Chapter Ten

The room was a little chaotic as everyone came to terms with everyone else. Mrs. Malfoy could not quite decide where to stay, until her son smiled rather gently, and told her to go sit with Severus. She hugged her son close, and he held her as tightly as his tired body could manage.

“I’ll never forgive him,” Mrs. Malfoy whispered to Draco, and Harry only heard because he sat by Draco’s side.

“It’s okay, mum,” Draco mumbled into her hair. “I’ll be okay.”

She pulled back, and pushed a strand of hair out of his face, eyes filled with tears and love.

“Go sit with him now,” Draco said. “He needs you. And Father won’t hurt you. He won’t hurt anyone anymore.”

Harry heard the dark pain in Draco’s voice. It tore into him and he wanted to kick and scream at Lucius Malfoy for hurting everyone Harry ever cared about.

Meanwhile, Ron took Hermione in his arms. She sighed contently, and wrapped her arms around him as well.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, I didn't realise…" he mumbled to her.

She pulled away slightly to look at him. "How could you have known? He looked exactly like me. And he’d changed his voice—and it wasn’t for that long."

"But I feel like—" he began. “I should have known it wasn't you."

"How? Not even Dumbledore noticed it wasn't me. As long as he went to the library and pretended to read about poisons, how could you have known?"

Ron kissed her forehead. "I'm still sorry."

Hermione smiled at him, and placed a hand on his cheek. Gently, she pulled his head down and his lips met hers. The kiss was filled with love and reassurance, something they both needed at the moment.

"Don't worry about it," Hermione said after pulling back.

Suddenly, Ron looked over at the fake Hermione on the floor. His face crinkled in disgust.

"What?" Hermione asked, confused.

Ron closed his eyes. "I just realised that I've kissed Lucius Malfoy."

An hour later, the fake Hermione on the floor, bound from head to toe, began to change back to Mr. Malfoy. 'She' grew taller, and the curly brown hair was turned blond and straight. The soft female form flattened out, to the thicker male body.

Dumbledore had made couches for Ron and Hermione to sit on, and he himself was seated in a rocking chair. Madam Pomfrey moved between her room and her patients' beds, as well as scowling at Dumbledore for letting so many people stay in the room. Harry sat by Draco’s side, but had yet to say a word. Draco drifted in and out of sleep.

The room was silent. Everyone seemed deep in thought – or they were unconscious or asleep, as three of the room's occupants were. No explanations had been made, and none seemed to be forthcoming any time soon. Harry assumed they were waiting to fit the puzzle pieces together until Snape and Draco were both fully awake. Right now, no one would be able to concentrate on anything else.

Harry looked over at Snape, and could not help but allow a tiny bit of hope into his heart as he saw that some colour had returned to Snape's cheeks. Not much, but enough for a person who had been staring at that very face for a whole night to see the difference.

"He—he might actually make it, mightn't he," Harry said softly, more to himself than to anyone else.

Dumbledore gave him a small sad smile. "We still don't know, Harry. Hermione's potion may be the antidote, and it may even make him better for a moment, but we don't know if his body can take it. He's had the poison in him for a week; that’s never healthy. His lungs and heart may not regain function as before."

Harry nodded. That was the reason he had refused to hope – he knew that Snape was far from out of danger yet.

Ron looked down at the floor where Lucius lay bound. He felt rather sick when he saw that it was really Lucius lying there now, no trace of Hermione left in him. The older man glared around the room with hateful fury, and Dumbledore kept a close eye on him. Lucius had begun moving once, and the Headmaster had stunned him, leaving him unconscious for a while. Ron had all but cheered.

"Well, now that he is back to himself, I believe I should go contact the Ministry," Dumbledore said. "I will be back in a moment."

He stood, and faced Madam Pomfrey. "I trust you to keep him secure."

She nodded to him, and he left the room and the wing.

Silence once again fell over the room. Harry's eyes still flitted between Draco and Snape, his eyebrows knitted in a frown. Ron watched him curiously. He wondered what had made Harry change his mind on what he felt about Malfoy so completely. He knew that his best friend's opinion of Snape had already changed; that was both easier to see and easier to pinpoint when it had happened.

The change of heart on Malfoy's front, however, did not seem clear in any way. Except, of course, that it had happened. There was no way Harry would be watching Malfoy so intently if there had been no change.

Why would Malfoy willingly take a cursed gem meant for Harry? The git nearly died for Harry. Why?

Confused, Ron looked over at his girlfriend instead. He stood up, and walked over the short distance to her.

"You look tired," he said to her, standing behind her. He put his hands on her shoulders and began massaging gently.

"You try being kidnapped," she said, looking up at him with a slight smile. "It's not all that much fun, you know. Mm, that feels nice."

He smiled, glad that at least something was right in his world. Hermione would stand by him, even when the world around him fell apart. Harry might decide to suddenly like Snape and Malfoy, and Lucius might try to kill Snape, and Dumbledore might be mysterious as always, but Ron would still have Hermione.

It felt really good to know that.

Kingsley Shacklebolt and Maria Moonstone, both Aurors whom Narcissa had met before, entered the room a while later. Dumbledore walked behind them, and showed them Lucius. Narcissa did not want to watch – hatred welled up within her every time she glanced down at her husband. He had nearly killed their son in his stupid wish to get revenge. There was no forgiveness she could ever offer him, and she did not believe he wanted it. He was only angry now, that he had been caught, and that Severus had not died.

Not yet, at least, she thought, great agony piercing her heart.

Lucius’ eyes screamed murder upon seeing Dumbledore, but he was given no chance to speak as the Aurors whisked him away by way of Levicorpus.

“Mrs. Malfoy, if you would please come with us?” Dumbledore asked. “I assure you, we will give you notice of anything that changes for Severus or your son – but your statements are necessary—”

Narcissa looked at her son, and then at Snape, who lay so grey and still on his bed. She knew her son would be all right – he was merely sleeping after all, and he had been awake before, and she had held him – but Severus—would he live? Her heart broke when she thought that he might not be – then who would she turn to? Who would be there for her? Who would love her? Who would she love?

She rose, her movements precise and controlled, and followed Dumbledore out.

Draco woke again, and breath caught in his throat as he got his first good look at his beloved godfather. He had seen him before, when he had woken up; his mind had still been hazy, his eyes not used to the brightness around him, and too many people had stood between him and Severus.

Now he saw the grey colours of his godfather’s face. His breathing was still shallow and suffering, his body shaking with cold, yet his forehead shining with pearls of sweat.

"Can't anyone do anything?"

His voice was raspy and dry, barely more than a whisper.

He found Harry by his side – a healthy Harry, without cuts and blood and death all over him. The memories flashed before Draco’s eyes – his father’s hawk, the green gem in its claws. He had thought it was all lost then, but he had tried anyway – tried to get Harry out of danger.

He could still feel the excruciating pain of the curse, ghostly knives, sharp and precise, cutting him. He had screamed, he knew, and he wondered if Harry would see him as weak now. He hoped he would not – he hoped for something entirely different.

“Shh,” Harry said, placing a straw to his lips and allowing him to take a sip of water that tasted foul. Or perhaps his throat was simply so dry, that nothing would taste good. Draco did not know.

“Do something,” Draco said again, when he had taken several sips.

“We have,” Harry said. “We used the blood, just like you said. Hermione figured it out—she gave him the antidote. Now we’re just waiting.”

“For what?” Draco asked, before he could help himself.

Harry did not answer; he looked away as he placed the goblet of water back on the stand beside the bed.

Draco could feel his body go numb.

It can't be—Father cannot succeed! his mind screamed. No, not 'Father'. Only 'Lucius'. He is not my father, and will never be.

Harry pulled the sheets back up over him, tucking him in. Draco wished he could enjoy the feeling, but fear for his godfather made it impossible.

“Where is my mother?” he asked softly.

“She went to give her statement to the Aurors,” Harry said. “She’ll be back soon.”

He reached out then, and touched Draco’s cheek. Draco gasped at the touch, and looked up at Harry. Dark hair fell into those green eyes, and Draco wished he could concentrate on the moment. He thought he could see caring in those eyes.

He doesn’t care about you, Draco thought. Pity you, maybe, but he doesn’t care.

Harry leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Draco’s forehead. He lingered there for a moment, his lips against Draco’s scarred forehead, and he breathed in. Shocked, Draco stared at him when he pulled back.

“Thank you for saving my life,” Harry said softly.

Draco realised he had his mouth open already, and he stammered a bit as he replied, “N-no problem.”

Harry smiled slightly. He glanced over at Severus, and then at his friends. The Weasel and Granger sat together on a couch that did not usually exist in the Infirmary.

“We’ll talk, later,” Harry said, “when we’re more in private.”

Draco smiled hesitantly back, although any happiness he could possibly feel about Harry wanting to be alone with him, was squashed as soon as the thought of Severus passed through his mind. If Lucius succeeded in murdering Snape, Draco would not be held accountable for his actions. In fact, even if Snape lived – and oh, how Draco prayed he would – Draco would hunt Lucius down and make sure he paid for his crimes.

Then Harry pressed a vial to his lips, and Draco trusted that Harry knew what he was doing, so he drank. Moments later, his world went black as he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

When Friday morning dawned, Harry refused to go to class. Hermione and Ron, however, left for breakfast and to attend Transfigurations and then Herbology. They had promised that they would take notes for him as well. Hermione had both hugged him tight and kissed him on the cheek as she left. Ron had given him a quick hug.

Dumbledore had been forced to leave. He had meetings scheduled that he needed to go to, and the school did not run itself. He had asked the house elves to serve Harry breakfast in the Infirmary. Dobby had served him, although Harry barely touched the food.

Madam Pomfrey had left for her room, organising or de-organising, by the sound of it. She had been upset still, when she left. After all, she had known Professor Snape since he was a little boy, when he first started attending Hogwarts at eleven years of age.

Therefore, Harry now sat alone with Draco and Snape. Draco still slept; the potion would work for a while longer. There was no need, Harry felt, for him to be awake through these agonising hours. If things began looking worse, Harry would give him some wake-up potion, and the young Slytherin would be able to say goodbye.

So far, however, things did not look worse.

The small amount of healthy skin colour that Snape's face normally held had returned, and Harry, who had been listening to his breathing for almost twelve consecutive hours, knew that it had gotten better. The rasp had gone, his breathing now calmer. Madam Pomfrey had fed the Potions master one of his own strengthening potions, which seemed to help. A vial an hour would be administered until he woke up.

Harry rose from Draco's side, where he had stayed despite the fact that he was long since out of danger.

He sat down on the side of Snape's bed rather than in one of the chairs this time. He took Snape's hands in his, and began talking quietly to him.

"You need to wake up, Sna- sorry, Professor Snape. Sorry. I'm just—I'm quite used to my professor being up and looking stern and being horrible, and you're just not like that right now." Harry's voice trailed off, and he sat silent for a moment before continuing. "You still need to wake up, though. You see Draco’s over there and he’d be devastated if you, you know— And quite honestly, I wouldn't deal with it all that well either. So, all I need you to do is wake up and start spewing rude comments to me. Well, you don’t have to spew stuff – you could be nice for a change, but that might give Madam Pomfrey a heart attack—"

Harry ended his short monologue in but a whisper. A lone tear was making its way down his cheek. It fell off his chin and hit the professor's pale hand. Harry did not notice – what he did notice was the slight pressure Snape suddenly put to his hand.

"Professor Snape?" Harry said, his voice suddenly filling with hope that he could not hold back.

Once again, he felt a slight pressure.

"Come on, come on, you can do it," Harry chanted, as much to himself as to Snape.

The professor's eyes fluttered, his eyelashes moving just slightly.

"Come on, come on, wake up, Professor Snape," Harry mumbled.

It took Severus every ounce of will in his body, to press his eyelids open. He let them fall back down, blinking a couple of times at the dim light of the room, before he focused on the boy before him. Harry grinned madly.

"'ott’r," he managed to croak out.

His throat felt dry as a desert, and his eyes hurt even from the mild light in the room. His body felt as though it had lived through hours of the Cruciatus curse.

Yet something was missing.

The burning… It's gone!

"Good morning, Professor," Harry said to him, very quietly. "I think there will be quite a few people that will be happy to hear that you're awake."

Severus shot him a questioning look, wondering what he meant by that. When he looked around and saw that he was in the Infirmary, he wondered how he had gotten there. He remembered—he remembered stairs from the night before. Or perhaps more than one night? It felt as though he had slept forever. But he recalled the burning in his chest, how it had become more and more unbearable with every step he took, until he had been forced to stop. Then he was unable to continue, as the burning spread into every cell of his body—

Firm arms, guiding him up the stairs—Harry? he wondered.

"I'll tell you all about it later," Harry told him as an answer to the questioning look. "Now I should probably let you rest some more before Madam Pomfrey comes in here and takes my head off for exhausting you." He grinned. "When you wake up again, I promise that another person will be very happy to see you."

Severus let his eyelids drop once again. Sleep seemed like a good idea, he knew. Slowly, he drifted off.

Harry moved swiftly back to the blond Slytherin's bed, grabbing the vial he had kept ready since he gave Draco the sleeping potion on his way. Without spilling a drop, he popped the lid off and put it to the boy's soft pink lips. The potion went down easily, and the effects were immediate. Draco blinked as the world came back into focus.

"Morning," Harry said, unable to keep the large smile off his face. "I have good news for you."

Draco blinked, then understood and gaped at him. "Is he—he’ll be all right?"

Harry nodded and motioned to Severus. Draco scrambled to sit up, and it seemed his body did not quite cooperate. Harry helped him, and soon Draco sat up and saw his sleeping godfather.

"He's back asleep again, but he will be okay, I’m sure of it," Harry said softly. “He was awake just a minute ago.”

Draco's eyes moved hesitantly from Snape's still form to Harry as Harry laid him down again.

"Thank you," Draco whispered.

"Don't thank me, I didn’t do anything. Thank your mother and Hermione – and yourself," Harry said. "They're the ones that found what poison it was, and they're the ones who created the antidote. And you suggested the blood. I’d never have thought of it. I don’t even know why Hermione needed it—or perhaps that was Lucius who asked for it—"

“You never were particularly good at understanding potions,” Draco mumbled. “Father would have used it to create a cancelling potion, and tainted his blood.” At Harry’s questioning look, he explained, “It would have stopped he previous poison and made it untraceable, and the tainted blood would have killed him instead. It doesn’t normally kill, but Severus was in such a state—you’d have known, if you’d listened during our lessons.”

“Thanks for reminding me,” Harry said, chuckling.

Draco groaned suddenly. "Oh Merlin. Granger helped? Does that mean I have to be nice to her now?"

“Might be nice,” Harry said.

“Do you think you can convince Severus of the same thing?” Draco asked, chuckling.

"Severus?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. “You call him that?”

"Do you really think I call my godfather 'Professor' in private?"

“He’s your godfather?” Harry asked. “That explains a lot.”

Draco rolled his eyes at him.

Forty-five minutes later, Harry had had time to inform Madam Pomfrey that the Potions master had woken up and would be all right. She was angry at first with him for not coming to tell her sooner, but relaxed after getting to check the man's vital signs and such. After she had finished, and after she had placed an IV with strengthening potion to his arm, she went to the fireplace to talk to Dumbledore. He was, unsurprisingly, very happy to hear the good news, and promised to come up to the Infirmary as soon as he was done with a few important things.

Throughout it all, the professor in question slept soundly. His breathing became better and steadier; it would soon be back to normal. His face looked at peace, no longer contorted in pain as it had been most of the night.

Harry had helped Draco over to Snape's bedside. The blond was still sore – something which Harry kept apologising for, again and again.

“It’s okay, Potter,” Draco said.

“You took a deadly curse for me,” Harry said. “That’s not ‘okay’.”

“It wasn’t that big a deal,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “Besides, it was my father’s curse, so who better to take it?”

“I’ll kill the bastard,” Harry growled. “There was blood everywhere. I thought you were going to die, and that I’d be to blame for it, and how in Merlin’s name is that okay at all?”

Then Draco took Harry’s breath away.

He pushed himself out of the chair, standing unsteadily and fell into Harry’s arms, his legs not quite carrying him. Harry stared, wide-eyed and open-mouthed, at the boy he held.

“Finally, you’re silent,” Draco murmured.

Then he pressed his lips against Harry’s.

Harry’s mind exploded with feelings and sensations. The soft lips beneath his own, pushing against his, Draco’s body trembling against his own. There was a moment of complete stillness, before Harry felt the dart of a tongue against his lips, and he parted his them before he had time to think about it.

It felt as good as the last time, and ten thousand times better, because now Harry knew that Draco cared, and that he cared about Draco, and Draco had saved his life and—oh Merlin— Draco’s tongue slid over Harry’s lips gently, exploring hesitantly. Harry pulled him tighter, and felt him sigh against his body as Harry began to kiss back in earnest.

When the kiss ended, they were both flushed and breathless.

“So that’s how I get you to shut up,” Draco said, breathing quickly. Harry could see desire in his eyes.

“Ahem.”

Harry and Draco both looked at the source of the voice – and realised that they had an audience. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore stood side by side, Madam Pomfrey pretending to be busy with charts, but Dumbledore’s eyes upon Harry and Draco, his eyes twinkling.

“While a display of love is always a thing to cherish, perhaps now isn’t the time and place?”

Harry blushed hotly. “No, sir.”

But he held onto Draco, tight against his own body. He felt as though he never wanted to let go. Draco, standing slightly shorter than Harry, fit perfectly in his arms.

Dumbledore moved to the end of the bed. Madam Pomfrey scurried around the room, muttering to herself about Draco, who she thought should still be in bed, and about boys in general, and displays of affection in the middle of her Infirmary. Harry pretended not to hear.

Then Madam Pomfrey checked her watch, and hurried to Snape’s bedside.

“I would think he’d wake up with this dose,” she said. “If everything is all right.”

They did not know whether everything was all right, obviously.

But mere seconds after the strengthening potion had been administered, they all heard the small groan escaping from the Potions master's lips. Draco, who held Snape's hand in his in much the same fashion Harry had done to him earlier, squeezed his hand a bit tighter.

Snape opened his eyes again, and blinked a few times in confusion. His eyes went from person to person, and his confusion seemed to grow.

"Good morning, Severus," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling. "Did you sleep well?"

The Potions professor nodded, his brows still knitted with puzzlement.

"I see you didn't expect a wake-up party," Dumbledore continued, showing his amusement at the man's perplexed expression. "We were all quite worried for you, you know. When young Mr. Potter here told Poppy and Mr. Malfoy that you were awake, we were delighted."

"What happen’d?" Snape's throat still sounded dry, and Harry grabbed a glass, placing the straw to Snape’s lips. He was used to this now, he realised, having done it several times in the past few days.

"It's a long story," Harry replied.

Snape did not mind. He listened, rather sleepily, as the people around him told him how Lucius Malfoy had poisoned him by putting poison in his drink during the dinner when the parents had been present. Harry told them about Dobby, who had seen Lucius do it and who had, in a moment of rather rare wisdom, grabbed the goblet, and then Dumbledore told them how Lucius had kidnapped Hermione, used Polyjuice Potion to impersonate her, and had almost managed to give him the final bout of poison that would have killed Snape on the spot, and made it look like natural causes.

Just as they wrapped the story up, the door to the Infirmary opened.

Narcissa Malfoy, tall and beautiful in a long black dress, strode into the room. When she caught sight of Snape, awake and looking at her, her features turned into a soft smile.

“Severus,” she whispered. “You’re awake.”

She ran to his side, manners rather forgotten, and placed a kiss on Snape’s lips. It was no chaste kiss, but it was short, because Snape’s lungs were not what they should be.

“I was so afraid—”

Draco smiled at his mother and godfather, while Harry watched Draco instead. Although he had grown to care for his professor, he did not need to see, or listen to, proclamations of love by or for him.

He intertwined his fingers with Draco’s, squeezing softly. Draco looked up at him, his eyes shining with happiness. Without a word, Harry picked Draco up, and carried him to one of the other rooms in the Hospital Wing. Draco smiled at his mother as they left, and Harry caught sight of Snape, who seemed to be almost smiling.

Love is in the air, Harry thought with a smile, and pulled Draco closer.

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Chapters

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