A Promise to be Better 3
Author: Raven Dancer
disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling except for the Drs. Barnes and Beryl. I receive no monetary compensation for these works.
Summary: Dumbledore discovers changing Snape will require changing staff attitudes as well. Aftermath of a Death Eater's gathering.
Returning to the castle an hour later found an early dinner being served in the great hall. There were quite a few staff members inside but Snape slipped past the door.
"Go ahead, Albus," he murmured, "go relax. I'll go upstairs and read awhile. I'm really not hungry." Before Dumbledore could reply the wizard was away from him and Flitwick was beckoning him to the table. He stood torn, wanting to continue to support Snape but also wanting to be with people not so conflicted. He turned into the hall and went to the staff table.
"Ah, good Albus!," said Flitwick jovially, "come have some fun for awhile."
"Yes, you've been stuck with Severus all day," said Mcgonagall, "you deserve a break for charitable works." A few chuckles rose from the table. Dumbledore's face turned as sour as the Potions Master's could.
"I wasn't stuck with Severus," he asserted.
"Oh, no," laughed Sinistra, "you have to maintain your friendship," she drawled the word in a mocking tone.
Another round of chuckles and laughter. He made to speak again and then realized what Snape had been going through. No matter what he said they'd never accept it, somehow twist it into a joke. Dumbledore just shook his head sadly, turned and walked back out of the great hall. A few staff half-heartedly called for him to return, but he paid them no attention.
He was surprised to find Snape really did return to his study, but he was not reading. He was curled tightly up on the couch, covered, including his head by the soft blanket that normally was over the back of the couch. The wizard really thought Dumbledore was going to stay downstairs and had given himself over to his depression.
"Severus?" he said quietly, touching Snape's shoulder. No answer, absolute stillness.
"You can't possibly be able to breath well under all that," Dumbledore continued, now running his hand over the stiff back. Still no answer. He didn't know quite what to do, but he was certain he couldn't leave him to suffocate.
"At least uncover your face so you can breathe, Severus," he tugged gently at the blanket.
"No, I can breathe just fine," the younger man managed with only a little tremor. He must have been crying. The Headmaster stared at the figure as it pulled the cover tighter about him.
"Severus, please, come out," he shifted his arms around Snape's back and lay his head against his shoulder listening.
"No," was the only reply he got. So he did the only other thing he could think of (since leaving never crossed his mind). He levitated the Potions Master up off the couch and relocated him fully on his lap, holding him close and waiting patiently. It didn't take too long, it was rather difficult to breathe. Snape's face appeared a bit blotchy.
"Thought I'd have a bit to feel good and sorry about myself," Snape groused. Dumbledore shifted slightly so the Potions Master rested more fully against his shoulder.
"Eh, didn't like what they were serving downstairs," the older man said. He gently pushed the blanket away from Snape's face and smoothed the hair back. He really was going to break one way or another. Snape leaned into the touch slightly, then simply put his face into his mentor's beard and neck, trying not to cry anymore.
"I'm a mess," he said quietly.
"Yes, you are. But at least we've found some ways to help clean you up. I'll bet Barnes will have a few more ways," Dumbledore said encouragingly. They sat together for awhile, Snape calmed down. It pleased the older man when he felt the tension drain from his companion's body and he finally relaxed. He would have sat holding Snape longer, but a stomach started growling.
"Oh hush," Snape grumbled. Dumbledore chuckled.
"I think your stomach requires tending. I know mine does," he said. Snape gave a small smile.
"It wants more food. I fed it today!" he complained.
Dumbledore hugged him, brushing his lips over his forehead. "Come, child, let's see what we can get for that stomach of yours."
Snape's eyes dissolved into shyness, he looked so much younger. Perhaps that was one way to help him through these times, more of a father to his child.
In the end it was fortunate they had moved to the table to eat. McGonagall and Sprout came up to discuss 'house business' with Dumbledore. They were surprised to see Snape, but did not ask any questions as Snape moved out of the room and into the bedroom, leaving dinner behind.
"We didn't mean for you to miss dinner, Albus. We were only joking a bit," McGonagall said quietly. But Dumbledore waved away her comment and the food as though it was beneath his consideration.
"What problems are you having Minerva? How can I be of assistance?" he leaned forward the picture of concern. Both women squirmed uneasily.
"Well, the students have calmed down this week, after last week's upsets," Sprout began tentatively.
"Though I'm still concerned about Longbottom," McGonagall added.
"What seems to be the difficulty?" Dumbledore pursued in somewhat concerned tones.
"His fear of Professor Snape. Although he didn't seem quite so fragile this morning," the witch admitted truthfully.
"I believe Professor Snape is working to help Neville learn potions brewing. He enlisted Miss Granger's expertise in working with the young man. I think they've reached a temporary agreement," Dumbledore brushed that problem aside as inconsequential.
"Yes, I see that they have. But honestly, Albus," McGonagall looked at him carefully, "just how long is the charade going to last? Snape will snap, it's just a matter of time."
"Professor Snape, at my personal request, is trying to be less antagonistic towards the students and behave in a respectful manner with staff and students alike. He has made good strides this week although some people," here he stopped to look at both women very firmly, "will not let him try. There has been some very unkind things said disguised as teasing. If Professor Snape is to make˝ any lasting changes it will be with the understanding and respect from his colleagues. The students will test him, of that we are both certain. I expect his colleagues to be much more supportive through this transition," he continued to stare, challenging them to respond.
"Of course we'll stand by Severus," Sprout replied. "We'll be sure to support him, Albus," continued McGonagall. They stayed discussing class assignments and changing a few students around. Satisfied, both witches left.
Dumbledore called Dobby and requested a fresh meal then went into the bedroom to call Snape out.
He wasn't there. Not on the bed, not in the washroom, not anywhere. The window was open, the only indication Snape had left. Wasting no time he sent for Beryl and Dobby.
"Search the castle and grounds for Professor Snape and tell him I'd like to see him. If he won't come, tell me," the Headmaster directed. As the house elves scampered off he didn't know which he wanted: that Snape had wandered off depressed or that Voldemort had called him.
Nearly an hour dragged by when Dobby returned. The house elf was dejected.
"No Professor Snape. Not in castle. Not on grounds. Asked other elves. No Professor Snape. Watcher says Wizard go into Forbidden Forest on broom," he reported.
"The watcher?" Dumbledore queried.
"House Elves watch the grounds, Headmaster. We watches for Headmaster Dumbledore," he bowed low again.
Dumbledore was touched, and impressed, that the house elves had organized to watch the school for him.
"Thank you, Dobby. Tell the Watchers I thank them also. When Professor Snape returns send him to me. If he won't come, then tell me where he goes. I need to speak with him, Dobby," the Headmaster impressed the elf.
"Dobby and Beryl will tell the Watchers. Dobby and Beryl will watch, too, Headmaster," and the small creature bowed, leaving the room.
"Where did you go, Severus?" Dumbledore mused allowed peering out the window into the gloom.
Something brushed against his face. Dumbledore swatted it away. Again, a light brushing, as if a fly were deciding to land on his cheek. He pushed at it and rolled over. Damn thing was persistent, shaking his shoulder. Stupid fly.
He stopped in mid-swat. Shaking his shoulder? Slowly turning over he opened his eyes. Directly into a scrunched-up elf face.
"Dobby?" he asked sleepily. The elf looked intently into his face.
"Headmaster? Sir?" he queried in turn.
"Yes, Dobby. I'm awake," and the Headmaster pushed up, swinging his legs out of bed. A small clock glowed on the bed stand : 4:35 am.
"Is Professor Snape back, Dobby?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.
"Professor Snape is back. Professor Snape smells like fire. Smells like smoke. Very dirty. Professor Snape is in the loo. Professor Snape said he must shower, Headmaster," Dobby quickly bounced back off the bed. Dumbledore stretched, scratching his head.
"Which loo, Dobby?" he asked.
"The Headmaster's washroom," he replied.
"Thank you, Dobby, for watching for Professor Snape," Dumbledore began.
"Does the Headmaster wants tea? Does the Headmaster wants food for Professor Snape?" Dobby barreled ahead. Standing, he pulled on his robe and started to the dresser for clean clothing.
"Yes, Dobby, I'm sure Professor Snape would like that," he told the elf as he took out leggings and a shirt. He sent Dobby into the washroom with the clothing and then the elf rocketed off to the kitchens. Dumbledore turned on some lights and took a chair somewhat facing the washroom door and waited.
After awhile the door opened and a shirtless Snape walked slowly out. He carried a towel and the sleep shirt.
"Headmaster, sorry to have disturbed you," Snape said very quietly.
"You didn't, Severus. I asked you to come here," he said with concern. Snape did not look good.
"I need to contact Dr. Barnes," the younger man continued as he walked slowly across the room to the table. He sat in a chair, but did not sit back. Instead he cushioned his head on his arms.
"I hurt my back a little," he admitted. Dumbledore stood up and waved on all the lights, moving over he looked at the torn and burned shoulder.
"Oh my lord," the older man very gently moved his hand over the damage, sending healing energy down to relieve some of the pain he knew Snape was in. He briefly wondered how he could have showered. Then he noticed the burn was mostly blisters, not charred and the tearing wasn't too deep. The pain was worse than the actual damage.
"Didn't seem too bad, Albus, just hurts like hell," Snape muttered from his arms.
"I'll send word to Jeffrey and get some pain potion for you," Dumbledore told him, moving to the computer that sat across the room. Arthur Weasley in his mania for all things muggle had worked out internet connections for Hogsmeade. A terminal had been installed in the Headmaster's office early in the summer. It proved to be a valuable tool.
He typed fast hitting the send key then moved to his cupboards where he had his potions. As he selected one to create a poultice and another to pour into juice he realized most of his stash had been prepared, brewed and bottled by the Potions Master. He gathered clean cob webbing, cup and straw and went back across to the table.
Dobby and Beryl had just set out food, tea and juice without disturbing Snape. Dumbledore smiled his thanks and sent them away. Looking down at the hurt wizard he wondered if he'd fallen asleep.
"Albus?" the strained voice called.
"I'm here, child," he placed a comforting hand on Snape's head, stoking softly.
"I'm going to put some burn potion on your shoulder. Then I'll fix you a nice cup of juice," he poured the burn potion into an empty soup bowl and dipped the webbing in. He didn't squeeze it out fully, putting it carefully onto the worst of the burning. Snape breathed deeply in and out in relief.
"Thank you," he whispered.
Dumbledore spoke quietly as he moved about the wizard, pouring out juice and mixing the powders into the cup. He set it aside and then began to wrap gauze around Snape's chest to lightly secure the poultice. His patient struggled up to allow better access to the wounded area.
"Now drink this, Severus," he held the straw to the man's lips and watched patiently as the liquid slowly moved up the straw. Snape made a slight face as he finished it off.
"Remind me to show you how to sweeten this stuff for next time," he said shaking his head. Dumbledore chuckled.
"Do you want to eat something?" he asked.
"I don't think I could," Snape admitted, "I'll just rest here. I don't think I can lie down," and he started to slowly move back to the table top.
"Half a moment. I can make you comfortable," Dumbledore pulled the chair back and levitated Snape up and out. He moved him slowly to the lounge and sat down first, Snape was lowered on top of him, curled so his wounded shoulder was up, the other snugged into the Headmaster's side and lounge. A blanket was levitated over them, covering Snape very carefully so as not to jar the poultice. Now Dumbledore could freely comfort the Potions Master and help him rest. Snape was surprised, but too exhausted to fight the arrangement.
"Sleep, Severus. I'll watch over you," he brushed hair out of Snape's face and away from the hurt shoulder. He hummed gently, a simple lullaby as he wove a sleeping charm around and through his friend. Snape moved his hand slightly; Dumbledore reached down to touch and found instead the wizard grasped his hand, holding on tight. Eyes fluttered, then closed. Breathing eased out as the pain reliever kicked in. Dumbledore moved carefully, putting his free hand up on the good shoulder and neck where he could continue to stroke cheek and head if needs be. Snape was asleep.
They lay on the lounge together, the sun slowly rose and filled the room with it's comforting light. One slept, the other dozed. A knock at the door roused the elder and he motioned with his free hand to open it.
"Hello? Headmaster?" Dr. Barnes moved through the door carrying his bag. He had brought potions for burns as well as pain relievers.
"Here, Jeffrey, on the lounge," Dumbledore called. Barnes came over, setting bag and cloak on the couch as he got his first view of his patient. He snagged a chair from the table and sat next to them.
"Burn poultice?" he moved a hand over the shoulder sampling the air then pulled back the blanket.
"Yes. Some pain powder around five this morning," the Headmaster replied.
"Ok, I'm just going to cut it off so I can see. Do you want to move?" the Healer asked, reaching for his bag.
"I'm fine here for now. Unless you need him on the bed or table top," Dumbledore replied. Barnes shook his head negatively and began to cut gauze, lifting off the spider webbing. He impassively looked at the damage, gauging the depth of the cuts and burns. Finally he reached out and put his hand on Snape's forehead, moving inside to see what internal damage there might be.
The Potions Master moved very slightly, his hand tightened on Dumbledore's. With a small moan he curled tighter against the older man.
"Sshh, Severus, you'll be fine," Barnes soothed, sending his healing energy into the tensing body. Snape slowly, slowly relaxed, his body going more limp draped over the Headmaster. Healing energy surged through the burns and cuts fixing the damage on the inside.
"Now some more potions," he continued to talk quietly explaining the potions to Dumbledore as he painted them on. The blistering began to reabsorb, skin healing almost before their eyes. Tears and cuts sealed and the scars were soon mere white lines across the skin.
Barnes placed his hands over the newly healed wound, pouring in his energy making sure all the area was really closed and whole again. Snape's breath quickened, stuttering slightly and his eyes opened. The pain was gone, he moved a bit and discovered nothing hurt. He still held tightly to Dumbledore's hand as he pressed himself close allowing himself to be cuddled for the moment.
"Good morning Severus," Barnes ran his hand up and down the healed man's back.
"Good morning, Dr. Barnes, good morning Albus," he whispered.
Barnes moved back, pulling a blanket over both men.
"I'll wash up and be right back," he said pleasantly, going to the washroom. Dumbledore waited a moment, then gently kissed Snape's head.
"I'm glad you're better, Severus. I was worried," he admitted. He was pleased the younger man allowed this comforting, both needed it. But he also needed to know what had happened last night. He continued to hold Snape when he asked, "What happened last night?" The Potions Master stiffened then slowly relaxed his muscles one by one.
"I was called so I had to fly out your window and into the forest to apparate. Voldemort was not there, but 12 death eaters had gathered, I was the 13th. The leader detailed the plans for the night: muggle baiting. Wormtail had selected a remote farmhouse for us to pillage and burn down," Snape squeezed his eyes shut as he remembered. Barnes had walked in silently and sat listening. He knew Snape was a death eater, but he'd never heard a report before.
"They played for a while, levitating, spinning, just plain terrorizing the family. They killed the dog outright. Finally all six people were returned to the house in a binding curse and it was set on fire," as a fine tremble coursed through him both Dumbledore and Barnes comforted him.
"I waited then managed to apparate inside the house. I had to take them to the safe house quickly, before anyone noticed I was gone. A couple aurors were there so I left the entire family in their care. I managed to slink around the fire and get back to the circle as they formed to make the dark mark above the farmhouse," he finished leaning against the Headmaster's chest quietly.
"How did you burn your shoulder?" Barnes asked curious.
"Roof was falling in. I wasn't fast enough. At least the muggles were ok," he said.
"Could you recognize anyone besides Wormtail?" Dumbledore pursued.
"No, although I'm sure Goyle and Malfoy were there. They don't bother to disguise their voice; stupid and arrogant," Snape commented. Barnes looked at the wizard, then at the Headmaster, amazed at the story.
"I'm sure the Ministry will send their usual report," the wizard concluded actually enjoying the closeness. He hadn't been held in more years than he could count. Warmth crept through him from the Healer as he drifted back to sleep.