Lily's Charm

1996

"Get Poppy!" Dumbledore gasped, finding Snape's gaze.

Harry had no idea what happened after that, as all he could see was Remus.

"Remus," he whispered as he staggered toward his friend. Dumbledore was still kneeling in the fireplace, the upper half of Remus' body lying in the old wizard's lap, his face a ghostly white. Harry crouched down next to his friend, reaching out immediately for the werewolf's hand. Dumbledore didn't try to stop him. And Remus' hand was so cold.

Harry began desperately searching for a pulse along Remus' wrist, and then, purposeful hands were moving Harry aside, pulling him unwillingly away from Remus. "Let me go!" he cried as he struggled against the firm grip.

"Harry."

The deep voice was close against Harry's ear as he was pulled backward into his father's chest. Snape's arms closed around him. The voice sounded unnatural, and panic screamed in Harry's mind. His struggle began anew; he began to thrash against Snape, wildly trying to get back to Remus.

"No! Remus!" Harry fought his father, and the tears were flowing freely as he blearily watched Madam Pomfrey waving her wand over Remus.

"He's alive, Harry. It is all right." Snape's words were soothing, gentling Harry's furious panic, and slowly as the arms tightened again briefly around his chest, Harry began to calm. His breaths slowed with each one of Snape's. Harry didn't relax, though. Even if Remus was alive, it didn't look as if he would remain that way for long.

"The Hospital Wing is secure. We need to get him up there now," Pomfrey was saying urgently to Dumbledore, and the old wizard, looking rough and haggard, was nodding. "Don't move him," Pomfrey commanded as she stepped carefully into the Floo. With her sharp demand for the infirmary, the trio was swept away. Harry tried to lunge for the fireplace, needing to go after Remus, but Snape's arms stopped him.

"Let go!" Harry screamed, trying to twist around to see his father's face. But the arms did not loosen their grip.

Snape's low voice spoke again next to Harry's ear. "We will follow, but you must calm yourself first. Poppy will need to tend to Lupin without interference," he assured him quietly. His father's voice was eminently logical, and Harry didn't give a damn.

He wanted to shout at Snape to let him be, to get off! But the strong arms firmed their grip one more time, and Harry forced himself to stop moving. As the arms relaxed slightly, Harry wrenched himself away.

He headed straight for the Floo, but a wall of black stopped him. "Get out of my way," Harry growled, trying to shove Snape bodily from his path, but two large hands latched onto Harry's upper arms and shook him. Harry glared up at Snape.

"Occlude your mind," Snape snapped, his own glare penetrating Harry's. "Occlusion is not merely an exercise in our training sessions."

"Who the hell cares about my training right now?" Harry shouted back, enraged at his father's stupidity.

"You need to care about your training, precisely at a time like this. Otherwise, it will be of little use," Snape pointed out.

"Just get out of my way."

"Occlude your mind," his father repeated, not moving a centimeter.

Harry turned his head from his father's infuriating gaze. Clenching his jaw furiously, Harry gathered his shield in his mind, wanting to get out of Dumbledore's office. But as he firmed his shield, burying his distressing thoughts about his friend, Harry began to feel a sense of calm washing over him, and as he did, he turned back to Snape, the movement much slower than the first time.

Harry nodded calmly now, feeling much steadier. "Let's go."

Snape moved aside, his face blank, allowing Harry to enter the fireplace first. He stepped in after him. Harry didn't speak as he waited for his father to throw down the powder, and then Harry was stepping out into the infirmary.

Remus was lying in one of the stark hospital beds. Dumbledore was standing next to Remus' head while Pomfrey was gathering supplies from a closet. Harry paid them little attention as he went immediately to his friend's side. It was much easier to see him, now that his mind was closed. He lessened the stranglehold he had on his shields and allowed himself to feel the dull stab of grief.

Harry sensed, more than saw, Snape going over to Pomfrey, hearing only snatches of their brief and hushed conversation, not even trying to separate the two voices from one another. The words simply blended. "...completely drained... barely any pulse... poison... into the lake... I don't know... Albus." The last word made Harry glance over at Poppy, who had used the Headmaster's name almost as an epithet, but before he could wonder over it, Snape was gliding over to Remus' bed.

"Headmaster, I will require your assistance... and I do believe we have a few matters to discuss."

Dumbledore started at the sound of Snape's voice, seeming completely lost in staring down at Remus. When he looked up, his eyes were watery. "Yes, yes... of course, Severus," he said, his voice so haggard, Harry barely recognized it.

Harry took his friend's hand in his own as Dumbledore moved away. Harry didn't even bother to look up when he felt his father next to him. "I will be back when Lupin's potions are ready. Do not leave by yourself," Snape instructed. Harry gave his father a baleful stare, not even bothering to respond. Where the hell did Snape think he was going to go?

Snape said nothing about Harry's lack of response or even the belligerent glare. And he hesitated only a moment before turning to follow Dumbledore into the Floo. Harry didn't watch them go.

"Remus!"

Harry looked up at the anguished shout. Tonks, her hair a mousy brown color, was rushing over to them. Her breathing was ragged as she stopped abruptly by Remus' bedside. Pulling in a sharp breath, Tonks brought her face close to Remus and pressed her cheek to his, cradling the other side of his face with her fingers.

Harry swallowed hard and looked away.

Shacklebolt came in right behind Tonks. He, too, walked with hurried steps, pausing briefly when he noticed Harry beside the bed, and then he continued on toward Pomfrey, who by now was mixing various potions near her office door. The same sort of conversation flowed between Shacklebolt and Pomfrey as the one Pomfrey had just had with Snape.

Shacklebolt, his own face lined with worry, moved over to Remus' bed after the brief exchange. Shacklebolt turned his eyes quickly to Remus and then back to Harry. "Perhaps I should escort you back to Gryffindor Tower. There will be other members of the Order here soon. It may be best if you were not here," the tall wizard told Harry solemnly.

But Harry shook his head vigorously. "I want to stay with Remus."

Shacklebolt seemed to consider that before saying, "You can stay until Dumbledore returns. Then, it will be up to him, I'm afraid." Harry nodded mutely, knowing that Dumbledore would most likely make him leave.

Tonks' face was still buried close to Remus'; her small body was shaking silently. Harry gritted his teeth and slowly built his shields back up again, afraid that he would lose himself as well.

"Mr. Potter, you'll need to move."

Madam Pomfrey was pressing against Harry's arm lightly, urging him gently to move over so that she could tend to Remus. Harry moved closer to the wall near his friend's head, trying not to pay attention to the tear-stained cheeks of Tonks as the witch lifted her head to stare at Pomfrey.

"Poppy... will he--?" she tried to ask, but Pomfrey was already shaking her head.

"I don't know," she answered. Harry silently gripped the side of the bed, wishing he had a chair, as he was beginning to feel very wobbly.

They all watched as Pomfrey waved her wand, stopping at various intervals to chant incantations over different parts of Remus' body. Then she spelled at least four potions into him, just as Snape must have done to Harry after he'd been hurt playing Quidditch. That night seemed so long ago, almost as if it hadn't even belonged to Harry in the first place.

Pomfrey was giving the final potion to Remus as the Floo fired up. Dumbledore stepped out and came immediately to Remus again. "How is he?" he wanted to know.

"No change," Pomfrey's abnormally cold voice informed the headmaster. Dumbledore didn't even seem to notice as he put a wizened hand on Remus' arm. The room was still. And then, without warning, from the Floo and through the hospital doors, the Hospital Wing began to fill with Order members. They crowded themselves around the bed, but nobody spoke.

Harry pressed himself up against the stone wall, trying to make himself invisible, and maybe that way, Dumbledore wouldn't make him leave. But even in his subdued state, the headmaster had apparently not lost his powers of observation. Harry didn't know how long they'd been just standing there, but finally, Dumbledore said quietly, "Harry."

Harry tensed along the wall. All eyes were lifted up to stare right at him. "Professor McGonagall will take you back to the tower," Dumbledore told him. Harry flushed.

"I'd like to stay with Remus," he argued, but the headmaster shook his head.

Tonks opened her mouth, perhaps to lend her support, but Dumbledore spoke before she had a chance. "You can come back later, Harry. But for now, you'll need to go," he said. When Harry didn't make a move to comply, the headmaster ordered firmly, "Now, Harry."

"Come, Mr. Potter," McGonagall urged quietly from the other side of the bed. Harry, not knowing what else to do, let his shoulders droop. Feeling miserable, he spared one last glance for his friend and followed McGonagall out the door.

As they always seemed to do, McGonagall and Harry walked in silence back up to the tower. When they reached the Fat Lady, McGonagall turned so that she was facing him. "Will you be all right, Mr. Potter?" she asked, her voice uncharacteristically gentle.

Harry shrugged. McGonagall patted him awkwardly on his arm and then waited while Harry muttered the password to the befuddled Fat Lady and slipped inside the portrait hole.

Completely oblivious to his surroundings, Harry dragged himself up to his dorm. His feet moved as though by invisible strings, pulling one after another carefully up the steps. As soon as Harry reached his room, which was blissfully empty, he lay down on top of his blankets and just stared blankly at the canopy.

------

"Harry."

The voice sounded familiar, Harry decided as he listened to other voices muttering things he couldn't understand. And then there was a warm presence next to his chest, a gentle pressure on his face. "Harry, what happened?"

Ginny. It was Ginny's hand on his cheek.

But he couldn't tell her. He didn't want to explain that Remus was lying in the Hospital Wing, perhaps never to wake up again. He couldn't tell Ginny that. Because then it would be true. And it couldn't be true. Not Remus. Anyone but Remus.

"Is it Snape?" Ginny's voice asked again.

Snape? Well, maybe not Snape, either, Harry reasoned with himself. Snape couldn't die... who would yell at him, then? Snape enjoyed yelling at him too much to just die. And Remus... well, Remus never yelled at Harry. Remus didn't need to stick around just for that. But his friend would want to come back for Tonks, wouldn't he? Yes, Harry told himself logically, Remus wouldn't die... not when Tonks was waiting for him.

"Harry."

The voice was beginning to sound a bit more urgent, and Harry smiled. Ginny would be there for him, too. After he was finished with Voldemort. Harry wouldn't die, either. The idea was comforting, and he whispered softly, "Don't worry, Gin. I'm not going to die, either."

"Harry?" And then he was being shaken. "Harry! What are you talking about?"

"Harry!" A much rougher set of hands was shaking him now, and he scowled, readjusting his focus and twisting his head slightly. Ron's freckled face was only inches from his own. Disconcerted, Harry bolted up, and his forehead smacked into Ron's.

"Oi! What the hell, Ron?" Harry hissed as he reached up to rub his head.

"Merlin's balls, Harry," Ron breathed, sounding mightily relieved as he rubbed his own head, "what's going on?"

"Harry, what's happened?" Ginny was sitting next to him, looking very worried, and Harry swallowed.

"It's Remus. He's hurt... Pomfrey doesn't know if..." Harry's throat clogged with tears, and he ended up just shaking his head, unable to explain and unwilling to cry.

"Oh, Harry," Ginny whispered, catching on immediately. Without even pausing, she pulled Harry into her arms, and Harry let her, though he didn't move to put his own arms around her.

"I'm fine, Gin," Harry mumbled into the fiery hair, but Ginny didn't let go. After a short time, though, feeling vaguely claustrophobic, he pulled away, and Ginny reluctantly let him go. "I'm all right," he told her. Ginny squinted her eyes in response, obviously not believing him.

"What happed to Lupin?" Hermione, standing next to Ron, asked quietly.

"I don't know. All the Order members were in the infirmary. Dumbledore made me leave," he explained. Ron scowled.

"Where's Snape?"

"He went to work on potions for Remus," Harry answered. He shook himself lightly, not liking the way his voice sounded so pitiful. And Ron and Hermione didn't need to exchange glances like that. Of course his father had to make potions for Remus. He was the bloody Potions master!

"And he just dropped you off here, just like that?" Ron demanded; Hermione elbowed him forcefully in the ribs, to which Ron looked very confused.

"It was McGonagall," Harry corrected. "He'd already left," he explained with a shrug. And somehow, that statement made the two Weasleys scowl harder.

"Harry, Professor Snape is the Potions master. He has to do his job," Hermione tried to soothe him.

"I know that, Hermione," Harry exclaimed, exasperated. Of course he knew that! He didn't expect Snape to sit around the infirmary, waiting for Remus to stir, no matter how worried Harry was about his friend. And Harry wasn't a child; he didn't need to be comforted. He didn't, he told himself fiercely.

"I'm fine," he insisted once more, willing himself to believe it and having no idea why he should feel so lost, surrounded by his three closest friends.

------

Severus was well aware that his son would find a way back to the infirmary. No matter how foolish it would be to go wandering around the castle. No matter how idiotic it would be to enter the infirmary alone, Severus was certain that Harry would; his son's affection for the werewolf was much too strong. And that was how Severus found himself in the Gryffindor common room, hidden underneath a Disillusionment Charm--again.

He had a moment's urge to go up the stairs to Harry's room and put a Sleeping Spell on his son... at least that way he could keep the boy safe. He doubted very much, however, that Harry would appreciate such an action, especially as the infernal Granger girl would likely be able to tell Harry that such a spell had been performed the instant he woke up.

Severus was very good at waiting, having had years of experience in waiting for the Dark Lord, or waiting for Albus and other Order members. Yes, Severus could wait. But this night, as he stood in the Gryffindor common room like some sort of criminal, lurking about for a chance to strike, Severus grew quickly agitated. He began to pace, treading back and forth in front of the fireplace, working himself up enough that he was about to storm up to Harry's room, to demand that the boy just stay put.

And then the sound of soft footsteps, padding on the stairs, halted Severus' movements. His son, looking the very image of the criminal that Severus was feeling himself to be, was all but creeping down the staircase, James' shimmering silver cloak clutched in his hand. Having already erected a shield against eyes and ears that might pry into the common room, Severus waited until Harry crossed the barrier past the last step.

Harry jumped as soon as he saw Severus, his hand flying to his mouth. "Merlin," he breathed. Then his eyes flashed in anger. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

Severus raised a thin brow. "Waiting for you," he explained. "I had assumed that you would not be able to wait for morning to go back to the Hospital Wing." Harry tensed, and Severus hastened to add, "I will take you there."

But Harry didn't relax. If anything, he stiffened even more. "You don't have to come with me," Harry told him, his voice like ice.

Severus narrowed his eyes as he attempted to figure out why Harry would be angry with him. Severus modulated his tone before carefully saying, "I thought I had made it clear that you are not to wander the castle alone... especially at night."

"I have my cloak," Harry told him, a hint of defiance in his young voice. Obviously, Severus had not been clear at all. But that would have to wait.

Ignoring the issue of obedience, Severus commented dryly, "James' cloak is not infallible."

Again the inexplicable tension coursed through his son's body. Then the cloak was pulled protectively against Harry's chest. "You can't have it," Harry informed him, the slight wobble in his voice indicating perfectly well to Severus just how worried Harry was that he would simply wrench the cloak from his grasp.

Severus, considerably bothered by his son's fear, looked away briefly. "I will wait for you if you would like to put it back in your room." He shifted his eyes back to Harry, who was glancing between the cloak and Severus as if measuring how much time he had to secret the silver fabric away before Severus could change his mind.

"All right," Harry finally agreed. Severus watched as Harry went quickly back up the stairs. When his son returned, his hands were shoved deeply into his front pockets; Severus could make out the outlines of his fingers, balled up into fists against the denim. Forcing himself to rid his mind of the deep feeling of grief that was welling itself in his mind, Severus turned toward the Floo.

Harry followed.

Albus was waiting for them, still sitting next to Lupin's bed. The headmaster looked up as they stepped through the Floo. "Ah... Harry." At Harry's quick glance around the room, Albus offered, "I had to send Tonks home."

For some reason, that made Harry glare at the headmaster. "Shouldn't that be her decision, whether or not to leave?" he demanded.

"Perhaps," was the headmaster's customary enigmatic response. Harry looked away from the old man sharply and went to stand near Lupin's other side.

Severus caught Albus' eye and shook his head slightly at the questioning glance. With an almost inaudible sigh, the headmaster stood. "I'll see you tomorrow, Severus. Harry."

"Good night, Albus."

Harry didn't answer, and looking abnormally distraught, Albus left.

Severus moved to Harry's side, waving his wand briefly over Lupin's prone form to look for any signs of improvement. Finding none, he said to Harry, "The headmaster was trying to help."

"He's always 'trying to help'," Harry agreed sarcastically, and Severus studied his son, wondering how much angrier he was going to become over the next few days if Lupin did not improve.

"Would you like a Warming Charm?" he asked suddenly, noticing belatedly that Harry didn't have nearly enough layers on to account for the chill of the castle's night air.

Harry shook his head. As he did, his hair swished away from his forehead and Severus' eyes narrowed at the reddened welt that was beside Harry's scar. Severus reached out a hand automatically toward the injury. He paused, though, as he remembered the last two times he'd tried to touch Harry and the way Harry had pulled away. This time, he didn't stir, and Severus wondered if Harry was even aware that he was standing so near.

Severus' hand deliberately continued its journey to Harry's forehead, and his fingers gently lifted his son's fringe away from the welt, to examine the mark more closely. "What happened?" he asked quietly. Harry blinked.

"What?" And then Harry's hand strayed upward so that it grazed against Severus'. "Oh, that. Just bumped into Ron," Harry explained with a shrug, dropping his hand. Harry turned his attention back to Lupin. "Does Pomfrey know anything more?" he asked after a long silence had stretched between them.

"We've given him the first doses of all the necessary potions, and Madam Pomfrey has started several treatments."

Harry looked up to shoot a glare at the Potions master. "You know that means nothing to me, right?" he asked insolently.

Severus held his son's gaze, unwilling to let Harry see the effect the boy's tone had on him. "Lupin has not begun responding to the treatments, yet," he clarified. Harry glared at him for a second longer and then was staring down at Lupin again.

"Will he?" Harry inquired stonily.

"I do not know," Severus answered, keeping his voice carefully even. He watched as Harry's knuckles turned white and his fingers clenched the bed clothes convulsively. And he continued to watch as his son's lips began to tremble slightly and his breathing seemed to become uneven. Severus scowled.

Lupin, aside from Severus, had been Lily's closest friend throughout all her years at Hogwarts, and Severus had always hated the wolf, even more than he did now. And yet he knew with absolute certainty that he would have comforted Lily had she been the one at Lupin's sickbed.

Why then, couldn't he offer the same to his son? Damn Albus for getting Lupin into this! And curse the werewolf for meaning so much to Harry in the first place.

Severus had no idea how to help his son, standing so desolately beside him. But he could no longer watch Harry in pain and just do nothing, so the Potions master clenched his jaw and did the unthinkable. Slowly, with dread creeping up inside him, he forced his hand onto Harry's shoulder, applying only the smallest amount of pressure.

And that was all it took.

Harry reeled around, flinging himself at Severus so violently that Severus had to take a step back before he was grounded enough to realize that Harry had wrapped his arms around him, the grip so tight, he could barely breathe. Completely unsure of himself, Severus slowly brought his arms up around his son, and after only a second's hesitation, he was pulling Harry close into his chest.

He could feel his son's slight body silently shaking with his tears, and Severus felt a surge of anger at the headmaster for not keeping Lupin safe. The thought was utterly ludicrous; who was he to care about the wolf... but how dare Albus force Harry to go through this? As the protective urges fully gripped Severus, he reached his hand up to gently stroke his son's unruly dark hair. The gesture seemed to break something in Harry. He gulped in a huge gasp of air against Severus' shoulder.

"Shhh, Harry, it is all right," he soothed, surprised at the tone of his own voice, a tone that had lain dormant for almost fifteen years. Harry didn't respond, though he did seem to find some way to press his face even further into Severus' shoulder. The childish gesture pulled something resembling a smile to Severus' lips, while his heart plummeted with the realization of all he had missed with his child.

------

It was a long time before Harry could force himself to move out of his father's arms, and it didn't escape his notice that Snape seemed perfectly willing to let him remain there for as long as he wished. The arms around him hadn't faltered once as Harry had cried, and then even when the tears had subsided, still his father had let him stay.

The entire scenario was unreal. Harry Potter in the arms of Severus Snape, the loathsome Potions master. But Snape hardly seemed to fit that description any longer... to Harry, he felt almost like an entirely different person.

When Harry eventually did step back, his father released him, and Harry looked up, trying to read the expression in Snape's eyes. Harry immediately wanted to apologize for crying about Remus to Snape, of all people. Harry wasn't even really clear about why or how he had decided that his father would be any sort of choice for a source of comfort. He had simply been there.

"Poppy will do everything she can," his father assured as Harry continued to look at him. Harry nodded, knowing such a promise didn't really mean very much.

"What if it's not enough?" Harry knew he sounded forlorn, and the guilt pricked at him again. Snape couldn't want to hear how much it would hurt him to lose Remus. Harry looked away, not wanting to see the spark of hurt or jealousy, or whatever it was that his father must be feeling.

"It does not help to wonder about 'what ifs'." Harry looked up sharply, startled by the pain in his father's voice. "Poppy and I will do everything we can." Snape's voice was firm, and somehow, Harry believed him... no matter that it was Remus who his father would be trying to save.

"Thank you," he told his father quietly, and though Snape looked startled, he didn't comment.

"You are not warm enough," Snape suddenly told Harry gruffly. And with that, Snape pulled a piece of parchment from his robes, and using his wand, he Transfigured it into a thick jumper, adding a quick Warming Spell before handing it over to Harry. "Put it on," he ordered.

"Thanks," Harry murmured as he pulled the jumper over his head, instantly grateful for its warmth. "Where's Pomfrey?" he thought to ask, thinking the mediwitch should be with her patient.

"She is asleep in her office. An alarm will wake her if Lupin's condition changes."

Harry nodded absently. Clearing his throat nervously, he asked quickly, "What happened to him?" He cringed at the silence that followed. It was a short silence, however.

"He was assisting the headmaster."

Harry goggled at him. "Assisting?" he repeated. Harry narrowed his green eyes. "Then why wasn't Dumbledore hurt? At all?" he demanded.

Snape looked extremely uncomfortable, and Harry knew instantly that this had something to do with the way Pomfrey had seemed furious with the headmaster earlier. Dumbledore was responsible for this. Harry had been an idiot to think that he could trust the old man. Before he could say as much to Snape, a shrill buzzing pierced the air.

"Sit," Snape ordered abruptly, pushing Harry lightly toward a chair. Harry obeyed, keeping his eyes on Remus.

Pomfrey rushed out of her office, clad haphazardly in her dressing gown. She hurried to her patient, not sparing a glance for Harry, though she did snap tersely to Snape, "Potions, Severus!"

Snape used his wand to guide an assortment of vials and flasks from the supply closet to Remus' bed. Harry watched, his hands clenched in his lap, as his father and Pomfrey did whatever they needed to do to help his friend. After the dark contents of the final vial were spelled into Remus' veins, Harry thought he detected a slight movement. Scrambling up from his chair, Harry pulled himself close to his friend, leaning in slightly.

Remus' eyelids fluttered open.

Harry held his breath, afraid that if he even moved, Remus would simply disappear. Remus' brown eyes were filmy, and only slowly did they begin to focus. The first thing his eyes found was Harry's face, peering anxiously down at him.

"Harry," Remus croaked, looking all of a sudden relieved. "Did we manage?" he asked, his voice barely more than a scratch. Remus' fingers fluttered by his side. Harry reached for them, squeezing gently.

"Remus?" Harry questioned, having no idea what Remus had been hoping to 'manage'. His friend didn't answer him, but Harry felt the slight pressure of his fingers on his own. And then, Remus drifted off again, his eyes closing as though weighted down with sand. "What happened?" Harry asked quickly, his eyes darting to Pomfrey.

She ignored him, waving her wand over her patient again. She looked quickly up to Snape. "I need more of your Elixir," she told him. Snape nodded.

"I will retrieve some," he assured her. After a pointed glare which Harry immediately understood, Snape used the Floo to return to his rooms.

"Will he be all right now?" Harry asked the mediwitch.

Pomfrey seemed to see Harry for the first time, though she only glanced briefly at him before continuing her wand waving over Remus. "His response is encouraging. He needs your father's Elixir before I'll know anything more," she told him.

Harry stared at her. "How did you know about us?" he asked, stunned at the revelation.

Pomfrey glanced up again, raising an eyebrow slightly. "It was a bit odd to watch Severus restraining you so gently in the headmaster's office."

Gently?

"The headmaster explained everything," Pomfrey elaborated. "They should have told me immediately, of course," she murmured almost to herself before turning her attention back to Remus.

Harry didn't have any more time to wonder about this development as his father was re-entering the room. He held a vial out to Pomfrey, who spelled its contents into her patient. Nothing happened, and Harry felt a wave of disappointment wash through him.

"It will be a few hours before we know anything else," Pomfrey added at Harry's crestfallen look. Then to Snape, she said, "Severus, I'll need fresh batches of all the potions as soon as you have them ready."

Snape nodded. "I will see to it," he promised. Pomfrey nodded briskly, and with a final glance between Harry and his father, she returned to her office.

"You need to return to the tower," Snape said quietly. He turned, beckoning Harry to follow.

"Can I come with you?" Harry asked quickly. His father stopped walking. "To help with the potions Madam Pomfrey was talking about, I mean," Harry rushed to add.

"They do not require much attention," his father informed him stiffly.

"Oh," Harry said as he nodded, trying not to allow his disappointment to show. He didn't know what had possessed him to ask anyway. Going back to the tower right now, though...

"You may come with me, however...if you wish."

Harry grinned. "Really?" he asked, his eyes brightening, and then he quickly toned down his overeager excitement. "Sure," he agreed with a shrug. Snape nodded, his eyes shadowed. Harry followed his father to the Floo.

Harry felt a peculiar sense of relief course through him as he stepped from the Floo into his father's sitting room a moment later. It was, however, with much awkwardness that father and son stood in Snape's quarters, facing one another.

"What is the Elixir for?" Harry asked finally, when the silence became too heavy.

His father hesitated again before answering, "Madam Pomfrey hopes it will restore most of Lupin's strength back to him."

"Will it?" Harry quavered, stepping closer to his father in his excitement.

"If anything will work at all, it will be that particular Elixir," his father said carefully. "Madam Pomfrey will call me when she knows anything. I will need to bring the other potions then," his father explained. Harry smiled. His father abruptly changed the subject. "I trust your friends know you meant to leave the tower tonight?" he asked.

Harry nodded, and then his gut clenched at his father's look of annoyance. "It's not their fault, though," he quickly told him, imagining the sorts of detentions Snape would dole out to his friends for their 'lack of judgment'. "I promised Ron I'd wake him up to come with me," he added.

Fully expecting his father to reprimand him for his idiocy, Harry bit his lip while he waited. But all Snape said was, "I will give you some Floo Powder so that you may contact me should the need arise again."

Harry was too dumbfounded to respond, and then the Floo roared up and Madam Pomfrey's face was floating in Snape's Floo. "Severus," she said with a rush of excitement. "Your Elixir has already begun working. How did you manage it?" she demanded, her eyes shining.

Harry turned expectantly to his father, not really understanding what had happened, but Pomfrey's mood was catching. Snape shifted slightly. "I enhanced certain properties," he told the mediwitch.

"Wonderful, Severus," she said happily and then turned immediately to Harry. "He's going to be recovering for at least another week, but he'll make it," she told him happily.

Without thinking, Harry let out a whoop of joy and grabbed his father's arm, forgetting himself in his delight. But as soon as he realized that he had latched onto Snape's arm like some sort of child, Harry stepped back quickly.

"Sorry, sir," he apologized and then flushed at that as well. "Can I see him?" Harry asked, turning back to Pomfrey, rushing over his gaffe.

He sighed, though, when the mediwitch shook her head. "He's asleep again. You can see him in the morning. Not before," she insisted when Harry looked about to argue.

"We will see you in the morning," Snape intervened, and with a firm nod, Pomfrey disappeared.

Harry turned back to his father. "He's going to be okay?" he asked, needing reassurance, even though Pomfrey had just said as much.

Snape nodded, though, actually seeming to understand. "The Elixir was designed to restore his strength. He will be able to heal properly now," he confirmed.

Harry grinned, allowing himself to feel relieved now that his father had agreed with Pomfrey's diagnosis. Harry, feeling suddenly very tired, sat wearily on his mother's sofa. Snape was watching him very closely, and Harry remembered his earlier behavior as he father stared. "Erm... sorry about before... calling you sir and, well, grabbing your arm, I mean," he said quickly, having no idea why he would even think it necessary. "Well, I know you don't mind the sir part, really... it's only--"

"Harry," his father interrupted him, and Harry quieted, grateful for the interruption, "do not be so hard on yourself." He paused and then told Harry quietly, "I did mean it when I said that you may call me what you wish."

Harry looked up in surprise, and then he frowned, not able to stop the look of hurt that probably crossed his face. "I thought... well, I thought you wanted me to--"

Snape stilled him with his raised hand. "Do not misunderstand me, Harry. But this is not about what I prefer. I do not wish you to feel unduly pressured."

Harry stared at his father, trying to figure out what the man was trying to say to him, having not even realized that he was still feeling some level of discomfort about the whole issue. And Harry was positive that Snape had been hurt when Harry had called him Professor. Was he really willing to put his feelings above his own? Feeling extremely guilty, Harry said quickly, "I don't."

Snape raised a sardonic brow. "You do not need to lie to protect any feelings you believe I might have."

Harry pursed his lips. "I'm pretty sure you do have feelings," he said, trying not to sound as annoyed as he felt. Why couldn't his father just admit for once that he might care about something?

But typically, Snape waved a dismissive hand. "My feelings, such as they, are of no consequence."

Harry groaned. "You sound like a head case, you know that? 'Such as they are'?" he mocked.

Snape raised his eyebrows at Harry, not looking at all offended by Harry's insult. "You are meandering far from the point," he informed him.

"I think you prefer it that way," Harry retorted, but then sighed. "Fine, though. Back to the point. I could just call you Snape," he suggested with a small smile, hoping to bring a bit of humor into this overly complicated discussion, wanting to call his father that about as much as Snape wanted him to.

"Is that how you think of me?" Snape asked suddenly, peering closely at Harry, and Harry blanched, wishing he hadn't made the weak attempt at humor.

"Erm... well, I guess," he answered, trying to figure out if that was really true.

Snape nodded. "Perhaps it might help, then, were you to start thinking of me as Severus."

Severus? Harry quickly shook his head in dread. "Uh, no, sir. I don't think so."

Snape tilted his head, obviously curious about Harry's panicky reaction. "Why does the idea bother you?" he wondered.

Harry swallowed rapidly, having no idea why he felt all of a sudden so nervous. He didn't know why the idea of calling Snape by his given name should bother him so much. It just sounded wrong. "I just can't call you that," Harry told him, having no other explanation.

Snape shook his head, his eyes lighting in understanding. What could he have possibly understood? "I did not mean you had to call me Severus... only that it may help to refer to me that way in your own thoughts. To your friends, as well," he added.

Harry cocked his head, considering that. He wasn't exactly sure how that would help, but he was also aware that he hadn't actually referred to his father as Snape to any of his friends in... well, not for a long time, anyway. So Harry nodded at Snape's suggestion... Severus' suggestion.

The name sounded very strange, even in the privacy and relative silence of his own thoughts. But he had to admit, it did make him feel a bit less muddled, though he also wanted to tell his father that he had enjoyed the feeling of calling someone Dad... of calling Severus Dad. Harry didn't even know why it should be so difficult; he'd already said it once. Why was the second time so much harder?

Harry leaned back into the comfortable sofa, letting his mind wander as his father continued to watch him. Harry smiled as he thought of Remus. He would see his friend soon, maybe talk to him. His smile grew as he thought of his father, who had spent the night preparing potions for Remus. He closed his eyes, thinking about Snape coming to get him in his dorm, so that he could check on his friend.

... And Severus had held him and let him blubber about Remus... his father had held him... He felt warmer as he thought about it, so warmed that he imagined a blanket was being draped over him... He smiled as a familiar scent of cloves drifted over him...