Chapter 7
The next day, the atmosphere in Hogwarts was tense. News of Harry’s collapse had spread like wildfire, and students whispered anxiously in the corridors, speculating about what had happened.
Ron and Hermione sat at a table in the Gryffindor common room, their books open in front of them, but neither was reading. Their minds were occupied with thoughts of Harry—his sudden departure from Defense Against the Dark Arts, his terrifying encounter with Voldemort, and the strange, almost paternal way Snape had cared for him.
“Do you think Harry’s okay?” Ron asked quietly, breaking the silence.
Hermione sighed, her brow furrowed in worry. “I don’t know, Ron. But whatever’s happening, it’s serious. I’ve never seen Professor Snape so… so protective before.”
Ron frowned, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, it’s weird. I mean, Snape’s always been a git to Harry, but now… it’s like he actually cares.”
“Maybe he does,” Hermione said softly, remembering how Snape had still been there when they visited Harry in the morning. “There’s so much we don’t know about Snape—about his past, about his true allegiances. Maybe this is his way of… making amends.”
Ron looked skeptical, but he didn’t argue. “Well, I just hope Harry will be alright. We need him, Hermione… I don’t know what we’d do without him.”
Hermione nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of Ron’s words. “We just have to trust that Professor Snape and Dumbledore know what they’re doing.”
But they didn’t know. Not for sure, at least. Harry’s case was unlike any other. It wasn’t simple possession or a light curse. It was a web of complex magic that frayed and tangled the more one tried to handle it.
Snape was starting to learn that the complexities of Harry’s connection to Voldemort were deeper than he could have imagined, and in the morning as he left the young man – when the demands of his work left him no alternative - all he could think of was the feeling of Harry’s limp, lifeless body in his arms.
He couldn’t focus at all. Much like the students, Snape was entirely distracted by news of recent events, or rather, his involvement with them.
On any normal day, the well-learned Potions Master would squash out all unrelated, nonsensical talk in his classroom, but as whispers underlined the currents of his voice, he could not bring forth the concentration to pinpoint their origins and eliminate them.
At the conclusion of every class, Snape hastily seized the opportunity to check on the placid Potter, laying limp on a bed in the Hospital Wing. And though he was worried terribly for the boy, he found a slight calm knowing that right now, as weary as he was, Harry had been resting in peace.
As the garish light of sunset began to filter through the windows of the infirmary, Snape took a chair near Harry’s bedside. He knew Harry's two friends would be here shortly after dinner when Madame Pomphrey allowed it, and for once he was grateful for the ginger freckled and know-it-all Gryffindors.
"You have a way of inspiring loyalty, Potter." Snape whispered. "It is a sign of the strength you possess, whether or not you know it's there."
Snape sighed and watched over the boy for a time, worrying that another sleepless night by his side was to come. And with every breath of his, he waited anxiously, expectantly, until finally, with a great deal of effort, Harry's eyelids parted.
“Professor?” Harry’s voice was raspy, a mixture of confusion and lingering fear. “What happened?”
Relief washed over Snape’s senses, threatening to part his mask of indifference in two.
Quickly, Snape clung to Harry’s words and focused solely on the question asked of him. It was the only thing preventing him from revealing the depth of alleviation he felt at hearing the young man’s voice again.
“The Dark Lord invaded your mind.” he said, and Harry winced.
His memory of the event was hazy at best, but flashes of Voldemort’s presence and the intense pain he had felt began to resurface. He shivered involuntarily, his skin growing cold, and Snape noticed, reaching for a blanket and pulling it up around Harry’s shoulders.
“You’re safe now, Potter,” Snape reassured him, though his voice still carried the weight of everything that had happened. “Dumbledore has reinforced the wards around you, and I have been standing by as you rest. The Dark Lord will not be able to touch you here.”
Harry pretended to believe it were true, and his gaze refocused behind Snape, where Ron and Hermione entered the room.
“Harry!” his friends called as they ran towards him, ecstatic to see him upright. They flung themselves at him in an embrace, and Snape almost reached out to pry them off, worried that they may smother the young man.
“I’m so happy to see you’re alright!” Hermionie exclaimed.
“Yeah, mate. You had us scared right! Glad to have you back.” Ron offered.
“Thanks.” Harry said, laughing slightly, and Snape felt the smallest sensation tug at the edge of his lips at the heartwarming sight - a grin.
“Oh, and thank you, Professor,” Harry said quietly, his voice sincere. “For helping me.”
Snape didn’t respond immediately, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—a brief, almost imperceptible acknowledgment of the gratitude Harry was offering. “For now, Potter, you must continue to rest,” he said finally, his tone strict once more.
Harry let out a small chuckle at the response, and Snape felt a slight pang of amusement himself, though he didn’t know why.
“He’s probably right.” Harry admitted more to himself than to Ron and Hermione. They too, had wished for Harry to have a speedy recovery.
“Then we should get going.” Hermionie said.
“We’re just glad to know you’re alright.” Ron added, and the two stood.
“Just don’t do anything dangerous while we’re gone, okay?”
“Wouldn’t dream of it!” Harry playfully replied.
“That’s the point!” Ron retorted, and they all laughed as they waved goodbye for now.
“You have good friends.” Snape said as Harry’s attentions returned to him.
“Yeah.” Harry agreed as exhaustion pulled at him once more.
“Rest, Potter.” Snape told him. “I’ll keep watch.”
Harry was overcome by a strange sense of comfort, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to completely relax. Just as it had been before, the words calmed his mind, and swiftly led him into a warm, deep, peaceful sleep.