CHAPTER 19

Christmas was approaching; a little less than two weeks were remaining. Harry whiled the time away going out with his friends on Hogsmeade weekends, visiting them in Gryffindor Tower, romping with the others in the snow or on his Firebolt, studying and practising for his lessons, sketching – and thinking frequently about Luna's words and Severus. Luna was far more observant than her dreamy appearance and mien implied. Still, her remark about Severus watching and smiling from time to time while Harry had drawn Luna's portrait had surprised him. Harry had never seen Severus smile without sarcasm or mockery. What had made him smile genuinely when he had watched Harry sketch? Harry could not find an answer to this question. He himself watched Severus discreetly, always being careful in case Severus caught him staring. Severus, too, made sure that Harry didn't notice his black eyes on him, for Severus often glanced at his young husband through the misty vapours of his potions, his eyes picking up details such as a spike of black hair hanging in his face, or the slight concentrated frown between his eyebrows as he worked, his tongue darting over his lips to moisten them, and the startling green of his eyes whenever he looked up. Harry often wore and worked in jeans, which was his favourite kind of trousers for casual wearing, and in a plain t-shirt. Robes suited him well, but Severus preferred him in muggle clothing. He found himself stealing glances at Harry's figure. Lucky brat, he thought cynically, blessed with good looks, married to a gaunt hook-nosed and ill-tempered stick of a man and persecuted by a perverted psychopathic wizard called Voldemort.

Severus had been summoned by Voldemort twice since the beginning of the term. Voldemort had fed on the fake memories of Severus slowly brainwashing Harry and turning him into his slave.

"He is still rather recalcitrant, Severus," he had hissed critically.

"It only adds to the pleasure, my Lord," Severus had explained suavely.

Voldemort had laughed.

"How wonderfully imaginative you are, my dear Severus!"

He had been pleased enough to let Severus go early and spare him the torture of the Cruciatus on the second occasion.

Severus had replied to Harry's questions with short, irritable and sarcastic answers after returning to Hogwarts, not understanding why Harry should be anxious about Severus's well-being ("Are you alright?" "I hope he didn't hurt you!" "You're looking so tired.").

It was a snowy evening when Severus was called for the third time by Voldemort. Harry was interrupted from wondering what he should get Severus for Christmas – he was still determined to somehow or the other find a way to make their relationship more amicable – by Severus marching off to the door of their rooms, wrapped in a cloak, his Death Eater's mask in his gloved hand.

"He has called you," Harry said, hurrying up to him.

Severus's lip curled.

"Obviously, husband of mine. I should be back in an hour or so."

"Take care of yourself," Harry said, suppressing the sting "husband of mine" caused him. It reminded him how much especially Severus resented their union and didn't seem willing to work on their relationship.

Severus's only answer was a derisive snort as he brushed past Harry, who bit his lip as the door closed behind the tall figure of the Potions Master. The cloak, however, gave him an idea. Severus had two travelling cloaks; one for the summer and another for the winter. The latter was in a sad state. No amount of magic could repair it anymore, and Severus had grumbled about having to buy a new cloak and cast a Warming Charm on the thin summer cloak for the timebeing but had to renew it every time he went out.

Harry decided to read until Severus came back. An hour passed. Severus did not return. After half an hour, Harry began to get nervous. Dobby brought him dinner which he refused. He reassured his friend that the food was always splendid but that he was restless since his husband had not come back as yet. Ten minutes later, he was pacing up and down in the empty hall, and after another ten minutes, he was truly worried. Finally, an hour after Severus was supposed to have come back, Harry left their quarters, closing the door quietly so as not to disturb a napping Nessa, and went to Dumbledore's office.

"Harry! Is something wrong, my dear boy?" Dumbledore asked.

"Professor, I wanted to ask you if you know when Severus will be back?"

Dumbledore raised his hand and stroked his long white beard.

"I'm afraid I don't know, Harry."

"He's been away for nearly two hours. He said he would be back in an hour or so," Harry said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and twisting his hands, "he's never been away for so long…at least, not since we married…"

Dumbledore came round his desk and, placing both hands on Harry's shoulders, looked into the anxious green eyes.

"He will come back, Harry. Don't worry."

Harry sighed.

"I'm scared every time he leaves. I'm scared Voldemort will hurt him. He does hurt him. Severus is always so tired and pale when he returns." His voice shook. "I…I think he uses the Cruciatus curse on him. I felt it through my scar the time before last…I didn't see it, but I knew that it was Severus he was hurting. He was in pain when he came back. He wouldn't talk to me."

Dumbledore squeezed his shoulders gently.

"Sit down, Harry, and have a lemon drop."

Harry knew that it was no use standing around and worrying. Sitting down and having a lemon drop wasn't any less or any more constructive.

"Thank you, sir."

He sat down and accepted the lemon drop the Headmaster gave him.

"You care for Severus. For his well-being."

Harry stopped sucking at the sweet. It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Dumbledore was smiling. Just then, there was a brisk tap-tap on Dumbledore's door. Dumbledore looked at a mirror-like object on his desk. He beamed, rose and opened the door himself.

"Severus! Please come in."

Harry leapt up from his chair and then blushed.

The cloaked figure of the Potions Master stepped inside the office.

"Harry came here because he was worried about you, Severus. He wanted to know if I knew when you were returning," Dumbledore smiled.

Severus didn't say anything. He simply looked at Harry.

"I suggest that you go down to your rooms and exchange your news," Dumbledore said, twinkling at them from behind his spectacles.

The two wizards wished him good night and left.

"You were worried about me?" Severus asked Harry softly as they walked towards the dungeons.

"Yes, you were away for so long," he said, looking closely at his husband's face.

"I did not know that Voldemort would be holding a big dinner during which he questioned Lucius Malfoy about Draco's willingness to join the Death Eaters. After submitting Lucius to the Cruciatus curse, he demanded to know details concerning our abusive marriage. I gave him fake memories to feast upon."

"Our marriage is not abusive," Harry said loudly.

Severus raised an eyebrow.

"It is supposed to be abusive in the eyes of Voldemort, Harry," he pointed out, "also, you must admit that you did, ah, imply that I had abused you, if you recall the beginning of our marriage and the consummation of our blood bond."

Harry reddened. Severus never forgot hurtful things, and he felt unhappy that Severus remembered the ugly scenes between them during the first weeks of their marriage so vividly.

"And I apologised to you. Are you still mad at me because of that?"

"Why do you ask? Of what importance is it to you?"

Harry bit his lip, then responded:

"Because…your opinion is important to me. Because…you…are important to me."

"A spy and protector is always important and useful," Severus said. Harry realised that Severus had misunderstood his sentence. Perhaps he had even done so deliberately.

"No, no, I didn't mean important in that way. I mean, that is important, but I meant-"

Severus stopped walking and crossed his arms on his chest.

"Will you get to the point?"

"You are important to me as a person."

Severus uncrossed his arms and stared into Harry's eyes.

"Have you eaten?" he asked finally.

"I…No. I had no appetite."

"We will go back now and you will have dinner."

"Did Voldemort at least serve good food?" Harry asked seriously. To his surprise, Severus began to laugh merrily. The sound was uplifting.

"I don't think I have ever laughed at a sentence which contained the Dark Lord's name – until now," he said, smiling. Harry's heart skipped a beat.

"He didn't poison us – we're too useful for him. Everything was well cooked. We were in Malfoy Manor, the house elves did all the slogging."

"And he ended up torturing the host."

"Well…Yes."

"Did he hurt you?"

"Not this time."

"Is there really no way you can tell me when you'll be back?"

"Not without Voldemort knowing about it. It would awaken his suspicions. Now stop fretting. Has your appetite returned?"

"Yes."

They reached their quarters. Severus flung off his cloak. Harry watched it slide down his figure caressingly.

"Dobby!" he called. The little elf appeared with a smile.

"I believe Mr Potter refused his dinner?"

Dobby's ears drooped.

"He was too restless, Master Snape."

"He is no longer restless. Could you please bring him his dinner?"

"Of course!" Dobby squealed.

"Thank you, Dobby," Severus said genially. Dobby disappeared and Severus turned to Harry.

"I am going to have a bath, and you will eat."

He gave Harry another long look before leaving.

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