August passed into September before Severus saw Harry again.
He had gone to his front garden at midnight to harvest moonflowers when he heard the unmistakable sound of someone shuffling down the cobbled street. He turned toward the sound to see a wizard walking slowly and unsteadily along the curb.
"Sev'rus," called the recognizable but faint voice of Harry Potter as he came within earshot.
"Mr. Potter." Severus watched the obviously drunk man approach. "Been at the Three Broomsticks, I take it?"
"Sev…"
Harry had moved from the shadows into the bright moonlight and Severus took a step forward in alarm, realizing that the young wizard was not drunk but injured.
"What in Merlin's name happened to you?" he exclaimed. Even in the moonlight he could see that Harry had a deep gash above his eye and a bruised and swollen lip, as if he'd been in some sort of Muggle fist fight. He reached out to steady the former auror and Harry winced.
"'t's OK," said Harry faintly. "Got in a fight is all. Had a bit much to drink…"
"You're not drunk." It was a statement, not a question.
"Sobering potion…Robinson…gave it to me. Used to be my partner…" Harry looked behind himself to the still dark and quiet street. "Promised him I'd go right home…Can't seem to find my cane, though." He looked around himself in the street hopefully.
Severus had been studying the other man closely. From the way Potter was carrying himself, the obvious injuries to his face were only the tip of the proverbial iceberg.
"Robinson? You were out with Auror Robinson?"
But Harry was shaking his head. "He was working. Bit of a mess…" Harry was backing up as he spoke, checking the street again and looking very much like he wanted to continue on his way.
"Where are your children?" asked Severus suddenly, moving quickly behind Harry.
The question obviously confused Harry. "Molly 'n Arthur are minding them….why?"
"Then you have time to come inside…for tea," Severus said as he steered the younger man toward his front door.
" I'm OK..." protested Harry, wincing. "'Sides it's too late for tea…" But he headed toward the house anyway, propelled forward by a firm arm on his shoulder. He staggered slightly on the stair and wavered.
Severus leaned in from behind. "Tea, Harry." Up the front stairs, through the screen door, past the room where they had shared tea and fire whisky, into a small sitting room with a fireplace. Harry allowed Severus to remove his outer robes and Severus winced at the blood seeping through from the younger man's shoulder, then immediately went to work on the buttons of his teaching robe and removed that. He cursed at the tight blue t-shirt but pushed the man back onto the sofa before pulling the offending garment carefully over Harry's head.
A sharp intake of breath as he regarded the deep puncture wound on the shoulder, still oozing blood. A knife? He didn't bother to ask as he rolled the t-shirt and pressed it against the wound. Harry groaned as he dropped his head back against the sofa cushions.
"You need a healer, Harry. I can't repair that kind of damage. St. Mungo's, then," he said. "I'll floo call Arthur."
Harry struggled to stand. "No…not Mungo's," he slurred. He swayed and Severus steadied him. "Not hospital…"
"Poppy then," said Severus, without argument. "Do you think you can floo?"
Harry took an unsteady step toward the fireplace.
"Together, then," said Severus. He wrapped his arms tightly around the injured man and managed to drop the floo powder into the flames as he did so.
"Hogwarts infirmary." They were gone in a whirl, the offer of tea forgotten.
"Aunt Mione, Dad's friend is here."
Hermione looked up from the tea kettle at her nephew. She didn't ask who the friend was. She'd been expecting him all morning.
"Thanks, James. Bring him back to see your Dad, then." She finished preparing the tea tray, adding another cup and topping off the cream. She lifted it carefully and made her way back to the small sitting room behind the kitchen.
"Good morning, Severus," she said as she entered.
"Mrs. Weasley," said the visitor politely. He was clutching a folded newspaper in his hands. "I trust you and your family are well."
Hermione smiled. The man minded his social graces, even though his voice did not quite mask the anger seething beneath the surface. She glanced at Harry as he struggled into a seated position on the couch.
"Everyone is fine," she said as she set the tray down on the tea table. She quickly made Harry's tea and pressed it into his hands then turned to Severus.
"Cream, no sugar," he said as he sat down stiffly on a worn leather chair opposite the sofa. She handed his cup to him a moment later then announced "I'll be out front with the boys if you need anything, Harry. Lily's still napping." He looked at her gratefully and nodded. She smiled briefly at Severus then turned and left the room.
"I'm glad you came by," said Harry. "Gives me a chance to thank you…again."
"I tried Hogwarts first, of course," said Severus. "Even though Poppy said last night that you needn't stay too long, I hardly thought you'd be home this early."
Harry stirred his tea with his left hand. "James and Al don't like hospitals much," he said. He took a drink of tea. "George brought me back a couple hours ago and Hermione helped me get settled before Molly came with the children. No, she's gone, Severus." He chuckled as Severus looked around for the Weasley matriarch.
Severus, for his part, could tell how much even that chuckle hurt Harry. He looked better than he had 12 hours before, when he had left Harry in Poppy's capable hands, but his skin was still abnormally pale and even Poppy hadn't been able to prevent the bruising that marred the right side of his face.
"I suppose you've seen the paper, then?" asked Harry, gesturing at the newspaper clutched in Severus white-knuckled hand.
"You said it was a bar fight," said Severus tightly as he unfolded the paper the tawny owl had brought him several hours ago.
"It was a bar fight," answered Harry. "I was in a fight, in a bar."
"Boy-Who-Lived Defends Dumbledore's Death-Eater Assassin," read Severus. "Drunken Harry Potter picks fight with bar patrons…" He tossed the paper toward Harry. It landed face up next to him on the couch. A dated picture of Severus, probably from his trial, leered up at him.
"I've seen it," said Harry lightly, folding the paper over casually.
"You are reckless!" said Snape, leaning in closer to Harry. "You are lucky to be alive after that. Do not…and I repeat…do not endanger yourself for my reputation. It isn't worth it."
Harry stared hard at him, and Severus could see the corner of his mouth twitch.
"They were talking about that registry program the new Minister…"
"I am well aware of the program, Harry," cut in Severus. "Whatever will be, will be. You should not…no, you cannot…change that."
"I will not let them brand you," said Harry tightly.
"I have been branded for more than 30 years," sighed Severus. "Another mark…will just be a mark. It doesn't matter. I live a secluded life. There aren't that many who will have to see it."
"You will," said Potter, more quietly still. "You make potions. You write. You'll see the mark every time you write a letter or an order, every time you stir a potion."
"I know what I am, Harry," said Severus as he finished his tea and stood up. "A brand will not change that." He glanced at the paper still lying on the couch. "I ask you again to not put yourself in danger on my account."
Harry's mouth twitched again. "Touché," he whispered as Severus left the room.