Here's part 3. Sorry it took me so long to write it, but real life interfered. as always, i own nothing but the plot. Any comments would be welcome as wither a rewiew, or an e mail.
When
Harry walked into the staff room and saw Severus drinking his usual
mug full of coffee, his first impulse was to bloody the man's nose.
His aching body wholeheartedly agreed with his brain. One could not
spend nights on Snape's couch and not pay the price, Harry Potter or
not. To add on to Harry's consternation, both Flitwick and Trelawney
were in the room, negating any possibility of having a talk with
Snape. Instead, Harry made his way to the coffee pot, poured himself
a nice cuppa and left without saying a word to anyone. What was the
point, really? Snape was studiously reading Witch Weekly, upside down
and Harry could barely tolerate the other two. Besides, he had an
annoyed animagus, not to mention a sleepy child in his rooms.
An
exuberant ,"Daddy!" from the bathroom welcomed him home.
The rather tousled Ron Weasley waved from the open bathroom door,
showing that he did indeed survive another night long session with
the youngest Potter.
"Any news about,.. er.. well"
"He's here, I know nothing more, nor do I want to at this point" replied Harry while following his son out of the bathroom and into his room. "I saw him in the staff room"
"Whom Dad?"
"Professor
Snape, and before you ask, you can see him at breakfast" That
produced the usual speedy dressing from Killian and the three made
their entrance to the Great Hall just before the students were due to
arrive. The boy made a beeline to the seat on Snape's left, plopped
himself onto the chair and busied himself with a pastry. Harry didn't
want to be in the great hall. He wasn't hungry. Neither he didn't
fancy sitting at the head table, exhibited like a rare animal. He was
no longer a child, and Hogwarts had lost it's wonder sometime between
his departure to the university and his return. The charmed ceiling
didn't seem interesting and the house elves were to be avoided at all
costs. Sometime between 17 and 23, The Boy Who Lived got his own life
and Hogwarts was stifling him. The only reason he did return to the
school after getting his Muggle M.B.B.S. and license to practice
medicine was the death of Poppy Pomfrey. Her replacement had just
been found, thus leaving Harry only his emergency medi-wizardry
classes. How Dumbledore got the change of curriculum past the Board
of Governors, and specifically Lucius Malfoy, was still a mystery to
him. As things stood, Harry taught third years and up, and
supplemented Remus' DADA curriculum. It wasn't a bad job; he just
didn't want to be at here.
Tugging
on his sleeve signaled that Killian had finished his breakfast.
"What
would you like to do for the rest of the day?" The brown haired
nine year old licked wiped his mouth with his sleeve, much to Harry's
consternation and looked over at Severus. "Maybe later you can,
but not until Professor Snape and I have a talk, why don't you visit
the headmaster meanwhile?" That produced a pout, but Killian
obeyed, getting up and walking over to Dumbledore who was, as usual
happy to see the boy. Meanwhile Harry noticed Severus finishing his
food, and quickly left the hall, knowing that the man would follow
him. Even if he didn't want to talk to him, he did want to see
Killian, and Harry knew that.
Severus caught up to Harry
halfway to the hospital wing.
"You wished to talk, Mr. Potter?"
"What happened yesterday night?"
"And I assume you have a good reason for wanting to know that information?"
"Killian wouldn't sleep until he saw you. What happened?"
"That, Mr. Potter is between me and my brain. Safe to assume me alive , seeing as we're having a conversation. Beyond that, is none of your concern."
"Right, of course," replied Harry as he held the infirmary door for Severus and led him to his office. The new medi-witch wasn't present, allowing them a modicum of privacy.
"Do the, er. Herbal remedies.. Not work anymore?"
"They do, although my body is growing accustomed to the effects and that means longer exposures for the same result. Which would explain my absence from your rooms yester night."
"What happened Severus? Do not make me scan you. I only ask to I don't expose you to unnecessary magic". Harry knew it was a blatant lie, but it was the most logical reason for his question. Severus was nothing if not a logical man.
"Nothing more than overexposure to cruciatus and two broken ribs. I trust you can take care of that? I have already reported to Albus, so there is time."
"Always", said Harry and started repeating by now familiar routine of patching up the other man. Lately, he's been doing it every week. As he wound the potion soaked gauze around Severus' ribs, he marked it as another reason for making Voldemort's death as painful as he could.
