27

Chapter Twenty Seven: Darlene Desiree.

Harry stayed awake a little longer after Snape had fallen asleep. It wasn't very late yet, so he decided to send Fawkes up to the common room, who fetched Spells and some of his school work and trunk (the bird could easily handle it). If he wanted to continue looking after Snape, then he'd have to show McGonagall that he could juggle between school and the Potions master.

Harry was as quiet as possible and did his work on the bed that he'd transfigured while Spells and Fawkes sat on the now shared perch. They seemed to get along, which pleased him, and he took the liberty at taking in Snape's quarters as he never really did get a good look at everything before.

The rooms were comfortable sizes, not too small and not too big. Beside the bedroom there was the ensuite, and outside the study/lounge and his office. Harry had discovered another door that was on the other side of his office, but presumed it was just a cupboard or a lab for brewing. It smelled strong of potions, so he figured that's what it was. He could ask later.

Of course, everything was draped in silver and green, the colours of the Slytherin house, and Harry had seen that one of the frames was off the wall. He had picked it up and turned it over. It was a snake. He wondered why it had been taken down. Was Nagini still on Snape's mind after all this time? Then again, he was still uneasy about them from having been attacked by the Basilisk in his second year.

He'd returned the moving painting before heading back to bed, and eventually he fell asleep, putting his glasses on top of the books on the floor. He only woke up when he heard an odd noise.

Stirring, his eyes opened in the dimly lit room. The fire was still glowing, but hardly. Everything was a blur with his glasses off, but he instantly knew the noise had come from the original bed in the room.

Pushing himself up, he padded his way so the side of Severus' bed, seeing sweat beaded on the older wizard's forehead. He was heating up horribly as he squirmed beneath the sheets.

"Severus?" he whispered, knowing all too well what was happening. Harry was no stranger to nightmares and having Voldemort penetrate his mind through sleep. Snape was having some kind of bad dream.

This wasn't good for his heart. Harry knew when he woke up; he was panting, heart palpitating within his sweat-covered chest. He pulled back the sheet to take a look at the man's shirt. No blood, which meant it wasn't opening the wound. That was reassuring, but not enough.

Another groan came from Snape, and he quickly put a candle alight. "Severus, wake up. It's just a nightmare!" he said, his voice going louder. He placed his hand to the man's heart, feeling it thumping beneath it, and then Snape shot up, panting hard, a sweat-covered hand clutching over his own.

For a moment, Severus was blind, not knowing where he was, his heart thumping in his head. He looked down through his dampened hair, seeing the hand on his chest—which explained why he wasn't in severe pain right now.

"Potter…" he breathed, relaxing as he realised it was just a nightmare. He lowered his hand, feeling his sweaty head. Merlin, he really needed a bath.

And there, looking at him, was the young man's green eyes, no glasses covering them this time. With the gentle light in the room, they really glowed, making him able to relax, even though he was humiliated to have had a nightmare in front of Harry.

"It was just a bad dream," Harry said, feeling Snape's heartbeat lower slowly as he came to realise what had happened. How often did Snape have nightmares? He didn't exactly have the happiest of lives, but he was a Potions master. He figured he'd have stuff for everything down here.

Laying back down, Snape was glad Harry's hand was still on his chest, otherwise he knew it would be painful. He closed his eyes as he caught his breath.

"What… is the time?"

Taking the pocket watch that was on the side-table, Harry opened it with his spare hand and brought it close to his face so he could read. "It's quarter-past-four." At that moment, the door opened to Severus' office and Madam Pomfrey came rushing in.

"Severus, are you alright? I was notified that your heart-rate had spiked." She instantly walked over and nudged Harry out of the way.

"Nn…" Snape winced as Harry's hand was removed from his chest, the reality of pain slapping him across the torso. "I… was fine," he muttered, "until you took Potter's hand away!"

Poppy grabbed Harry's arm and put his hand back onto Severus' chest. "You're lucky Potter is here for this. What happened?"

"Just a bad dream," Harry said, getting the feeling that Snape didn't want to talk about it. "A nightmare or something."

"Potter, go get a goblet of water, he's got the temperature of a dragon," she stated, feeling Snape's forehead.

"Poppy, I'm quite alright," Severus said, the witch giving him a quick scan with her wand. He wasn't a bloody toddler. He didn't need anything. He winced once more as Harry's hand disappeared.

When Harry returned with a goblet and his glasses on, Poppy ordered him to drink, and he obeyed, being quite thirsty. He drank slowly before giving the goblet back.

"I'm sorry, but you can't have any more potions. No Dreamless Sleep. Potter, the moment he shows signs of an uneasy sleep, you put your hand on his chest. It seems to at least calm the pain, and in turn it might help you relax more." She looked at Snape with her last words.

She was worried, and really preferred that Severus be in the hospital wing. But she knew it would stress him out and he'd be horribly fussy and bored whilst there. This was the best she could do without putting anymore strain on his heart or sending him to St. Mungo's Hospital. Hogwarts had better security for him here as well. He didn't need journalists hovering over him for new stories about his health and how Potter was taking this.

Harry nodded, putting the goblet back to the side-table. Severus just closed his eyes weakly, as if he didn't want to be here anymore. He felt guilty. He didn't want Snape to be ashamed of this, but he didn't say anything while Madam Pomfrey was here.

After making sure Severus was alright, Madam Pomfrey put her wand back away. "I will check on you in the morning, Severus. Rest easy," she said, patting him on the shoulder before leaving hesitantly.

Harry made sure the doors were closed before walking back into the bedroom. Fawkes stirred a little, and Spells was out for the night, hunting.

"Are you sure you're alright now?" he asked, moving up to the side of the bed. "I could get you some more water." He wanted to ask what the dream was about, but he had a feeling Snape wouldn't tell him even if he asked politely. The man wasn't exactly open. He wished he would be, though—especially with him.

Looking at the young man, Severus gently shook his head. "I am fine, Harry," he said, his voice weak. "I just need rest."

"You won't have another nightmare?" the Gryffindor worried.

As if he knew what he'd dream about or not. Severus arched a brow. "Potter, I don't know if you know this… but you cannot… choose what you dream," he said sarcastically. Weak, but sarcastically.

Harry couldn't help but grin as a little bit of the Snape he knew popped out in his weakened state. "I like when you're sarcastic."

Severus just turned away, his mouth twitching lightly. He felt a hand go back to his chest, soothing it, and it brought his eyes back to the Gryffindor.

"I know you don't like being like this. I know you don't want to be stuck in your bed all day long. And I know you want to have a bath or whatever, but you can't just walk away from the reality of the situation. I'm just wanting to help, Professor," said Harry.

Looking down at the hand, Snape moved his own and overlapped Harry's. Potter was right. He didn't like this one bit, but there was something inside him that was happy that Harry was here. It was strange, and felt almost foreign to him. He hadn't been happy in a long time. Especially not this kind, either.

Sure, he was stuck in a bed, and it hurt like a bitch to actually move, but Harry was here with him. If it were anyone to look after him, he'd rather Harry to anyone else. If this had been a few months ago, he would have detested the idea, but Harry had done nothing but care for him and show compassion towards him. Although awkward, and closed-in, Severus was happy about it. He was so much like his mother.

"Go to sleep. You have class in a few hours," he said, letting the hand go once more. He wanted Harry to keep it there, but there was no risking them sleeping in the same bed while he was like this. One wrong movement from Potter and he could be in a world full of pain.

Nodding, Harry leaned down, and he boldly kissed Snape on the lips, and he surprisingly felt the professor give in. When he pulled back, Snape's eyes seemed surprised, and a little embarrassed by the look on his face.

"You shouldn't do that…" Snape muttered as he felt his heart-rate increase from the small show of affection towards him. "You will have Poppy running back down here."

Harry just smiled apologetically. "Good night, Severus," he murmured, letting his hand slip away from the Potion master's chest. He blew out the candle, took off his glasses and settled back into bed for the night. At least the kiss could give Snape something positive to think about while he slept.

*****

In the morning, Harry was woken up by Fawkes giving a shrilling wake-up call across the room. His eyes fluttered open, blurry and confused to where he was. Oh, right, he was in Professor Snape's quarters. He was going to have to get used to that.

Fawkes landed on his bed and waddles himself over his body, nudging him gently on the cheek. "Alright, I'm getting up," he mumbled, it daylight now. Hardly, bloody hell, it was still dark in here. How the hell did Snape wake up in the morning? He supposed Fawkes did that for him.

Grabbing his glasses, he put them on and let the room come clearly into view, pushing his hair from his eyes. The first thing he did was check on Snape, pushing himself up to see the man on his side, hair covering his face.

Harry smiled. He never thought he'd ever say Professor Snape looked cute. But with his messy hair, his eyes closed and hands tucked under his chin, he looked utterly adorable.

"Professor? Are you awake?" he asked softly, just in case he was really asleep. Snape just made a groan in answer. He stood up quickly and moved to the bedside, Fawkes going back to his perch. Spells had made it back and was nestled into her feathers.

"Fawkes woke you up? You don't need anything, do you? You know you can wake me up if you do." He'd rather Snape did so he didn't suffer… The man was stubborn, he knew, but still. This was his health here.

"Not even a troll could sleep through that noise," Snape muttered, his eyes gently opening to see Harry standing there, hair a mess. "A true Gryffindor. You have a mane." Harry's laugh was soothing to hear.

"Potter, if you need anything from my room, you are welcome to use the facilities," he said, moving his hands underneath his pillow. He felt awkward having Harry here in the morning hours, but it wasn't the first time, and at least they were fully clothed. He just wasn't used to sharing his quarters. Having Harry here wasn't anything negative, it just felt different.

Having brought most of his belongings down here in his trunk last night, Harry didn't really need to return to Gryffindor Tower. The only thing he'd really need would be the bathroom. He didn't mind using Snape's bathroom. Plus, he could really use a shower. Then again, so could Snape.

"I'll keep that in mind. How are you feeling this morning?" he asked, sitting on the side of the bed. He noticed Snape look at him funny from the action, but they were in a relationship, and he was a little tired of having to tip toe around. He wanted the both of them to be comfortable, and the sooner he made things more intimate with one another, the sooner they could be more relaxed. Snape was going to be difficult, though. He knew that.

Moving onto his back, Severus gently pushed himself up against the pillows. "Better than last night," he admitted. He knew he still wouldn't be able to be active, and he'd be bed-ridden most of the next few days, but at least his heart wasn't suffering too much this morning. Sleep did him well.

He really needed a bath, though. Not to mention he needed to take a leak. He hadn't been to the bathroom all night, and it was beginning to hurt his bladder. He couldn't just take a potion either, because Poppy had refused it. 'The Muggle way.' He could have rolled his eyes.

"You look a bit better," Harry mentioned. The darkness around Snape's eyes was definitely lighter. "But you could really use a bath," he laughed.

Snape was well aware that his hair was oily and that he was unclean. He was usually very hygienic—despite what people said about his hair (that was only because of the cauldron fumes every day)—but considering he couldn't really move around, he didn't wish to need the aid of Potter.

"I will freshen up when you're in class," he noted, looking away. No way was he letting Potter take care of him like a child.

"Professor, you know you can't manage it by yourself," said the Gryffindor. "I know you might feel uncomfortable, even a little weird and shy, but you took an arrow to the heart. If anything, you should be happy you're making it through this. A bath isn't going to kill you if an arrow didn't."

"I don't need your help, Potter," Snape said harshly, looking back at him. He knew deep down that he would need the assistance if he wanted to get clean, but… something in him just couldn't accept that. He hated seeming weak. He hated having others help him.

Although a little hurt by the outburst, Harry knew Snape was just being insecure about the whole thing. He'd probably be the same way if he were in the same situation. He didn't want to press the man's buttons, though, in case it caused stress.

"You've got to take a bath sometimes, Sev," he said, his voice trying to be as calm as possible. "Would you rather I help you or Madam Pomfrey? At least my magic can help ease the pain, and… we've already done 'it' before, so I don't see why a bath would be too horrible."

Because even when they had had sex, they hardly saw one another's bodies! Severus felt uncomfortable over the whole thing, but he would definitely rather Potter over Poppy. That would be even more awkward for him. At least when he was unconscious from Nagini, she could have easily used magic, and he wasn't awake for it.

Snape went quiet as he was clearly thinking the whole thing over. "You can wear your undies, I don't mind…" Harry suggested, "If it makes you more comfortable, I mean."

Halving his eyes, Severus looked back at Harry. He knew he had to do this either way, and he couldn't risk hurting himself even more. That would be even more humiliating if Poppy found him on the ground nude.

He mentally sighed. He didn't want to do this! Why couldn't that arrow have bloody killed him instead? Okay, the situation wasn't that bad, and he and Potter were in a relationship, as awkward as things were between them still.

"Fine," he mumbled. "Go and get the bath started. And don't make it too hot." He hated when they were too hot. His skin was sensitive and it burned easily.

Harry nodded, his teeth showing as he smiled happily. He headed into the bathroom and turned the bath on. It was no way as nice as the Prefects bath, and not nearly as big, but it would certainly fit the both of them in there. Harry didn't expect to go in, though, he was just going to help Snape have one. He'd have a bath later on.

When he made sure the temperate was nice and warm, he gave a quick spell for some bubblebath and the tub soon was filling with bubbles. He figured it might make Snape more comfortable if he were covered.

Walking back out of the bathroom, Snape was now sitting up. Fawkes had flown to him and he was idly stroking the phoenix' back as if it were a cat in his lap.

"The bath should be ready soon. I'll get you some clothes. Which drawer are they in?" he asked.

As his attention was brought back to Potter, Severus let Fawkes go. "They're all in their respected order. Just grab something light, or Poppy may murder me," he drawled.

Harry grinned. "Why don't you get in the bath first? I'll get your clothes when you're in." He headed over to the Potions master and Snape removed the sheets. "Do you need the chair?"

The wheelchair from last night was still beside the bed. "No, I wish to try myself," Severus stated. He moved so his sock-covered feet touched the ground. Harry made the fire start as he wasn't allowed to use any of his magic yet for the sake of his heart.

It was awkward, and Snape never wanted to speak of it again, but Harry supported him into the bathroom before leaving and closing the door so he could have some privacy. Fawkes (who had helped), decided to stay.

Now that he was alone, Severus gently and slowly (due to pain) undid the buttons on his shirt and slipped it off, letting it fall to the floor. He then painfully removed his pants and socks. Like Harry had suggested, he kept his trunks on, and he gently sat on the side of the tub before slipping himself in. It was awkward, as he tried not to use his arms as much as possible as it hurt his chest.

The water was perfect—surprisingly. Something Harry had gotten right. And it was gentle and soothing against his skin. The bandage was already waterproof, so he was able to go low in the water, the bubbles covering him.

When there was a knock on the door, he said, "Come in," and Harry stepped into the bathroom with a set of fresh clothes. He grinned as he lifted the Muggle shirt that had been in his dresser for if he'd have to return to the Muggle world for any occasion while school term was on.

"You can't be serious, Potter…" he said, arching a brow.

"You know, I'm surprised you even have something like this." It was just a black T-shirt with a red undershirt attached on the inside with long sleeves. "It's very 'Muggle' of you, and red for Gryffindor," he said, smirking. Snape just looked away.

Seeing Severus' body, Harry realised the marks and scars on the man's pale skin. He walked over to the bath, Fawkes still sitting on the rim. "Not all of these were from Nagini, where they?" he asked.

Now Severus felt even more awkward. He tried to relax, and he worried that his heart might strain because he was anxious over all of this. He sank further into the bath, most of the bubbles covering him. He didn't say anything, though.

Clearly Snape didn't want to talk about it, and the only reason Harry didn't press on about it was because he didn't want him getting agitated. Instead, he walked to the back of the bath and grabbed the container of shampoo, walking up behind Snape.

"Potter, what are you doing?" the Slytherin asked, eyes following the young wizard like a hawk.

"I'm going to wash your hair."

"No."

"Yes," Harry stated firmly. "I know after Quidditch practice that if I lifted my arms, it hurt my chest, which means it'll do the same to you. I'm no doctor, but I know what muscles are attached to what, and if you lift your arms, it's going to hurt."

Snape grumbled to himself, hugging his arms around himself as he sat awkwardly. He felt so fucking stupid! He was a damn grown wizard! He hated the fact that he couldn't use magic for anything. How the hell did Muggles do it!?

"Have you got any kind of bucket in here? A container? Something to put water in so I can rinse your hair?"

Snape literally wanted to kill himself right now. Nagini. The Dark Lord. Some kid trying to kill him. Merlin, he'd take it any day over today. He just wanted to crawl away and never see Potter again. He felt like a kid again. Not that his mother ever really looked after him. Not with his abusive father on her back all the time.

"Just summon one from the other room," he muttered. When Harry did, the nearest jug came flying into the room, and the Harry dunked it into the water, making him move away uncomfortably.

Harry didn't want to stay quiet, because he knew the silence would just be even more awkward for them. No, he'd rather keep Snape's mind off anything negative and awkward. He'd need to think of something that was interesting to Snape.

"What do you think of the new professor?" he asked curiously. Snape didn't seem to like her much, but that was just Snape. Turned out he liked someone even though you thought he hated them. He was hard to read like that. "Close your eyes."

As the water came rushing down his face, Severus groaned, even though it felt nice through his unwashed hair. His scalp was itching. "Why is that important?" he asked, wiping the water from his mouth.

Harry shrugged, gently pouring another jug of water down Snape's hair before grabbing the shampoo and putting some into the middle of his head. He ran his fingers through gently, massaging the scalp. "Well, she just seems a bit… I dunno-,"

"Appealing to be teaching such a greasy subject?" Snape asked, turning to look at Harry accusingly.

"Professor, I don't want to hide things from you, so you can read my mind all you like, but can you at least ask before you do it?" said Harry, rolling his eyes a little.

"I merely guessed. I'm not permitted to use magic, or do you have that shorter memory, Potter? The only reason I had yesterday was from pure accident."

Harry felt a little embarrassed at that. He shouldn't assume something so invasive of the man. He shook it off, not wanting that tension between them.

"Besides," he smiled, still massaging the shampoo into Snape's hair, "within a few hours, her hair will be just as greasy, and I'm sure she'll look as ugly as you."

Snape stiffened, grimacing.

Harry laughed. "I'm kidding, Sev, I think you're adorable." A wide smile spread from ear to ear on Harry's face as he continued rubbing the shampoo in.

Adorable!? Snape felt utterly humiliated! His shoulders stiffened more. "Potter, you're going to make Madam Pomfrey rush in to find me strangling you in a moment. Painful or not."

Harry put his hands onto the man's shoulders. Snape wasn't bony, but he wasn't meaty either. He was rather muscle-less, just a basic body, but Harry liked it. The only real tone on his body was just because he was a man, not because he worked out. Severus Snape was just the average wizard, just very pale in colour from lack of sunlight.

"I like you, Severus. I like you a lot, actually…" he said, leaning down a little. He let his hands slip down to the top of Snape's chest where there was little hair above the bandage.

Looking down, Snape felt blood rush to his cheeks. He didn't know what to say. It wasn't like he could escape the touch, he couldn't strain himself, but it wasn't like he wanted to either. He enjoyed the gentle Seeker hands against him.

Harry could feel their magic touching (although Snape's was very weak), dancing across the surface of his fingertips as he touched Snape's skin. It felt perfect, soft and silky. He wanted Snape to look at him. He wanted to join the man in the tub, even if his own cheeks were starting to burn at the thought.

Fawkes gave a soft look to the both of them, and Harry realised why Fawkes wasn't crying. Because of this. Because they were together. That sneaky bastard! He laughed to himself. He thanked Fawkes, though, because for the first time—in a long time—they were alone together, and they could be intimate. It didn't mean sex, or anything like that, just together. In the same room. No one else there to spy on them.

Severus' body instantly became relaxed by the touch of magic, despite him shying away from the affection. His nerves and anxiety somehow disappeared as he leant back against the tub. He could smell the shampoo that was still sitting in his hair. Harry was so soft against him, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't want more. But he couldn't. Not now anyway. Something that traumatic on his heart would certainly send Poppy in, and could cause further damage.

When Harry moved around the front of him, he was faced with those perfect green eyes of his. He didn't know how to be affectionate, but for the sake of Harry, he almost wished he could be. It was just something so foreign to him. He could think it, yes, but when it came to real life? He just couldn't.

"I know you're reserved, and I think that's something that makes me like you even more considering all the Gryffindor's I'm used to… but do you like me just as much as I like you?" Harry looked into those dark eyes, the Potions master making no effort to look away.

He didn't have an answer for that. Feelings were never exactly the same. They differed from person to person. Alright, that was just his logic talking, of course he liked Potter. He wouldn't be allowing this if he didn't like him. If this was a few months back, he'd much rather Poppy being in here washing his hair for him.

"I believe I would have drowned you by now if I didn't have some kind of sentiment towards you," he stated bluntly, seeing those eyes glimmer at that. The corner of his lip curled into a very small smirk, but soon disappeared when Harry's lips were on his.

Instantly, Severus found himself surprised and unable to keep back the blood from his pale cheeks. He instantly looked back down to the bubbles that were still filling the bathtub when Harry pulled back. "You are going to be the death of me, Potter," he said, gently kneading his chest from the rush of blood. Luckily, it wasn't enough to bring Poppy in here.

Harry grinned gently before returning to Snape's hair, rinsing the shampoo and conditioner out. He gave Severus a few minutes to enjoy the bath by himself before he made him get out. He had to head to breakfast soon, and then classes, and he didn't want Snape to be getting in and out on his own. He believed he could manage a trip to the toilet if he needed it with the help of Fawkes or Madam Pomfrey when she came in.

Having gotten dressed in the Muggle clothes Harry had gotten for him (much to his despair), Severus never thought he would be this happy to return to his bed. But getting up and around just to take a bath had actually exhausted him quite so.

Harry had dried his hair for him the traditional way (with a towel), and even ended up brushing it while it was wet so it wouldn't tangle and knot—as embarrassing as that was. Before Harry went to breakfast, he'd made sure everything was alright, given him a few books and supplies from his office before Poppy had come in and taken over.

He'd managed to take a bathroom break just before Poppy Pomfrey had ordered him to eat. He didn't eat much, he was simply too tired to, and soon he fell asleep, clean and tidy.

*****

Harry had returned to the dungeons throughout breaks as much as he could. Ron and Hermione had asked what had been going on, and he explained everything to them. Although he didn't tell them that he had helped Snape bathe. He didn't think Severus would like that, and it wasn't something his friends needed to know. Or the nightmare.

He had found himself worrying quite often about the man. He wanted to ask him where he'd gotten so many scars from. He wanted to ask a lot of things. Part of him was very thankful for Fawkes for not crying and healing Snape, but part of him felt guilty about it, too. It sounded horrible to be thankful that Snape was suffering. That wasn't the case at all. He hated that! But it gave them time together. And that he really enjoyed.

Classes had been uncharacteristically quiet. No one had made a sound about his and Snape's relationship. It was odd, but it was good. It was certainly different from what he was used to, though. He figured most of the students didn't want to upset him—which was nice to know.

Potions class had been strange for him—and everyone else. The new professor was just so different to Severus. Harry missed the cold, calculation and sceptical eyes of Professor Snape as he watched them brew. He missed how quiet the class was as Snape was so in control of his students. The new teacher gave everyone a chance to talk and team up with whoever they pleased. It was… different. Everyone else seemed to not mind, though.

Hermione had been snappy the whole lesson. Something about Professor Desiree got to her, and it got to Harry, too. All the boys in the class basically swooned over her, and she did little to prevent it from happening. She made so many of them blush it was beyond ridiculous. Then again, Hermione couldn't talk when Lockhart had all the girls the same way in their second year. Hermione had confirmed she was part Veela.

It bothered Harry a lot, though, because he was worried about Snape. He had no intentions of liking this teacher in a sexual way. She was kind, but he saw through that right away. He shouldn't have anything to worry about, but not one single guy in the class felt the same as he did, and it bothered him to think that maybe Severus wouldn't either. If she was part Veela, she could have Snape on his knees before her. They could control men so easily. The only reason he wasn't swooning over her like every other boy was because it made him angry enough not to.

Having made his way back down to the dungeons, he knocked on the door before entering. The office was silent, so he stepped through the study and into the bedroom—the door was open. To his surprise, and annoyance, Professor Desiree was sitting on the side of the bed with a very expressionless Severus.

Harry made his way in, wanting to throw her from the room, but he moodily dropped his bag, looking at Snape darkly. How long had she been here? Class had only just finished a while ago. Surely she didn't come racing down here to check on Snape so quickly. He remembered to put up a wall on his thoughts this time, just in case. Not that Snape could use Legilimens at the moment, he couldn't use any magic right now. But he didn't know about her.

"Hello, young Mister Potter, I wasn't expecting to see you down here," said the witch, her pearly eyes gleaming. She still sat on the bed.

"Why are you here?" Harry asked, unable to keep his tongue in. It came out more hostile than he would have liked, but he didn't feel like being nice.

Desiree stood from the bed, not seeing Severus' look of relief from behind her. "Professor Snape and I have class schedules to sort out. I could ask you the same thing," she said, eyes narrowing, though her voice ever-so-sweet.

"I'm looking after Professor Snape," Harry stated flatly, as if it were obvious. The lounge was still a bed in the room as he hadn't transfigured it back from this morning. And neither had Madam Pomfrey by the looks of it. "My magic can help while nothing else can."

"Oh yes, I've heard all about your supposed magical bond," said the witch. "Shame… can't be that strong if you're sleeping in separate beds." She put a pouty face on, brushing he hand through Harry's hair.

Immediately, Harry moved away, mentally hissing.

"I will swing by when Mister Potter has class, Severus. That way we can speak… professionally," Desiree smiled before walking out of the quarters.

Hearing the door close, Harry didn't even look at Snape. Instead, he just put his bag onto the bed and started taking things out and sorting them around for what classes he had tomorrow.

Severus had been quiet the whole time, but merely because he wanted to know what was wrong with Potter. Apparently the young wizard didn't like the substitute one little bit. He was clearly upset with her for some reason. Maybe she'd said something in class. Then again, he was just trying to push away the obvious. He knew why Harry was upset. It didn't take a genius to know he was worried about her being a Veela.

But why? How could anyone be jealous when it came to him? Severus didn't see himself highly at all, and he certainly had no interest in Darlene Desiree. He felt rather disgusted by her behaviour as a professor (part Veela or not), and he was quite worried about the students taking Potions. Alas, there wasn't much he could do. He was stuck here in the bed, unable to use any of his magic. It wasn't like she was full Veela anyway, he doubted anyone would allow her into Hogwarts if that was the case. She was simply part.

Watching Harry, the Gryffindor was clearly wearing his heart on his sleeve in a pissed off manor, tossing his books around. He had no reason to be pissy, though. It wasn't like he did anything to make Potter feel as if he liked her. He was horribly uncomfortable with her being in his quarters. Idiot Gryffindor was just being a teenager. He said nothing.

Taking one of the pieces of parchment on the bed, he began reading through it. It was just class lesson plans, what the students needed to learn and getting them prepared for their exams—which was still a while away, but he still liked being prepared.

His thoughts were disturbed when something wet fell on the parchment, making him look up. "Potter… you're making it snow…" he said in surprise, light flurries of snow dropping out of nowhere in the room. The chill in the air soon became quite apparent to Harry's own feelings.

Harry looked up, not even realising that his magic was doing that. Damn accidental magic. He just turned back away and said nothing, trying to control himself. Fawkes made a noise from his perch, but he ignored that, too.

Frowning, Severus put the parchment down. "Potter-,"

"You like her, don't you?"

Harry's eyes were angry, and Severus just gave a confused look. What the hell had given him that idea? "I'm going to assume you don't mean what I think you do with that phrase considering I've hardly even spoken to her."

"You know exactly what I mean," Harry said, feeling much more jealous than he probably should have. Damn. This magic was strong, though, and he couldn't fight it. The thought of Severus with anyone else just tore his chest apart.

"You might not know her, but in time, you will. You two are going to be alone together tomorrow!" And that was what really ate at him, not knowing what could happen! She was part Veela! Just being around her made men weak. "And she's into Potions! She likes all that kind of stuff when I know you want me to, but I don't. I'm not like Lily who enjoyed it. I just take it because I have to. Because I need it!"

He felt his hands starting to shake now, and he turned away once more, trying to gather himself. He shouldn't be so angry about this, but he was. He knew it was bad for all of this to come out, he knew it was probably making Snape just as angry and bothered for him thinking this. He didn't need that on his heart.

Severus just shook his head, knowing that it was their magic doing this to them. He couldn't afford to get angry over it because he knew it would put stress on his heart.

"Harry," he said, getting the Gryffindor's attention. He wished he could get up and out of the bed, but he was still weak, and instead, he just extended his arm, covered in the red sleeve from the undershirt he wore.

Feeling stupid for his feelings, Harry sighed, and he walked over to the bed, taking Snape's hand. It was warm, probably from being in bed all day. His magic was still weak, but he could feel it. It was getting the slightest bit stronger, which was good to know.

"I will be seeing more of Professor Desiree, yes, but I cannot help that. She is taking over my classes whilst I recover my wounds. You are going to have to understand that."

Harry huffed, but he sat on the side of the bed before gently leaning into Severus. He put his hand to his chest so he wouldn't hurt him, and he felt Snape's hand go through his hair. It felt like it had been forever since the both of them had had time like this together.

The last time he and Snape had been able to lay like this was when Snape was in the hospital wing for his arm. And that was because he didn't want Snape suffering all night and unable to sleep. Even though he was injured this time as well (the poor sod), this was different. He could feel it. Snape was finally showing affection in a physical way, to try and comfort him and his thoughts.

"Yeah, I know… but I don't like it," he said softly, leaning gently into Severus' shoulder. He could hear the man's heartbeat gently against his ear. It was soft in rhythm, which was nice to know. He didn't want to make it hurt and pound too hard.

Feeling the young boy's hair slip through his fingers, Severus nodded. "Potter, I'm not about to go and screw up something else I have going for me in my life. I've learnt that the hard way. Besides… as pretty as she may be, I don't find her nearly as attractive as I've come to find you."

Feeling his cheeks burn, Harry's green eyes went wide, looking up. "Who are you and what have you done with Professor Snape?"

Snape just smirked. "You'll find that I can be quite charismatic when I wish to be, Mister Potter."

Harry grinned. "You don't have to tell me that."

This time, it was Snape to feel the uneasiness of a light blush. He felt Harry's hand go against his cheek, brushing his hair back behind his ear, and then those soft Gryffindor lips were on his own, kissing him gently.

Tasting the Gryffindor against him was magical in itself. Harry was so sweet and soft. He felt Harry's hands go through his clean hair that was soft from the shampoo this morning and unsoiled from being kept inside and around no cauldrons.

Harry's hand left Snape's chest, and he felt the man wince from the pressure, their lips separating. He opened his eyes to see a rather disappointed Snape.

"I cannot go further, Potter," Snape informed, his eyes opening as he let his hands slip down to Harry's back. "It would be unwise to let this progress." Harry looked wonderful with his lips pink and swollen from the kiss they'd shared.

Moving his hand back to Severus' chest, Harry nodded. "I'm sorry," he said softly, feeling a bit embarrassed that he'd let things get so personal between them. He could feel his own excitement prodding against his thigh as he'd straddled Snape.

"You're upset about us not sharing a bed," Snape said, eyes flicking to the transfigured bed for a moment before returning to Harry's—which looked down. He picked his chin up so they met once more. "Harry, I am unwell, and it would not be healthy for my heart to sleep with you."

"But I can help, and we're going out… Why can't we share a bed with each other? It's only sleep. We've done worse," the younger wizard protested.

Snape just looked at the other. Such a Gryffindor. "Potter, that happened by pure urge and weakness on both of our behalves."

Harry frowned. "You regret it?"

"No." Snape was firm with his words, gently touching his palm to Harry's cheek. "I like you, Harry. More than I ever thought I would considering our pasts, but the comfort of another is foreign to me. You must understand that I am finding it difficult to cope with what relationships consist of. I enjoy my alone time. I enjoy you being against me, but I also find it different to what I have become used to in my years of solitude."

"Which is why we should do it more often," said Harry. He didn't want to push Snape, of course, but he wanted for them to be able to be physical with one another on a healthy level.

Severus had to hand it to the Gryffindor: he was persistent in what he wanted. "In time, Potter. When my heart is not so weak."

"The rumours have stopped," Harry said, looking somewhat hopeful. "Do you think that even though you're better… I could come and visit more often? Even stay here for the night?"

Potter's enthusiasm was certainly something. "That would be entirely up to the Headmistress," he stated. He had no power over that. Yes, they were allowed to have a relationship, but that didn't mean anything else could happen. Minerva had already been upset knowing they'd slept together.

Harry made a note to ask her next time they ran into each other. "I can understand that. But… would you want me to?"

Severus let his hand fall back down, taking Harry's hip as he was still sitting on him. It was a good thing his magic was weak right now and he had a restrictor over him, otherwise he had a feeling things wouldn't be going this smoothly.

"I would not object to it, no," he said finally. Harry's green eyes gleamed at his words, and he let a small smirk crease the corner of his mouth. "But tonight, you must sleep in your own bed."

"You don't mean Gryffindor Tower, do you?"

"Unless that is what you wish? But I am more than comfortable with you taking the bed you prepared last night," Snape stated, nudging his head to the used-to-be-couch. "I am getting tired, though. Your Gryffindor behaviour is taking quite its toll on me, Potter."

Harry just grinned. "I have tea in the Great Hall soon, so I won't bother you too long. I promise," he whispered, kissing Severus once more before letting himself up.