NOTE: The not very nice Ron and the off-screen rape and its aftermath mention are in this chapter. I promise it's not dwelled on or graphic beyond the mention of it having happened.

***Chapter Six***

He felt nothing.

He heard nothing.

Except her.

Somehow he sensed he wasn't actually hearing her. Not in the traditional manner most would think of anyway. He could sense her … well, that was overwhelming, especially considering he suspected he was not well. (Thus the feeling and hearing nothing.)

Exhaustion. Hunger. Pain. Stress. Hurt, separate somehow from the pain. Anger. Something underlying he couldn't identify.

Even knowing he himself felt nothing, he wanted to fix it for her. He wanted to change into his animagus and give her the comfort it always seemed to do.

To both of them.

So now what? He felt … intrusive knowing what she was feeling. He knew she wouldn't share so much willingly, certainly not with him.

Feeling nothing left him with few options, so he pushed with his mind.

Are you able to hear me, Miss Granger?

A soft gasp.

He supposed that meant she did hear him.

What is troubling you?

Nothing. He could just imagine her trying to suss out what was happening, why she was hearing her former potions professor's voice in her head. And how she was supposed to go about answering him.

Do not try to speak aloud. Just focus your thoughts to me. Think of it as pushing your magic to me, but instead your thoughts.

Is that really you? She asked. He should have known she'd know precisely what to do. And have little difficulty doing it.

You are expecting someone else to talk to you via your mind?

Well, no.

Silence. Now what? She hadn't answered his question, and he didn't want to prod too deeply. He had questions, though.

Are you all right? She asked.

Was that why she was quiet? He wouldn't have guessed that. More questioning her sanity in talking to him at all.

I do not know. Where am I?

Hogwarts' infirmary. Minerva thought you'd be safer here than at St. Mungo's.

I see.

That made him feel better. No doubt St. Mungo's would not be safe from a privacy standpoint. That Minerva wanted him safe said a lot, and went toward answering one of his questions.

And did we win?

There was no doubt in his mind that the war had been finished that day on Hogwarts grounds.

Oh, yes, Sir.

Good.

That made him feel even better than finding out where he was. He supposed if he was at Hogwarts, and she was at Hogwarts, it should've been obvious the Dark Lord had not won. Still, he needed to hear the answer. Needed to know his commitment to the former headmaster, and the Potters, was done.

Now what has you troubled? he prompted again.

Wizards.

Wizards?

What did that even mean? Were there followers of Voldemort who were running amok? Was she being hurt? Bullied? Married off? (He couldn't brush off the feeling of dread at that last possibility.) She wasn't answering him either, so he had no idea.

Ronald Weasley.

If he was actually awake, he'd roll his eyes. He should have known, he supposed. None of the Weasleys were bad. Contrary to popular belief, as much as they may have annoyed him as students, he didn't dislike them. They were, really, a decent family. He had years of exposure to the whole lot of them to have formed an educated opinion.

Why? he prompted. He thought she was truly underselling herself settling for the likes of Ronald Weasley. He wasn't an idiot, but he was never going to share her interest in academic endeavors. And she was never going to be crazy about quidditch.

He told me he couldn't be with me. Can you believe that? I forgave him for leaving us while we were wearing that hideous cursed locket! And he tells me I'm not the witch for him. Not that I really consider what we did actual dating, or that I had my mind made up that I wanted to be his witch. I thought we could at least try now that the war was done. See if we are compatible, away from Hogwarts, war, and everything.

He mulled that over in his mind. It was sound reasoning.

The Carpathian grey wolf in him wanted to bare his claws and teeth at the idea of someone … touching his mate. He knew that she didn't know that's who and what she was. So, he had to temper down these possessive urges, urges that were foreign to him, but still there. He hadn't experienced them before now. Sure, he'd been jealous of James Potter, but this was different. With Lily he'd felt as if someone had cut his heart out slowly to prolong the pain.

This was a baser, fundamental need to get another wizard away from his witch.

What happened?

You are aware we were captured by snatchers and taken to Malfoy Manor?

It was a question, but her … tone, even in this form of communication, told him she was likely aware that he did know.

Was he there? Was he a part of it? No.

I am.

I never told Harry or Ron, but someone …

Someone?

I still haven't said it aloud.

Well, you're still not saying it aloud now.

Raped me.

He did not know that. He'd heard all about their capture, Bella's torture, Greyback's taunts and threats (he hadn't heard they were anything but that), and escape. He had not heard one iota of someone there at that time actually harming his mate. He had to force himself to calm down again, but it was worse this time than just moments ago. There was nothing he could do about it now. His grey wolf wanted to, though.

What did that have to do with Ronald Weasley, though?

He was confused, and, truthfully, knowing she was his soul mate or not since 1991, she rarely confused him. Confounded him with her essays, yes. Confused, no.

I am very sorry, Miss Granger. I know those words are insufficient. Honestly, he truly had no idea what to say. He'd dealt with this issue as head of Slytherin house, but never about someone he … cared for. If one could say he cared for her. She certainly had moved from "Gryffindor swot" to "other" the more time he spent with her in his animagus form the past seven years.

Oh, it's okay. I mean, it's not, obviously, but you didn't do it. I sort of put it out of my mind, you know? We were busy still, and, well, the war wasn't going to pause so that I could be mad that some death eater who didn't even take off his mask…

So, you don't know who it was?

I do not. I don't really care. I think I wouldn't like knowing. Being able to put a face or name with him. That wasn't the important part. I mean, not as far as Ron.

Okay? Now he was thoroughly confused. She'd just said she hadn't told them.

He overheard me asking Madam Pomfrey for a potion to abort a pregnancy.

You are pregnant?

I wasn't, am not, sure. I haven't gotten my period, but haven't regularly for a while now. Madam Pomfrey said she wasn't surprised with the way I'd been eating and stressed for the past year. I was going to cast the diagnostics, and wanted the potion in case it was positive.

Logical. He wasn't sure how healthy that was, to be so logical about something like that, but he had done many things for years that he had to do in the name of the Order. It didn't mean it didn't start to weigh on him, though.

And Mr. Weasley?

Assumed it was Harry's, I guess, because it couldn't possibly be his.

I see.

He said some very not nice things and, even when I told him the truth, that it was something that happened at Malfoy Manor. It didn't matter.

She sounded so … sad with that last statement. He could imagine how disappointing it must feel to have one of her two best friends be upset instead of comforting about something like that.

Why not? he asked

Something about not wanting to be with someone who would look at him and see that every time we slept together.

I see. A bit presumptuous on Mr. Weasley's part to assume they'd be "sleeping together" at all, let alone frequently. He knew young men didn't have sleeping on their minds most of the time.

He also seemed to imply that I lied about being a virgin.

He considered that as losing your virginity?

Evidently.

While I suppose from a technical standpoint, physically speaking, that is not wrong. That would not be my stance, though.

No?

No.

Silence.

Did you take the potion? he asked

I haven't yet, no. I saw you and came to sit down, for some reason.

No doubt she was drawn to him. While not able to feel or hear anything, he was obviously conscious enough to seek her out when she was nearby. Interesting. Did she recognize that? Would she research it if she did? Or would she just chalk it up to happenstance?

Instead of casting the diagnostics?

Yes, Sir.

Are you having second thoughts?

No, I don't know. Ah. Some emotion with that answer. Not in the words themselves, but the doubt she was feeling.

Cast the diagnostics, Miss Granger. Find out.

Why do you care? She didn't sound put out, or as if she was challenging him, but until this moment he hadn't been overly kind to her. Would he have been last year if he knew, and she was here? He didn't know.

Why are you putting it off? I'm lying here, presumably in some sort of unconscious state, so you didn't need to come sit with me at precisely this moment.

Does Madam Pomfrey know that you're … aware?

Doubtful.

Why not?

I would not be able to communicate with her this way.

Silence

Why not?

Internally, he scowled. He was not ready to answer that question yet. He truly, despite it being at least a year since he'd learned she was his soul mate, hadn't spent a whole lot of time thinking about what that meant. He didn't think he'd make it out of the war alive or a free man, so didn't see much point in contemplating life post-war with his soul mate by his side.

Cast the diagnostics, Witch. Find out your answer.

It's not going to make a difference. He still thinks that either I had sex with Harry, or I'm lying about losing my virginity.

I'm suggesting you cast them for your own peace of mind. I, personally, don't care what Ronald Weasley thinks about your potentially being pregnant.

More silence.

He felt her magic. Familiar. Changed since the first time he'd felt it in his Carpathian grey wolf form, expected as that was like ten years ago. Teaching potions, he didn't have much occasion to be around her when she cast a spell or charm.

He felt her panic in his mind even though she said nothing.

It's okay to do what you feel is best for you. No one else, Ronald Weasley, me, Poppy, or anyone else, has the right to tell you to do or not do anything.

Poppy won't say anything, Sir?

I think Severus is appropriate. And I assure you, she would never tell. She suspected that I was not truly a follower after Albus' death. She said nothing.

Oh.

Yes. How Poppy had known, he wasn't sure as they never discussed it. They couldn't. At least not then.

I'm just not sure.

Well, now you at least know. The potion is effective until twelve weeks at the latest. Much longer, there could potentially be lethal complications for you, so I would recommend the muggle procedure after that.

Something told him if she let it go past twelve weeks, she would have made up her mind to continue with the pregnancy. He couldn't imagine doing that, but he knew some did. Some didn't have a choice in the matter. This witch did, though.

Thank you.

More silence. Merlin. Who the hell had raped this witch? Did Voldemort know? He found it hard to believe he could have. Certainly, he would have heard about it if Voldemort knew.

I just never did anything to deserve his distrust.

He is insecure. I can understand him saying something hateful to offset his insecurities. I have firsthand experience with it, and it cost me a friendship. My only friend.

Lily.

Yes. What day is it? No sense dwelling on Lily now. And he could honestly say, this was the first time in a very long time he'd thought that dwelling on her for any reason was a waste of his time.

June fifteenth.

And it just occurred to you now? That surprised him. She was smarter than that.

Well, there were the last horcruxes we had to find, the final battle, and then funerals and statements for upcoming trials.

I'm not accusing you of anything, just curious. He supposed she had been busy.

It truly never occurred to me. I mean, one time…

Right.

Are you in pain?

No. Not that I can feel anyway. Poppy has done well. Tell me about the past six weeks. If I drift in and out - and you will know now that we've communicated this way if I do. You'll feel it, so I apologize in advance, but please do not stop.

She told him of the past six weeks, and she did not stop. It was when she took his hand in hers that he drifted off to … whatever it was he was doing at the moment.

XvXvXv

"And I'm telling you that he's not dead!"

This was the first thing he heard.

The first thing he heard.

He heard it.

Not in his mind.

"Why do you even care, Hermione? He's a death eater!"

"He is not! Ronald. Did you not pay attention at the trials? He hadn't truly been a death eater since 1980."

"I paid attention. I know he took the Dark Mark of his own free will."

"As if you never made a mistake!"

"Taking the Dark Mark, following Voldemort, was not a mistake!"

"He changed sides! He acted as a spy for almost twenty years. He was tortured! He nearly died, Ronald. I think that he made up for it!"

"Because of Harry's mum."

"Harry's mum has been dead since 1981. What stopped him after 1981 from going off and doing his own thing? How many times did he try to save Harry's life? Yours? Mine? How many of those times did Harry assume he was doing the exact opposite?"

"Why are you defending him? What? Did you like having sex with someone wearing one of those masks or something?"

Silence. Other than a very audible gasp. And, if he wasn't mistaken, Potter's "that was uncalled for" overlapping the very unmistakable sound of a slap. (Good for the witch!)

He opened his eyes, slowly. Blinking rapidly once he came to terms with the fact that he could, in fact, open his eyes.

"That is enough, Mr. Weasley," he rasped softly.

Hermione rushed to his bedside.

"Severus, you're awake."

Four sets of eyes were staring at them: Minerva, Poppy, Weasley, and Potter. They were likely staring at her versus him. None of them would know they were on a first name basis, or how that came to be.

"I am," he said. "Weasley, take it from someone who knows. There will come a day that you will say something to this witch, your friend, that you will not be able to repair damages for. To bring up something traumatic in front of others is showing a callous disregard for her feelings and her well being."

"As if you care. How do you even know anyway?"

"I told him," Hermione said.

"When?"

"That's irrelevant, isn't it?" She turned her attentions back to him. "Are you all right?"

"I am surprisingly all right, yes."

"Good," she said.

He looked at her face, dipping into her mind. She looked all right, but was she truly? That was a very … ugly thing for Ron to say. That he thought that said a lot. He wasn't the most pleasant fellow on a good day.

You are all right?

She shrugged, and he nodded. He understood. That comment was incredibly hurtful.

He's an imbecile.

I never got to properly thank you for calming me that day.

He nodded, seeing the sincere appreciation in her eyes. "No thanks necessary," he said softly. Little did she know, but he'd been doing so for years.

It made him wonder how long ago that was.

"What day is it?"

"July twelfth."

Merlin, she must have really been distraught that day if her feelings broke through almost a month ago. And nothing had before or after that.

Poppy broke in here.

"All right. Let me examine my patient now that he's awake."

He scowled, but knew that it had to be done. If he was never a patient of Poppy's again for the rest of his life, he'd be okay with that turn of events.

Did you get examined?

Why? The diagnostics came back negative after I took the potion.

So she had taken it. He was … proud of her. She was too young, and deserved far better than a baby before she was twenty.

To ensure that you have healed properly.

Oh. No. I'm all right. Really.

He doubted she was all right, but he didn't know her well enough to accuse her of lying. Or to push. Not about this anyway.

Will you return?

I can.

He nodded then as she left his side. The others left the room. He noticed she didn't walk near Ronald Weasley.

Poppy did her thing, determining that he was okay. As okay as he could be anyway. Healing.

"You scared us," the mediwitch said.

"Yes, well…"

"You need to tell her, you know."

"What?" he asked.

"Miss Granger. You need to tell her."

"I'm sure I don't know…"

"She told me that she'd connected with you. There's been talk of declaring you dead for over two months. She wanted me to know that while seemingly unaware, you had communicated with her. She doesn't seem to know why."

"She is in no state, nor am I."

"Well, I wasn't suggesting anything serious, but you need to start somewhere."

"Did you not hear what Weasley said, Poppy?"

"I did. I think it's fitting."

"What?" he bellowed. How could she say such a thing?

She stood tall, not backing down from his violent reaction to her statement.

"You have a lot to heal from, Severus. That means lots of patience. Your mate has something to heal from, too. I know she was … traumatized by the diagnostic results that led to her taking that potion. She went through it alone. Here. In the bed next to yours because she was afraid that someone would take advantage of her not being around to stop them from declaring you dead. Neither Harry Potter nor Ronald Weasley are aware she had to take the potion. She told them it was a negative pregnancy diagnosis. That also means patience. I think it's fitting. You, that I know of, have never had a relationship."

"What does that have to do with anything?" he asked, knowing he sounded bitter.

Yes, as Hans Gruber he'd had dates. Lots of dates. However, he'd never had a relationship. And here, back in the magical world, no relationships either. For the same reason. He wasn't going to build a relationship with anyone on a lie. He wasn't built that way.

At least that's what he told himself. As Severus or Hans, he had to lie to pretty much everyone he encountered. All of the time.

Was there another reason underneath it all? Had he not wanted anyone because he subconsciously knew they weren't his? Interesting to think.

"Nothing, Severus. I'm not trying to be insulting or patronizing. I just meant finding your mate at thirty-eight years old. Some might be tempted to move too fast, push too hard. The fact that you both have a war, and its effects, two wars in your case, to recover from. I suspect neither of you will rush into anything. That's healthy, Severus, is all I meant."

"There are … things about me."

"Worse than you taking the Dark Mark?"

"Some might think so," he murmured.

"Well, she's not a priest, Severus. You don't have to confess all."

"Really? You wouldn't want to know…"

"We're not talking about me. I suspect that she very much would want to know. You know it, too, which is why you're contemplating what to do with this knowledge."

"Yes." She was right. She knew it, too.

She shrugged. "You are overall an honorable man. The fact you think you should tell her of these things tells me that, even if I didn't know it. I believe she would see that, too. These things are in your past?"

"Yes, while I was … gone, in between the wars."

"Well. I can't tell you what to do. I can tell you what I think that you should do."

"Mm, I will take it under advisement."

He nodded, mulling over her words. She supposed she was right. It was, in fact, part of the reason that he never contemplated getting serious with anyone he dated. He had too much baggage. Seriousness would come with the expectation of spending the night. He wanted none of that. Not because he was adverse to spending the night with someone.

No.

He was afraid of what he might reveal in his nightmares to someone else.

It would be rather comical if he got through the first wizarding war and escaped a stint in Azkaban, only to end up there because of a Statute of Secrecy violation while he was sleeping!

Never mind, spending time with someone implied he allowed himself to trust or get comfortable enough with anyone to be so … intimate with them. The only person he'd trusted, honestly ever, muggle life or wizarding, was Theo.

He had no desire to be intimate with Theo.

He sighed heavily at the thought of his … friend. Not knowing of Hans' true identity or not, Severus considered Theo more of his friend than he ever had Dumbledore. Had he used Theo as Dumbledore used him? Severus didn't think so. Theo knew the risks in the jobs they were doing. He hoped the other man died knowing he hadn't been played.

(As it happened, Theo listed him as his beneficiary, so evidently he meant as much to Theo as Theo did to Severus.)

XvXvXv

She appeared by his bedside later that night.

"Why are you here?"

"Reporters can't get in here," she said, lips thinned.

He chuckled softly. Not at the fact that she had to worry about such things, but that she truly did not want that sort of attention. He was glad, too, that she understood his question. He hadn't been asking her why she was here with him.

"Did Mr. Weasley apologize?"

"No," she murmured, rolling her eyes. The crossing of her arms over her chest told him that while she was playing off not caring, she very much did.

"He will."

"Maybe. I'm not sure I'm of the mind to forgive him for saying … that."

"Nor should you feel the need to."

Silence. Not exactly uncomfortable, but still. She seemed to want to be here, and he wanted her here. Poppy made an appearance to administer a few potions.

"Poppy," he said as the mediwitch was about to leave his curtained off area.

"Yes, Severus."

"Would you please convince Miss Granger to let you examine her. If not for what happened at Malfoy Manor, and its aftereffects, just to ensure the past year hasn't taken its toll in some way she is not aware of."

"It's up to her, but of course I will."

"Miss Granger. Ease a wizard's mind that the one who insisted I was still alive despite my coma is going to be around for a while. Whole and healthy."

She sighed, dropping her arms to her side as she blew her bangs out of her face. Her hair looked … rather listless today, he only just now noticed. Way to be observant. He hoped just waking after being out for over two months was a sufficient excuse.

"Headmaster," she said.

"Severus," he corrected. How odd to hear … this witch call him that, as he had not been her headmaster. He supposed she saw it as she was supposed to be there.

"You called me Miss Granger."

He frowned. He had? Then it dawned on him what she meant.

"To Madam Pomfrey," she said, at the same time he came to understand when he'd done so.

"Ah. I was being polite. I have not rescinded your permission to address me as Severus."

"Okay." She stood then, clearly not pleased, but followed Poppy outside of his curtained off area.

He wondered again who had … harmed her. He thought it more than likely that whoever assaulted her hadn't told anyone. Likely not, especially after the three Gryffindors (along with the other prisoners) had escaped. The Dark Lord would not have taken the news well that someone had bothered to assault her instead of ensuring she was disabled. (Maybe whoever had done so thought he was disabling her. Severus had no idea.)

He had time while she was being checked over by Poppy to think over what he wanted to do. If he wanted to do anything. He imagined if anyone but Poppy were to have heard the request, they would have been surprised. Likely, they'd think he was under the Imperius or something.

He knew how to be considerate. He wasn't a complete moron or an imbecile. In the social circles Hans Gruber traveled in, he was rather sought after because of his manners. Well, in part. His rumored wealth, connections, and power was part of it, too. He'd like to see half of the wizards and witches around do what he'd done for nearly twenty years and stay sane, let alone in good spirits!

Never mind being shuffled off into the muggle world. Severus understood why Albus had done it. On paper. However, knowing the old man deliberately tried to spoil his soul to prevent him from finding his soul mate altered Severus' perspective a bit.

Yes, he could understand, taking the Dark Mark alone was a soul staining act. He could even understand Albus wanting to protect the witch in question. What he did, though, was still shady as hell, and underhanded. He was dead now, and everyone thought he was this master general. The man had gotten lucky. It was a fluke that Harry was the elder wand's master. He couldn't have possibly have planned for it. He didn't know what Draco was up to. He might have had an idea, but he didn't know.

As much as Severus might like to disparage the former headmaster, Dumbledore had kept to his end of the bargain.

Severus was a free man. No charges. No house arrest. No penalties.

That was in large part due to Albus and his posthumous testimony and records. No mentions of any of Severus' muggle activities. So, Severus would continue to keep the man's secrets and let people praise him. If it wasn't Albus, they'd focus on him and his role instead more than likely. He'd much prefer the focus be on the deceased wizard.

"What's that look for?" his witch asked, returning to his bed area.

"Nothing," he murmured. "Just thinking."

"Okay. If you don't want me here…"

"I did not say that. If you recall, I asked if you were going to return."

"You did."

She sat in the chair that was primarily hers. Poppy sat there sometimes. Minerva. A few other staff, including Filius who said he forgave Severus for knocking him out. Usually, though, this witch occupied the chair.

"You are okay?" he asked.

"I am. She said everything is fine, after taking the potion and everything."

"That was a concern, yes. I presume she told you what to look for and when to summon her. She said you stayed here while you took it. That wasn't what I was asking after, though."

"I'm okay." She shrugged. "I need to watch my calorie intake, more not less, rest, and to watch that I don't get ill."

"Mm," he said. "Does that mean you won't be returning here then for your seventh year?"

She huffed softly, blowing on her bangs once more and he chuckled softly.

"Do I have to?"

He arched a brow at her, wincing slightly as he shifted on the bed.

"That is not the response I expected to come from you."

"It's just. I proved I can survive capably, for months, without an adult in the magical world. It was Harry saying his name that got us caught, not me."

He chuckled at that.

"Obviously," he said. He hadn't known that until now, but it was clear she wouldn't have been the one to say it.

She huffed again, rolling her eyes at him. Proof that she … wasn't frightened of him. Why not? It was odd.

"So, in order to prove my worth, when I stood up against Bellatrix's torture and being raped, and still did not reveal anything! Now I have to go through a year of school just to sit my NEWTs? I dare say some of the former graduates couldn't do what we did."

She raised a very good point. And she wasn't wrong either.

"I will take it up with the Minister for Magic."

"Thank you. I don't mean to sound like a spoiled child, but it's just ridiculous."

"You don't sound spoiled. A bit entitled, maybe, but not spoiled. You, I believe, have every right to sound entitled in this. I also believe you have the intellect and capability to sit them without having to sit through an entire year of , I will speak with him."

"That's very kind of you, Severus."

"Tell me who decided I would retain the headmaster's position?"

"Professor Dumbledore and Kingsley."

He rolled his eyes, shifting again on his bed. He couldn't get comfortable, no matter what he tried.

"Of course they did."

"That surprises you?"

"Yes, as I was placed in the position by the Dark Lord. I didn't earn it. I believe Albus knew I would be the one placed in the position, but still. I presumed I would be removed and it would be offered to Minerva."

"Do you not want it?"

He chuckled softly, huffing a bit at the pain even that caused. He took a moment to try to get comfortable, let the pain work itself out of him.

"You are the first person in nearly twenty years who's asked me that."

"And?"

"I don't know," he admitted.

She nodded, seeming to understand why he couldn't give a concrete answer to that question.

"Well, are you going to keep it until you decide? Don't you want the chance to show everyone how you'd act as headmaster without a war?"

"Valid point, and yes, I admit the idea holds appeal."

If she didn't come back here, though, how would he see her? She didn't know they were soul mates. She'd, no doubt, find someone - muggle or magical - who wasn't Ronald Weasley who could appreciate her.

Honestly, he wasn't sure how to appreciate her.

The only real example he had was Lucius, and his devotion to Narcissa seemed to be bordering on … wanting his wife to be a kept woman rather than a partner. He didn't want an arm decoration, or someone who knew how to host a ball but couldn't hold a conversation the other three hundred sixty four days of the year.

"You look tired," she said.

"I shouldn't for as long as I've been laying here."

"You're not being lazy. You're recovering. Poppy says another day or two and she'll think about letting you go to your rooms."

"How nice of her."

She laughed then, setting her hand over the back of his lightly.

"She wants to be sure you don't have any setbacks."

"I know. And Minerva says she is supervising repairs."

"She is."

"I'm surprised you're not helping with those."

"I did quite often before you regained consciousness."

She chose to be in here with him? Interesting. Not that she sat by his bed all day long.

"I still do, but when Ron's around," she shrugged.

"I understand. You can't hide from him forever, nor should you have to. You did nothing wrong."

"I know. I just don't like his glares."

Severus smirked. "I'm going to try to rest."

"Okay. Sleep well."

"Where are you staying?"

"With Harry."

He nodded then, shifting again to get as comfortable as he could on the bed.

"Good," he said.

It was safest. Until he knew the state of … things as far as any followers who hadn't been caught, he preferred she stay somewhere safe. And Grimmauld Place was safe. Well, he presumed it was now anyway. Kingsley wouldn't allow Harry Potter to stay somewhere that was potentially risky.

That also meant that Harry was being a good friend. That was good. She needed that right now, even if she never talked about what happened at Malfoy Manor. She didn't deserve to be alone with her own thoughts.

NOTE: Happy Sunday! We've had rain the past couple of days, and I'm so glad. We needed it, and at this time of the year in Fargo it could be snow. So I'll take rain. Things are turning green, which is my favorite thing to see. Have a great beginning to your week, and thanks for reading.