Roots

08:00

Draco is unnaturally pale - which is saying something, for him - and he brightens up so dramatically when Harriet lets Ginny into the room, it really is - something.  It's - a lot, is what it is. Harriet, for some reason, is feeling quite emotional - possibly from the general strain of the week.  Her eyes are even a bit prickly - she blinks them furiously, inserting one pinky behind her glasses to press at the corner of her left eye, willing no ridiculous tears to fall.

Of course, Ginny keeps it from getting too heavy by stomping up to Draco's bedside, planting her hands on her hips, and snapping: "Don't you ever do that again!"

There's a bit of ridiculous rowing after that - the two of them sniping at each other even as their hands wander over each other - no where lewd, thank Merlin, given Harriet's still right there - until Narcissa shows up, looking regal as ever - not a hair out of place - of course, she'd looked stunning even in that bloody clearing in the Forbidden Forest where Harriet had died, so it's hardly a surprise.  She expects Narcissa had even gotten dressed up in full, dramatic robes for every single day of Draco's illness - for the normality of it, possibly.  Ginny turns scarlet the moment the Malfoy matriarch is in the room - Severus skulking inside behind her - though she doesn't, Harriet notes with pride, withdraw from Draco in the slightest. Doesn't even take her hands off.

Good. She shouldn't be nervous or ashamed. Ginny Weasley is plenty good enough for Draco Malfoy. More than the prat deserves most days, frankly.

"Draco, my dear - you look dreadful - " Narcissa even sounds bloody put together - Harriet truly does not know how she does it.  Severus moves to stand beside Harriet - knocks his elbow into hers.  Harriet shoots him a quick smile - despite the growing - thickening - tension in the little room. It's not bad tension, necessarily - but there's quite a lot of it.

"I'm fine, Mother," Draco grouses - though, still, a smile lingers around his mouth - for Ginny.  For both of them - his mum and his girlfriend.  "Severus worked wonders - as he always does - "

"Yes," Narcissa agrees - turns to Severus - and, of course, towards Harriet.  "Thank you, Severus, for once again saving my son's life."

Severus - only really grunts.  Harriet nudges him - his nostrils flare.  "He'll be released today," he says rather than acknowledge the thanks.  "Along with all of the others - "

"Yes," Narcissa says crisply - turns sharply to look at both Draco and Ginny again.  "You will both, of course, be coming to the Manor - "

Draco, somehow, despite his recent brush with - if not death then serious bodily harm - manages to flush scarlet.

"Mother - !"

"S'alright, Draco," Ginny puts an arm around his shoulders - Draco looks at her like she's suddenly sprouted an additional head from at least one of her own shoulders.  "We've already spoken.  We'll be going to the Manor."

It's rather funny - to watch the realization settle into Draco's face.  That his mum and his girlfriend have been talking - and, worse, about him.  Harriet struggles - fails - to stifle a laugh - ends up snorting into her hand instead.  Draco shoots her a vicious look - Severus chuckles softly under his breath beside her.

They - she and Severus - excuse themselves shortly after.  Draco has sunk into his pillow and is pouting as he's fussed over spectacularly by both Ginny and his mum. It probably wouldn't be dignified, to linger only to watch him squirm - however much Harriet would like to. Besides - after all that - they all deserve a bit of privacy. A bit of peace.

--

10:00

"It was very nice to meet you, Healer Potter," Frankie says - still so very serious and so very formal - she gazes up at Harriet, intent - still a little too adult.  This time - for the first time - Harriet doesn't hesitate and doesn't hold back - she lifts her hand and places it atop Frankie's head - her fingers brushing the tops of the twin French braids.

"It was very nice to meet you, Frankie," she says.  "And, now that you're not my patient - please call me Harrie."

Now, Frankie smiles: "Really?"

"Yes, really," Harriet bends a little - drops her voice.  "My friends call me Harrie."

"Does Healer Snape call you Harrie?"

For a second - just a second - Harriet swears there's a hint of a mischievous glint in Frankie's young eyes.  She keeps smiling herself - though she lets it sharpen the slightest bit.

"Sometimes," she whispers - conspiratorially - and Frankie giggles loudly - only pretends to muffle it with her hand - both of her parents, signing all of the paperwork that comes with escaping the hospital ward, glance in their direction.  "When he's in a good mood."

"D'you think I can meet him sometime?  He seems so cool - he saved us."

Harriet nearly outright laughs at that - at Severus being described as cool.  And by a kid, at that.  Severus might have a heart attack if she tells him - she'll have to deliver the news gently.  Of course, Frankie's right - Severus has saved them. Again. Even he can't deny the truth of that.

"Come back and visit - not as a patient - and I'll make it happen," she promises - and Frankie beams, rocking backward and forward on her feet.

"Thank you, Healer Potter - Harrie," she says - catching herself on the name quickly. She doesn't specify for what - Harriet imagines any number of things, each of them more ridiculous than the last. Frankie doesn't need to thank Harriet. Frankie doesn't need to thank anyone at all. If anything, Harriet should be thanking Frankie for being one of the few bright spots during this bloody debacle -

"Thank you, Frankie," Harriet says firmly - offers her hand - grins when Frankie shakes it.  "I'll see you soon, yeah?"

"Yeah," the little witch promises - and when her parents call - when she scampers down the corridor to join them - she tosses a wave over her shoulder.  Harriet returns it - smiling.

--

12:00

"Isn't it strange?" Albus says to her when she enters her office around lunch to find him sitting inside it - and at least he's taken up residence on the visitor's side of the desk.  She's not sure she'd handle it with grace if she found him sitting in her own chair.  As it is, Harriet still nearly trips over her own two feet at the sight of him - glares at him a bit when he turns to smile at her over his shoulder.

"What's strange?" she asks - instead of what in the bloody fuck are you doing in here?  Or: how in the bloody fuck did you get in?  This is Albus Dumbledore - she's long since given up on getting him to speak directly - and she's long since given up figuring out how he does things and appears places.  Magic - it's the simplest answer, and it's the truest.  And Albus - perhaps his greatest flaw - he'll never let on his deepest secrets. 

"How quickly this started - and how quickly it ended."  Albus stands in a cascade of robes - lilac, today, and scattered with golden tulips - the kind of thing that would make Severus roll his eyes so hard, they might get stuck that way.  Harriet hasn't the slightest clue how he thought to have access to such robes inside St. Mungo's - unless he went back to Hogwarts only to change and then came back.  Which - it would be very Albus of him, had he actually done that. He faces her - tucks each hand into the opposite sleeve, folding his arms in front of him -

Nerves?

"Yes," Harriet says slowly - eyes him.  "What is it?"

A pause.  Albus keeps on with his smiling at her - but, still.  She feels it.  The - tension?

"I had hoped," he says - finally, "that Severus might be willing to reschedule dinner to tonight."  He speaks - it's not halting - it's not outwardly uncertain - but there's still the barest hint of hesitance.  The slightest suggestion of - something unsteady - and this is so very un-Albus Dumbledore, Harriet, for a moment, is utterly at a loss for words.  "But something tells me," he continues after another of the briefest pauses, "he will be unwilling to let you out of his sight tonight."

Harriet blushes before she can stop herself.

"We can see each other after," she blurts out - and why does she sound so bloody guilty - they're adults.  They're seeing each other.  They're allowed to share a bloody bed - they're allowed to fuck in whatever bloody bed - they're allowed to fuck wherever they please, actually - they don't need a bed or fucking permission.  It's no one's business but their own.  "It's fine - I - "

"It's quite alright, my dear girl," Albus's smile has grown the slightest bit.  "I see very little of Severus these days - but what little I have been allowed to see is - simply breathtaking.  I don't know that I've ever seen him so happy."

Harriet - might combust.  Truly, she might.  As it is - she stops breathing a little bit - and she stares a little bit - and she blushes some more - and Albus, at least, doesn't smirk at her for being such a numpty -

And then, of course, they're interrupted - by Severus knocking only once before nudging his way into the office, too, and stopping short at the sight of Albus having beaten him to it.  Harriet manages to draw one single breath before her lungs fail her again - stick - and she - doesn't do much of anything to react - isn't sure she should - but then, neither of them does much of anything, either -

In fact, for a too-long, horribly strained moment, they simply stare at each other - all three of them - like blithering fools.

"Severus," Albus says - because of course he is the one to break it - and his voice is perfectly polite and perfectly level, but Harriet still hears quite clearly the uncertainty buried beneath it all.  "Hello.  I was hoping for the chance to speak with you before I return to Hogwarts."

Severus's expression immediately withdraws in on itself - so much so, Harriet - because she has no self control - takes the two steps to the left she needs to reach out and lace her fingers through his.  He doesn't resist or withdraw - squeezes, in fact - not hard enough to hurt but enough to make the point.  Don't leave.  Clear as day. 

And that's fine.  She doesn't intend to leave.

"And you thought you'd wait here, then?" he asks - low.  Flat.  Albus's expression doesn't flicker - but it, too, becomes - perhaps a bit fixed.

"I will admit - I thought to find you, I only had to find Harriet," Albus says - perhaps even admits - and Severus's fingers twitch against her own.  "I only wanted to ask - if you are willing to reschedule our dinner?"

He doesn't say it the way Harriet might - with a tentative kind of hope.  Careful - not pushing too hard - too much - too fast.  He says it - evenly, as he has everything else.  He gives none of his own feelings away with his voice - with his expression - though, of course, by being here - by asking the question at all - it gives away enough.  Severus's hand is still tight against her own - his palm is even a bit sweaty.  Nerves.  As nervous as Albus is, maybe, though both of them hide it impossibly well.

"Not tonight," he says gruffly - and Albus starts to nod - and Harriet opens her mouth before she can think better of it.

"Don't - not on my account," she looks at Severus - who returns her stare.  He even tugs her a bit closer - something unconscious, maybe.  He drags their clasped hands near his hip.  "You can - "

"Harriet, dear - " Albus starts - very, very quietly - but Severus shakes his head once.

"I'll not be parted from you tonight," he jerks his chin in Albus's direction.  Doesn't take his eyes off of Harriet as he does so.  "He knows that."

Harriet sighs.  Squeezes his hand.  Even lifts it - despite Albus's rather shameless stare - maybe even because of it - she presses a quick kiss to his knuckles.

"I know," she says.  "I only - "

She breaks off.  She doesn't know what she only - or maybe she does.  She's had the thought plenty during this horrible fucking week.  She doesn't want this shot they have - this shot at reconnection - at rekindling their friendship - and she doesn't care what Severus grumbles about the Headmaster when he deigns to talk about him at all these days - he's full of it - and she doesn't want things to fall apart before they even start because of some twisted bloke with a sick fascination with poison.  Severus is cross - rightly - that Albus had hesitated even for a second to tell him the truth - that Harriet may have been infected - he'd seen it as part of a pattern, and perhaps it had been - she'd never begrudge him those feelings.  But Albus had - even for selfish reasons - told him without being truly forced.  And - baby steps.  Baby steps.  Just like Harriet and Severus had taken baby steps after the war - to get to know each other - to get closer to each other - until finally, they'd fallen together because they'd just fit so well -

Albus and Severus - they need baby steps, too. 

Severus must know that.  He must realize that. 

In fact - she can see it in his eyes that he does.

He sighs.  His nostrils flare.  And he looks at Albus once more.

"Next week," he says shortly.  "I'm fucking furious with you right now.  Again.  I need a week to work through it."

Harriet blinks rapidly - she'd expected honesty, of course - but it's so blunt - so direct - and so, frankly, stripped bare - she gapes at Severus for a moment - and, though Albus doesn't have his mouth hanging open the same way she does - she reckons he probably feels the same way.  At least a little.

The Headmaster recovers quicker - of course.  He dips his head.  Smiles - and it's openly strained - Harriet gapes at that, too.

"I understand," he says.  "I should not have hesitated as I did.  I told Harriet - it was all entirely selfish on my part.  I only told you, Severus, because I knew you'd never forgive me if I chose not to."

"Correct," Severus says - a little waspishly.  "To be absolutely clear - you will not put yourself between us again, old man."

"No," Albus agrees - Harriet blinks rapidly.  And then he beams at Severus, which makes her blink more: "I cannot put into words how much it pleases me, Severus, that you have opened yourself up to love."

Severus rolls his eyes, mutters: "Fucking Salazar," under his breath - and tugs Harriet under his arm and blushes positively scarlet.  Harriet's own face is heated - she barely resists the urge to hide her cheeks in his chest.  Instead - she loops her arms around his waist and smiles at Albus.

Albus nods once more.  "I'll be in touch, then."  Severus nods back - a bit stiffly, but he nods all the same.

The Headmaster excuses himself.  Harriet stays tucked into Severus's side, leaning against him perhaps a bit heavily - though he props her up, his arms sliding around her slowly - almost thoughtfully.

"That was good," she murmurs - tips her head back when she doesn't get an immediate response.  Severus is staring at the window on the far wall, his expression as thoughtful as his body at the moment.

"Yes," he murmurs.  "I do believe it was."

--

15:00

Harriet expects a lot of things when Molly finally claps eyes on Ginny after nearly a week's separation - and she gets nearly all of them right.  The tearful hug for Ginny.  The admonishment: don't you ever do that to me again - Harriet nearly laughs at how much it echoes Ginny's own words for Draco.  The stiff - rather awkward nod for Narcissa - that, too, she predicts.

She does not expect the way Molly flings her arms around Draco's neck, though.  That - she's done a lot of gawking today, but this is a whole new level of shock.  It truly is. 

Draco looks dumbfounded, too - and while Ron, who has escorted Molly here, is eyeing Narcissa - who merely lifts her eyebrows and visibly takes no real offense - Harriet and Ginny both are staring at Molly with their mouths hanging open - Molly, who is squeezing poor Draco so tightly, Harriet wonders vaguely if he's currently able to breathe.

Perhaps she should do something about that. What, with being a Healer and all.

They're near the front doors - the front doors through which Ginny - broke in?  Only a few days ago. If it can even be called that.  Breaking in. There are Aurors - still, for some bloody reason, though none of them are stupid enough to do something ridiculous like trying to arrest Ginny - or any of the other family members Harriet knows forced their way in during this mess - and Healers skulking around and watching them a bit from the corners of their eyes.  Harriet ignores them all.  Bloody fuck - maybe, someday, people will mind their own damn business.

"Let him breathe, please, Mum," Ginny says weakly after a stunned silence - starts to pry Molly off when she shows no signs of letting go after about a minute.  Molly's hair - red cut with more and more grey these days - is getting into Draco's mouth, and he's sputtering in an attempt to get it out again.

"He's alright, Molly," Harriet adds - gently - joins Ginny in the attempt to pull Molly away.  Of course, all this gets her is engulfed in her own tight hug - which, she's not going to complain.  She's always been utterly weak for Molly's hugs - mum-hugs.  She sinks into it, rib-cracking though it is. Draco's free, at least, and is able to breathe fully again.

"Oh, Harrie, dear, I'm so glad you're alright - but, of course, I knew Professor Snape wouldn't let anything happen to you - "

"No," Harriet agrees quietly.  He'd never. And it's nice - it's so nice - that Molly recognizes that. Severus is doing some final clean up on the second floor - otherwise, undoubtedly, he'd be here himself - would probably be pretending not to be flustered by the fact that Molly's effectively sung his praises.  Somehow, in the last half-day, Harriet's maybe gotten too used to having him close by again - she's vibrating a little at having him out of sight at the moment.  It's - lingering - this mess - just like the war did - does, still.  Since this little lockdown episode had been so much shorter - well. 

Hopefully it won't linger nearly as long. 

And she'll see Severus again soon enough, anyway.  When they go - home.

Molly pulls away without having to be removed - she holds Harriet's face in her hands - smooths her messy hair out of her eyes.

They smile at each other - and Ginny and Draco are holding hands - and even Ron and Narcissa look relatively content, all things considered.  Harriet's maybe got something in her eyes again - she blinks rapidly, though it's a bit of a losing battle.

--

20:00

"Good," Severus says lowly - the water beating down on their heads, his lips pressed to her ear - between her legs, his cock moves oh-so-slowly - drags over her cunt - torturous, really, and despite all the whining she's doing, too - and he's definitely getting off on it, and maybe she'll just die, and then he'll be fucking sorry.  "You're so very good for me - "

Yeah, he definitely wants her to die.  He wants her to fucking die.

He's also pinning her wrists to the slippery shower wall so she can't tug at him - can't be demanding the way she wants to - can only squirm against him, and even then, it's not nearly enough - at least they're in her shower, and thank fuck for that.  Privacy.  Being properly alone with him for the first time in ages -

He doesn't fuck her in the shower - they're both too tired - have been since they entered the flat and dumped all their things on the floor at the door - then ate a few bits of questionable leftovers from the fridge.  They'd groped each other a bit when they'd first stripped in the bathroom - snogged a bit - and then, of course, the lazy grinding of their bodies under the heat and spray.  Harriet orgasms - she doubts Severus is the sort to have any sexual contact with her without wringing an orgasm out of her - Severus does, too, though he finishes on her thighs rather than inside her - and they're quiet kinds of orgasms - their bodies don't lock up and twitch and spasm but rather roll against each other - slide against each other - all loose limbs and fluttering touches - pliant before they've even reached completion.

They towel each other off before they slip into Harriet's bed, naked and soft.  Harriet curls into Severus's side - he wraps his arms around her, spreading his hands over her back.  They lay quietly for a time - she gazes at the ceiling for a bit through the soft lamplight from her cluttered bedside table. She's tired - they're both dead bloody tired - but she's not quite ready for sleep yet. Not quite yet. The way he's holding himself - she doesn't think he is, either.

Severus breaks the silence, tracing her spine with light fingers.

"I want you to understand - "

He breaks off just as quickly.  Harriet waits for a moment - then tips her head to look at him - watches his jaw tick - his throat work on a swallow.  She doesn't push - she's quiet - she's patient.  It takes him only a few moments to continue - beats during which she dips her fingertips into the gaps between his ribs.

"I want you to understand - that had I not heard your voice - I would have killed him.  I would have."

Harriet - doesn't tense up.  She doesn't recoil.  The words are - a bit ragged. A bit - sharp at the edges. So very Severus, too - honest, possibly to the point of pushing too far. He clearly thinks he has - his body tightens beneath hers almost the moment he finishes speaking. She lifts herself ever so slightly - meets his eyes when he turns towards her - no matter his fear, he'll face it head on.  His expression is tight.  His grip - on the back of her neck - on one of her arms - it's loose.  As if he expects her to pull away.

It's not that she doesn't believe him.  She does.  She believes him entirely.

"Does that disgust you?" he asks - soft. 

"No," Harriet whispers back.  Doesn't hesitate. "Positions reversed - I would've done the same."

She doesn't say I think.  She doesn't say maybe.  She believes him.  And she knows it of herself, as well.

"He is my friend," Severus murmurs.  "Despite it all. I expected worse from him - in truth. I did. And I think I will - mostly forgive him.  Someday."

"I know," Harriet smiles.  "And I think he does, too."

Severus lifts one corner of his mouth.  His fingers card into her hair - tuck wild curls behind her left ear.  Harriet drops her head back onto his chest and snuggles close.

They fall asleep quickly after that.  They'll sleep, likely, until well after the sun rises on Sunday morning.