"Shut up!" Harry shouted. "You want to know what I want more than anything? I want you to stop doing that, stop putting yourself down. I like the way you look. I think you're sexy. I'm so far gone that I even love the way your hair smells when you've forgotten to wash it for a week. It's not gratitude, you stupid git! It's love and . . . and it hurts me when you keep saying things like that."
Severus' gaze dropped to his naked lap. "I regret . . . ."
Severus stopped. The thing he regretted most was that he knew that he was right, that in time Harry would come to see that he offered him nothing unusual, nothing he couldn't get elsewhere from someone with a pleasant personality and more attractive body. But he knew if he spoke those words, they would only incense Harry.
He tensed as Harry shimmied closer on the bed and took hold of both his shoulders. "Look, I'm sorry I yelled. I know this is hard for you, that you haven't had a lot of love in your life. I haven't either. But you're due, Severus. We both are. Can't you . . . try to have a little faith in me, in what I say I feel?"
How could he possibly answer that? Should he tell the truth, that if he were to lose Harry at this very moment, the last bit of life in him would shrivel up and die? That if he were self-deluded enough to accept that Harry loved him, to believe that it were true, that he wouldn't be able to survive when he finally drove Harry away? He had to keep Harry at a distance. He was fighting for his life here.
Only . . . Harry was, too. Harry's expression was so bleak, so hurt at the moment. He looked as though he knew he were waging a losing battle and that he would never get what he ached for most.
That was completely unacceptable. Harry deserved to have whatever he wanted in this life, whether it was world peace or the right to love the most cantankerous wizard ever born. All Harry wanted was for him to accept that he loved him. He wasn't even asking for him to return the sentiment.
So, instead of rejecting Potter's request, Severus gave a dry swallow and rasped out, "I can try. It . . . is not you whom I doubt."
That was apparently more of a concession than Harry was expecting. A soft whoosh of breath across Severus' cheek conveyed his shock. After a moment, Harry said, "I know that. I know that you've been hurt so often that it's impossible for you to believe that it won't happen again. When I was little, my aunt and uncle were . . . terribly cruel to me. They made me feel like I was worthless, like no one would ever love me. Then I came to school here and met the Weasleys. Every single time Molly Weasley would hug me or say something kind to me during those first few years, I always felt like if she really knew what I was like, she wouldn't be kind to me like that. I felt . . . like it was only a matter of time before I'd lose her love, lose Hermione and Ron as well . . . so . . . I do understand how you're feeling. But it wasn't true for me, and it's not true for you, either. We deserve a little happiness, Severus."
Harry's hands gave a gentle pull, and Severus allowed himself to be guided into an embrace.
Severus squeezed his eyes shut and buried his face in the crook of Harry's neck, lest he disgrace himself.
For a long time, Harry simply held him, stroking his back, rocking them gently back and forth.
"I was so scared the nightmares would drive you away," Harry finally whispered.
"The nightmares." Severus pulled back far enough to see Harry's eyes. "You cannot take a Dreamless Sleep potion every night for the rest of your life. Nor can we have you blasting up the furniture or worse. We have to find a cure for them."
Harry's expression dropped. "You said Voldemort created the curse. There is no counter spell for spontaneous magic; that's one of the reasons why it's so strictly forbidden."
"Yes. I realize that. He planted this spell deep in your subconscious. There's little chance that even someone of your power would be able to simply eradicate it, not without leaving you a mental vegetable."
"Then what can I do?" Desperation roughened Harry's voice. "I . . . I don't want to keep risking your life this way."
Severus considered the idea he'd been contemplating, and then hesitantly suggested, "While it's true that the nightmares can't be vanquished. I believe it's possible that the curse could be . . . altered."
"How?"
"Voldemort programmed your mind to replay these scenarios over and over again. I think if someone practiced in Legilimency went in and altered the dream scenario as it was happening, changed the nightmare of torture into one of pleasure, that it's possible your subconscious would store the changes, the way a Muggle computer will save changes in data when a file is overwritten."
Following his often-exasperating habit of focusing on the inessential, Harry asked, "How do you know about computers?"
"Professor Weasley showed me hers the other night while you and her husband were arguing over Quidditch teams," Severus said, wishing he were surprised that Harry hadn't noticed Hermione and him leaving the room.
"Did you like it?" Harry asked.
"Yes, it was quite fascinating, but that's hardly pertinent at the moment. We were talking about the possibility of someone using Legilimency to alter your nightmares," Severus reminded him with what little patience he could muster.
"That someone you're talking about would be you, right?" Harry questioned.
"If you'll permit it. It would necessitate my having access to your mind while you sleep. I can't guarantee that it will work, but we could try. I could put a medical monitoring charm on you while you slept so that when your heart rate became elevated when the nightmare started, it would wake me and I could enter your mind to alter the particulars of the nightmare to a more pleasant scenario. What do you think?" Severus asked nervously, very aware of the fact that he was asking the most powerful wizard the world had seen to grant him access to his unguarded, unconscious mind. An unscrupulous practitioner of these arts could conceivably program Harry to do anything they desired.
"I think it's brilliant, just like you," Harry said, giving him a fast kiss. "It's the only promise I've had in almost ten years. Of course, we'll try. If you . . . don't mind. It's asking a lot of you."
"It is your privacy that will be violated," Severus said stiffly, stunned by the ready acceptance.
"What is it?" Harry questioned, no doubt prompted by whatever was in Severus' eyes.
"You . . . trust me to do this?"
A soft glow suffused Harry's handsome features. "Like you said before, I know you. I know what is and isn't in your nature. I couldn't love you if I didn't trust you with everything I am."
Harry didn't fight fair. That was positively below the proverbial belt. Severus felt as if the very fundament had slipped out from under him at that matter of fact statement.
"It will be all right, Severus. You'll see. For the first time in forever, I have hope. You'll fix me, and we'll live happily ever after," the last was said in a joking tone, but Severus knew his romantic young lover meant the words.
All he could do was stare, stunned by the idea of anyone wanting a forever after, happy or otherwise, that included him. It was nearly too much for him to take in.
Then, Harry took his mouth in a passionate kiss that ended up with Severus flat on the bed, under Harry's reassuring bulk, with Harry doing everything in his power to convince him of that happy ever after. Somehow, when Harry was touching him like this, the concept didn't seem quite so impossible.
*~*~*
Severus awoke to the awareness that something wasn't right. He stared around his dimly lit bedroom, trying to determine what had awoken him. One of his students at his door with an emergency? That didn't feel right. Usually, they knocked more than once. His chambers were silent save for the sound of Harry and his breathing.
Harry . . . abruptly, he realized that it must have been the monitor charm that woke him. For, now that he was paying attention, he realized that Harry was breathing raggedly, making small, pleading noises.
It had been nearly a week since they'd had that conversation about his nightmares. Harry had given him open permission to enter his mind and do whatever he thought fit to try to alter the curse Voldemort had left buried deep in his subconscious. But now that the moment was upon him, Severus found himself reluctant to breech the privacy of his lover's mind.
Occlumency and Legilimency were incredible abilities, but they were a double-edged sword, as likely to injure the practitioner as the person whose mind was being probed. Mind to mind, there was no hiding truth.
Severus had been living a dream these last six and a half weeks. It was entirely possible that whatever he'd find in Harry's mind, would shatter his illusions. But, what was he going to do – allow Harry to suffer because he was afraid to find out what he truly felt about him?
Harry's face was clenched with strain. It was clear he was suffering. Severus had given his word that he'd help. His insecurities were hardly significant in light of what Harry was undergoing.
Calming his own mind as much as possible, he turned over to face Harry and reached out to lay his palms on Harry's sweat drenched temples. Touch wasn't necessary, but it helped him focus. Slowly, he reached out from inside, insinuating himself into Harry's consciousness by gradual degrees, so as not to startle him awake.
Severus needn't have worried about discovering any painful truths about Harry's feelings for him in the contact, for the moment he entered Harry's mind, it became perfectly clear that the man was too occupied to be thinking of anything other than survival.
The first thing that hit Severus was the pain. He gasped as the agony of Cruciatus ripped through him. The experience was as real as any of the times he had endured that Unforgivable under Voldemort's orders.
He dragged in a deep breath, and tried to detach from the pain, but it was all consuming. Harry seemed to be lying naked in a filthy cell, twitching and jerking on the stone floor as a masked Death Eater stood over him administering Cruciatus.
He no longer wondered why Harry woke up so confused and ready to kill. Most dreams were vague, with only parts of them clearly defined. The verisimilitude of this nightmare was chilling. Severus could smell the human waste in the air, taste the blood as Harry bit through his lower lip in the throes of the Unforgivable, and feel the icy cold stone at his back. If he didn't know better, he would have sworn it was really happening to him, that he'd somehow fallen into another dimension when he'd touched Harry's thoughts.
After what felt like an eternity, the Death Eater tired of torturing him and left.
Harry lay there on the floor, gasping for breath as he tried to regain control of his pain-locked flesh. He felt bruised and banged all over from the Cruciatus, and his back throbbed as though someone had taken a whip to it.
Distancing himself as much as he could from the raw physicality of the torture Harry had endured, Severus reached out into Harry's mind beyond the immediate scene. He could sense Voldemort's darkness all around him, which was no doubt adding to the unconscious Harry's terror.
