AUTHOR: suaveserpens
DISCLAIMERS: All belongs to J.K. Rowling's. No profit for me.
PAIRING: Harry/Snape
RATING: R
SUMMARY: In his seventh year at Hogwarts, Harry is injured and Snape has to take care of him. They hate each other, but... it's slash and it's a cliché, so you know what will happen!
FEEDBACK: Review it and I'll update sooner!
THANKS TO Nymphadora Tonks1, my beta-reader! She's fast and clever. Go read her stuff too!
CHAPTER 1
Gradually, the images became more focused. The old stone walls, the arches, and the humidity that filled the air. Where was he? Slowly, he turned on the bed and everything span around. He had to close his eyes again. Then he felt a presence, something alive approaching. He opened his eyes. A black shadow loomed over him.
"Potter."
"Hm. Who's..."
"Finally you are awakening."
"Professor... Snape?" Harry asked, trying to raise himself onto his elbows.
The professor stopped him, pushing his shoulders against the bed firmly.
"Do not try to stand up. You are in a severely debilitated state. Stay calm.
"But... what..."
"You were injured in the latest battle against the Dark Lord forces. At the moment, you are in a healing process."
"Did he... did he survive?"
"We don't know, Potter."
"And... er... my friends? Ron, Hermione? And professor Lupin?"
"They are all alive, at least from the latest news I've received. There are more and more casualties as the war proceeds."
"Oh! And I'm here, doing nothing!"
"You have been unconscious, how could you have done anything? Don't be foolish. What you must do now is to rest, to recover your strength."
"I'm thirsty..."
"Potter, in the last days I've been keeping you magically hydrated. The thirst you feel is psychological. It's not real."
"*You* are taking care of me?" Harry stared at his teacher with an intrigued expression. Snape only arched an eyebrow. "How long have I been here?"
"Four days."
Harry sighed.
"So... what can I do with my psychological thirst?"
Now it was Snape that sighed.
"You are too weak to sit up."
Snape summoned a plastic water bottle and a plastic pipe of more or less 2 feet length. He put one of the ends of the pipe inside the bottle, and placed the other end to Harry's lips and held the bottle up, over the bed.
Still with the long straw into his mouth, Harry let himself be defeated by sleep once more.
The next time he awoke, the first thing Harry noticed was the strong herbal smell that surrounded him. The dungeons. Snape's quarters, near the Potions Laboratory.
He tried to sit up, but an intense pain in his rib cage stopped him and made him groan aloud.
"Potter" said Snape, in a severe tone, sliding in his direction. "Haven't I told you not to sit up?"
"Ouch..."
Snape circled the bed and went to a chest of drawers. He opened the top drawer, which held many flasks containing various potions. He found the one he was searching for and returned to Harry's side. He removed the blankets from Harry's body and opened his pyjama shirt. Harry watched all this in astonishment and helplessness. He saw Snape open the flask and pour a little of the green slimy balsam on his hand; watched, aghast, while Snape rubbed the balsam over his chest and massaged him vigorously. Harry closed his eyes. That was... good; and strange. For the very first time, he associated his Potions master with a pleasant feeling. Ugh. Better not to think on that. The balsam made him even dizzier than he was before. When Snape finished the massage, closed Harry's shirt and covered him again, Harry fell asleep once more.
TBC...