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"Potter," Severus said, lowering himself slowly into the chair in the back dining room of The Three Broomsticks. He took a shuddering breath and willed the pain in his hips to ease. When it didn't, he resigned himself to being uncomfortable through dinner. At least it was pleasantly warm, even if it was a bit more crowded than usual.
Harry tilted his head, giving him a considering look. "Are you all right?" he asked after a moment more of silence.
"No worse than usual." Severus was lying, and they both knew it. His joints, damaged in the war, were slowly disintegrating from the abuse they'd received. Each day it was a bit harder to get out of bed. And Severus knew one of these days he just wasn't going to manage it at all.
"If you don't mind my saying so, it does seem somewhat worse than usual." Harry's voice was circumspect, nearly deferential, as it had never been when he was a student. His voice also carried a note of genuine concern that hadn't been there when Harry was younger. Even if it didn't help the pain, that alone warmed the cold corners of Severus' heart.
"I do, in fact, mind a great deal, as you well know. Besides which, there is nothing that can be done about it." He didn't want to talk to Harry about his injuries and what had caused them. They'd discussed it over the years and there was nothing new to add. Pity was something he could not abide.
Severus looked around. Although they had been coming here for years, people still stared at them as though they were some type of exotic display. It annoyed him as much now as it had in the beginning.
"You know, I've been doing a bit of research on this type of thing," Harry said, casually. As if they both didn't know how much time Harry devoted to his studies. "I might be able to help."
Severus scowled at one inconsiderate woman, staring at them from two tables away. Dismissing her, he turned his ire on Harry. "I think not. I'm not in such bad shape that I need to turn to you. You're hardly out of healer training. Talk to me when you have some experience."
"I'm five years out of my training. I'd say I was at least somewhat experienced." Harry's tone held his justifiable pride in his accomplishments.
Despite knowing Harry had worked hard to become a healer, Severus was determinedly unimpressed by it. "Compared to what?"
Harry sighed softly, accepting defeat. "How have you been otherwise, then?"
"I’m quite fine. This year's batch of little terrors are almost gone. I'm looking forward to a quiet summer." Hopefully, a warm one as well. The winter had been particularly brutal, so much so that he'd considered moving out of the dungeons for the first time since coming to Hogwarts to teach. As a compromise, he'd taken an apprentice to help with the more grueling aspects of dealing with his students.
Severus focused his attention on Harry. "You know, this really is becoming unnecessary."
"What is?" Harry was playing dumb again. Not that it was hard in his case.
"This," Severus said, waving a hand. It was an old argument. One he had long since stopped wanting to win, but which he persisted in as a matter of form. "I don't need your continued presence to impart some reflected legitimacy to my life."
"I'm rather fond of our dinners out. It gets me out of St. Mungo's for a while. You wouldn't want to deprive me of your company." Harry batted his eyelashes at him.
"I can't see why you still bother with it. It's not as if you get anything out of it, either." Severus made his disdain clear, although he admitted to himself that Harry probably knew it was contrived.
"Well, the truth is…." Harry paused and looked down, no doubt going for the sweet and shy. Something he could no longer pull off with any credibility. "You see…I've developed this mad, passionate crush on you."
"Just recently? What took you so long?" Severus held back a chuckle. At some point, he'd hinted to Harry that there might have been another reason Harry had spent so much time with him. Harry had laughed in his face and teased him about it from then on.
"No, no, not recently. It's been years. Really." Harry smiled innocently and looked at him with wide eyes.
Would that any of it were true, Severus thought, carefully hiding what must never be seen. "Why have you just now declared your intentions? It's been ten years."
"I move slowly," Harry said, clearly still enjoying his joke.
However amusing it had been at first, it was starting to give Severus a sour stomach. No doubt, if it went on much longer it would ruin his mood, which hadn't been all that good to begin with. "At this rate, I'll be dead before you try anything else. Just as well. I'm not interested."
Harry put a hand on his heart and sighed dramatically. "I'm heartbroken. Crushed. I'm sure I won't recover."
"I'm quite sure your latest Weasley will be devastated to learn of this turn of events." Severus was proud of himself. He'd managed to keep all of his bitterness out of his tone.
Harry's face lost all of its amusement.
Oh, bugger. Severus realized he'd managed to say the wrong thing. Not that he cared, of course, but it wouldn't do to have Harry pouting through dinner. "What happened with…George, isn't it?"
"Broke up with me. I think I really hurt him, too." Harry looked like he'd been hurt as well.
Severus didn't care to have the details of that relationship, or any other relationship that Harry'd had. It didn't stop him from asking, though. "If he broke up with you, then why is he hurt?"
"Because I was never going to love him the way he loves me." Harry looked down and played with his fork. "He's been pretty gone on me…well, since he met me."
"Merlin, you were eleven." Severus' memory of Harry at eleven was not at all pleasant. Actually, all of his memories of Harry as a teenager were such that he sometimes wondered how they had managed to ever get beyond it.
"Well, he was what, thirteen." Harry sounded defensive.
It wasn't what Severus had meant, anyway. "It's a very long time to carry a torch for someone."
"I'd like to find someone to love like that." Harry looked away, toward the large fireplace across the room.
Severus shook his head at Harry's wistful tone. He'd never admit it, especially not to Harry, but there was some small part of him that wanted someone to love him like that, too. Not just anyone, either. He immediately shook off the thought. "I'm sure you're not going to accomplish that if you persist in having dinner with me every two weeks."
"Are we on that again?" Harry snapped.
Severus supposed that he had agreed to these dinners in the beginning. But in his own defense, it had been in his best interests to be seen with Harry Potter -- the savior of the Wizarding World -- in public. It had helped his reputation immensely over the years. If there were more to it than that, he wasn't going to question it now. "I'd rather have that than a dissertation on the woes of dating Weasleys."
Harry chuckled. "That's why. You make me laugh."
"I would think that George Weasley would do that a great deal better than I can." But Severus was pleased with the compliment.
"Yeah, he was funny. And nice. And a whole lot of other things." Harry's shoulders slumped.
"Like ambitious?" Severus put in. Both of the twins had always seemed more Slytherin to him than Gryffindor. It was something of a curiosity that the Hat put Weasleys into Gryffindor only, no matter where else they might actually have belonged.
Harry shrugged. "Maybe we should get off this subject. How goes it with the librarian?"
"My love life is not any better than yours. I thought I told you last time, Madeline is leaving at the end of this term and doesn't want to be involved anymore." Severus tried to work up the energy or feelings to miss her or even care that much, and he couldn't. She had been a dalliance while he waited for other…better things. None of which had come his way.
"You didn't mention it," Harry said as if he were annoyed that Severus hadn't.
"I'm sure I must have done. More likely you weren't listening." Severus wasn't sure he'd actually mentioned it. It was possible that he hadn't. It wasn't that important.
"I pay attention." Harry sounded vaguely insulted.
"Only when it serves your purposes."
"All right. So, are you the one who is heartbroken, then?"
"You should know me better than that. It was nice…" And, really, nice was all it was. There were times when he desperately wanted someone to come home to, someone to hold him when it hurt. However, he'd known from the beginning that Madeline was not that person.
"Talk about damning with faint praise. Don't you like women?" Even though Harry's tone was amused, there was a note of something deeper in his voice.
Or perhaps Severus just wanted to believe there was.
"I like them just fine. I simply couldn't make…" Severus sighed. He often wondered how he got into these conversations with Harry, especially since they made him uncomfortable and he was fairly sure they did Harry as well. Yet, here they were, having another one.
"A connection? Yeah, that was me and George."
"And you and Ginevra and you and Charles, as well." Severus found it rather amusing. Harry's antics were so bloody transparent. "Why don't you simply have Molly and Arthur adopt you and be done with it?"
"That's not why," Harry said, sounding far more defensive than was warranted.
Severus didn't bother to suppress his chuckle. "Of course it is. Why else would you have dated three of seven so far? The only reason you didn't date Ronald was, as you've mentioned more than once, he is the straightest man alive. I'm not sure that would have mattered. Bill is married. That really only leaves Fred, whom I understand is nearly as straight as Ronald. Unless you're desperate enough to consider Percy…."
Harry looked green at that and shuddered. "Not Percy. Not if he were the last person on Earth. Besides, it wasn't like that with Charlie. He was just for fun."
"And Miss Weasley?"
"I haven't gone out with Ginny since seventh year. Where did you get Ron from, anyway?"
"I've always wondered what two school boys might have got up to." If there were a Weasley that Harry might have made a go of it with, Severus had always thought it would be *that* Weasley. Of course, he'd rather not think about doing anything with anyone with such obnoxiously red hair.
A look of something…too unlikely to consider flashed across Harry's face, but it was gone just as fast.
"I love the guy dearly, and even if he weren't as straight as you say, it would be like kissing my brother. If I had one. Which now that you mention it, I do. Oh, and, big surprise, it's Ron."
Severus was not sure he believed that denial, but even if Harry did have unresolved feelings for that particular Weasley, it would not matter. Weasley had, quite unsurprisingly, married Granger in a huge wedding spectacle after the war ended. Predictably, they had produced progeny, although fortunately not nearly as many as Weasley's mother had produced. "I think it would be easier to be adopted."
"You know, even now, they would probably do it. Well, once George gets over being angry at me." Harry let out a huge sigh. "And Ron, too."
"You seem more upset about Ronald than George." Which wasn't all that surprising, all things considered.
"Well, yeah. He's angry because he told me not to get involved with George in the first place. I still don't understand exactly what his objections were. He seemed to think I was in love with someone else." Harry's expression was completely perplexed. It was clear he didn't have a clue what Ronald might have been talking about.
"Are you?" Severus steadfastly refused to allow anything other than the blandest sentiment to creep into his voice. But he was very much afraid that he *did* know.
Harry shook his head, his face infinitely sad. "No. That's just it. I was hoping it would work out with George. I'd like to settle down. But no one will have me."
Severus snickered. That tone was too perfect. "You do know how to lay it on, don't you?"
"You're not being very sympathetic." Harry's tone brightened and he smirked.
"If you wanted sympathy, you shouldn't have come to me." There was some tiny unacknowledged part of Severus that was glad he had.
"I guess not." Giving him a mock hurt look, Harry picked up the menu. "Shall we order?"
"I can't believe you don't have it memorized at this point." Severus eyed the menu with disinterest.
"I keep hoping they might have something new."
It amused Severus to hear how hopeful Harry sounded.
"Gryffindor."
Harry stood watching Severus limp away. His movements were getting slower and more deliberate over time, and that worried Harry.
When he was with Severus, he carefully hid his concern. Severus would see it as pity and eviscerate him. But he owed Severus all the same, more than he was ever going to be able to repay in this lifetime.
"It's unseemly for you to be seen with the likes of him," an older woman with steel gray hair and an ugly scowl on her face hissed at Harry, as Severus went out the door. She had been sitting a few tables away, but had come over to stand beside him when Severus left.
Harry looked down at her. She came only to his shoulder. "I can't see that who I have dinner with is any of your concern."
She clearly didn't recognize the warning in his voice. "He's a Death Eater. He murdered Albus Dumbledore --"
"At Dumbledore's request. More than ten years ago." Harry was so tired of fighting this battle.
"He still did it. He's still a Death Eater. How can you stand his stench?" Her eyes flared with hatred.
Harry bit his tongue. He wondered what gave people the idea they could dictate his life, but then he remembered that they didn't really know or care about him personally. It was all about The Boy Who Lived.
"Listen to me," he said softly, but with the weight of all his authority in his voice. "Severus Snape saved my life and that of Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, and traded his life to do it. That he survived what they did to him is a miracle. He lives in pain day in and day out because they tortured him for weeks after he helped us escape. You know nothing, nothing at all about him or what he did for us during the war."
"I know plenty. My son died fighting that war, too. It galls me that a traitor still lives."
It was always like that. They needed someone to blame and Severus was a convenient target. And they needed someone to revere and Harry hated that as well. "You may have lost a son, but you're not the only one who lost someone they loved. I lost my parents, my godfather, and so many of my friends that I can't begin to count them. I very nearly lost my life."
"Yet you still defend him?" Some of the animosity had gone out of her tone, but her eyes still blazed.
"To my dying breath. He is the reason we won the war, you silly woman. Where do you think we got our information, if not from someone in Voldemort's inner circle? Were it not for him, we would all be dead, or worse yet, serving Voldemort, and wishing we were dead." Harry's voice had risen with each word until he was shouting at her.
He knew that part of that was his own guilt. Despite all the evidence he'd had, Harry had ignored what Severus was doing to help them for months, simply because he hated him. They had been captured because he'd refused to accept that Severus wasn't a traitor. Dumbledore had told him to trust Severus and Harry should have believed him.
She cringed back, shocked. "That can't be true. It can't be."
"Whether you believe it or not, whether you like it or not, does not make it any less true." Harry lowered his voice. He hated making a scene, and this was not the first or the tenth time he'd made this one. No doubt tomorrow's *Prophet* would carry the story. In less than glowing terms, as well.
She deflated, her shoulders slumping, her manner still angry, but now defeated.
"The war ended years ago. It's time to let it go. The past is gone." Harry put a hand on her shoulder. In spite of the tirade, he was left feeling sorry for her.
"How can you do that? How can you let go? You were the one we all looked up to, the one who saved us all." Clearly, she wanted him to take up the reins of leadership again.
The very thought filled Harry with horror. "I've gone on with my life."
"I've read that you're a healer now."
"Yes. I am. And that's what my life is now. You should move past this, too."
She nodded, tears in her eyes, and then she moved away.
Harry sighed and sat back down at the table, glad Severus had left before this had happened, although he knew Severus would hear about it or read about it. He always did. At least they wouldn't discuss it.
"Ron took the kids to his parents," Hermione said, her tone carefully neutral. She stepped aside and let Harry in, waving him to the sofa.
Most Sundays, Harry had dinner with Ron and Hermione. They had established the ritual early on to make sure they didn't let life get in the way of their friendship.
"He's still not speaking to me, then?" Harry sighed. He hated it when Ron was angry at him, especially when he deserved it, like he did now.
"No. But he'll cool off. He always does."
Harry was sure he would, but that didn't make him feel any less guilty about the whole situation with George. More than that, it depressed the hell out of him that he couldn't seem to fall in love with anyone. "I know. He's right this time, though. I hurt George."
"You did. You should have known better." She disappeared into the kitchen for a moment and then came back. "Dinner will be in about half an hour."
"I don't know why everyone says that -- that I should have known better. I wanted it to work out with George." He watched her fix him a drink. He hated feeling like he'd done something wrong, or rather, something even more wrong than usual. Maybe it was just that it was George and everyone loved him, too.
She gave him a disbelieving look. "How is Professor Snape doing?" Hermione handed him a drink and sat down beside him.
Taking a hint when it was shoved in his face, Harry said, "He's in a lot of pain. I wish he'd let me talk to him about the procedure I've been working on."
"You mean you haven't yet? I had lunch with Minerva the other day and she told me that he's getting worse. You should say something to him." Hermione's tone was faintly admonishing, which usually annoyed him, but Harry knew she was right this time.
"I know. I just don't want to push too hard." Harry hated to see Severus in such pain, especially knowing there was something he could do about it. He also knew that Severus prided himself on suffering in silence, which annoyed Harry no end. But that was Severus.
She put a hand on his arm. "Are you okay with this?"
Confused by the comforting gesture with seemingly no reason for it, he tilted his head and looked at her. "With what exactly?"
"With what's going on between the two of you?"
Her expression told him he'd missed an important part of the conversation. "What are you asking me?"
"You know what I mean." She straightened her shoulders and glared at him. "I don't know who you think you're fooling with this, Harry. It's not as if it's a secret."
Usually, he could make some sense out of what Hermione said, even if she was being obscure or not saying what she meant. This time, however, he was totally lost. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about Snape. And you."
Severus and him? She said it as though there were something more to it than their being friends. "All right, what did I miss?"
She stared, clearly thinking she could will him to understand. "Why are you thinking about doing this for him in the first place?"
Harry still wasn't sure what she was trying to get at. "Do you want me to admit I don't hate him anymore? News flash. I haven't hated him in years and really, you should know that."
"It's more than that," she said, giving him a rather Severus-like look that made it clear she thought he was being particularly dense. "You've no idea, do you?"
Frustrated, Harry's jaw tightened and he fought not to grind his teeth. "I don't know and I wish you'd just say it."
"How can you not know? Haven't you ever wondered why you've done what you've done for him? I mean, you spent years on the research to fix his joints. You've had dinner with him once a fortnight for ten years. Doesn't that say anything to you?"
Harry was ready to start screaming. "I have dinner with him, almost always in public, I might add, so that he wouldn't be ostracized for his part in Dumbledore's death. You know that, too." Harry didn't mind admitting that after a very short time, he'd started to look forward to those dinners or that he enjoyed Severus' company. That acerbic wit and keen intelligence were a welcome relief from the stress of his research. Nowadays, being with Severus was like a comfortable chair and a good book, relaxing and stimulating at the same time.
Somehow, he didn't think that was what she meant. "Against all odds, Severus and I got to be friends. Good friends, even."
"No. Not just friends." She frowned. "Harry, a year of dinners, maybe even two, would have worked just as well. Why ten years?"
"I enjoy his company. He's actually quite funny." But that still didn't tell him what she was on about. Harry was beginning to run out of patience with this whole conversation. "Tell me."
She looked right at him and raised her eyebrow. Clearly, she was waiting for something more and Harry wracked his brain to figure out what. "Don't you think after all this time, he's really more than a friend?"
The pieces clicked together and Harry got what she was trying to say. He struggled to keep a straight face. "The problem with that is that it's not true."
Hermione's look was completely incredulous. "Of course it is. Anyone can see it. I can't believe you're being this dense."
"I'm not. I know you don't want to believe it, but I'm twenty-eight years old and self-aware enough to know how I feel about someone. You're wrong." Harry could not believe that Hermione, of all people, believed such a thing. He'd always thought she was more perceptive that that. How disappointing to learn that she didn't know him as well as he'd always thought.
"I don't think so, Harry. I think you're missing what's in front of you."
A wave of annoyance passed through him. "Think about what you're saying about me. Don't you think I'd have at least a bit of a clue by now? I'm really *not* that dense."
She looked at him, horrified. "You aren't in love with him? But…but…everything you've done for him over the years."
"We're friends. I like him. I'm not in love with him. I've never thought about him like that." Until that moment, it never even occurred to him. He thought perhaps he should be feeling more horrified by the idea. But it filled him with warmth. Not that he was actually *in love* with Severus.
"But…everyone thinks you've done what you've done because…well…because, you're in love with him."
He couldn't believe that his friends would spend that much time speculating about his love life. But then, he could never believe that strangers wanted to speculate about his life, either. That had been going on most of his life. "Surely not everyone?"
"I haven't talked to anyone except Ron about it, but --"
"Wait, you and Ron talked about me supposedly being in love with Severus? Why should it matter to you?" Harry's voice rose and outrage flooded through him. How dare they jump to that kind of conclusion without even consulting him? "I can't believe you didn't ask me first."
There were two red splotches on her cheeks now. "Think about what you've done for him. You took up a whole course in healing to fix his joints."
"I became a healer because *I* wanted to. It had nothing to do with Severus. I wanted to do something that would help people and not have to kill anyone else while I did it. I worked dammed hard to get into the program I'm in. I didn't do that for Severus, either."
After the war, choosing not to be an Auror had been easy. Finding something else he wanted to do, something meaningful and worthwhile, had taken a lot of soul searching and thought. With everything else going on at the time, he knew he hadn't talked about it that much with them.
"So, you did it for the betterment of wizardkind?" She sounded as if she couldn't believe that Harry could have any higher goals in life.
"I did it because I was interested in it. It's fascinating to be able to work on a new procedure that is going to help people." Okay, so maybe that wasn't the only reason Harry had chosen it, but it wasn't because he was in love with Severus. Even if he was very glad it was going to help the stubborn bat, if or when Severus agreed to allow it.
Hermione met his eyes. "I can't believe what you're saying."
"I don't see why you're insisting. Really, Hermione. I'm not. You're going to have to take my word on this."
Hermione sighed, but she seemed at least a bit more convinced. "Okay. I'm sorry."
"Who else besides Ron knows or thinks they know this?" Harry had that sinking feeling in his stomach again. The one that he always got when something was about to go badly wrong.
"I don't know who for sure, but it's been pretty much accepted amongst your friends for years. We all kind of assumed…sooner or later…." She wasn't looking at him.
"Nice of someone to mention it to me. That doesn't say much about your opinion of me, does it?" Harry had a horrible thought. "Does this include Severus, too?"
"He's been having dinner with you for the last ten years. The chances are that he has wondered why you've been doing it, too."
Harry knew Severus. "Maybe, maybe not. The only reason he came to dinner, especially in the beginning, was because it was in his best interest to do so. There is no love, hell, probably very little liking, involved." As much as he told himself that it didn't bother him, that it didn't matter what Severus thought, he knew he was lying. He cared.
She laughed again. "You don't know that."
"Stop already. I am never going to let Ron hear the end of this. Of course, he'll have to start talking to me again, before I can torment him." He meant it to be teasing, but it came out harsher than he would have liked.
"Speaking of Ron," Hermione said, and her voice was suddenly a bit too serious. "Why do you think he is so angry about George?"
"It's not just because I hurt George, is it?" Harry hadn't liked this conversation to begin with and now he liked it even less.
"It was more than that." Hermione's tone said what it was.
It surprised him how much that hurt. Harry had to take a deep breath before he could even attempt to speak. "I would never use George like that. Ever."
"I know that --"
"Ron thinks I used George because I wouldn't acknowledge what I was feeling for Severus?" Harry couldn't believe that Ron would think so poorly of him. That Ron jumped to conclusions and held onto them in typical Gryffindor fashion shouldn't bother him anymore. It was just Ron and for all that he'd got older, he hadn't changed that much.
Hermione wouldn't look at him. "George thinks it, too."
Didn't they know him at all? Harry sighed. This was really so typical of all of them. "What made him…you think I was even capable of that? It wouldn't even have occurred to me."
"Look at it from our point of view." Hermione didn't sound like she believed what she was saying anymore.
It sounded like an excuse to him. "Which we've already established was completely wrong. How -- how can you think that about me and him?" Harry stood. "I should probably go."
"No, Harry. Wait. I'm sorry. We didn't mean to…."
"Yes, you did." He glared at her, knowing he couldn't hide what he was feeling. And really, he didn't want to. They had been friends a long time, too long for this.
Her eyes filled. "I…we…just never thought you'd not be in love with him. Or that you didn't know it…at least on some level. We've seen you go from relationship to relationship, and continue with Professor Snape…" she trailed off, her face red.
"You're digging yourself in deeper and deeper with this." But Harry could feel his anger tapering off. He'd never been able to stay angry at her, especially when she looked contrite.
"I'm sorry. Really. You're right, we should have known better."
"At the very least, you should have asked," Harry agreed. "I mean, really. Severus is so…ugh."
She looked up at that, surprised. "You of all people should know better than to judge people on their looks."
When he thought about it, surprisingly, Harry didn't think of Severus as being an ugly git anymore. True, he'd never be attractive in any way, but he wasn't horrid, either. He was Harry's friend and that did make all the difference in the world. "It's not his looks at all. He's got the whole mean bastard personality down pat. I just can't imagine…."
"Oh, his looks are fairly…" She paused and he could tell she was looking for something nice to say. "Let's just say that he's not aged well."
Harry hated it when people disparaged Severus' at all. And no, he wasn't going to consider why it bothered him. "That's not fair. He's spent years in debilitating pain. It wears on a person."
"I'm sure it does." She had a small smile on her face.
Harry was going to ignore that, too. "Listen I want you to set Ron straight, or maybe I should do it. Yeah, I'm going to have a conversation with him about this very soon." Harry planned to call him as soon as he could find the time. He expected an apology from Ron, too.
"What about you and Snape?"
"What about us? I'm supposed to have dinner with him next week." When he told Severus about this, Harry knew that he was going to get a huge laugh out of it. He could hardly wait.
Hermione nodded and a buzzer in the kitchen rang, cutting off further conversation. Harry sighed in relief as she got up to deal with it.
Harry knocked on Severus' door, trying to tamp down his concern. He'd had a note from him earlier in the day, saying that he felt like cooking and inviting Harry to join him. Although they usually met in public, when Severus wasn't feeling well, they met in his quarters. Unfortunately, that was happening more and more frequently.
Severus opened the door to his knock, standing aside to let him in. "Potter."
"You could have cancelled if you weren't feeling well," Harry said taking in Severus' gray face and the tight line of his lips. Harry's concern went up a notch.
"I would have, but…." Severus shrugged and waved him to the sofa.
They had, by some unspoken policy, rarely cancelled. In ten years, Harry could only remember a handful of times when it had been necessary.
Harry sat back on the sofa and watched Severus slowly lower himself into the chair by the fire, breathing in sharply as his body connected with the soft leather. "The elves will bring dinner in a bit."
"Good. As much as I like your cooking, you don't look like you'd have the energy to do much of anything." Harry carefully controlled his tone. Any sign of sympathy would be treated as an affront.
"Thank you so much for that glowing assessment. I'm sure it will make me feel ever so much better. Besides, why would I cook for you?" The grousing was tight and forced. Severus' lips straightened further into a pained line.
It was all Harry could do not to jump and order a potion from St. Mungos' to help him. Only knowing how badly that would go over with Severus stopped him. "You know you like to cook. You've made dinner for my birthday the last couple of years." Sadly, Harry was sure he wasn't going to be able to manage it this year.
"Those were momentary lapses, not to be repeated."
...
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