CHAPTER 15

Hermione told me once that I've got this thing about saving people. So do you, Severus. I guess you're more...well...low-key about it...

Once Harry had fully recovered from his stomach flu – under the stern supervision of his husband – Severus was ready to continue with the Telepathy lessons – with utter disregard to his own health. The pain in his forearm was terrible and had spread to his left shoulder and side. Performing any movement with his arm was a torture, and he had not slept at all for four nights. He could not avoid Harry altogether and snapped viciously at the youth when Harry asked him anxiously what was wrong and added that he should go and see Dumbledore or at least Madam Pomfrey.

The concerned look on Harry's face when Severus entered the library for their Telepathy lesson did nothing to improve the suffering man's temper. Severus sat down heavily on the chair opposite Harry, his graceful movements completely non-existent. Harry shook his head and gestured towards Severus's left arm.

"I am not ill, Potter!" Severus growled. Harry shot him a defiant yes-you-are stare.

"We are not here to discuss my health. We are here to hammer some Telepathy into that obtuse mind of yours!" he continued. Harry sighed and rose.

"Just what do you think you are doing?" Severus snarled. Harry sucked at the tip of his faithful quill, which wrote:

I'm going to fetch the Headmaster.

Severus lunged forwards and seized Harry's wrist.

"You will do nothing...Ah..." A tremor rushed through his body as the pain began to subside abruptly. He pulled back his hand with a major effort.

"I refuse to be dependent on anyone. Least of all on you!" he declared irately. His face had become a sickly ashen colour, and he was swaying dangerously. As Harry watched, a trickle of blood flowed down the inside of Severus's left forearm and into his palm. The dark eyes suddenly became blank. Severus's chair fell over with a crash as he fainted against it. With a gasp, Harry leapt towards him and caught him, stumbling for a moment before lowering him gently onto the floor. His face was as pale as his husband's. He tried to pull up Severus's left sleeve, but the limb was so swollen that Harry had to use a voiceless charm to cut the sleeve and push back the cloth. His stomach lurched. The Dark Mark seemed to have grown black and red tentacles which were spreading all the way up the tortured arm. Harry groped for Hagrid's flute in his pocket and summoned Dobby. The elf arrived promptly, uttering a squeak of alarm when he appeared on the scene; and within a minute, Dumbledore and Pomfrey were sweeping into the library. Harry was holding Severus's hand tightly in his, hoping the skin contact would rouse Severus from unconsciousness...or make those obnoxious tentacles recede. Dumbledore knelt down next to Severus, placing his hand on the gaunt cheek. Harry inhaled sharply when Severus opened his eyes.

"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey was exclaiming, advancing and bending over the Potions Master.

Harry's quill flew over the parchment.

Madam Pomfrey looked pale and anxious as she examined Severus's arm, unbuttoning his robes and exposing his upper body in the process. The tentacles decorated the left portion of Severus's chest in a ghoulish, freakish manner. The matron's face was taut.

"There is no need..." Severus started to growl, trying to push her hand away. He did not, or rather, could not let go of Harry's hand – the young wizard was making sure to keep a tight grip on his fingers.

"Severus, you need to do something about this immediately. Your arm is so swollen that it is cutting off your circulation. In other words: you're in danger of losing your arm, and from the looks of it, that Dark Mark's curse is spreading – it is starting to take over your body. I do not think I am exaggerating by stating that your life is at risk."

"Poppy is right, Severus," Dumbledore affirmed, rising. Harry looked up at him, his eyes haunted.

Dumbledore rested his hand briefly upon Harry's messy hair.

"Thank you for sending Dobby to me at once, Harry."

There was a pause.

"You know what you need to do, Harry, Severus," Dumbledore resumed very softly.

Madam Pomfrey's shoulders stiffened and she studied the floor briefly before looking straight at Harry, who nodded immediately.

I will, he transmitted to the quill.

Harry turned his head and gazed at Severus, who was staring at him penetratingly, as if assessing him over and over again. Then he turned his head away.

"I cannot," he rasped.

"You have to, child," Dumbledore said.

"Severus, when will you trust Harry?" Poppy Pomfrey asked briskly.

"It's none of your business," Severus flared, sitting up abruptly and trying to tug his hand out of Harry's grip. "Let go of me!"

Harry shook his head angrily.

"Severus," Dumbledore said softly. "Are you suicidal?"

Severus glowered at a bookshelf and said nothing. Dumbledore stretched out his hand and brushed Severus's cheek tenderly with his palm.

"You will not find peace like this, my child. I shall leave you two alone, now."

His blue eyes shifted to Harry's green ones.

"Call us at once if anything happens," Madam Pomfrey said steadily. As soon as she and Dumbledore had gone – reluctantly and anxiously – Severus broke Harry's grip, wrenching his hand away. His face became white with pain again.

"I refuse to have you hold my hand while I use the bathroom," he snarled, striding out of the library and towards his bedroom, slamming the door. Harry drew a deep breath and folded his hands, clasping them in front of his face as if he was praying. Emotions ran over his face and sparkled in his eyes, finally accumulating in a film of tears which obscured his view; then he went to his own room, his posture determined, his head held high: a young man with a purpose as clear as Veritaserum.

Severus, in the meantime, staggered out of the bathroom and lay down upon his bed, moaning softly. The bedroom door suddenly opened, and Harry entered, his robes looking dishevelled. Severus narrowed his black eyes dangerously.

"What-" he began, then broke off, momentarily forgetting the waves of pain which were assailing him afresh. Harry was standing before him, completely naked, having flung off his robes. His green eyes were glittering feverishly behind his spectacles.