He Will Be Loved

Chapter 15 - Gaining Strength

Harry grunted with effort as he used the bedrail to pull himself to his feet, leaning on it heavily as his legs shook violently. His arms trembled, and sweat dripped down his face as he clenched the bedrail in a white knuckled grip, wincing at the pressure on his casted wrist.

"What do you think you're doing?" Harry startled, his grip on the railing slipping, and he braced himself to make contact with the hard floor. Instead, he felt strong arms catching him around the waist before he was carefully deposited back onto the bed.

"I'm sure Madam Pomfrey wouldn't be pleased to find out about your little bid for freedom, Mr Potter." Came the drawling voice of his potions professor.

Harry peered up at the man from where he sat sprawled on the bed. "I just wanted to go to the bathroom, sir." He explained. "Not that I got very far." He added bitterly, his face flushed with frustration and embarrassment.

"And that's exactly why Madam Pomfrey told you not to get out of bed without supervision." Snape chastised him, taking his usual seat beside Harry's bed. "And you seem to forget that you almost died. You were severely injured- you're still recovering. You can't expect to be able to do everything right away."

"I can barely stand up!" Harry burst out, throwing his hands up in frustration. "It's going to take forever!"

"And if you rush and push yourself to hard, it will take even longer." Snape countered calmly, tactfully ignoring Harry's outburst.

Harry glowered down at his lap, unwilling to admit that Snape was right. "What are you doing here?" He asked, trying to sneakily change the subject.

Severus resisted a smirk at the obvious attempt, but went along with it, moving on to the reason he had come to the hospital wing in the first place. 

"Madam Pomfrey wants to start you on a physical therapy program to help get your strength back." Severus told him. "She will be doing a few simple exercises with you later today, but it has been suggested that you also attend several counselling sessions."

"Counselling?" Harry repeated, the incredulous look on his face clearly showing his thoughts about the idea.

"Yes." Severus replied firmly. "What you have been through cannot be brushed aside, Harry. It will do you more harm than good, even if it pains you to talk about it now."

"But it's fine!" Harry protested. "It wasn't even that bad. You're just overreacting because I'm the Boy Who Lived." A Slytherin worthy sneer crossed his face at the mention of the famous moniker.

Severus had to close his eyes and draw in several deep breaths in order to contain his rising anger. "That's not the reason, Harry! We would do the same for any child in your position. We're doing this because we care about you, not because of some meaningless nickname. What they did to you was abuse- no." Severus interrupted himself, seeing Harry open his mouth to object. "No child deserves to be treated the way you have." Seeing that Harry was still unconvinced, he tried a different approach. "Would you say it wasn't that bad if it were happening to Mr Weasley or Miss Granger?" 

A horrified look crossed Harry's face. "No. Of course not!" 

"Then why is it 'not that bad' when it happens to you?" Severus asked.

At this, Harry drew up short, his mouth half open as his affronted outcries died off before they could be voiced. He stared at the Potions Master blankly, his brain seemingly shorting out as he was confronted by Severus' logic. Severus let him process what he had said, hoping that his words would begin plant a seed of doubt in Harry's mind about the ideas the Dursley's had been beating into him his entire life.

"You-" Harry's voice cracked slightly, and he cleared his throat before trying again. "You think I should do it?" He asked, looking up at Severus through his fringe of messy hair. "It will help?"

Seizing the opportunity, Severus leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his dark eyes focused intently on Harry's own green ones, forcing the boy to meet his gaze. "Yes, it will. Don't do what I did, Harry. Talk to us. Let us help you."

Still looking slightly reluctant, Harry asked, "Who will I be doing these sessions with?"

Severus sighed. He knew this question was coming. Preparing himself for a massive outburst of protests, he let out a long, slow breath before answering. 

"Me."

There was a pause.

"Oh thank Merlin!" Harry exclaimed in relief, flopping back onto his pillows, the trepidation that had been building dissipating almost immediately. 

Severus sat stunned, the boy's reaction not at all what he had expected. Where were the protests, the disgust at having to spill his deepest thoughts and feelings to his greasy dungeon-bat of a professor? As he watched Harry's relieved expression, he found himself questioning the boy's sanity. Had he received a head injury that both he and Madam Pomfrey had somehow missed?

Harry caught sight of his professor's stupefied face and let out a small giggle, which turned into a snort, and then he found himself descending into a full blown fit of laughter. Watching the near hysterical boy clutching at his stomach as tears of laughter ran down his face, Severus's stunned expression turned to one of fond exasperation. 

Maybe this would work out after all.

***

Later that morning, just as Severus had promised, Madam Pomfrey guided Harry through a series of simple exercises aimed at strengthening his muscles and getting him moving after so many days of laying sedentary. He found himself beginning to sweat after the first few exercises, his muscles burning as he struggled to push back against the nurse's hand, exerting as much force as he could. After half an hour of similar, but still gruelling exercises, Madam Pomfrey conjured up a chair ten feet from his bed, and had him attempt to walk to it. 

By the time he was halfway across the short distance, Harry found himself panting as he slowly dragged his feet one step at a time, Madam Pomfrey hovering at his side at the ready in case he collapsed.

"Just a few more steps, Harry. That's it, well done." She congratulated as Harry dropped into the bright purple armchair that he had been aiming for, shaking and sweating with exertion and feeling as if he had run a marathon. 

"Are we done?" Harry asked as he tried to get his breathing under control. He swiped a trembling hand across his forehead, dragging his sweat drenched hair away from his face.

"Yes," Madam Pomfrey told him, smiling at him reassuringly. "We're done. I want to do some more exercises with you tomorrow morning, but I don't want you to try walking again until tomorrow afternoon." She continued as he allowed her to levitate him back to his bed. With another wave of her wand, she cast a cleansing spell, the sheen of sweat that covered his body disappearing in an instant, leaving him feeling refreshed, but still very much in need of a shower. Cleansing spells could only do so much, but Madam Pomfrey was worried that Harry would collapse if he tried to stand long enough to shower properly, and after his struggle to walk a few feet, Harry found himself agreeing with her assessment.

A tray of food was placed on Harry's lap, and he just barely avoided grimacing as he stared at the soup and bread. It was only lunchtime, and he already felt like he could sleep for a week. Seeing Harry's expression, Madam Pomfrey said sympathetically, "I know you're tired, but I want you to try to eat as much as you can and then take your potions. Then you'll be free to rest as much as you'd like."

Harry sighed, picking up the spoon that lay beside his bowl. He was really getting sick of soup and bread.