Blaise and Pansy entered Harry's hospital room the next day. They appeared tense and tired, and Harry shot Draco a questioning look.
Draco leaned in close to his ear and whispered,
"They had a fight about Pansy reporting. Blaise is worried she'll end up getting hurt."
Harry nodded, and Draco quickly pulled away.
Pansy shot a tense smile and Harry, and placed a vase of flowers next to his bed.
"Hey savior." She greeted quietly, and Harry mentally cringed at the nickname.
"Pansy. Zabini." He replied tiredly.
"Did the healer say when you'll be able to go home?" Pansy asked, sitting down on the edge of his bed.
"Yeah, they said if everything looks okay, I should be able to go home in a few hours."
Pansy nodded, not quite meeting his eyes.
"Pans, were you hurt?" Draco asked, leaning towards her with a concerned expression.
Pansy rolled her eyes as she leaned back against the bed railing.
"Honestly, Draco. I'm fine. I don't know why everyone's been asking me that lately."
Draco frowned.
"You do have a rather large gash on the side of your face..."
She waved her hand dismissively.
"That wasn't from the attack. I just was klutzy as always, and tripped and scraped my face. Nothing to worry about."
Draco looked unconvinced, but said nothing else about the matter. Blaise stood in the corner of the room, his body straight and rigid, saying nothing. Harry found the whole situation somewhat awkward, and tried not to fidget uncomfortably.
Luckily, they were saved by Ron and Hermione entering the room. Harry let out a sigh of relief.
"Ron!" He exclaimed, trying to sit up.
Draco roughly pushed him back, shooting him a glare as he did so.
"What did I say about sitting up?" He muttered.
Harry rolled his eyes and leaned back. Ron and Hermione smiled brightly at him.
"How ya feeling, Mate?" Ron questioned.
Harry winced.
"Sore." He responded truthfully.
Ron's smile fell, and Harry regretted saying anything.
"Look, Harry, I'm really sorry. It's my fault you got hurt, and-"
"That's enough, Ron." Harry said firmly, cutting him off. "It's not your fault."
Ron nodded, though he still appeared guilty.
"Sorry I haven't been in to see you yet, Harry." Hermione said, looking somewhat guilty herself. "I was just really worried about Ron and-"
"It's fine, Hermione. Really."
Hermione nodded, and sat down in a chair next to Draco.
"Did you ever see a healer, Draco?" She questioned.
Draco tensed, then nodded.
"It was just a dislocated shoulder. I'm alright now."
Hermione sniffed, and there was a moment of silence.
"It's just so terrible!" She finally burst out, causing several people to jump. "I mean, Harry already won. We shouldn't be dealing with Death Eaters again!"
"It'll work out eventually, 'Mionie." Ron soothed. "The Ministry is sending its best Auror's on the case."
Hermione let out a long sigh.
"I know. I'm just worried about you and everyone else. In fact, I'm going to take a few days off of work so I can keep an eye on you when you get home, Harry."
Harry immediately began to panic, thinking about Snape.
"That's really not necessary." He interjected quickly.
"Of course it is!" She exclaimed.
"I... um... could I talk to you for a second?" Harry asked, nervously glancing around the room. "Alone?"
There were several protests, but Hermione cut them off by placing silencing charms around herself and Harry. The voices were instantly cut off.
"Go on then." She said expectantly.
"Er, right." Harry began awkwardly. "It's just... you know that guy we've been taking about?"
"The one you're in a secret relationship with?" She asked, raising her eyebrows.
"No!" Harry sputtered. "It's just, he's uh, moving. Yeah. And he needed a place to stay for a few weeks, so I offered him a room at Grimauld Place. I'm sure he'll be more than happy to keep an eye on me."
Hermione frowned.
"I see." She responded simply.
"Hermione, please. I can't tell you who he is right now. But I know he'll keep me safe. I.... I trust him."
"Fine, Harry. I won't tell anyone. For the moment."
Harry let out a sigh of relief.
"Thanks, Hermione."
She lowered the silencing spell, and they were instantly greeted by angry protests.
"Harry!" Ron exclaimed, looking hurt. "I can't believe you did that!"
"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Ron!" Hermione snapped. "It was just a medical question he was embarrassed about!"
The protests died immediately, and Ron glanced down at the ground.
"Oh." Was all he said.
Hermione turned to face Harry again.
"Molly wants you at the Burrow on March 1st. We're celebrating Ron's birthday."
Ron quickly cut in.
"Only if you feel up to it, Mate. You got hit with a pretty rough spell...."
"No. It's fine." Harry reassured him. "I'll be there."
At that moment, a healer burst in, and demanded that everyone needed to leave so Harry could get his rest. There were a chorus of grumbles, but no one protested.
Harry quickly said his goodbyes, and not even ten minutes later, he was fast asleep.
*****
Severus stood next to the large pile of Potions he had just finished brewing. He had spent all night brewing them, but it was worth it.
He gathered the Potions into his arms and climbed the rickety stairs to the kitchen.
He carefully placed them on the counter, then frowned. They were running dangerously low on food, and who knew when Harry would be able to go grocery shopping next.
He thought for a second, then snapped,
"Kreacher!"
The pathetic excuse for a house elf appeared within a few seconds, scowling at Snape.
"What can I's be doing for you, master?"
"Do not call me master. We have talked about this before."
Kreacher glared up at him.
"Yous is a better master than Harry Potter, sir." He muttered grumpily.
The corners of Snape's mouth twitched.
"Perhaps. Now, speaking of Harry, he was was injured. Quite severely, it seems. I need you to go grocery shopping."
Kreacher bowed.
"Of course, master. Is that being all?"
Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was no use arguing with the house elf about his title.
"Make sure you get Harry's favorite foods." He commanded.
Kreacher bowed again, then disappeared with a large crack.
Snape took a deep breath and sunk into the nearest kitchen chair. He could only hope that Harry would come home soon.
*****
Harry arrived home 4 hours later. He stumbled through the floo, immediately collapsing when he reached the living room. He still couldn't believe that he had convinced the healers to let him floo home unattended.
He was just beginning to heave himself off the floor, when a dark figure swept in and pulled him off the ground. He began to panic, but then the scent of mint and Potions hit him.
"Severus." He breathed out, nearly going limp in his arms. "I tried to send you a message, I really did, but-"
"Silence." Snape commanded, setting him down on the couch. "Drink these."
Harry stared up in confusion at the multiple Potions bottles.
"What?" He asked. "Why?"
"Because," Snape began, looking highly frustrated. "I do not trust St. Mungo's to supply you with adequate Potions or care."
"I...." He began, somewhat touched.
There were no words he could say to express his gratitude. He drank the Potions quickly, ignoring their bitter taste.
"Thank you." He murmured, and Snape nodded curtly.
"I'm going to get you something to eat, and then you're going to tell me what happened." Snape said icily, making it clear that there was no room for arguing.
He came back a few minutes later, a plate filled with chicken, potatoes, and Treacle Tart. Harry stared at the plate of food, confused.
"I never got to go grocery shopping, though." He stated, looking up at Snape questioningly.
"I got Kreacher to go shopping for you." Snape replied. "Now eat."
Harry took a bite of food, and glanced up at Snape. The older man was watching him intently, and it was almost unnerving.
"Severus?" He asked quietly.
"Hm?" Snape replied, glancing away.
"How long did it take you to brew all those Potions?"
There was a beat of silence.
"Several hours." He admitted.
Harry's heart began to beat faster as Snape's eyes met his. Several hours? Snape had spent several hours brewing Potions? For him?
Harry could only stare at Snape. The food in front of him remained untouched. The strange feeling in his stomach made it impossible for him to eat, and it felt achingly familiar. He was trying to place what it was, when all of the sudden, it hit him.
The room around him lurched suddenly, and he struggled to take several deep breaths. He heard Snape say something in a concerned tone, but he couldn't make out the words.
He was too busy trying to deal with his latest revelation.
He was in love with Severus Snape.
*****
"Potter?" Snape asked, eyeing Harry carefully.
Oh Merlin, I didn't accidentally poison him, did I? Snape wondered briefly.
He quickly dismissed the thought. No, he was confident in his brewing abilities. Something else must be bothering the boy.
"Tell me what happened." Snape demanded, and Harry flinched.
His eyes were large and wild, as If he was fighting some inner turmoil.
"I..." Harry began. "I... I was attacked. There were too many of them, and I got hit..."
He stuttered awkwardly, and his hands shook slightly. Snape frowned. The attack has obviously effected the boy more than he thought.
"What did you get hit with?" Snape asked, urging Harry to continue.
Harry looked down, and squeezed his eyes shut.
"Sectumsempra." He whispered.
Snape froze.
"What?" He croaked.
Harry opened his eyes, and absentmindedly began to run a hand over his chest.
"It's... I'm okay. Draco healed it."
Snape didn't miss the way Harry refused to meet his eyes.
He blames me. Snape thought miserably. It's my fault. I hurt him...
He needed to survey the damage.
Snape stood up, and slowly walked towards Harry. He took the plate of food from Harry's hands, then placed it on the coffee table. He placed his pale palms against Harry's chest, and gently pushed until Harry was in a laying position on the couch.
Harry's eyes went wide and his breath caught as Snape began to slowly unbutton his shirt.
"W-What are you doing?" He gasped out.
"Checking your injuries." Snape murmured, gently sliding the shirt off of his shoulders.
Harry's eyes fluttered closed as Snape's cool fingers ran along his chest. His breaths came out in pants, and he could practically feel Snape's disgust as he eyed the scars.
"You need more healing Potions." Snape whispered, his breath hot against Harry's cheek. "I will brew them for you by tomorrow."
His long fingers continued to run up and down Harry's chest, and it was suddenly to much.
Harry's eyes snapped open, and he roughly shoved Snape's hand away.
"Don't touch me!" He exclaimed, eyes wild.
Snape jerked back, surprised, and slightly stung.
He hates me.... Snape thought again. He's disgusted by me.... by what I've done... by what I've invented. And I can hardly blame him, can I?
The thought hurt more than he expected it to.
"Harry..." He murmured gently, his black eyes filled with pain. "I..."
"No." Harry stared firmly. "I can't do this right now. I can't talk to you."
He stood up, snatched his shirt off of the couch, and retreated upstairs.
The last thing Snape saw was the glint of a silver bracelet on his wrist.
He hadn't taken it off.
*****
Harry ran to his bedroom as quickly as his injuries would allow him.
He threw his shirt across the room, breathing heavily. He collapsed into his bed, and tried not to think about the tingly feeling Snape's fingers had left behind.
He was such an idiot. How could this have happened?
He wasn't really in love with Snape, right?
But it seemed impossible to deny, the more he thought about it. The casting of his patronus, the weird feeling he got whenever he was around Snape, The way he wanted nothing more than for Snape to continue touching him, to continue stroking his hair the way he had done in the cupboard.
Merlin, the way his eyes looked when they were enlarged by his glasses. The way he wrinkled his nose slightly whenever he brewed a potion. The way he showed that he cared through odd little things, like cooking omelettes at 10 pm. The way he smelled like.... home.
Harry groaned.
Maybe it was just a crush. Yes, that must be it. He'd get over it soon. Just like he got over Ginny.
He was absolutely, positively, not in love with Severus Snape.