Thanks for all my lovely reviews, you are all too kind, but you really are the reason I write, it's nice to provide a little bit of fantasy and escapism for people, hell knows I enjoy it!
And for the reviewer who said they couldn't read my paragraphs, try altering the font, the middle 'A' in the top right corner will help.
It's a serif font which provides more space between the lines. It's what I read with because I have slight dyslexia and that way it stops my eyes from sliding onto the line below or anything.
Thank you all, love and bunnies and marshmallows, tic tacs. Banana hammocks and toothpaste.
milgarion
Harry sat alone on the windowsill, his head tipped back against the wall as he stared listlessly out. It was another beautiful day in the capital, the children from nearby houses running up and down the street, kicking their footballs into cars and swearing at each other loudly. Harry nursed the cup of tea he held in his hand. He hadn't really wanted to drink it, but he'd had to do something to keep himself busy. He'd tidied the entire house, even hoovered and dusted the place, really working up a sweat. He'd found a mobile phone, which had four missed calls and about thirteen messages. Harry had spent a while figuring out how to use it just to be informed by a lot of pubs and clubs that they were having special happy hours and promotional nights.
He'd sat on his bed for a good hour or so, watching the girl in the garden opposite sunning herself on a bright pink towel and getting pestered by her little brother. He should have been out, doing something, relearning London and all his favourite places. But he just couldn't work up the energy. He knew that wherever he went, whatever he did, there would always be that twist of guilt in his stomach, would always see behind closed eyes the brief look of hurt he'd caused.
Harry put down his tea, it was nearly cold now anyway, and scrubbed his face. What had he done? He hadn't meant to walk away, something had made him stop, pulled him away when really he wanted to stay, to kiss him, to push his fingers into that long hair and just feel. But he knew, deep down, that he couldn't. He didn't know him and it would be unfair to both of them to start anything now, not when the balance was uneven, even though he knew that Severus would be good for him, he'd been told a thousand times what great friends they were, and his display of compassion and understanding at the hospital only made Harry feel like much more of a bastard.
Why couldn't he remember?
He felt fine, he felt healthy and alive and angry. Why now, why just in time to mess everything up? To completely rearrange his life, was this just another test? What did they want from him, blood? Well he'd given that!
He watched the postman approach from down the street, whistling 'Give a little respect' and pissing Harry off because now he knew he'd have that in his head for the rest of the day now. He climbed over the wall between Harry's neighbour and his house rather than climbing down the stairs and back up, shoving a wad of paper through his letterbox before resuming across the narrow ledge beside Harry's window, completely oblivious to him sitting there, climbed over the wall and lost his footing on the other side.
Harry slid off the windowsill and went out into the hall to collect his mail which was mostly junk, a free newspaper that consisted mainly of ads trying to sell old tables with three legs, and a bank statement. He chucked them all into the bin, keeping hold of the statement and ripping it open, whistling lowly at the figure at the bottom. Hogwarts paid well then. Well this just opened up new opportunities for him, he thought as he picked up his wallet, flipping through the contents to find his debit card and a moderate sum of cash. Shopping would sure as hell provide a worthy distraction. He slipped the wallet into his back pocket and picked up his keys, he headed for the door, then turned and went back to pick up the phone which he'd left charging on the mantle.
Skipping down the steps he was unsure about his direction, not where he was going, but his thoughts. Try as he might he couldn't get into the frame of mind that he should just carry on. A few people had told him that he should just try to take things as they come, but that wasn't like him, couldn't comprehend the thought of sitting around waiting for things to happen, he needed to be out there doing something. He and Hermione had never really gotten round to doing that research, but it wasn't exactly Harry's area of expertise. But it was a start at least, a thought that gave him drive. He would find out more about what had happened to him, find out what damage had been done, and magic or no magic, he would find out a way to fix it, his pride would not allow him to think of anything else but success. And when he was finished, when he'd remembered the first time his heart had stopped at the sight of him, then he would be able to go to him, without any doubt in his heart. And things would be perfect and how they were meant to be, because that's how stories like his ended, didn't they?
Feeling much lighter and with purpose in his step, Harry practically jumped the stairs down to the train, narrowly missing get trapped by the doors, he turned and held onto the over head bar, smiling to himself in the packed train, he started to sing quietly. "I tried to discover…..a little something to make me sweeter," a girl looked up and grinned at him, if he was going to have this in his head all day, he was damn sure he was going to take as many people down with him. "Oh baby refrain….from breaking my heart."
IVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVI
True to his Albus' word, the Hogwarts library was unduly full for this time of year. A small knot of extremely bearded wizards sat off to one corner conversing in a language Harry had never heard of before, whilst several others sat at desks piled high with books from the restricted section, some smoking, others bound shut with a belt.
Harry continued to look around him as he perused the shelves on magical maladies, he already had a couple of worn tomes under his arm and his other hand drifted over the spines of others as he slowly paced the shelf. Hogwarts library, Harry assumed, must be one of the biggest collection of magical books in England, he could only imagine what the university library was like.
Huffing a little, he dragged a particularly fat book down from its shelf, landing heavily on top of the others in Harry's arms. It would make a good start. He used the table at the end of the isle, neatly tucked between the shelves with a window looking out over the highlands, unslinging his bag from over his shoulder he pulled out a notebook, one he'd bought earlier for this specific reason, and several pens. He heaved a sigh and sat down, feeling very intellectual at having to do some proper, important research.
The feeling faded though after a while, as he had to sit reading through the pages of the dusty tome, its hand written script nearly illegible with age and terrible handwriting skills. But he'd garnered one or two mildly valuable pieces of information. He'd been at it for three hours, and he'd only gotten through two chapters. Despondently he checked the contents page, eyes running down the list of the one hundred and seventy three he still had left to go. He skipped a couple as they weren't relevant, and got stuck back into it, wondering just how long it would take, and pondering the mental state of one Hermione Granger. How had she done it all those years?
It was a stark reminder at how bad at this he was, the idea of doing research was exciting and he could almost pretend he was Indiana Jones or someone, making a huge discovery. But once he got down to it, it was just plain boring. He leaned idly back in his chair, craning his neck round to see anyone, but the aisle was narrow and provided only a view of the shelves. He let the chair fall back with a thud and a huff, rapping his pencil against his paper. No more fidgeting, he told himself angrily and looked back at the book, turning the pages slowly as he scanned them, eyes catching on words that could have relevance.
He was just about ready to close the book and start on another when something caught his eye. It was a short paragraph detailing the case study of a man, a muggle, 'who hath fallen from a churches spire in the actions of mending it, from which he hath gained terrible injuries to the head and was bedridden for many months. On the day on which he did awaken it became clear that his mind had been addled in the fall.' Harry read on, matching all the man's symptoms to his own and carrying on to find out that a wizard, Mordred Califur, had taken the man on as research, as he was already known in the medical research circle as quite the miracle worker. He worked with the man for many months, spilling over into the years until the time came when all his research would come evident. He set to making a potion designed to access and repair damaged neural pathways, a procedure still not deigned safe by St Mungo's today, and quite frankly revolutionary for their time. But for some reason the potion didn't work, the man died, and before Califur had the chance to find out why he was driven from the country in a nation wide man hunt and was never heard of again.
Harry stared down at the book, there, in that one paragraph, his hope lay shattered. One man, hundreds of years ago had come close, after years of trying. And Harry knew that there was no other way, Sure, St Mungo's had potions for enhancing the growth and recovery of new pathways after an accident, but repairing damaged ones was something else altogether, even Harry new that. Harry sighed disconsolately and pushed the book away, leaning back in his chair. Carelessly he scribbled the name 'Mordred Califur' into his notebook, underlining it beneath all the other notes he'd taken. The man may have failed, but there could still be writings on his research somewhere. After that he threw his pen in the direction of his bag and stood up, stretching his arms over his head and pulling a face, he did a half yawn and rubbed his hands across his neck.
He made his mind up to see if he could make it down to the kitchens and maybe pick up a glass of something to cool his dry throat, which was one problem with libraries, all that warm dry air. He wondered out into the corridor, smelling the slight residue of smoke in the air. The castle had undergone extensive restoration work, hundreds of tapestries and pictures had had to be cleaned by specialists, even now men were busy, scurrying like ants among the corridors trying to clean up and repair the damage that had been done. Harry headed down the main staircase, holding on to the final spindle and spinning round off the bottom step; he took a left and headed to the kitchens. Harry wondered whether the other guests in the castle were catered for, wondered if house elves popped up from time to time or they were shown the location of the kitchens themselves. Shortly he found the picture and tickled the pear gaining himself entry.
Instead of the usual hustle and bustle that Harry would normally walk into, their was a modest hum of activity, only a few house elves meandered around the kitchen, carrying heavy pots containing soups and dumplings or preparing tea sets. A couple turned to look at him and placed their burdens on the tables to hurry over to him, bowing low and taking his order. Harry asked whether he could have any of the soup, receiving an excited squeak from the elf that had made it. He sat down at the table as the clambered around him, setting a place with knife and spoon, a deep bowl was laid before him, full with steaming soup and a plate with crusty roll and butter placed by his elbow. Harry thanked them and received little blushes in return as they set about their business again.
Harry thought as he sat, stirring the thick soup until it cooled enough for him to eat.
What was his next juncture? First, he would finish reading the texts, a miserable thought, he knew. Then he would contact Hermione tonight to find out if there were any relevant texts in her library, maybe asking nicely if she could look over them for him. He knew she would scowl at him but do it anyway. Then, when he'd exhausted his methods, he would look into this Mordred Califur. There must be writing on his research somewhere, although the phrase, 'driven from the country', rang in his ears as he thought this. He took a mouthful of soup and closed his eyes. Real food, all he'd had over the last few days were things he'd found in his freezer, mass produced and bad for you.
"Oh hello Harry."
Harry swallowed the soup too quickly in an effort to stop choking but it had the reverse effect and he started coughing madly.
"Ooo, didn't mean to startle you, just down for a cup of tea." Albus said, taking a seat next to him and patting Harry on the back as he regained his composure.
"No, no. my fault." Harry muttered, clearing his throat again "Should start eating with my eyes open." He put his spoon down and picked up the glass of water that a house elf had brought for him.
"Mmm, useful." The headmaster remarked dryly. Harry grinned at him.
"So what brings you to these hallowed halls?" Albus said theatrically, making a real show of putting milk and sugar into his tea.
"Research." Harry said, "I hate sitting around, so I thought I could at least look into this, St Mungo's seem to have serious reservations into research regarding this. As a top establishment you would think they have someone working on it."
Albus nodded thoughtfully, "Well, you have to remember Harry, that it's a very complicated area, and few are willing to do research as it often requires volunteers. The scope for accidents is wide. They do have people working on these things, just not on definite cures. Remember Harry, that not even we have a cure for cancer, just expert means of dealing with it."
Harry conceded, daring to have another spoonful of soup.
"So…I was talking to Severus yesterday." Harry choked again, putting his spoon down, resigned to not being able to eat.
"Mm hmm?" Harry acknowledged, but refused to say anything until the headmaster elaborated.
"He told me what happened." Albus said softly, the kitchen seemed suddenly hot around Harry, who remained silent.
"I have to confess," Albus carried on, "That I had knowledge of his feeling for you for some time, but only an incline of yours."
This surprised Harry, Dumbledore admitting to not knowing something!
"I have to say, that I'm very sorry for the situation you have found yourself in." Harry looked up at him then and sent a questioning frown his way. "Well, it all sounds very confusing from what Severus told me." Harry felt his cheeks redden and he looked back at the desk. "To find yourself attracted to someone whom you don't know."
There was a heavy silence in which Harry tried to eat his soup again and found himself unable to do so, so he ended up playing with it, lifting the spoon up and turning it over so that it splashed back into the bowl.
"What will you do?" Albus asked quietly.
Harry let go of the spoon, letting it fall and clatter in the bowl as he rubbed his face with his hands. "I don't know." He confessed, "I know I can't control what I feel, you can no longer ask someone to change their emotions than you can ask them to change the stars." His arms fell either side of his bowl and Harry stared down at it with blurry eyes. "I need to remember. I need to know him. But I don't think there's any way of getting my memories back, and it would take years to catch up on what I've missed."
Harry waved to a house elf who trotted over and took the bowl from Harry, asking if there were anything else he would like, Harry shook his head.
"I just…I need time, I need to figure this out, to make sense of everything. I need to help myself. But!" Harry said sharply, seeing the way the headmaster opened his mouth to say his piece. "I'm not going to isolate myself, I need help of that I'm sure and as far as I know, Severus is excellent at research and I'm sure he'll help."
Harry's confession seemed to appease him.
Harry played with his hands, picking at the nails. "I need him Albus, no matter where I turn or what I do, I still need him. In some way."
"You just remember that Harry." Dumbledore said softly, "We're all here to help."
"I know," Harry replied. They sat in silence for a long time, disturbed only by the soft clink as the headmaster rested his cup in the saucer. They weren't bothered by the house elves again, not even to clean away the tea set after the headmaster had quietly left the table with a soft farewell.
"Albus." The headmaster was nearly at the door when Harry called to him, he stopped and turned slowly, looking at the young man still sat at the table.
Harry looked up at him. "Tell me about him."
Albus smiled softly and walked back to his seat.
IVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVI
It was about ten when Hermione finally made it round. Harry had called her earlier from Albus' office and requested her services. She'd said she'd look straight into it, remarking on why she hadn't thought of it sooner as they held all the medical text books for doctors and nurses in training. She'd also said she'd be around straight away. Which was also the reason he'd been lolling around on the couch for the last three hours watching Coronation Street and Emmerdale, wondering where the hell she was and should he call her at home in case something had happened.
But she was here now, arms laden with books and bags full. "Sorry I'm late." She beamed at him as she walked past him and into the living room leaving Harry a little flustered in her wake. He followed her through in time to see her drop half a rainforest onto his couch.
"Oh, thank God, those were really heavy." She shook her arms out and pushed her hair back whilst taking off her coat. "So," She started brightly, "What did you come up with today."
Harry was a little stunned at the immediate start. "Umm," he stuttered, looking around the room trying to find his bag where he'd left his notebook. "Not much to be honest, there was only so much at the school library, most of those books are hundreds of years old. It's probably the only reason Albus keeps them." He flipped through the book, "I got a few good notes though, not sure how helpful they may be." He handed it over when she motioned to him, muttering 'let me see'.
"Tea?" he asked and she nodded. He meandered into the kitchen as she settled herself down on the couch occasionally saying things like 'I thought so' and 'Good idea'. Harry enjoyed having her round, it felt a lot like old times and the sudden crushing feeling of having to sort all this out alone had lifted. If there was one thing you could say about Hermione, it was her determination. She would never stop until she found a solution.
When he made it back through, two cups of tea in his hands, she was half hidden behind one of the medical text books with a couple left open on the table.
"I was looking at your notes." She said in way of explanation, a quiet thank you on her lips as Harry handed her the mug. "This name, I've heard before." She said, tapping the notebook where he'd scrawled Califur's name. Harry raised his eyebrows speculatively and took a sip of his tea.
"Yes, he's come up a couple of times in research." She flipped a few pages into the text book, cross referencing the index; finally she smiled and hefted the book round for Harry to look. He took a seat on the sofa and dragged the book into his lap, looking where Hermione's finger was pointing.
"I assume you found something along the lines of this at Hogwarts?" she asked him. Harry nodded, what she'd found was basically a dense, fact ridden version of the basics he read earlier.
They sat in quiet reflection as Harry read through the chapter and Hermione occasionally peered over his shoulder when he got a little excited.
This was it, their main lead. It detailed the work he was doing, how he was doing it and even listed a couple of references at the end for those who wished to do further reading. Harry was grinning from ear to ear when he'd finished and looked expectantly at Hermione.
"Oh my God." He said, pointing to the text he'd just read. "This has everything."
"It looks like it," Hermione said, but she wore a slight frown. "But remember Harry, that its all conjuncture, none of his work was ever proven to work, and the research was never taken up by another person, not even the guild thought it was worth the effort." She warned.
"So." He argued, "That doesn't mean it never worked, it was only one case and they chased him out the country before anything could be proved or disproved."
"But who are you going to get to do this Harry? It's dangerous research." Hermione backed.
"But most of it's been done for us, all we need to do is get our hands on his journals, it'll have everything in there." Harry exclaimed.
"It's ministry protected research Harry," Hermione said, sitting forward to show Harry the small print beneath the references. "It's being held by the Guild for safety, it's not something anyone can get at. You have to have all sorts of research grants and papers before you'll be able to read a word of it."
"Well, what about Severus?" Harry asked.
"What about him?"
"He's a member of the guild isn't he?"
Hermione looked at the carpet, a hard look on her face, "Only just, he only got his position back last year."
Harry frowned, "Why? What happened?"
Hermione looked at him in a sort of shocked confusion, as though she couldn't understand why he'd just said what he did. "The war happened Harry, Everyone found out about him being a death eater, the scandal was huge, it was in every paper."
"Well….so?" Harry sputtered, he'd known that since his fourth year but he'd known the reasons behind it.
"Harry, people weren't so trusting back then. Everyone had just been betrayed by the ministry, they felt that with more warning people would have had a better chance. There were people left right and centre being caught and making out they were under foreign influences." Hermione explained, "There was a time when all the attacks were potion based, some really nasty stuff was released, right at the same time someone leaked information to the press."
"Yeah, but Albus would have explained that!" Harry said.
"Of course he did, but do you think many people believed him, even after the war and the trials, he remained a death eater to so many people. There was a time when Severus couldn't even leave the castle, people were actually asking for him to stand trial and execution." She finished vehemently, as though the injustice still disgusted her to this day.
"Christ." Harry whispered. "I thought I had it hard." He stared down at the book. He remembered having such a hard time at school trying to convince people that he wasn't some sort of hero, couldn't be nice all the time, that was bad enough. But how do you convince people you're good when all you have to show for your actions was death and defilement. Who would believe you?
Harry had the sudden undeniable need to see him, he wanted to say something to him, to apologise for all the years when he'd been a biased idiot because all he'd judged the man on was the front he put forward. It must have been such a hard life to live, in constant shadows and clouds of hate.
"Sometimes…" Harry muttered quietly, "I'm glad I can't remember."
Hermione looked at him with something akin to sympathy in her eyes. "Me too Harry." She whispered, "Sometimes I wondered how you could still be sane after everything you'd been through." She smiled softly to herself, her only defence against the wave of horror that still rose within her when her thoughts strayed too far back.
Silence permeated his living room as Hermione curled up on the couch, mug cradled in her hand as she stared out of the window, her eyes unseeing, looking inward. Harry quietly folded down the corner of the page and shut the book, leaning back in the chair as he let the silence pass over him.
He was suddenly struck with a thought. What was he doing this for? What did he need from this. He'd already filled in the gaps, had countless people to question to his hearts content. Did he really want to go back and stir up the past, to gain fresh evidence, to add fuel to sleepless nights and flashbacks?
"Jesus." He exclaimed about ten minutes later, "We are such a pair of morose bastards!" he looked over at Hermione who was looking blankly at him before her face cracked into a wide grin and she giggled a bit.
"Yeah," she agreed, nodding her head and placing her now empty mug on the table. "So." She dusted her hands in a meaningful way, "Where to from here?" she looked at Harry seriously.
Harry stared down at the book in his hands, knowing that no matter how many other books he looked at, none would provide such an option as this. "I think I'm going to talk to Severus as soon as he gets out of hospital." Harry said, gravity in his voice.
"If you think this is the best option?" Hermione said, her tone sounding like she was trying to talk him out of it.
"It is." Harry said, looking up at her, "I know it is, I can feel it."
Hermione frowned at him, knowing her dislike of divination in any shape or form Harry tipped his head and shrugged. "And I'll be with Severus, what can go wrong?"
Hermione looked as though she was about to say that everything could go wrong but the hope on Harry's face belayed her from doing so.
IVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVI
"So how is he?" Harry asked the headmaster a couple of days later when the man came to see him.
"Oh fine, he always is." Albus replied, tossing some bread to the ducks as they swarmed around him. Harry considered the man out of the corner of his eye, wondering what kind of spells the man had cast to keep people from staring at his odd appearance.
"Hmmm." Harry nodded his approval "I wanted to ask him a favour, but I wasn't sure if he'd be up to it." Harry told the other man.
Albus looked at him. "Well, I was going to stop by his after I'd seen you, I can take you with me if you want?"
"Oh, no." Harry said quickly, "I wouldn't want to bother him while he's resting."
Albus laughed quietly, "This is Severus, I doubt he's resting." He sounded like he knew what he was talking about. He turned back to the ducks. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind the visit, contrary to what he'll tell you he does get lonely sometimes."
Harry stared at the ducks clambering by his feet, moving his foot a little so that one of them could get to a piece of bread that was too close to his shoe. "Maybe." He muttered. He really did need to talk to him, anxious to get started on something so important. But the memories of the other day kept swimming back. He wasn't even sure how he would act around him, both knowing what they know.
"You said you needed to get to know him better." Albus chipped in.
"I know." Harry agreed. "I just feel…awkward."
"Well of course you will." Albus said gently, "Anyone would after a conversation like that. Best thing you can do is just carry on as normal. If you allow any embarrassment to dominate any feelings you have for him, then you're just waiting for it to all fall apart." He looked at Harry, "Just go and see him, ask him for his help, it doesn't need to be anything more than that."
Harry nodded, the headmaster's words had done nothing the ease the feeling of eels in his stomach.
"We'll go when the bread's run out." The headmaster told him cheerfully, holding up the half empty bag of bread that Harry had given him earlier.
Harry nodded, trying not to roll his eyes as Albus went back to his talking and feeding, the entire flock clamouring for his attention.
IVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVIVI
They arrived shortly after two, Harry's head reeling from the apparition as they made their way up the drive. They got to the door and Albus let himself in. Harry had the impression that there was probably a lot of spells locking the door, but there wasn't much you could do to keep the headmaster out.
"Severus!" the old man shouted, his voice very loud in the open hallway. Snape's house was large, but not overly so. He lived in a small hamlet not far from a busy town, in an area that was dominated by wealthy, quiet types so he fit in perfectly. Harry looked around a little, at the large windows that let in an awful lot of light, and the cream décor that was so very unlike Severus. It seemed that the house was an exact opposite of the man's personality. "Severus?" Albus called again.
"What?" came the exasperated cry from down the hall. Harry got the impression that they had probably dragged the man away from something important. Albus winked at him cheekily.
"We've just come to see how you are?" he called, his shout pointless as Severus had just rounded the corner, wiping his hands on a small towel, his eyes shooting straight to Harry who gave him a brief smile and hefted the books he'd brought higher into his arms.
"I'm fine." He spoke to Albus, but his eyes were still on Harry.
"Good." The headmaster enthused, "Because Harry had a favour to ask."
For a brief moment the other man's gaze flickered to the headmaster and then back again. Harry felt himself begin to flush under the stare and looked down at the books he was holding.
"Yeah, umm." He started lamely, trying to put his words in order, "Hermione and I did some research, and we've…I mean I, well, we kind of came up with a plan." He looked up at Severus, "But we're going to need your help…if that's okay."
Severus seemed to look at him for the longest time, an odd look in his eye as he assessed Harry. "Of course." He said, as though he couldn't see the reason Harry should bother to ask. "What kind of help do you need?"
Harry opened his mouth to speak, his books slipping slightly in his arms but the headmaster cut him off. "Is it okay if I take a wonder around you garden Severus, there's a couple things I wouldn't mind getting a hand on, for my own little experiments." He gave a theatrical wink at Severus who just looked at him and made a 'do what you want' kind of gesture. Albus looked far too happy with himself and doubled back to a side door which he disappeared through, humming.
"Not entirely subtle is he?" Severus remarked dryly as soon as he had left, he snapped the towel he was holding over his shoulder and took a couple of books from the pile Harry was holding.
"Not really." Harry agreed, grateful to be spared the weight and blushing madly at the blunt statement.
Severus looked the title of the books he was holding and shifted a glance at Harry. "We're going to need the lab for this one aren't we?" he questioned him.
Harry nodded frankly, "Yes, yes we are."
He followed when Severus jerked his head back in the direction that he'd come from, through a set of doors and across a large airy room with a piano at one end. It looked like an old ballroom to Harry and he found himself wondering what kind of life Severus lived here in these empty rooms. They reached a short corridor and he was shown in the first door which lead through to a modest sized room that looked uncannily like a science laboratory.
Harry hadn't really known what to expect. When he thought of potions he could always remember those cold, dark halls and classrooms from school. Had always associated them with that. But this was light, and clean and bright. All the equipment that stood on the sides looked new and modern instead of the old cauldrons they'd had. Harry took it all in, looking around himself in obvious wonderment.
"Shall I take those?" Severus offered, startling Harry. He took the books from him and put them down on a central table that was already piled at one end with various books and scrolls stacked neatly on a rack. Harry thanked him and took a step back wiping his hands as Severus picked them up one by one and looked through them.
Harry rubbed his hands together. Albus had told him it would be fine as soon as he was here, but it wasn't, there was something still wriggling about his stomach. He took a deeper breath, careful not to draw attention as he watched the other man, took in every nuance as his hands skated over the yellowing pages. He watched the way that the sun from the side windows threw his face into reflection, it's warmth flowing over pale skin and black hair in a path Harry's fingers itched to follow.
It was a stupid idea, he realised, only knowing it now. How was he supposed to work with this man when he felt funny just watching him read. It wasn't going to work.
"Did Hermione write this up?" Harry looked at the sheet of paper that Severus was holding that outlined their plan and methods.
"Yes." Harry replied quietly.
"I thought so." Harry frowned, "She's written me a note at the bottom asking me to get you to see sense." He passed it over to Harry when indignation set across his face. Sure enough, she had scribbled a quick note at the bottom of the page. Harry tutted and threw the paper back on the table.
"She doesn't think I should do it." Harry scowled at the letter.
"I'm not surprised." Severus said. He piled up the books one on top of each other and looked at Harry gravely. "Harry, this is very dangerous." He said darkly.
"I know." Harry said softly, "But it looks like my only option."
Severus sighed then, looking away. "There are other options Harry, what you were taking before…"
"Wasn't working!" Harry said loudly. Severus looked up. "It was doing nothing but making me dizzy and giving me headaches."
"But you remembered." Severus countered.
"Probably by chance." Harry argued back. "There was no correlation to those memories and me taking that potion."
"Then we can research that." Severus put in smoothly, "But this…" he put his hands on the books, "This Harry is suicide. I know this man's work, I don't think you know what consequences there would be if it went wrong."
"If!" Harry exclaimed, "If it went wrong!"
"Stop clutching at the positive Harry." Severus came back, his voice tired and said in such a way that Harry recognized the familiar tone the man used, as though he'd said this in many arguments before. Harry closed his mouth, feeling a little out of the loop. He looked away.
"This is what I want to do." He said quietly. "Are you going to help me?" his voice sounded far too hard but he couldn't help the way it came out. He noticed Severus staring at him out of the corner if his eye.
"I can't." he replied softly.
Harry whipped his head round, eyes full of question.
"It's too dangerous Harry, were something to go wrong, then any number of things could happen. And I'm not happy taking those risks."
Harry looked him over and nodded, disappointment making his heart sink. "Okay." He muttered, stepping forward and gathering the load of books into his arm, "I'm sorry I bothered you."
"Harry, where are you going?" Severus put a hand on his arm.
"To find Albus, I need him to apparate me home." Harry said simply.
"Harry, look, don't go." He pulled a little on Harry's arm, "We can look into other options."
"I've looked!" Harry came back, "And Hermione, she spent hours looking at the medical texts at this is the only viable option we have open to us."
"But…"
"Look." Harry stopped at the entrance to the ballroom. "This is what I'm going to do." He looked up at Severus whose face was dark in the doorway, "I had thought that maybe you would help me." Harry couldn't help the disappointment permeating his voice and he hated himself for sounding like a child.
"I do want to help you Harry." Severus replied strongly, "But this vein of research is dead, it died years ago and for good reason."
"But you could do it." Harry breathed, "I trust you."
Severus stood straight, his gaze wondering off around the room while his mind thought of something to say, racing as it was, at a thousand thoughts a second. He looked down at Harry.
"I don't want to be the one responsible for losing you." He said quietly.
Harry shook his head. "I want you to be the one responsible for saving me." He looked hopefully. "And besides," He added softly, "We need you." He caught the frown, "You're a member of the guild, only you can get us Califurs work." He explained.
Severus folded his arms. "Thought all this out have you?" he asked darkly.
"Well yes!" Harry said, "I thought you would help, it was an obvious solution." He pulled the books up, "I had kind of hoped you would, considering…" Harry's stomach lurched as soon as he'd said it, as he watched that familiar flicker of hurt pass across his face, his eyes falling to the floor. Harry had sworn to himself he wouldn't use that card.
"It's especially 'considering' that I don't want to." He looked up at Harry with a sadness in his eyes. "I'm not sure I would feel comfortable holding your life in my hands with that. My judgement is clouded."
"But I trust you." Harry said with vehemence, "Why else would I come to you, I've come to the best, who I know would hold my interests at heart." He felt himself blush. "I came to you because I want somebody who wouldn't see me as a client, or a patient, I came to you because you're my friend." Harry's voice cracked a little and he sucked in a deep breath, fixing Severus with his own stare. "I came to you because I. need. you."
And suddenly it was about much more that the potion and the research. It was suddenly about what they had left behind in a warm, stuffy hospital bedroom no more than a week ago. They looked at each other with different strings of emotion running through their minds.
But Severus could recognize this for what it was. The first step, if he backed out on Harry now, then it could rip apart any sort of delicate balance they may have reached, if he walked away, he could lose Harry. Resigned, he broke their silence with a pained sigh and stepped forward, taking the books from Harry.
"Thank you." Harry whispered to his back as he turned towards the lab.
Severus looked back over his shoulder, at the way Harry rubbed at his eyes beneath his hair. "Don't thank me yet."