28. BACK IN YOUR ARMS
"Would you shut up already?" Severus sneered, freeing his arm from Remus' grasp. "I have nothing more to say to you and I would appreciate it if you would leave my chambers. You've overstayed your welcome, Lupin."
"Won't you at least listen to me?" Remus pleaded. "I want to explain it to you."
"What is there to explain?" the Potion's Master retorted. "You've chosen Black over me - once again."
"But he needs me now!"
"No, Remus, he will always need you." Severus stared hard at him. "Because Harry won't recover and you know that just as well. I'm not even angry at you, but I honestly don't know why you're here. Black always comes first, I realised that a long time ago but it took me this long to accept that it will never change. Why are you here, Remus? I don't know what you expect of me. Do you honestly think that I will just go back to being your shoulder to cry on when you are exhausted from consoling Black? I love you, Remus, I do, but I'm hurting as well and I have no strength left to share with you. Please, go."
"Sev, I'm so sorry," Remus whispered. "Please, I know that I've been a lousy boyfriend and I swear I'll change. Give me another chance. I've been insensitive and absolutely ignorant..."
"Inconsiderate, self-centred, burdensome, neglectful, thoughtless, unsympathetic, about as loving as the embrace of a troll?" Severus supplied helpfully and Remus nodded, ashamed.
"Please, Sev, you know that I love you, don't you? I love you more with every day and as right as you are with being angry at me and about everything else you said; it's not right that I've chosen Sirius over you. Not this time at least. I'm afraid to lose you like Sirius lost Harry. What would I do without you? I thought that if I could prove to myself that Sirius could still be happy with Harry, despite everything, that I wouldn't fear losing you so much."
"So you comforted Black because you wanted to prepare for leaving me," Severus snarled, and Remus wildly shook his head.
"Of course not. I don't know how to explain it better, Sev, but if it makes you forgive me, you can think anything of me, even that I've chosen Sirius over you because he's my best friend and because I was too blind to see that you were hurting as well, because that's true as well."
"I lost my best friend, wolf." Severus sighed. "I can hardly blame you for holding onto yours."
"It's no excuse for treating you so miserably," Remus argued, and Severus nodded.
"No, it's not, but I'll consider forgiving you nonetheless."
"Thank you." Remus smiled tentatively at the tall, black-haired man. "Please, come back with me. We have planned this holiday for so long and I don't want it to be ruined even more."
"I don't think that's such a good idea..."
"Please, Sev, I'll be there for you now. We can hide in our room or we can go out or... We'll do whatever you want," Remus tried to convince him.
"And if I want to stay here?"
"Do you?"
"No." the Potion's Master shook his head, and Remus gave a sigh of relief. "But that doesn't mean that I have forgiven you yet."
"Okay, I'll do anything to earn your forgiveness, Sev." He cautiously approached the other man, slinging his arms around under Severus' arms and then resting his hands on the sharp shoulder blades.
"You better do that, wolf."
"How come you called me by my first name earlier and now we are back to that less than flattering nickname?" Remus murmured into the slightly older man's ear, holding him in a tight embrace.
"Now is not the right time to start to get demanding, Lupin," Severus retorted.
"I was just wondering. It was nice hearing you say my name for once, though I never want to hear that hurt in your voice again," the werewolf whispered, gently caressing Severus' high cheek bone and trailing his fingers down to his jaw.
"Don't get sappy, wolf," Severus scoffed, freeing himself from the embrace. "I'm not in the mood to endure it."
"Harry loves you; don't blame him for Sirius' feelings, Sev," Remus stopped him once more.
Severus merely glared at him. "Are we going or what?"
Without waiting for an answer, he stepped over to the fireplace and threw some Floo Powder into the crate, disappearing through the green flames. Remus followed him quickly, not wanting Sirius and Severus to clash while he wasn't there. He had a feeling that their meeting wouldn't go over well and would hardly compel Severus to forgive him sooner.
To his surprise, Severus had just sat down in the armchair and started reading a book while Sirius was staring at the ceiling in brooding silence, obviously trying to think of a way to heal Harry, who was nowhere in sight. Remus made to join Severus, but the tall man sent him a scolding look. He was sure that this look was normally reserved for insolent students and that it was now bestowed on him made it quite clear that Severus wanted his space.
With a sigh, he lowered himself on the sofa next to the Dog Animagus and took up a book of his own. He wasn't sure if he should dare to ask where Harry had disappeared to. He really didn't want to upset Severus once more, and Sirius seemed to be relatively relaxed as well and so he just focused on his book. Most likely, Sirius had merely told Harry to go to sleep and that was what the submissive elf was doing.
"I'm going to start dinner," he finally said more than an hour later, softly putting down his book and getting up. "Any preferences?"
He looked over at Severus, who took his sweet time in acknowledging his glance. "How about lasagne?"
"Okay." Remus smiled at him, the little fact that this was Harry's favourite not Severus' not escaping his attention and he decided to make tiramisu for dessert to make up for it.
"I'm going to take a shower," Severus interrupted his train of thought and followed his example, putting his book down on the desk as he passed it on his way upstairs.
"Harry is on the toilet," Sirius mumbled still engrossed in the pattern of the ceiling and his own mind.
"What do you mean, Sirius? When did Harry go to the toilet?" Remus asked, not sure why he was so alarmed about this; Sirius had lost track of time, that was all.
Sirius shrugged. "After you left."
"That was almost three hours ago!" Severus exclaimed, finally startling Sirius out of his stupor, who snapped his head around to stare at the other black-haired wizard.
"Oh, sweet Merlin!"
Sirius jumped up and rushed past Severus, trying in vain to follow the weak connection to Harry. But there was just nothing, not even the feeble little tingling that had up until then reminded him of Harry. He sniffed and the scent that permeated his nostrils made his heart go cold with fear. Blood. It was a wonder Remus hadn't smelled it much sooner, but behind him he could now hear another sharp intake of breath, and he knew that Remus felt the same dread.
Instinctively he ran to the bathroom, knowing that Harry wouldn't lie to him, and pushed the door open so that it hit Harry's limp form on the floor. The elf didn't even wince or groan at the contact, and Sirius hastily squeezed into the tiled room and dropped to his knees next to Harry, gathering him in his arms.
"Harry, Harry? Please, wake up, please. Please, don't be dead, I can't live without you," he whispered pleadingly. "You can't be dead, loveling, you just can't. I forbid you."
"Remus, get me my potions bag, it should be next to the bed," Severus said after a brief look at them and also moved into the bathroom, grasping Harry's wrist as he crouched down. "He still has a pulse, though it's very low and obscure," he murmured more to himself than to Sirius since the Animagus clearly wasn't in any state to listen to him.
Not for the first time in these last few weeks, he pitied him. Sirius was suffering the most, that much was clear and understandable, and though the other man always denied the possibility of Harry not returning to normal, ignored anything that pointed to the contrary, Severus knew that deep down he was already grieving for his lost love and his lost hope. Severus couldn't find it in him to blame or belittle him for it.
Remus returned with his bag, but it was hard to decide which potion would help the small black-haired boy. There were shallow scratches all along his arms, his throat and his face, but what concerned him the most was the heat that had built up underneath the almost transparent skin in the frail body. Harry was burning up and he still hadn't regained consciousness despite Sirius' pitiful pleas.
He uncorked a vial with a strong Fever Reducer, the vibrant green colour reminding him too much of Harry's eyes, and tried his best to pry Harry's face away from Sirius' chest as gently as possible. Sirius' arms only tightened as if he was afraid he would lose Harry if he let go, as if he could trap Harry's soul by keeping a strong hold of his body. Severus all but groaned in frustration, but thankfully Remus intervened and with soft words, he made Sirius understand that Harry needed to take that potion.
The veela finally looked up, his eyes blood-shot and red-rimmed, and expectantly held out his hand for the potion. He then carefully dribbled it into Harry's slightly open mouth and massaged his throat to compel him to swallow, still muttering his urgent prayers for Harry to make it out alive and his incessant promises of what he would do if he did. None of it showed any effect.
Harry didn't wake and though the scratches healed quickly with one of Severus' salves, his fever only rose, his skin radiating with a dry heat, like a man in the dessert, dying of thirst. Neither Severus' potions nor the wet, cool cloth with which Remus dabbed his forehead nor Sirius' words worked. Life seemed to seep out of Harry to the same extend as the heat increased. Except for his cheeks that had turned a sickly bright red, his skin was drained of colour, making him look like a dead body with too much rouge on his cheeks.
His breathing was shallow and was becoming shallower with every minute. Sirius' pleas became more insistent and louder because he didn't want to hear it when - if Harry stopped breathing completely.
Remus' hands shook as he once again wiped Harry's brow and the sunken cheeks. When had Harry become so thin? He wasn't used to his body's weakness. The last time his hands had trembled so much had been when Dumbledore had come to inform him of Lily's and James' death and Sirius' arrestment and even then he hadn't felt this faint.
Severus scowled at his fragile-looking friend, if he could still call Harry that, and at the same time fought the tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks, just as unchecked as Sirius'. He didn't know how to handle this, for a moment feeling the need to gnaw his fingernails like he had done as a little child. The second it took him to overcome this urge was enough for one single tear to roll down his cheek.
For so long, he had loved Harry, had been in love with Harry and fervently cursed Black's mere existence. Even when he had started to go out with Remus, it had been because of Harry, to prove to him that he was no complete social failure and that it could be enjoyable to go on a date with him.
Gradually, his feelings had changed and he had realised that he would never be enough for Harry, that he could never take control over their relationship as completely as Harry required. But he had still wished that he could have Black's strength and disposition to be dominant, protective and always in charge, simply because he thought that Harry would be in much better hands with him.
When Harry had disappeared without leaving a trace, Severus had been almost as contrite as Black - contrite and victorious because Harry had left Black just as he had left Severus himself. And he still had Remus.
For his relationship with the werewolf, Harry's absence had been a blessing. Subconsciously, he had always known that Remus was much more perfect for him than Harry could ever be, but in direct comparison he had had to fail. Remus didn't have Harry's elfish beauty, his sense of humour or his innocence. No, in a way, Remus was just as tainted and damaged as Severus himself, his sense of humour was a reminder of the many jokes at his expense and with his prematurely grey hair, the scars and the deep lines fatigue and pain had drawn on his face, he was anything but beautiful.
But Severus had learned to appreciate other things about the werewolf. Remus didn't mind spending an entire day reading, didn't mind silence and when Severus wanted to discuss something, even if it was potions, Remus would listen attentively and then offer his own opinion. If Remus knew nothing about a certain subject, Severus could still be sure that the very next day, he would have read up on it to help and understand his partner. Remus was always soft-spoken, calm and hardly lost his temper. No matter how great their differences might be, Remus would always listen politely to his point of view and then work on dismantling Severus' arguments with his own. Remus never insulted or belittled Severus, never returned Severus' sneers or spiteful comments and even managed to slip compliments into their quarrels as if he knew that beneath the cover of acidity and indifference, Severus hid his insecurity and low self-esteem. Severus wouldn't put it past Remus that he really knew. He appreciated Remus' intellect and his calm, but most of all he appreciated Remus strong arms wrapped around him, holding him close as they drifted off to sleep and still slung around him in the morning when he woke up.
Severus would always tell the werewolf that he was too clingy and tried to squeeze Severus in his sleep, but, though he would never admit it to himself or Remus, he liked the feeling of being protected, cherished, of just letting himself fall and knowing that Remus would catch him. He could never have that with Harry.
When Harry had returned from the past, he had feared that his feelings would reawaken and destroy what he had with Remus, but as it turned out his concern had been unfounded. Harry was still beautiful and funny and innocent, but after Severus had seen him so long as Harry Potter, as the bane of his very existence, and had sought to reveal every bad character trait, it was almost impossible to see him as Harry Parker, the boy he had once loved. Besides, Harry was still that, a boy, and Severus was not, mostly grateful to leave that part of his life far behind.
But Harry was still his friend, a person he trusted explicitly and the only one he would allow to call him 'cute' without murdering them on the spot. If he had any hope that his words would count even remotely as much as Sirius', he would have joined it. His eyes widened as he unexpectedly thought to have found the reason for Harry's sudden illness.
"Shut up, Black," he shouted frantically, grabbing his shoulder as if to draw him away from Harry; Sirius glared at him, fury briefly replacing the all-consuming worry in his eyes, and a sharp retort formed on his lips which Severus cut short. "Take back any order you ever gave Harry! When Lucius and Draco fought over Harry and gave him contradicting orders he passed out. You must have done the same; he's in this state because he's disobeying you and feels like he has to punish himself. Trust me, Black, you have nothing to lose, do you?"
"Like a house-elf," Sirius murmured before he once again turned back to Harry and whispered in his ear. "I take back all my orders, Harry. You can forget them. You aren't disobeying me and you don't need to punish yourself. I love you so much, tiny, so much. You don't have to be nice to Snape and you don't have to stay dressed and you don't have to eat if you don't want to. Whatever I told you to do, I take it back, you can do whatever feels right to you. Please."
He trailed off, not sure if he could keep himself from telling Harry to get better if he continued. Instead he started to rock the small elf in his arms and held him as close as possible. He didn't know what he had said to make Harry go into this state, he wasn't aware of any contradicting orders, but his thoughts were so jumbled with hope and grief that he couldn't think straight anyway.
"Should we take him to St. Mungo's?" Remus suggested, looking at his lover, but Severus shook his head.
"I doubt that they can do much more for him there than we can do here, and the potions they give their patients leave a lot to be desired. What Harry needs now is Black and not some apprentice healer with a lot of theories crammed into his peanut brain and the desire to become famous with going new ways."
Sirius didn't even look up at his little tirade and Remus just gave him a tired nod before tentatively putting an arm around the Potion's Master, wanting to lend him a bit of comfort even though he knew that Severus wouldn't allow himself to break down now.
Severus' hand was still clasped around Harry's thin wrist, his thumb pressed against his pulse point. As he slumped a little against the werewolf, closing his eyes, he concentrated completely on the faint throbbing of Harry's blood.
"It's getting stronger," he said more than half an hour later and was startled to hear how hoarse his voice had become.
"What?" Sirius croaked, and Severus sneered at him.
"His pulse, his pulse is getting stronger. Do you want me to explain to you what that means, dunderhead?"
"Really?" Sirius asked hopefully, not reacting to his tone or the insult, and gently drew back from Harry looking into his flushed face. "What about the fever? Is it going down as well?"
"I hope so," Severus returned with a sigh. "He doesn't feel as hot to the touch as earlier, but I didn't take his temperature then. You should try to make him drink something."
"I'll go make some tea," Remus offered, and Sirius smiled gratefully at him before once more burrowing his face in Harry's raven locks.
"Make some elderflower or peppermint tea," Severus told him. "That will help with the fever."
Remus nodded and left the room, leaving the three black-haired wizards alone. Severus heaved a deep sigh, undecided what he should do now. Sirius had once again taken to whispering loving nothings into Harry's ear, patting his hair and rubbing his back. Severus felt kind of superfluous and briefly considered following Remus down to the kitchen, but then decided against it. He was somewhat afraid what Sirius would do if he wasn't there.
"I'll get some blankets. If we are to stay here, we might at least be comfortable," he stated. "Unless, of course, you would do the sensible thing and move Harry to one of the bedrooms."
At first Sirius didn't seem to hear him, but then he looked up at him. "I'm afraid that if I let him go for even just a second that he will disappear and be lost forever."
"I hope you know that this is completely unreasonable." Severus sneered, stunned at the open confession.
"Of course I do, Snape." Sirius sighed. "But I have failed Harry too often and lost so much already... I'm sorry that my... strong dislike for you got in the way of your friendship with Harry, Snape. I didn't mean for this to happen, for any of this."
"Do you regret doing it?"
"Sometimes," Sirius whispered. "But then I think of what would have happened if I hadn't done it. At least, I could protect him from Voldemort."
"He vanished him, all the Death Eaters got captured," Severus added, and Sirius nodded jerkily.
"I guess it was the right thing to do and Harry wanted it; if he had known what would result from it, I think he would still have wanted me to do it only to save everyone else," the grey-eyed man answered. "I try to remember that, but the only one I ever wanted to save was Harry and I failed terribly at that..."
Severus kept silent, and Sirius once again hid his face in Harry's hair. After a while, Severus remembered about the blankets and got up, returning at the same time as Remus, who carried a tray with four cups and a pot of elderflower tea.
The werewolf poured them all a cup, and Sirius carefully instilled Harry with the hot beverage, ignoring his own tea in favour of rocking Harry. Remus draped a heavy blanket over his shoulders and wrapped another one around Harry. He then moved back to embrace the Potion's Master, who had sat down on another blanket and was leaning against the bath tub, looking out of the window and watching the light of the day slowly fade into darkness.
"I'm sorry," a weak whisper broke the silence that had settled over the room. "I'm sorry."
"Harry," Sirius exclaimed, relief obvious in his voice. "Shh, love, shh, it's okay now, everything is going to be okay. I have you."
"I was really bad." Harry sobbed, clinging to the veela. "I'm so sorry, Master. I'm so sorry, please forgive me."
"You weren't bad, Harry, you're much too perfect for me, and I'll never let you go. Can you calm down for me?" Sirius pleaded, littering kisses over Harry's face. "Can you tell me what happened?"
"Was bad, disobeyed you, had really bad thoughts." Harry sniffed, trembling violently.
"It's okay, beautiful, I'm not angry. How are you feeling? Are you in any pain? Can I do anything for you?" Sirius soothed him.
"Bad, hurts, hurts so much, Master."
"Where does it hurt, love?" Sirius asked in alarm. "Please talk to me."
"Here," Harry grasped his hand and pressed it to his chest, "I'm sorry, Master. I didn't mean to be so bad, I wanted to be good and make you happy and I have only caused you pain, because I'm so egoistic."
"Why do you think you were bad, Harry, my sweet?" Sirius kissed his temple soothingly. "You did everything I asked of you, even more. You made me happy."
"But I don't anymore!" Harry shouted through his tears. "You're sad and depressed and disgusted by me and whatever I do, I can't do anything right, because you hate me now."
"I don't hate you, Harry," the veela stressed every word. "Do you remember how I tried to explain to you why I don't want you to pleasure me? I love you, but I fell in love with a different Harry, and it's hard to get used to the new you."
"I tried to be the Harry you want and I tried to go back to the way I used to be, but I don't remember and so you're disappointed and it hurts."
"Don't think that, Harry." Sirius combed his fingers through the black tresses. "I'm sorry that I hurt you. Please, tell me what I did wrong. Which order conflicted with another?"
"I... don't know. You told me to forget. I'm sorry, Master."
"Not your fault, tiny, I just would have liked to know so that I can avoid it in the future," Sirius returned softly. "I was really scared; I thought I had lost you."
"I belong to you, Master," Harry answered, and Sirius' heart clenched in an all too familiar way.
"And I belong to you, love." He sighed. "Let's get up off the floor, yes? You should be resting a bit longer. You had a very high fever."
"I'm sorry," Harry whispered. "It won't happen again."
"You can't help it if you fall ill, gorgeous," Sirius murmured, tenderly capturing his lips. "Can you walk, Harry, or would you like me to carry you?"
Harry made a valiant attempt to stand, but his legs gave out under him, and only Sirius' arms kept him from crashing to the floor. "I don't think I can walk, Master."
"That's alright," Sirius assured him, scooping him up in his arms. "Goodnight, Remus, Snape. Thanks for being there for us. I really appreciate it."
"No problem, Black, call us if you need anything or if Harry gets worse," Severus muttered lowly, turning to go.
"Goodnight, Remus." Harry smiled at the werewolf over Sirius' shoulder, and the Potion's Master mentally prepared to be ignored or insulted as Harry turned to him. "Goodnight, Severus."
Against his will, Severus' face split into a huge smile, and he felt the pricking of tears in his eyes. Maybe all was not lost.