A Bond for the Ages

Chapter 49

Severus sighed tiredly as the grandfather clock rang out eight o'clock from downstairs and carefully took the teacup from Draco's lax hands, the teen finally falling back to sleep. Placing the cup on the coffee table next to him and the chess board—the boys having played for much of the previous evening—he gently helped Draco stretch across the sofa. The boy murmured in his sleep at the movement, but settled quickly and Severus pulled the knitted blanket up to the rising and falling chest. He rested his hand on Draco's chest, avoiding the still-healing sternum wound; it was struggling to heal as severe as it was.

Ensuring the fire was still burning steadily behind him to keep the room and the child warm, he left the library. As he stepped into the hall, he was met by Alexei who was also heading downstairs. Alexei glanced at the library's double doors before they started down the stairs.

"Did he sleep at all?" Alexei asked.

Severus shook his head. "Nightmares woke him at around four, then they and his chest kept him awake."

He heard the vampire sigh next to him, but neither of them said anything. It had been two days since he'd woken after his ordeal, and the physical healing of him and the boys had progressed mostly smoothly. Harry was free of injury, Draco's seizures had ended to leave him with just his sternum wound as his back had almost healed completely, and Severus was studiously ignoring his throbbing Mark, keeping the hope in the back of his mind that Voldemort would remain incapacitated for some time to allow him to find a treatment. Physically, they were all mostly fine. Emotionally, however...

While there was certainly a comfort and a peace filling the manor, the emotional trauma and guilt Harry and Draco held continued to permeate the house. Small improvements could be seen during the day, but, at night, the boys remained haunted, leaving Severus, Leif, and Alexei to simply do what they could. As desperately as Severus wished there was, there was no instant fix to what Harry and Draco were suffering through.

Entering the kitchen, they found Leif and Harry sitting at the table next to each other. Harry, still in his pajamas, had his head on folded arms on the table and turned to Leif. Harry looked exhausted, but laughed quietly at whatever Leif was saying.

"Does anyone in this house sleep?" Severus quipped lightly, walking behind the two and letting his fingers card through Harry's hair as he passed, both of them ignoring the Gryffindor's small flinch at the touch. He was getting better.

"It's eight," Harry replied, turning his head to look at Severus. "You always had us up at eight in the summer."

"I suppose I did," Severus conceded. "How long have you been up?"

Harry shrugged awkwardly in his position. "Couple hours."

"A letter came for you a few moments ago," Leif interjected and gestured to the envelope at Severus' seat.

Severus sighed, recognizing the headmaster's hand. He ignored it, having no interest in dealing with the man so early after such a sleepless night the day before Christmas, and moved around the dividing counter into the kitchen.

"Any breakfast preferences?" he asked as he set the coffee maker to boil and poured the peach juice he'd noticed Harry had come to enjoy during the summer.

"I'm fine with just an apple," Harry said, making to grab said fruit from the bowl.

"Apple cinnamon oatmeal it is," Severus said with a pointed look at Harry when the Gryffindor was clearly about to argue. Harry turned a light pink and nodded with a small smile, receiving a gentle rub on his back from Leif. Between what the Dursleys had done to him and now feeling at fault for what had happened with Voldemort, Harry had reverted to feeling undeserving of basic things and like a burden for wanting, needing, or asking. Another thing they were slowly working on once again.