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CHAPTER THREE: SUCH TRIVIAL THINGS

Harry opened his eyes. The sight before him made him groan.

Hospital wing... again?

Only this time there was a difference. There were no beds beside him, only a white curtain surrounding his bed. Ron and Hermione were nowhere to be seen, and there was an almost eerie silence. Not even Madame Pomfrey could be heard fussing around. It was light, so it must have been day. Only Harry had no idea what time or which day, exactly, it was.

He tried to sit up, but upon putting weight on his injured hand he gasped and fell back down. It was then the memories flooded back to him of what he'd done.

Oh shit...

The sound of his movements must have alerted Pomfrey for the next minute the curtains were being drawn back and Harry came face to face with her friendly, but stern face.

"You're awake I see Mr. Potter. How are you feeling?"

"Uhh... a little dizzy, and a bit thirsty?" He answered weakly as his throat was dry and his voice hoarse.

A few minutes later he was being given some painkillers (A potion no doubt produced by Snape as it tasted fouler than it looked) and a bowl of soup. Harry had been informed that he had been asleep for nearly four days, due to the amount of blood he'd lost. Harry thought it strange that still his friends hadn't been down to see him, but brushed it aside as he was given another goblet of dreamless sleep draught.

Harry was in a room, but it wasn't a stark white like the infirmary, it was completely black. He squinted, thinking that maybe it was just dark with no torches lit... but it seemed that no light permeated this room at all. He stretched his arms out in front of him, but felt only air. The ground was firm, presumably stone, and felt smooth and slightly slippery.

The air was still but, as Harry listened, he heard a voice. It was deep and rich, and Harry never wanted it to stop. It was strangely comforting, and seemed to be taking away his fear.

"Who are you...?" Harry whispered, his voice echoing. But the voice didn't falter. He wanted to sit, but found he couldn't make himself. Harry shut his eyes and listened. He'd heard this voice before; he knew that, but never in this tone. This tone was soft... caring even. Harry suddenly got a strong urge to find out who was talking, to see the person. But the room was just so black... so dark. He couldn't even tell the difference between his eyes being open or closed. So how could he possibly see whom it was that was talking? But then again they sounded distant...

Harry tested his legs, gingerly stepping forward. Nothing seemed to be obstructing his path. He took another successful step and felt himself grin. Gaining confidence, Harry began walking at a slow pace but was gradually gaining speed. The voice grew louder and urged him on. Soon Harry had broken out into a run. And he ran and ran and ran... the voice was coming quicker and more urgently in his ears. Harry felt like screaming, felt like growling out in growing frustration. He could hear the voice, but couldn't see a thing. It was the darkness and lack of light of this room that caused Harry to fail seeing the wall coming up in front of him.

He crashed into it full force and felt himself cry out in pain.

The voice stopped.

The night Severus Snape had found Harry had brought back dreadful memories of his own. Although he had never actually done anything of the sort that Harry had done, on many occasions he had more than considered it.

Severus had had a hard life, with everything planned out for him. His family had been one that dated back many centuries and had a very aristocratic view about it. It was extremely pureblood. On the initial rising of the Dark Lord, his family had been one of the first supporters, surrendering themselves to the Dark Lords rule. They had been Severus' parents.

Growing up in an environment that supported the Dark Lord, it was all Severus knew. He realised that it was inevitable that his destiny was to become a Death Eater, and at some point he realised that thought saddened him. True he was a pureblood and thought that they were better than any non-pure-bloods, but he didn't think that they needed to be shunned from existence all together. In fact, he knew many mudbloods that were more intelligent than even some of the pure-bloods.

After coming to the conclusion that he really didn't want to join the Dark Lord, knowing there was no way out, these thoughts consumed him. He had heard stories of horrible tortures and rapes, and of how Death Eaters got pleasure out of performing these acts. He didn't want to partake in any of that, nor would he find it even remotely pleasing.

Many a time he had considered just doing away with himself, but then Severus realised that there may be another way. That other way led to his consultation with Dumbledore. After speaking with the man, he realised that not everything would be lost. He finally had hope. He would work against the Dark Lord, and spy for the good side. A sort of double agent, if you must.

But that wasn't the end of his darker thoughts.

It was easily said that he would be a spy, but actually being convincing and pulling it off was another story. For every fact he re-laid to the good side, he had to cover his tracks to make sure if the Dark Lord found out someone had indeed been spying, that he wasn't found out. It was during these times that he had to face all the horrors of Dark Lord, and once... Severus had to kill another. For months he had nightmares where he would see the face of the squib that had been punished for something that couldn't be helped. It wasn't his fault that, despite him being a pure-blood, he was born exempt of a magical aurous.

Even now years later, Severus still felt extremely guilty. But he knew there was nothing to be done. It was the past, and, because he had stayed in Voldemort's inner circle, he had gained many helpful pieces of information of the Lords movements.

On the day of his 18th birthday he had received the mark. It was the worst moment of his life. Later on that day, he witnessed the murder of his father. Apparently he had done an unsatisfactory job on one task he'd been assigned and his punishment was of course, death.

Snape shuddered every time he thought of that one particular memory. It wasn't too much later that his mother met the same fate, for a much similar crime. But for now Severus had already been thinking too much.

He took a deep breath and resumed what he'd been doing; casting a reassurance charm on Harry. It wasn't one that had particularly noticeable results, as he had intended for, but he knew it would help calm the dark thoughts that must have been running through his mind. Severus had stumbled upon it in one of his ancient books while he'd been reading one day. It had been used in the past on those who had particularly hard decisions to make, and would urge them to chose the right choice for themselves. For a while it had been considered to be of dark magic, but that thought had been dismissed when it was realised that its effects were never anything of much significance.

So Severus thought Harry could do with a little push in the right direction, as he had come so close to actually being completely lost for good.

Severus would sit by Harry's bed in the later evenings, knowing that nobody would be down at this time of night. He had made an arrangement with Poppy, who he had told that he'd be casting certain charms on Harry to help his recovery, and she agreed to leave him there alone.

Tonight though, Harry seemed particularly disturbed in his sleep. He shouldn't have been dreaming, because the dreamless sleep Potion would have taken care of that. So Snape set on casting his charm, and watched as he visibly calmed. Closing his eyes and concentrating then re-opening his eyes, Snape hardly realised he had taken a hold of Harry's hand.

He sat there in almost silence, barely even sounding the words past his lips.

Earlier he had thought he had heard a noise, but dismissed it as his nerves just playing up on him.

A sudden jolt by Harry snapped Severus to attention. He focused his eyes in time to see Harry's shoot open and began scanning the room, as if in search of something. Then his eyes settled on him. Snape froze in horror when he realised he was still holding his hand, and tried to remove it only to find Harry's grip holding him in place.

"I see you're back in the.. Oof!" The breath was almost knocked out of him as Harry threw himself around him, squashing their linked hands between them and wrapping his injured arm around his neck. Severus tensed up. He didn't know what to do. This was the last thing he expected Harry to do, and he was beyond shocked. Realising that Harry wasn't going to budge anytime soon, he wrapped his other arm around Harry's shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting manner- Severus wasn't sure.

They stayed like that for many minutes, and Snape had thought that maybe Harry wasn't even awake. But then he spoke.

"It was your voice, wasn't it?" Came the small, sleep hazed voice.

Snape felt himself nod.

"I didn't want it to stop... it was.. it was.. " Snape felt him shaking, and his breathing increasing.

"It's okay, Mr. Potter." He tried to pull away. "I think you should go back to sleep now, it's late."

"No!" Harry cried, looking almost frantic. "Just talk to me... Please..." He buried his face in Snape's neck, and Snape himself began to panic, only a little though.

"I really do think that you should go back to sleep..."

"Only if you stay and talk to me... I heard you, you know. I know you were here, talking to me... what were you saying?" Snape felt a pang of embarrassment. Never in his life had he ever pictured something like this happening... Harry Potter actually wanted him to stay and talk to him. He felt not only confusion, but also something else he just couldn't describe. It was almost as if he liked the thought of Harry wanting him to be there...

"I was saying an incantation." Snape whispered back, admittedly a little scared by his last thought.

"Hmm... say it again?" Snape felt and saw Harry changing position, although not letting him go, so that now he was sitting on the bed, his legs dangling down the side and facing Snape completely.

Snape scolded himself when he felt the heat rise lightly in his cheeks at the sight of Harry's pale thighs that seemed to glow in the diminished light. He was wearing a pair of small black boxer shorts and a Muggle-like hospital gown. Snape was thankful he was wearing the boxer shorts (most patients were to just wear the gown) other wise he might have been able to see more than he desired to.

Swallowing, Snape found his voice. "Only if you get back into bed. Not only should you be asleep, but it's cold in here."

"'K" Harry mumbled before letting go and crawling back into bed. It took Snape all he had to not look at his body when he was on all fours. "Will you say it now?"

Snape nodded and began the incantation. Because he had to keep his eyes open and trained on the subject, he noted all of Harry's reactions. First he seemed tense, but now he was visibly relaxing. Snape's voice faltered when he saw the smile on Harry's face.

I guess it does work. He thought idly to himself. After about half an hour, and Snape thought that Harry had fallen asleep he stopped chanting. Immediately Harry's eyes shot open.

"No!" And he sat up, consequently leaning on his injured arm and hissing in pain. "No! Don't leave! Ow..."

If Snape was shocked before, that was nothing compared to what he was feeling now. Having never been in a situation like this before, he didn't know how to react. "Ok, I'll stay a little while longer. But after that I have to go. I may not have classes to teach tomorrow, but that doesn't mean I'm willing to deprive myself of sleep because of a prat like you."

Snape was surprised again to see the amused smile on Harry's face. "Ok."

So once again he set to his incantations. Twice again he tried to leave, but was held back every time. Snape just didn't have the heart to say no.

While his eyes were still closed, Severus Snape was awoken by a growing ache in his back. He frowned when he realised he must have fallen asleep on his desk, although it did seem just a little too high and soft.

He cracked open an eye and saw only white. He sat up and realised that a hand had been woven into his hair, and cringed when his hair was pulled. Snape remembered where he was. He was still in the infirmary, and had consequently fallen asleep in his chair beside Harry's bed. Thankfully he was still asleep.

A noise from behind altered him. It was Madame Pomfrey.

"Severus!" She exclaimed, obviously getting a fright. Snape held his finger up to his lip and gestured for her to be quiet, and he raised himself painfully from his chair and led her out the door.

"Severus, what are you still doing here?"

"Listen, I think there may be something wrong with him..." He saw the sarcastic yet skeptical look on her round face. "And no, this has nothing to do with any feelings of dislike I may harbour for the boy. That's beyond the point. He wouldn't let me leave."

"Since when do you do anything that a student says? Especially one you are renowned to pay especially ill attention towards? Don't tell me that just because he told you not to leave you couldn't?" There was the skepticism again.

"No, Poppy, you don't understand..." A noise from Harry's private room interrupted them. Without another word, they both entered to find Harry thrashing around on the bed. He looked as if he was having a painful nightmare, and Severus couldn't help but worry for him.

Pomfrey rushed over to him and cast a calming charm, but it had nil affect. She frowned, and tried again. But still nothing happened. She decided to try and wake him.

"Harry dear, Harry can you hear me?" She said in a caring tone, brushing the hair back off his damp forehead. But he was unresponsive. "Severus, come here a moment and watch him. I need to get a few things from the storeroom. It almost looks as if he's having a seizure of some sort. I'm afraid he might start convulsing."

He nodded and walked over.

Pomfrey conjured up a cool face cloth. "Hold this on his forehead."

Snape took it and placed it on his forehead, immediately on contact Harry stilled. "Poppy, look at this."

She turned back to find Harry lying peacefully on his bed, a faint hint of a smile on his face. "It seems you have the magic touch there Severus." She replied, a little confused. "Take it off him for a moment will you?"

Snape complied. They both raised their eyebrows as he once again began his thrashing. He put the cloth back on his face and Harry calmed again. "Strange..." He muttered.

"Here, let me try." Snape stayed where he was until Poppy's hand replaced his. Again, as if on cue, Harry's features contorted in what appeared to be pain. "Severus, did you say you gave him the last of his potion?" He nodded. "Well, I don't see how this is possible... Say, you don't have a stronger one do you?" Snape nodded again.

"Shall I go get some?"

"Yes, I think that may be the only way, aside from you staying here all day and night, that Harry gets any rest at all."

Snape hurriedly left the hospital wing. He returned not too much later to find a really concerned Pomfrey. "Never in my life, " she started, "have I seen such a reaction. There is just no plausible reason for his... Severus, you know I must ask you this, but what did you do to him?"

Snape hadn't really thought that the casting of his charm might have had something to do with this. He administered the Potion to Harry, who calmed and allowed him to do it at his touch, and then turned back to Pomfrey.

"The only thing I did was cast a reassurance charm on him, you know, " he lowered his voice, "to reassure him that there are people here who would care if he were to succeed in doing what he had intended. And I thought, considering my track record with him, that it might have more of an affect if it were I who cast it. Not that anyone else suggested it that is."

Pomfrey nodded in understanding; after all it was a very thoughtful thing to do. And even she thought it to be beyond the Potions master to do something of the sort. "And where did you find this charm?"

"I was going through a few of my books and I discovered it. I admit it was and old one, but I read all there was to read on it and it seemed harmless. All the known effects of it were very subtle, I made sure of that."

"Can I see this book? Oh and I trust you ran it by Dumbledore did you not?" She asked.

Snape frowned. "No I didn't. I personally didn't see anything wrong with it, so I thought I needn't disturb the headmaster with such a trivial question."

"Yes well, it may not be so pointless if it has something to do with the boys current situation. Stay with him, I'm going to fetch Albus."

Albus Dumbledore had accompanied Poppy Pomfrey back down to the infirmary ward. Snape had been waiting, sitting beside Harry holding his hand. He had a sour look on his face to show that he wasn't happy about it one bit. Although on the inside he was different, he was more concerned about Harry than the fact he had to hold his hand in front of people.

"Please, show me what happens Severus." Snape pried his hand away from Harry's and took a step back. Immediately his hands reached out, searching for Snape and he began squirming round again. Dumbledore frowned. "I see what you mean." He moved forward and attempted to take Harry's hand, but the boy battered him away. "Show me what he does when you try Poppy."

Pomfrey got much the same reaction as Dumbledore had.

"Take his hand, Severus." Snape complied and Harry calmed again. Dumbledore conjured up a chair and sat down with a sigh. "Poppy tells me you used a reassurance charm on him?"

"Yes, I did Albus, and I assure you it was perfectly safe. Here, I have the book with me." Poppy gave him a funny look. "Well, it mustn't have hit anyone on the way up because you don't have any head trauma patients do you? Anyway, this is the one I used." The book flipped open to the right page by it's self, as if a sudden wind had flared up out of nowhere.

"Hmm… I don't seem to recognise this one Severus. Had you been aware of it prior to seeing it in this book?"

Snape shook his head.

"I trust you didn't make any mistakes, that's not what would have happened. I think we should do some research. I'll go ask Filius what he thinks, but for the time being I think it's best you stay with Mr. Potter, Severus. I can arrange for Harry to be moved to your rooms if you would be more comfortable?"

"What! Albus, I have more important things to do than to baby-sit!"

"Severus, you must realise the situation... if there was any other way then we would use it, but you yourself have seen what happens when you leave his side. Would you prefer maybe an unused teachers quarters?"

Snape grumbled a few obscenities under his breath. "No, my rooms will be fine. Although I will not permit him to sleep in my bed. I will not be subjected to sleeping on the couch."

"Of course not. I will transport a student's bed down there. I'm sure we can make some space." His eyes twinkled mischievously.

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