difficult time discerning the difference between the powdered versions of phytolacca and asphodel. There is no way you, as a soon to be fifth year at Hogwarts, could have known the difference." He certainly didn't want Harry to stop taking responsibility for his actions, but the child had a huge problem with heaping blame upon his shoulders unnecessarily and Severus wanted to break him of that habit those stupid muggles ingrained in him.

Harry slowly gave a nod of understanding and thankfully didn't argue the point further.

"The alteration to the potion caused an extremely noxious gas that would have begun so gradually that you would not have noticed until it was too late. Breathing in the fumes caused you to pass out and the poisonous quality of the plant caused some serious damage to your respiratory tract, thus the coughing, loss of voice, and pain in your throat. Although it will take some time, the damage is reversible. The fever should diminish even quicker, as you have probably already noticed it lessening."

Harry gave another tired nod.

"However, you will remain in bed until I deem you healthy enough to leave," Severus said sharply. Surprisingly, Harry didn't look upset at the prospect of that. Severus had expected arguments to ensue in which Harry stated he was well enough to go fly his broom tomorrow or some other ridiculous idea.

"Do you think you could stomach some soup?" Severus asked, but he barely got the question out before Harry shook his head no. "Very well, sleep some more and I will expect you to eat something small this evening."

Severus had just settled himself back in his chair and grabbed his book that he would probably just pretend to read when Harry spoke up.

"Sir," he whispered. Once he saw that he had Severus' attention, he continued. "Are you still mad at me?"

Severus wasn't sure if the boy was more embarrassed or just plain sad. He knew Harry was not speaking about the potion accident, but rather the events of the day before. How could he possibly answer this without revealing much more than he was ready to?

"I was never mad at you," he settled on answering, but apparently the words were wrong because it only seemed to make the child's face fall more, something Severus decided he hated seeing.

The boy's eyes darted away and Severus hastily spoke up to draw them back. "Harry," he said, trying to explain further, but unsure of where to go.

"Hermione said you might have too much to do and I was trying to help. That's why I was brewing. I just want things to be like they were, but if you don't tell me what I did wrong I can't fix it," Harry whispered thickly.

The desperation in Harry's voice made Severus' chest constrict in pain and before he realized it, he had leaned forward and gently grabbed on to Harry's forearm. "Miss Granger is partly correct. Other tasks were weighing heavily on me and I unfairly took that frustration out on you," he said.

It was obvious the answer wasn't completely satisfying to Harry so Severus continued. "It will not happen again. You did nothing wrong and thus there is nothing to fix. I am right here and have no intention of going anywhere." That finally appeared to appease the child and Severus gave Harry's arm a light squeeze eliciting a glorious smile. Severus could feel his own lips twitching to return the gesture even if only on the most miniscule of levels and allowed himself to do so for a brief moment.

"Now rest," he commanded and eventually Harry did just that.

-SS-

TBC…

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Again, my sincerest apologies for taking sooooooo long. -Mara