May I Ask?

(1) Love and Care

A/N: Hello there! If you're reading this, thank you so much! But, I must warn you! This is Snarry, and may eventually become violent as the plot continues! Not interested in Snarry, or don't like the ship? That's okay! I also will be writing Drarry, Wolfstar, and other ships (that you can even recommend!). If you do like Snarry, stick around. This will be quite the adventure! All art featured on my WattPad page is all my own, as I do not like to use other people's art without permission. Important note: These first two or three chapters started as a one shot, and then I developed a genuine plot. It gets better once you get towards the third chapter. (Grammar and spelling included, I started using a better program to write in.)
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His Master was a stupid, stupid man sometimes. Rushing down the halls of Saint Mungos, his robes billowing behind him as he snarled at all those who dared to get in his way, Severus Snape regretted ever letting Harry join the Auror force. His stomach was flipping and twisting painfully in fear, mind swirling; how badly was Harry hurt? The idea of the young man with a paper cut caused him to want to vomit, let alone broken bones, or lacerations. Feeling his stomach rebel dangerously, Severus decided instead to focus on finding Harry's room.
B-forty seven was the one he was looking for, his sharp, shimmering black eyes scanning over every ivory room label like a desperate man. The twisting knot in his chest was getting worse with every second; where was his master? The elf's thought process was becoming diluted with panic and stress, his hope of ever finding Harry draining more and more, until-
"There the bloody thing is!" Severus hissed aloud upon spotting the right room, scrambling in, eyes widening at the sight before him. His young master was laying on the bed, as pale as the sheets, with a white blanket drawn up to his shoulders. An IV was peaking out from under the blankets, and a bandage was placed over Harry's cut cheek, butterfly stitches on his brow. A vibrant purple bruise was blossoming across his cheek. Each and every mark and bruise felt like a punch to the sternum to Severus, and he soon found himself falling to his knees beside the sleeping man. Shakily, he ran his thin fingers over the bruised cheek bone, tears falling freely from his eyes. His master was injured, sickly, in pain, and he had done nothing to prevent it. His touch caused his master to stir, groaning softly in pain. The noise made Severus's heart clench painfully. He felt like a failure; a wretched, miserable failure. Harry's beautiful, Avada Kadavera green eyes opened sleepily, slowly training on Severus's tear stained face.
"Sev?" He croaked hoarsely, throat sounding dry as he shifted slightly, attempting to get up. Wiping his eyes quickly, Severus pressed Harry softly against the bed once more, watching Harry frown, then cough. He cursed the establishment for not leaving some water by the bedside.
"Hush, Master. Please, rest," Severus begged, voice desperate and tear filled. "Minerva is discussing getting you moved back to Hogwarts soon. They won't let you be home, as there's no nurse then, but they will let you stay in my old rooms. There, I can care for you," He explained softly, wrinkling his nose as he added, "And, Poppy can care you as well, of course."
"Thank... you," Harry mumbled, eyes shutting as Severus squeezed his hand.
"Please don't thank me, Master. I should never have let you go on this mission," Severus sighed solemnly, standing back up to push the hair out of Harry's face. "Do rest for now, everything will be resolved when you awake." Tucking the blankets more firmly around his Master, Severus couldn't help but smile as Harry's eyes shut, brow smoothing as he began to doze once more.

It wasn't enough; nothing was ever enough to satisfy him that his master was safe. He'd placed extra cushioning charms on the bed, temperature regulating spells on every sheet and blanket, replaced the sheets, fluffed the pillows, and replaced even the pillow cases. But still, his elven side was begging him to do more.
"I wish you would wake," Severus whispered, voice solemn and tired. "I can't give you any kind of potion until I know how you're feeling." He often found himself talking to Harry, even when the man was asleep, or listening to music. Simply talking aloud in the man's presence had such a soothing effect, Severus would've believed he had taken a calming draught. It was times like that he wished he had told Harry they were soul mates. A slight stirring beside him drew the elf from his musing, and he kneeled, grimacing as his knees protested. Though his body would last far longer now due to his elven blood, the effects of Voldemort's reign still showed upon him.
"Hmmm..." Harry groaned slightly, eyes fluttering open like a butterfly first spreading its wings. They turned to Severus. At once, the man smiled, and Severus could have swore the room became ten times brighter. "Severus...?" Curiously, the man gazed around the room, taking in the sparsely decorated, dank area. Immediately, Severus felt shame settle in his stomach; He'd been too focused on making Harry feel better, and hadn't thought in the slightest of making the room more suitable for someone such as his Master. "Where are we?"
Severus frowned; he had explained that before taking his Master here. "We are in my old rooms."
"Oh." Harry blinked, sitting up before Severus could stop him, rubbing his eyes with a yawn. He winced, causing fear to jolt through Severus; the elf had seen the damage to Harry's chest and legs caused by spell fire. The man should have been resting. "How long have I been asleep?"
   Too long, Severus thought to himself, before answering, "Roughly twenty five hours, Master. You've been here in these particular rooms for only six of those hours." Nimble fingers pulled the blanket back up to Harry's chin, ignoring the eye-roll his Master sent his way.
"I'm fine, Sev. Stop worrying so much about me. When did you last sleep?" Harry asked, concerned as he lifted a hand, palm against Severus' cheek. Oh, and that feeling that Severus always tried to avoid blossomed in his chest; affection, and a lot of it. His soul-mate's touch was a drug, and he needed to stay away from it. But truly, he did not want to. The man was merely holding Severus' face to take a look at the dark circles under his eyes, but the elf could not help but revel in the attention. "Severus?"
Stirring himself from his stupor, Severus stood straight. "I slept the night before you were admitted to the hospital," He explained, nose wrinkling in distaste at his inability to lie to his Master. Stomach dropping at the look of disapproval on Harry's face, Severus lowered his head.
"Now why would you go and do that? You should have slept." Harry's voice was soft, worried, and caring, which only made the elf's insides twist worse; he'd made his Master worried.
"I wanted to care for you first. I couldn't sleep knowing you were hurt," He explained softly, long ears drooping down like a guilty dog. His face flushed upon seeing this; he hated when they did that. He was decent at keeping his expressions mild, despite his elven instincts, but if he was upset enough, his ears would give him away. Immediately, the hand on his cheek dropped, and his Master fell back against the bed with a groan. The elf shrunk back more, long ears now drooping so much they brushed his shoulders, feeling like he'd throw up as Harry buried his face in his hands.
"I can't stand it when your ears droop like that," The man groaned. "You look so sad, Sev. I'm not mad at you, please don't look so upset," He begged, peeking at the trembling elf through his fingers. Nodding, Snape looked at the ground, not trusting his mouth enough to open it. He hated the way he shook with emotion whenever he believed himself to have made his Master upset. Yet, he couldn't help it. He could never stop the onslaught of shame and grief every time his Master was inconvenienced.
"I-I'm sorry, Master," Severus apologized, horrified at how his voice shook. Swallowing, he looked down at his master in confusion as the man waved him closer. Leaning down, curious as to what his Master would request, for he never ordered, the elf was surprised to find sturdy, warm arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him down. Severus let out a small hiss, throwing out an arm to land on, so he would not crush the smaller body beneath him. "Master!" He chastised roughly. "What are you doing? I could have crushed you!" Severus scowled heavily, forcing down the flush that wanted to spread across his cheeks at the warm way Harry's arms were holding him.
"Just lay down and let me hug you, please," Harry asked softly, rough hand rubbing up and down Severus' back. The elf tried not to shiver at the caress; he was far from used to being touched so kindly, let alone by the person he was destined, and had fallen for. "Your ears are still drooping. You're obviously upset and tired."
"Do not worry for my health, Master, you should be focused on your own recovery," Severus huffed, forcing himself to pull back against the arms despite his extreme lack of will to. He frowned heavily as said arms refused to budge.
"Lay down, Severus, please? I won't have you sleeping on the couch, especially when I know you won't actually sleep. I want you in here where I can keep an eye on you." Severus' slowly nodded, laying down beside his Master, slipping his legs beneath the familiar covers. "Thank you," Harry sighed tiredly. Severus gulped, and nodded. He was sure to scoot away from his Master, making sure that the man had most of the bed to himself; he didn't want to be a burden. It hurt that his Master did not trust him, but he also knew his Master was right. He would not sleep unless his Master directly ordered him to. The elf's heartbeat sped up as he felt Harry roll over, barely a foot away from his bony back. Apparently his Master tilted his head forward, because he could feel Harry's soft hair brush against one of his ridiculously long ears. He doubted he'd find peace in sleep that night.