Snape had never been an early riser, preferring to work late into the night, but he awoke the next morning at an hour even later than the usual. The sun was high in the sky. As he rolled over in bed, he noted that the pain in his chest was still there, but had improved considerably. There was a soft rapping at the door, and it opened a crack.
"Severus?"
"Yes?"
"Do you mind if I come in?"
"As you wish," he said, immediately regretting the haughtiness of his tone.
Abkhazia walked in. She was dressed in a cloak, and she rummaged through her large chest. A quill and parchment followed her hovering in the air, taking notes as she recited the names of various potion ingredients. She turned to him.
"How are you feeling?"
"Much improved, thank you," he said, formally.
"You should stay in bed until at least this evening," she said firmly.
"I –"
"Until this evening. I have to go to Diagon Alley. Now that I know they're using some of these older curses, I really need to brew up some of the antidotes." She walked over to her nightstand, put a hand on his shoulder, and handed him a bound journal entitled "Potion Science Today". "This should give you something to prevent you from climbing the walls. There's some very interesting research coming out of Germany. Plus, there's a piece by a fellow in Lyons on Veritaserum that sounds completely dodgy to me. I'd be interested in your opinion. If you finish that, help yourself to my humble library." She gestured to several shelves of books. "That's the only problem with traveling so much. I can only bring a fraction of my library with me. Anyway, Molly is going to bring you something on a tray. I told her food that's high in iron, so if it's liver, no sulking."
Snape was too taken aback to reply in kind. He changed the subject.
"Does Dumbledore give you a budget? Some of those ingredients are…difficult to come by."
"He funnels a bit of money to me, laundered through Remus. If anyone asks, he rents a room every summer in the cottage my parents left me in Lyme Regis. Cheerio, Severus" She swept out of the room. Snape felt surprisingly bereft. He turned his attention to the journal.
After a surprisingly good meal of beef stew and spinach lentil casserole and a few more hours sleep, Snape felt good enough to dress and leave the bed. He was intrigued by the variety of titles in her small library.
When Abby returned that evening with her purchases in tow, she found him seated at the small desk in her room. He turned as she came in.
"The article on Veritaserum is, as you suggested, completely without foundation. The author probably achieved his results because he failed to include equal numbers of very truthful and very mendacious people in both the control and treatment groups. The standards of the journal seem to be slipping."
"Perhaps a strongly worded letter to the editor?"
"Perhaps," he replied.
Snape had dinner with them that evening, much to the surprise of the other members of the Order. Abby found it to be a less than pleasant meal. Snape's interactions with some of the members of the household were inappropriately hostile, and she found herself reminded of why most people didn't like him. He addressed Sirius Black with barely controlled fury, and his attitude toward the Potter boy seemed inexplicable. Only when he spoke to Remus Lupin or Molly Weasley did his tone even approach civility. The others, he simply ignored.
After dinner, he insisted on returning to his own home. She allowed him, partly because people tend to recover better in their own beds, and partly because she wasn't sure where they would have put him. She had gotten away with giving him her bed in an emergency last night, but tonight, things might have been more awkward.
Over the next few weeks, they saw each other every 5 or 6 days, as they each were in and out, doing Dumbledore's bidding. Abby always felt torn when she saw him. He was cordial, if formal, to her. Whenever their conversations ended, she thought he looked as if he wanted to continue them. She continued to be impressed by the quiet acquiescence with which he undertook increasingly dangerous tasks to gather information at Dumbedore's request and his attention to detail. She also continued to be appalled at his interactions with others. When September arrived, and he was to return to Hogwarts, while she was to go abroad to support a few other members of the Order, she noted, with both amusement at herself and consternation, that she couldn't decide how she felt about him.
On September 3rd, Snape stood up from the long table in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place. He was anxious to leave, but he lingered in the foyer. He had little desire to speak to the others, and would be seeing a few of them from time to time, even during the term. There was one person, however, with whom he particularly wished to speak, although he wasn't sure why. As Abkhazia approached him, he felt his heart skip. He wasn't sure why he was so anxious to speak to her.
"You're headed back to school?"
"Yes, back to overentitled children and their pathetic attempts at scholarship."
"I'm sure they try their best, Severus. You must remember being that age," she said gently. He noted the look in her eyes. He had seen the way her expression changed whenever he interacted with Black or the others. She disapproved of him, like the others. For some reason, though, her disapproval hadn't turned into avoidance. For what reason, he couldn't say.
"All too well. You are to accompany the group going to Croatia?"
"Dealing with dragons is always a bit dangerous. Hopefully, they won't need me."
"They are fortunate to have you." She looked astonished at his words.
"You are heading home to pack, then?"
"Yes," he said. She reached over and hugged him.
"Have a good semester then, Severus. I'll see you when I get back."
Snape was too shocked to say anything. He returned her embrace, and when she broke it, he nodded. He turned and disapparated.
For Snape, the term seemed more onerous than ever. In addition to his teaching duties, there were the clandestine errands for the Dark Lord, and clandestine errands for Dumbldore. He was weary much of the time. At night, though, when he was finally able to obtain a few hours rest, he fell asleep remembering what it had felt like when she had rubbed his back.
He heard little of Abkhazia. He sent her a congratulatory owl when she published a small piece on scorpion venom in "Potion Science Today", and she sent him a brief note of thanks. Dumbledore dropped hints about her progress in Croatia, and a later mission in Albania. Snape thought the old man knew how he felt. He thought about feigning indifference, but the thought of being cut off completely from information about her was too much to bear.
The second day of the Christmas break, Dumbledore sent a house elf to fetch him. He entered the Headmaster's office, to find him looking slightly concerned.
"Miss Wilson is in St. Mungo's" Snape turned a shade paler than usual. "It's rather serious, I'm afraid, Severus. A dragon bite, but it doesn't seem to be healing." Snape was frozen for a minute. "I trust, Severus, that you will be prudent." Snape made no reply as he turned and marched from the office. Had Dumbledore watched him, he would have seen Snape head out of the nearest gate to the road to Hogsmeade, where he apparated to the St. Mungo's lobby.
Snape had known what Dumbledore meant. He knew for a fact that the Dark Lord had spies in St. Mungo's, informants who would mention anything out of the ordinary. Snape didn't want to publicize his connection to Abkhazia too openly. It would be bad for him if the Death Eaters had guessed that she was a member of the Order, but it would be worse for her if the Dark Lord felt that she was a way to get to Snape. The Dark Lord trusted him now, but one never knew when that might change.
He headed to the first floor, where attacks by magical creatures were generally treated. He spoke to the floor nurse.
"I am here to see Miss Wilson, on behalf of Professor Dumbledore. She's a former pupil of his."
"Ah yes, Ward 2. You might catch her awake, but there's no telling." Snape willed himself to walk slowly. He spotted her at the end of a row of beds that was about one third full. She looked very pale against the sheets, her dark hair surrounding her. Her eyes were closed, and she wore a sleeveless gown to avoid interfering with the enormous bandage on her shoulder. She opened her eyes, with a slightly dazed expression on her face.
"Severus?"
He looked around. The nearest patient was several beds away.
"Can you tell me what happened?" he said, echoing her words to him of several months ago.
"We were attacked by dragons. Surprising really, since we had enchanted so many other groups of them. Dumbledore wanted to make sure that they couldn't be used against the Order. I was the only one bitten. Funny, since they usually use fire. I treated a few burns on the Croatia mission. It wouldn't be that bad, if only it would heal." She shut her eyes.
"I will examine it." Snape tried to be as gentle as possible when he undid her bandages. The wound was red, raw, and looked as if she had sustained it yesterday. Obviously, the dragon had been cursed. Of course, there were ways of neutralizing the power of the dragon. Specialized ingredients were required. He refastened her bandages, and walked up the aisle to the nurse's station again.
"Is she asleep?"
"On and off. Fascinating injury. Has anyone suggested a Prehistoric Poultice?" The nurse laughed
"Aren't those old wives' tales? You'd never catch a healer here using one."
"I've been told my sense of humor can be odd," said Snape, forcing a smile. There was no way she'd get the right treatment in here with these hidebound incompetents. He returned to her bedside. Her eyes were still shut. He glanced around and took her hand.
"Abkhazia – Abby," he whispered in her ear, "I think I know how to treat this, but we must be discreet, and I can't do it here. I will come back, late tonight. I need the exact address of your parents' house in Lyme." She opened her eyes groggily, and whispered it back to him. He squeezed her hand. He sat up and spoke loudly. "Well, Miss Wilson, Professor Dumbledore asked me to convey wishes for a speedy recovery from him and from all of the Hogwarts faculty. I will disturb your rest no further." He returned to the lobby.
It was a busy evening. Back to Hogwarts for some ingredients, and then to her parents' house in Lyme. When he apparated, he landed in the living room. Despite the dust coverings, the room was cheery, with seascape paintings on light colored walls and comfortable furniture. One wall was covered with bookshelves. Snape began examining the, but then caught himself. He set his cauldron in the kitchen. It was December and after dark, so he took the risk of apparating on the beach itself.
Lyme was located on the Jurassic Coast, a part of the English shore known for its fossils. Severus walked over tone of the cliffs and began chiseling. To neutralize the power of the dragon, he needed organic matter that predated dragons. Just a bit would do. He soon had what he needed, and he returned to the cozy house.
He added the ingredients to his cauldron, and set the potion to stew. Whisking his wand, he removed the coverings from the furniture in the lounge. He went upstairs. He found a larger bedroom, and removed the dust coverings from the furniture in there as well. He noticed a smaller bedroom down the hall. As he entered it, he knew at once it had been Abkhazia's. A Ravenclaw hat and scarf hung from the bedpost. Pictures of a much younger Abkhazia with her friends on the Gobstones team grinned back at him. She raised her eyebrows mischievously.
A clock struck 2 a.m. It was time. Severus apparated into Abby's ward. The patients were asleep. The charge nurse dozed at her desk. He went to Abby's bedside. He gently tapped her good shoulder. She stirred and opened her eyes. He put a finger to his lips. He leaned over and lifted her into his arms.
"Brace yourself," he said. They reappeared in the living room of the house at Lyme. Snape looked down at Abby. She was smiling, but quite pale.
"It's good to be back here." He set her gently on the sofa. She moaned slightly.
"Apparation is quite difficult when one is not in good health. Do you need something for the pain?" She shook her head. He went to the kitchen, removed the thick potion from his cauldron and let it cool. He then carried a bowl of it to the living room. "I have the remedy here – a Prehistoric Poultice."
"I didn't even think of that," she said, hazily.
"That is the job of the healers at St. Mungo's, another institution whose standards are slipping," he said, seating himself next to her on the sofa.
"Severus, it's not a crime to be less intelligent than you are. If it were, we'd all be in Azkaban, and you'd have no one to complain about." He marveled at her ability to pay him a compliment and reprove him all at once.
"I must remove your bandages." When he had unwound them sufficiently, he spread the poultice on the wound. He tried not to be too rough, but she winced throughout the procedure. He couldn't help but admire her bravery. Half the Death Eaters would have been screaming at this point. He replaced the dressing with a fresh one.
Abby was surprised at how gentle he was, and that he had built a fire and removed the dust coverings before she had arrived. Perhaps if he hadn't become a Death Eater, he would have been a healer. Of course there might have been bedside manner issues. She heard him murmuring "Wingardium Leviosa", as he levitated her up the stairs and into her parents' old room. When he had set her lightly on the bed, whose linens he had turned back, she looked around.
"This is my parents' old room."
"I selected the largest. If you need me to move you…"
"No, thank you , Severus, I like being here. There are many happy memories." He pulled the covers over her. She wondered whether he was simply paying her back for her actions the previous summer. He waved his wand again, and a flask appeared in his hand.
"At St. Mungo's, they were probably giving you something for the pain. You should drink this." He handed her the flask, and helped her to sit up to drink its contents. He set the flask on the nightstand, and she leaned back. She saw him looking at her with uncertainty. Perhaps she would have to nudge him a bit.
"Thank you , Severus."
"No thanks are necessary,"
"They are, and I am going to ask you to indulge me further. Sit with me a while, and tell me what's been going on." Snape hesitantly sat on the other side of the bed. "Why don't you put your feet up? It looks like it's been a long day." He swung around so that he was lying next to her. She locked her arm through his, and leaned her ahead against his shoulder. He stiffened, and then relaxed, just as he had when she had touched him last fall. The last thing she heard as she drifted off was his quiet discussion of Dolores Umbridge, Dumbledore, and the Ministry.
