Chapter Two: Snape's Awake
Snape's eyes remained fixed on Harry, who felt unable to move under their penetrating gaze. Snape's lips moved and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down but no sound was heard. This movement startled Harry into motion and he retrieved a cup of liquid the mediwitch had set aside for just this purpose. Inserting a straw into the drink, Harry leaned close and offered.
"Just a bit. Too much won't be good for your stomach." Harry advised softly.
Snape's eyes narrowed but he took several small sips. "Potter" he hissed. His eyes remained narrowed and his lip curled into a familiar sneer.
Harry used the excuse of putting the cup aside to glance away from Snape. Looking back, Snape's eyes were closed and his breathing indicated he was again asleep.
Harry retreated to the kitchen and began making tea. He felt shaky, like he had just dodged a nasty hex.
'Well, what did I truly expect? Pledges of eternal gratitude? My hero? How could one word express so much hatred? Perhaps the way he hissed it like some poisonous snake.' Harry poured himself a cup of tea and buttered a scone. He ate and drank mechanically as he considered Snape. 'Perhaps I can keep dosing him with potions and avoid any confrontations? Just like those muggles who doped him and left him to rot.' Harry sighed. 'I found him, took him from that and brought him here so he could recover properly. So now I just wait for him to tear into me.' A lightening bolt of rage electrified him. "Doesn't he realize what I've gone through to get him here?!" Harry's outburst surprised him and the anger disappeared as quickly as it had come. "No, he doesn't," Harry muttered into his tea cup. "I'm an idiot to think he'd feel anything but hatred for me. I brought him here to make things right, not to win over his affections." Harry snorted at the mental picture of an affectionate Snape. "I will do right by him, no matter his hatred." He was resolute, but why was his chest tight?
A loud crack outside announced a visitor. Harry glanced out the window to see the mediwitch walking to the door. His wards were set to allow only a select few to apparate to the grounds. He waved his hand absently and the door opened for her.
"Good morning, Hypericia" called Harry as she stepped inside.*
"Good morning, Harry!" she returned cheerily. "How's sleeping beauty?"
Harry snorted. "He woke briefly and I gave him a sip to drink. He knew who I was because he spoke my name (or he was having nightmares involving me) and then fell back asleep rather quickly."
"Really? He woke? Well the drink had a strong sleep potion in it. Can't have him up prematurely. Good that he knew you, some muggle drugs can damage the mind so it's a positive that he recognized you. Still early though. We'll see!" She clapped a friendly hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed.
Harry pasted a weak smile on his face. "Tea, Hypericia? Mrs. Weasley also sent a batch of scones." Harry set out the plate of scones, butter, and jelly and poured a cup of tea at her nod.
"Lovely, lovely," she praised between bites. "Always rushing around, never a moment to enjoy a spot of tea. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"Well, let me go check on Mr. Snape." She set her tea cup down and smiled at Harry.
"Do you need anything?" Harry inquired.
"No, no. You stay here and let me do my work." With another pat she headed upstairs.
"I have no desire to go upstairs." Harry stated softly. He flicked his wrist and the dishes set off to wash and put themselves away.
The ringing of the phone interrupted the silence. Harry found he rather preferred a combination of magical and muggle devices. His cottage was originally muggle and he kept the phone that was already there.
"Hello?" he queried.
"Harry! It's Arthur Weasley! How are you? Hermione let me make the call. Brilliant, this telephone, brilliant! I'm here to watch the grandkids you know. Molly's quite busy and I was glad to take the day to help. Hermione needs a bit of time to herself you understand, new mother and all. Well, here's Hermione!" Harry chuckled. Mr. Weasley's enthusiasm for muggles had not waned. He loved visiting Ron and Hermione's house and exploring all the functional "muggle artifacts" Hermione chose to use in her household.
"Hi Harry." Hermione's voice seemed so calm and content these days. That tight spot in his chest loosened just hearing her.
"Hi Hermione. How is everyone?"
"Munchkins sleeping through the night routinely. Alleluia! Ron's alive and unscathed. Myself, tired but happy."
"Glad to hear it. What's up?"
"Just a quick check to see how you are and your guest."
"He woke. Briefly. This morning." Harry's voice was flat. Somewhere an invisible demon was giggling madly as it tightened the knot in Harry's chest.
"Conflicting emotions?" Hermione asked softly. She knew him better than he did at times.
"Yeah." Harry was studying the floor. Hermione wasn't even there, but he still didn't want to lift his eyes.
"When you're ready to talk, I'm here." She said.
"Thanks."
"He can always go to St Mungo's." Hermione felt that Snape should have been there anyway.
"No. It's not safe. Remember Bode?"
"Well, I'm here for you." Hermione was still speaking softly. In the background he could hear the loud wail of a disgruntled baby and soon another joining in.
"Thanks Hermione. Let Ron know I won't make the next Cannons game so he can find someone else to go with him. I'll let you go."
"Bye Harry. We'll talk soon.
"Bye Hermione."
"Well," Hypericia had come downstairs. "He's still out cold and that's good. He's healing right on pace so we'll just let things go as they are. There's a drink aside should he wake. Keep an eye on him and I'll be back around lunch I expect. Floo St Mungo's if there's an emergency. Okay?"
"Yes Hypericia. Got it. Leave yourself some extra time and I'll serve lunch."
"Wonderful!" She smiled at Harry and swept out.
***
The next few days crept by, each day nearly identical to the other. Snape slept. Hypericia checked on him several times a day. Harry questioned his decisions and sanity. An insane demon delightfully twisted Harry's innards.
While Harry's mind was busy with Snape, he kept his body busy in the garden. Yard work at the Dursley's had been torture, here it was pleasure. There was peace to be found digging in the soil. The cottage was quite old and once had a magnificent garden. It was like finding buried treasure as each plant matured enough for Harry to recognize. Roses, foxglove, hollyhocks, daisies, peonies and lilacs were discovered. He dug out the overgrowth, pruned and divided. He started a compost heap and amended the soil with rotted manure. He mulched, watered and planted anew. In his mind he didn't see the manicured copy cat style his Aunt Petunia preferred but rather the wild abandoned of the Burrow. It was with great satisfaction that he saw his garden take shape.
This particular afternoon, about a week after Snape's arrival, Harry was contemplating where to locate an herb garden. After so many years of eating poorly he had developed a taste for eating well and found cooking enjoyable. Experiments led him to discover the freshest foods were usually the best, therefore fresh herbs could only add to the experience.
'Let's not go too crazy. Just the ones you actually use, like basil, oregano, sage, chive, rosemary, thyme maybe parsley. Need lots of sun and well drained soil. Maybe over…' His thoughts were interrupted as Hypericia stepped outside.
"He's awake!" she said merrily. Blinking in the bright sun she didn't notice Harry go pale. (Or hear the giggling demon.) "Weak as a newborn, got him propped up. Will you take him some tea and beef broth? Thanks! He may need some help and I doubt he'll like that but remember he's weak. I need to head back to St Mungo's but I'll be back around dinner. There's a clearly labeled pain potion if he complains of pain. Floo if there's an emergency." She smiled widely and with a crack, disapparated.
Harry stood still for a long moment before moving one heavy foot after another to the cottage. After washing his hands, he prepared tea and broth as if for his own last meal. He loaded up a tray with the necessaries and numbly walked upstairs.
He stepped into the guest bedroom after a soft tap on the door. Snape was indeed awake, sitting propped up on a wide array of pillows and still looking deathly ill. His eyes had narrowed and locked on Harry as he came in with the tray.
"Potter," he hissed.
"Yes, Professor." Harry forced himself closer and set the tray on the bedside table, shifting the potion bottles to make room. "I've brought you some tea and broth. Hypericia, the mediwitch, has been giving you nutritive potions…"
"Potter! Stop blathering. Where am I?"
"In my home." Ah, the interrogation begins. The demon is dancing now.
A long cold silence and Snape's eyes were drilling holes into Harry. Harry held his gaze but wished Snape would blink.
"Have you derived a great deal of satisfaction? Does it amuse you? To see me like this? Do you feel superior? Settling some score? Revenge? Have Weasley and Granger delighted in this as well?" Snape had started in an emotionless voice and ended in a fierce snarl. Snape's face suffused red with emotion. At one time Harry would have been enraged with Snape's accusations, now a sense of sadness pervaded him.
"You have a lengthy recovery ahead of you. There was concern for your safety at St Mungo's. The aurors are kept busy even to this day and you've made many enemies." Harry said calmly.
"So you hide behind Gryffindor nobility. Always the hero, Potter?" Snape sneered. "Spare me. Send me to St Mungo's."
"The Fidelius Charm is in use to protect this place. At least consider…"
"No!" Snape shouted, coughed and began to choke. Harry quickly leaned Snape forward and slapped his back with several sharp blows to help dislodge the blockage. The choking stopped and Snape took in a rattled breath. He panted as if he had been running. Harry shifted Snape to recline against the pillows again. He took the napkin from the tray and wiped the spittle from Snape's face. Harry then held up the tea cup. Snape reached for it with a shaking hand, so much so that Harry wrapped his hand over Snape's and assisted him in taking a drink.
"Find another charity case Potter. I don't want your pity." Snape said hoarsely.
"I don't pity you. I don't feel sorry for you. Despite all the terrible things in your life you've always had the ability to choose how to respond. You let the world see you as a miserable git; even the ministry didn't really make an effort to find you after the last battle. But I came to understand my responsibility, thus you are here. If you don't want charity then I'll accept your financial reimbursement. I warn you now it's a considerable sum." Although irritated, Harry's voice remained calm.
"What do you think your responsibility is to me?" Snape growled.
"You fought Voldemort for longer than I've been alive. For that fact alone you should be honored." Snape snorted. "The Order was decimated and in disarray. The ministry did you a great disservice by not finding you immediately. After the reading of Dumbledore's will, I knew something had to be done. Dumbledore would have found you. It was the right thing to do. I had the means, I did it."
"Convince of your own moral superiority? Comparing yourself to Dumbledore? You are nothing to him. Nothing! It's a wonder your swollen head fit through the door. Self-righteous, self-aggrandizing, pompous…" Snape sputtered to a halt.
Harry looked at Snape closely. He was sickly pale again, his thin lips drawn back over his teeth in a feral manner, his black eyes sparked with rage. Harry had a sudden impulse to grin but restrained himself.
"Broth?" He asked softly, offering the cup. Snape looked wary. "You're taxing yourself and will set back your recovery. If you wish to go to St Mungo's, you'll need whatever strength you can manage for the transfer." Harry offered the broth again. Snape slowly took it, watching Harry carefully. Harry put his hand over Snape's to steady the cup and helped him to drink all the broth. Harry set the cup aside, refolded the napkin to cover the earlier spittle and handed it to Snape. Snape wiped his face and let the napkin drop. Snape was clearly exhausted and Harry removed several pillows so he could lie comfortably. As Harry gathered the tray and napkin, he heard Snape mutter, "Conceited whelp looking for me to assuage some misplaced sense of guilt." Harry sighed, headed for the door, stopping briefly to see Snape's heavy eyelids close.
***
"He drank both the broth and the tea," he told Hypericia at dinner. "He's been sleeping since."
"Good, good, "Hypericia smiled. "Same for him for dinner. Oh, I see you have it ready! I'll take care of that. You finish your dinner." The mediwitch relieved Harry of the tray and bustled upstairs.
Harry poked and prodded at his meal. 'Stubborn prat, how can I fix things if he won't let me." Harry dropped his fork onto the plate with a clatter.' Why do I let him bother me? He always knows how to get under my skin. Grow up already, I'm not seventeen anymore. If he wants to leave, I can't take it personally." He sent the dishes off to take care of themselves.
Hypericia found him a bit later in the living room staring into the fire.
"Well now," Hypericia still seemed cheerful. "He drank all his dinner and he's sound asleep. I'm surprised you didn't hear the fuss he made at my cleansing charm, like I had right scoured him." She chuckled. "Anywho, caring for someone can be very tiring, so you get your sleep too. Use that charm I taught you to alert you if he has a problem tonight." She took a deep breath and let it out with a whoosh. "Otherwise I'll see you in the morning."
"When is he leaving for St Mungo's?" Harry inquired dully, still staring into the fire.
"Idiot idea. Talked him out of that right quick. He'll leave here under his own power when I say so." Hypericia chuckled again. "Good night."
"Good night Hypericia" returned Harry.
Harry sat for a good while longer staring at the fire, a small smile on his face. The mad demon grumped that his games were no longer fun and cast about for another soul to torture. Harry felt the tension on his chest disappear completely for the first time in a week. 'Now why's that I wonder?'
* Hypericia derived from Hypericum perforatum, the Latin for St John's Wort, an herb often used to treat depression.