Darkness Comes in a Pink Package
The short, huddled form shuffled down the deserted hallway, not seeing the long, dark shadow following close behind.
Severus Snape allowed his lips to curl back in a ghoulish grin as he prepared to swoop on the first year student, who was obviously unaware that she was not alone. But, just as he was about to clear his throat loudly to announce his presence and enjoy the look of pure horror that was sure to be on her face, the student took a big stuttering breath and collapsed onto her knee with a gasp of pain, cradling her arm.
Immediately, he ran to her, his mind racing with possibilities- she was so tiny, a child really. What if her housemates had given her a cursed object or cast a spell on her? What if she'd had a bad reaction to one of Zonko's novelty products? Plenty of muggleborn students found their way to the Infirmary the first few months for all of these reasons and more.
"Can you speak?" he asked, his voice as flat as he could make it. He did not wish to be known for being overemotional, for students could smell fear like wolves, yet he still had to know.
"It...it's..." the girl pulled her sleeve back with a shaking hand and Severus saw red, literally.
Long, red incisions curled up her wrist and forearm, and as she pulled her sleeve up to her shoulder with a choked sob, he could see where they disappeared into her robes.
"How did this happen?" He could not help the edge in his voice.
The girl looked up with brown, tearful eyes and shook her head, unable to speak. She was only a child, with scrawny arms, a dusting of freckles across her nose, and dark hair pulled back in a disheveled ponytail.
"Let me see," he asked, his voice growing gentle as he turned her arm over and examined it in the flickering torchlight.
It was then that he realized that the wounds were...words.
Severus knew what sort of item would do this. He also knew that it was the sort of implement that only old, pure blooded families would have. When he realized what the words said, he found himself clenching one fist tightly at his side.
Umbridge.
Of course, that would be why he would not have known that a student was serving detention that night. The other professors would know to leave a note in the staff room, but that damned pink menace thought that she was above all of that. She didn't respect the rules unless they served her, and Severus found himself filled with revulsion at the sickly sweet way she always grinned when she knew she had gotten her way. He knew she was probably grinning fit to burst in her quarters, those damnable cat plates gamboling silently behind her.
"You don't have to strain yourself. Here." Severus pulled out his wand, which made the girl flinch and he mentally berated himself.
Of course. He was the feared Potions professor. He never showed his wand in class except to tap the board to make the day's lesson appear, and many of the students assumed that he was a Dark Wizard.
"I'm going to conjure up a stretcher and tend to your wounds. They are serious and you should not be moved too far," he said slowly, keeping himself as still as he could.
She nodded weakly and he did as he'd said, moving the stretcher to the floor next to her.
"Can you get onto it yourself, or do you require assistance?" He stood back, giving her space to choose.
"I...I can do it," she sniffed, scooting onto it clumsily.
"There will be a bit of a jolt as I levitate it, but I shall go slowly. I shall take you to the Potions storeroom first because the salve you need is not kept in the Infirmary on a regular basis, but afterwards, I will take you to see Madam Pomfrey for observation."
He tried to be businesslike and cold. He did not want her to know how furious he felt on her behalf. Children should not be treated in this manner, especially not first year students! Sure, he had assigned students to scrub toilets and pick up thestral dung, but none of it was designed to be serious or cause permanent scarring.
He walked silently, levitating the stretcher next to him. The girl lay quietly, her chest shaking slightly as she breathed. He knew that magical bloodletting pens were only customarily used for two things in pure blooded families- to sign the at the bottom of binding contracts and Dark rituals. The most common of these rituals were the blood wards that protected old pureblood family homes, and usually required the services of a professional Bloodletter to properly set them.
"It will sting, but I have a numbing cream that I will place on top of it. These are deep wounds, and you are being very brave. Do not move. I will be back momentarily," he said, leaving the stretcher hovering a couple of feet in the air next to the desk in his office as he walked over to the storeroom.
The girl sniffed again. "I can be brave. I'm Gryffindor after all."
His back was to her, but he still had to stifle a snicker with his hand. He'd let the girl hold onto her delusion for a little longer. He knew from experience that it was often useful to hold onto a sense of hope while in pain, even if it was all just a lie in the end.
He made short work of gathering the materials he needed.
"Place your arm out," he said sternly, and the girl did as he'd asked, even though she still winced and grit her teeth tightly at the obvious pain of her efforts.
He started by rubbing in the salve, which neutralized the dark magic in the wounds. It would also prevent permanent scarring. Luckily, once it was deep in her wounds, it began to move on its own up her forearm and disappeared up past her shoulder. They had already faded from an angry red to a pale pink color. Then, he administered the numbing cream, which made the girl nearly go limp with relief.
"I shall allow Madam Pomfrey to check your...additional wounds," he said, knowing that there was no way that he was going to disrobe a female student in his office. "I will, however, bandage your arm to help keep the numbing salve from rubbing off."
He made quick work of wrapping the wound, as he'd had many opportunities to practice on himself in the past, then pulled out his wand again to move her stretcher. He noticed that this time, she just looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of awe...and respect.
He turned away, pretending he hadn't noticed.
But he had.
Madam Pomfrey had made quite a display when he dropped off the student, along with a large phial of the cream.
The girl finally told them both why she'd given him detention. Apparently, she'd pronounced her name incorrectly, and Umbridge had...well...taken umbrage.
"I will make sure to brew more, as that harridan is sure to be sending students to detention for absurd reasons all year long," Severus said, looking at the bed where the student, a Melissa Stephens who was indeed a first year Gryffindor, lay. Her eyes were closed, but he knew she wasn't sleeping as Madam Pomfrey closed the privacy curtain.
"Poor dear, she didn't deserve such a terrible experience," Madam Pomfrey tutted. "It's a good thing that you were there to save her, Severus."
"Saving is a bit of an overstatement, Poppy," Severus said, deadpan, "I merely happened to see her in the hall and noticed that she was injured. No more, no less."
The Mediwitch rolled her eyes as she walked him back to the entrance of the Infirmary.
"I saw how she looked at you, Severus. As far as she's concerned, you saved her life."
"Hardly," Severus replied, rolling his eyes as well. "However, I do find it disturbing what this Umbridge woman is doing to students, especially mere children like that."
"It's true," Madam Pomfrey nibbled on her thumb and frowned, "After all, that girl there is young enough to be your daughter."
Severus stopped mid-step and looked at the Mediwitch with an arched eyebrow.
"Well, she's someone's daughter!" Poppy replied huffily. "I shall be sure to send an owl first thing in the morning to inform her parents."
"Do me a favor and leave my name out of it. I've had enough good publicity. If anyone found out that I have a heart, it would destroy the Wizarding World as we know it." Severus turned, raised his hand in a slight wave, and began his journey down the stairs back to the dungeons again.
He could hear the Mediwitch chuckling as she closed the door, but he pretended not to notice. After all, a man had to keep at least some of his dignity intact.
But, as he walked on his own into the darkness of the dungeons, his mind began to turn over the problem that was Dolores Umbridge and he scowled at the thoughts that began to fill his head. He knew he wouldn't be sleeping much for the rest of the week. There was no time for such luxuries. It was time to do research and prepare.
Darkness was coming, and it wore a damnable pink bow.