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Making Happy	By : neelix Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Snape Views: 5458 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in this story that are from the Harry Potter books. I do not make any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Epilogue
- 1
- 2
- 3
2. Where Normal Life Resumes

‘You can close your eyes to things you don't want to see, but you can't close your heart to the things you don't want to feel.’

~ Anonymous~

Severus

I enter the kitchen, and my eyes are immediately drawn to a note addressed to me in Hermione’s handwriting. It’s resting beside the kettle, as she knows I would head there first. She normally knocks my door to let me know she’s leaving, which means she’s still pissed off with me. She’ll get over it.

I lift the note and shove it in my pocket for later. I’ve overslept. It’s a bloody miracle I slept at all. I still have time for a quick cup of tea before waking Happy. Honestly, I sometimes wonder how long she would sleep if we didn’t wake her.

Why do we think tea is the solution to everything? I doubt it will help me this morning, but I mustn’t brood. In fact, I won’t think about it at all.

Damn. Now I’m thinking about it. At some point in the night I almost came around to Hermione’s way of thinking, but I refuse to risk everything on a glimmer of a chance. A fantasist I am not. It would turn his life upside down, just as he has his foot on the ladder. I feel stupidly proud, as if I had some hand in his success. I just pushed him to better himself. ‘Pushed him away,’ Hermione would say. She never could see that it was the right thing to do.

I drink my tea and ignore the gnawing ache in the pit of my stomach. I don’t miss him. Things are much better this way.

I hear the tell-tale noise of feet padding along the floor above my head and can’t help but smile. My earlier question has been answered for me, at any rate. I turn and watch as Happy walks up to me, her hair a tousled mess, her face full of sleep as she yawns softly and rubs at her eyes. Her pyjamas are a little too long, and she’s dragging Fluffy, her stuffed rabbit, along by his ear. My heart feels full again.

‘Good morning.’ I hug her to me with one arm as she snuggles against my side, and I bend to kiss her messy head.

‘Hello, Daddy.’ Her voice is quiet, for now. No one told me that small children could be quite so endearing when they’re half asleep. ‘Can I have toast today?’ She lifts her head and grins, and I know this girl has her daddy wrapped around her little finger. Hermione would insist on porridge or fruit.

‘Two slices. Don’t tell your mother.’

I feel smug as her giggles fill the room. Getting one over on Hermione is one of life’s little pleasures, and I ignore the guilt of using Happy to do so.

Once breakfast is over and Happy is showered and dressed, we head to what was once the spare room but is now the study. Home schooling was one of Hermione’s better ideas. It alleviates the complications involved in Muggle schooling, and also means that Happy will be equal, if not a step ahead of her peers when the time comes for her to start at Hogwarts.

Before I have the chance to ignore the thought, it occurs to me that I am destined to be alone one way or another, and that even Happy is not mine to keep.

****

Harry

Changing the bed sheets by wand is nowhere near as satisfying as doing it by hand. Aunt Petunia always insisted on ‘hospital corners,’ and in a strange way I miss that. Repetitive, mind-numbing tasks that can be done with a flick or a swish are all well and good when I want to think, but there’s nothing like physical exertion when I don’t.

When the beds are made, I sneak into the cleaning cupboard, grab a mop and bucket and find a deserted hallway. Energetically I wring out the mop, and I start at one corner and push and pull the mop from side to side, putting effort into each stroke. My shoulders stretch and flex, and my back aches satisfyingly. I could keep going until I collapse from exhaustion, but I’m interrupted by footsteps. I flick my wand, and the mop moves without further physical input from me. I feel cheated.

‘Harry?’ Fred Hopkins, Deputy Ward Supervisor and all round arse-licker stands and stares at me, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘Elizabeth wishes to see you.’

I avoid his gaze and walk past without speaking. Once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin; he thought he could fuck the Gryffindor out of me for a time. Being dumped by one didn’t really help his ego, and it certainly hasn’t made for a pleasant working relationship, either. We hate each other now, but it wasn’t always the case.

Elizabeth Fairburn is a different story. As Ward Supervisor, she has ultimate responsibility for the patients and staff on the Janus Thickey Ward and I don’t think I have ever met such a kind and patient person. She’s also my mentor. Without her, I would still be lost.

The half-smile she gives me as I walk into her office doesn’t fill me with joy, and I know something is up.

‘Have a seat,’ she says, her soft voice caressing me with warmth even though she is now looking down at the parchment in her hand.

‘What’s wrong?’ I demand to know. After being kept in the dark by Dumbledore, and others I choose not to think about, I can’t be bothered to play the waiting game.

‘Nothing is wrong, Harry.’ Finally, the full smile and the bright blue eyes are aimed in my direction, and I relax slowly. Not bad news. Thank goodness.

‘Go on, then.’ I still don’t want to wait.

‘You’ve been promoted,’ she says, a touch of regret in her eyes. My stomach clenches.

‘I didn’t ask for promotion. I’m happy here,’ I plead my case weakly. I already know what’s happened; the look in Lizzie’s eyes tells me.

‘No you’re not. You’re going through the motions. And you’re hiding away.’ All efficiency, I can sense her guilt from this side of the large desk.

‘Why, Lizzie? I thought we were friends?’ I can milk that guilt for a while, I think.

‘You know we are, so don’t start that. You’ve been here for almost five years and I won’t allow you to waste your talents a moment longer. You’ll end up as institutionalised as the patients. As your friend, I can’t stand by and watch that happen.’ Thin lips press together into a determined line, and I know there is no budging her.

She’s right of course, particularly about the hiding bit. But I feel safe here, where the patients don’t know me and I’m just Harry, junior mediwitch. There was a time I had ambitions for myself, before everything. I know I have been pathetically feeling sorry for myself here ever since. I think I’ve quite enjoyed the self-flagellation.

‘Where?’ I ask eventually, and I ignore Elizabeth’s grin at my childlike pout.

‘Children’s Ward, Mediwitch Potter. Congratulations.’ She doesn’t smile this time but raises a challenging eyebrow in an uncomfortably familiar way.

I guess my hiding days are over.
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Making Happy