Chapter Text
Harry hadn’t expected the silence from Severus. He always had an answer, even if he wasn’t sure.
He tried to focus on Severus’ face, but the strange quality of the world meant that he couldn’t really see it except out of the corner of his eyes. Right in the centre of his vision there was darkness, and around that the world seemed to twist and distort, as though he was looking through uneven glass. He found his eyes darting around, trying to follow the clarity at the edge of his vision.
“What do you mean… wibbly?” Severus asked, his voice slow.
“It’s just… like when you hit your head and your vision is kinda swimmy? And there’s dots in front of your eyes and stuff.”
“Did you hit your head?” Severus was immediately much closer, his hands hovering over Harry’s head, waiting for permission to touch.
“I don’t think so? I mean, they didn’t…” ‘—hit me’ was left unsaid, and Harry hoped that Severus understood. Careful fingers checked over his head anyway, before the familiar wandwork of the diagnostic spell started up from Severus’ hands.
Harry didn’t see the results, but Severus stopped hovering as soon as the spell was done. Harry was glad, as the first of the breakfast items that Mrs Weasley was preparing had arrived on the table. Some buttered toast took the edge off his grumbling stomach, and he picked at a second slice as more and more food started to get piled up on the table.
“Harry, do you know when your vision started getting... worse?” Severus asked. Harry ignored him for the moment, focusing on the food in front of him. Even just the bread and butter were making his stomach hurt, but he was determined to eat something. He knew that Severus wanted him to eat.
“I don’t know. My room was pretty dark.”
“Yeah, the light wasn’t on when we got there, and the switch didn’t work,” Percy piped up, having joined the rest of the family at the table.
“Oh, that’s what you were doing?” George asked. Harry hadn’t even noticed Percy trying to turn the light on, so kept his focus on the food that was still piling up in front of him. He reached out with his left hand for another slice of toast, and felt the twinge of his shoulder and elbow, angry at the movement. Severus must have seen something in the movement, as he once again had gentle hands on Harry, this time on the shoulder and elbow.
“Where are your braces?” Severus asked.
“In my trunk? I think?” Harry looked toward Percy, and saw the movement of a nod.
“Have you been… were you able to…” Severus failed to finish any questions, but Harry just frowned in response, shaking his head. There was nothing he could have done. It hurt enough without putting himself through that. Why should he do things that made it hurt more? Severus seemed to just sigh in response, and pulled the plate of toast closer so that it was easier for him to reach.
Not being able to see what was right in front of him was strange. He found himself staring into the middle distance, keeping his own plate in the periphery of his vision so that he could see what was there. Every now and again he’d forget and his eyes would flick down to look at his food, only for it to be swallowed up in the swirl of grey that ran a halo around the dark spot that was the centre of his vision. Every time his thoughts skirted too close to the darkness, when he felt as though he could see the spot growing and filling his vision until there was nothing left, his chest constricted, and he forced himself to take a deep breath.
It was fixable. Severus would fix it. This was fine. He just needed… he’d go to see the magical optometrist and get a spell or a potion and everything would go back to normal.
Right?
The rest of the Weasleys gradually joined Harry around the table, and despite the early morning and the fact that all of them had missed out on an entire night of sleep, the mood was festive.
Harry wondered if it was always like this around this table, if there was always too much conversation to truly follow, and the food was plentiful and seemingly never-ending. Harry didn’t want any of it to go to waste, so he kept picking up more bits, picking at what was on his plate and accepting more every time it was offered by anyone.
Eventually, Severus put out a hand, stopping him from piling up any more on his plate, but it was still so much food. Draco had a similar pile of food n his place, but he was getting through it much faster. Not least because he wasn’t getting caught up in the conversation between the Weasleys about brooms, quidditch, catching up with each other about the friends that they had in common (mostly members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team), and the light-hearted ribbing of the twins for Percy’s ability (or rather lack of ability) when it came to driving the car.
Harry was glad to just sit in the middle of it, the noise chasing away the silence and the darkness in his own head.
His stomach really hurt now, but he didn’t want to stop. The warm food was making him sleepy despite the chatter, and Severus was right there. He let himself tip gently to one side, still half-braced to catch himself until he made contact with Severus’s shoulder. As soon as he did, Severus seemed to jump very slightly, but he braced against Harry’s weight and let him relax.
Harry wasn’t sure how long he dozed, but next he knew there was a rustling at the table, and the familiar sound of the kind of whispered shout that he often heard when out shopping with the Dursleys.
“The twins I would understand, even Ron. But Percy, really? I expect better of you”
“I had to, mum. And I was the only one that knew where he was and what was going on.”
“What was happening, then? What was going on?”
“I can’t tell you. I literally can’t, there’s Hogwarts magic involved. But I wanted to, I really did. Because I know that you would want to help Harry.”
“I always want you to be able to come to me if you or your friends need help. You know that. I never know what to do for any of you, but I hope you will always know that.”
“I do mum. Honest.”
“Then tell me about Harry. Tell me what we can do.”
“I just… I don’t know. With Snape here—”
“Professor Snape.”
“—I think that’s probably better. But I didn’t want to leave him at home any more, not when we hadn’t heard from him. I thought he might have died…” Percy’s voice disappeared into nothing, and Harry opened his eyes to see the shape of Percy leaning over into his mother’s arms, in an almost direct mirror of the way Severus on their side of the table.
“Oh, Harry, you’re awake.” Mrs Weasley sniffed and pulled away from Percy. Harry tried to blink the world into focus, putting his hands on his face to check he was wearing his glasses when he remembered.
Oh.
Harry took a deep breath, determined not to cry in front of this new person, even when the warmth of Severus’ shoulder was still palpable.
“I’m sorry for my rudeness, Mr Weasley. The food was really tasty. I didn’t mean to not finish my plate, I was just—”
“Oh don’t be silly, Harry. You were exhausted after what my boys got up to, I’m not surprised. They’ve all gone out to the garden with Draco if you wanted to join them?”
“Actually, Molly, I’m sorry Harry.” Severus reached over and put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “There are a few things I want to check before you go running around outside. I know you’re impatient to join your friends, but you’ll hurt yourself if you’re not wearing your braces.”
Harry’s face heat up. He had come to terms with the fact that his dorm mates would see him without the braces, and Severus obviously had many times, but not in front of Ron’s mum.
“Oh, of course. Percy, show the professor into the front room and make sure they’ve got everything. Harry, your trunk is still at the bottom of the stairs, do you want me to bring it—”
“That’s fine Molly, thank you,” Severus interrupted, and Harry felt the professor’s arms around him, once again lifting him from his seat. They walked together into the next room, where Harry’s eyes darted around to take in as much of the room as possible around the gap in the centre of his vision. There was a long, low table in front of a pair of sofas. On one side there was a staircase that seemed to disappear into blackness almost immediately, and at the base of it, there was the familiar shape of Harry’s trunk, placed neatly against the bannister.
Harry was placed on one of the sofas by Severus, who then disappeared to find his braces. Harry curled in on himself, and cringed when Severus came back, the various braces balanced precariously in his hands.
“Do you want help putting them on, or are you alright?” Severus asked. Harry just shook his head, suddenly reluctant to have any more hands on him, and so Severus put the braces down on the sofa next to Harry and backed away.
“I’m fine. I don’t need any help,” Harry said, petulant.
“I know you don’t. I’m just making sure there are no problems. I think we’ll probably want to do a visit to Mr Banwell in the next few days regardless, but I don’t want to discover there’s something else that I’ve missed between now and the weekend that I should have fixed straight away.”
Harry frowned at Severus, and reluctantly reached out for his braces. He didn’t want to wear them. Even after days of imagining how much easier it would be to have them on, now he could barely stand the idea of putting them back on. He knew they were going to hurt — they always did. He knew there was going to have to be extra stretching and pain and all those things to make them fit properly, and then going to see Mr Banwell there would be more again. He was sick of it. He wanted to be normal. Even with all of this, he wasn’t going to be fixed. Someone could just come along and take them away again and he’d be at their mercy. There was nothing he could do about that. Not ever.
So why bother?
Under Severus’ insisting glare he put the leg braces on. He felt the stretch and pull of his ankles as he did, and he bit back the desire to cry against the pain. Where last year it had been a relief to put these on, now it just felt like he was being taunted.
Severus leaned forward over him, and Harry couldn’t help but flinch away from it. Severus pulled back, and spoke softly.
“Alright. As long as that’s comfy you can head outside with the others. Just… be careful. Please?”
“Okay.” With as much speed as he could muster, Harry darted out of the living room, through the kitchen, and out the back door where he could hear Ron and his brothers making noise.
His hand braces were left on the sofa, discarded.
Severus had been hoping they could get an appointment sooner than this, but he supposed that getting an appointment the Monday after their early morning Friday escapades was impressive enough. Severus was starting to feel like he spent more time in the waiting room of this office than in his own home.
That had certainly been true this weekend. Harry was happy at the Burrow with the Weasleys, and so Severus was more than happy that he stay there while he continued to despair over just how tiny his house was. He had already been worried about how he and Draco were going to fit, if he'd had to host Harry as well he wasn't sure how he was going to manage it.
But Molly, and Arthur once he had arrived home on Friday evening, had been more than happy to have Harry in their house for the remainder of the summer. Severus' own propensity to mother-hen his charges had meant that he and Draco had also spent a large amount of time in the house with them. Now that he knew where Harry was, he was loath to take his eyes off him.
And now, having only gone home to change his clothes in the last forty-eight hours, he was sitting once again in the waiting room of Black Bespoke, watching the sunlight on the wallpaper in the early morning light. It was just before eight in the morning, and Harry was seemingly already a late-rising teen at heart, and was barely conscious beside him. Harry had a slice of toast in his hand, and his eyes remained closed in a facsimile of sleep as he attempted to doze on the uncomfortable bench.
On the stroke of eight o'clock, Mr Banwell opened his workshop doors.
"Mister Potter!" he exclaimed, his face far too cheery for Severus to stand this early in the day. "Come in! Wonderful to see you again, though I realise it's under less than ideal circumstances." Mr Banwell happily nattered as he ushered them into the familiar seats in the centre of the room, and Harry and Severus both settled comfortably when directed.
"Now, I understand there's been a change in your situation Harry. Some new support that you need?" Mr Banwell's eyes looked at Severus for but a moment, before he focused himself primarily on Harry.
"It's... I mean, I didn't wear my braces for a bit, and you did say I should come in if it wasn't comfy any more."
"That's right. I see you're not wearing your hands today, is that what's uncomfortable?"
"Oh, no. I just... I don't want to wear them."
Hugh's brow furrowed and he looked at Severus, as though the other adult could shed some light on what had happened, why Harry no longer wanted to use his hand and arm braces.
"Harry, can I share your summer so far with Hugh?" Severus asked, and waited for a slow count of three before Harry nodded, clearly reluctant.
Severus was sure he didn't know the full extent of what happened to Harry during his month with his relatives, but he didn't want to push, and so he shared as much as he knew.
"Harry returned to stay with his legal guardians for the first part of the summer. As part of a... punishment—“ as barbaric as it was, that was how Harry referred to it, “—he was not permitted to use his walking stick or his braces to move around the house. He was largely confined to his room as part of this—” as part of the punishment or as a result of the lack of mobility, Severus hadn't fully ascertained “—and without sufficient motivation to stay stretched and limber, his physio fell somewhat by the wayside."
That was as diplomatically as he felt he could put it. He didn't want Harry to feel attacked for the choices that he'd made during what was obviously a deeply traumatic time. Harry's responses — his startle reflex, his tendency to completely shut down in the presence of any adult — had multiplied tenfold, even compared to how he'd been at the beginning of first year. Severus at least knew a little more now, both about Harry's situation and generally how to support a traumatised child, and so he was pretty sure he was doing as much as he could.
He just hated that the best thing he could do was give Harry time.
He didn't feel like he had time. He felt like they'd not just gone backwards to where they'd been a year ago, but that they'd regressed even further.
At least here he was hoping that he'd be able to solve whatever strange aversion Harry had to his braces. Severus could barely stand to watch him suffer.
"Well, sounds like you've had a pretty rough time of it, Harry," Mr Banwell said, a smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes. "But other than that, you're in good health?"
There was a long pause while Severus looked at Harry, waiting for the boy to say something else.
Nothing.
"Harry has also been experiencing some more... pronounced vision issues."
"No, I haven't. It's fine. It can be fixed."
"Harry, we talked about this.”
They had talked about it. Extensively, the previous evening. Harry's first question about seeing Mr Banwell had been to also ask about visiting the optometrist afterwards. Harry seemed to believe that the issues with his vision were solvable.
Severus was sure they were not. He'd done as much of his own research as he could, and was sure this was something that not even magic could solve. Just like so many of Harry's problems.
It felt deeply unfair. Magic was supposed to be, well, magic. It was supposed to make things easier.
"No, we haven't even asked. We should go and see them before we decide that anything is per... permanent." Severus knew that Harry didn't want him to hear the hitch in his voice, but it was there.
"I'm sorry, Harry. What is the issue right now? If it changes, then we can get rid of some of the assistance, but even if it can just improve your time today, or this week, or however long it takes you to speak to an expert, I want to help."
"Well, it's... it's not that bad. I mean, I can still get around fine, and most stuff is still pretty easy. I can't... reading is hard. I haven't done any of my summer homework, but I'm not in a rush to do that." Harry smiled, something cheeky still in his expression. Severus was pleased to see it.
"So it's your central vision that has an issue?" Mr Banwell asked, his eyes flicking to Severus as though to check. Severus just nodded.
"Alright, so there's a few options of things that you might find helpful. You say that getting around is fine, but we can also see if there's anything that can help you navigate even more easily. I imagine that you have to concentrate harder to not run into things?" Harry shrugged, and reluctantly nodded. "And that can't have been helped by having generally reduced mobility. So we can look at both of those together. As for reading, I know you don't want to have to do your homework, but I'm sure you fancy picking up a book to read before bed, or catching up on the quidditch scores in the paper? Even if you just want to write to your friends — Circe knows the summer seemed to be an endless stream of owls in and out of my house when my boys were at school." Severus appreciated that Hugh was trying to lighten the tone, but Harry seemed to be building up a good sulk, and Hugh had to move on swiftly. "And your hands, how have they been feeling?"
"Dunno. Hurt a bit, but it's not too bad."
"Have you been using them much? If your eyes have been misbehaving, you're probably using your hands more to check where things are."
"I guess. I mean, I can see stuff out of the corner of my eye so I just don't look right at it. I'm pretty good at that now."
"That's very impressive, and it's one of the things I would encourage you to practice." Hugh looked up at Severus again and shared an intense look. Severus made a mental note to get information about this from Mr Banwell at the end of the appointment. He hadn't thought that there were exercises for the eyes that he should be encouraging Harry to do, but he was glad there was at least something that he could do to help. "But you want to be sure that you have a good hold of things, because if you drop them it might be harder to find them again, and if you do use your hands to help you see something more clearly, we don't want you to be in too much pain."
"Why bother? It all hurts anyway." Harry tucked his chin against his chest and stared at the floor.
"Ah. I see," Hugh said, and looked at Severus with an expression on his face that said he understood perfectly. What it was, exactly, that he understood eluded Severus completely. "Well, let's start off by finding ways to reduce how much it hurts. Does that sound good?"
"You said the braces would do that, but they barely—“
"This won't be through using braces. We're going to try different ways of moving and doing some basic tasks to see if we can find a way that is easier for you. They might be strange, or take a bit longer, but I've always said it's not silly if it works. What do you think?"
"I mean… I guess. Are you going to make me wear the braces anyway?"
"I would prefer you wear the braces, sure. But I won't force you to wear them if you really hate them. We can talk about different ones — perhaps ones that don't affect your movement so much, or that support without trying to correct. There's lots of options."
"Why didn't you give me these before?"
"Well Harry, because I will always offer what I think will provide the most benefit first, and encourage people to try that before anything else. I still think the original braces that I designed, and the stretching and movement that I recommended to go with them, will be best for you in the long run."
"And I am responsible for your care," Severus added, "and so I chose it for you. It is the responsibility of adults to make decisions for children when they may not know all the circumstances of what makes a decision good or bad. Adults are better at thinking about long-term consequences. I don't want you to make a decision for your comfort right now that you'll regret when you're older." Severus shot Hugh an angry look. He did not want Harry to stop treatment, to make the same mistakes that he had during the war. Perhaps his own pain, now a throbbing backdrop to his whole life, could have been reduced, or even eliminated, if he'd had someone to tell him that he should be thinking about the long term when he first came to Mr Banwell's door.
"That's right, but even children get some say, even if it’s just that something hurts. Everyone gets to choose what happens to their own bodies.” Hugh shot Severus an admonishing look, though he was still talking to Harry. Severus frowned back.
This wasn't over. No mater what Hugh said, Harry was going back in those braces. He wouldn't let Harry make the same mistakes.