Author's Note: So sorry about the delay – again. Thanks to all those who have taken the time to review chapter 23; as I am very busy, I'm afraid I won't have time to comment on any reviews individually this time.

Chapter 24

Interruptions

Harry hesitated on the doorstep before entering the room Mrs Weasley had shown him – Fred and George's old room. He had been waiting so impatiently for this moment to arrive, but now that he was here he suddenly felt apprehensive. What if Snape looked worse now than he had done at St Mungo's? What if he wasn't recovering as well as they had all told him he was? He took a deep breath and opened the door.

Snape was lying in one of the beds, covered with a thick layer of blankets and quilts. The room was icy cold; the window was open and let in a liberal amount of chilly spring air. To Harry's relief, Snape looked much better than he had at St Mungo's. He was still much paler than usual, but his eyes no longer were feverish and glazed, and his breath wasn't wheezy anymore. He looked pleasantly surprised to see his son.

'Come in, Harry,' he said. His voice was slightly hoarse.

'Hello,' Harry said nervously, closing the door behind him.

'Could you close that window, please?'

Harry went over to the window, managed to shut it with some difficulty, and then sat down on a chair beside Snape's bed.

'How are you feeling?' he asked.

'Under the circumstances, well,' Snape said calmly. 'What about you?'

'Me?' said Harry, taken aback. 'Er ... I'm fine.'

'Everything all right at Hogwarts?'

'Yes, it's fine,' said Harry, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Snape was the one who was ill – Harry should be asking him questions, not the other way around. But, of course, Snape was his father. Perhaps this was the way fathers talked to their sons when they hadn't seen them for a week, even if they were ill. Harry wouldn't know. Uncle Vernon would never behave like this, anyway, that much was certain. 'Everything all right here at The Burrow?' he added quickly.

'Yes,' said Snape, turning slightly in his bed, and grimacing as he did so. 'Mrs Weasley's cooking is excellent.'

'Can't you move?' said Harry, horrified at the expression on Snape's face.

'Just a few broken ribs,' Snape muttered. 'Nothing to worry about ...'

There was a knock on the door, and Mrs Weasley entered the room, carrying a tray packed with food. 'Time to eat, Professor Snape!' She put the tray down on Fred and George's desk. 'Let's see if you can sit up today, shall we?'

Snape grimaced again, but with annoyance rather than pain this time. He looked from Mrs Weasley to Harry, and then back again.

'Oh, yes,' said Mrs Weasley, turning to Harry. 'Why don't you go down to the kitchen, Harry? You must be starving. Dinner's ready; you and Arthur can begin, and I'll be down soon.' Mrs Weasley looked expectantly at him, and Harry realised that she wanted him to leave at once, grudgingly doing as he was told.

'Shepherd's Pie, Harry,' said Mr Weasley, when Harry entered the kitchen. 'Looks delicious, doesn't it?'

Harry could feel his mouth watering, but he didn't want to eat anything until he got some answers. 'He is getting better, isn't he?' he said, looking scrutinisingly at Mr Weasley.

'Of course he is, Harry,' Mr Weasley said at once. 'He's much better now than when he came here. At first he couldn't eat, he couldn't drink, he couldn't move and he could barely talk. Healer Smethwyck says he's improving steadily. There's nothing to worry about; Professor Snape will make a full recovery.' He smiled kindly at Harry.

Harry sighed with relief, smiled back, and helped himself to a huge plate of Shepherd's Pie.

As the weekend wore on, Harry realised why he hadn't been allowed to visit his father earlier. Snape was still very ill, and he had to sleep a lot of the time. Even when he was awake, Harry barely got to see him, as there were so many people who had to discuss important matters with him in private.

On Friday evening, Mrs Weasley told Harry that Snape was sleeping, and that he could see him right after breakfast the next day. After spending the night in Ron's room, however, Harry waited in vain the whole morning to see Snape. After he had had breakfast with Mr and Mrs Weasley, Bill Weasley and Tonks suddenly showed up, each carrying a large stack of important-looking documents, which they said they had to discuss with Snape.

'Dumbledore's orders, Mum,' said Bill, when Mrs Weasley gave them a disapproving look. Mrs Weasley didn't want Snape to be disturbed, but reluctantly allowed Mr Weasley to take Bill and Tonks upstairs, together with Snape's breakfast.

As she began washing the dishes rather noisily, she suggested that Harry get his homework out of the way. Harry grudgingly agreed; he had neglected his school work somewhat over the past week, and he needed to catch up. After all, he was supposed to pretend as though everything were normal.

Mr Weasley, Bill and Tonks stayed with Snape for hours, and when they came down again they announced that he was sleeping. Harry sighed, and carried on with his essay on memory charms. Bill and Tonks were staying for lunch, and Harry didn't really feel like talking to them right now.

After they had had their lunch, just as Harry was about to ask Mrs Weasley if he could take Snape's lunch up to him, there was a loud 'crack' as Healer Smethwyck Apparated into the kitchen. Mrs Weasley promptly handed him the tray with Snape's meal, and he disappeared up the stairs. Harry helped with the washing-up, checking his watch at regular intervals.

After almost an hour, Healer Smethwyck came downstairs again, and told them that he had given Snape a sleeping draught, and that he wouldn't wake up for at least four hours. Harry suppressed his annoyance, and politely asked Mrs Weasley if she needed help with anything around the house.

When Bill, Tonks and Healer Smethwyck had all left, Harry went outside to degnome the garden. He took quite some satisfaction in hurling the gnomes over the hedge, and felt his annoyance abate somewhat. He worked for a long while, not noticing how quickly time was passing. Suddenly, Mrs Weasley opened a window and called him.

'Harry, dear! Professor Snape wants to see you.'

Harry quickly dropped the gnome he was holding and rushed inside. He ran up the stairs, pretending that he didn't hear Mrs Weasley when she told him to wash his hands. He tore open the door to Snape's room and slammed it shut as soon as he was inside.

Snape was sitting in bed today, propped up with several pillows. He looked amused when he saw Harry. At least, that was how Harry thought he looked. He'd never really seen Snape amused before, so he couldn't be entirely sure.

'What have you been doing?' said Snape, looking at Harry's dirty and dishevelled appearance. He was still quite hoarse.

'Degnoming the garden,' Harry said breathlessly, pushing his greasy hair out of his face and sitting down beside the bed again.

'You'd better wash before Mrs Weasley sees you,' said Snape, his dark eyes glittering, as they did on rare occasions.

'I will,' said Harry. 'Are you feeling better today?'

'Yes. But Healer Smethwyck seems to think I'm not getting enough sleep. I wanted to see you as soon as he had left, but he wouldn't permit it. He even gave me a sleeping draught to make sure I followed his orders.'

Harry nodded. So, Snape had wanted to see him. That was nice. 'Well, here I am,' he said, awkwardly.

'Tell me what's been going on at Hogwarts,' said Snape. 'What have I missed?'

'Oh, nothing exciting,' said Harry, trying to remember what had happened in the week that had gone by since Snape had gone on his mission. 'Professor Dumbledore told everyone that my great-aunt was ill, so they think I'm at the funeral right now. All week everyone's been asking me how my great-aunt is, and telling me how sorry they are when I told them she's dead. But I think I've done pretty well, keeping up appearances. Though Malfoy tried to eavesdrop on me and my friends once ...'

'Malfoy,' Snape spat. 'That little brat. There isn't a day that goes by when I don't wish I could give him a Vanishing Potion ... or something worse.'

Harry grinned. 'You know, you're a very good actor. You had me convinced for years that Malfoy was your favourite student.'

'Hardly!' Snape snorted. 'But it is in our best interest, as well as that of the Order, that people keep thinking that.'

'Yes,' said Harry, 'I know. What about you? I suppose you can't tell me what happened on your mission; who cursed you?'

Snape sighed. 'I promised Dumbledore not to tell you, Harry.'

Harry nodded. 'I understand. Although Dumbledore isn't always right about everything.'

Snape looked surprised. He had probably never heard anyone speak like that about the Headmaster. Well, not one of the students, anyway, and most certainly not Harry. But he would have heard much worse than that from Voldemort and his Death Eaters, of course.

'I mean, if he had only told me about the Department of Mysteries,' Harry elaborated. 'If he'd told me that ... You-Know-Who might try to lure me there ...'

'Yes,' Snape said thoughtfully. 'Perhaps that was a mistake, although Dumbledore had his reasons for not telling you. But it wasn't only his fault that you went to the Ministry that night –'

'No, it was my own fault,' Harry interrupted him.

'I didn't mean that,' Snape said softly. 'If I hadn't stopped giving you Occlumency lessons –'

'That was my fault,' Harry said quickly. 'I shouldn't have looked in your Pensieve –'

'I shouldn't have left you alone with the Pensieve in the first place. And no matter what you did, I shouldn't have thrown you out of my office like that ...And I should have tried harder to teach you ...'

'That wouldn't have made any difference,' Harry said firmly. 'I didn't try hard enough to learn. And I should have gone to you when I had that vision of Sirius being tortured –'

'You would have come to me if you had thought you could trust me,' said Snape. 'If I hadn't treated you the way I did for five years –'

'Well, you wouldn't have treated me like that if I hadn't ... if I ... if James Potter hadn't treated you like that.'

Snape smiled. 'That's no excuse, Harry.'

'No,' said Harry. 'But it's an explanation. So there you go; it's really all James Potter's fault.'

'That's quite some faulty logic,' said Snape, sounding tired. 'But all right – let's leave it at that.'

Harry grinned at him, when, suddenly, the door opened and Madam Pomfrey walked briskly into the room.

'What's this I've been hearing?' she said. 'Healer Smethwyck said you're not sleeping enough.' She stared at Snape, her eyes narrowed. 'Oh, I don't like the look of you at all, young man. You should be lying down.'

Harry stared at Snape, and realised that Madam Pomfrey was right; he looked very tired and ill, and his voice had become hoarser while he was talking to Harry.

Madam Pomfrey caught sight of Harry. 'Potter – outside. Now!'

Harry fumed with the injustice of it. He had hardly been with Snape at all; Bill and Tonks had been there for hours, and now he had to leave his father again so soon. He went and washed his face and hands, splashing his face angrily with hot water. Why wouldn't they let him talk to his father in peace! And why could he, Harry, never think of anything good to say once he was with him? There he had been, finally on his own with Snape, and all they had talked about was whose fault it had been that the Occlumency lessons had failed ... When there was so much more Harry would have wanted to ask Snape.

When he had washed, Harry went downstairs and offered to lay the table to keep his mind off things, trying not to show his annoyance. After a few minutes, Madam Pomfrey came into the kitchen.

'Professor Snape has been talking too much today,' she said, eyeing Harry accusingly.

'That's what I thought,' said Mrs Weasley. 'But someone had to spend hours with him, discussing work!' She threw a dirty look at Mr Weasley.

'It was important, Molly,' he said quietly.

'Well, no more visitors today,' Madam Pomfrey said firmly, glancing at Harry again. 'And only a little broth for dinner. And whatever you do – make sure Professor Snape gets his rest tomorrow!'

Harry was disappointed. He had been hoping to have another conversation with his father that evening, but Mrs Weasley only let him look in quickly to say Good Night. To Harry's relief Snape looked slightly improved, however, and said he was looking forward to seeing Harry again the next day.

On Sunday morning, Healer Smethwyck came right after breakfast and stayed with Snape for what seemed to Harry like several hours. When he came down to the kitchen again, Harry eyed him intently. Was it his imagination, or did Smethwyck look more concerned today than he had the day before?

'How is he?' Mrs Weasley asked.

'He is still improving,' said Healer Smethwyck, 'but yesterday was too strenuous for him. I keep telling Professor Dumbledore that he shouldn't be allowed to have so many visitors, but ...' Smethwyck's voice faltered.

'Don't worry,' Mrs Weasley said grimly, 'I will personally make sure that he doesn't have any visitors today.' Her nostrils were flaring, and she looked murderous. She was clearly going to have things her way today.

'Er ... Mrs Weasley?' said Harry.

Mrs Weasley turned to him, and her expression softened. 'I won't keep you from seeing him, dear. But only a short visit today. Professor Snape's health is the most important thing, after all. You do see that, don't you?'

'Yes, of course,' said Harry, trying, once again, to disregard his disappointment.

When Healer Smethwyck had left, it was no more than ten minutes before Professor McGonagall Apparated into the kitchen.

'Good Morning Molly, Arthur, Potter.' She nodded at them. 'I need to see Severus.'

Mrs Weasley's nostrils began flaring again. 'I'm afraid that's impossible, Minerva,' she said curtly. 'Healer Smethwyck said he's to have no visitors.'

'This is important,' said McGonagall.

'It's always something important!' Mrs Weasley snapped. 'I said, no visitors.'

McGonagall raised her eyebrows. Harry was amazed that Mrs Weasley dared address her like that. McGonagall had once been her teacher, after all. Harry couldn't imagine ever talking to her that way.

Before McGonagall could say anything, Mr Weasley intervened. 'What is it about, Minerva?'

McGonagall glanced at Harry, hesitating. 'It's Remus.'

'Oh,' said Mr Weasley, exchanging a meaningful look with his wife. 'Is it ...'

'Yes,' said McGonagall.

There was a pause. Harry had no idea what they were talking about. What was going on with Lupin?

'Oh, very well,' Mrs Weasley said impatiently after a while. 'But you will be quick, won't you, Minerva?'

'Of course,' said McGonagall. 'And when I'm done with Professor Snape I'll take you back to Hogwarts, Potter.' She went upstairs.

'It was very important, Harry,' Mrs Weasley said apologetically when she was gone.

'I'm not leaving without talking to ... to Sn– ... to my father!' Harry said testily, thinking that he really had to decide what he was going to call Snape. 'And what's wrong with Professor Lupin, anyway?'

'Of course you'll se Professor Snape before you go, Harry,' Mrs Weasley said soothingly, disregarding his question. 'Now go and pack your things, and as soon as Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape are done you can see him.'

McGonagall was in Snape's room for only ten minutes or so. As soon as she came downstairs again, Harry went up to see him. Snape looked much better today; he was sitting up again, and his face had more colour. He also sounded less hoarse when he spoke.

'Good Morning, Harry. Professor McGonagall told me she's bringing you back to Hogwarts.'

'Yes,' said Harry, frowning. 'Healer Smethwyck says you're not to have any visitors today ... Yesterday was too strenuous for you.'

Snape shrugged, then grimaced in pain again. 'Well if it was, it wasn't your fault – I've hardly seen you all weekend.'

'When do you think you'll be back at Hogwarts?' Harry asked, trying to sound casual.

'As soon as Healer Smethwyck and Professor Dumbledore let me,' Snape said reassuringly. 'I shall try to come back before next weekend. But if I don't, I'll ask Professor Dumbledore if you can come for a visit again. If you want to, that is.'

'Of course I do,' said Harry.

'He might say no, though,' Snape said warningly.

'Potter!' came McGonagall's voice from the kitchen. 'Are you coming soon?'

'I'm on my way!' Harry shouted.

'Good Bye, Harry,' said Snape. 'It was nice to see you again ...'

'Er ...' Harry hesitated, but he knew he had to say this before he left. 'I've been thinking about what I should call you ... you know, when we're alone ... You said I could call you anything I wanted ...'

'Yes?' Snape's face was inscrutable.

'Well ...' Harry said slowly, 'would you mind if I called you "Dad"?'

Snape's face remained as inscrutable as ever. He didn't even blink. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. 'Of course I wouldn't mind.'

Harry took a deep breath. 'Well, then, that's what I'll call you.'

Snape nodded.

'POTTER!' came McGonagall's voice again.

'I'd better go ...' said Harry.

Snape nodded again. 'Good Bye, Harry.'

Harry went to the door and opened it. ''Bye, Dad,' he said, and closed it quickly behind him.