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"Mr Potter," a voice said calmly but Harry wasn't listening. Something had happened to Severus, that was the only reason he'd have a stranger's head in his Floo at this hour.
"We have him in isolation…know something more by morning…shouldn't be fatal…"
Fatal? Harry rushed to the bedroom, gathered up Severus's version of a first aid kit. It held all manner of potions and ingredients, some possibly illegal, but if he could just get it to Severus he knew everything would be all right.
He dashed back through his sitting room, the Healer calling out, "Mr Potter? Where are you going?" It was then Harry realized he'd better close the Floo connection before he Disapparated.
It seemed to take an eternity to find the floor, the ward, the room, the bed they had Severus in. He was surrounded by an impenetrable field of magic.
"I can't touch him?" Harry asked plaintively. The Healer shook her head.
"Not until we are sure he's out of the woods. Any physical contact could hamper the healing process." Harry practically fell into the chair at Severus's beside. The Healer patted him on the shoulder.
"He may be able to hear your voice," she said and then left him.
Harry rubbed his sweaty palms on his thighs and exhaled. Severus looked peaceful, eyes closed, dark hair spilling across the pillow. Knowing he couldn't touch him was torture. He longed to brush his fingers across his stubbled cheek, kiss the tip of his nose.
Instead he began to speak, not sure where to start, but confident that the sound of Severus's voice would bring him back from the brink of death.
He told Severus how much he loved him. It was something they both knew but rarely put into words. Somehow words tended to get caught in their throats but actions and the physical manifestation of their love spoke more clearly than any words could.
All night Harry sat by his side, only pausing when a Healer came by to check on Severus's condition. He talked of his life with the Dursleys, how he felt when he got his OWLs, his first broom ride, his favourite things about Treacle Tart, how he'd love to visit Japan, why he'd never get Muggle contacts. Anything and everything his mind could think of.
By morning his voice was hoarse and raw. He must have dozed off when the Healer was checking Severus's vital signs because his eyes flew open when the voice he longed to hear spoke.
"If you do not cease your infernal ramblings, I shall be forced to burst my own eardrums for some much needed peace and quiet."
Harry sagged with relief and couldn't help smiling at his partner.
"I love you, too, you great git."