Back on his Feet
Severus watched the boy who stood looking at himself in the mirror over the sink in the bathroom. He stood on his own two legs now, even if he heavily leaned on the cane Severus had gotten him. It was made of black, polished wood and was decorated with silver runes for both protection and balance and had a dragon head in silver as a hand hold. They were ten days into October and the last of Harry’s bones had been regrown two days before, on the night up to Friday. All but his left leg was in full working order, they were still a bit too brittle, Harry would go on a Bone Strengthening Solution for at least a few months more, but the bones were whole, and they worked as they should. His left leg was more problematic. It had been broken, more like shattered, at least twice before this summer, without any healing at all and thus only been put together by Harry’s accidental magic that had fought so hard to keep him alive and relatively whole all his life, without any help at all. Which led to Harry’s left leg being a complete mess when it had been shattered a third time.
Healer Tonks had begun the healing process, but as of yet she didn’t know if Harry would be able to walk without a cane ever again. At least he could walk a bit and function to a degree, even if she had forbidden him to walk a lot and had told the elves that they would transport him between classrooms, the Great Hall, Severus’ quarters, and the Gryffindor Tower. Harry had reluctantly agreed to call an elf for help, because he had noticed how hard it was to move and how fast the leg started to ache if he used it.
The night up to Friday had been the last round of Skele-Gro and Healer Tonks no longer felt that it was necessary to keep Harry away from life in the castle, and his classes, as long as he took care of himself and retreated if he became exhausted or felt any pain. Some aching was acceptable in the beginning, but not pain. Severus knew that would be hard, not only because Harry most likely felt like he had been weak enough, what with over a month sequestered away and then coming back using a cane, but also because the boy had been in so much pain during his life that he probably wouldn’t properly register what other people would call pain.
The regrowing of his bones had begun with his hands, so Harry had had over a week to try to learn to write anew. Severus was impressed with the results so far. He had given Harry a book on calligraphy with worksheets to help him along and now the chicken scratches that had been almost illegible were completely gone, as Harry had chosen to develop a loopy but elegant script. It seemed he liked to put a flourish to his letters now. He still used the dictaquill for his personal notes when he did homework and for his essay drafts, because he was still unused to writing properly and his hands ached if he worked for too long. He also preferred the dictaquill when he wrote in his notebook, but all in all there were notable improvements.
The whole of Friday morning Harry had spent with Healer Tonks - now Andromeda to Severus and Aunt Andi to Harry when she wasn’t on duty - and Poppy in the Hospital Wing to see what he could and could not do and get a workout schedule to strengthen and stretch his muscles in the most effective, and safe, way. After classes but before dinner, Severus had taken Harry to Diagon Alley for two pairs of new glasses that suited his eyesight now and would change when his eyesight changed because the damage he had taken slowly healed. They had also stopped at Twilfitt and Tattings where Harry’s measurements were taken, and Severus ordered him new school robes and the start of a new wizarding wardrobe.
Harry had been unhappy about it at first, but when Severus asked the shop assistant about the different fabrics and cuts, Harry had become interested enough to stop protesting. Apparently, he had never really thought about what the magical fashion actually was, much less what he himself really liked to wear. This was a new experience for Harry on many fronts. And it wasn’t like Severus was extravagant, he didn’t have the funds for that, but some new outfits so Harry could burn the rags he had worn outside his school uniform in the previous three years, were within his budget. Especially since this shop did better work than Madam Malkins, had both a wider and better array of fabrics and always added three charms of the costumer’s choice to the garments. With a self-adjusting charm for up to two sizes, the new outfits should fit Harry for some time, even if he soon began to put on some proper weight and got a growth spurt or two. With a preservation charm, the garments should stand more wear and tear than other clothes, and with a protection charm to round it off, Harry should have a bit of extra protection in his day-to-day life. Later, Severus would find, or make, some proper protection amulets.
The only reason Severus hadn’t suggested a new trunk too, when they first had been in the Alley, something that was better than the piece of cardboard Harry had gotten for himself, was that Tonks - who preferred Tonks, just Tonks - had offered her own old school trunk. It had been her mother’s before it had been hers. In other circumstances such a trunk would maybe have been as bad, or worse, than the trunk Harry already had, but Andromeda had been born a Black and Black’s bought their possessions to last. With a change of initials on the lid and a proper shining, the five-compartment oak trunk would do very well. It had one compartment for clothes and shoes, one for potions ingredients and equipment, one for books, one for quills, inks, rolls of parchment and other miscellaneous effects and one compartment was almost as secure as a Gringotts vault, because, again, Andromeda had been born a Black, and they were a suspicious lot with a lot of secrets.
Harry had fought against the tears when he had gotten the trunk during the second visit from the Tonks family that Saturday. It had H.J.P in silver on the black polished lid and had hinges, locks, handles and corners in filigreed silver. Later, while Severus watched Harry move his things from his old school trunk and the dresser in his room and into the new trunk, Harry admitted that it was the second thing that he had ever gotten from family that actually held some worth, both emotionally and monetary. The fact that Andromeda and Ted wanted him to call them Aunt and Uncle and had invited him to join them for a day or two during the Winter Holidays, alone or with Severus. And also seemed to enjoy talking to him and listening to him telling them about his life and his studies, and actually care; that meant the world to the boy who had never before, in his memory, had any family that genuinely cared.
Now it was soon dinner time on Sunday and Harry’s new trunk, with almost all his possessions, were already moved to the Gryffindor Tower and he was looking himself over in the mirror before he would join all his classmates and the rest if the school for dinner in the Great Hall for the first time since the Start of Term Feast. He was dressed in wizarding casual, in black trousers, a black silk shirt with a waistcoat in dark blue and silver brocade and a dark blue open robe on top. He had filled out some both in his body and his face and his new glasses, a rectangular silver pair suited his face better than the round pair he had had. Andromeda had cut his hair into a proper shape with shorter hair on the sides and longer on the top, but she had also told him that a trip to the hairdresser should be in his future to do it right.
Slowly Harry turned from the mirror to look at Severus.
“Is it very strange that I don’t really want to move back to the Tower, or meet the rest of the school?” His gaze went to the door into his room. “Or that I feel bad for leaving the first room that has ever really felt like mine?”
“It’s still yours,” Severus soothed. “The bed linens Tonks gave you are on the bed, as are the bedspread and throw pillows from Andromeda and Ted. You left both a pair of pyjamas, some lounge wear and a casual outfit, in addition to some of your books and puzzle magazines. It will be your room for as long as you wish it. I will not even alter the colour on the rug or the throw pillows away from that horrendous Gryffindor red.”
In truth it was a deeper red than the typical Gryffindor red, that combined with the deeper gold and black in the room was far from horrendous.
Harry grinned mischievously at him, something that had only happened during the last few days, most likely when Harry finally could both see and feel the proof that he truly was getting better.
“And my quarters will still be open to you, whenever you want a place to withdraw, require help or desire to talk to me for whatever reason, or no reason at all. My rooms are only open to the two of us, so if you want to have your friends over for a visit, you will have to request it beforehand, but I will almost certainly accommodate you.”
Harry looked uncertain and Severus took some few steps into the bathroom and slowly put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. Harry blinked and looked up into his face.
“I will still be here in the evenings, Harry, and you are most welcome to join me for a cup of tea and a chat, or to sit together and just read or write. If we go past curfew I will provide you with a hall pass, even if the elves will put you directly into your dorm room, or you may spend the night. Our nightly conversations do not have to come to an end, if you do not wish them to.”
That was a bit of an older change by now. For almost three weeks now, Harry and Severus had talked in the evenings, after curfew had come and his friends had gone. It had begun with talk about Alphas and Omegas and everything Harry didn’t know and wanted or needed to know about it, and about courting in general and their courting in particular. Severus had read aloud from sources, and sometimes translated as he went as there were quite a few sources that were not in English.
They had also compared what their instincts told them about different subjects and Harry had admitted that even if he had stayed with Severus some weeks at that point, he was still leery and confused by the kindness Severus showed him and the fact that Harry’s instincts told him that he could trust Severus. Severus had reiterated that Harry had never had a reason to trust any adults before and that Severus didn’t mind waiting and proving his worth.
He had been afraid that it would be very difficult to prove his worth for Harry after he told Harry about his time as a Death Eater, about overhearing the prophecy that set the Dark Lord after Harry and his parents, and about spying for Albus. At first Harry had been horrified, but surprisingly not angry at Severus, even if he was a bit hurt that Severus had begged for his mothers’ life, and not for him or for his father.
Severus had done his best to explain that it had been impossible to beg for Harry’s life when the Dark Lord feared him as his vanquisher and that everyone knew about the violent rivalry between James Potter and Severus himself. If he had any hope of saving any of them and still keep himself alive, it was only Lily Potter he could have had any hope of saving by begging the Dark Lord for her life. Even if she would have hated him for it, had she survived. Later he had begged Albus to save all three of them, and Albus had placed them behind the Fidelius, and they had trusted the wrong person and died for it.
It had taken a lot of explanation and quite a bit of discussion, but astonishingly, before the conversation ended, Harry understood why Severus had done what he had done, in the situation he had been in, even if he wasn’t happy about it. As he put it, Severus had after all not known that the Dark Lord would target the Potters and he had tried to make up for it by going to Albus to get him to protect them. And in the end, it had been Pettigrew that had betrayed them and the Dark Lord who had killed them. What had gotten Harry angry though, was the knowledge that there actually was a prophecy about him. That he actually was somehow touched by fate. That he had ranted about, fury in his green eyes, for almost fifteen minutes. Severus had let him rant and rage. He would have done the same, in Harry’s place.
It was during one of those conversations that Harry had brought up that Severus had stroked a patch of unmarked skin on his shoulder, that first, dreadful night. Severus had begun to apologise for touching him without asking, but Harry had surprised him and asked why he never had made any move at all to even pat his hand or arm or anywhere else that wasn’t hurt, after that night. Severus had admitted that he hadn’t thought Harry would welcome any such contact, given Harry’s history with adult males in general and their history in particular. Harry had whispered that he had no idea if he would like any kind of physical contact with him, or anyone else, because he had so little data to go on, at least in regard to contact that were both kind, requested and not overwhelming. After asking first, Severus had carefully taken Harry’s hand between his own and stroked the back of it with his thumb. Harry had begun to cry silently, but had not wanted him to let go.
After that night Severus had begun to initiate careful contact, because he had realised that Harry would probably never get up the nerve to ask again. And because if he didn’t try to get Harry used to being in close proximity to people, he might never stop being skittish of physical contact, and that was no way to live. Not if it was because of abuse and trauma, and not a voluntary choice. Severus no longer asked first, he just made it very clear that he intended to put a hand on Harry’s shoulder or arm and gave Harry more than enough time to say no. As Harry seemed more and more at ease with it, he seemed to have succeeded thus far.
“Do you understand, you are always welcome, Harry, at my side or in my quarters or anywhere else I might be.”
“Yeah,” Harry swallowed and looked him in the eyes and put his own hand over Severus’ on his shoulder for a moment. It was the first time he had done anything like that, and even if it didn’t last long, it was a step in the right direction. “I understand. Thank you, Severus.”
“Good. Now, I will ask an elf to move both of us this time, so you will not have to appear in the Great Hall alone.”
“How long do you think it will take for people to figure out our connection?” Harry asked while leaving the bathroom.
“Most likely shorter than you would wish, no matter how hard we try to keep it quiet,” Severus said.
“You don’t mind people finding out?”
“I am not the one the students are going to harass, Harry, unfortunately. Nevertheless, I hope you trust me when I state that I’m determined to do my best to keep the students, and the professors, in check. I also hope you will come to me directly if anything uncomfortable should happen.”
“I will try,” Harry looked down, but then he gave a sigh and squared his shoulders. “There is nothing to do but try my best.”
“That is all any of us can do, Harry.” Severus placed a slow hand on his shoulder again and squeezed briefly before asking Sage to transport both of them to the entrance hall. From there Harry went into the Great Hall first with Severus several steps behind him, already glaring at all the staring faces, including those from the professor’s table.
All he had told any of the professors, except Albus who knew more, was that he had taken over as Harry’s magical guardian as the last one had let Harry live in an untenable situation. And that Harry had been kept sequestered in Severus’ quarters for over a month, on the orders from a Healer, to heal from a lifetime of abuse. As Harry’s professors, they unfortunately had to know that much, because they had to consider that Harry couldn’t move like the other students. Also, there was the fact that he would need help to regulate his magic output to start with, as he now had access to a lot of magic that had worked to keep him alive for years, and that he now could use in spellcasting.
Some people looked away when he scowled at them, but far too few to suit him. Harry’s friends had known that he would join them tonight and had placed themselves around the chair that Harry needed to use, because getting his stiff leg over the bench and under the table wouldn’t work. He saw nothing but smiles from the children around that chair, but he also saw Harry flinch when Mister Weasley slapped him on the back and again when Miss Granger hugged him hard from the side while the Weasley twins cheered from across the table.
Severus had thought that his careful orders to not touch Harry without explicit consent these past weeks would get them all out of the habit of almost assaulting him, but it seemed he had to explain the situation to them in an even clearer manner. Harry would like to be touched, but not suddenly and not hard, and he needed to see it coming and agree before he could enjoy hugs.
Yet again he decided to do his best to get Harry used to physical contact, but also that that physical contact would be something he would like to experience and preferably something he would soon be able to comment on, whether he liked it, disliked it, or preferred to be touched in another way entirely. Then maybe he wouldn’t look quite as much like a leaf that the wind blew every which way, while sitting hunched among his friends. A part of him wanted to speak harshly to the teenagers surrounding him, but he knew Harry wouldn’t thank him for interfering, so he would keep himself back for as long as he managed.
“The boy looks like a completely different person, Severus, what did you do?” Minerva commented after he had sat down beside her and begun eating.
“I believe that falls under Healer-patient confidentiality, Minerva.” Severus sipped at his water and didn’t even try to pretend that he didn’t know what she was talking about. The whole Hall still stared at the child. “And also something I, as his guardian, should not answer as that would be a breach of trust towards Mister Potter, and I still have to be very careful about that. Incidentally, you wouldn’t happen to know why Mister Potter is so distrustful towards adults and was under the impression that no one here cared about him, his health and his life?”
She sputtered, but was apparently unable to reply. Which was just as well, because Harry had told him of several occasions where she, as Harry’s in loco parentis at the school, should have stopped and genuinely listened to him. And several more occasions where she should have been able to see, with her own eyes, that something was extremely wrong. He could lay those accusations at his own feet too, but he wasn’t Harry’s Head of House and while he would have, no matter Harry’s parentage, done something if he had actually opened his eyes and properly looked, that was strictly speaking not on him.