Severus
The world kept turning.
Severus fully recovered his mobility and function on his right side, but he kept a nasty scar on his neck and a faded, light grey mark on his arm to remind him of those days, as if the nightmares weren’t enough. He helped with the efforts to repair Hogwarts and only occasionally looked at the news. He enjoyed the fact that he didn’t have to keep up with all the current events anymore.
It was mostly celebrations, anyway. A new beginning for every individual, business, and organisation. Harry was the most popular figure. Sometimes Severus helped him with the press, and the reporters got used to seeing them together. Even Granger and Weasley accepted his presence at publicity events. With their help, Harry handled it well.
The funerals were the hardest part. They developed a system of sorts, depending on the funeral. When Severus was welcomed—or at least, tolerated—they went together. Sometimes they sat together. After each one, no matter if Severus was there or not, Harry would spend the evening with his friends, and then he would come down to the dungeons. Severus would help him clear his mind: their compromise in order to avoid overdependence on Dreamless Sleep. Harry learned Occlumency quite easily.
They had several long conversations, but avoided many topics.
As summer deepened, the renovations on Hogwarts were completed, and the day came for them to move house.
Severus heard Harry come into his quarters, opening the door loudly and stomping across the floor to Severus’ bedroom, where he was packing his clothes.
Okay, maybe he wasn’t being objectively loud. Severus was just used to being very quiet, and alone.
Harry leaned against a bedpost in an overly casual stance, one hand in the pocket of his jeans. Obvious: hiding something. “So, I was thinking,” he started.
“Call the Daily Prophet,” Severus responded, waving a stack of trousers over.
Harry huffed. It must be a Gryffindor habit; Minerva did the same thing. “I’m serious. So, you know how you gave me your memories?”
“As well as I remember you returning them,” Severus nodded. Harry had returned his memories as soon as they were both awake at the same time. They had had a few long discussions about their contents.
“Yeah. So…I thought it would only be fair if I, um, gave you some of my memories in return.” Harry took his hand out of his pocket and held out a vial full of a cloudy silver substance.
Severus stared at him. Harry was always a very obvious person, except when he wasn’t. Did he not understand what it meant to share one’s memories? “You wish to give me your memories?”
“I mean,” Harry grinned awkwardly, rubbing his neck. “More like, y’know, lend? I’m hoping you’ll give them back when you’re done, of course.”
“Of course.” Severus was not at the top of his game.
“I figured it was fair, y’know, ‘cause you gave me so many of yours, and I feel like I know you pretty well, but you don’t know me as well, at least, especially not the stuff we did this last year…and I didn’t really want to have to tell you all about it over tea or something.”
Severus studied Harry, still holding out the vial of memories. Harry’s Gryffindor sense of fairness was strong, to be sure, and Severus wasn’t sure how he had managed to survive so long with that mentality. But now, at least, Severus could more directly help him. “You realise this does not preclude the necessity of talking about those things,” he stated.
Harry squinted at him. “Uh…yeah? I mean, I don’t need to talk about it. I know you must have a lot of questions, and this is the most direct way to answer them.”
Severus took the vial and tucked it into a pocket. “Nevertheless, it will behoove you, sooner rather than later, to speak to someone about recent past events, especially the most negative ones. I am of course available wherever you are ready.” That last line came out smoothly, thanks to his practice.
“Oh.” Harry looked like he was beginning to regret giving Severus the vial, which was why he had already taken it. “But…not yet, right? Like, not today?”
“No.” Harry looked relieved. Severus summoned his shirts and began shrinking them. “Today, we are moving house. Are you prepared to leave after dinner?”
“Yeah.” Harry grimaced. “Mrs. Weasley tried to get me to stay at the Burrow one more time, but I managed to distract her with wedding plans.”
Severus smirked. “Perhaps in that case you will be glad to leave.”
“I mean…” Harry looked conflicted. “I hate to leave Hogwarts, as always. I keep thinking there’s one more thing to repair, one more wall to reinforce. I haven’t even gone over the fourth floor.”
“You do realise the entire castle is not your responsibility,” Severus said, although he knew Harry had indicated such before. “There were many responsible wizards and witches who love Hogwarts just as much as you do who have taken the utmost care. And Minerva has the ability as Headmistress to know when the work is complete.”
“I know,” Harry huffed. He flopped on Severus’ bed, tipping over a stack of jumpers.
Severus glared. Dramatic boy. He shrunk the jumpers and packed them in his suitcase. “Were you able to secure an owl for our use this summer?” As neither of them had an owl anymore, they had decided to borrow a school owl, which was not uncommon. Given the amount of communication from friends and the press (mostly for Harry), it was necessary but difficult for Harry.
Harry didn’t even see Severus’ glare as he doodled random shapes in the air with his wand. “Yeah,” he answered dully. “A brown one. Wobble.”
“Wobble?”
“Apparently he liked to try to carry heavy packages when he was just an owlet.”
Severus hummed and pushed Harry so he could gather the spare robes he was lying on. “Sounds like someone I know.”
Harry looked at him with a considering expression but didn’t say anything. Severus had to bite back the impulse to snap at him, all of the sudden wondering what he was doing taking Potter into his home. Continuing his duty…surely he could claim his work was finished by now. The boy was of age, after all.
“Do you think we’ll ever forget?” Harry’s voice was small and young.
Severus paused in shrinking a stack of books. He studied Harry, who continued looking up at the bed canopy. His furrowed brow suggested he wasn’t just seeing green velvet. “No,” he said eventually. He tried to speak gently. “You don’t forget those things, they just get farther away with time. And you deal with them rather than simply occlude them away,” he added dryly, trying to lighten the mood. In an effort to truly help Harry recover, Severus had had to admit that he used Occlumency to avoid dealing with memories, and Harry had been quite…helpful when he had called him out on it.
Harry didn’t seem to even acknowledge the joke, however. His lips quivered, then tightened. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.
Severus sighed. He had hoped to keep things light today, to make this move a positive thing. But apparently Harry was not recovering as quickly as Severus had thought.
He pushed aside his suitcase and sat beside the young man—or really, the boy. Seventeen or not, Harry still needed a lot of help, patience, and support. Lily was right—he needed Severus, no matter how inadequate Severus felt. He had learned a few things, though.
Severus rested a hand on Harry’s forehead, automatically checking his temperature even though he knew he was fine, and brushed back his unruly hair. Harry turns towards the warmth of his palm, closing his eyes. Severus ran his fingers through his hair, rubbing a soothing pattern that he knew would make Harry relax.
After a while, though, Harry’s breath began to deepen, and while Severus knew he needed the sleep, they also had a schedule to keep. “We need to go up to the Great Hall soon for lunch,” he reminded Harry, nudging him to sit up.
Harry groaned. “Just a short nap first.”
“You sound like Weasley.”
Harry grinned and slowly sat up, slumping against Severus for a moment before standing and stretching. “You could be talking about any of the Weasleys, for all I know. You could call him Ron.”
“Perhaps I will do so when he graduates. Or when pigs fly,” Severus countered. “Now, I do believe you have not packed all your things.”
“How do you know?” Harry grinned and headed for the door. “I could have, already.”
“And I could have danced the twist,” Severus muttered. “Harry?”
Harry looked back in the doorway.
“Thank you.”
He had Lily’s smile.