CHAPTER 8

There was a very awkward silence in the hospital room.

"I apologise for landing you in the hospital wing, Potter," Severus said finally. Harry stared at him. Severus was not surprised. The young man probably hated and mistrusted him more than ever. He sat down on the chair Dumbledore had occupied a minute ago, staring at his husband. Their marriage had started off badly and had gone downhill dramatically. Harry was silent, not speaking. It was disconcerting. A divorce sounded perfectly reasonable. It was something which was done frequently as of today and mostly the best solution in matters where conflicts could not be settled. But his union with Harry was no ordinary marriage. In the end, it was Harry's eyes which helped him make up his mind. Their shape and startling green colour reminded him of his mother Lily. Lily, who had always been kind and had defended him when James Potter and Sirius Black had humiliated him. And he had lashed out at her. She was on a different plane of existence now, and he didn't know whether she was in this world or in another. He knew that she was somewhere, her soul ever-living, and that she had moved on, not becoming a ghost like the Bloody Baron, the Grey Lady and others. She had moved on into the Light, gone on to the "next great adventure", as Dumbledore called it, and yet she was still here, and she was in the eyes and soul of her son. Lily had defended Severus, and he had repaid her poorly by joining Voldemort, who had killed her and her husband. Severus's whole being had turned in revolt at the notion of Voldemort trying to murder a baby. He had become disillusioned and dismayed on realising what a circle of serial killers he had joined. And the baby had had to be Harry Potter, who looked so much like James Potter…except for those eyes. Severus looked into the green eyes.

"We will continue our marriage," Severus said, "with your consent. You have mine."

Harry blinked. He had been sure that Severus would happily fetch the divorce papers.

"I consent if you treat me with more respect than you have so far. I am not saying that you should like me. It is enough for me if you realise that I am a sentient thinking being, though I may be inferior in brainpower and talent to you."

Severus was silent, still staring into Harry's eyes broodingly.

"It should suffice to sustain us for a year," he answered.

After Harry's return from the hospital wing, they were usually completely silent around each other, treating each other with indifference. Harry expected to be glad about no longer being the main target of Severus's bad temper. Instead, he began to stifle in the loneliness. Severus and he lived in two separate worlds. Harry kept to his room or went out to fly on his broom or work in the library. Hagrid was spending a few weeks with Olympe Maxime in France, and Harry missed him. He grew bored. He had argued and quarrelled violently with Severus before ending up in the hospital wing and been unhappy. Now he was just as unhappy with his isolation, partly self-imposed, partly brought on by Severus's cold attitude.

He wrote a lot to his friends and read their letters several times, saving up all of them. He insisted to himself that he was content; and then he would recall that he and Severus were married and that Severus was his Protector. The man had had to sleep with him to fulfil the bonding ritual. Their intimacy had been as forced as their distance from each other was. Harry felt that he could not be himself or behave naturally in Severus's presence, and it was probably the same vice versa. At last, he found a confidante in Nessa. Nessa would obligingly uncoil herself from her pestle and converse with him. Harry found himself talking to her about his marriage a lot. He did not mention his marriage in his letters to his friends except in very brief terms. In his letters, his marriage was "fine" or "quite okay". Nessa soon knew better.

"Severus is just waiting for the day we divorce, Nessa. But he is my Protector besides my husband, and I want to know him better. I don't know how to reach out to him. I am at my wits' end. We live and eat and breathe separately. It's like suffocating, and it's as bad as the arguments in its own way."

"Your husband has been suffocating for years, Harry Potter. He no longer knows what it is to feel. He is half-dead in his heart. He is too used to suffering. Don't become like him otherwise you will wake up and no longer know how to smile or how to appreciate a small but sublime moment. He is in a chasm. Climb down to him, and he will pull you down with him. He has to climb out on his own, brave one, and look for you."

"He will never do that. Not without guidance, and he hates guidance."

"You have tried, young one, and he broke your arm and cut your head. I saw him carry you out past my portrait. I heard you and him arguing inside. And now I feel the distance between you. There is always a way, Harry Potter, and one day, both you and he will find it and take it together. Go out for a walk. Enjoy the rain, enjoy the sun, enjoy whatever is outside. Taste the sweetness the world has to offer and bring it back with you into the rooms you and the Potions Master share."

Nessa's words gave Harry both hope and a strange sadness.

"You speak poetically, Nessa…"

"Ah, poetry is beautiful, young one. Poetry is not only in words. You have to experience it in your own way. Tell me, what do you like to do in your free time?"

"Uhm…I like to read, I love going on my broom for rides, listening to music, writing to my friends, sketching a bit-"

"Sketching? I believe that there will be a sketching and art class next term, young one. I was wandering through the portraits at night and heard the news."

"You think I should participate? I don't know…I sketch really weird stuff…"

"So much the better. Weird is good," Nessa said, yielding to a hissing chuckle. "Your emotions swim at the tip of your tongue, young one. It is the complete opposite with your husband's feelings. He doesn't like to talk at all. Perhaps it is not through speaking that you will find a way to each other, but through something else." She winked at him with her beady eye. The door suddenly opened. Nessa wrapped herself around the pestle and Harry leapt back to avoid being knocked down as Severus stepped out. The door closed behind him.

"Still there?" Nessa asked humorously.

"Yes," Harry said.

"Incorrigible. Showing off your Parselmouth skills, Potter," Severus snarled, brushing past Harry.

"That's what I mean," Harry muttered to Nessa. Severus stopped and slowly turned on his heel.

"What did you just say, Potter?"

A loud hiss from Nessa startled them both. The serpent had opened her mouth and was displaying her fangs, her beady eyes glaring at Severus. It was a warning.

Severus's eyes narrowed to slits.

"You wilful reptile! You have the impudence to disobey the one whose rooms you guard?"

Nessa turned her head towards Harry.

"Tell him that they are not only his rooms but yours as well."

Harry looked into Severus's eyes and repeated Nessa's words:

"Nessa says that they are not only your rooms but mine as well."

"You will hold your forked tongue and continue doing your duty, or I will replace your portrait," Severus threatened.

Nessa hissed out an answer. Harry translated it.

"She says that she will tell all the other pictures about your behaviour and make sure they don't do your bidding."

Severus stared at the serpent for a few moments. Then he marched away, shoulders stiff with anger. Harry stared after him.

"Thank you, Nessa. How do you communicate with him if he doesn't understand Parseltongue?" Harry wondered.

"Oh, I can write with my tail." She waved the tip of her tail at him. "Parseltongue is a purely oral language. I use English as a written language. The one who painted me was very skilled. He poured his art and spirit into me and gave me all he had before he died. I never knew his name. Go out into the sunshine, Harry Potter."

The wise snake closed her eyes, ending the conversation. Harry smiled and followed her recommendation, strolling around in the grounds and drinking in the sunshine. He felt refreshed after his stroll, just like he did after flying on his broom. He reluctantly returned to his rooms. Severus was sitting near the hearth, reading. Harry silently went to his bedroom, leaving the door ajar for the admittance of fresh air, although he could have used a charm to drive out the stuffiness. Hedwig had placed two notes and a timetable on his pillow. One note was from Kingsley Shacklebolt, telling him that he was coming to Hogwarts on Monday to give Harry Duelling lessons and that he was looking forward to the occasion. The second note contained information for his training for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position and was signed by McGonagall and Moody. The timetable listed his Duelling and training lessons. Smiling, Harry first used a charm to make a copy before uttering a non-verbal spell in his mind and flicking his wand. The timetable stuck itself to the wall. He picked up the copy. Although Severus was completely disinterested in what he, Harry, did, Harry felt that Severus should know. He ventured over to the hearth.

"Er…Severus?" he asked tentatively.

Irritated black eyes surveyed him from behind an ancient tome.

"I just received my timetable for my Duelling and Defense Against the Dark Arts training. I thought I'd give you a copy that way you know where I am."

A slender hand took the timetable without comment. Harry stood around hesitantly.

"Anything else, Potter? Because I am going to a muggle bar for a drink. Alone. I am not interested in your company."

"A muggle bar?"

"To avoid being recognised. Just imagine if the Ministry or a spy of the Dark Lord saw me in a bar. They would think my marriage is disintegrating, and we don't want them to think that."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, feeling a certain disquiet.

"I am interested in other company than yours."

Harry looked at him suspiciously.

"Are you dating someone?" he asked slowly.

"Are you going to indulge in a scene of jealousy?"

Harry's hackles were rising.

"If you are seeing someone behind my back-"

Severus rose, his black eyes boring into Harry's.

"This marriage, Potter, is only a convenient plot. I have no commitment whatsoever where you are concerned except that I am your Protector."

"Are you sleeping with someone else on the side?" Harry asked baldly.

"Rest reassured that I am not sleeping with anyone at the moment and have not done so since I stepped into this wretched union with you. Having a drink in a bar and sleeping with someone are two quite different things, but I do not expect you to understand the distinction with your limited brain capacity."

"But you have nothing against infidelity in this marriage with me, is that right?" Harry asked angrily.

Severus shrugged.

"Our lives are separate, Potter."

"Listen to me, Severus. You had the opportunity to divorce me. Merlin knows why you didn't go running for the divorce forms when I was in the hospital wing. I would have consented. You announced your decision first, not me. Nothing has changed since our last argument. Nothing. If you have such little self-respect, then how can you respect others? You feel no guilt going to a bar and having a drink and flirting with strangers while I am back here at Hogwarts? How can I trust you? And how can you trust me? What is the sense of marriage and responsibility if you behave like this?"

He was not conscious of the tears filling his eyes.

"You and I share a blood bond and you go and…Forget it. I see that you hate me too fixedly and that you have no wish to really know me or to talk to me or to…"

His anger choked him for an instant.

"You see what you want to see. You don't know me at all. Go! If you think that the protection lies only in the blood, then leave! Step out of this fucking marriage! Don't let me pin you down! I would have thought it natural to long to be on talking terms with someone who has saved my life, agreed to marry me and establish a protective blood bond with me! But if you consider it so abnormal, then why should you still disagree to a divorce? Why stick with me if it is more for Dumbledore's sake than for mine?"

He stepped back, covering his face with his hands for a moment. Then he pulled off his wedding band and flung it defiantly at Severus.

"Use it as a Potions ingredient!" he shouted. Severus had become very pale and had not moved or even attempted to speak during Harry's outburst. He flinched slightly as he heard the crashing slam of Harry's bedroom door. Within ten minutes, however, Harry had emerged, his trunk gliding behind him.

"Where are you going?"

Harry did not answer. He headed for the room.

Severus followed him and gripped his shoulder. Harry rounded on him.

"What are you going to do? Break my arm?" he snarled, sounding uncannily like Severus himself. He shook off Severus's hand and marched out of the room. Nessa opened her eyes.

"Harry Potter, don't leave," she called him, but he didn't pay attention. Breathing through clenched teeth, he left the dungeons and finally arrived at Gryffindor Tower.

"De Amicitia," he panted.

"Are you feeling well, dear?" the Fat Lady asked anxiously.

"I…Yeah, I'm fine, thanks. May I go inside?"

"Of course, dear."

Harry climbed into the Gryffindor common room. He went over to the sofa he had always shared with Ron and Hermione. He buried his face in his arms and cried, so immersed in his unhappiness that he did not notice the door open a second time. Severus Snape walked hesitantly inside the room, his black eyes locating Harry on the sofa and his trunk lying in the middle of the room.

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