CHAPER 7 - FIRST STEPS

In the following days, Snape's voice improved day by day. Pomfrey took that as a signal that his body was ready, and pushed him every day.

One morning in late June, Pomfrey announced that it was time to get Snape moving and out of bed. It was after almost two months of being bedridden and slowly regaining his magical core and strength back, Pomfrey thought he was ready.

According to her, at first, it shouldn't be a lot. Being able to hold his weight on his feet would be good for starters. And then, walk to the restroom and back.

That first morning, when Pomfrey announced he should be able to get up, Harry nodded and looked at Snape.

He, however, was avoiding both their gazes, instead looking out of the window feigning interest.

"Come on, Severus, up," Pomfrey said, removing the covers and gesturing him up. Her fingers wrapped around Snape's upper arm to support him and pulled him until he was sitting down.

Harry, though, couldn't unsee Snape's expression. He didn't say a word or utter a sound, but his eyes were open wild and looked frantically all over the room. It looked as if he was trying to come up with anything to avoid what Pomfrey had suggested.

He had to intervene.

"Wait, ma'am," he interrupted, taking a few steps forward. "Wouldn't it be better if I changed the bandages first? You know, just in case the trip to the bathroom takes longer…"

"But I have a meeting with Pomona later, and…"

"It's alright, I can manage," Harry said, "I'll help him up and walk to the bathroom myself. If anything happens I'll let you know. Does it work for you?"

Pomfrey looked at Harry, and then at Snape, who was in the same position she'd left him.

But Harry had seen, out of the corner of his eye, how he'd grabbed the sheets and was trying to cover his thin and pale legs.

At last, Pomfrey sighed and nodded.

"Be very careful, okay Potter? Use magic if you feel he weighs too much for you to support him," she said, and then she looked at Snape, "Severus, Harry will help you. You will have to lean on him for support, so don't be a nit-picker. Your strength won't be enough. Get it?"

Snape only nodded, his back slumping and losing its stiff posture.

Once Pomfrey was out for breakfast and left the two alone, Harry observed the man.

He was more relaxed than before, with Pomfrey insisting he got up, but he could still see the lines on his face and under the eyes. He leaned forward, placing his face at eye-level.

"I'll give you a choice, Snape," he said, and his voice was low, understanding. "Would you rather we do it now so you can relieve yourself and get it out of the way, or would you rather do it later?"

Snape locked eyes with him. Harry had offered him a choice, and he intended to keep it whatever he decided. Snape then seemed to sigh, his shoulders heaving once.

"Now," he rasped, his voice croaky.

Harry then nodded and pushed the sheets back down. Snape was already seated, but he made him move closer to the edge of the bed and turn his body a bit to the side.

"It's alright, we'll do it at your pace," Harry spoke to him to calm him, "I'll move your legs down and put the slippers on."

Harry did that, gently holding one of his legs and bringing it down, and then the other. He then knelt and covered his big and elongated feet with some fluffy white slippers that didn't suit Severus Snape at all. But after seeing him so much with a horrible white and beige hospital gown, it didn't even faze Harry anymore.

When Harry got back up, Snape was looking away. They both knew what was coming, and it seemed that Snape would rather be anywhere else than here and now. The tension in his body was palpable, his shoulders stiff, and his jaw set in a hard line.

Not knowing whether his words would even be welcome, Harry just smiled, trying to encourage him.

"Ready?" he asked, and then he opened his arms, "come on, wrap your arm around my neck, and I'll help you up."

Harry leaned forward and wrapped an arm around Snape's waist, and Snape passed his left arm around Harry's neck for support. Harry could feel the hesitance in the older man's grip, a slight tremor in his body.

"One, two… three," Harry counted, and with three, he straightened his back, taking Snape with him.

He stopped beside the bed, looking down at Snape's unsteady legs, which were shaking uncomfortably.

"It's okay, that's normal," Harry said and looked to his right. He couldn't see Snape's face, he was looking down and his hair was covering his face, "let's do some sit-ups first, alright?"

Harry manoeuvred around Snape and stood in front of him.

"Now, hold onto me, and try to sit back down on the bed. Don't let your body fall, squeeze your muscles and try to control it until you feel the mattress under you," Harry instructed.

Snape tried, but his knees wobbled and gave in, and he immediately held onto Harry. He felt the sudden, desperate clutch of Snape's hands, his eyes opening wide for a second, but he tightened his grip.

"Hey, I've got you. Don't be afraid, I won't let you fall or get hurt," Harry said, "ready?"

The beads of sweat on Snape's forehead were visible, this was strenuous for someone who hadn't moved from bed in weeks.

But he was doing it. After the third sit-up, Snape breathed in and out, letting go of Harry momentarily, his exhale shaky and laden with effort.

"You're doing great, Snape. Great job," Harry said as he leaned closer, squeezing his shoulder, "I think we've done enough for one day. Let's see how many steps you can take to the bathroom, yeah?"

Snape clutched at Harry's neck, his grip almost painfully tight. He could almost feel the tension radiating from the older man's body, the silent struggle in his movements.

Harry could do little else but try to use his words to encourage him and guide him, and hope it was enough for Snape.

"Ready? Let's take some steps."

Harry took one step forward and waited for Snape to take one as well. His legs were trembling with the effort, but he was standing, which was far more than he'd done in weeks. Finally, one of the legs moved forward, and he took one step.

"Very well, Snape, you're doing it," Harry said with a smile, "come on, another one."

They took five steps. On the sixth one, Snape's knees gave out and he would've fallen to the ground, had Harry not been holding him the entire time.

When his knees gave out, Snape's throat emitted a growl and he hit himself on his upper thigh with his fist, frustrated.

"Hey, Snape, it's alright. You took five steps today, that's a lot," Harry tried to comfort him, "let me take you to the bathroom so you can relieve yourself."

Very gently but still, trying to be as clinical and professional as he could, he held him tighter and took him to the bathroom. He sat him down on the toilet and made sure there was toilet paper within reach.

He tried to lock gazes with the man, but his eyes were pools of darkness. It stunned Harry for a moment, and it dawned on him that Snape must've been trying to occlude his mind, to not be overrun by his emotions.

"I'll be outside," Harry murmured, "once you're done make some noise, and I'll be back."

Feeling a bit apprehensive at the thought of leaving Snape alone with his thoughts when he was feeling all sorts of things, Harry left the bathroom. After all, he'd taken him there to relieve himself and he needed privacy to do so. Besides, perhaps he needed time to be alone to occlude his mind and take control of his feelings.

Harry completely understood Snape's predicament. Seeing his body so unresponsive, so different from the body he used to have, had to be terrible. And to top it all off, he was being looked after and helped by him, by a Potter.

His worst nightmare, for sure.

Harry leaned against the wall outside, listening intently for any sound from inside the bathroom, his heart heavy with concern.

It seemed to have been a theme in Snape's life to be forced to do things he didn't want or wasn't ready for, but he'd always emerged victorious. And now he would too, Harry had no doubt about it.

But he felt sorry for the man, who didn't seem to feel ready to move just yet. Perhaps Pomfrey had rushed into it? Maybe Snape needed a bit more time, maybe some light exercises first instead of plunging into moving around?

Some banging from inside the bathroom took Harry out of his musings.

"Snape? Are you ready?" Harry asked.

Another bang and Harry understood that as the signal.

He walked inside the bathroom, Snape was still sitting in the same position, and his cheeks were flushed with a reddish colour.

Harry walked to him with an encouraging smile.

"Ready to try again?"

But Snape shook his head. He said nothing but didn't even make an effort to get up from the toilet.

Harry then knelt on the floor, right in front of him, and gave him a small smile.

"Hey. Are you feeling alright? Are you in pain?"

Harry wanted Snape to use his voice, now that he had it back. But it seemed he was non-verbal right now.

He shook his head, but it was hung low, decidedly avoiding his gaze. His hair covered his face, hiding him. Harry understood, and while he had moved his hair away and uncovered his face in the past, he let Snape hide his emotions this time. Anything, if it helped in making him feel better.

"It's alright, Snape, you did great. You shouldn't be frustrated or angry because you didn't make it to the bathroom. Remember you nearly died. Moving in itself is a bloody miracle!"

Harry then placed his hands on Snape's bony knees to keep balance, as he leaned closer.

"You took five steps today. Maybe tomorrow they will be six, or seven, or maybe three. In any case, you shouldn't be so hard on yourself."

Snape was listening, but he refused to make eye contact with him. Harry sighed and as gently as he could, he picked the man up, one hand under his knees and the other on his back.

With slow steps, Harry exited the bathroom, with Snape in his arms.

He was taken aback when, as he was slowly walking towards the main room, Snape seemed to hide his face against his neck. And then, his body seemed to curl up against him, his arms around his neck and holding him tight.

A surge of warmth came over Harry, as Snape sought refuge against him, resting his forehead against his neck, his entire body shuddering.

Maybe he was feeling too weak to use Occlumancy, maybe he needed to strengthen his magical core still?

Harry slowed his steps, not wanting to let the man go. And Snape, who hadn't said a word or uttered a single sound, didn't seem too keen either.

Harry could understand the frustration. Snape had been a very powerful wizard, and now, seeing his body so weak that he couldn't even take ten steps to the bathroom must've felt humiliating to him. For someone so independent and so zealous of his privacy, to need help to even relieve himself must've been awful.

Everything Harry thought of to comfort the man fell short, and he ended up not saying anything. He did, however, hold him a little bit tighter to him, and his fingers rubbed up and down his back. He shushed close to his ear, feeling his throat rumble, and Snape pressed himself closer against him.

Once in front of the bed, Harry looked down at Snape. He had almost curled up against him, both his arms wrapped around his neck, and his face hidden in his arms.

Feeling something inside of him break at the sight, he gently placed Snape's bum on the mattress. He didn't let him go, though, both of his hands now coming up to his back. He rubbed it up and down, as one of his hands tangled in his hair, slowly smoothing it.

"You did amazing today, Snape," he whispered close to his ear, "next time you'll do better."

When Snape finally let go of his neck and uncovered his face, his expression was pinched and tension-filled. His eyes, though no tears had made an appearance, were glistening. He angrily swiped at them, wiping the tears that he hadn't allowed to roll down his cheeks, as he lowered his gaze, his pale cheeks flushed.

"I understand the frustration, but it's fine," Harry encouraged, "your body is recovering. You did nearly die, be patient."

Snape shook his head, his hair coming to cover part of his face.

Harry didn't brush it away. But he did tangle his fingers in the dark strands, stroking Snape's marked cheekbone with the back of his finger.

"It's okay, this is like casting a patronus, right?" Harry said in a wild attempt to comfort him, "the first time doesn't work, neither does the second or third. It's the same thing. It'll come."

At that, Snape's expression seemed to soften. He snorted, and he looked at Harry with an eyebrow arched elegantly.

"Your parallels are out of this universe, Potter," he said dryly.

Harry smiled, though, and raised his head in pride.

"Yeah, but you love my wildly ridiculous parallels," he said.

"Oh, where would we be without them?" Snape replied, his voice hoarse and croaky.

But Harry laughed, and Snape's smirk grew just a tiny bit wider.

And with that, his tension started to die down. He pulled the bedsheets to cover his legs and Harry washed his hands, ready to change the bandages.

Snape didn't talk much this time. But his eyes flickered with something akin to gratefulness when, once the bandages were rewrapped, Harry sat back down on the chair and grabbed the Daily Prophet.

"Coffee?" Harry asked. Flickering his wand, two cups of coffee appeared, one levitating towards him and the other towards Snape.

The articles on the issue of the Daily Prophet that morning were a bit on the boring side. But it worked for Snape to calm down and for Harry to stay in his company. Logically speaking, Snape was perfectly capable of being on his own and had been for decades. And yet… Harry couldn't make himself leave.

Not yet.

It was only after a long while, and when Harry had convinced himself that Snape was okay to be left alone, that he went to the Gryffindor tower to work on his assigned duties.

During the entire day, though, Harry's thoughts wandered often to Snape. As he worked on the Gryffindor tower, this time cleaning and tidying with his hands and welcoming the physical activity they provided, Harry thought that Snape must absolutely hate it.

He must loathe to see himself so vulnerable in front of him, the son of his enemy. His enemy, or at least, Harry had been. He only waited for the other shoe to drop, he didn't know when Severus would have enough of this new-found civility they had built.

Not only was Harry thinking about him often, but he also had to fight against his instinct to run up to the Hospital Wing and stay with him. It didn't sit well with him the way Snape had curled up against him and hidden his face, nearly to the point of tears. He had seemed defeated by his body not responding to him when he had knowledge of snake venoms and several magical maladies and injuries. Anyone would know that surviving an attack of that calibre was almost miraculous, and his body was recovering at a good pace. Anyone else would probably be dead.

But of course, one thing was to be aware of it, and a very different one was to live through it and endure it. And to be bed-ridden for weeks on end, with only the matron of Hogwarts and the son of his enemy for visitors must've been taxing for the man.

Plus, Harry remembered, Snape had used Occlumency to keep his emotions under control.

He remembered his fifth year when Snape was attempting to teach him Occlumency. He'd shouted at him that he would be easy prey for the Dark Lord. That fools who wear their hearts on their sleeves, who cannot control their emotions, stand no chance against his powers.

And yet now, Snape had been incapable of using Occlumency. His emotions had been plain clear to Harry, and he couldn't feel more empathy for someone who didn't seem to be used to dealing with his emotions.

Giving up on the fight with himself, that evening, Harry went to the Hospital Wing earlier than usual, so early that Pomfrey was still there. As it was the end of June, the room was empty except for Snape himself, the remaining students had been sent home to rest and recover with their families.

"Potter? You're early today," Pomfrey commented when he saw him coming in, a couple of books under his arm.

"Yeah, I had time on my hands," Harry replied, smiling, "and I wanted to abuse Professor Snape's company a while longer."

He looked at Snape, his smile not wavering, even when Snape arched an eyebrow. Especially when his eyes fell on Harry's books, his eyes flickered with recognition.

"I'll be in my office then, you two catch up. Not that you have a lot to catch up on," she said, winking at them.

Harry chuckled, but Snape shook his head.

"She's right, you know. We are spending an awful lot of time together lately," Harry said, "I just hope you don't get tired of me too soon…"

"I just might…" Snape warned, but Harry laughed.

Over the days since Snape had recovered his voice, Harry had found out that he actually did have a sense of humour. And it was a kind of humour that Harry enjoyed. He often found himself giggling or chuckling at Snape's comments and remarks, and what was more surprising, he had sometimes sneaked glimpses of Snape attempting to stifle smirks or sneers with Harry's comments.

"So, what is it you bring there?"

Harry then showed the two books she'd taken with him: Potions for Mediwizardry and Advanced Potion Making. Snape's eyes immediately recognized the old battered copy as his own and picked it with gentleness.

"I thought you would get rid of this, once you knew it was mine…"

"I did. But not after that, earlier. After what happened with Malfoy… I was afraid. I hid it in the Room of Requirement," Harry said, "I admit I'd become… quite obsessed with the book. It helped me."

"It helped in cheating and creating a name for yourself with Horace when it wasn't your merit to do so? Yes, it bloody well did," Snape said, sarcastically.

"Oh come on, don't be like that. And that was only one part of it," Harry said.

He then touched the battered and fragile cover with his fingertips, almost with reverence.

"I almost felt like… the Half-Blood Prince was speaking to me. As if he was my friend. His comments made me giggle, I can now easily recognize your humour in them," he said. "This book… it was with me for almost the entire year, and it got me through some pretty nasty stuff. I was quite fond of it."

Snape lowered his gaze, fixing it on the battered book as well.

"Even after knowing it was me?"

Harry leaned forward, his voice lowering a notch.

"Not when I found out it was you, no. I was angry at you for killing… him. Of course I wasn't happy," Harry admitted, "but… I recovered it a week ago, and I've been re-reading parts of the book these last few days. There were some comments I almost knew by heart. And it made me reconnect with that young man I liked."

Harry smiled, feeling the heat rising to his cheeks.

"I see that man now. A bit older and more hardened, but I see him in you," Harry said.

Snape shifted his gaze, apparently not knowing how to respond, his cheeks a faint colour.

"And why have you brought these books here, I wonder?"

Harry then nodded, looking at the books.

"I was thinking that… I don't want to be an auror. I know that for sure," Harry said, "but besides that, I'm not entirely sure what to do. Looking after you made me consider Mediwizardry as an option… but I need Potions for that."

Snape looked at him, a surprising expression on his face.

"Mediwizardry?" he asked, "I thought you'd be delighted to capture more dark wizards."

"I'm done with that, I could do with a bit less danger in my life," Harry replied with a terse smile. "I was thinking of asking McGonagall to return to Hogwarts for my seventh year since I missed it. Finish my studies, take my NEWTs, and decide exactly what I want to do and what I'm good at."

"You're good at Defense, I think we can agree on that. False humility is not your strong suit," Snape replied.

Harry nodded.

"I know I am, but I had to be good at it. I had no other option. Now there are other paths I'm willing to explore," Harry replied.

Snape looked at the books, his frown deepening as he thought.

"So… do you think I'm doing the right thing?"

"Is my opinion so valuable to you?"

"Of course it is, I can't believe you would say that!" Harry said feigning offence.

"Brat," Snape replied.

Harry smiled, and in a gesture that surprised even himself, he blew raspberries at him.

Snape stared at him wide-eyed, until his stern face fell. He smirked, not even hiding his grin.

"So, you can handle one more year with a Potter at school, right? You won't kill me if McGonagall lets me back?"

Snape raised his gaze, a mischievous smirk coming at his lips.

"Don't tempt me, Potter," he simply said, but the smirk didn't disappear. And Harry laughed, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned back on the chair.

"I wonder, why did you bring the books to me?"

"I need to know what other books I will need for my seventh year, or eighth, besides these. I will need to catch up for sure," Harry said, "and I want to be prepared."

"Taking your studies seriously for the first time in your life?"

"I always did, but with a madman wanting to kill me, it was hard to concentrate on exams, you know?" Harry tried to justify himself, "my future used to only have one goal, kill Vold-the Dark Lord," he amended the name after seeing Snape shudder so many times. "Now… for the first time, I see a future in front of me, and it's blurry at best. I want to be sure of what I choose."

Snape nodded, seemingly understanding.

"I'll compose a list of books for you to take in the following days, they are all available at the library," he replied.

Harry then beamed at him.

"Thank you, Snape. Truly," he said.

Snape dismissed him with a gesture of his hand, but Harry's smile didn't disappear. He moved the books away and got up.

They tried going to the bathroom again. This time, Snape managed six steps before his knees gave out.

Harry felt the now familiar tingling sensation intensify when he wrapped his arm around Snape's back, keeping him steady as he placed one foot in front of the other on his wobbly legs. This time he was able to see Snape's knees shaking before his strength gave out, and he held him more tightly against him to keep him from falling to the ground.

"Six steps this time, that's great!" Harry said, smiling wide, "you're getting better at this."

Snape looked away, however. When Harry placed him on the toilet, Harry tried to make eye contact with him, but Snape refused.

He sighed, leaving him on his own to do his necessities. When he returned after hearing the banging on the toilet, Snape was avoiding his eyes.

Harry didn't know what else to say. He felt he had already said everything that would change Snape's mind, only time and practice until his body was more responsive would help.

Very gently he took him into his arms, and contrary to what he would expect, Snape accommodated better in his arms, resting against him.

"You're doing great, Snape. Don't let this get to you," he whispered as he took him to bed, "you're making great progress."

Once Harry placed him on the bed, exhausted, Snape sagged into the pillows. Harry rearranged them behind him.

"Are you comfortable?"

He didn't speak, didn't seem to have the energy to do so. He pointed at the pillow right behind his back, and Harry took it out so he could lie more comfortably in bed.

"You shouldn't exert yourself so much, Snape. Be patient, these things take time and we've only just started," Harry reassured him.

Harry washed his hands, as it was customary, and proceeded to change the bandages on Snape's throat. The wound was very nearly healed, the skin around it scarred and still a bit tender, but looking much, much better.

"I wish you could see the wound, Snape. It's looking fantastic," Harry said as he applied the salve with his fingers.

Snape arched an eyebrow at him, his face an expression of sheer sarcasm, and Harry giggled.

"Well, as fantastic as a snake wound can look; if you get my meaning," he added, to which Snape just huffed, annoyed.

Harry didn't say anything else as he worked and then reapplied the bandages. Then he sat back down on the chair, and Snape, too spent to even speak, opened one eye and arched an eyebrow at him.

"I just… I'll get out of your hair in a minute," Harry said, "but I just… I needed to say this. That I know you must be thinking that you hate this, that you hate it's me who is helping you, who's seeing you in such a vulnerable position."

Snape had focused both of his eyes on him now, listening to Harry's words. His voice was trembling slightly, and Harry swallowed.

"But I need to say that I won't hurt you," he continued, "I know we were enemies since we met, but we aren't anymore, I think these past months are evidence of that. I just… I just want you to heal."

Harry leaned forward, placing his arms on the bed, close to Snape as he smiled at him, looking at those eyes that now looked so sad and frustrated. Harry hated seeing these emotions on Snape, they just didn't suit such a man.

"And as much as you hate this, remember you almost died almost two months ago, and your body is recovering at a normal pace. Nothing to be ashamed of."

Snape nodded, his eyes blinking slowly.

His bony hand travelled to Harry's, which was beside his. And he took it into a gentle hold, squeezing it.

Harry looked at their joined hands, feeling heat rushing to his cheeks. For some reason, this time Snape's touch held something else, there was something in the way he gently held his hand, in the way he squeezed it.

When Harry locked eyes with Snape, his heart ached at the sadness and frustration etched on his face. But there was also vulnerability in those dark pools of darkness.

Snape hadn't spoken, but his eyes seemed to speak by themselves, revealing a side of himself that Harry had only recently been privy to. A side that stirred emotions deep within him, and made him wish to be able to comfort that pain and frustration.

Snape didn't speak, but Harry stayed with him for a long time, their hands joined. And when Harry smiled at him, Harry thought he'd seen a ghost of a smile on those lips.