Illusions

Chapter: 1/?

Author: EzraDavencroft

Rating: T for violence, gore, and general unpleasantness. But it gets better.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything contained in the series. I DO own this story, despite not owning the characters, and it is an original work. No profit is made by this story, and no disrespect is intended to Rita Ske… Erm… J.K. Rowling.

A/N: I've fixed the whole transfusion thing, I think. I'm sorry if the repost has erased any reviews.

Severus waited in the darkness of the Shrieking Shack. He had felt his own heart stop beating, and yet he was aware. He could only hope that the memories he had left Potter would make the boy feel a duty to see that his body would be recovered. He could only hope that the fingers he had pressed to his gushing neck would not become his death sentence, rather than the life-saving tool they had been intended to be. So he waited and hoped, and tried to send the message to Potter, mentally, that his body needed to be brought back to Hogwarts. He was not disappointed.

He didn't know how long his body sat in the shack before faint light appeared in the room. He had come. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley made their way slowly and cautiously towards his lifeless body. As the dark-haired boy, now a man, knelt over him, Severus was surprised to see unshed tears fighting to be let free from his eyes. The hero gently scooped Severus into his arms and whispered, "I'm sorry." Severus could not turn his head, or move his eyes to be sure, but he felt arms around him, pulling him away from Potter, and he knew they must belong to Weasley. The boys, 'men,' Severus corrected himself silently, 'after seeing this carnage, they will never be boys again,' picked him up and carried him up and out of the shack.

As they walked out of Hosmeade village and onto the road to Hogwarts, Severus heard Weasley say quietly, "Should we bury him somewhere along here, Harry?"

'NO!' Severus shouted in his own mind, but it was unnecessary, as Potter replied to Weasley, "No. He was a hero just like the others, just like us, and he'll be recognized for it. We're taking him back to Hogwarts. He deserves to have everyone know what he did for our side. He couldn't have it in life, but I'll be damned if we're just going to bury him and his story like his sacrifices didn't matter!" Weasley was silent. In his mind, Severus could picture him nodding solemnly. Potter had earned a bit more respect from Severus with the small speech, even though he knew the man had said it thinking, falsely, that Severus had been in love with his mother, Lily.

When they reached the Great Hall, Severus could hear the gasps that must have been made in response to the horrid wounds on his neck. No one rushed to mourn him. No one burst into tears at the sight of his body. No one cried, "Oh Severus!" He hadn't expected it. Nor had he expected Longbottom coming to help Potter and Weasley carry him to a resting place. Severus could see that battle had changed him. He gleaned that just by the man's posture before he went out of Severus' line of vision, for his eyes were still open. When they laid him down, Longbottom lowered Severus' eyelids gently and whispered, "The snake is dead. I killed it. Not afraid anymore professor. Thanks for that."

People started filing by him, whispering things into his ears. He recognized a few voices.

Minerva. "You weren't a pleasant child, or man, but you were brilliant. Thanks for the biscuits and whiskey."

Granger. "Thanks for saving Harry and Ron and me so much, even if we didn't know or appreciate it at the time."

Poppy. "Oh Severus, you never could stay out of trouble. If I had a galleon for every trip you made to my infirmary…"

And so on. Finally, the man Severus had hoped would come to pay his respects, did. He waited for the moment when he would realize that something was off, for Horace Slughorn was not a stupid man. He would surely recognize…

Slughorn leaned down to tell Severus' corpse one last secret. There was a gasp.

"Clever," Slughorn whispered, and his voice started to raise, "Clever boy, Severus! You always were top of the class!"

Minerva seemed to think that he was getting overly emotional, and Severus could hear her nearby.

"Horace," She said quietly, "He will be missed by many of us…"

"No he won't," Shouted Slughorn, "because he's alive!"

Silence fell over the Hall. Severus knew what everyone was thinking: That Horace Slughorn had gone mad with grief. They thought that he was in denial. Severus was terrified, in that moment, that his hope was lost, and they would ignore Slughorn, ushering him off to a quiet room where the man could grieve and go insane away from them. As usual, his salvation came in the form of a scrawny man with unkempt black hair. He heard Potter's voice ring out clear in the silence of the hall.

"What do you mean? I saw him die. I saw…"

But Slughorn interrupted him. "No! You thought you saw, Mr. Potter! That's the genius of it!"

"The genius of what," asked Weasley, speaking up finally. Severus knew he was saved by Slughorn's next words.

"The Draught of Living Death. I smelled it just now, when I leaned down. His wounds reek of it."

"But I saw what happened!" Potter said. "He didn't have time to drink anything! He didn't… I saw…"

"What happened when the snake bit him Potter?"

"What do you mean what happened? He died!"

"His hands Potter! Where were his hands?" Severus could imagine the look on Harry's face.

"His neck, he was holding his neck."

"Of course he was! That must be why his wounds smell so strongly of it. He had the potion on his hands!" Severus inwardly shouted, 'YES!'

"But even if that is true," Weasley butted in again, "how do we wake him? And how do we heal those bites? That snake bit my dad on the leg and it almost killed him, and here I think it nicked an artery in his neck, and there's no way to heal it in an instant, there's some kind of venom. The healers at St. Mungo's said dad's bite had to heal naturally."

"The antidote," said Slughorn, "fortunately takes less time to make than is necessary for the subject to succumb to death. I can make it in less than twelve hours. The wounds, I'm afraid, I have no answer for. If St Mungo's couldn't heal it, I certainly can't think of"

"St. Mungo's is conventional," said a quiet voice, "They always try a potion or a spell. They can never see that some things are simpler than concoctions and incantations."

"Neville?" Said Potter, uncertain what the boy was headed for.

"I have a plant in the Room of Requirement that draws out most venoms and topical poisons. Nobody uses it raw anymore. They chop it up and use it in potions, but never use the raw power of it. A simple solution to a complex problem. How many St. Mungo's patients could have been saved with something simple?" Severus knew he was thinking of his parents.

"And this plant could save him? You know how to use it?" Potter asked him.

"Yes. I can draw out the venom, and then the wounds could be healed. We should do it while he's still under the Draught of Living Death, but there's some chance that the Orngula leaf will draw out the Draught as well as the venom. Madame Pomfrey, can you heal him?" Severus could hear the hesitation in her voice.

"Yes, I think so. But he's obviously lost so much blood… I can't guarantee that he won't bleed to death."

"Transfusions." Someone said, and Severus was never happier to hear a muggle suggestion. He listened as Dean Thomas explained blood transfusions to Madame Pomfrey. He couldn't see anything, as his eyes were still closed, but he could still feel the needle pierce his skin as they started the first transfusion.

Dean Thomas had volunteered, as he claimed to know that most people had his blood type. As well as casting a spell that would create enough pressure in his veins to help his body accept the donor blood, Hermione Granger had made sure they were compatible types by waving a wand over them. Severus thought that their blood types must have been lit up in the air above him, but Ms. Granger also said that she had included a spell to detect blood borne diseases, and if you were incompatible or had some kind of disease that was transmitted by blood, an alarm would sound. If you matched, and were disease-free, a wind chime sounded. Severus admired her calm and sense of privacy, even in an emergency blood drive.

The second person to volunteer, Seamus Finnigan, got an alarm. Dean joked about him having syphilis until Seamus said loudly, "Well if I've got it you do too!" Severus wished that his eyes had been open to witness the outing he had predicted since they were fifteen, but alas…

Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood, Minerva McGonagall, and Ginny Weasley all got wind chimes and stepped forward to get stuck with a clean needle. Several people had gotten an alarm, including George Weasley, who nobody made syphilis jokes about because his dear twin had just died. When they decided they had enough borrowed blood in him, Potter sent Longbottom for the plant.

There was a slicing sound, and then an odd sucking squelch and then it was on him. His neck didn't hurt, surprisingly, it tingled, but it didn't sting or anything. Twenty seconds of tingling, and then… Pain. Mind-numbing pain in his neck and shoulder and his eyes snapped open, and he screamed out at the top of his lungs, and blood splattered Longbottom from the wound. He couldn't tell if people were gasping or screaming or silent in the Great Hall, all he could hear was his own voice, screaming horribly.

Longbottom quickly switched the black leaf with its withered little tube-feet for a new, pearly pink one. He had one hand pressed to Snape's neck, and one holding the leaf. He grasped the knife in his teeth and sliced the leaf down the center vein, releasing hundreds of tiny pink tube-feet, sucking air. He slapped it to Snape's wound and the tingle was still there, but it was drowning under the pain. Severus was still screaming. He couldn't stop. And Madame Pomfrey was yelling for Neville to let her heal the wound, and Neville was shouting that the first leaf had taken the Draught, but the venom was still there, and to let the plant do what it was grown for. Seconds, moments, or hours later, Severus couldn't tell, Longbottom called for Madame Pomfrey to heal the wound as quickly as she could.

There was another squelching sound, and then the pressure on his neck was gone and he could feel the blood spurting out in time with his heartbeat, and then heat, and then numbness. His scream cut off abruptly, and he heard a collective intake of breath. They were wondering if he was dead, he knew, but he could not even grunt a sign of life. He was exhausted, cold, thirsty, and vaguely hungry. He felt a soft hand on his throat, and Longbottom's voice said, "There's a pulse!" And all went black.

A/N: I have no idea about how a blood transfusion would work on a corpse. If any med students or doctors want to let me know, feel free. Otherwise, please don't comment just to say that you don't think it would have worked. Cheers! EZ