"Oh, always," Draco gibed. "Though I can't claim to be a perfect little do-gooder like Harry there."
"I do believe I made my opinion of this sibling rivalry perfectly clear," Snape rebuked him. "Harry and you complement one another; haven't you realised as much?"
A long sigh lifted Draco's chest as he nodded.
Snape's eyes were steady as he studied the boy. It seemed to Harry that the Potions Master was on the brink of saying something more, but he evidently thought better of it. Drawing Harry up out of his chair, the man pulled him close to Apparate.
In the instant before the world melted around him, Harry almost thought Draco was going out of his way not to look at the two of them together. But he could have imagined it; he wasn't sure.
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Once they had Flooed from Grimmauld Place back into Snape's quarters, the Potions Master took Harry into his private potions laboratory and with a wave of his wand, cleared off a central counter. "Up," he instructed.
Harry thought it was a bit odd, but he obediently hopped up to sit on the counter.
Snape threw him a wry smile. "Idiot child. On your back, I meant. How else am I going to properly examine that eye?"
Flat on his back, Harry used his one good eye to stare up at the ceiling.
"Lumos," Snape incanted, and shined the light at his face. "Hmm. The swelling is largely reduced though the skin still remains colourful, to say the least. Can you open your eye at all?"
The first few times he'd tried, the attempt had been painful enough that Harry had decided he'd better wait. At his father's urging though, he strained again. "Ow, that really hurts," he groaned.
"Wait," Snape advised, leaning over closely. "I suspect some mucus has more or less glued the tissues together. Possibly a side effect of freeing yourself from Petrificus."
Reflex had Harry closing his other eye as he saw a vial and dropper approaching. Something ice cold and slick was dribbled atop his injured eyelid, and then his father's fingers were very gently massaging the potion into the corners of the eye, working the salve towards the centre.
"Try again now."
It seemed to take a while, but finally Harry found that he could open his eye. Somewhat, at least. "That's bright," he complained when the brilliantly glowing tip of Snape's wand came into view.
Snape moved his wand aside. "Keep your eye open as wide as you can and let it adjust," he instructed. "Can you see colours? Can you focus on objects both near and far? Do you feel you have depth perception--"
"Give me a minute." It seemed like bright light was still flashing inside his eyeball, but as that sensation gradually dissipated, the room came into a hazy sort of focus. It was like looking through a thick film of cobwebs, or perhaps fog. Harry found it disorienting, given that his other eye still had perfect vision. He had to repress a strong urge to snap his weaker eye shut. "Colours, yes. But things are a bit blurry on the left," he said, feeling a bit like someone was sitting on his chest. He could almost hear Severus saying breathe... Dragging in a gulp of air, Harry looked up at his father. "Can you make it better?"
"You've been so nonchalant about the whole matter that I'd begun to doubt it worried you."
"Well, I just figured you could fix it!" Now somebody was practically jumping on his chest. "I mean, you got me past everything from Samhain and that was worse. A lot worse. I never really believed you couldn't heal this too--"
"Hold still," Snape interrupted, shining that bright light again as his fingers forcibly pried his son's eye open wide. Harry couldn't help but gasp. At that, the Potions Master moved his hand to the boy's shoulder, his fingers curling snugly. "Memory is a powerful thing," he murmured, his tones smooth. "But I know you can let me do this. You did before, and that was right after Samhain. Very impressive, actually--"
Harry appreciated hearing that, but had to admit, "I'm not spooked. It's just really sore when you yank the eyelids apart, that's all. Go on though, it's all right. I want to know why I can't see. Did my eye just not like getting smashed? I hope that's all."
Snape's touch was more careful that time as he examined the eye. "A significant amount of scarring has returned to your cornea. This is more than one would expect from blunt force trauma... Draco's blow has indeed disrupted the delicate balance of magic in your eye. Eyesight Elixir may be of use... Regular strength, this time, I should think; we can use what I have on hand." Harry heard the clink of a vial. "Remember, the Elixir must coat the entire surface of your eye before your tears dilute it."
The drops stung oddly, making him desperate to blink, but Harry resisted. Funny, the Eyesight Elixir had never hurt before... "That should be sufficient," Snape finally announced.
Harry mashed his eye shut and rolled it around and around inside the socket, creepily reminded of Mad Eye Moody. But he wasn't going to end up like him; Snape would make everything all right.
When he opened his eyes again, he expected to see perfectly. Instead, the world remained half-blurred.
"Shite." Harry groaned out loud. "I really thought you could do it."
"No improvement? Well, the Elixir was far from instantaneous the first time, you will recall."
"Yeah, but this time felt different. It hurt."
Instead of commiserating, Snape gave that some careful thought. "Like salt on a wound?"
"More like vinegar. Sort of an acidic kind of sting," Harry tried to explain. "But sharper than that."
The Potions Master nodded. "I will research the matter, Harry, but I feel certain now that it will be safe to heal the tissues so that you can return to class."
"I can't return to class half-blind!" Harry stopped grumbling, though, when his father began to smooth bruise salve across his left eye.
"Don't you still have your glasses? Madame Pomfrey may be able to ameliorate the situation through a skilful charm or two."
Strange how Harry hadn't once thought of his glasses. He'd gotten so used to life without. Too bad he couldn't cast a powerful reparo on his own eye, but considering what had happened to his pillow, he didn't dare risk it. "Can't you charm them?"
"Optics is not my specialty," Snape admitted. "A licensed mediwitch will be a great deal more familiar with ways to assist students with vision problems."
"So, Pomfrey then. Sorry, Madame Pomfrey."
The barest hint of a smile ghosted across his father's features. "It is good to see you making an effort in that regard."
Sitting up, Harry passed that off with a shrug. "I don't think the last name thing is all that disrespectful. It's just how students talk when the teachers aren't around." Hopping down from the counter, he changed the subject. "I know I'm supposed to start classes come Monday, but I was sort of thinking it might be better if I went back to Devon to stay with Draco until he's allowed to come home. I mean, I know he said he was fine, but I think he's just saying that. Actually, I was surprised you left him there alone this morning. What if he panics again?"
The Potions Master slanted Harry a sidelong look. "I quite assure you, I shall know before matters grow too dire."
"Oh, you warded the Calming Draught to tell you if he drinks too much again?" Harry guessed. "Well, no offence but Draco might go a different direction next time. Something you can't predict. He's rattled, remember?"
"He's fine," Snape said in a voice that would be hard to misinterpret. He was saying that the subject was closed. But it wasn't, not as far as Harry was concerned.
"How can you know he's fine?" the boy insisted. "You can't. You're relying on how he was acting this morning, but couldn't you tell that was all an act? A cover? Draco's really upset! There's no telling what he might take it into his head to do--"