Author's Note: Once again, I've quoted from J. R. R. Tolkien, The Hobbit (Del Rey, 2012), pp. 138 – 139. The muse assumes Severus Snape via JKR read this epic adventure numerous times. Read on!

Chapter 38

Severus woke from his doze and pulled a timepiece from his pocket. It was a gold-plated antique and the only fine thing his father had ever given him – a Snape family heirloom – something Tobias had not drunk away. It read 6:12 pm. The young wizard's mouth and jaw were feeling much less tender, but his neck still had a crick that had not straightened itself out. 'Charity did say she'd work on it later,' he mused. That thought brought an involuntary smirk to his lips.

He headed to the bathroom to freshen up before dinner. Splashing some water on his face, and rinsing out his mouth, the young wizard took a good look at himself. He looked a mess, if he were honest. The tie in his long hair was coming loose making his already narrow face even longer. He pulled it out and ran his long fingers through his locks, redoing a low ponytail. His hair had been a lot less greasy since he'd not been brewing much over the summer. He also was a lot less congested. Maybe brewing was worse for his health than he had dared consider. But what would he do without brewing? Perish the thought!

The young wizard headed to the kitchen, following the quiet din of voices.

"Severus, you're up," Charity greeted him warmly.

"It would seem," he clipped.

"How are you feeling, sir?"

Severus ignored the question and eyed the Salisbury steak dinner on his houseguest's plates. His stomach growled at the sight propelling him to take his seat at the table, though there was no place setting for him.

"Sir?" the boy asked again.

"Oh…I'm fine. My mouth is just a little tender. It's my neck that's still very stiff."

The Potions professor shot a quick look at Charity who was taking a bowl off a shelf. She cocked her head in understanding, halting her hand at his confession – she had promised. Returning to the table, Charity laid a bowl and spoon down in front of Severus along with more of her foul witch's brew. Severus furrowed his brow in confusion.

"I thought we were having steak."

Harry giggled, clearly knowing something his Dark Man didn't.

"I asked Mims to make you something that would be easy to chew."

"But I want steak," the young wizard replied petulantly.

"I'm sorry, Severus, but only Harry and I will be having meat this evening. Maybe tomorrow…depending on how you're healing. How does that sound?"

"Very reasonable and very disappointing," he grumbled.

"I've been told that life is full of disappointments," the child returned unhelpfully.

The Dark Man sneered. They were enjoying starving him! Blast that damned house elf!

"So…what did Mims make me?"

"Leek and potato soup. It's very good."

"Yes…I'm sure it is…assuming she didn't try to poison me."

"Why would anyone poison you?" Harry asked with alarm.

"Harry, Professor Snape is joking! He and Mims are not the best of friends."

"She's a wretched, opinionated, nosy…"

Charity put up her hand to stop him.

"She was very gracious to cook for you after you said she couldn't be here. So, I do not want to hear about who did or said what to whom. I had a few spoons of her soup and it's delicious! Eat it!"

The Potions Master snarled at the witch before him and quietly ate his soup. To his surprise, he enjoyed it. It was very easy on his tender gums, even if they were now healing quickly. As they ate Harry and Charity talked about what the young witch's Muggle Studies course would entail. Harry thought it would be an easy credit, to which Charity replied that that wasn't the point. The young wizard finished the last of his soup, and without missing a beat Charity picked up her wand and refilled his bowl. Severus continued eating gladly. It wasn't steak, but it was tasty.

Soon Harry finished his dinner and headed off to the sitting room to read. Charity was doing the washing up but was taking her time waiting for Severus to drink her concoction, so she could wash the cup. She knew it tasted awful, but it had worked! Severus' pain and swelling were much improved, not to mention the wort she'd added had really calmed his readily agitated mood. She would not tell him that though.

Severus stood and brought the drink to the sink. It wasn't as warm as the batch from earlier in the day, but whether warm or cold, it still tasted like shite. Charity thought he might dump it but held her breath as he pinched his nose and gulped it down in one shot. Once again, he almost wretched. The young witch sprang into action and took the cup from Severus' hand. Like Harry, she instinctively rubbed his back, but he pulled away from her touch.

"I'm fine, Charity." Charity quickly drew her hand back. Maybe she had misunderstood his earlier implication.

"Sorry," he continued. "The same thing happened earlier. The nausea passed quickly enough. What did you put in there, by the way?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she smirked.

"Well…yes…I would. It works," he prodded.

"Oh…a little of this, a little of that," she persisted noncommittally.

"What would it take for you to tell me?" he asked, leaning in toward her.

"Nothing," she rejoined, covering her heart with her hand. "I'll never tell!"

"We'll see about that," he answered, squaring off.

"You, of course, can try," she continued, placing her hands on her hips, "but I, of course, may withdraw my offer to work that crick out of your neck."

The young wizard evaluated her dare, narrowing his eyes and pursing his lips. Ha! She hadn't misunderstood.

"We wouldn't want that, now, would we?" he conceded, backing off.

"Certainly not!" she replied as the teakettle whistled. Damn that kettle! Charity turned back toward the stove and flipped off the burner.

She placed her hands on the handle. They had to go somewhere, somewhere that was not her professor. Not yet anyway. Severus coughed uncomfortably and moved back toward the table.

"Would you like tea?" she asked, not turning around, afraid of what she'd see.

"Sure…yes...of course," he halted, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Charity then turned toward him slightly and smiled.

"I'll bring you a cup. Why don't you spend some time with Harry?"

Severus blinked and nodded his agreement.

The young witch let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding as she watched him leave. Clearly a strong brew was in order.

For his part, the young wizard felt self-possessed and very confused simultaneously. He almost stumbled into the sitting room pondering what he was doing practically against his will – flirting! Flirting? He didn't flirt! Severus involuntarily rubbed his jaw.

"Does your mouth still hurt, Professor?" The Potions Master stopped his hand.

"The pain has diminished quite a bit, thank you." Harry smiled, his large green eyes flashing behind his new horn-rimmed glasses.

There was no doubt that the glasses made the child resemble James, but his eyes were so much like Lily's; they unnerved Severus every time Harry looked at him. He'd left the child wailing in his crib while he cradled Lily's lifeless body in his arms. Then he ran away, like a coward, while Dumbledore took the child to Surrey and laid him on Petunia Dursley's doorstep. How would he ever explain any of this to the boy? He'd hoped and even expected that he would never have to. But that option was becoming less and less likely with each day that passed. It was better to just get it over with and deal with the consequences.

"Mr. Potter," he began, clearing his throat. "I feel the need to apologize to you."

"Why, sir?" Harry said, looking up from his book.

Severus moved toward the settee and Harry pulled his feet back, allowing his Dark Man to sit down. He looked sad, so the child stretched his legs back out, barely touching his Dark Man's legs. The Potions professor didn't stop him.

"I need to apologize because…because…well…there's no easy way to say this…because I knew you were being taken to the Dursley's."

"Well other people knew too," the child shrugged nonchalantly.

"Yes, but I also knew what your aunt was like, and I didn't tell anyone. I didn't even try to stop Headmaster Dumbledore when he decided to take you there. Petunia was always jealous of your mother from the time we were children. I should have anticipated that she would not have changed."

"But how could you have known that?" the child asked, reassuring his Dark Man.

"Well…I knew that she did not attend your parents wedding and that she resented magic."

"She always hated my magic," Harry bemoaned quietly. "So, why didn't you tell anyone or try to stop the Headmaster?" he continued, shifting his position and pulling his feet back just slightly.

"Why didn't I do the right thing? Truthfully, I was young and angry…I was also stupid and scared."

"Is this what Miss was talking about a few days ago? That you did dumb things when you were younger…like my dad?"

Severus nodded slowly.

"This was only one of the many foolish things I did when I was just a few years older than you are right now."

"Why were you angry and scared?"

Severus pursed his lips, not wanting to give too much away, but wanting the child to understand.

"I was angry because I'd had a difficult childhood," he began and then stalled, "but also, at the time, mostly because your mother married your father."

"Why would that make you…ohhh," Harry replied in retreat, realizing his error.

Severus eyed the boy, silently requesting that he not rub it in.

"And I was scared because in my last year of school, I had fallen in with dangerous people and did not know how to get out."

"Like the mafia!" Harry added with apparent understanding.

Severus furrowed his brow in confusion.

"You know…The Godfather!" the child continued.

"The God…Father…" the young wizard copied, shaking his head in puzzlement.

"It's a movie about falling in with mob," Harry added, as if that clarified things.

"Hmmm…I'll have to watch that film," the young wizard added, making a mental note to ask Charity about it later.

"Oh…may I watch too?" the boy asked.

"If Ms. Burbage says it's ok…maybe," Severus replied without commitment. Harry seemed satisfied with that answer.

"So, you recall," the Potions Master continued, "the dark wizard we were talking about earlier?"

The child nodded.

"I was a member of his…organization."

Immediately Harry drew back even further, though this time defiant and obviously perturbed. His tongue lashed out in a flash of irritation.

"Well…at least I know one thing…"

"And what is that?" Severus replied, trying his best to remain calm.

"I know you didn't kill my parents," he cut "or Headmaster Dumbledore wouldn't have left me with you."

The boy's impudence soured the Potions Master's good will.

"That is very true," he replied coolly.

"Did you know about the attack?" the child asked brusquely.

"Yes."

"Then why didn't you stop it?" Harry moaned, screwing up his small face.

Severus scoffed. "I tried, Mr. Potter. When I realized the danger your mother was in, I did everything I could to stop what had already been set in motion. But, I was unsuccessful."

"Just my mother?"

"No…you and your father, as well" Severus took a deep breath. It wasn't wholly untrue.

Harry's ire relented – but melancholy descended instead.

"But you were unsuccessful…" the child's voice trailed off.

"I was unsuccessful. But where I failed, you succeeded."

Harry shook his head deliberately at the Potions Master's affirmation. He didn't really believe that.

"I don't think it had much to do with me," the boy confessed.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," the child continued carefully, "it seems like I killed the bloke by accident. I didn't really do anything in particular. It's so strange to know that people admire me for – being lucky!"

Severus nodded his understanding at the child's concern. In his wildest dreams, he never expected the boy who lived to be humble, realistic, and observant. He expected a spoiled brat! Not a damaged yet still kind child. However, here he was, sitting in Severus' living room, evaluating whether to trust his Dark Man.

"I don't think most witches and wizards think you were lucky, Mr. Potter."

"But it's true!" The young wizard shook his head in disagreement.

"Luck may have had something to do with it, but luck is too easy an answer. Yes, your mother sacrificed herself for you and created the parameters for your victory, but I believe, after getting to know you, that you defeated that dark wizard by the strength of your magic."

"I don't feel very strong."

"Most people don't, Potter, that doesn't mean they aren't."

"Bilbo didn't think he was strong." Severus started at the sudden change in conversation. The boy did that a lot, especially when he wanted to stop a conversation in its tracks. Severus decided to allow the detour.

"No…I suppose he didn't. How far along are you in The Hobbit?"

"Bilbo and the dwarves have to go through the Mirkwood forest to get to the Lonely Mountain."

"Hmmm…I don't recall what happens next. Would you mind reading to me before bed?"

The child's eyes shot open with surprise and joy. An adult was asking him to read to them. He grinned his agreement and opened the book in his hand.

Before he could begin, however, Charity ambled in, levitating a tea tray with her wand and carrying bedding for the settee. She set the tray down on the coffee table and placed the sheets on Severus' desk. She'd taken the time to change into more casual clothes while Severus had been chatting with Harry. Her hair was up in a loose ponytail, tendrils falling out here and there. She'd never looked lovelier all scrubbed and ready for bed, though she didn't seem to notice her professor gaping. The young witch picked up a steaming mug and handed it to Harry handle-first. The child smelled the hot drink and smiled. He clearly liked it. She then handed Severus the second mug.

"I thought you were going to make tea," he said absently, also snuffling the drink.

"We always have tea. This is a treat. And it'll probably give you a little nutrition since all you had to eat for supper was soup."

"What is it?" the boy asked, wanting to make sure.

"Horlicks!" both Severus and Charity said simultaneously, as she took a seat in Severus' recliner.

"Harry," the young witch continued, "you've never had Horlicks?"

"Aunt Petunia only gave it to Dudley. I know the smell, but I've never had it."

The Potions professor instinctively snarled at the child's mention of his miserly aunt.

"Well…go on then, try it," Charity encouraged.

Harry smelled the drink again and took a sip. He grinned! Charity smiled kindly in return. She and Severus then took a sip. Severus swallowed and noted how smoothly the drink went down. The witch had added whiskey.

"This is good, Charity."

"Isn't it?" she added coyly, flashing her eyebrows.

"How's yours Harry?"

"Delicious!" he declared.

"So, what were you two up to?"

"Mr. Potter was going to read to me from The Hobbit."

"Oh…that sounds like fun! Are you up for that, luv? Or would you like me to read?"

Harry put his already half-drunk drink down on the coffee table and picked up his book. He then shimmied down a little further so that his feet were once again touching his Dark Man. Severus didn't hesitate; after his bout of honesty, he wanted to assure the child that things had not changed between them. He shifted his position just enough that Harry had to lift his feet and place them back on his professor's lap. He then laid the blanket from the back of the settee over the child's legs and socked feet. Once the boy was nicely tucked in, Harry found his place and began.

"Good bye then, and really good-bye!" said Gandalf, and he turned his horse and rode down into the West. But he could not resist the temptation to have the last word. Before he had passed quite out of hearing he turned and put his hands to his mouth and called to them. They heard his voice come faintly: "Good-bye! Be good, take care of yourselves – and DON'T LEAVE THE PATH!" Then he galloped away and soon was lost to sight. "Oh good-bye and go away!" grunted the dwarves, all the more angry because they were really filled with dismay at losing him. Now began the most dangerous part of the journey. They each shouldered the heavy pack and the water-skin which was their share, and turned from the light that lay on the lands outside and plunged into the forest. They walked in single file. The entrance to the path was like a sort of arch leading into a gloomy tunnel made by two great trees that leant together, too old and strangled with ivy and hung with lichen…"

"L-eye-ken," Severus corrected.

"…lichen…to bear more than a few blackened leaves…"

Charity tucked her feet under herself in the recliner and leaned back, while Severus closed his eyes and listened closely to the child's voice. The boy continued to stumble here and there, but Severus was sure he'd never heard a more pleasant sound.