you raise me up || harry potter

chapter 40

"Being attacked by the Dark Lord is like being hit by a truck?"

"How d'you know what a truck is?" Harry asked, opening his eyes earnestly. "You're not a Muggle."

"I don't think this conversation is appropriate bedside conversation, Potter."

"Snape is a snake," Harry said in a sing-song voice. "Snape is a snake."

"Excuse me?" Snape choked.

"S'what all the Gryffindors say when 'Fessor Snape isn't listening," Harry mumbled. 

"Is that so?"

"Mm. But I don't think he's... a snake. Snakes are nice, did you know that?"

"I did not," Snape said in a strained voice.

"Snape is nice too," Harry confided. "He feeds me and everything. And he doesn't hit me with an iron—"

"An iron?"

"Or... a frying pan?" Harry frowned. "Got burned anyway—"

"I need to have a long talk with you when the sedative wears off, clearly."

"Did you say relative?" Harry asked, eyelids drooping. "I don't like mine. I'd rather live with Professor Snake—I mean Snape. Do you like yours?"

"Did they give you a sedative or a Babbling Potion? Go back to sleep."

"Mm." Harry already felt sleepy again. "When we goin' home?"

There was a long silence. And just when the long fingers of sleep were tugging him under the waves of blackness, Snape finally spoke.

"Soon," he said. "Soon."

♢

When Harry woke up for the second time, his head was much clearer, and he no longer felt like he was on the brink of a coma. He wiggled his toes a bit, and then his hands, and was relieved to see that he was not paralyzed. He looked around. Where was Snape? He could have sworn Snape was sitting in that chair next to his bed, although where that memory was from, Harry couldn't be sure. He could vaguely remember waking up and seeing him there, but he had probably gone back to sleep right after.

"Potter?" Snape stepped into the room. "You're awake. Do you need something?"

Harry realized his mouth was extremely dry. "Water would be great," he rasped.

Snape conjured a cup and water poured from his wand. "Drink," he said, handing it to Harry. He gulped it down and felt marginally better.

"You'll be well enough to return... to return to Spinner's End in a few hours," Snape said, with a strange little pause in the middle of his sentence. "Sit tight until then. You have a visitor, by the way."

That visitor turned out to be McGonagall, which both surprised and pleased Harry. 

"Mr. Potter!" she said, hurrying toward his bed. 

As she got closer, Harry realized she didn't really look like herself. The wrinkles were more deep-set, her hair usually in a tight bun was mussed, and her eyes were heavy with fatigue. She looked tired and worn out. 

"Professor," Harry said, sitting up a little. "How are you?"

She ignored his question. "I should have remembered," she said. "I was the one who should have been making appointments with St. Mungo's... it's been a hectic summer. I apologize, Mr. Potter, I should have been more attentive to your needs."

"Oh," Harry said, taken aback and a little self-conscious, "No, no problem. Why was it a hectic summer?"

"Oh," McGonagall murmured, "Some security check-ups and things like that. Nothing you should be concerned about."

Security checks at supposedly the safest place in Wizarding Britain? How on earth could there be a need for more security?

"How are you feeling?" she asked, changing the subject. "Ready to start school? We can make adjustments, you know, if you need more time to adapt—"

"No," Harry interrupted hurriedly, cheeks flaming with embarrassment. "I don't need that, I'm perfectly fine with starting school—"

McGonagall studied him. "Are you sure?" she asked. "If it were up to me I'd have scheduled this for back in July. It's a mental and social change... how does your family feel about it, by the way? Have you had a chance to talk to them about it?"

Harry snorted. "If they could, they'd try to kick me out the second they realized I look different. Hopefully that doesn't happen."

The usually stern-faced woman looked like she was hiding her sadness behind her eyes, lips curved into a mournful smile. "Well, if you're sure," she said.

Harry nodded. Hogwarts was his second home, after all. Nothing would stop him from going. The blocked barrier to the train hadn't stopped him last year, and this wouldn't either.

"Has Professor Snape been good to you?" McGonagall said a bit sympathetically. Evidently, Snape's foul treatment of Harry in school was no secret to the faculty.

"He..." Harry hesitated. Did "keep your cards close" apply to the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts? "He's been alright," he said carefully. 

McGonagall seemed to interpret Harry's cautious tone as hesitancy to tell the truth. "Professor Snape is a private man," McGonagall said quietly. "He must have put aside a great deal of his priorities to take you in." 

She looked like she wanted to say more, but she couldn't really say something like "He'll come around," now could she? It didn't seem to anyone like Snape would ever come around to Harry Potter.

Except he had, and it had opened a rather large can of flobberworms. 

Harry nodded in response. "I know, Professor" he said, and that was the end of that conversation. 

"Well," McGonagall said, rising to her feet, "I am very glad to see that you are well. I look forward to seeing you in my class in September."

Harry nodded again. "Thanks, er, for taking the time to visit me," he said. 

McGonagall gave him a distracted but kind smile and hurried away.

♢

Harry arrived back at Spinner's End with Snape, walked up the uneven path to the door with the long uncut grass tickling his legs. He walked into the house, breathed in the now-familiar vanilla smell, stood in the yellowing light of the dim afternoon in an old musty house. 

And one word came to mind. It was just a whiff of a word, really, like the smell of old books and a memory you can't quite put your finger on. It flitted into Harry's mind and flew away just as quickly.

Home.

Where in the world had that come from? Home? Here? Here, where the walls were peeling and the floors were cracked and the shelves were dusty? Here, where Professor Snape lived?

Absolute nonsense, Harry thought, and entered the kitchen to do some washing up and maybe cut some vegetables.

Absolute nonsense, Harry thought as they ate dinner together. 

Absolute nonsense, Harry thought, as he drew the warm covers smelling like fresh detergent close to him and fell asleep.

a/n: hi i'm writing a drarry fic on the side called "a grave for flowers" in which draco is a florist after war. it's published and 3 chapters are up if anyone wants to read it 👉👈