Author's Note:

Thank you for all of the amazing comments and feedback! I didn't want to make you wait too long, so here it is, your next chapter.

*WARNING*: There is discussion of medical procedures- it's nothing graphic, but if this is triggering for you, please approach with caution. There is also talk of trauma and PTSD. As someone who has experienced this, I've tried to approach it with care and compassion, but I understand this can also be difficult for some people.

Finally, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to Mandancie (who has been one of my most ardent supporters from the beginning) as a belated birthday present.

This also goes out to all of my fellow healthcare workers (including all of our amazing mental health care workers) all over the world. Lots of love and respect, these are difficult times. Thanks for what you do!

ENJOY!

Snape was silent in the police car as his mind played back the last 24-hours. He was drowning in regrets, second guessing every single decision he'd made that had gotten them to this place. He wondered if he should have apparated them out of the cave to St. Mungo's as soon as he'd found him. But no, the search team would have spent days looking for them in the caves, risking more innocent lives. There was nothing he could do now. Harry would have to be treated, or at least stabilized in the muggle hospital until he could figure out what to do next. He just prayed Harry would survive.

The 40 minute drive to the hospital felt like an eternity alone with his thoughts. When they finally pulled up in the ambulance bay at the A&E, Snape jumped out and raced to Harry's side and as they wheeled his gurney inside. When he looked at the boy's face he saw the tube in his mouth and panicked. "Is he OK? What's going on?"

The paramedics were in a rush and as soon as they got inside, they wheeled Harry quickly back to the trauma bay and pulled the curtain around behind them as doctors, nurses, and respiratory therapists gathered around Harry's bed and began shouting orders. A nurse pulled Snape away to update him and ask him some questions.

"I need to be with my son!" Snape shouted. Seeing Harry again had brought all of his emotions back to the forefront. For a man who was always so composed, Snape was quickly losing all control.

The nurse put her hand on his shoulder. "We'll let you see him when we've stabilized him. Your son is very sick right now, sir. You need to let the nurses and doctors do their job. He stopped breathing on the way here, and then he went into cardiac arrest. They were able to restart his heart, but he had CPR for ten minutes before it started beating again."

Snape crumpled onto his knees and put his face in his hands, sobbing audibly into them.

Over the next hour they worked hard to get Harry stabilized. They warmed him slowly with fluids and blankets, and once his heart was stable, they let Snape back to sit with him. Snape sat in a daze, completely emotionally drained and hypnotized by the rhythmic sounds of Harry's ventilator and the beeping of the monitors behind him. He took the boy's cold hand in his own and pressed it, first to his lips, then to his eyes, and finally to his chest, where he just held it against his own beating heart. He didn't know who he was praying to, but he prayed desperately that Harry would live.

Several hours later, they moved Harry to a bed in the ICU, Snape refusing to let go of his hand as they wheeled his bed down the hall. Once he was settled in a room, Snape sat in a chair beside him, all night, holding onto his hand and stroking his hair and face tenderly. Despite the frequent visits from nurses and doctors, just before daybreak, Snape eventually fell asleep, Harry's hand still firmly clasped inside his own.

Hours went by and the sun began streaming brightly into the room. Snape jolted awake when he felt Harry move. He looked up and saw the boy's eyes fluttering. Harry's right arm reached up, fingers grasping wildly at his breathing tube. Snape gently grabbed his hand away and held it to the bed. "No, Harry. Don't touch that. You're in the hospital. You have a tube in your mouth to help you breathe, but everything is going to be fine. You're safe and I'm right here."

Suddenly, an alarm went off on one of the machines. Snape stood up, snapped his head around to look for the offending monitor, unsure of what to do. He pushed the call button to alert a nurse. "Come quickly!"

A few seconds later, several nurses came in followed by one of the ICU doctors.

"What's going on, why is the machine going off?" Snape demanded, emotion evident in his voice. After learning that Harry's heart had stopped in the ambulance, he was terrified it would happen again. His own pulse was racing from the adrenaline set off by the alarm.

"Mr. Prince, I think your son is starting to wake up," the doctor said as she pressed a button to silence the machine. "We've turned down the sedation so we can hopefully take the breathing tube out. The alarm went off because his heart rate jumped up, he likely panicked when he woke up and felt the tube in his throat. It's a stress reaction, and it's very common."

Snape stood back as the doctor ran through a series of commands to make sure Harry was conscious enough to come off the machine. Although he was weak, he attempted to open his eyes and squeeze her fingers on command, and she was convinced he was ready. The doctor turned back to Snape, "Since he's stable and breathing over the ventilator, we're going to go ahead and try to take the tube out. You might want to step out for a minute, Mr. Prince, it can be kind of distressing for family to watch."

One of the young trainee nurses put her hand on Snape's arm and attempted to guide him out of the room.

Snape wrenched his arm away with a sneer. "What are you doing, you silly girl. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not some squeamish teenager, I'm staying with my son."

The doctor let out a deep sigh. "Very well, Mr. Prince. Just let us set-up and then you can sit by the foot of the bed if you like, but we can't have you near his face while we're doing this. And if at any point I ask you to leave, I will need you to respect that. Do you understand?"

Snape nodded and stood back against the far wall, allowing the team to get everything ready. He looked on with curiosity at the cart of bizarre medical tools they'd brought in. These muggle healers are so barbaric. "Will this hurt him?"

"It shouldn't be painful, but it can be uncomfortable for a few seconds, and it may be a little frightening. We'll give Harry a tiny bit of medicine for anxiety and then I'll talk him through it."

Dr. Khan looked at Snape with deep compassion. She was easily his favorite of all of Harry's doctors. She was always thoughtful and polite, but he could tell she was extremely smart and competent, and she knew how to direct her team without being too brash or too weak. Yes, for a muggle doctor she was quite excellent.

A few minutes later, Snape watched with horror and fascination as they removed Harry's breathing tube. Even though the doctor had prepared him, he cringed as Harry coughed and choked and tears streamed down his face. When Harry grimaced in what looked like pain, Snape just rubbed his feet and legs gently and continued to speak calming and reassuring words.

As soon as they were sure he was breathing well on his own, everyone left the room and the eerie silence returned. Snape moved his chair back to the head of the bed and continued to rub calming circles on the boy's chest while he spoke softly to him. He wasn't sure if Harry was hearing him, or if he'd remember any of it, but he wanted to make sure the boy knew in that moment that he wasn't alone.

A few minutes later, Harry opened his eyes and just blinked, too weak to do much else. He tried to move his mouth but no sound came out. After a few failed attempts, he finally closed his eyes and tears rolled down his face. Snape wiped them away gently with a soft flannel, careful not to dislodge the nasal oxygen cannula that ran across his face. He shushed him gently, "Don't try to speak right now, Harry. Just rest, I'm right here, I'm not going to leave you. You're safe now, I promise."

Snape reached up and smoothed his hand across Harry's hair, soothing him gently back to sleep. Before he even realized what happened, Snape had fallen asleep as well, his head resting beside Harry's face on the bed.

Snape woke up suddenly when he heard Harry trying to speak. He lifted his head up and Harry's eyes were still closed but he was moving his mouth, attempting to say something. Snape stood up and put his ear next to Harry's mouth.

Harry's voice was hoarse and barely a whisper, but Snape heard him clearly. "Dad...dad." The boy's face contorted as though he were having a nightmare, his eyes stayed shut but he moved fitfully. "Daddy!" The last word came out like a desperate cry for help, filled with torment as more tears poured from Harry's eyes.

Snape felt distressed watching him. He didn't know what to do, his instinct was to lift him up and hold him but there were too many wires and tubes and he didn't want to do anything that might hurt the boy. He smoothed his hand across his forehead and whispered. "I'm right here, Harry. You're safe. I'm right here."

Harry slept fitfully over the next 24 hours, waking up briefly for a few minutes at a time, but still not entirely lucid. Snape never left his side, keeping watch over him like a lioness over her cub. He tried not to be too rude to the staff, but with all of the stress and lack of sleep, he became quite tetchy with the nurses when they would come in and disturb Harry to draw blood or listen to his lungs.

"Don't jerk him around so much when you move him," Snape barked at a nursing tech who was trying to reposition Harry so they could clean him up a bit. "For God's sake, he's a child not a rag doll. Let me do it."

Snape moved around to the other side of the bed and gently rolled Harry onto his side, cradling his head with one hand and holding his shoulder with the other so the young man could wipe the sweat off Harry's back and put clean linens under him. When he was done, Snape gently rolled him down again, smoothing his bedsheets on top of him.

"Also, his lips are extremely dry. He requires some kind of lip balm. And these socks are way too thin, his feet are always cold, don't you have anything thicker? He was admitted for hypothermia, after all, one would think it might be prudent to keep him warm," Snape spat, unable to contain his frustration.

"I'll look and see what I can find, Mr. Prince," the young man said, sounding somewhat stressed. He was pretty new in his job and trying his best and he was definitely a little intimidated by the man.

Realizing he might have sounded a little too harsh, Snape softened his tone a bit. "Thank you, Angelo, I'd appreciate that."

Snape fussed, and at times grated on the ICU staff, but they could all see how much he clearly loved the boy. They talked amongst themselves about what an incredibly devoted parent he was. He asked insightful questions and wanted to know exactly what tests were being run, what meds he was being given, what vital signs they were monitoring. And he never, ever left the boy's side.

On the third day, Harry began to wake up for longer periods of time, motioning for Snape to give him water. Snape adjusted the head of his bed and patiently brought the straw to his lips, helping him sit up slightly, with one hand braced behind Harry's neck, all while encouraging him like one might an infant. "Small sips, Harry. That's a good boy." When some of the water spilled out, Snape was right there with a cloth, gently wiping his mouth and chin.

When his nurse finally found some petroleum jelly, Snape coated Harry's lips and the skin around his nose every few hours, not wanting it to crack and bleed from the oxygen that was clearly drying him out.

Little by little, Harry began to move around and interact more frequently. He was weak, but the life was starting to come back to his eyes. During the day he was visited by a barrage of specialists. Pediatricians, neurologists, cardiologists, pulmonologists, and even respiratory and physical therapists. Snape had no idea there were this many kinds of doctors, but he was glad the boy was being well-looked after. He'd never had a particularly positive opinion about muggle doctors, believing their techniques to be inferior and medieval, but he had to admit, the majority of them had been smart and dedicated. Although he hoped they'd never have to step foot in a muggle hospital again for the rest of their lives, he would always be eternally grateful to the wonderful healthcare workers of the NHS who had saved Harry's life.

Later that afternoon, after Snape helped him take a sip of apple juice, Harry tried to speak again. His voice was still hoarse and weak from the breathing tube when he eked out a raspy "I'm sorry," his eyes filling immediately with tears.

Snape set the cup of juice down and picked up a cloth. He wiped the boy's tears and the juice that dribbled down his chin. "Shhh, don't get upset, Harry. It's alright, I'm not angry with you, I just want you to get better. Everything is going to be fine, I promise." He dabbed at the tears that were still running down his face.

Harry nodded his head. "Snape?"

"I'm here, Harry. But it's dad, remember," Snape whispered in his ear.

Harry tried to speak again. "Patrick?"

Snape couldn't help it, he scoffed loudly. "That little terror is, regrettably, back home in perfectly fine health. Although I'm still dreaming up elaborate ways to torture him for leaving you in that god forsaken cave. If you ask me, they should lock that monster up until he comes of age. It's a real pity that Britain's gotten rid of all the borstals. I would sleep much better knowing he was forced to spend his days doing hard labor, eating gruel, and being given a few good beatings everyday. Yes, that might actually go a long way in helping me find forgiveness."

A small smile crossed Harry's lips at Snape's melodramatic tirade, he then closed his eyes again and went back to sleep.

Over the next two days, Harry improved in leaps and bounds. He started eating (although Snape had to feed him since he couldn't hold the fork) and Snape even took him for a small walk down the hallway, wheeling his IV pole and keeping a steadying hand around his arms. Harry moved slowly and with an awkward gait, but the nurses cheered him on from their work-stations and Harry smiled despite feeling a bit ridiculous at being walked down the hall like a toddler.

As it turned out, Harry was having difficulty moving his fingers and toes. He also had a lot of numbness in his feet and his arms and legs were weak. The neurologists said he had some temporary nerve damage from the hypothermia, and possibly from the few minutes his heart stopped beating. The physical and occupational therapists came daily and showed Snape how to do some of the exercises so he could help Harry once they got home. Despite their reassurances that it was temporary, Snape was determined to get Harry to a magical healer as quickly as possible.

Every night, Snape slept in the chair by Harry's bed. Although the nurses encouraged him to go home and get a good night of sleep, Snape refused. He noticed Harry was crying out frequently in his sleep, and if the boy was having nightmares, he wanted to be right there to reassure him and soothe him back to sleep. No, there was no way he was leaving Harry there all alone, not after everything he'd been through. Not after he promised he would stay by his side.

Finally, on the sixth day, Harry was deemed well enough to be discharged. He was still suffering from some mild nerve damage in his hands and feet, but the doctors assured Snape it would resolve in a few weeks. In the meantime he would just need assistance doing daily tasks until he was better. Harry was having a lot of difficulty with his grasp and his fine motor skills, so holding onto cups, forks, and toothbrushes had been difficult (and frustrating) for him, but Snape had stepped in and helped him without a second thought.

The nurses helped pack up Harry's things and get him into a wheelchair while Snape went out to find Llewelyn's car, which had been dropped off at the hospital by some kind citizens of Cardigan. After everyone in town heard about what happened to Harry at the caves, random neighbors and fellow residents had sent flowers, balloons, and cards that now decorated Harry's hospital room.

Snape would never admit it, but he was actually quite touched at how the people of this little village had rallied around Harry despite not really knowing either of them. Even Sarah from the bakery had remembered them and sent along a few treats, including Harry's favorite lemon tart.

As Harry was wheeled out the front door of the hospital, several of the nurses stood around, carrying his flowers and balloons and waiting for Snape to pull the car around. They loaded up the little hatchback and each of them gave Harry a big hug.

"Stay well, lad!" "Good-bye, Harry!" "Take care, boyo!" "No more caves, young man!"

Snape nearly rolled his eyes when he saw how Harry was lapping up all of the attention from the staff as they said their good-byes. He had been doted on by everyone at the hospital—including Snape—for nearly a week and the cynical part of him worried that the boy was going to be forever spoiled. Or perhaps that's just what he told himself to try and overcome his own concerns about how permanently changed he'd been from the whole experience.

As soon as they pulled away, Snape looked over at Harry who was reclining back in the seat with his eyes closed, holding a red stuffed dragon wearing a Wales football jersey that someone from town had gifted him. He had lost nearly 3kg over the last week, and he looked so small and weak and vulnerable that Snape couldn't resist the urge to run a soothing hand across his head. "Just rest."

When they got back home, Harry was fast asleep in the car. Snape got out and walked around to open his door and undo the seatbelt. Without thinking, he lifted the boy effortlessly into his arms, and carried him into the house.

Harry stirred awake but didn't say anything, he felt safe and happy in Snape's arms. He closed his eyes and rested his head on his shoulder and waited for the man to put him, and his Welsh dragon, to bed.

After Harry was settled in his room, Snape prepared to floo-call Dumbledore.

He'd surprisingly managed to get a hold of Barclay by telephone the day Harry'd been admitted to hospital (he was one of the few wizards Snape knew that actually had a Muggle phone in both his home and office). He'd explained the whole situation, letting him know he'd have to delay the Apprenticeship ceremony until Harry was fully recovered. Master Barclay agreed it was best just to let the muggle doctors treat Harry for now. He worried about the repercussions of bringing Harry to St. Mungo's before his apprenticeship bond was complete, not to mention it might raise questions from the Ministry about Harry's whereabouts and his safety in Snape's care. The last thing they wanted was the Ministry getting involved when they were so close. As long as Harry was alive and stable, it was best not to blow their cover. They could arrange for magical healers later.

Barclay had alerted Dumbledore about the situation, and by now he was sure they were all desperate to have an update. He imagined it wouldn't be long before people were streaming into the cottage to check on Harry for themselves. He would have to set strict visiting hours, mostly for his own sanity.

Snape kneeled down and threw the floo powder into the flames and then stuck his head through.

"Severus! Oh my dear, dear boy, how are you? How's Harry?" Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, his hands clasped together eagerly.

"We're back at Llewelyn's cottage. Harry's sleeping, he's still extremely weak and he has some nerve damage. They told me it's temporary but I'd like to have Poppy come see him if you could arrange that. I want to make sure we're giving him everything he needs for a full recovery."

"Of course. I'll speak with her and make arrangements straight away."

"Also, I've asked Master Barclay to delay the Apprenticeship ceremony until Harry is fully recovered. I think we will stay here while he recuperates, I don't want to rush things and put unnecessary stress on the boy. As such, I will not be returning to Hogwarts for the rest of term. I hope Slughorn will be capable of continuing, I can send him lesson plans and assist as needed, but I want my full attention to be on Harry's recovery. I hope you understand."

"It's already taken care of, Severus. Harry's health is our first priority. Take as much time as you need, and just let us know if we can do anything. I'll have Poppy reach out. Please give Harry our best wishes. Hopefully we'll be able to arrange a time to see him soon."

"Yes. Once Poppy has cleared him for visitors, I'll let you know. Thank you Albus."

"Don't forget to take care of yourself, Severus, you need your strength to be there for Harry."

"Indeed. Good-bye, Albus," Snape said, pulling his head out of the flame.

"Who were you talking to?" Snape spun his head around when he heard the small voice from behind him. When he saw Harry standing at the entrance of the parlor, he immediately stood up and stared the boy down, crossing his arms slowly over his chest and raising an eyebrow.

"What are you doing out of bed? And what did I tell you about eavesdropping?" Snape forced himself to put on a stern face and tone, although he had no intention of actually scolding the boy.

Harry's face turned red and he dropped his head down. "Sorry."

"Home for less than an hour and already misbehaving." He tutted at Harry patronizingly and shook his head. "How very naughty, Mr. Potter, you should be quite ashamed. Now come along, let's get you back to bed." Snape took a few steps over to Harry and was getting ready to put his hands on his shoulders when Harry attempted to raise his arms.

"Can you carry me? My feet feel numb, it hurts when I walk."

Snape bent down without a second thought, putting his hands under Harry's arms and lifting him with ease. He carried the boy to his room and set him down gently on his bed and one at a time, he took his feet in his hands, and rubbed them gently. "Is there anything else that's bothering you?"

"My ribs hurt," Harry moaned, rubbing his hand across his chest.

The medics had spent 10 minutes doing CPR on him when his heart stopped, and although none of his ribs were broken, they were certainly deeply bruised.

"I also feel really weak," he added.

"Your body's been through a lot, Harry, it will take some time to recover. Madame Pomfrey will come and see you later, and we'll hopefully get you feeling better soon." Snape hadn't told Harry everything yet, he was pretty sure the boy had no idea just how close to death he'd come, and with the trauma of the whole experience, he wasn't about to discuss it with him now.

"Do you want to take a bath? You might feel better. The warm water will feel nice on your feet. I can also add some potions to the water to help relax your muscles and help with the pain." Snape offered.

Harry nodded his head.

"Come along, then." Snape lifted him up and carried him to the bathroom where he set him on top of the toilet lid while he sat on the edge of the tub and turned on the taps. He was reluctant to be more than a few feet away from the boy, but he left him momentarily to fetch some potions he hoped would make him feel better. He dumped a few generic healing potions and calming draughts into the tub and swirled them around with his hand, making sure the water was just the right temperature. He wanted to be careful with Harry's nerve damage, he wasn't sure what that meant for how he could feel hot and cold.

Slowly, he helped Harry get undressed. While Harry might have been mortified by this a week ago, he was currently not bothered at all. During the last week Snape had essentially done everything for the boy, he'd washed him and changed his clothes, spoon fed him like a baby, and even helped him go to the bathroom. Since Snape never made a fuss about it, and Harry had been so unwell, he never really got the chance to feel embarrassed about it. It just felt natural, like any parent taking care of their sick kid.

As Snape lifted off his shirt, he saw the mottled purple bruising on his chest, and he was overwhelmed with emotion imagining just how easily he could have lost the boy. He helped Harry step out of his trousers and pants and then held his arm firmly as he stepped into the warm bath and sat down. Snape pulled out his wand and filled the tub with bubbles. Mostly for Harry's modesty, but also because he hoped it would make him happy.

Harry smiled. "Thanks."

Snape sat at the edge of the tub and washed Harry's hair and gently scrubbed his back. After he'd done that, he left Harry for a few minutes so he could soak for a bit and finish washing on his own. Knowing how fiercely independent Harry liked to be, he imagined it must be difficult for the boy to have to depend so much on him. As such, Snape worked extremely hard to protect Harry's dignity. Harry might be frustrated by needing Snape's help, but he never wanted the boy to feel ashamed or humiliated about it.

When Snape returned fifteen minutes later, he held onto Harry's arms tightly as he climbed out of the tub. He wrapped him in a large fluffy towel and then helped him change into a pair of clean pyjamas.

As he stood behind him in the mirror, running the comb through his wet mop of dark hair, Snape put on a serious face. "You'd better enjoy this royal treatment while you can, Mr. Potter. I assure you I will not be combing your hair and brushing your teeth for you once you're well again." He gave him a pointed look in the mirror, but Harry knew he was teasing him.

"But sir, didn't you know I'm the Boy Who Lived? Again? Twice? I haven't decided how I'd like to be known after this, but surely I can't be expected to do such boring tasks for myself. Speaking of which, I think my lips are a bit dry, can you put some balm on them for me." He pursed his lips together and smirked into the mirror.

Snape gave him a playful smack on the bum. "If you're being this cheeky you must be feeling better. Come along now, your highness, and I'll put some bruise balm on your chest."

Harry laid on his back on his bed while Snape rubbed a healing balm over his ribs. "Turn over." The boy rolled over and Snape did the same thing on his back, unable to see any bruising but unsure if it ached nonetheless. After wiping his hands on the towel, he helped Harry get back into his pyjama top.

"Go on, get under the quilts. I want you to rest now."

A small whine escaped from his lips. "I've been doing nothing but resting, it's boring. Can't you read to me?"

Snape resisted the urge to scold him for whining, but if anyone had a right to complain a little, it was definitely Harry. He just hoped he wasn't setting a bad precedent that would continue long after he was well.

"Very well, but I want you to close your eyes," Snape said as he brought the book from his bookshelf and sat on the bed. He leaned his back up against the headboard and put his feet up so he was stretched out next to Harry. He put one hand on Harry's head, gently running his fingers through the boy's hair as he read, soothing him the way he had in the hospital. Within fifteen minutes, Harry was fast asleep.

While Harry slept, Snape puttered around the cottage. While they were in the hospital, several neighbors had come by and filled the fridge and freezer with casseroles and home-baked food. He had always lived such a solitary existence, it felt odd to have people—strangers even—going out of their way to do something nice for him.

Not knowing what else to do to occupy his time, he decided to make an inventory of all of the food. He would also make a list of who brought what so he could eventually make Harry write thank you notes. He smirked to himself knowing he could pawn off a tedious job under the auspice of it being a "teaching moment" for the boy. Assuming he'd be able to hold a pen again.

Snape really hoped Poppy would come by soon. Although he was happy to help Harry, and he would gladly do it for as long as the boy needed him, he couldn't help but be frightened by the prospect that Harry might have permanent damage. He worried that he'd never be able to hold and control a wand again. The doctors seemed convinced it would resolve shortly, but they had also offered to set Harry up with physical and occupational therapy just in case. Snape wondered if he should call and set that up now. No, he'd wait to see what Poppy said first and go from there. There had to be some magical solution that was more convenient than having some strange muggles in the house three times a week.

After he'd organized and catalogued the food, cleaned the kitchen, and paced around the parlor a good 20 times, Snape decided to go in and check on Harry. He was finding it extremely difficult to focus on anything or be more than 10 feet away from the boy. He knew he was being ridiculous, but after the harrowing drama of the last week, he was finding it difficult to return to normal. He constantly worried Harry would stop breathing, or have a nightmare, or try to get out of bed and his feet would be numb and he'd fall and injure himself. He knew he shouldn't hover constantly, but it was hard not to. The boy had nearly died in his arms and he wasn't sure he'd ever fully get over it.

Snape tried not to think about it, and he worked very hard to block out memories of Harry, limp and blue in his arms, but they often came without warning. Flashing back to him out of nowhere when he was rinsing dishes or brushing his teeth. Snape recognized this as trauma, but he also felt ridiculous worrying about his own trauma when he hadn't even been the one to go through anything. Harry was the one stuck in that cave nearly dying, he didn't feel he had a right to his own trauma when there was a young boy who had suffered ten times as much. He'd just have to suck it up and deal with it. He had enough experience pushing his emotions away, he'd manage just fine. At least, that's what he tried to tell himself. For some reason this felt so different to him. Nearly losing Harry had wounded him more deeply than he could ever have imagined.

While they were in the hospital, a mental health counselor had been to see Harry a few times to see how he was coping, and one of the doctors had pulled Snape aside to talk to him about signs of PTSD. He had encouraged Snape to set up counseling for Harry as soon as possible and not wait for him to show signs or get worse. They'd given him pamphlets on trauma and when and how to seek mental health support. Snape had read them over and over again late at night while Harry slept.

He knew at some point they'd have to talk about what happened, but Snape didn't want to bring it up and make things worse. He also knew that Harry had older trauma that had never been properly dealt with and it all just felt overwhelming. He would mention it to Poppy and get her advice. He wondered if there were therapists in the magical world, he'd never heard of them, but he wanted Harry to be able to talk freely about everything without having to hide an important part of his life. Either way, Snape was determined to find someone to help the boy, it would just be a matter of whether it was a muggle or a magical therapist.

When Harry woke up, Snape helped him go through his physical therapy exercises. They chatted casually while Snape stretched his muscles.

"How long will it take for everything to get back to normal?" Harry asked.

"Normal, how?"

"I don't know, like, til I can do stuff like I did before?"

Snape thought carefully for a moment about how to answer this. "I'm not sure, Harry. No one can know for sure so we'll just have to be patient. The muggle doctors said it was temporary and should resolve in a few weeks, but we're going to have Madame Pomfrey look at it as well, and if needed, see a more specialized healer."

"Oh. So it's possible I could stay like this forever?" Harry looked like he was about to cry.

Snape stopped what he was doing and sat on the bed next to Harry. He took both of the boy's hands in his own. "Look at me, Harry. Whatever it is, we will deal with it and we will manage it. I am confident you'll make a full recovery and I promise you that I will do everything in my power to see that you get whatever care and support you need to get better. If we have to travel to Madagascar to find someone who can help you, we'll do that. But I want you to hear this."

He wasn't sure what compelled him, but Snape reached over and picked Harry up and set him on his lap, wrapping his arms loosely around him. He wanted to hold him closely while he said this. "I want you to recover, Harry, because I don't want things to be difficult or frustrating for you. I also don't want to see you in pain or suffering. But I also want you to know that no matter what, we will figure things out and find a way to make it work. If you have to do things differently for a while, or learn how to do things in a new way, we'll do that. Together, we'll find a solution. There are exceptional witches and wizards with disabilities who find extraordinary ways to do things. And you will be no different. And I will help you, no matter what, no matter how long it takes. Do you understand me?"

Harry put his arms around Snape's neck and just cried into him. Snape held him, rocking him gently and rubbing soothing circles on his back. "You're going to be alright, Harry. You're alive and you're safe now, and that's the most important thing. Everything else, we can deal with. Which reminds me, I have some good news for you."

With a large sniff, Harry lifted his head up to look at Snape. "What good news?" He reached up to wipe his nose with the back of his hand. With his weak motor control, he ended up just smearing snot all over his hand and face.

Snape gave him a disappointed look. "Really, Harry? Use a tissue, that's disgusting." He accio'ed a box of tissues and handed one to the boy. He would have done it himself but he wanted to encourage Harry to try and do things on his own.

Harry fumbled around and wiped his nose and then tried to hand Snape the crumpled up, snot-filled tissue. Snape raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like a trash receptacle, Harry? Put it in the rubbish bin."

"But I'm comfortable, I don't want to get up right now," Harry whined and leaned back into Snape.

"Fine," Snape said as he snatched the dirty tissue out of his hand and rolled his eyes. He wiped the boy's face where he missed a few spots and then sailed the tissue across the room where it landed right in the bin near Harry's desk. Harry wasn't sure if he'd used magic or just had exceptionally good aim, but either way, he was impressed.

"Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely imposed upon, I have some good news. The APM board has agreed to grant your apprenticeship, Harry. So when you're feeling better, we will finally make it official."

He expected Harry to jump for joy- but instead, the boy looked disappointed.

"What's wrong, Harry," Snape asked, putting a finger under the boy's chin and lifting it up. "I thought you would be happy."

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "So, I'll just be your apprentice, then? We'll just leave here and go back to Hogwarts like none of this happened?"

Snape furrowed his brow, this was not how he expected this conversation to go at all. "We're not going back to Hogwarts straight away. I told Professor Dumbledore that we'd take our time, I want you to heal and recover first. And yes, you'll be my apprentice, I thought that's what you wanted. Have you changed your mind?" His heart started pounding, did Harry want to be rid of him? Did he want to find someone else to take care of him, someone who wouldn't nearly get him killed?

"I do want it, I guess. I just don't want things to be different. I like being here with you, I like it when you take care of me…" he paused for a moment before he said what he was really thinking. "I like it when you pretend to be my dad."

Now Snape understood. Harry was afraid if they went through with the apprenticeship, he was going to stop taking care of him and just treat him like he would any other student. "Harry, listen to me carefully. The apprenticeship is just a piece of paper, it's a means to an end. It is what we have to do so you can be allowed to come back to Hogwarts and continue to train as a wizard. It will also protect us from the Ministry ever trying to take custody over you. It does NOT define our relationship or how much you mean to me. Some things will change, we'll go back to Hogwarts and you'll study potions for a few hours a day, but I will still be your guardian. I will still take care of you and be there for you and make sure you're fed and have a bath and go to bed on time. How we lived here was not pretend, Harry. We might have been using different names and telling people we were blood related when we're not, but everything else was entirely real. I will still be your guardian, your parent, whatever name you want to give it, that is not going to change."

"So you'll still read to me and take me places and tuck me in at night?"

"Of course I will. I'm not going anywhere. I promised you I would look after you and care for you, and I will always do that. And if you put some effort into it, I might also teach you a thing or two about potions, although I'll try not to hold my breath," Snape quipped.

Harry hugged him again. "Thank you."

"You're thanking me now, but you're stuck with me after this Harry. Our relationship will be bound by magic and wizarding laws. So remember that when I'm forcing you to harvest mandrakes or write a 4 foot essay on dragon's blood or making you clean your room or go to bed early. It's a package deal, my boy." Snape patted him gently on the leg.

"But I'm not well, so you have to be nice to me until I heal," Harry said, putting on a fake pout.

"I have to do no such thing. So you better behave yourself, I'm going to be just as strict with you now, maybe even more so. Keep in mind, you're not so debilitated that I can't punish you if you disobey me." Snape tried to sound convincing but he knew he was going to struggle to maintain his stern demeanor. He'd turned into absolute mush over the last week and he was going to have to work hard to find his edge again.

He was joking around with the boy, but he didn't want Harry thinking he could get away with everything just because he nearly died. As a result of his own foolhardy disobedience, he reminded himself. He wasn't going to bring it up now, but at some point they'd need to have a serious talk about Harry putting himself in dangerous situations.

If the boy hadn't nearly died, Snape would have taken Harry over his knee and given him a spanking he'd never forget. He would much rather that the boy learned that way than nearly dying and spending a week in the ICU. Oh no, Snape would NEVER go through anything like that again, so if he had to spank Harry to keep him from getting killed, he'd put the boy over his knee every day. He didn't think he could survive another week like this last one.

Harry chuckled suddenly.

"What are you laughing about?" Snape said in a mock stern voice. "You don't believe I can still be strict with you? I'm more than happy to prove it to you, shall I give you a spanking right now? You know you more than deserve one for putting me through hell this past week." He tickled Harry lightly on the side until he was cracking up.

"Nooooo!" Harry squealed with laughter. "I believe you! I was just laughing thinking about what you would have done to me if I'd acted like Patrick does to his mum. You should have seen it. He told her to shut up and then he slammed his door and he even left his plates on the table without cleaning up."

Snape's face dropped to a scowl. "Oh trust me, I've seen it. And I think you know exactly what I'd do to you if you ever acted so disrespectfully. Ms. Owens might think she's being kind to him by letting him get away with that kind of behavior, but I assure you, she's doing him a great disservice. But you don't have to worry, Harry, because I will never EVER let you get away with that. You can thank me when you grow up and people respect you."

Harry was intrigued now. "You saw Patrick talk back to his mum? What did you do?" He smiled with a mischievous grin, indulging his inner schadenfreude by imagining Snape finally giving Patrick his comeuppance.

"I can promise you, it took every ounce of self-control I had not to thrash that boy within an inch of his life. I should be given a Nobel Peace Prize for my restraint, or perhaps sainthood," Snape mused.

Now Harry wanted to know more. "Is Patrick going to get in trouble for leaving me down there? He tricked me."

Snape braced himself. He knew from the Mental Health pamphlets he should let Harry talk about things at his own pace, and that he should be open and available if he wanted to bring up what he'd been through, but he was not prepared for this right now. Nonetheless, if Harry wanted to talk about it, he would try to stay calm and just be honest.

"I don't know what will happen to Patrick, but he's only 11, so I doubt there will be any legal repercussions. I think the poliice are viewing it as kids just being mischievous, and it will be up to his mother to decide how she wants to deal with him."

Snape had zero faith that Elizabeth would do anything more than coddle the boy and make excuses for him. She clearly loved him, but had no idea how to discipline him effectively, and as much as he blamed her for this whole ordeal, he recognized she was doing her best. She was a young mum without much support, and Patrick had no other parental figures.

"Am I going to see him again?" Harry's voice was soft and he was picking lint off of his pajamas.

"I think that will be up to you to decide, but you certainly don't ever have to. However, if at some point you want to confront him or talk to him about it, I will support you. I'll let you be the judge of what will help you to heal. But just so you know, you have every right to be angry and hurt by what he did," Snape could tell Harry was getting upset and he rubbed his back gently.

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," Harry said, the betrayal and sadness evident on his face.

"Then we'll stop. Are you hungry? Your dinner tonight is courtesy of the townsfolk of Cardigan. Based on my calculations, we won't have to cook for several weeks. You'll have to let me know what food you like best so we can make an effort to befriend the good cooks," Snape joked, hoping it would cheer Harry up. "How are your feet feeling, can you walk?"

"They're a little numb but I can try." Harry replied.

"Come on then, up you get." Snape patted him gently on the hip and helped down off his lap. "So what will it be tonight. Cottage pie or cottage pie?"

Author's End Note:

I hope you guys enjoyed that and don't hate me any more :)

What do you think of the changes in Snape? Do you think Harry will make a quick recovery? I've LOVED hearing your opinions about how they're going to deal with Elizabeth and Patrick, and hopefully I'll have something planned for the next chapter, but keep them coming!

Thanks for your patience! Comment and let me know what you thought of this chapter and where things are heading with Snape & Harry. I can't wait to hear what you think! A lot of love went into this chapter.