Chapter Four

A missed birthday

The return from Diagon Alley had been uneventful. Despite Harry's assertions that he had been fine the entire trip, Severus could clearly see he was pale and happy to be home. Augurey had been waiting for them when they returned through the fireplace looking anxious, if Demiguises could look anxious. He had disappeared as soon as he had seen Harry safely transformed back into himself.

Harry had sunk down into an armchair and remained there for the rest of the afternoon. Severus ordered tea and settled nearby with a book stolen from the library shelves. Though he turned each page dutifully his sharp eyes focussed mostly on his main concern. Harry stared at the table and the hot tea which sat there without making a move towards it. Occasionally he rubbed his shoulder absently and winced at his own touch. The third such movement irritated Severus enough for him to lower his book and growl,

"If it hurts why do you insist on touching it?" Harry's hand froze and then dropped to his lap. Licking his lips he looked like he had been caught in the act of stealing a cookie from the jar.

"I...I don't know."

"What happened?" His terse words covered concern that any pain might indicate the return of an unwanted presence.

"The witch...in Diagon Alley. When she ran into me," Harry said quietly.

"So fix it. Are you a wizard or not?" The sweat which had gathered on Harry's brow earlier left him coated in a light glean. The act of transforming appeared to have exhausted his remaining strength.

"I don't know how. I never learnt healing magic," the younger man replied, looking away to close the matter.

"Hmph." Severus stared sharply at Harry for another few moments but finally turned back to his book, mind racing. It baffled him that Harry could have lost powers granted to him by the creatures simply because Voldemort had been exhumed from his body. Creatures were far more intuitive than humans and he was almost certain they would not have attached their gifts to Voldemort's essence rather than Harry's.

Not to mention, Severus thought, perplexed, the fact that he had seen Harry using wandless magic in the pensieve far before Voldemort had possessed him. How could all that power have been torn away from him? Was it just his body being exhausted from the removal of such an evil force? Or, more fearfully, had Voldemort done real damage as he attempted to overtake Harry completely. Perhaps the man would never regain his normal powers again.

He looked like an old man hunched over in his chair by the light of the torches, not a sixteen year old boy. Severus blinked and checked his facts. It was August, not July. Harry had missed his seventeenth birthday.

"You are seventeen," he observed quietly. Harry looked surprised at the topic.

"Yes. I feel older."

"I don't doubt." He had dealt with almost as much as Dumbledore. Severus longed to wipe the haunted look from Harry's eyes. Getting to his feet he moved closer, all too aware of the suspicious eyes which turned to him as he did so. As though he had forced himself to, or chided himself for his reaction, Harry calmed. "I can help with your shoulder."

"Oh..right, yeah." Harry shrugged off his shirt to reveal a nasty bruise breaking through the surface. It had bloomed quickly enough that Severus suspected the injury went down to the bone. Resting a gentle hand on it Severus waved his wand several times before resting the tip gently on the bruise. Despite his care, Harry winced again. It might have been Severus' imagination but he also though he was leaning into the hand on his shoulder. Just in case he was right, he gave the skin a very gentle squeeze.

"Would you like to have a...gathering to celebrate your birthday?" The muscles under his hand stiffened violently and Harry's face took on a combined look of horror and fear.

"I ... no..."

"You have come of age, it is an important event," Severus continued levelly, pretending not to have noticed. "Although you may not wish to have a large group over. Perhaps Granger and Weasley would suffice? I cannot believe they would want the moment to pass unmarked."

"I don't..." Fear ran rampant over Harry's face and suddenly his shoulder slumped and his head dropped a little. "I suppose. All right."

"All right?" Severus probed suspiciously, concerned by the change of mind.

"Yeah. Yes, sir." An emotion played on Harry's face which took a moment for Severus to pin down. Shame.

"Very well. I will request their presence. How does your shoulder feel now?" Reluctantly, Severus removed his hand from the skin as Harry reached up to press at the disappearing bruise.

"Better, thanks." Staring hard at the ground, Harry refused to meet Severus' eyes. The professor fought his urge to demand attention in several inappropriate ways and returned to his chair.

It had taken hours for Harry to fall asleep that night. It was well past midnight when Severus finally had time to retire to the library and use the fireplace to call Hermione. Briefly, he considered that it might be ill-mannered to wake the girl so late but dismissed it for fear that Harry might change his mind once more. He had already spent most of the night wandering up and down the room changing from yes to no. Severus was not certain he could stand to hear,

"Well...I suppose..yes, yes," again before he completely unleashed Professor Snape on the young man. He could not abide such unnecessary rambling.

"So I can assume you will both arrive here promptly tomorrow morning at ten o'clock," he said, attempting to finalise what had been a lengthily and rambling conversation.

"Oh...maybe not...I er..." Ron stammered, flicking his eyes to Hermione.

"Oh for goodness sakes, Ron! This is an enormous step for Harry and we aren't going to refuse to see him," she snapped impatiently. Turning to her with pain in his eyes, Ron hesitated for a moment before saying,

"But...Hermione he...Voldemort killed Ginny. Harry tried to kill your parents."

"Potter was possessed," Severus snarled furiously. "It was not him and it certainly was not his fault. If you are going to continue to act like a child it is just as well if you do not come." Frowning at him, Hermione shook her head slightly to stop him continuing his tirade and turned her attention to Ron, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"It's just Harry, Ron. Just Harry who you met the first day you went to Hogwarts. You played quidditch together. Also, he does not have the powers he had while he was ... from before." Seeing Ron was still hesitant and realising this would have to be a far longer conversation to reassure him, Hermione squeezed his shoulder again and dropped her hand. "We will be there, Professor."

"Fine," Severus growled. His head disappeared from the fire for a moment before returning. Hesitantly he said, "If it would make you feel better, I will remain tomorrow." Ron laughed bitterly and Hermione frowned at him.

"It is very kind of you to offer, Professor, but we will be fine. Although it might make Harry feel more comfortable." Severus furrowed his brow.

"What do you mean, Granger?"

"My conversation with him worried me," she shrugged. "I'm not entirely convinced that he will be comfortable with us there tomorrow."

"I think he will be fine," Severus said, quietly making a note to suss Harry out for himself and attempt to learn what he had spoken with Hermione about. "Weasley, I would think you would be pleased to see Potter, since you were so eager to see him when he was hospitalised." Ron did not reply, his face closing over, but instead turned and walked away from the fireplace. The guilty look on Hermione's face told Severus all he needed to know about Ron's presence in the Hospital Wing.

"Try not to entirely traumatise Potter tomorrow," he sighed, before closing their connection.

Severus had excused himself early that morning to attend to things at Hogwarts, leaving a very nervous Harry in Birch Hall to await the arrival of his friends. Harry took up residence in his study, attempting to read a tome on the history of animagi without really taking it in. Augurey had looked in on him but had quickly left again when his presence had only drawn a distressed look from the young man. Dobby had tried to force some breakfast into him but Harry had flatly refused.

When the first noises came from the animals of the forest alerting him to the presence of his humans approaching Harry's heart began to race. Wiping sweating palms on his jeans, Harry shut his book and attempted to straighten his hair. The walk down the stairs went by too quickly for his liking, though it was a long way. The knock on the door coincided with his arrival in the Entrance Hall. Waiting for a few beats and wiping his hands again, Harry opened it wide.

Hermione and Ron waited for him. The former with an enormous smiled on her face, so tightly pulled that it looked almost painful. Ron's face was twisted into a forced smile which looked more like he had a toothache. His hands jittered slightly and Harry was not unaware of how his right hand hovered over his wand pocket. Taking note, he actively kept his hands within sight.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, launching forward to hug him. Flinching, Harry forced himself not to pull his wand in instinct as the girl realised her mistake in time to halt face-to-face with him. "Sorry. I don't want to squash the cake," she lied quickly, side-stepping him.

"Cake?" Harry asked dubiously.

"It's your birthday," she chirped. "Speaking of which, happy birthday."

"Thank you." Harry looked at Ron who was rocking back on his heels, prepared to run away long before he stepped over the threshold into Harry's home territory. Thinking of Severus and how pleased he had seemed when Harry had agreed to this meeting, the young man swallowed his anxiety and offered his hand to the redhead. Eying it suspiciously, Ron slowly reached out to shake it.

"Yeah, happy birthday."

"Thanks." Ron's palm was as sweaty as his, Harry noticed with concern as his pulse raced once more. A frightened person was a dangerous person and his instincts were sending up red flags all over the place. Ron edged his way into the house, looking as though he was signing his death warrant as he did so. Sadly, Hermione considered that their equal jumpiness would be amusing if the situation were not so serious.

"We brought presents," she chipped in when Harry appeared bewildered as to what to do next. "Maybe we could sit somewhere?"

"Yeah...here." The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he turned away from Ron who Harry could feel the anger pulsing off of. Endeavouring to place himself at risk for as short a time as possible, he led them into the Great Hall which was the closest room with seats. Immediately turning back to the pair, Harry slid into a chair on one side of the table and watched as Ron carefully positioned himself diagonally across from him, closer to the door. After a moment of hesitation, Hermione seemed to settle on a compromise and sat directly across from Harry.

"We brought gifts from a few other people, Harry. They wanted to wish you a happy birthday too." Harry said nothing, glancing up the room at all the empty chairs. He wished suddenly and with surprising ferocity that Severus had remained behind that day. At least having him in the room would allow Harry some certainty that someone would have his back if anything went wrong. Silence greeting her and Ron staring hard at the table with a slight stain on his cheeks left Hermione wishing quietly for the same thing. "This is from Professor Dumbledore, this from Hagrid – he promised it wasn't food, Professor McGonagall, this is from the Weasleys..." Hermione trailed off as she saw Harry's shocked expression. His mouth was slightly open as he stared at the pile of presents piling up before him and appeared dangerously close to tears. Swallowing slightly, he glanced to one side.

"I'll open them later, thanks."

"Oh, sure," Hermione said overly-brightly. "We also brought cake."

"I just had breakfast," Harry lied. Silence fell and Hermione found herself in the rare situation of having nothing to say. Ron's presence dampened all of her ability to make easy conversation with Harry as she had the last time she had visited.

"You know, I would really love a tour of Birch Hall. It's so enormous I'm certain I haven't seen a quarter of it."

"Oh. All right then," Harry said, quashing his immediate unease that he was being lured off into a trap. Sensing his unhappiness, Hermione prodded Ron to step up beside Harry so he would remain in the other boy's field of vision. Harry showed them from room to room with very little commentary, answering politely when Hermione chatted kindly to him and asked questions about each room. Ron occasionally spoke when Hermione addressed a question to him, but offered no opinion of his own until one thing perked his interest.

"This is the pitch," Harry offered unnecessarily, digging his hands into his pockets and fingering his wand to try and comfort himself. It was a large oval which had long ago had old-fashioned quidditch rings of unsanded wood erected. It did not have any stands but was circled by the trees of the forest instead.

"It's regulation size," Ron said, straining not to sound too impressed.

"It was here when I moved in," Harry said. Rubbing at his arm he tried to remember how he used to talk to Ron before he was possessed. Quidditch seemed like such a good place to start but for the life of him Harry could not have even said if the Professional season was over.

"We could play some quidditch?" Ron suggested rather tentatively. The way he peered at Harry sideways suggested there was something more to his question. It was pressing to see if this Harry was anything like the Harry he used to know. Harry did not want to. He had no desire to play quidditch and even less to attempt to fly again. It did feel like something from a past life, the fierce joy he used to feel on a broom had surely vanished once the taint of Voldemort had touched him. Saying no to Ron, who looked pained to have made a suggestion which would put him in such a vulnerable position, was a sure way to lose his friend forever though. With a slightly rueful smile at Hermione who smiled back, appearing to understand how he was feeling, he said,

"Sure." Pulling out his wand, Harry grimaced and put it back in his pocket. His reaction was not helped by Ron's pallor at the sudden movement. "Dobby." Dobby appeared with a pop! "Could you please fetch us three...two brooms?" Harry amended his speech seeing the shake of Hermione's head. Love Harry dearly as she did, flying was one area she had no intention of venturing back into after her disastrous first few attempts. Kicking around on the ground for a minute Harry found a pair of rocks and handed them to Hermione who promptly transformed one into a quaffle and the second into a bludger.

"I'll wait until you're in the air to send it off," she said, placing it lightly to one side. Dobby reappeared at that moment carrying Harry's Firebolt and a worse-for-wear Nimbus 2001. Harry waited a moment but seeing that Ron would not choose a broom before he had, took his Firebolt. At his movement, Ron grabbed the second broom and took off into the air with the quaffle under his arm. Harry stared dubiously at his broom for a moment before attempting to swing his leg over it. Wincing in pain, his leg thumped back to the ground. Gritting his teeth he managed to clamber on on his second try and rubbed his leg furiously for a moment. Kicking off with difficulty Harry found himself in the air and was so surprised he thought he might fall off.

A feeling, like a memory from a past life, filled his chest. His head rushed with wind and happiness. Dropping down he pulled out of the dive instinctively and was not filled with the horrible feeling of wanting to continue heading for the ground that he had dealt with so often before. Twisting around Harry lapped the field twice before he realised he had company. Surprised at how clear and happy he felt, he flew to a decent height and raised a hand to signal he was ready. Ron tossed the quaffle as high as he could and they both flew for it. Harry grabbed it out of the air, trying to ignore the way Ron flinched when he got closed and leaned forward over his broom as he headed for the opposite end of the pitch.

Harry's throw was almost half-hearted as he aimed at the hoops. When Ron dashed out of nowhere to grab it from the air he looked as surprised as Harry was. For a moment they peered at one another uncertainly before Ron bolted up towards the other end of the pitch. With a fierce grin, Harry turned his broom and shot off after him. It was beginning to feel as though they had never left Hogwarts. Ron scored and Harry took possession, not hesitating this time as he threw the quaffle through the hoop.

He felt exuberant. He felt free. He felt like Harry.

Joyfully he swooped through the air, chasing Ron down and intercepting the quaffle as often as he could. The distinctive memory of chasing after the golden snitch, the Hogwarts crowd roaring in his ears. Rushing by with those memories came the memories of classes, the simple times of homework and late-night essay writing. Dinners and lunches in the Great Hall, daytime by the lake. Thinking the worst thing in the world was the presence of Snape looming up behind him as he attempted to brew a potion.

Snape. Severus. Protection, safety.

"Woah," Ron yelled as Harry threw the quaffle straight to him. The ball struck his fingertips then fell straight down to the ground. Simultaneously, the boys burst out into laughter at the goofed easy catch. They both fell silent immediately in surprise, each looking at the other as though they might bite. After a few minutes of this bewildered, uncomfortable silence, Hermione called up to them,

"How about we have some cake now?"

"Sounds good," Ron agreed, clearly more at ease than he had been prior to their impromptu quidditch match. Despite this, he waited until Harry began his decent to turn and drop down after him.

The day passed slowly, but pleasantly once the ice had been broken. They had shared the cake Hermione brought, even including Dobby and Augurey though Harry had flinched to have the pair seated with them. Ron ventured to fill Harry in on a few events in the Quidditch league, bringing him up to date with the Cannons who were doing far better than usual. Hermione looked at them with tears in her eyes and risked a strong hug as they left. Ron even ventured to shake his hand.

Harry sank into bed that night with a single thought whirling through his head. It seemed impossible, especially without Severus by his side, but maybe it wasn't. Maybe, life could go back to how it was.

A/N: Not dead yet! As always, this story will be finished.