As his mind drifted back into consciousness the following morning, he felt the witch's presence before his eyes opened. "Ms Lovegood?"
"Yes. It's Luna." Her voice was quiet and close, but it sounded strained.
He slowly opened his eyes, to see her wiping tears from her face.
"What is it?"
She shook her head. "It's nothing."
He frowned. "Luna?"
"I...it's just such a beautiful tribute...I wish I could write like Ginny." She handed him the paper in her hands.
"Hero's Come in Many Forms." Read the Quibbler's headline. His eyes quickly scanned the article eulogizing the many victims of the Dark Lord prior to The Battle of Hogwarts; Amelia Bones, Professor Charity Burbage, Emmeline Vance, Alastor Moody, a houself called Dobby, Bathilda Bagshot, Edward Tonks, and Xenophilus Lovegood.
"We had to take a different angle, you know, because of the Prophet's first post-Battle article." She sniffed. "And all I could think about how no one would ever know what Dobby did for us unless we told them...Ginny and Hermione took it from there. Hermione said my father had been amazingly brave, continuing to support Harry and counter the lies coming from everywhere else even with all the threats against him."
The article concluded, "Mr Lovegood, a loving father until the very end, refused to give up his soul to the dementor's kiss, and therefore gave his life instead. His final words were reportedly, 'My soul is not mine to give for it is with my Luna, wherever she may be."
He glanced up at the girl. He had forgotten the eccentric journalist had not survived Azkaban. How could that have slipped his mind?
"They killed him to get to me." The tears fell again. "He had no idea where I was or that I had escaped, much less how." Her shoulders shook. "And poor Dobby, he was such a kind creature. He too died for me. So many people are gone. Fred, Professor Lupin, Ms Tonks."
Severus watched her tears, trying not to let her pain wash over him, trying to stay distant as always, but then the witch leaned forward, as the sobs overtook her.
Her hot tears dripped onto the bed sheets beside him. He glanced around. The small ward was empty except for the two of them.
With a sigh, his shields fell as he reached an arm up to touch Ms Lovegood's shoulder.
With a loud gasp, she fell against his chest, burying her face into him.
His arm wrapped around her shoulders awkwardly as they sat together. He attempted to find some words of comfort but nothing seemed adequate so he chose to say nothing.
Finally, she pulled back and wiped her face. "That was nice, thank you, Profe-Severus."
His name in her voice sounded at once foreign and comfortable.
She looked up at him. "It's been so long since I've had a good cry. Sometimes it can be such a release." She sniffed again and then smiled.
He scoffed. He could not recall such a thing as a "good cry." Personally, he preferred to avoid anything even resembling a cry at almost any cost. In fact the last time he had shed tears had been...his stomach lurched, as the tightly repressed memory surfaced. The last tears he had shed had been the night he had assaulted Ms Lovegood. Before that, the night he had learned the truth of Dumbledoor's plan for Potter. And before that, the night of Lily's murder. The fact that these three moments stood so distinct in his memory was enough proof that crying was not something positive.
"Severus?" She leaned close again.
He looked to her, raising an eyebrow.
"It must be exhausting. Keeping it all in all the time."
His gaze narrowed, as his mental shields snapped back into place. "We do what we must to survive."
She shook her head. "But don't you see, we did it. We survived. It's over now."
He scoffed again. "I fear it has just begun for you. You have a whole new battle to fight."
Her hand brushed over her abdomen as a dreamy look overtook her features. "I don't see it that way at all. More like a Phoenix rising from the ashes. Just think, this child will be of the first generation since our great grandparents, not to fear Death Eaters and Dark Lords."
He was going to comment on the fact that they were indeed part of different generations, to remind her that he was in fact a few years older than her own parents, but the faraway look in her eyes told him she was no longer listening anyway.
Finally, she smiled as her gaze returned to his face. "Isn't that a lovely thought?"
"I fear it is too soon to be sure of such a future. The Dark Lord's void is likely not to stay empty for long."
This time it was Luna who scoffed. "Can't you at least pretend for a moment? Pull that darkness out from over your eyes and appreciate the good in the world?"
Her face fell again as fresh tears began to fall. "I only wish my father was here to see it all."
His body stiffened. "Luna...I...I am sorry for your tremendous loss."
She fell against his chest yet again, her hot tears soaking his thin robe as her arms wrapped around him.
He swallowed down his discomfort for her sake, wondering how she could even tolerate such closeness considering all she had been through… all he had put her through. Then again that may be precisely why she sought it. He was no expert in the ways of the female brain, even one less mysterious than that of Luna Lovegoods, but perhaps his actions now could provide something he had failed to provide before, consideration for her needs.
He rested his head back against the headboard as his arms draped over her form, less awkwardly this time. Her tears slowed and soon so did her breaths. As her body melted against him, he realized the witch had fallen asleep, and he sighed.
He started awake, and glanced around. Luna still slept on his chest, her legs curled into his side. His back throbbed in complaint of the awkward position and the feeling in his right leg had been lost but he hesitated, not wanting to wake the witch.
Briefly, he considered the pleasant sensations of her warmth against him, her soft hair under his chin, but quickly dismissed it. He would not allow himself such thoughts.
She stirred against him. "Oh Dear. I am so sorry…" She sat up, rubbing her face before smoothing her hair down. "I did not -"
"Do not apologize."
She smiled. *Okay. I am not sorry. I have not slept that well in days."
He nodded and then shifted positions. As the sensation returned to his leg, he swallowed down the dryness that had accumulated in his throat.
"Where have you been staying, Luna?" Her father's home had been destroyed in the Death Eater's raid.
"Oh, well, I have a room at the Leaky Cauldron for now. I've been flooing to the Weasley's most days. Mr Weasley helped me repair my father's press so we've been printing from his shed. And Ginny, Hermione, Neville, and Harry have been helping with content and delivery. I think everyone just needed a project to distract them from dwelling on our losses. I guess the Quibbler has been that for all of us. Even Mrs Weasley has taken time to voice her thoughts despite her grief." She sighed.
"I know eventually I will need something more permanent, but I can't bring myself to rebuild the house yet. I could barely look at it all when we returned for the press. My home, my things, my memories..."
"Are you eating enough? Sleeping enough?"
"Oh, don't you start too?" She pulled away leaving a chill. "Can no one just believe that I am as well as I can be, all things considered?"
He nodded slowly. "I apologize. I believe you are."
"Thank you. I actually believe you when you say it, unlike the others." Her mouth tightened.
The door at the opposite end of the ward swung open as Healer Pye strolled in. "Oh. Ms Lovegood, I did not realize you were still here. Mr. Snape, I should change those dressings again."
Luna stood, "It is late. Good night, Severus." She smiled sadly at him. "Good night Healer Pye." She bowed her head to each in turn before strolling across the large ward, closing the door as she left.
The temperature of the room seemed colder as the mediwizard sat down beside him. He pulled back the dressings from the potion master's wounds. There was no longer the stench of rotting flesh or coagulated blood, just the dull scent of the spent herbal poultice . "I think I've managed to do about all I can do for your injuries at this point. I believe the rest is just a matter of time and patience. I suspect you will have many months ahead before your strength, endurance, and the like return to near previous levels. I feel more confident however, that your voice should nearly fully mend considering how much progress has been made so far."
The healer slathered a new dressing with a layer of the healing paste before charming it into place over the damaged tissue. "Do you have anyone to help you when you leave, Sir? It would be best if you had assistance for a while."
Severus closed his eyes, suppressing a groan. "Likely not," he mumbled
"What of Ms Lovegood? Would she -"
"No," he snapped. "She has burdened herself enough on my behalf."
"As you say, Sir. I can recommend a possible nurse for hire, if you wish."
Severus nodded although had his doubts he would follow through with that plan. He would manage as he always did.