Chapter 3

Harry closed the door gently behind him. The long room of many beds was quiet. All but one bed was empty. A few beds away from the front door, blinds were drawn around it. It was obvious someone was occupying that bed.

"Snape…"

Harry thought to himself. Harry walked as quietly as possible to the bed. Light footfalls can be heard with every step Harry took. Not enough to wake anyone but enough to let anyone awake know of his presence.

Remembering all the times Harry was in this infirmary over the years, he remembered that if the blinds we drawn, it meant "I want privacy" but before he closed the door, Headmistress McGonagall nodded, acknowledging that it was okay to continue.

Harry reached the drawn blinds and stood there. Before it was a thick wooden door separating him from Snape, now it was thin fabric.

"Well, here goes something" he thought to himself.

Harry took a deep breath and closed his eyes in fear.

"Professor?"

Silence. Then a shift of movement in bedding came from the other side. He was there and most likely awake.

"Professor Snape? It-It's me, H-Harry."

Still silence. Even with the blind separating them, Harry can feel those eyes on him. Those dark, always angry eyes.

"I…I'm Sorry…I'm sorry for everything…"

There was no turning back now. Harry has opened Pandora's Box and he wishes he can run away. His heart was racing again. Panic attacks were common for Harry now days. After the war, he was unsurprisingly diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Through intense counselling with Madam Pomfrey and mindfulness exercises, he can now live a somewhat normal day to day life but this…he wasn't ready for this. He's only known about Snape for an hour! It feels like he's talking to his grave again.

"I don't know what to do or say or feel or think! But all I know is that I'm sorry for the hell that I've put you through Professor. I'm so sorry!"

Bravery can only hold back so much. Feeling small, like a young child, he began to cry again. Harry had never cried in front of a Professor) before (With the exception of the final task in his fourth year) and today he has cried in the presence of two.

"Potter…"

That deep, smooth voice finally spoke. Sounding both foreign and familiar at the same time only made Harry cry harder until finally breaking.

"You died in my arms! I-I couldn't save you! I didn't even know you were on our side, but I wanted to save you! I don't know why! I thought I hated you but now…I'm…I'm so confused Professor!"

"Potter…You may enter."

Breathing stopped and eyes opened wide, letting stray tears fall to the ground. Harry knew better than to question Professor Snape about his decisions. Still, he felt uncertain.

"Okay…"

It felt as though the only thing that existed in this room at that moment was Harry's hard beating heart, his shaking hand and the thin fabric in front of him. Harry took in a deep breath, slowly lifted his hand. His fingertips touching the fabric. After one more final breath and in one gentle swing, it was like when Harry opens his bedroom blind, letting the morning sun brighten his dark room. It took a moment for blurry vision to settle.

In front of Harry Potter, a tall, lanky man and his long black hair tied up with a few stray hairs hanging on the sides of his face, in a dark grey hospital gown, holding what looked like a potions book in one hand. Harry, not knowing what to say or do or feel, felt a small smile grow on his face. Tears still pouring and probably looking like a mess but smiling. Snape looked at the youth in front of him, eyebrow lifted in curiosity.

"Hey Professor." Harry said with a shaken voice.

"Good afternoon to you too Mr. Potter."

Harry, still feeling brave noticed a chair beside Snape's bed and decided to sit down. Snape said nothing.

Now sitting down, Harry realized that they were at the same level, eye contact will be direct and equal. No one looking down on a student, no one looking down on a dying man.

"Professor, can I stay here for a while?"

Snape returned to his book and continued reading.

"I suppose."

The two sat beside each other in half awkward and half comfortable silence. Harry, rehearsing in his head what to say and thinking what is higher priority and what is appropriate to say. After over an hour of silence, it was Professor Snape that broke the silence. He closed his book and put it down beside him.

"The potion, it was the first time I had used it. So new that I hadn't even given it a name yet. It would have taken too long to make an antidote, so I made something else instead. It detects when adrenalin levels are at a certain high, it puts the drinker in a deep sleep. Almost stopping the heart completely. That way the only thing the body needs to focus on besides providing oxygen to the rest of the vital organs at its most minimum is fighting off any poison or venom that may be in the body. I took the potion earlier that day."

Hoarse in voice, Harry asked:

"But I looked for your body…you were gone! Only ash was left behind…I thought you…"

Severus Snape only now realising that the boy who lived was taking his "death" harder than he ever thought possible, presuming the young Potter boy would have danced and sung rather shake and cry.

"That was an unpredicted interaction with the potion and apparition, apparently the potion burns clothes and body hair when appariting under the influence."

Harry, taking in this information visualised this scenario, then only after realising he was thinking about a naked Snape did the red across his cheeks stop him in his thought. Snape, seeing the red, scoffed.

"Oh grow up Potter, yes, teachers get naked, they don't live in their clothing!"

Harry's whole face started burning redder than a Weasley's hair. Snape rolled his eyes and looked at the boy. It was the first time he saw the boy this embarrassed. His head down in possible shame, his shoulders high from shyness, his hands holding themselves into a tight ball in between the boy's legs. When looking at the hands, it was then Snape noticed a small lump coming from the boy's pants. He turned his head away remembering about teenage years and how horrible hormones can be. He decided to not say anything about it as the boy was flustered enough as is.

"So…Where have you been this whole-time sir?" Harry said, now stirring around in his seat, most likely trying to hide his 'problem'.

"I have a hidden place. A small cabin. I've had it for years on the chance I'd need to flee from the country. I stayed there in my comatose state for over a month until I was found by a certain cat-changing professor who decided to take care of my belongings as I was deceased."

Harry was now picturing, a stone cave in a stormy location, dark and cold and a sick and dying professor, lying on a makeshift bed made of rags. Forgetting that he was sitting next to a master occlumency, Snape saw right through him and let out a small, unheard of, chuckle.

"You forgot the bats Potter…"

Harry, not knowing what else to do after being caught straight out just laughed.

"Sorry Professor, I'll remember the bats next time, heck I might even chuck in some crows too."

For the first time, Harry and Severus were laughing with each other, not at each other, not looking down but as equals. Harry's hard beating heart finally started to settle, and Harry was able to lower his shoulders and relax, though somehow, his erection wouldn't budge.