Chapter Five – Another Fight.
For a moment, Harry stared dumbly down at the collapsed Snape. Luckily, he eventually came to his senses and called Madame Pomfrey as he levitated Snape onto a bed. The Matron bustled over and began casting diagnostic spells.
"Will he be okay?" Harry asked feeling awkward, feeling confused, feeling oddly sympathetic for the cruel bastard who had suffered more than he could comprehend.
"He should be," she answered cautiously. "It depends upon his own magic's response to the poison, I assume he's already taken the blue potion?" Harry nodded.
He sat by Snape's bed, holding the older wizards hand in his. It was cold, soft yet masculine, with beautiful fingers, Harry noticed small burns on his fingers, perhaps from his work with potions, perhaps from his time serving Voldemort. Harry shuddered slightly, feeling sympathetic for the man who had killed Dumbledore? For the man who had watched on as Voldemort tortured Ginny? For the man who had sold out his parents to Voldemort? He sighed knowing that he was being slightly unreasonable. Only slightly. He had killed Dumbledore on Dumbledore's instructions, just because Harry didn't like the result of them didn't mean they were entirely wrong. And Snape had intervened to give Ginny a quicker death than Voldemort would've liked. He showed mercy. Then Harry remembered the bruises on his wrist. The man is still a fucking asshole, He thought. Just one who has no one else but me.
He sat by Snapes bed, determined to be there when he woke. They might have some talking to do.
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"How touching," Snape sneered. Harry raised his head, Snape was awake and already insulting him. He'd been asleep in the chair beside Snape's bed.
"Sorry for caring," he snapped back.
"You don't care,"
"You're right, I don't." Harry stood up and stalked from the Hospital Wing. Snapes a greasy git. And for once, the nasty voice in his head murmured in agreement.
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Snape watched the boy go. Irritating prat. He thought viciously. Why on earth would he sit by my bed. He must be a fool to think that there's anything but hate between us. I was prepared to use him to further the Prince line, if that isn't absolutely irredeemable then what the hell is wrong with the boy? He didn't have much more time to consider it as Poppy came through and insisted that he take some Dreamless Sleep potion.
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Snape made it back to the Dungeons early in the next morning. Poppy wasn't happy about it, but he was not a student that she could boss around and in any case she knew that he always did better when left to his own devices. The boy was still asleep in their rooms, so he decided to spend some time in their living room to save disturbing him and having an irate Gryffindor on his hands. There was a letter on the coffee table, Snape read it with smirk on his lips. Invited to a party with the Weasels and Granger-Weasley? How fun. He folded up the letter with every intention of going to the party.
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"Good morning Severus," Harry said quietly entering the room.
"Morning," the older man rose. "Were you going to tell me about the party or what?"
"Party?" Harry asked blankly. "Why would you want to go to the party? I didn't think it'd be your scene with all the blood-traitors and the Muggle Borns?" Snape scoffed.
"I am your husband, wherever you go, I go." he snarled.
"As if," Harry drew his wand to match Snape's stance. "Why do you think they'd want to see you? Get over yourself,"
Snape was fast, but not as fast as Harry. The book hit him square in the face and he knew the silver goblet he'd spelled had missed its mark.
"Tarantegra," Harry murmured using an alteration of the Jelly Legs curse. In the next second, he was hanging upside down by his ankles thanks to a non verbal levicorpus. Harry hexed a candlestick at Snape's wand hand. The distraction worked but with nasty consequences. Snape jerked his wand hand backwards and Harry fell to the ground with a sickening crack.
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"Mobilcorpus," Severus levitated Harry and his broken leg. "Consipio" he added, not wanting the boy to wake and whinge. When the boy was safely secured on their bed, he retreated to his potion stores. He didn't want Poppy to hear of this.
When he returned, the boy was thankfully still asleep, as he should've been thanks to the spell. But who knows what the infernal boy could be capable of? He eased the healing potion down the boys throat, certainly it wouldn't heal him as fast as a spell, but he didn't have Poppy's skill with bones, same as she hadn't his talen for potions.
After watching him for a few moments, Snape sighed and went into the living chamber, he could do with some firewhiskey.
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After half an hour, Snape went to rouse the boy.
"Harry," he murmured. "It's time to wake up," the boy mumbled, before opening his eyes and staring at Snape defiantly. Harry noticed the bruises on Snapes face where the book had got him and smiled savagely.
"No walking around for two days," the older man had noticed the smile and didn't particularly like it. "Do not put weight on the leg until then," He loomed over Harry. "And I believe it would be best if this remained between us," he said menacingly. Harry nodded and said nothing, hating the power Snape had over him.
Dear Ron and Hermione,
Welcome back! I hope that you've enjoyed the last few days of your honeymoon.
I'd love to come to your celebration, but I can't. I broke my fucking leg on that trick step on the third floor near the library. Severus managed to convince me to try an experimental potion to mend it, but I can't put weight on it for a while. Apparently it will help Squibs and the like who don't have the magic to respond to healing spells. Something like that. You were always the best at Potions Hermione...
Harry smirked at his lie. He didn't really feel like seeing Ron and Hermione anyway, so this suited both purposes. He added a few endearing terms and finished the letter, addressed it and sent it via Belasius. Experimental Potion, ha!
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It was a silent night, Harry knew that Snape wanted to say something to him, but couldn't find the words, probably doesn't really want to. Harry kept reading his book on Phoenixes (charmed to look like the Gryffindor History book, he was researching some way to obtain phoenix tears, willingly given. He didn't know why, the greasy git really didn't deserve it. But it gave something to think about rather than the fact he was bedridden and it eased his anxiety over his concern about being the Gryffindor Head of House. He didn't want to entertain the possibility that everyone might hate him. So he tried not to.
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A/N : Just a short chapter, have been busy today! I hate to think what'll happen tomorrow when I go back to work and want to write instead. I don't think I have the heart to kill Snape, but who knows? All I can say is that it could be close. Thank you to the people who have reviewed so far, it's nice to know that some people like my story and are interested in what's happening/what's going to happen. I'm very grateful!