A/N: This was written for a meme, where I used people's livejournal icons as the inspiration for a fanfic. I loved this one, so I'm sharing it.
Warnings: Hm. None?
Disclaimer: You own them. No, really, you do. Haven't you checked lately?
Summary: The war had gone on, it seemed, for eternity. It had been two years. No slash.
Harry was exhausted. Again. It was always like that these days, now that the two of them had been locked away together "for their own safety." They were only allowed out to fight in battles, and even then they were just a secret weapon. Even then it was only for a couple hours at a time—if that much. And that time was spent fighting, forever fighting. The war had gone on, it seemed, for eternity. It had been two years.
Harry slept as little as possible, in order to hold off the nightmares. In his waking hours, he would train continuously, teaching himself spells and hexes of all sorts, reading books on strategy and war, watching old Muggle martial arts movies and mimicking the moves. He even got Dumbledore to provide him with assorted weaponry, no questions asked.
Harry was always worrying. About the safety of his friends, about whether he was good enough, about if he would eventually run out of things to study. He worried about what would happen to the war if he died, worried that Ron's strategies wouldn't be enough, that Hermione's extensive knowledge of spells and her ability to tinker with them would backfire, that Remus would one day be driven insane in wolf form and attack the wrong pack. He worried that everyone else would die. The only things he didn't worry about were what would happen to him at the end and what all this stress and lack of sleep was doing to his health.
But Severus Snape did worry. He hadn't spent a year and a half alone with the boy to end up still hating him. He convinced Harry, sometimes, to read something for entertainment, or to watch one of his movies without practicing. He played chess with the boy and almost never won, because Severus was anything but a strategist. He made sure Harry ate well and took long, relaxing baths and occasionally had something nice to drink like butterbeer or hot chocolate. And when Harry had gone three days without sleeping or had hurt himself training, Severus made sure he relaxed.
Harry never complained when he was presented with a Dreamless Sleep potion, but he didn't always drink it. Severus didn't usually force him to, mainly because Harry always ended up getting the hint and going to sleep regardless.
But after the final battle, Harry didn't need any hints. He returned to their prison, mostly out of habit and lack of thought—Severus had gone there to enjoy the time without any sort of celebrations. And Harry took a long bath, enjoyed a cup of hot chocolate as he lost spectacularly in a game of chess, and then went into his bedroom. He was asleep before he hit the bed. The older man followed after putting the chess game away, noticed Harry's inelegant sprawl, and allowed a real smile to settle, unseen, on his face. He gently pulled the covers over the boy's sleeping form and tucked him in. Then he conjured a chair next to Harry's bed and picked up a small book that Harry had obviously been reading before he had been called to battle, and started to read.
Harry's sleep that night was peaceful, even without a potion. Severus' fond smile didn't waver, even when Harry woke up and smiled sleepily back at him.