Bring Me To Life : A Continuation
by I Got Tired of Waiting

Part I : The Past to the Present
Intermission Two : Where Doth the Power Lie?

Sirius' head wavered in the fireplace of his office. "Severus, I don't know what happened. One minute we were placing the Wards, the next he collapsed. It's a bloody mess. The town elders are barely keeping it together and, Merlin knows, I don't have the wherewithal to hold it in place--" he stopped, flummoxed by Severus' closed-eye concentration; he'd expected thundering anger, but this weary silence was almost frightening.

When Severus still made no comment, Sirius doggedly continued, "Either you need to get Harry back here as soon as possible or else we need a whole squadron of Aurors here to keep things in balance. There's a Muggle Army bivouacked on the outskirts of town and another ready to engage it further down the road. We're desperate here, caught in the middle."

Severus opened his eyes, finally saying, "Sirius, I'll send our Aurors to escort Caballa and Abel, our most experienced Ward-Setters; they just came in a week ago. Caballa was ill, but if her grousing is any indication, I think she'll be ready to resume her duties tomorrow." He closed his eyes again, fingers massaging the bridge of his nose.

Taking a deep breath as if to steady himself, he added, "Until I can get down to the infirmary to see what Harry's condition is, I can make no assessment of what else can be done." He sighed deeply, his impatience to be off almost a physical thing. "So for right now, I would strongly suggest you prepare for the worst and hope for the best, my friend."

Exhaustion etching his face, Sirius replied, "All right, Severus. Please, just take care of Harry. He should never have come here; it's not on the schedule until next month, but... Well, you know how pig-headed he can be. He knew the grave situation here. How many lives..." He hesitated as if waiting for a rebuke that never came. "Right now he's more important than anything else, not only from a strategic perspective, but... Oh hell, Severus, we can't lose him. Just go to him. He needs... He's been away for far too long."

Severus couldn't even draw up the energy to point out the obvious to Sirius and for once he left him merely with a mild admonishment to take good care of Caballa and Abel and better care of himself. With a tired nod and a surprised gawp, for he'd still expected the usual berating he took when Harry over-extended himself, Sirius disappeared from the flames wondering if Severus would heed his own advice.

Without turning, Severus called, "Lenore!"

Her age belied by a deceptively young face, Lenore stepped immediately through the open door to stand beside him. "Yes, Severus?"

"I assume you heard the conversation?"

"Of course, why else would you hire me?"

Severus chuckled wearily. "Then, I shouldn't have to tell you to--"

"--Already done, sir. I notified Seth to release them on the morrow."

Severus threw her a sharp grateful look. "That's why I hired you," he said, his eyes dancing. "Now away with you, cheeky girl."

She lifted an eyebrow and grinned irreverently as she smartly left the room.

In her wake, Severus had the fleeting, irrelevant thought he always did, wondering when Seth was going to wake up and finally see her. And as always, he made a mental note to do something about it, a note just as quickly forgot as he was swallowed for a few heartbeats by the panic he'd experienced when he'd felt Harry's return by direct Portal to the infirmary.

Before Sirius had interrupted his flight to the infirmary, Seth had occupied the fireplace, reporting that, in his professional opinion, Harry was 'barely there'. Severus hadn't needed Seth to tell him this; the pain, now dampened, and the weakness he'd felt when Harry arrived still burned behind his eyes and coursed through his veins.

Freed for the moment from his duties and confident he'd done all he could, he tore from the rooms at a dead run, ignoring the paleness flooding his body.

Lenore quietly closed the door behind her father. She'd wait till after they'd had a chance to be together.

Harry lay on one side of the double bed in the private room at the back of the infirmary, fighting the deep lethargy invading him as he faded in and out of consciousness. He was holding it together only as long as it took Severus to get here. He wanted to see Severus, needed to see him, to feel him. He felt so thin.

While Seth gently poked and prodded his unresisting body, he waited impatiently, suffering the renewed agony at each touch in silence. He ignored the muttered commentary Seth was giving to his assistant. He was so tired; each laboured breath sent fresh waves of pain coursing through his emaciated body. His bones ached, everything ached, and he made a Herculean effort to keep Severus from knowing the full extent of his debilitation.

He could 'see' Severus at the fireplace, no doubt talking to Sirius. Dear Sirius, he tried, but I can be such a stubborn git. I hope Severus isn't giving him a hard time, he thought, remembering the last time Severus had given Sirius a harsh tongue-lashing for not taking better care of him. 'Thrice-Damned-Mangy-Mutt' had been the nicest thing he'd said.

Seth left the room, leaving the door open. He was finally alone.

The vision firm in his head, Harry could 'see' Severus talking to Lenore, saucy girl. Then he was running down the halls, his cloak flying open in his haste. Checking his run to a more sedate pace, he staggered at the doors to the infirmary and leant against the frame to gather his strength before...

Slowly, ever so slowly, the door to the infirmary opened, and Oh, thank the gods, there he is.

Masterfully gliding down the length of the infirmary, cloak billowing behind him, heels clicking on the floor... all mutely demonstrated the strength of his stride as he rapidly approached the room Harry occupied. Harry sighed longingly at the welcome sight through the open door, sincerely wishing he had the energy to do something about the sweet tightening in his loins at this picture of Severus swooping down the hall, each step heralding an impatience Harry knew was only for him.

So graceful, so magnificent, so stirring... so goddamn tired, he thought as reality failed him with the image of his Severus burned firmly in his memory.

Severus checked his head-long rush down the corridor at the door to the infirmary. Taking a deep breath to compose himself, he sternly controlled the inner weakness and muted pain he'd been experiencing with every step closer to Harry. He opened the door quietly and stepped into the large room, taking in his surroundings. All was quiet.

As he neared the room, he could feel the longing coming from beyond the open door. He almost faltered when he saw the predatory, possessive gleam of Harry's restless green eyes.

Appreciating him. Wanting him.

He'd never felt more real than in that moment, conscious of his stride, aware of the desire he could feel emanating from the admiring eyes of his lover. Drawing closer, he could see the yearning tempered with regret. With the deep sigh of Harry's contentment whispering in his head, he saw those eyes close in gratitude, the body going limp.

All pretence of dignity gone, and fighting the threatening bond-sickness he could feel within himself, Severus staggered the last few yards to the bed. His legs buckled and he fell down to his knees at its side, the pain of the impact overshadowed by the waves of throbbing agony, finally felt in full as he took Harry's hand.

He studied Harry for a long moment noting the pale, lined face, the prematurely silver hair tangled and more unmanageable than ever. He ran his hands over the gaunt body, the bones protruding from skin so translucent he could almost see the blood flowing through the veins beneath. Dark circles ringed the closed eyes, lashes dark against his pallid skin stretched tightly over the fine bones. He looked desiccated, like all the life had been sucked out of him.

As a leader in the war against the Muggles, he was appalled at Harry's condition, knowing he would be of no use for quite a while, maybe months. This was quite a set-back. And he was mortified at his detached assessment of how long it would take him to get Harry back out there, for he knew he would do whatever it took to do so.

As his husband, he was sickened. An angry noise growled from his throat as he realised the deprivation and abuse his mate had taken in order to aid the half-wits who couldn't set nor maintain their own Wards.

Damn it, Harry, how many times have I told you: you cannot save them all. Risking yourself like this is futile.

This wasn't the first time Harry had returned as little more than a dry shell, but this was by far the worst he'd ever been. Severus felt guilty he'd not paid better attention and knew he couldn't fault Harry if he doubted Severus' motives.

Hesitantly, uncertain of his right to do so, he stretched out his hand and gently, ever so gently, pushed the mop of hair off Harry's face, exposing the swollen and angry scar. That alone told him how serious it was and, with a muted cry, he buried his face atop the bed, suffering silently the searing shame of his abuse. Of its own accord, his hand rose and rested on Harry's chest and he took some small comfort in the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the calm beating of his heart.

Through much of the night he knelt beside the bed with numb knees, one hand entwined with Harry's while the other touched him, ran through his hair, caressed his face, searching for some sign, any sign that Harry would be all right and that he was still loved... and forgiven.

At odd intervals, Seth would poke his head into the room and sigh in quiet exasperation every time he saw Severus still kneeling by the bed.

Damn it man; just accept that he waited for you, that he wants to be with you, that he sees nothing to forgive. Stop punishing yourself. He's here. He always comes back; he loves you.

Seth understood Severus' need for forgiveness, though, and knew they'd both suffered from the separation. And each time he quietly withdrew, he hoped the next time would be better.

A few hours before dawn, Severus could take it no more. Rising in great pain, he hobbled over and closed the door to the private room. Slowly removing his outer garments and boots, each movement reflecting the distress still coursing through Harry, he climbed into the bed and took Harry gently into his arms, positioning the other man so he was in his favourite position as Severus' blanket.

With one arm around the familiar, yet thinner waist, he held Harry tight, revelling in the feel of his skin against his own. Tracing small circles on his back with the tips of his fingers, he relished the silky skin beneath them. Ah, much better, he thought as the weariness seeped into every bone. Sighing dreamily, Harry burrowed even deeper into the embrace. Lulled by their hearts beating in tandem, Severus soon fell into a dreamless sleep.

Seth, came into the room a few minutes later and smiled with deep satisfaction, his clear grey eyes softening at the sight of the two of them holding each other. Finally, he thought, his long-standing worry over his godfathers alleviated. They both need this. Severus looks much better as well, not so 'stretched' as before.

Seth might know little about relationships; however, having had an abundance of it his whole life, he knew love when he saw it. When he was a child, his own parents had been discreet in their loving but open with their affections; he'd never felt not loved. And one thing he knew from his years with Severus and Harry was that they loved.

His only regretted he'd not found someone for himself yet, although recently Lenore had been much in his thoughts and heart. He'd had lovers, but they paled when compared to the examples set by his parents and these two. He was waiting for what he saw between Severus and Harry, what he'd seen in his own parents: a deep abiding love that celebrated life, took the good where found, yet withstood all hardship. He knew it existed, he just had to be patient.

He drew the blanket over them, much like a parent tucking his children into bed. This will do them both a world of good, he thought.

As he was about to leave the room, Lenore stole up beside him, gazing fondly at her fathers.

Sighing with pleasure to see them together, she wondered how long it had taken Severus to fight his demons before forgiving himself enough to let him be with Harry. While Severus looked more tranquil than she'd seen him in weeks, the remaining harshness lining his face told another story. A long time then, she thought with clear insight, and he still hasn't forgiven himself.

She let her eyes wander over the sleeping pair, quieting everything within her lest she wake them. Still too pale, Harry's peaceful face spoke of contentment; his inner strength and her comfort had always been in his silences more than his words, his serenity and easy laughter a soothing balm to her restless spirit. Severus looked so stern, even in sleep, yet that hard exterior had always sheltered her inside, keeping her safe and warm even in her darkest nights when the shadows of childhood stalked her dreams.

She hardly remembered her life before them. So much they'd given her as a child--security, comfort, and love--these things she'd had in abundance from these men, her heart-fathers. As a child she never questioned its source; as an adult she knew it had come as an outpouring of the very same things they gave to each other. Such a strong thing, the communion they shared. And just as a child's needs are different than a woman's, she yearned to find for herself the same joy they had for each other.

Lenore couldn't say when she'd fallen in love with Seth, but it felt like forever. He was so much older and she wondered if he would ever see her as more than the child of his parent's friends, a child whose small hurts he'd mended with quiet affection. And yet... Yet there was that something about him recently she couldn't quite place, the way his eyes followed her, the stammering awkwardness he never exhibited with anyone else, the slight flush colouring his cheeks whenever she caught his eye which gave her hope that he might just think her more than an irritating child.

She leant over to give Severus and Harry a light kiss on the cheek before turning back to Seth. She smiled; perhaps Seth needed one as well.

There was something about her slender form that moved him and he wondered when he'd realised she was now a woman and not a little girl begging favours and succour from 'Uncle Seth'. Come to think of it, she hadn't called him that for years. As his eyes savoured all the details that proved to his awakening body that indeed she was no longer a child, she turned from the bed to face him. Caught as he was in his imagination, he flushed, storing away for further reflection the odd yet appealing expression she gave him.

When had she got so close? He could almost feel her body's warmth, could smell the sweet scent of her hair. His hands, such useless things, wanted to draw her to him as she closed the small gap between them. Her body lightly touching his, his breath hitched as she placed a hand on his upper arm, its warmth searing his skin through his robes. Reaching up, her fingertips gently grazed his cheek leaving tendrils of sensation behind them. So soft her lips as she kissed him tenderly on the mouth, their heat lingering as she pulled back enough to gaze steadily at him. And her eyes--the world resided in their depths.

Wordlessly she left him, a secret smile gracing the lips he could still feel against his own. Mesmerized, he whispered, "Lenore," as he watched the heavy chestnut plait swinging back and forth in time to her steps. Bemused, he closed the door to the room long after her departure and, warding it against the curious, went to bed himself a much happier man.

Harry woke abruptly, eyes wide open, his heart racing. Disoriented, he raised his head, reassured when his hand encountered the prickly rasp on his husband's face. Summoning some energy, he shifted till he was half on, half off Severus, their legs scissored. He burrowed his face into Severus' shoulder and nuzzled him a moment, placing a sloppy kiss on the soft spot where shoulder meets chest. Content, he drifted back to sleep.

An arm snaking under his neck beneath the pillow woke Severus. He muzzily noted the shifted weight, grateful he'd be able to walk on the morrow, for the other position usually meant shooting pains in his back if held too long. He felt Harry bury his head in his shoulder, the other arm thrown possessively around his waist, hand splayed along his side.

With the nuzzled kiss on his shoulder, he came fully awake, a frisson of desire working its way up his spine. Tightening his arms, he pulled Harry closer, suppressing the want, the need until a time he knew they could both enjoy it. The soft, steady snores wafting across his chest told him Harry had gone back to sleep.

As his thoughts meandered, his hands lazily stroked Harry's back and sides. Every now and again, Harry would loose one of those warm, moist sighs and snuggle deeper into the embrace. He'd always cherished most the quiet times like this, whether in front of the fire, or in the soft downiness of their four-poster bed, or more rarely, out in the grove under the stars.

As the night whiled away, his ruminations turned to more urgent, mundane things.

The Wards. More than a year's work remained to finish the list of towns and burrows still needing them.

Too long, he thought. Harry will never survive it. I won't survive it. There are so few left. Only two of the five original teams remain, plus Harry, with none to replace them. But it must be done. The longer we delay, the more we die.

With such morbid thoughts, he realised he could not abide Harry just fading into the Hinterlands. The mere thought sent shivers of dread through him, not because he feared death, but because the smallest hint of life without Harry was too terrible to contemplate. Better to die with Harry than die alone, he thought shuddering.

He must do something about it.

As the dawn crept through the window over the bed, bringing a new light of understanding, Severus formulated his plan, one which would satisfy everyone's requirements. It was his turn to offer the support, the necessary energy Harry needed not just to survive, but to thrive.

We need to be together.

Harry chose that moment of deep resolve to awaken. Tightening his arms and legs, he caressed Severus with a sleepy, I'd like that. You always worry too much. I still love you. And although there's nothing to forgive, if it makes you feel better, apology accepted. He tilted his head up in a silent bid for kisses, which Severus was only too glad to oblige. With a deep sigh of contentment, Harry broke the kiss, snuggled back into his shoulder, a small smile gracing his lips as he quickly dropped back into sleep.

Severus savoured the moment and with a happier frame of mind, continued to think through all the obstacles to his plan. Content when finished, confident it would work, he allowed himself the small indulgence of feeling just how profoundly he loved this man. Burying his free hand in Harry's hair, he fell into a deep, healing sleep.

TBC