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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
- 3
- 4
- 5
4. Where Chaos Ensues, And a Door Opens

“Chaos often breeds life, when order breeds habit”

~Henry Brooks Adams ~

Harry

My first thought is always for the patient, but I am halted momentarily by the knowledge of who she is. I force myself to remain professional as I enter the treatment room, and although I am shocked by the lack of colour in his face, seeing Ron sitting next to the child brings my mind back to the present.

‘Ron.’ I nod.

‘God mate, Hermione is going to bloody well kill me,’ he says quickly.

‘Let’s see how Harriet is, shall we?’

I’m not going to assuage his guilt. It would be bad enough if his own child had been injured, but it’s far worse that this is someone else’s. Inwardly, I am amused that it’s Hermione he’s scared of and not Snape. He should have realised that at school.

The child is beautiful, and I try not to note the alabaster skin and the dark, glittering eyes of her father as I approach.

‘Hello, Harriet. I’m Harry, and I’m a medi-witch. Are you hurting somewhere?’ I try to smile as if everything is normal as I catch her gaze, and she forces a weak smile back.

‘I know you. You’re Uncle Harry,’ she whispers.

I feel a knot in my stomach. This child knows who I am, and part of me wants to know if her father has ever spoken about me. I feel dazed, but then I realise that Hermione is her mother and it would be natural that I would come up in conversation.

‘Yes, well… I know your Mum,’ I say. I can’t look into her eyes now, so I take out my wand and start the diagnostic. Hedley was right about the broken bones, but I’m more concerned about the large, purple bruising on her forehead that disappears into her hairline. As I run my wand close to the area, the results confirm my suspicions, and I feel sick. I turn immediately to Hedley and murmur instructions quickly, and then turn back to the child, who has now closed her eyes and looks ready for sleep.

‘Harriet,’ I say loudly. ‘You need to stay awake for me, okay? I’m going to get your mum, and then give you some special medicine to keep you awake. It’s really important.’

Her eyes spring open, and she bites her lip in an endearingly familiar way.

‘Harry, you’re scaring her,’ Ron says in a low whisper.

‘If it keeps her awake then so be it,’ I mutter.

‘What’s wrong with her, then?’

‘I can’t tell you, Ron. I’m sorry. I really need to speak to Harriet’s parents,’ I respond. ‘It’s procedure, you understand. But I could use your help,’ I say.

I can imagine how he’s feeling, despite the fact that I do blame him even though I’m unaware of the circumstances. The burden of Lupin’s death still weighs heavily on my shoulders, no matter how many people tell me it wasn’t my fault.

‘Anything,’ he says.

‘Keep talking to her, keep her awake. It’s vital.’

***

Severus

‘What in the bloody blazes are you doing in my Floo?’ I glare at him and I don’t know if I’m angrier that he woke me from my alcohol-induced sleep or because of shock that he is here in my reality, as well as my dreams.

‘I’m sorry, Snape, but can I come through? It’s urgent.’

I can hear the authority in his voice and I don’t even consider refusing him. The part of me that yearns for him is singing, but I ignore it in favour of petulance and feel even angrier for it.

‘Do I have a choice?’

As he steps through onto the hearth rug, I notice he has changed. He has grown taller, and his frame has filled out with adult muscle, his face peppered with what looks like the beginnings of stubble. He looks around the room briefly and then our eyes meet. They are still green, and I’m instantly reminded of pools of hidden desire, of passion and want. I find that I cannot look away.

‘Where’s Hermione?’ he says quickly, no preamble, no pleasantries. Immediately I bristle.

‘I do not hold her prisoner, Potter. She has a life beyond these walls.’ I can hear the acid in my voice. I’m not prepared for the withering look I get in return.

‘You’ll have to come, then. Your daughter is at St. Mungo’s, she’s had an accident.’

‘No!’ I leap from the chair and feel faint. I can feel myself trembling, and as my legs try to balance themselves, I almost fall. My arm is gripped by warm, firm fingers, and I steady myself.

‘You’re okay,’ he says gently.

‘Don’t tell me what I am or bloody well aren’t, Potter. Take me to Happy. Now.’

I wrench my arm from his grasp, and try to ignore the flinch in his eyes and the residue of warmth from his sure, firm fingers.

My stomach churns as I follow him from the Floo, and I don’t stop to look about as we walk from the office into the long, stark corridor. We are shoulder to shoulder, and part of me is aware that we are almost the same height now. We walk purposely, like comrades on a serious mission. Perhaps we are.

He stops suddenly outside a closed door. He turns and looks apprehensive for the first time. Oh, God almighty. This is fucking serious.

‘Spit it out, Potter.’ I am aware of the tremor in my voice but right now all I need to know is… Is…

Please God let her be alive…

‘She has a fractured skull and some broken bones. There is a large contusion on her forehead and until I run further tests I can’t tell how bad it is.’

I feel numb. I appreciate his forthright approach, but now I have the information, I have nowhere to hide. I take in a long, slow breath.

‘I want to see her.’

‘Of course. I don’t think she needs to know how badly hurt she is, not yet, anyway.’ His eyes are suddenly compassion and caring and I cannot bare it. I nod and look away, and I can feel the tears pricking my eyes.

‘We really should let Hermione know.’ I hear his voice through the fog that clouds my thinking, and I know he’s right.

‘She’s at the Three Broomsticks, but the Floo will be locked. You will have to send your Patronus.’ I don’t think I could summon my own right now if I tried.

‘No problem. I’ll take you in now. Ron is with her. You have to keep her awake if you can.’

He pats my shoulder and I know he’s trying to be reassuring, but I stiffen automatically, and he shrugs before opening the door.

As if suspended in time, I will never forget the sight that greets me as I go into the room. There are pictures on the walls, bright, colourful images. A knight is slaying a purple dragon, and on another wall, two children are playing with butterflies that fly and flutter out of their reach. I note all of this in the brief moment it takes my eyes to focus on Happy.

She is lying on a hospital trolley with her right arm in a sling, and I can immediately see the large purple lump on her normally perfect forehead. She looks so small, so frail, and my heart aches as I paste a false smile on my face. I ignore Weasley, who scuttles towards the door like a cockroach, as well he might. I’ll deal with him later.

‘Hello, sweetheart,’ I say softly. I want to touch her but feel afraid to do so. Her eyes are slowly drooping, but she wakens at my voice.

‘Hello, Daddy. Did you really help Uncle Harry kill a bad wizard?’ she whispers.

I feel rooted to the spot, and have no idea what to say to that. Fucking Weasley and his big mouth.

The door flies open suddenly and Hermione rushes towards us, hair flying and her face white. Her lower lip trembles, and I instinctively pull her into a hug.

‘Don’t let her see you upset,’ I murmur into her ear. I feel her shake, but she nods in response and takes a shuddering breath to calm herself. She hugs me back gratefully and over her shoulder, I see Ron glance sideways at Harry, who is staring at us like he has seen a ghost.

Hermione is right. It really is all such a bloody mess.
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Making Happy