Healing

Over the next few weeks people came and left from the hospital wing. Many stared in confusion at Harry's unwavering presence within the castle, even a few daring to question him on it. Question after question. Aurors had become an unyielding presence outside the doors of the hospital wing. The amount of bloodied shells of the former students had lessened over the weeks, yet some still remained staring off dazedly into the distance.

Harry was sure by now that, if prompted, he could recite every single word within the medi-witch training books that Poppy had gifted him. Shockingly, he enjoyed the packed books that contained little to no pictures to help understand. After his second read through of the books Pomfrey had taken to quizzing him on the knowledge within them. During his third reading of 'Magical Resuscitation and Reassurance' Poppy had tapped a new book on his hand. A scoff had immediately left his mouth without hesitation.

"I thought you'd be able to tell from my test results that I don't really care for potions." There was a hint of anger that he immediately felt apologetic about. "Sorry, just not really my thing." Looking up, Poppy had a scolding look on her face that he knew all too well, constantly being in her care throughout his teens gave him an extensive knowledge of that look.

"You can make up by giving it a try, it is more of salves and spells, not strictly potions. Also, not like there is anything better you could be doing." She raised an eyebrow, almost daring him to challenge her. He did not dare to. If anyone knew Harry's daily timetable, it was Poppy. She knew that there was no way Harry would be venturing off somewhere else, unless necessary.

With a begrudging sigh, he took the book from her shaky fingers. Magical Stimulus Potion he noted. Excessive use could lead to exhaustion of magical cores. Not recommended with lack of sleep or stable dieting.

"Phillips still unstable?" Leaning back, he flipped mindlessly through the pages of 'Medical Practical Potions'.

"Yes," A loud sigh left her lips as she looked over her shoulder at the boy. The silencing wards around the corner remained, but Poppy had insisted on opening the separation curtains during midday to let natural light in. "His parents are insisting upon moving him home, to make him comfortable." Her shoulders tensed and her lips pursed.

"Maybe that's for the best." This caused a sharp glare from the medi-witch. "I just mean that it's been a tough month for them and Phillips." He looked over to the adult lying in the bed in front of him. A gentle hand was placed on his shoulder, before fingers ran through his hair.

"I do not give up on my patients, Harry. Yes, magical law may force it but as long as someone wants me to keep going, I shall." A hopeful lightness swirled in his stomach.

"Dumbledore,'' There is a hanging silence between them as Poppy continues to thread her finger through his tangled hair. He takes in a deep breath "He is insisting on 'letting him go'" The hand on his shoulder tightens ever so slightly. "Says that's what Snape would want, with Aurors trying to convict him and all."

"I do not think Albus is right to consider at all that he would ever know what others would want." It is said with such a ferocity that stuns Harry momentarily, before drawing a smile onto his face.

A chuckle escapes the teens lips. "I guess you're right."

An electrical sting ran through Harry's back as he felt the pulsating of his wards. The fingers running through the strands of his hair removed themselves as he turned to look at their visitor. On the other side of the barrier stood Hermione, an inquisitive look stained on her features. Her hair was pulled back and a large book was clutched to her chest. Raising his hand, he allowed the wards to crumble down into nothingness leaving only the faint smell of burnt parchment in the air.

"I've got to get back to work." Poppy made her way across the room with a small smile gifted to Hermione.

The two stared at each other for what felt like hours before Harry looked to the wall. Hermione's focus turned to their former teacher lying lifelessly on the bed.

"How about a walk around the grounds?" She asked quietly as her grip around her book tightened. Shakely, Harry raised from his seat. He spared a look at Snape, placing the book on the nightstand before following Hermione out of the bright room.

A glare was stabbed into the heads of the Aurors that stood outside the room as they tried to approach him. They promptly took a step back with scowls barely hidden. Avoiding their gazes, Hermione focused on Harry's frail hands.

"How have you been eating?" There was a tightness in her voice that gripped and squeezed his heart. When had she started speaking to him with hesitance? Hermione was not one to hesitate, that he had learned painfully. She had never been afraid to state what others carefully tip-toed around, even the subjects that Harry had wished to never speak to others about. That's why he loved her though, she was the only one that he felt he could approach to speak to. Sure, she would sometimes be too invasive with her questions but all he needed to do was to let her know and she would cease her questioning all together. So why was there a sudden tenseness there? Had Harry wronged her in some way?

"I am sorry for not writing much," Harry rushed out as he turned to her in the middle of a newly cleaned corridor. Hermione shook her head frantically.

"You have nothing to apologize for," She exclaimed as she hesitantly took one of his hands in hers. "I know you've been preoccupied with everything happening here. I'm the one who should have visited sooner! It's just with everything happening at the Weasleys; dealing with the store while Fred's injuries heal, then there have been the introductions to Mastery subjects-" Harry shook his head, effectively silencing her.

"Don't worry about it, we've both been occupied." Hermione nodded sharply and squeezed his hand tightly in her hold.

"I know you do not want this to be asked, there are probably groups of people hounding you about it right now," Her thumb ran over the back of his hand, tracing over the deep lines that still remained from his fifth year. "How are you Harry? Not emotionally, the answer to that is clear, I mean what are you doing? I hear you have mostly been in the infirmary, by Snape's bed, but are you doing anything else? Helping with things here and there maybe?" Harry could not help but let out a smile at that.

That was Hermione, she knew his soft spots and never pushed at them. Sure, when they were younger she would push, but she learnt soon enough that Harry spoke when he was ready for it. Instead she took what she knew about Harry and would see if he was avoiding the things that got him stuck in the places that led him to speaking. It had been around the third year that she noticed it. Being left out, left to his own devices was not a strong point for him. Being left to spiral into his own thoughts and drown himself in that unforgiving lake was not a good thing for him. After she came to that realization, she would keep him busy. Dragging him to the library, to the Black Lake or even just on random walks around the school became a common occurrence. There were times that Harry felt guilty for it, feeling that he was using Hermione in some sense, but she quickly put him in his spot when she heard he felt that way. That night, the one sitting alone by the lake, had been one of many tears and heart wrenches but they had come out of it even closer.

"Poppy has got me reading some medical texts, mostly smaller ones on simple wounds," Hermione perked up at this "Since there are still a few patients left in the wing, she was me helping change the bandages."

"Are you okay doing that?" It was a simple question, but Harry knew there was a deeper layer. It was something that they did. A simple question hiding something deeper was so much easier to answer than a sharp question that stabs into you for a sudden answer.

"I struggled at first, but I am better now. Sometimes I have to pull away, take a break, but it's fine, I suppose." Meeting her eyes, Harry noticed a fond look glaze over them. His chest tightened as she smiled widely.

"Well, of course, everyone needs to step away occasionally." She let go of his hand and continued to walk, he followed at her side. "I've been taking a good healthy break from my studies, god knows I have been working way too hard on them." Her posture straightened as she smiled at him.

"Your words or Ron's?" He smirked and raised an eyebrow. She copied this.

"Molly's."

"Understandable." They both laughed at this, lasting a few unconditionally happy moments, before slipping into a comfortable silence.

They walked through the corridors, before heading out toward the quidditch pitch. Once there, they walked around, slowly slipping into occasional conversation about the Weasleys or Harry's new subject of study. As the sky began to dim, they made their way back to the castle. Before they could enter the infirmary however, she placed a light hold on his upper arm. Turning to her, a small smile sat on her face.

"Magical healing, do you think you will continue with studying it? I mean once you are out of the wing. Is it something you think you might want to go forward with?" They stood in silence as Harry thought over it.

"Honestly, I don't know. I hate healing open injuries... But the applying of salves and administering potion has been okay so far. The theory is also interesting to read. Why exactly?"

She let out a sigh as her finger raised to rub at her temples. "Ron is still adamant that you just need time," Harry tensed at this "He keeps saying that you will sign up for Auror training soon. I keep telling him that you have said that you do not wish to go into that field of work anymore, but you know how Ron can be sometimes." Her face scrunched together comically.

"Tell him to lay off it. I will write to him myself and tell him I'm not going to." Hermione nodded with a frown.

"Okay then. Well, you are free to go back to your bedside studying." He turned back to the door, before her voice stopped him in his tracks once again. "Is... Is he doing any better?" Harry froze in his spot as he took a deep breath. In and out.

"His airway has cleared up but that doesn't mean that he is suddenly going to decide to wake up." He kept his eyes fixated on the large door in front of him. A sigh slipped from Hermione's lips behind him.

"Keep me updated?"

Harry nodded and soon heard her footsteps receding down the echoing corridor. Softly, he leaned his head against the door in front of him, taking deep breaths in and out. It will be fine. It is just a waiting game. He reassured himself. If the Dursleys had taught him anything at all, it was that patience was rewarded, at least sometimes. With that thought, he pushed open the door to the infirmary and was greeted with Poppy peering out from behind Severus' curtain.

"Everything fine, Hun?" Her voice was chipper, forcing a smile onto Harry's face.

"Yeah, all fine."

She nodded and opened the curtain, allowing Harry to catch sight of the male's still body. Another deep breath in and out. Poppy made her way over, flipping through some papers held in her hands. She passed a paper to Harry.

"It is growing, slowly. Your heart is close to being covered with it." Her voice was quiet as she held her hands in front of her stomach. Harry stared blankly at the paper. In and Out.

"Is there a time limit yet?" He did not look up from the sheet, reading over the words 'terminal' repeatedly as he tried to process them.

"No. We do not know what the curse will do to you so it is difficult to come up with an estimated time. However, if your breathing and pulse problems continue to worsen at the rate they are," She sighed as her eyebrows scrunched together "A year to three years."

A silence sank between them immediately. A year, that is all he had and that is if it did not worsen which was likely with the curse covering his heart fully. The two still did not know what was causing the curse to stick to Harry, nor why it kept spreading, but it did. So now, Harry was stuck with the realization, once again, that death was inevitable. It did not crush his hope though. There were small moments when he would be staring into space that he thought maybe, just maybe, there was something they just have not thought of. So the two had begun reading older texts, just hoping that something will show. So far there had not been any look. It seems like death just did not want to let him go to life.

"Have you told them? Hermione and the Weasleys?" Stuffing the paper into his pocket, Harry shook his head.

"Don't want them to worry."

"You will have to tell-"

"I know," His voice raised, making him freeze as her eyes widened. "Sorry," He made his way over his usual chair, next to the potions professor's bed. "I just- Maybe closer to the time. I just feel if I told them now we will be thinking about it all the time, it will always be there. But if I tell them closer to the end, then we still have time. Time without death- I mean, I don't think anyone really wants to be thinking of death even more right now." His fingers pulled on the edge of the overly large blanket that covered Snape and draped it over his legs. It was soft under his shaky fingers.

"I understand," The chair next to his creaked, indicating that the medi-witch had sat down. "But I don't think they would want you to be dealing with this alone. And before you say it, I know you have me, but it is not the same. I am a nurse, I am just going to be reminding you of it. It's nice to have someone to offer you comfort. Someone that does not have the knowledge of the details. I imagine it would be nice to have someone to tell you that it will work itself out." She looked at him with a fragile smile, tapping her hand on his. He simply nodded as she stood and took her leave to see other patients.

After a silent few seconds, he leaned back in his chair. His eyes glanced to male in the bed.

"I am dying," The statement came out bland. No filler. No toppings. Without warning, his chest tightened as tears filled his view. "But I don't want to anymore."

He gasped to get some air back into his lungs, but just found himself bending forwards against the bed. Slowly, he snaked his fingers under the blanket and searched for the cold unmoving fingers. Once he found them, he held on tight. He wept loudly as he tried to control his breathing. Memories flashed in front of his mind. The pain of being hit by the curse. The whiteness that followed. The train station that he sat in for hours, just watching trains come and go. The pain he felt as he finally boarded one of them.

All the memories halted suddenly as he felt the hand in his hold tighten back around his.