Chapter 44 To Sleep
By dinner that evening Harry had almost resigned himself to the stares he was receiving from all his classmates. After all, this wasn't the first time he'd been subjected to the same. And the truth was, unlike previous times, people were actually hesitant to approach him and directly ask him any questions. But there was one phenomenon that he just did not understand - one that was actually a new experience for him. The giggling!
Throughout the Great Hall there were clusters of girls who were watching him, whispering amongst themselves, and then giggling. It was starting to drive him batty. When a group of Hufflepuffs directly behind him started giggling, he couldn't take it any more. He leaned across the table toward Hermione to get her attention. "What in Merlin's name is the giggling all about?" he whispered. "What's gotten into all of them?"
Ron, Dean, Seamus and Neville leaned in to hear Hermione's answer, especially when they noticed that Hermione actually blushed before responding. "Oh, don't worry about it, Harry," she replied rather nonchalantly. "It's just a. . .change of perspective."
"A change of perspective?" Harry repeated, not understanding at all. He looked at the other guys, but they all just shrugged their shoulders, equally baffled.
Hermione sighed and reached into her bag to pull out her copy of the Daily Prophet. She put it down on the table and pointed to the picture on the front page - it was the same picture that Harry had seen that morning: Harry, Remus, Severus and Alrik walking into the Great Hall.
"What about it?" he demanded, not understanding why the picture could prompt the giggling. It certainly wasn't the most risque picture ever taken of him - Witch Weekly had printed several pictures of him without his shirt on last year. Apparently someone managed to snap a few photos while he was changing before a Quidditch game.
Hermione's cheeks flushed. "It's the leather, Harry."
All five of the guys looked at her as if she'd gone mad. Harry looked down at the picture again, still not understanding.
"Why don't I have any girl-friends?" Hermione moaned to herself. "Look, Harry, most people are used to you looking rather. . .heroic, shall we say. And may I comment that the lack of glasses has gone over really well amongst your adoring public."
"They're giggling because I don't wear glasses any more?" Harry asked in disbelief.
"No," Hermione shook her head. "Actually this is less about you and more about Professor Snape."
"Snape?" Ron and Neville exclaimed in one voice. Seamus began choking on the pumpkin juice he'd just swallowed and Dean pounded helpfully on his back.
"Well," Hermione squirmed a bit in her seat. "Look Harry, when you first married Professor Snape everyone was looking at the two of you and thinking what on earth did you see in him. Now, they all think they've figured it out - they've had a change of perspective."
Still getting nothing but blank looks she pointed again to the picture. "Oh, come on, I mean the Viking is like - you know, wow! And everyone had a crush on Professor Lupin. But Snape always wears those black billowing teaching robes, and now here he is in leather. And boots. And a sword." Her cheeks flushed a deeper red, a rather predatory smile crossing her face. "I mean I'm not saying he's like handsome or anything. . .I'm just saying he's like. . . you know. . . hot."
"You think Snape is hot?" Ron's blue eyes were filled with disbelief, and no little bit of jealousy. He grabbed the paper to take a closer look at it, Seamus and Dean looking over his shoulder. Neville just looked disturbed.
Harry sat there stunned, his mouth open in shock. "Are you saying that everyone is giggling because they all used to think I married him for his money, and now they all think I married him for his body?"
Hermione thought about that for a moment, and then finally nodded. "Yep," she agreed rather smugly. "Married life does seem to agree with him. He's been looking quite nice lately. I think it's his hair. But the leather, Harry. The leather just sort of put him over the top." She fanned herself as if overheated.
Ron looked very disturbed, and quite worried. He studied Hermione intently, and Harry noticed that Hermione was making no attempt to conceal her appreciation of the picture the other boys were still looking at. "I can wear leather too," Ron mumbled under his breath, but Hermione rather pointedly ignored him.
Harry glanced at the picture again, trying to look at it with an objective eye. Severus did look quite a bit different than he normally did - more dangerous, if that was to be believed. And the leather really did show off his body to its advantage. He'd known since the first night they were married that those teaching robes hid a lean, firm muscular body. And the way those leather pants clung to his thighs. . .Harry found himself growing warm with the thought.
A horrible thought suddenly occurred to him. "Oh, god," he groaned. "If they've been giggling at me all day, what do you suppose they were doing in Snape's classes?"
He could only imagine the mood the man would be in - particularly after the disastrous morning and the influence of the feral werewolf. He was just grateful he didn't have Potions that day. But unlike the rest of the student body population, he had to face Severus that night - had to sleep beside him.
He banged his head down on the table. "I hate my life."
After dinner he returned to his rooms, entering them somewhat reluctantly. But he knew the moment he entered that Severus was absent. Relieved that he could once again put off facing the man, he sat down in front of the fireplace to do his homework, but without Ron or Hermione to keep him company, his mind began wandering.
He thought about Remus, still strapped to a bed in the infirmary, and about Sirius who was hopefully safe in the Winter Lands but oblivious to the events that were about to disrupt his life once again. And he thought about Severus and the fight they had that morning. 'I have protected you with my life, risked myself year after year for your sake,' Severus had said to him. Did he truly think Harry was so blind he didn't know all the things he'd done for him? The man had married him, for god's sake, just to keep him safe from the Minister. He wasn't likely to forget that.
'For four months I have provided for you, given you a home, given you anything you wanted.' Severus voice seemed to mock him. He supposed that ultimately he had given Severus nothing in return. The Wizarding World had such defined rules on money and propriety and behavior. For whatever reason, the role Harry seemed destined to play in this marriage denied him the ability to give anything back. He couldn't even pay for his own belongings without violating some old-fashioned sense of honor that Severus possessed.
He'd tried to be good, tried to stay out the man's way as much as possible. A quick glance around the room revealed only a few of his belongings that had snuck their way into Severus' neat living room. He'd thought about putting a couple of pictures on the mantle piece, but had decided that a photo of the Marauders and his mother would probably not be something Severus Snape would appreciate in his home. Beyond that, there was little evidence of his invasion of the dungeon. Sure he kept his broom in the corner of the room by the door most days now, instead tucked neatly away in his trunk. And Hedwig had her own perch near the fire, though she preferred the owlery when she was at Hogwarts. But Harry didn't think he'd imposed too much on the man's life.
And he'd stayed out of his way as much as possible - at least at first. He'd spent his evenings in Gryffindor Tower, kept his friends out of their quarters. But after a while it had seemed as if Severus enjoyed his company - or at least did not hate it so much as he once had. Harry had begun spending more and more time with him in the evenings. But maybe he was wrong. Maybe the man was only tolerating him because of the duty he believed he owed his bondmate? Maybe Harry really was the self-centered, spoiled brat that Severus had always accused him of being?
He pulled his feet up onto the couch and wrapped his arms around his legs, unconsciously curling up in a ball as he felt a wave of misery wash over him. He shouldn't care, he told himself. But Sirius was gone, and Remus was going to be locked away, and he felt suddenly very alone. He shouldn't care if Severus was angry with him, or didn't really care about him. He wouldn't have cared one bit a few months ago before all this had happened. The man had never cared about him - had actively hated him for all the previous years. He'd told him so repeatedly, and Harry had returned the favor. But somehow the very idea of telling Severus now that he hated him was abhorrent to Harry.
Was it only two nights ago he had climbed into bed beside him in the Winter Lands and asked him if he was angry with him - afraid he would be upset that he'd gotten himself into trouble once again? And Severus had been so kind to him that night - even his teasing had been kindly meant, easy his mind instead of upsetting him. He didn't want things to go back to the way they had been before.
The fire flared suddenly startling him out of his thoughts. Dumbledore's head appeared in the flame, and Harry sat up expectantly. "There you are, my boy," he said kindly. "Could you bring your invisibility cloak down to the infirmary? We must take care of certain matters at once."
"I'll be right there," Harry promised, and then rushed to the bedroom to get his invisibility cloak from his trunk.
He glanced at the clock as he made his way out of the room. He'd been sitting on the couch for longer than he'd suspected. It was nearly curfew already. The rest of the students would all be safely in their common rooms for the night.
The halls were silent as he headed toward the infirmary, climbing up out of the dungeons and moving away from Slytherin territory. Professor McGonagall was waiting by the infirmary door for him. She smiled grimly as he approached and gave him a light pat on one shoulder as if urging him to keep a stiff upper lip. The two of them entered the main ward and headed toward the private room. Dumbledore, Madam Pomfrey and Severus were waiting by the closed door, none of them making an effort to enter.
"I explained the situation to Remus earlier," Dumbledore informed Harry. "He agreed to take the potion, but I'm afraid you are going to have to administer it to him."
"Me?" Harry asked in surprise.
"He becomes too agitated if anyone else gets near him," Dumbledore explained. "You said he spoke to you this morning, and you were sitting beside him when we entered the room. He seemed calm enough then with just you beside him. I suspect the wolf inside him sees you as family which is why he does not react as violently when you're around."
"What do I do?" Harry asked nervously, looking to Severus who was holding a small glass vial filled with a dark purple liquid. The man did not look happy about the situation but handed the potion over with a somewhat resigned manner.
"It's simple enough," he informed Harry. "Make certain he drinks all of it. Pour it directly into his mouth - but be careful in case he tries to bite you."
"Bite me?"
"There's no risk of lycanthropic infection," Madam Pomfrey assured him. "He's only contagious when he's in wolf form. But a human bite is a very nasty thing regardless. Keep your fingers well clear of his teeth - I'd hate to have to spend my evening reattaching your thumb."
"We'll be standing right by the door with our wands at the ready," Dumbledore explained. "You'll be in no danger."
But Harry wasn't worried about himself. He honestly didn't think Remus would hurt him - he hated the idea that they were about to put the man into a magical slumber and lock him away in the Chamber of Secrets for who knows how long. But he knew this was the safest thing for the man, and like it not, he had to do it.
He handed his invisibility cloak to McGonagall and then nodded to Dumbledore. The man smiled encouragingly at him and then opened the door to the room. Harry stepped inside.
Remus looked exhausted - that was the first thing Harry noticed as he approached the bed. His eyes were still yellow and cold, but filled now with a frustrated rage and despair that tore at Harry's heart. He could see the redness around the man's wrists where he'd struggled to be free, despite the padding around the iron manacles to protect him. Harry hated the thought that he'd spent the entire day in here fighting to be free - fighting to get back to Sirius. And he hated the thought of telling his godfather about this - this would kill Sirius.
"Harry," Remus whispered, and his voice was hoarse, barely audible. Harry imagined he had screamed himself raw. "Tell him I'm sorry," he begged. "Tell him I'm sorry, Harry."
"It will be okay, Remus," Harry promised him. "It will be okay. You're just going to go to sleep for a little while. And when you wake up we'll have the potion that will cure you. And Sirius will be here with you."
But whatever hope the man might have still had that morning seemed to be gone, for nothing registered in his eyes. "Tell him I'm sorry," he whispered again.
Harry promised him and pulled out the stopper on the Draught of the Living Death. For a moment Remus fought again, struggling violently against the bonds that held him down, and Harry held his breath as he waited for him to stop. Eventually he collapsed with exhaustion, and Harry carefully held the potion out to him. "You have to drink, Remus," he told him. "Please, just drink."
And whether Remus understood or not, or was just desperately thirsty, the man parted his lips and allowed Harry to pour the potion into his mouth. He swallowed convulsively, and a violent shudder moved through his body. He grew still, his body growing calm. He stared tiredly up at Harry, his eyes barely human.
Unable to stop himself, Harry reached out to touch the man's hair, stroking the honey-colored locks back from his tired face. There was so much gray streaked through the hair despite his young age. Remus sighed, and his eyes slowly closed. He let out a long slow breath, and then stopped moving.
It took Harry a moment to realize that the man was no longer breathing, and a wave of terror crashed over him. "Remus!" he cried in horror. The potion was supposed to put him to sleep, not kill him! But he wasn't breathing, wasn't moving at all.
"He's not breathing!" He turned in a panic, looking for help, and felt warm hands on his shoulders bracing him even as Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore moved into the room.
"It's alright, Harry," a quiet voice reassured him. Severus was there, holding him steady, speaking softly into his ear and calming him. "The Draught freezes everything, remember. It stops his heart and his breath. He's only asleep, not dead."
Madam Pomfrey waved her wand over Remus' still body and then nodded to everyone in the room. "He's fine," she announced, and Harry sagged in relief, feeling Severus' hands on his shoulders squeezing him comfortingly.
With a wave of his wand Dumbledore had freed Remus from the bonds that held him, and Madam Pomfrey took a moment to tend to the raw abrasions on his skin where he'd fought against the manacles. And then Dumbledore cast a mobilicorpus spell and floated Remus into the air, moving him toward the door. Harry shuddered, remembering the last time he'd cast that spell - he'd been directing a line of bloody corpses back to Bifrost Hall. The comparison did nothing to comfort him. Remus was not dead, he remind himself.
Once out in the main infirmary ward, Professor McGonagall draped Harry's invisibility cloak over Remus' prone figure, hiding him from anyone who still might be wandering the halls of the castle.
"You ready to take us back down into the Chamber, my boy?" Dumbledore asked Harry.
Harry nodded, though he was feeling far less confident about this than he had earlier. While he knew this was the safest thing for Remus, he no longer liked the idea of the man being left alone down there in the Chamber. He couldn't help but remember what had been written on the walls in blood back in his second year - "her skeleton shall lie in the chamber forever".
They all moved silently through the darkened halls of Hogwarts, the portraits on the walls all suspiciously empty of their occupants. Harry led them to the second floor girls' lavatory and once inside hissed the command to the sink to open the Chamber entrance. Neither McGonagall nor Pomfrey had been with them the last time they had gone down to the chamber and both woman gasped in shock as the sink opened up to reveal the entrance in the ground. Harry thought he saw Pomfrey making a warding sign against evil at the sound of the Parseltongue command.
Rather than risk sliding down the tunnel, Dumbledore and McGonagall levitated them all down into the main cavern. Then under the light of several lumos spells, they headed through the cave and toward the snake cover doors that led into the main chamber. It was only a few days ago that they'd been here with Remus, Sirius, Ron and Hermione - but it seemed a lifetime ago. And this time the trip had a far more somber feeling to it. Harry was only grateful that the enormous corpse of the Basilisk was now gone -courtesy of Severus. The giant snake was stored away for potions in one of Severus' private labs.
They decided to take Remus into the small private library where they'd found all the books. The shelves were now empty - Remus, Severus and Dumbledore had cleaned the place out. But the room was still secure, and the preservation charms were still in effect, keeping the dust and decay away.
Once there, McGonagall transfigured one of Dumbledore's lemon drops into a large bed, and they gently placed Remus on top of it, removing the invisibility cloak. Madam Pomfrey checked him over once again, pronouncing him fine.
"What happens when the moon is full?" Harry asked. "Will he still transform like this?"
"No," Severus informed him. "Nothing disturbs the Living Death until the antidote is administered."
"We can check on him after the full moon to make certain everything is fine," Madam Pomfrey told Harry. "He'll be fine. He isn't the first werewolf to be given the Draught of the Living Death."
"Can we leave a light for him?" Harry asked Dumbledore, hating the thought of sealing him up here in the darkness.
"Of course, Harry," Dumbledore assured him, and waved his wand. A small table with a lantern on it appeared beside the bed - the golden orb inside the lantern emitted a soft warm light. Dumbledore also cast a warming charm over the room, staving off the winter chill Harry could feel seeping into his bones. "He'll be fine, Harry."
Harry nodded and moved forward, taking hold of one of Remus' hands. There was no movement beneath his skin, and the stillness felt unnatural. "We'll be back, Remus," he whispered softly, squeezing his hand gently. But Remus gave no response, oblivious to the world around him.
The return to the castle was done in silence, all of them lost in thought. When Harry finally sealed the door to the chamber he couldn't help but wonder how long it would be before they would be able to return to rescue the werewolf. Hopefully when that day came they would have the cure for Lycanthropy and Sirius would be by his side.
They all parted ways once back in the second floor corridor, and Harry and Severus made their way silently back down into the dungeons. Once in their rooms, Severus built up the fire with a wave of his wand and then retreated momentarily to his lab to grab a potion. Harry sank down into his chair in front of the fire, feeling lost and out of sorts.
"Do you need another one of these?" Severus asked as he returned to the room. He held up a small vial - Harry recognized the pale blue of a Calming Draught in the glass bottle. He shook his head.
"I'm fine," he assured the man, and watched as he downed the potion instead. "You're still angry?" he guessed. Despite this, Severus had been nice to him earlier, calming him when he'd panicked over Remus. It gave him some hope that maybe things would go back to normal.
Severus frowned at the question. "Not angry exactly," he replied. "Just. . .out of sorts, I suppose. Now that Lupin is asleep and away from us, hopefully things will go back to normal." He sank down in the chair across from Harry. Harry, gazing into the dancing flames of the fire, could feel the man studying his face. "Are you alright?"
Despite the warmth of the fire, Harry shivered. But he forced himself to nod in answer.
Severus said nothing for a long while, but his gaze never left Harry's face. "What did you mean this morning?" the man finally asked, his voice low and smooth. "When you said there was nothing between us before?"
Harry ran his hands through his messy hair, and then pulled his feet back up onto the seat of the chair, curling up once more for warmth and comfort. "It was stupid," he replied, not looking at the man.
He felt raw inside, his emotions chaotic. Perhaps he should have taken a Calming Draught after all. Nonetheless, he felt compelled to answer Severus. "I know you've got this idea in your head about how you are supposed to treat me - or not me specifically, but your bondmate, no matter who that might be. It's probably written down somewhere in an etiquette book. You have these ideas about what you can and cannot say to me. Hell, you apologized to me the first night we were married." Harry smiled faintly with the memory. "I guess I thought it mattered that it was me. You were right; I am self-centered. I said what I said - that there was nothing between us - because I thought you would know that I meant before, before all this happened, before we were married."
He looked up then, staring into Severus' dark eyes, and didn't know what to make of the expression on the man's face. He gave nothing away, keeping all his emotions so carefully in check so that Harry didn't know if anything he was saying was making any sense at all. Probably not, but he forged onward anyway. "I was wrong," Harry said. "Because you didn't know - because what mattered to you was one thing, and what mattered to me was something else, something selfish. But I want you to know that I do know what you've done for me - all the times you've risked your life, all the things you given me, all the sacrifices you made. I do know."
Harry felt it was important that Severus understand and he found himself grasping for words to express what he meant. "Sirius asked me to come live with him," he told him, remembering that very first night he had met Sirius back in third year. Severus stirred at the reminder, and Harry forged on quickly before he could say something disparaging about his godfather, because this wasn't about Sirius at all. "He wanted to give me a home, but he was never allowed to, things never worked out. Ironic as it may seem, you are the only person who as ever given me a real home, and that means a lot to me. And I'm sorry if I made you angry."
Severus took a long, deep breath, and then leaned forward in his seat, resting his arms across his thighs as he peered intently at Harry as if trying to figure out what precisely he was saying. He said nothing for a long while, and his expression was still unreadable, but it seemed as if he was searching for something in Harry's eyes. At this point Harry felt so emotionally exhausted, he didn't know what to think any more.
"What was it?" Severus asked quietly. "The selfish thing you said mattered to you?"
Harry sighed heavily, feeling strangely empty inside. "That it mattered that it was me. That you did all this because it was me - not your duty, or because I was the Boy-Who-Lived, or your bondmate, but because I was me, just me, just Harry."
Something passed over Severus' features, some hard emotion that flickered to life in the man's eyes. "Harry," he said softly, and his voice was like warm velvet. "Duty was the last thing on my mind when I went into the Winter Lands after you."
It wasn't exactly a declaration of friendship, but it was something - something more than Harry had before. Something to hold onto. A spark of warmth, bright and hopeful, filled the emptiness inside Harry, and he gave the man a tentative smile, uncertain how to respond. When Severus returned his smile, Harry grinned, and leaned back in his chair, his gaze shifting back to the fire. He felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders - even if only temporary. Okay, maybe he wasn't alone after all. Maybe he never had been.