Perhaps it was the lack of human noise in the sterile room that made him feel so out of place. In the hall there had been pure silence; even the wide-eyed nurses watched him without speaking. Here machines beeped their continuous message, and made the boy in front of him breathe. Slightly disturbed, Severus sank into the worn chair beside the bed, eyes glued to the still figure. Ever since the Potter brat had set foot in Hogwarts hallowed halls he had been met with adoring fans, fame and the unfaltering friendship of his fellow Gryffindors. Now he was one with the machine.
Severus cleared his throat before speaking.
"Potter, your doctor said there's a chance you can hear me. If so, there's no harm in trying to stuff that empty head of yours full of Potions. It's not like you learnt anything of use this past year. Now, the basics. Few appreciate the subtle art that is Potions Making…" Severus slipped easily back into the world he knew best. Potions were so much more than just a hobby, or a job for him. They were a constant part of his life; hence why so many of his memories were associated with them. The boy made no sign he had heard a word he said, but the sound of his own voice drowned out the machines somewhat. The doctor watched them inconspicuously from across the hall. He could not hear what the dark haired man was saying, but even he appreciated the rhythmic tones in the sterile environment.
After he had spoke for over an hour, his voice began to crack. Harry remained motionless as ever, but surprisingly Severus felt better about the situation. He stood, and nearly leapt backwards as the machine let out a new noise. It was high pitched, ringing continuously. Doctor Griffin brushed past him almost roughly.
"You're going to have to leave, Mr. Stevens," he said, as the once silent nurses joined him.
"What's happening?" Severus demanded, not moving.
"It is as we feared. His brain has begun to swell from the impact, and his body simply cannot cope. Now, you have to leave!" A male nurse grabbed his arm and pulled him from the room, gently at first, until he struggled.
Alone in the hall, and now completely unable to see Harry, Severus felt panic rise within. What did any of that even mean? Surely that machine would save him, why were the doctors so frenzied?
Finally, after what seemed like eternity, the door opened and in a rush the bed was wheeled out followed by the swarm of physicians. One separated from the rest and walked over to where Severus now stood.
"I am sorry to inform you Mr. Stevens, but your nephew is in real danger at the moment. He is being taken to the operating room for emergency surgery. I will not beat around the bushes, there is a high chance he will not make it through the afternoon,"
The words hit Severus like a physical blow to the chest. The boy was 12 years old. That he should die was inconceivable. He sank back into his chair with a soft thump.
"I'm sorry sir," The nurse said sympathetically. "His blood pressure has risen and there is a lot of pressure on the head wound. There's a high chance of brain damage, but where there's life, there's hope after all,"
He patted Severus on the shoulder before heading in the direction the other Doctors had gone.
Severus felt so shocked that he did not recoil from the physical contact. The hard chair had never seemed so undesirable; he desperately wished he were anywhere else at that moment. Anywhere but waiting to hear whether the boy who lived would in fact be dead by morning.
A clock on the wall showed the passing of hours, but every click of the hand drove a spike of unease through Severus. What was taking them so long? After what seemed like a lifetime the white bed was wheeled back, and the machine had resumed a steady beat.
Doctor Griffin broke away from the throng and went to speak to Severus.
"We had to operate once more. He came close, but the boy is a fighter. He will need to be closely monitored, but with any luck the swelling should ease over the next few days. You should get something to eat, Harry may need you," he smiled down at the greasy haired man in what he assumed was a reassuring way.
Severus stood abruptly, feeling a strange sensation pass over him.
"Notify me immediately to any changes in his condition," he said, and swooped from the room. As Doctor Griffin watched him leave, he could well imagine the fearsome expression on Severus' face.
Albus had made his way back to the room Harry was in, although today his robes were a charcoal gray. Beside him a short woman with a determined expression on her face walked, glancing about occasionally at the paintings on the wall. Her hair had been drawn back into a severe bun, and there was a worried expression on her face. Her eyes fell on a dark form in a chair near Harry's door.
Severus was asleep, mouth open. His gentle snores seemed to echo around the other wise empty hall.
"Severus," Albus said gently touching his shoulder.
Severus was awake instantly, blinking blearily at them both.
"How is Harry?" Albus asked as soon as Severus regained lucidity.
"He almost died last night, Albus. His head wound seems to be causing him great distress," Severus said bluntly, getting to his feet.
"Can we see him?" Albus asked looking even more worried than when he had entered. Doctor Griffin nodded from the corner, and they went into the room together.
Harry's skin looked pale and lifeless. Severus felt Poppy stiffen beside him. He knew how she felt; the sight was highly confronting. Being a Healer however, she seemed to get over it quickly though. She moved towards the bed, and ensuring that no one was watching, discreetly waved her wand over the boy while holding a piece of parchment.
"His injuries are most severe, Albus. If this had happened in the magical world, I do not know whether we could have saved him in time," she whispered.
"Then there is no hope?" Albus asked sadly.
"I wouldn't say that," Poppy answered, reading over the parchment again.
"Where there is life, there is hope," Severus murmured, and colored slightly when he realized he had spoken aloud.
"Exactly, Severus," Poppy said briskly, choosing to ignore his embarrassment. "What we need is a Stasis potion, and a big enough distraction to get him out of here and into Hogwart's hospital wing,"
"Stasis potions don't appear out of thin air. Slowing the body down enough so that it no longer needs oxygen is risky, and the potion takes at least three days to brew," Severus said. "And that nosey Doctor still retains some of his magical ability. He might throw off a Memory Charm in time,"
"Doctor Griffin? Well, his family on his father's side is distantly related to Godric Gryffindor's cousin Gredric. Two generations back his great grandfather was born a squib, and no one in his line but the good Doctor have had magic since. His family did not want him to have a magical education, and Gregory himself wished desperately to be a muggle doctor. Rather than have uncontrolled magic occur, I gave him a Magic removal potion and left. He should have lost all of his abilities," Dumbledore explained.
He had sifted through his memories since meeting Doctor Griffin, and remembered why the man had seemed familiar.
"Well it's wearing off. Right after he brought Potter back last night, he smiled at me and it was like he was force-feeding me hope. He's an empath; and he can project his emotions. That's probably why he's a Doctor," Severus said indifferently.
"Well, we shall have to get him to support our cause. I can make it so Harry Potter was never registered at this hospital, or any where in the Muggle world," Albus said determinately. He had to do something; he felt useless in this situation as he had not felt for years.
"Severus, you shall have to make the potion. It is extremely volatile, and I trust you above all others," Dumbledore continued.
"Who shall stay with the boy?" Severus asked, almost reluctantly.
"Remus Lupin has just been forcibly removed from his place of employment. I'm sure he will be amenable. Poppy, I trust you will have the Hospital Wing ready for Harry in three days. I will not lose him," the sparkle in Albus' eyes had changed to steadfast determination, and for a brief second there was no mistaking the wizard who had defeated Grindelward in 1945.
The witch and wizard left, with a backwards glance at the still form in the bed. Severus waited until a familiar sandy haired werewolf entered the hall, and left without greeting him. He was desperate to return to the cold comfort of the dungeons, and immerse himself into the ancient art of Potion Making.
