Unforgivable Umbridge

Chapter 5

When dawn broke, tendrils of sunlight crept through the curtain gaps, painting long strokes of illumination across the room. As Severus came to, a momentary disorientation enveloped him, last night's events appearing as fragments of an unusual dream. Yet, as the veil of sleep lifted, the stark reality rooted itself firmly again. Sitting up, a thought instantly formed, seamlessly connecting the transition from night to day—Harry.

Simultaneously, Harry was stirring into consciousness, his eyes narrowing against the harsh intrusion of the morning light. His hands were still slightly shaking, a faint echo of the tremors from the night before. He ignored them, focusing instead on the general improvement in his condition—the pain in his joints was now merely a dull throb and his throat felt less raw.

As the fog of sleep and remnants of his dreams started to recede, the events of the night before resurfaced in his mind. Had Snape really come to his aid? His mind churned with the memory, his feelings a tangled web of gratitude, surprise, and confusion. His encounters with the Potions Master had been consistently contentious, Snape's palpable disdain for him coloring their every interaction. Now, this unexpected act of assistance complicated their relationship further.

As he tried to push himself upright, he felt a wave of exhaustion hit him, his body still weak. But despite his physical discomfort, his thoughts were elsewhere. His mind replayed the night's events, and amidst the confusion and pain, he realized something.

The stoic, cold man who had always been a figure of fear and authority had shown him a side he had never seen before. A side that was caring and considerate, even if Snape would never openly admit it. The realization hit Harry like a stunning spell. His mind filled with conflicting emotions - shock, disbelief, and surprisingly, a hint of relief.

Harry rubbed his temples, feeling the dull ache subside. A mess of emotions swirled within him - confusion, surprise, and a reluctant form of gratitude. He couldn't help but ponder over the peculiar kindness that Snape had shown him, an attribute he was unaccustomed to associating with the man.

"Professor Snape..." He whispered the name, his voice trailing off as his thoughts drifted back to their past encounters. For years, he had seen Snape as a strict, cold, and often vindictive person. But then, memories of moments where Snape had protected him began to surface. The time he had saved him from Quirrell's jinx during his first Quidditch match, the numerous occasions he had defended him in the Order of Phoenix meetings, and even his constant vigilance in keeping Draco Malfoy in check. His efforts were masked under harsh words and cold stares, but they were there, Harry realized.

His thoughts were interrupted by a soft rustling sound at the doorway. Harry looked up to find Severus leaning against the doorframe, his stern gaze fixed on him. The Potion Master's usual cool expression seemed somehow softer in the morning light, his eyes revealing a hint of concern that he had never noticed before.

"Potter," Severus's voice broke through the silence, pulling Harry out of his thoughts. Severus cleared his throat and announced, "Breakfast is on the table."

With a simple nod, Harry acknowledged Severus, his thoughts swirling in an attempt to reconcile the Snape he remembered — a man of cold disdain — with the unexpected caregiver who had shown him kindness the night before. Before trailing Severus, he caught sight of neatly folded clothing at the foot of his bed, left there considerately by Severus. He picked up the garments, appreciating the simple gesture, and swiftly changed into the clean attire, feeling a bit more refreshed.

Silently, he then stepped out of the room, his footsteps lightly echoing those of Severus leading towards the kitchen. As he eased himself into a chair at the table, the familiar, comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped him, mingling with the scent of toasted bread dancing in the air.