Unforgivable Umbridge

Chapter 6

Meanwhile, Harry back in Severus's rooms was tracing his fingers along the spines of the books on the shelves. He had never seen Severus's personal quarters before, and they were vastly different from the cold and slightly threatening atmosphere of his potions classroom.

It was surprisingly homey, filled with comfortable furniture and warm light from the lamps scattered around the room. The walls were lined with bookshelves that reached the ceiling, all filled with books that seemed old and well-loved. There were stacks of parchment, quills, and various other pieces of wizarding paraphernalia scattered across the tables and counters, the evidence of a lived-in space.

Harry was drawn to the bookshelves, his fingers tracing the spines of the books on the shelves as he wandered around the room. His hand paused on a book that looked strikingly out of place amongst the textbooks and potion manuals - 'The Hobbit' by J.R.R. Tolkien. Surprised, he pulled it out and settled on the couch to leaf through it.

It was a first edition, pages yellowed with age but well preserved. There were notes in the margins, written in Severus's neat handwriting, and some parts were underlined, others marked with a star. It was apparent that this was a well-loved book, read multiple times, and the thought of Severus Snape, potions master and feared professor, enjoying a piece of Muggle literature was unexpectedly heartwarming.

Lost in the world of Bilbo Baggins and his unexpected adventure, Harry didn't notice time passing until he was interrupted by the creak of the door opening. Looking up, he was startled to see Severus Snape himself standing at the doorway, his usual sneer replaced with a look of mild surprise.

"Potter," Severus said, closing the door behind him. "Reading my books, I see."

Harry quickly closed the book and stood up, placing it back on the shelf. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to..."

Severus held up a hand to stop him. "It's fine, Potter. Just... be careful with them. They're quite old."

Harry nodded. "I will, sir. Thank you."

There was an awkward silence, and then Severus said, "I trust you are feeling better?"

Harry gave a slight nod, "Yes, sir. But..."

"But?" Severus's sharp gaze caught Harry's hesitation.

Harry glanced down at his hands, noticing how they were trembling ever so slightly. "My hands... they're a bit shaky. It's strange."

Severus immediately moved closer, his expression serious. "Let me see."

Feeling a bubble of anxiety in his chest, Harry reached out his hands. The sensation of Severus's fingers, warm and unexpectedly tender against Harry's shaking ones, was disconcerting. A shudder he hadn't anticipated rippled down his spine.

Severus observed the trembling with a precise, attentive gaze. "Are you in pain, Potter?" he asked, his voice lacking any clear emotional inflection but the intensity of his stare showing deep interest.

Harry shook his head, a lump forming in his throat. "No, sir. I'm not hurting. Just... shaky."

Severus appeared to retreat into his mind for a moment, his eyes distant but thoughtful. "Potter, I need to know about your health. Any odd occurrences."

Feeling the weight of Severus's inquiry, Harry shrugged, reluctance evident in his posture. Discussing anything linked to the Dursleys was a sensitive territory. "Not much to tell, sir. Just the typical colds and such."

Severus's eyebrows furrowed into a frown. "And the brushes with death, correct?" His comment had a dry edge to it, which sparked a wave of embarrassment in Harry.