AN: This chapter definitely took an unexpected turn. It was supposed to be entirely different, and finally resolve some issues that Harry has been dealing with, but this turned out so long that I'm going to have to push that stuff to the next chapter. Which pushes Draco Drama to the chapter after. But no worries! I'm already working on those chapters and both should be done by next Friday! Hopefully lol.
Anyway, I hope you all like this chapter. Let me know in the comments! Thanks for reading!
Snape was sure that he had never felt so tired in his life. He sat at his desk in his lab as he tried to focus on the lesson plans he was preparing for his sixth-year class, but the dull throbbing in his head that had been his constant companion since he'd woken up was beginning to take its toll. Snape glanced at the clock that hung on the wall across from him and groaned. How was it only seven-thirty. Maybe he could get Jenka to prepare him an early breakfast. That ought to ease the headache.
The past week since Draco had returned to live with Narcissa had been absolutely exhausting. It felt like a never ending list of things to do and Snape was having a hard time trying to keep up.
Harry was upset with him for reasons that Snape had yet to figure out. He said he was fine with Draco leaving, but he was clearly struggling with it. And any time that Snape would broach the subject, Harry would shut him down nearly immediately; always saying that he wasn't upset and that Snape had nothing to worry about.
Except that it only made Snape worry more.
Aside from that, Harry's birthday was coming up and Snape wanted to throw him a real birthday party. He didn't count the one Minerva had put together last year since that was before they had even decided to continue the guardianship into the school year.
Now things were different. Harry was his son and he wanted him to have a real birthday party with his friends, and family. Even his dogfather would be invited.
Then of course there was the World Cup, which until recently, Snape hadn't had any intentions to attend. Which in turn, put him on a closer deadline for a few potions he needed to finish beforehand. Not that he minded. He was, as it turns out, glad to be going.
Snape pushed up from his chair and crossed the room to a potions cabinet on the back wall. He opened it and quickly found the Headache Reliever on the top shelf. He popped off the cork and drank the contents, before placing the empty vial on the table. Then he raised his hand and squeezed the back of his neck, as if that would ease the tension away, but he was surprised to find that he was warm. He checked his forehead and sure enough, he realized that his temperature was up.
But that couldn't be right. Snape was fine. He only had a headache that was probably brought on by stress, and a slightly elevated temperature. Which was surely caused from the heat beneath the potions that were currently brewing on the table.
Yes, that had to be it.
After all, Severus Snape did not get sick. In fact, the last time that he had gotten sick was in seventh year when half of Hogwarts, including Snape and Remus, had caught the flu. As it happened, they had been home for Christmas holidays and had thought they had missed it because everyone else had caught it during the weeks before. Then three days before Christmas, Remus had woken up in the middle of the night with a temperature of one hundred and two. The very next day, Snape was sick as well.
But that was not happening now. Snape was not sick. He was far too busy to be sick.
He moved back to the cabinet and scanned the vials on the shelves. The Fever Reducer was on the third shelf and there in the corner of the bottom was a potion for nausea, because if there was one thing that Snape was not going to do, it was throw up.
Snape drained both potions, one right after the other, then closed the cabinet and leaned against the table. He would just give them a moment to kick in and then he would feel fine.
He only needed a moment.
"Are you alright?" Harry asked from his place beside Snape at the table.
"Yes," Snape answered without looking up from the paper. "Why do you ask?"
"Because you're drinking tea at breakfast, and you always have coffee."
Snape let the paper drop into a fold before placing it to the side, and glanced down to the peppermint and honey tea that sat beside his plate of toast. He cleared his throat and picked up his cup. After taking a small sip and hiding the pain that came when he swallowed the hot liquid, he said, "My throat is a bit sore this morning, but I am fine."
Harry looked at him quizzically but instead turned his attention back to his own plate of eggs, bacon, and toast. He broke off a piece of his bacon and held it out for Rook to take. The dog happily ate the bite before laying back down at Harry's feet.
"Have you heard from Draco?" Snape asked to fill the silence.
Harry nodded. "I got a letter from him this morning. He says he's fine and that he likes their new house." He pointed to the stack of letters that sat on the counter behind Snape. "Didn't you notice that the post came?"
Snape pushed his chair back and stood. "I must have missed it when I came in," he murmured. He picked up the stack and sorted through it. There wasn't much. A note from the Apothecary informing him that an ingredient he had requested had come in and he could pick it up. An issue each of Seeker Weekly and Which Broomstick. Snape paused. "When did we start getting magazine subscriptions?"
Harry looked up from his plate. "I've been using my allowance for Which Broomstick for months now. You know that. But it usually comes while were at Hogwarts; that's probably why you haven't noticed. Sirius got me a year's work of the Seeker one though. That's the first one I've gotten of it."
Snape raised an eyebrow. "He's buying you magazine subscriptions now?"
Harry shrugged. "Guess so."
Snape only hummed in response before turning back to the mail. At the bottom of the stack was a letter with his name written on the front in an elegant script.
Evelyn.
Snape flipped it over but before he could open it, he noticed that the edge of the envelope had been torn. Almost as if someone had been about to open it but didn't. He glanced over to Harry, who to his surprise had been watching him intently, but immediately turned back to his food. A blush covered his face and Snape sighed. He didn't know what to make of Harry's behavior. Especially when he couldn't even get him to talk to him.
"I've got one from Evelyn," Snape said, thinking that perhaps he could try a more direct approach.
He opened the envelope and pulled out the letter.
Harry only continued to push his food around his plate.
Snape read the letter silently.
"Severus, I know that we just spoke last night, but I wanted to be sure that you were okay. You sounded tired and I'm honestly a bit worried about you. I know that you're frustrated over the situation with Draco and his mother, but please trust that you did all you could. It would have been so much worse if Mrs. Malfoy had gone to the Ministry and demanded that Draco be sent back to her. At least this way you have measures in place if Draco needs you.
Anyway, I know we talked about all of this already so I won't keep going about it. I only wish you could see yourself the way that Harry and Draco see you. You are all so lucky to have each other.
Have you talked to Harry yet, by the way? You never actually said last night. You've got to get him to open up to you, but that goes for you as well. Maybe you could open up a bit with him first?
Well, I won't keep you. Tell Harry I said hello. Evelyn."
Snape folded the letter and placed it back in the envelope. "She said 'hello,'" he said, holding the letter up to show Harry.
"Great," Harry said without emotion. He stood and pushed his chair under the table before patting his thigh to get Rook's attention. "I'm going upstairs to answer Draco's letter, then I might go flying for a bit. Is that alright?"
"Of course. I've got quite a lot to do in my lab today, but I want to sit down later and talk about your birthday party. You haven't given me any answers yet about what you want to do."
Harry was already walking toward the door. "I told you it doesn't matter. I'm fine with anything. C'mon, boy."
Snape shook his head. "We will sit down and talk about it. After lunch."
"Okay, sure." Harry was out the door before Snape could say anything else.
He leaned back against the counter and pressed his fingers into his temples. Merlin, he felt awful!
Harry drifted lazily over the pond that lay at the edge of the property, leaning over his broom and letting his hand graze the top of the water.
When he and Rook had first come outside, Harry had spent a lot of time racing around and doing tricks, but eventually the fun had run out. It just wasn't the same when he was by himself. He wished Ron or Draco were still here. At least then they could race each other around the manor.
Harry pointed his broom back toward the house, rising higher into the air as he flew closer to the rooftop.
It would be time for lunch soon and Snape would be calling him inside to wash up. Harry desperately wanted to sort through his muddled thoughts before then. All he knew right now was that he was frustrated and tired.
Tired thanks to the nightmares that were getting worse. Thankfully, the two that he'd had this week had been milder than usual and he hadn't woken up Snape. Mostly they only involved the Dursleys, but he was starting to have ones that included Snape as well. Only Snape didn't beat him in his dreams. In fact, Snape didn't do anything to him, because he didn't notice him at all. Harry would try and get Snape to see him- to talk to him, but it never worked. Snape would always turn and walk away from him, leaving Harry alone again. Harry thought perhaps that would be worse than Uncle Vernon's belt. To have finally gotten a family after all these years, only to find that the one person he thought he could count on had abandoned him as well.
In the light of day Harry could usually separate the nightmare from real life, but he was sure that if he didn't get some sleep soon, he might actually start to crack up.
And he was tired. So tired.
It was making everything else worse. All his pent up emotions were simmering just below the surface. All his worries about Draco and Evelyn. His fears that Snape would eventually leave him like everyone else. It was all becoming too much, but Harry didn't know how to figure it all out.
Snape wanted him to talk to Remus, and a part of Harry wanted to talk to him too, but he was afraid of voicing his fears. What if Remus only confirmed them?
Harry thought about Evelyn as he flew high into the sky before tilting his broom down and free falling towards the ground, only to pull up at the last second. A quick glance around proved that Snape was still inside the house, which was good because if he'd seen that he would have surely pulled Harry from his broom faster than he could say, Quidditch.
Harry didn't think his issue with Evelyn even had anything to do with her, really. She was nice enough, and she seemed to like Snape. And shouldn't it make Harry happy that someone liked him?
No, his problem wasn't with Evelyn. It was with Snape. And with all the unknowns that came with him dating someone.
What if he didn't want Harry around anymore?
What if Harry wasn't enough and they wanted kids of their own?
What would happen to Harry if that were the case?
And more than all that, why was Snape hiding it? Harry's stomach rolled when he thought about how he'd almost read that letter this morning. He'd torn the edge and he would have invaded his privacy without a second thought just to find out what was going on. But then he'd heard Snape leaving his lab and he'd chickened out. He was glad now that he hadn't read it, but it didn't change the fact that Snape was getting letters from Evelyn and not telling him what was going on.
Snape would say that it wasn't his business and that he shouldn't pry, but Harry couldn't help it.
There were far too many questions and not nearly enough answers.
The sun beat down on Harry's neck and he glanced around again. Surely it was lunch time by now. Why hadn't Snape called him inside?
He flew down and landed easily on the grass beside Rook, who began wagging his tail as he ran around him. "Come on, you. Let's go see what's going on."
Harry walked into the Manor through the back door at the kitchen, but when he didn't see Snape anywhere, he moved on through to the foyer. He glanced into the parlor as he walked down the hallway to Snape's lab, and when he got to the door, he raised his hand and gave a soft knock.
"Dad?" Harry said as he opened the door and peered inside.
Harry looked over to the potions table to find Snape sitting on a stool in front of a bubbling cauldron. He had one arm resting on the table with his head propped up in his hand.
And he was asleep.
"Dad?" He said again as he moved closer to him.
Snape didn't move but Harry was close enough now to see the sweat beading across his forehead and the way his cheeks were flushed. He reached out and gently shook Snape's shoulder. "Dad."
Snape jerked awake, his eyes going wide as he looked around the room. "What?"
Harry stepped back. "It's just me. Are you alright?"
"Yes, of course," Snape said as he stood up and checked the cauldron in front of him.
Harry looked down at it, too. "Is it supposed to look like that?" he asked, grimacing at the smell that was wafting up from the orange, goo like substance.
Snape let out of huff of frustration. "No." He raised his wand and banished the ruined potion before turning to look at Harry.
"You're sick," Harry accused.
"I'm fine," Snape said, though even as the words left his mouth, he leaned back against the table and pressed his fingers into his temples with a groan.
"Right," Harry said, unconvinced. "I suppose that's why you were sleeping in your lab and you botched a potion, then? Because you're fine?"
Snape shook his head. "Harry, it's nothing to worry about. I've just got a bit of a headache, that's all."
"Looks like a fever as well." Harry crossed his arms over his chest and said, "I think you ought to go rest."
"I'm-"
"You're not fine!" Harry interrupted. "You're sick. You were probably sick this morning, too, and you lied about it. Which, by the way, you would go mental if I did that."
Snape raised an eyebrow and for a moment, Harry thought he would argue, but instead, he inclined his head and said, "You're right. Perhaps a short rest would be wise."
Surprised that he would agree so quickly, Harry could only nod as Snape walked out of the room. Then as if to make sure Snape really did rest, Harry followed him out into the hallway in time to see him head for the stairs.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
Snape turned back to him with a frown. "To my room, obviously."
"You can barely stand up," he said. "You'd probably fall down the steps and then what would I do?" Harry didn't know what possessed him to take such a tone with Snape, and he was sure that under normal circumstances Snape would have already scolded him for it.
Snape must have thought the same thing because he straightened up a bit and placed his hands on his hips. "And just where do you think I should go, young man?"
"To the couch, obviously," Harry said, mocking Snape's words from a moment before.
"I do not need my thirteen-year-old son to play nurse maid, thank you very much."
Harry glared. "I could always get Grandma."
Snape narrowed his eyes. "You wouldn't dare."
"Try me," Harry said with a shrug. He turned back toward the lab. "I'm going to grab the Fever Reducer and Headache Relief potions."
He was almost to the door when he heard Snape groan. "Get the Stomach Soother as well," he called.
Harry smirked. "Yes, Dad."
Harry opened the cabinet in the lab and scanned the shelves for the potions he needed. He'd been in there often enough helping Snape that he was familiar with where most everything was, but it still took him a minute to get them all.
Just as he was about to close the cabinet, his eyes landed on the Dreamless Sleep. He had only been joking the day that he told Snape that it would help his nightmares, but he would be lying if he said the thought didn't appeal to him at least a little bit. Harry recalled Snape telling him that it was addictive, but that was only if he abused it- not that Harry was thinking of actually taking it.
That would be suicide. Snape would murder him without a seconds thought if he found out.
But a few nights sleep without waking up terrified would certainly be nice. His hand hovered over the vial before Harry even realized he'd moved.
No. He pulled his hand back. He was going to talk to Remus like Snape suggested. Remus would be able to help him get rid of the nightmares.
Harry shut the cabinet door and quickly left the room.
When he got back to the parlor, Harry was surprised to find that Snape had actually listened to him, and was now lying on the couch with his back against the arm. He had even transfigured his clothes into dark pajamas.
"This is ridiculous," Snape said when Harry passed him the potions. "I'm fine."
"You're ridiculous," Harry murmured with a roll of his eyes.
"Harry." Snape glared up at him and Harry grinned.
"Sorry, but you're not fine and you know it. So just lie back and let someone else take care of you for once."
Harry was sure that Snape was only humoring him in order to get him to leave him alone, but in any case, Snape drank the potions and then leaned down to let his head rest against the arm of the couch.
"I'll go get you a blanket and pillow," Harry said as he took the empty vials and sat them down on the coffee table. He didn't give Snape a chance to protest before he left the room and went upstairs.
Harry felt weird about going into Snape's room without him being there, but he pushed it out of his mind as he opened the door and stepped inside. He pulled the comforter and pillow off the bed and left quickly, closing the door behind him.
Snape was asleep when he got back.
"Sure," he said softly as he spread the blanket out over him, "you're just fine." Harry shook his head and tucked the pillow beneath Snape's head. He let his hand brush against his forehead and frowned at how warm he felt despite taking the fever reducer.
Harry heard Rook come in from the back yard through the doggy door that Snape had installed for him. He gave a low bark as he came into the room and Harry glanced over at him.
"What do you think, boy?" Harry asked. "Should we call someone?"
Rook walked around the couch to sniff at the sleeping Snape. Harry thought that if he were awake, he would be shooing the dog away, but since he wasn't, Rook circled the floor in front of the couch a few times before settling down and looking up at Harry.
"Good idea," Harry said. He took a seat in Snape's armchair and said, "We'll just watch him for a while and make sure he doesn't need anything. That's all."
Harry paced back and forth in front of the fireplace. Rook lay beneath the coffee table, his head turning to keep Harry in his sight.
It had been hours since Snape had gone to sleep and he'd only woken up once, about an hour before, and that was to quickly summon a bucket to throw up in. It had happened so fast that Harry had barely had time to stand before Snape was sitting up on the couch, his wand out and pointed toward the hallway. Seconds later the bucket flew through the air.
"Should I get more potions?" Harry had asked.
Snape had only nodded in response. He'd taken them without comment while Harry went to the kitchen for a glass of water, but by the time he'd come back, Snape was already falling back asleep.
Harry was getting worried. Snape's fever was up again and he didn't know what to do.
He paused and looked at the floo powder on the mantle.
That wasn't true, actually. He did know what he could do. He could go get Remus or Minerva or even Mrs. Weasley and they would come immediately.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Harry had scooped up some powder and stepped into the hearth.
"Minerva McGonagall's Cottage," he said clearly before dropping the powder and disappearing with the green flames.
"Grandma," he called as soon as he stepped out of the fireplace.
"Harry?" Minerva stepped into the living room from the kitchen. "What's the matter?"
"Dad's sick. I think he's got the flu, and I've been giving him potions, but the fever won't stay gone, and I- I don't know what to do." He said it in such a rush that he wondered if his Head of House had even understood him, but a moment later she had her own handful of floo powder and they were on their way again.
When they were back in the Manor, Minerva crossed the room and knelt down by Snape's side.
"Severus?" she said quietly as she felt of his forehead, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face.
"Hmm," came the soft response from Snape.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Wonderful," he murmured sarcastically.
Harry watched from the other end of the couch as Snape stirred slightly. He kept his eyes closed as he asked, "Where's Harry?"
"I'm right here," he answered.
Snape glared at him, though considering the fact that only one eye opened even a crack, Harry didn't think he looked all that menacing.
"You got my mother," he accused weakly.
Minerva patted his arm. "And you ought to be glad he did. Your burning up." She looked to Harry. "Harry, go and get me a cool cloth, please."
Harry left quickly to do as he was told, and when he came back Minerva was sitting on the coffee table, waving her wand over Snape.
She took the cloth and placed it on Snape's head.
"There's no need to fuss over me," Snape said, though his voice sounded rough and he kept his eyes closed against the light of the room. Harry knew he didn't like so much attention on him, but as far as he was concerned, he could just get over it.
"There certainly is," Minerva scolded. "Now lie back and get some rest. I'm going to make some soup." She stood and moved toward the kitchen. "Harry, have you eaten anything?"
Harry nodded. "I had a sandwich at lunch, but soup sounds great."
She reached up and put her hand on Harry's shoulder. "How about you come and help me. I hear you're a pretty good cook."
Harry shrugged. "I'm alright. What if he needs-"
Minerva gently turned Harry toward the kitchen. "You have done plenty today. The last thing we need is for you to get sick as well. Come along, now. He'll be alright."
With a sigh and one last look at Snape, whose breathing was already evening out in sleep once more, Harry followed her to the kitchen.
