TITLE: Harry Potter and the Obligatory Sequel, Chapter Twenty-Three
RATING: PG-13
DISCLAIMER: Belongs to J.K. Rowling.
BETA: The Incredible Irisgirl12000, and all further mistakes are mine.
SUMMARY: Severus fights for Harry, Harry fights for Severus, and if they can survive the Dementors, they can survive anything.

Chapter Twenty-Three: Where the Deer and the Dementors Play

Dimly, Severus heard Granger and Malfoy screaming at each other, and woke up enough to look over at them. Odd, but he couldn't remember when he'd started "spacing out." He supposed he must be going into shock. Judging by the look on Longbottom's face, the boy was well on his way to doing the same. Blaise was the only one doing anything useful; he kept casting warming charms on the Headmaster. The young Weasley girl was a sniffling, snivelling wreck, curled up in a ball nearby, while the boy sat beside Harry, his face blank.

"Stop yelling," Severus managed to croak, and both Granger and Malfoy stopped screeching long enough to look over at him. He realized he was covered by Malfoy's cloak, and had been lain out on the grass like he was part of a body count. "I'm not dead yet," he added, sulkily.

"We were trying to keep you warm," Granger told him. "You were going into shock, and they keep coming back."

Severus blinked, and noticed that beyond their group a mass of Dementors hovered, swirling above the lake and forest trees. "I've been using your potion on them, but I only have one left," Malfoy said. "I believe one of us should use it and run for help."

"That's ridiculous. You can't leave us behind," Hermione argued. "And neither Snape nor Harry would survive being hauled through the forest, willy-nilly, at any decent speed—and Merlin knows what that would do to Dumbledore."

"Do you have a better plan?"

"He's right," Severus said. "Only you need to go, as well. Blaise, too, and Longbottom, if you can impress upon his feeble mind the need to run."

"But—but what about you, Professor? What about all of you?"

"Winning wars means cutting losses. Besides, you're only a distraction to me right now. I can hold off the Dementors, but I don't need to be worrying about needless loss of healthy lives whilst doing so. Go, child."

Hermione's face hardened. "I'm not leaving Ron, and I'm not leaving Harry."

"Stupefy," Malfoy said tiredly, and she fell forward. He then levitated her, ignoring Ron's howls of protest. "Do you want her to die? Do you want her kissed by them instead of yourself? I'll get her back to Hogwarts," the man informed him. "Now be quiet." He looked toward Severus. "Are you ready?"

Snape took several deep breaths before getting to his feet. It took him a while to steady himself, to mentally prepare for the task at hand. By the time he opened his eyes, Blaise had convinced Ginny to get to her feet and join them, and Neville was looking somewhat more lucid. Harry's nose trickled blood into the grass, and Ron was watching him, his face crumpled in an expression that told Severus he was trying very hard not to cry. "Boy," Snape called out hoarsely. "My left pocket." But Ron couldn't walk, so it was Blaise that came to him and retrieved the blood replenisher and administered it to Harry. It wasn't much, but might buy him another quarter of an hour.

Malfoy was looking down at a body with a strange, twisted smile on his face. "What is it?" Severus asked, but the man shook his head. "Are we ready yet?"

"If you are," Lucius finally said, straightening.

Severus nodded. "Go."

Lucius hurled the last bottle of Blustering Brew at the Dementors, hauling Hermione along behind him as he ran flat out. Blaise, Ginny and Neville followed at his heels, quickly disappearing into the forest.

"Guess it's just us, huh, Professor?" the Weasley boy asked. He sounded weary and frightened, and Snape tried to arrange his face into a pleasant expression, however little it suited him.

"Everything will be fine, I promise," he lied. He made his way over to the boy, who was trying to keep Harry's head elevated. "Take care of him, and let me worry about everything else," Snape advised.

Ron shook his head. "I think I'll go on worrying about everything, if it's all the same to you," he replied.

Even with Granger's and Malfoy's cloaks still tangled about his shoulders, Severus could feel the icy wind beginning to bite through. Now, atop the Dementors quickly closing in, the snow began to fall, drifting lazily down in spirals, obscuring Snape's vision. Somewhere, Severus's own mother was sobbing, and Ron had hugged his arms tightly around himself, muttering his sister's name. Severus' unsettled thoughts flitted back to the past, visiting a hundred shames and agonies. Clenching his teeth, he forcibly turned to face the present, tilting his head up and gazing out at the encroaching Dementors.

Snape closed his eyes and thought about Harry. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

OoOoOoOoO

Harry was so cold he could feel his teeth rattling, and there was a hand—a chilly hand—on the back of his neck. He shrugged it off with a wince, looking up at Ron, who mumbled an insincere apology.

"What's going on?"

"Shhh! He has to concentrate!"

Harry tried to sit up. He felt sort of wobbly, but the blood replenishing potion had helped. "Who has to concentrate?" He looked around, his mouth opening wide. "Oh. Oh my God. Is that—is that—?"

"Snape," Ron informed him, awe dripping from his voice. "He did a Patronus."

"He said he couldn't."

"Must've lied, then." A slender, glowing form waved a sword made of light at the dark creatures, and they fell back before gliding slowly forward again.

Both students stared for awhile, marvelling, before Harry shook his head. "It's a person. Snape's Patronus is a person."

"Yeah. Looks like a knight or something. Naw, too small," Ron corrected himself. "You know, I reckon it's a kid. I thought they were supposed to be animals. Who is it?"

Harry's eyes softened as he watched. "It's not a kid, exactly," he said, offended. "Just because it got locked in a cupboard and didn't do enough growing when it should…"

Ron took another look. "You're taking the piss! No way!" He started to laugh. "It's you, Harry, it really is—just look at its hair!" The silhouette jabbed at a Dementor that had gotten too close, and forced it back again.

"This can't go on much longer," Harry said. "Snape's got to be getting tired."

"Yeah," Ron said, casting another warming charm on Dumbledore. Harry gaped as he noticed the unconscious man.

"Wha—where—how?"

"You didn't notice? Malfoy and Zabini pulled him out of the lake."

"Oh." Harry frowned, thinking. Three of the people he cared about most were here, in terrible danger. He couldn't allow them to be hurt, even if he was in pain. "I have to help Severus," he said.

"Harry," Ron moaned. "You can't. You're still bleeding."

"Not as bad as I was," Harry said, trying to sound more confident and dismissive than he felt. "I'll be fine." He tried to stand, but his vision went sort of dark around the edges, and he had to sit down again.

"Not a great idea," Ron pointed out.

Harry glared at him. "I'll crawl, then." He got to his hands and knees and made his way toward Snape, leaving Ron to take care of the Headmaster.

OoOoOoOoO

Severus was feeling more fatigued by the moment. It seemed like a huge effort even to keep his arm raised—his wand felt like it was made of lead. The world felt swimmy and unreal, and the man was having a hard time focussing.

I really did try, Harry, he thought. If it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have lasted this long. I'm sorry.

Just as his Patronus began to waver and flicker, it was suddenly replaced by a smaller, shabbier, and rather more bloody version of Harry Potter. "Hey," the boy said tiredly, reaching out a hand. Snape blinked down at him. "Help me up, would you?"

Flinching, Snape allowed the boy to grab his arm, lifting him to his feet. "What's a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?" the man asked hoarsely.

Harry managed a weak smile. "Oh, you know. Went out looking for a bit of a thrill and got more than I bargained for. I always attract the weirdos and ghouls. You?"

Snape sighed. "I thought I'd try my hand at outdoor cooking. Blast—there goes the Patronus. Any more tricks up your sleeve?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Expecto Patronum!" The ghostly buck leapt from the end of his wand, charging toward the Dementors and scattering them. The youth smiled a little, his eyes half-shut. "You're a good kisser," he reminisced.

Snape retrieved a vial of healing potion from an inner pocket and took a sip before offering it to Harry. "Go on—down the hatch. Tastes of chicken," he said encouragingly. Harry chuckled and Snape leaned down, kissing him soundly. The man trailed a series of feathery kisses over the boy's face. "And you taste of anise," he murmured.

Ever so slowly, the Patronus began to dim. Harry looked down at his wand, then up again, his face so worn and vulnerable that Snape's heart ached. "If one gets close enough, I could kick it in the shin," he offered.

"Ah. Well… I've never seen a Dementor's shin before, but I'm sure if anyone could manage it, it would be you," Severus responded, his voice strained. He couldn't tell if it was just his imagination, or if Harry seemed to be leaning more heavily on his arm.

"Or I could poke it in the eye," Harry mumbled. He was definitely putting more weight on Snape. The Potions Master's own world seemed to be slanting just a bit, as well.

"Chilly out tonight," Snape whispered.

They fell into darkness.

OoOoOoOoO

Harry woke on crisp, cool sheets. He looked to his left and saw Ron in the next bed, Hermione seated beside him, tenderly stroking his red hair with the back of her hand. She seemed to be almost dozing, her eyes shut, her hand moving rhythmically and without thought. Harry smiled, then turned his head. On his right was Snape, wearing clean new white pyjamas, making him look even older and more damaged than he probably really was.

He was breathing deeply, and his face was peaceful, so Harry didn't worry over him too much. He sat up on one elbow, and saw that there was a special bed made up for the Headmaster, and another figure in a bed across from the door. Harry couldn't see who it was, but the important people were all accounted for, and he nestled down in his bed again, satisfied.

The next time he opened his eyes, Snape was sitting up in his bed, eating toast, and Ron had gone. "Any sardines?" Harry asked with a smile.

Snape wrinkled his nose. "No. Any brain cells?" he asked.

Harry sobered. "I can see you're your usual snippy self. Yeah, I did something stupid—you're right—and I'm sorry. I never thought… I never thought Ginny, of all people…" He trailed off, swallowing hard. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I put you in danger."

"You put yourself in danger, which is a far more unforgivable act," Snape replied, looking uncomfortable. He looked down at his hands. "But you saved Albus, it seems, and the world ought to be grateful for that. Besides," he added bitterly, "after you'd gotten into trouble, my own actions in response were rash at best."

Harry studied the man for a long moment. He looked truly miserable. "Do you regret killing Bellatrix?" he asked curiously.

Snape's lip curled contemptuously. "She would have killed me, had she the opportunity, so I don't regret her death. I do regret her suffering," he added quietly, after pondering it some moments. "But mostly out of a selfish fear of disgusting you."

Harry looked out the bright window of the hospital wing, the winter sunlight warm across his face. "I'm not disgusted," he said eventually. "I'm a little sad, even though I know that might seem strange, considering she killed Sirius. Except I'm not sad for her, really—I'm sad that you had to do that. I'm sad that I put you in that position."

"You didn't," Snape said sharply.

"I did. I wanted to keep you from getting into a bad situation—"

"So you chose to get in one yourself. How very—how very you," was all Snape could say.

"I really am sorry," Harry repeated.

"Well, it wasn't all a waste," Severus allowed. "Aside from my assassination of Bella, your friend Longbottom also managed to land himself a Death Eater—though he didn't kill this one, thank Merlin."

Harry goggled. "Really? Neville did?"

"You sound almost as surprised as he was by the news. I nearly awarded him House points, but decided not to risk sending him into cardiac arrest and let Professor McGonagall have the honour, instead."

"Who is it?" Harry demanded.

Snape nodded at one of the beds. "Look for yourself. Poor bastard's still got the body-bind on him—I've the feeling it's going to be the work of a demented genius to get it off."

Harry carefully got out of his bed and padded over to the figure's, peeling the bedclothes back enough to get a good look at the man's face. "It's Pettigrew!" he cried.

"Very good, Holmes," Snape retorted. Harry glanced at him. "I'm allowed to read campy Muggle literature too, you know. Don't," he warned when Harry looked round for his wand. "I know what you're thinking, and I can't say I blame you, but killing a man in cold blood isn't the thing to do."

"But he already got away once!"

"If you want it done, I insist on being the one to do it."

Harry halted his frantic search for his wand. "What?"

"I won't let you dirty your hands. If you absolutely must see him die, then I'll do it."

Harry stared at him. The fight seemed to go out of his slender frame. "You know I don't want that."

"Then come back to bed." Snape opened his arms.

Harry shot the rat one last, lingering resentful look before sighing and turning away. "All right," he agreed, and clambered up beside Snape. He had questions he wanted answers to, and there were things that needed doing, but right now, Severus had his arms wrapped around Harry's shoulders, warm and snug, and that was all that really mattered.

OoOoOoOoO

"He's… he's waking up!"

"For heaven's sake, the poor man has been through enough. The last thing he needs is to see your daft cow-eyed expression of worry the moment he wakes up."

"Hey!" Harry objected, elbowing Severus in the ribs.

The Headmaster managed a smile. "Do my ears deceive me, or are those the dulcet tones of an angelic choir?"

"I told you if you didn't stop bickering I'd have you moved," Madam Pomfrey scolded. "I apologise if they've disturbed you, Headmaster."

"Not at all, Poppy. It's very reassuring to know that, however off its axis the world may be, no catastrophe can keep Harry Potter and Severus Snape from attempting to bite one another's heads off."

"You gave us quite a scare," Severus informed the man, after Madam Pomfrey had propped him up on another couple of pillows.

"I'm very sorry for that. One of my students was in grave danger, and needed my help immediately."

"You—d'you mean Ginny?" Harry blurted.

"Yes. I'm sorry I could not divulge the truth about Miss Weasley to either of you."

"She's all right," Harry replied, avoiding the issue. "But she nearly got both of all of us killed, and…" he swallowed, trailing off.

Albus smiled. "And you don't feel that my disappearance did her any good at all?"

"Er…"

"Tom knew, as I did, that you would risk anything to rescue me. I knew, as Tom did not, that your faith in your friends would be borne out."

"But it wasn't! She tried to kill me!"

The Headmaster shook his head. "Harry, if Ginny really was the heartless, foolish creature Tom thought she was, do you really think you'd have lived to tell the tale? You accepted the potion she made for you, didn't you?"

"Yes. And I bled because of it—I thought I was going to bleed to death!"

"But you didn't. You should have, but you're still very much alive. If I'm not mistaken, Miss Weasley had a long look at the ingredients of the potion and made a few last moment modifications."

"I left out the nettles."

The three men looked up. Ginny stood in the doorway, looking haggard and small. "I knew—I knew nettles couldn't be right. They said it was a love potion. They said all I had to do was give it to him—and he'd love me—and I'd tell him not to fight anymore—only—only I wasn't really going to tell him that, I swear…"

"Stupid girl—how could you fail to see the difference between a love potion and a poison?" Snape demanded.

She shrugged. "I didn't want to see. But the nettles… I remembered about the nettles, Professor. You said never to use more than a pinch. You said it didn't matter what we were brewing; a pinch should always suffice. You said nettles were toxic. I couldn't—I didn't put them in." She looked down. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I really thought that if I just had a chance—just a chance—"

"I understand," Harry replied. "But I don't reckon I could ever trust you again."

"I know."

"Do you still have the book?" Snape asked.

"Of potions? Yes. I don't think any of the other potions are harmful, though. They had me steal it long enough to put an extra recipe in—one they thought Harry would remember later when he needed to find someone…"

"Then you were the one who stole it from Remus!"

"Yes."

Harry blinked. "But the other potions were all right?"

"As far as I know," she replied with a shrug.

"We ought to burn the lot, just in case."

"Burning books is never a solution," Dumbledore chided Snape.

"Yeah… besides, you never know when they might contain something useful," Harry added, his eyes gleaming.

"Oh, lord. I take it disaster-prone Potter has another infallible plan?"

"Hey, sometimes I have good ideas," Harry protested. "Once in a while. I usually come out all right, anyhow."

"A more glowing endorsement of one's own abilities I've seldom heard," Snape replied dryly. "What outlandish idea has taken root in your head this time?"

Harry stared down at Pettigrew. "It's not outlandish. It's a little crazy, but I think it just might work." He turned to smile at Severus. "So long as I have a little help, anyway."

Severus groaned.