Unforgivable Promises

Unforgivable Promises

Chapter 21

-----

When his potion had cooled, Harry bottled it and cleaned up after himself, unsure if he should remain. Snape came to his corner of the work room and examined the results of his brewing.

"This looks adequate. You may return to your dorm with it, or leave it here and I will see that Madame Pomfrey gets it. Have you applied any to your hand?"

"Oh," Harry said, feeling foolish. "I guess I don't really need it any more. All the brewing worked the cramp out."

Snape nodded in response. "I will show you out, then."

Harry shifted his weight. He did not want to leave yet, not if Snape still needed his company. "Okay. If you want to be alone . . ."

"You are out far later than you should be already. Professor McGonagall would not be pleased were you to remain. You have classes tomorrow; surely you need some sleep."

"I suppose. What about you? Will you sleep?"

Snape gave Harry a careful look before replying. "Eventually. Perhaps." With a gesture from the Potions Master, the wall bled into an archway, and Harry slipped his cloak on and hurried back to his room. As he jogged through the hallways, Harry hoped he had returned some of the strength borrowed from the older man previously.

In the next seven days, Harry's thoughts turned often to his professor. Even that first night, he had given no indication that anything was wrong. But Harry knew very well the man was human and had to have been affected by the news of Kletch's death. And Harry had noticed, that night, that when he had asked Snape if he wanted to be alone the man had never said he did; he simply listed reasons why Harry should leave.

So Harry kept looking for reasons to return. In a week, he had visited twice to ask about spells they were working on with Professor Jones and once to clarify some problems he was having with a potions essay. Every visit, Harry was careful to ask if he was intruding. The man always indicated Harry was welcome, and though they discussed whatever Harry had come about at length, he was inevitably escorted out once the subject was covered. He was no longer telling himself he was trying to lend Snape some comfort. In truth, the man had been through enough in his life to be capable of recovering from the other spy's death quickly enough.

----------

The almost frivolous nature of Harry's visits were not lost on Severus. Any other year, and indeed, with any other student this year, he would have sent the intruder off with a stern lecture about wasting his time on things that could wait until class. But he had long ago resigned himself to the damnable fact that he enjoyed the young man's company. Harry had finally learned that sometimes–most times–silence did not need to be filled. That had certainly been true on the night Kletch had been killed.

There was no doubt the Death Eater had died because of Snape. His body had been dumped in an alley in Hogsmeade, branded with the Snape family crest on his back. The message was painfully clear and not meant for Snape at all. It was a warning to any other Death Eaters who may be thinking of turning. Had anyone but Rosmerta found the body, it would have made the front page of all the wizarding newspapers. The barmaid, though, knew that advertising Hogsmeade as a Death Eater dumping ground would be bad for business, and she saw to it that Albus found out about it before the Ministry.

Snape felt bad for the death, of course, as it was his own actions that had led to it. But Kletch could have refused, too, so the blame was not entirely his. When Harry had come to the room that night, though, the last thing he had wanted to do was discuss it. Harry had clearly sensed as much, and for that he was grateful.

He had cut the stay off, of course, when Harry's potion was ready. As a former Death Eater, he was under enough suspicion. Add to that the extra scrutiny he was under as a gay teacher, and he had always needed to be more careful than others when dealing with male students alone. With the exception of the night Harry had killed Draco, the boy had never spent a moment longer than was necessary for whatever medical or educational need that had brought him.

So, he left it to Harry to come up with reasons to stop by, and he dragged on the answers as long as he could. And for the first time in decades, he spent time with someone simply for the sake of spending time with him.

On Friday night, Albus called the faculty in to his office. The next day would be the first Hogsmeade Weekend of the year, and Severus expected a tedious lecture on keeping the students safe. Albus's news, though, was unexpected.

"An emergency session of the Wizengamot has been called by Minister Bones. She has told me she cannot divulge the details yet. I leave tonight for London and will not return until Sunday at best."

"That is suspiciously convenient," Severus said.

"I agree, Severus. As much as I would like to give the students a break from studying, I cannot justify allowing them to leave the grounds when I have been called away under such mysterious circumstances. I very much hope I am simply being a paranoid old man, but the students' safety comes first."

The rest of the faculty agreed. Better to disappoint the students then to endanger them.

"What shall we tell the students?" Minerva asked.

"The truth," Severus said. Minerva looked aghast at the idea of being so forthcoming. "Not all the details, of course, but it is no secret that the school is safely warded while Hogsmeade is not. And if you are so intent on allowing them to waste a weekend in the village, you can reschedule the outing for next week. Misleading the brats or withholding the need for them to remain on school property this weekend will only encourage them to find their own way to leave."

Albus seemed to be considering his words, surely a first for the Headmaster. "I think I will agree with Severus. Recent history has shown that the students in the most danger are not well served by keeping secrets from them."

With that decided, the faculty returned to their duties. The following morning, Severus had to put up with the incessant whine of upper-classmen during breakfast. After making sure his own House was suitably threatened into remaining at the school, he left the Hall in search of an escape. Harry caught him not ten feet out of the Great Hall.

"Professor Snape," the young man called behind him and hurried to catch up. "The Headmaster was just called away?"

"That's right. Bones has convened the Wizengamot. I do not know why, and that information is not for general dispersal."

Harry nodded his understanding and asked, "Is Vol- the Dark Lord planning something?"

"We do not know. Hogsmeade was canceled simply as a precaution."

"Interesting timing, though. If this wasn't just a way to get Headmaster Dumbledore away for the school, do you think he still knows he's not here?"

"That is likely. The Wizengamot cannot be called without certain procedures being followed. Even lesser Ministry Officials will know of it. Surely at least one of his followers is aware."

"Okay," Harry said frowning. "Oh, uh, will you be in your office today? Or your rooms? I may have some questions about the homework you gave."

"I have not planned my day that carefully. Surely I will be in one or the other, though."

----------

As it happened, Severus spent the morning in his office grading papers and answering Harry's questions. And the boy did have questions. He came by six times before lunch. The questions were hardly worthy of a trip from the library to the dungeons, but Severus humored the boy and answered them all, though his own work required attention and he could not get into the kind of long discussions they had in the past. Harry did not seem to mind, though, as surely he was only making the trip to assure himself of the Potion Master's safety.

After lunch, he was again at his desk. Almost an hour had passed since the meal when Harry again popped his head into the classroom. Amused, Severus said, "Wouldn't it be easier to finish the homework here where you can keep an eye on me?"

Harry blushed. "We Gryffindors aren't know for their subtlety. You don't mind?"

"Fetch your books. And remain quiet." Harry nodded and darted out of the room, returning shortly with his assignment and a few books. Nothing was said until Minerva arrived shortly before dinner.

"Oh, Mr. Potter. I did not expect to find you here."

"Mr. Potter has appointed himself my keeper in the Headmaster's absence," Snape said while Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh, I see," she replied. "Well, I see no harm in allowing you to hear this. I have just heard from the Headmaster. He has assured me that the convention of the Wizengamot was no ploy of the You-Know-Who's. He agreed with the Acting Minister that details should not be discussed via the floo or owl post. It appears we need not be quite so suspicious."

"Well, then," Severus said, "shall we go to dinner? Mr. Potter, you can finish your work on your own, I assume, as the Dark Lord seems uninvolved in the day's events."

"Oh, yeah, I guess I can," Harry said. "But the Dark Lord might still try something, since he knows Dumbledore's not here."

"I imagine he would have tried already if that were the case. I will be fine, I'm quite certain." Harry seemed disappointed, but Severus dismissed his reading of the boy's response. He had spent the entire day in his office. Surely Harry wanted to spend some time with his friends instead of worry needlessly about him.

----------

The following morning, as he pulled his robes on and prepared to head up to the Great Hall for breakfast, Severus learned that his assurance to Harry had been a mistake. Dizziness overtook him as his Mark burned. The pain was dull, less even than a normal summons, but disorientation and nausea struck him as well. Opening the wall took all of his concentration, and he managed only a step toward the arch when he lost his balance. Unable to steady himself enough to stand again, he slumped, gasping for breath, on the floor.

Severus focused on the steadily increasing pain in his arm, hoping the sharp burning would drive away the dizziness, but to no effect. And it ends, he thought, waiting for death to come. His eyes darted around the room and caught the still-open archway. No, Harry will come. He cradled his burning arm and waited.

Though it seemed like hours, it took only minutes for Harry to step through the doorway. "Professor?" he called. "I'm sorry to bother you, but you weren't at breakfast and-" He saw Snape's prone form and rushed over. "Why didn't you get me?"

"Couldn't," Severus gasped. "Knew you'd . . . find me." Harry said nothing as he ran his hand once again up the older man's sleeve. His cool fingers soothed the burning though they clutched him desperately. The student tipped over on his side when he made contact, victim, no doubt, to the same disorientation that the Potions Master suffered from. Still, his grip remained strong and within moments of that first touch the sensations melted away.

Severus freed his arm from Harry's grasp, aware that the young man was, for the time being, trapped in his mind and not in control of his own body. He pushed himself, shaking, into a sitting position and leaned back against the side of his couch. Harry was still on his side, pale. Severus stretched a hand out, but Harry squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head slightly. After several long, deep breaths, the color returned to Harry's face and he rolled over onto his back.

"Thought I was going to be sick there for a minute." The two of them rested on the floor. Severus reflected on the indignity of being found weak and helpless in such a manner and discovered the idea did not trouble him at all. He trusted Harry would never use the incident against him. Finally, Harry spoke again. "How long was it?"

"I am not entirely sure. It struck just as I was leaving, exactly two minutes before the Elves normally set out the food. How long were you in the Great Hall before you came here?"

"Not long," Harry said. "I was only a meter or two inside the Hall when I saw you weren't there. I'm not sure if the food was out or not. Guess I'll cancel my chess game with Ron."

"You will do no such thing. You wasted all day yesterday with me. The Dark Lord has tested that I am protected without Albus here. There is no point in him doing so again."

"You didn't think he'd try at all this weekend," Harry argued.

Knowing this was a losing battle, Severus decided on a compromise. He did not want Harry to feel like he needed to spend every moment with him. Summoning a cork from his laboratory, he chanted a simple spell over it. The small piece of wood split in two equal halves. He handed one to Harry.

"Keep it in your pocket. If I need you, I will activate my half and yours will respond by attempting to rejoin its other half. It is not strong enough to pull you anywhere, but the tugging should be easy enough to feel." Harry frowned at the bit of wood. "I will charm mine to activate if I am in any kind of pain," Severus said. Harry still looked about to protest. "Do you not trust my ability to enchant a simple piece of wood? If I am in any sort of trouble, you will know of it immediately."

"I trust you," Harry said. He still looked skeptical, though.

"Then what is the problem?"

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. After a pause, he said, "Nothing, I guess. I suppose I'm okay to go back to the tower. Can you stand?"

In reply, Severus rose unaided. "Thank you for your haste in coming here." He offered his hand to Harry and pulled him off the floor.

After breakfast–taken in his rooms–Severus went to his office and sat before a pile of papers. Essays needing grades sat before him, but his thoughts strayed too often from his desk to Gryffindor Tower and the boy within. Yesterday, simply enjoying his company had seemed such a strange step. But back in his rooms, laying there as death crept upon him, he had counted on Harry in a way he had never been able to count on anyone.

Severus got no work done that day as he considered Harry's reaction that morning. He should have been satisfied that he would know if the man was in pain. Could it be that he simply wanted to spend the day with him? Certainly yesterday had been spurred by the Headmaster's departure, but the visits earlier in the week had had nothing to do with the Dark Mark.

His thoughts also turned to his own future, his own life, now that he could start thinking in those terms again. His own death was still very likely, if not through the Mark, then through the fighting that would surely reach even the grounds of Hogwarts. He could handle that, though. The possibility of death was nothing new, and in fact was farther away now than over the past few years. Harry's future was equally uncertain, though, and Severus was not sure how to process that.

Finally, ending hours of silent debate, he rose from his desk and returned to his rooms. With a few very simple preparations, he set himself down a path he had long thought would remain untrod by him. Indeed, it might still remain so, and he had no idea where it would lead regardless.

----------

After lunch, Severus sat in his study reading. Having made a decision did not clarify what form his next action should take. Indeed, he was not sure if any action was appropriate. So he resigned himself to simple acceptance. He would remain open to whatever came next.

What came, no more than an hour after Severus had left the Great Hall, was Harry. Severus sensed him tap the alarm stone in the hall and opened the wall for him. The boy entered looking peevish. "I'm sorry, Professor," Harry said quickly, pulling the cork from his pocket, "but I've tried to stop worrying. And I know this thing will tell me if you're hurt, so instead of worrying about you, I spent the whole morning jumping everything time the wind blew, thinking it was the cork pulling. I know it makes no sense, but you've never accused me of being rational about stuff like that. So there's no sense in me trying to play chess with Ron if I can't remember what piece does what. I'm sure you're sick of seeing me, but I promise to be quiet and stay out of your way if you'll let me hang out here, at least until the Headmaster gets back."

Severus simply sat back and let the young man fight an argument he'd already won. When Harry finished, he stood, arms crossed, waiting for the Potion Master's answer. "Call me Severus," he said. That was clearly the last thing Harry had expected to hear. "Given the number of times that has happened . . ." He indicated the section of floor the two had collapsed on earlier. "It seems somewhat petty of me to demand you use an honorific when we are alone."

"Um, if you say so. Severus."

"I do. I intended to spend the day engaged in some light reading. There is a Charms textbook for your level on that shelf over there. If you are going to spend the day protecting me from an attack that will surely not come, you may as well get your homework done." Harry agreed, and found the book in question. He settled onto the couch, leaning against the arm on the far side from the Potions Master. Snape picked up his copy of International Potions Quarterly.

----------

Harry scratched out a few notes and was interrupted by Severus's voice. "Harry, do you recall when you asked me about the uses of dried snail mucous? Researchers in Finland have found that dried frozen mucous behaves quite differently if it remains unthawed while the rest of the potion boils. It needs a cooling charm, of course, and would no doubt require a good deal of skill . . ." His voice died away as his eyes followed the article. Harry simply made a noncommital noise and returned to his reading.

Ten minutes later Harry had another two inches done when Severus spoke up again. "The new Potions Master at Beauxbatons is working on a more stable form of Wolfsbane that can be stored for up to two years." Harry looked up in interest this time, but Severus turned the page and said, "Ah, it is not perfected yet. Apparently the pain it causes is problematic." He flipped to the next page, muttering about the journal's editor for wasting his time with unfinished potions. Harry returned to his essay.

Harry had completed an entire page of notes before Severus interrupted again. "Dragon's blood prices are rising. But they always do this time of year." He had not taken his eyes from the page, and Harry looked up at him to see he was still reading and apparently expected no response. Harry intended to respond, though, and it had nothing to do with the price of Dragon's anything. He opened his mouth, but quickly shut it when a sense of deja vu swept him. He realized that this was exactly what he had talked to Hermione about. Exactly. He was not naive enough to believe it was a coincidence.

"It's not the same if it's not real," Harry said.

Severus looked up. "What's not real? The Dragon's blood shortage? I'm sure it's real, though possibly exaggerated. Many species of dragons hibernate, and as such-"

"That's not what I meant. I'm talking about . . . this." Harry waved an arm vaguely about him. "You overheard me and Hermione, didn't you? It's very nice of you to stage this, but it doesn't really count if you're just doing it because of this morning."

"Ah, I see," Severus replied. He put his book down and stood up. He took Harry's quill and placed it in the inkwell, then took Harry's hand in his. "Come with me," he whispered.

Harry stood and followed the man to the blank wall as the doorway shimmered into sight. With a quick glance down the hall for eavesdroppers, Severus stood Harry in front of the bust of Slytherin. "My doorkeeper," Severus said, nodding at the bust, "has already been instructed to allow you in whenever you ask. Should you be invisible, you must request entrance in Parseltongue as you cannot be identified on sight in that case. I will take my chances with any other Parselmouths with invisibility cloaks that roam the dungeons." Harry simply blinked in surprise. They returned to Severus's suite, the Potions Master still leading him around by his hand. This time, they went one of the bookshelves. Severus pointed to the shelf that Harry had gotten his textbook from.

"All of your textbook are here. I have copies of all the books used in the school, of course, but the rest are packed in a trunk. I only put out the ones I assumed you might want. As for the interruptions while you were trying to work, that was honestly done without artifice. The snail mucous you had asked me about once, and Wolfsbane is obviously of interest to us both. I was simply commenting on the Dragon's blood, though. Thinking out loud as they say."

"Again, I do appreciate this," Harry said. "But I don't understand why-"

"Because I know how you take your tea." His voice was soft again, and more earnest than Harry had ever heard it. "There is a bottle of cream in the pantry over there, charmed to keep it fresh and cold. And the House Elves have standing orders to keep it full."

"You hate cream," Harry said.

"Yes. But you do not, and you are welcome to have tea here whenever you like. You are welcome to study here whenever you like. You are welcome to come and talk whenever you like and, just as importantly, you are welcome to come and sit and not say anything at all whenever you like."

Harry felt overwhelmed. He had no idea what to say, so he focused on the feeling of his hand in Severus's. Now and then, the man's thumb would make a slow circle across his flesh. Finally, Severus broke the silence by clearing his throat.

"Speaking of tea, would you care for a cup?"

"Yes, I would." Harry stepped to the small kitchen with a smile. "I'll make it."

A few minutes later, Harry returned to the living room with two cups. Setting his own on the table in front of the couch, he handed Severus the other. Book in hand, Harry moved his quill and parchment down to Severus's end of the couch and without a word, sat down next to his teacher. He rested his shoulder comfortably against the other man's and opened his textbook.

"Is the tea okay," Harry asked. "One sugar, right?"

Severus put his cup down and shifted his body, bringing his side into contact with Harry's and resting his arm on the back of the couch. It was perhaps the most intimate contact Harry had had with another person since he was fifteen months old. It was enough.

"The tea is perfect," Severus said. "Just as I like it."