Saving Severus

by Aurinko

Summary: After the last battle, Severus Snape is renowned as a hero, but the man at St. Mungo's has no concept of fame—no concept of anything. Severus's mind has been destroyed in Voldemort's last act of revenge on the traitor who brought about his downfall. Albus Dumbledore seizes the opportunity to save the young man he sees as his son, even if his wife isn't very happy about his decision. This time, however, it isn't the Dark Lord or even the Ministry he must fight--it's Severus himself.

"Thus Hell is not only a specific place but a moral and an anagogical allegory of the guilty conscience of the damned. It is the projection into a physical reality of the inner state of the damned...Hell exists from within."

(from the introduction to John Cidari's 1954 tranlsation of Dante's The Inferno, page xiv)

Rating: M

Category: Angst/Drama

Chapter One: The White Room

Albus Dumbledore moved through the halls of St. Mungo's slowly, mindlessly following his feet. He had long ago memorized the path he now followed and could trace its steps by heart. He was mildly surprised to see the cleaning cart in the hallway;his dreams did not bother with such mundane necessities.

The receptionist at the desk nodded congenially at him as he passed, not quite able to disguise the pity in her limpid brown eyes. Albus ignored her completely, drawing an indignant huff as he strode past, eyes straight ahead. He no longer cared. He was used to the pity and the confusion, the insensitive, inane questions from people who simply did not understand.

He paused just before yet another plain, unmarked door—a janitor's closet, for all the outside world knew. It was, Albus thought with a pang, exactly how Severus would have wanted it.

Swallowing, Albus pushed open the door and closed it firmly behind him, refusing to move until it clicked shut. Closing his eyes briefly in a private moment of weakness, he took a deep breath. Plastering a pleasant smile on his face, Albus stepped forward, pulled back the single metal chair in the room, and sat down.

"Good morning, Severus," he said cheerfully. "How was your night?"

The figure on the bed gave no reply, though his dark eyes remained wide open.

Albus, however, paused for a moment as if listening for an answer. "Yes, I'm sure your night was much better than mine," he said sadly. "Minerva's worried about me." He paused again and then laughed a little. "Yes, more so than usual. She doesn't worry all the time." Albus smiled wryly. "Well, not as intensely all the time. This is worse than when you're late coming home because usually I'm around to distract her, but this time I'm the one causing the distraction."

Another short silence fell in the white room. "Yes, you're probably right. She can't rationalize the situation, and although you've often returned late from your…meetings safely, you've never…" Albus's blue eyes darkened suddenly, his hand tightening over Severus's limp one and he choked. "You've never been trapped in your own mind and come back before, Severus."

There was a short, tense silence in the room as Albus Dumbledore struggled with something far greater than himself.

Then, in the solemn silence that followed, he admitted the truth to both himself and the man he considered his son.

"No one has."

A/N: Reviews are greatly appreciated!