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Severus was concerned about Harry. He was always concerned about Harry when this time of year rolled around, but five years on from the war, and this had been the worst yet.
The nightmares had been prolonged and relentless. Every night for the past three weeks, Harry had woken up in the night, sometimes screaming, sometimes crying, sometimes fighting an invisible enemy.
Severus had soothed him the best he could, but he couldn’t lie that he was hopeful that, once the anniversary was beyond them, Harry would finally be able to get some rest again.
When Severus had woken up that morning, Harry had already been out of bed, and Severus had found him in the kitchen, nursing a coffee as he looked through the morning Prophet. It was a memorial version, and Severus cursed himself for not getting up earlier to get rid of it.
He watched from the doorway as Harry’s eyes lingered on the young face of Colin Creevey.
“Morning,” he murmured, stepping into the kitchen. He reached out to squeeze Harry’s shoulder as he walked past him to get a coffee of his own.
“Morning,” Harry croaked, and it immediately told Severus that today was going to be difficult, even more so than usual.
With his coffee in one hand, Severus moved behind Harry and wrapped his free arm around his waist, tugging him back against his chest. “You’re going to be okay.”
Harry nodded silently.
Filled with the need to protect Harry from the day, Severus pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “Do you want to skip the service? People would understand, Harry.”
“No. No, I should be there. Ron and Hermione are going to meet us there at eleven.”
“If you’re sure.”
Harry pressed his head back against Severus’ shoulder, and Severus felt the tremor run through his shorter frame. “I just want today to be over.”
“I know.”
…
Harry wasn’t on the map. Severus searched it inch by inch, and he couldn’t find him anywhere. Panic made him feel like his blood was on fire. After their day—the memorial service, the talks, the remembrance of everyone lost to the war—he’d been hoping to keep his eyes on Harry for the rest of the night.
Harry had been trying to keep a facade of being okay all day, but Severus knew him well enough to know that it was just that; a facade.
He’d only gone for a quick shower. He certainly hadn't expected Harry to leave their quarters.
Trying to calm himself enough to think clearly, Severus tried to think about where Harry would be. A thought skittered across his mind and took hold. Grabbing his cloak, Severus left the dungeons at a brisk walk.
He crossed the grounds, and pressed the little knot that would stop the Whomping Willow from attacking him, and then slipped through the tunnel towards the Shrieking Shack.
It seemed to take a very long time to make it through the tunnel, despite Severus being in a rush, but when he finally did make it, a flickering light in the main room told him that he was likely right in his thoughts.
He pushed the door open, and found Harry sitting on the ground, staring at the spot where Severus had almost bled out after Nagini’s attack. The flickering light was coming from a couple of conjured candlesticks, and it made the room feel even more eerie than it usually did.
“You nearly died right here,” Harry whispered.
He was crying.
Severus dropped down to the floor beside him, pulling his gaze away from the spot with a gentle hand on his cheek. “Hey. Stay with me, okay? Harry, I’m right here.”
“But you—”
“Survived,” Severus interrupted, gently but firmly. He wiped away the tears on Harry’s cheek. “I’m right here, with you. I’m not going anywhere.”
“That’s what the nightmares have been about,” Harry admitted, hiccuping a little. “I keep seeing you dead, Severus. I can never stop it from happening.”
“You saved me,” Severus murmured, tugging Harry into his arms. He hugged him tightly. “You saved me, and I’m right here.”
He held Harry until he’d calmed down, and then moved away a little so he could look at him. “Are you ready to go home?”
Harry nodded silently, and allowed Severus to help him to his feet. Though it was a little awkward, Severus held Harry’s hand all the way back down the tunnel, and out onto the Hogwarts grounds. They walked, side by side back up to the castle.
“I’m sorry,” Harry murmured, as they stepped into the warmth of the Entrance Hall. “I know I haven’t been easy to live with lately.”
“The only reason it isn’t easy is because you’ve been suffering, and I wasn’t able to fix it,” Severus replied. “I just want you to be happy, Harry. Happy, and healthy, and not sleep deprived if at all possible.”
Harry chuckled a little at that, and then nodded his head wearily. “I do need sleep, you’re right. It’s been… bad these last few weeks.”
“I know.”
Instead of leading him straight to bed, though, Severus guided Harry onto the ink-blue sofa in their living room, and lit the fire. “I’m going to get you something light to eat,” he murmured, when Harry made a questioning sound. “You haven’t eaten today, and even if you’re not particularly hungry, you should still eat.”
Harry nodded. “I… yeah, okay. I’ll try.”
…
Severus wrapped his arms around Harry once the two of them had gotten ready for bed, and pulled him in closer. They didn’t usually go to sleep so entangled in each other—both of them liked a little space when they slept—but Severus thought, for one night, it would be worth it.
If it could keep the nightmares away and allow Harry to sleep, it certainly would be.
“I love you,” Harry murmured, pressing a kiss to Severus’ chest.
“I love you too,” Severus replied. “And Harry?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m right here. I didn’t die. I’m here.”
Harry pressed just a little closer. “I know. You’re here. I know.”