My Dark Protector
Chapter 7
Severus swatted at the irritating beeping in his ear, as if trying to dislodge the sound completely, while still sleeping. Consciousness slowly began to heighten his awareness, until he realized the beeping was important, but why he still couldn't figure out at first. He abruptly sat up, his legs staying in the same position as he did so. His head turned to the side so fast his neck clicked; the muscles spasmed in protest, causing pain to flare through him. He absently rubbed at his neck as he stood up in the bright room. It was, as always, lit up so they could keep an eye on Harry—that, and to let Harry know he was in a safe environment, after spending all those years in that dark, damp underground facility. They had all been so tired they'd had no trouble falling asleep despite the brightness in the room. When you were that tired out, you could sleep anywhere... even standing up.
Rising to his feet, he moved over to Harry, absently rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he did so. Sitting down on the bedside chair, he moved it so he could see Harry properly and so the teenager would be able to see him. He knew he made an intimidating figure, hence his reason to sit down: so Harry didn't immediately become terrified or intimidated should he awaken and see a stranger there. Although Severus knew the fear was inevitable, he had to do everything he could to help Harry, which included not using magic. As difficult as that would be, he would prevail.
He hadn't expected this tonight; he had assumed Harry would remain unconscious for a few more days. Of course, Harry Potter was one for defying others' expectations. He had survived the attack on his family; survived a killing curse, which had rebound on the Dark Lord and disembodied him. He had survived the Dursleys, and he had survived all the evils that woman had heaped upon him. He was a survivor. If by some miracle Harry was fit, healthy, and sane, there was little doubt he would be placed in Slytherin, due to his pure, unadulterated drive to live, to survive.
Black eyes watched the small, twitchy movements. He had no fear that Harry would be able to get out of the bed. Not only was there a spell on the bed to prevent it, but there was no way he would have the strength to move so much as his head, never mind his body. The boy would need to undergo physical therapy, something Snape was familiar with; Poppy as well.
He braced himself, making sure that he had no emotion on his face, anger or otherwise. Harry needed calmness in his life, especially after having so many negative emotions thrown his way. At four years of age, the brain was fully developed; there was a chance Harry actually remembered his time with the Dursleys, that was, if the potions were repairing all the damage done to him by the drugs that he'd been given.
Then those startling green eyes opened; he'd known Harry had green eyes, Albus had told him. They were exactly the same shape and colour as his mother's, but that was where the sameness ended. Lily had been joyful, jubilant and boisterous; much like Albus, her eyes had always held a twinkle in them... except the night she died. Harry's, however, were opened wide, panicked and full of fear. It made his heart hurt as if someone was shoving a knife into him.
"You are safe, Harry; try to remain calm," Severus said, his voice smooth, calming in its effect, catching Harry's attention. "She cannot hurt you anymore; I made sure of that." It was extremely difficult not to let his anger show, but thankfully, due to his spying days, he was able to maintain his calm façade. He continued to watch the boy, waiting to see if he understood, but his face didn't change from its terror. Harry was watching him as if he was an extremely dangerous snake ready to strike. Quite an apt description, really, if Harry was anyone else; he would learn though, that he had nothing to fear from him.
Severus moved from his seat, slowly, aware that those eyes continued to move with him. He poured water from the jug into a plastic cup. The water was cold this time, hopefully Harry would appreciate that. He kept his movements slow, letting Harry see where he was at all times. He was propped up with pillows, which extended halfway down his back, in an attempt to keep his weight off the bedsores. Although this was next to impossible with the one at the tail of his spine, they'd done their best.
"Drink," said Severus, placing the cup at his mouth, but the boy refused to open his mouth. Breathing evenly, Snape brought the cup to his own lips and drank some of the water, letting Harry see it wasn't drugged, and that it wasn't about to hurt him. Once a few seconds had passed, he moved the cup back to Harry's mouth; his lips twitched in pride as Harry took a small sip. Once he realized what it was ― or perhaps how thirsty he was ― he began to guzzle it down as fast as possible. Severus knew that he shouldn't let Harry drink it too quickly, so he made sure that he couldn't get too much at once. Before long the cup's contents had been drunk, so he placed it back on the nightstand. The urge to wake up Poppy was strong, but he didn't want to panic Harry. Food would also help to establish trust between them... but he couldn't summon a House-Elf in here. He didn't want to leave him either, so he was in quite a quandary.
His dilemma was solved when Poppy began to stir, as if she was also aware that her patient was awake.
"Poppy, move slowly," Severus said, barely moving his mouth as he spoke to her. He was now facing away from Harry.
Poppy heard Severus' words, and she leapt to the only possible conclusion: Harry was at long last awake. Slowly sitting up, she gazed at the child, barely refraining from gasping. His eyes…they looked older than Albus', and more terrified than she'd ever seen anyone ―ever. Severus had advised her not to wear her uniform when tending to Harry, as she was the same size and age of the woman who had hurt him. She had taken his advice to heart, and she was glad she had…she wouldn't have been able to handle more terror in Harry's eyes.
"Shall I get him something?" asked Poppy; the urge to feed him up was, as always, very strong.
"Chicken soup," Severus suggested; he doubted Harry would drink tomato soup if he gave him any. It would be too much a vivid reminder of the horrors he'd seen and the blood that had been spilled. No, they would need to stay away from things like that for the foreseeable future.
"I'll go get it," said Poppy, still keeping her voice low and her movements quiet and slow. She could feel eyes boring into her, but whether it was Severus or not, she didn't know. He was awake, she could scarcely believe it, and they would begin their true diagnosis soon. Had he spoken? Was he even capable of it? He obviously hadn't retreated into his own mind; otherwise he wouldn't have woken up. There was hope, a small one, but it was there, and right now that was all that mattered.
"Roz?" Poppy called quietly once she'd reached the outer room, trying not to wake Albus; there was no point to their all being up. Despite how early it was, it wouldn't be long before Albus did get up. What sleep she'd gotten, had rested her; she wasn't tired, just draggy-feeling, but that was only due to insufficient sleep. She probably would be tired again in a few hours, but more sleep could wait.
"How can I help Healer Poppy?" asked Roz, her sleep-heavy eyes gazing at Mistress. She adored Poppy, perhaps for the simple reason that she treated her as though she existed. Poppy had even taught her wizard healing spells ― basic ones, to stop bleeding and such, just in case anything big happened and she needed help.
"Can you warm up some chicken soup, please?" asked Poppy, "Bring it through here; don't appear in the bedroom, even if we call for you from there. We have a patient who isn't familiar with magic; we want him to get better first before he learns of our world," she continued to explain.
"I will do that," said Roz before she popped away.
Poppy sighed softly, sitting down; she still wasn't used to being in the Headmaster's living quarters. They were different from his office, very different in fact. There were no knickknacks on every available surface, only a small selection of books, but he could have more elsewhere, she supposed. It wasn't done up in red and gold; that was probably the biggest surprise, but considering she'd heard he'd set fire to his dormitory curtains as a teenager, she shouldn't be. No, instead his rooms were done in sedate colours: white, creams, caramel-coloured leather couches, with a matching rug across from the fireplace.
"Here is the chicken soup, all warmed up," Roz said, appearing again. "I brought some fresh water and milk... is that okay?"
"Yes, thank you, Roz, you may go now," Poppy said, standing up and taking the large tray, which was feather-weighted, otherwise Roz would have been crippled under the real weight of it. Milk was something Harry definitely needed; his entire body was so small due to muscle atrophy. Fortunately, with potions they could build it back to what it was meant to be. It would take a long time, and he would need to wait until he was off two specific potions to begin that course of treatment, otherwise the interaction between the ingredients would cause worse damage. His PT would also help with this particular problem too. She doubted Harry would ever be as tall as he could have been; the damage was too severe for that ― even with potions helping.
Taking a deep breath she moved back into the room, placing the tray on the table she was sure hadn't been there before she went to sleep. No, she knew it hadn't been, Severus must have conjured it for some reason. Well, all the better, since she had nowhere else to put her tray, due to the water jug and all the potions already being on the nightstand.
"Do you want it in a cup?" suggested Poppy softy.
"Actually, yes, it will make things less messy," Severus said, taking the cup he'd just used and flipping it a few times to get the remains of the water out. Poppy had picked up the bowl; accepting the cup from Severus, she poured some of the soup into the cup, making a big mess. Considering that Harry wouldn't drink it all anyway, it wasn't going to be any less wasted. His stomach was probably still really small; he would get full quickly.
"Has he said anything?" whispered Poppy, gazing at Harry quickly in concern. The pain relief they'd given him had surely worn off by now? To see him so quiet was, quite frankly, unnerving. It was probably best to put the potions magically into him tonight, since he was no doubt still wary of them and their intentions. A small part of her wondered if using magic wouldn't have the opposite effect of what Severus feared. What if by using magic they could make Harry see that he wasn't bad, or wrong, or a freak or whatever he might think himself. He might trust them quicker…but the damage they could end up doing was too great to ignore.
"No, give it a few days; he needs to learn to trust us, and this is the way to go about it, " Severus said so quietly he was positive Harry wouldn't be able to hear them. He took the cup from Poppy, and stood once again, trying to make himself seem smaller, but it was an impossible task; he was a tall man. All he was doing was hurting himself by crouching, but that was a cross to be borne, if it helped Harry. He once again took a drink first to reassure Harry that there was nothing wrong with it. Although it was a bit hot, hopefully it wouldn't be too hot for the boy.
Harry wasn't as calm as before; he kept shooting his eyes towards Poppy, as if he expected her to come and take the food away, or land a blow or something. She seemed to realize this, so she sat down across the room, still within seeing distance though.
"You need to eat, Harry, it will help you get better," Severus said soothingly.
Poppy looked over, unable to help herself. She'd always known Severus had a very calm voice when he wanted to use it. The thing was, she'd never heard him sound so soothing before, not even when he had an injured, or the rare abused, student in the hospital wing. Go figure that it would take Lily's son to bring out the best she knew was in Severus, out in the stern Potions-Master-Professor-Head-of-House.
"Well done," said Severus, calmly, but he could see halfway through that the boy was becoming uncomfortable. He assumed it could be due to the fact he was uncomfortably full. He continued drinking the soup regardless, and Severus knew if he pulled the cup back, distrust would breed. Yet at the same time, if he continued to eat he could end up sick. Unless of course the House-Elf had placed a spoonful of Anti-Nausea potion into the soup.
Just like that Harry's eyes began to close—most unwillingly, if the frustrated annoyance in Harry's eyes was anything to go on. It was the same look that Draco had used to get as a baby, when he'd been tired and had wanted to eat. He didn't know whether to take comfort from that or not. Harry would be like a baby for a while; he would need help for absolutely everything, possibly for a long time, depending on how he was mentally. He could have actually regressed to the age of a baby; it all depended on whether he remembered how to speak, or even if he actually knew any words.
"What do you think?" Poppy asked the silent room, as she watched Severus put the mostly empty cup back on the table before standing up and stretching in relief.
"Truthfully? It's too early to say, but given that he didn't even make a sound, it isn't good," Severus admitted, "We will get there, though; I'm not going to give up on him. I swore to protect him, and up until now I've failed; never again." His voice turned cold instantly, conveying the depth of his feelings on the matter.
Poppy nodded her understanding, glancing at Harry again, looking pensive.
"Go home, get some sleep," said Severus, "I have no doubt Black and Lupin will be in to see you very early."
"Do you think they realize they won't be getting to spend a lot of time with him?" Poppy asked, doubt coating her voice.
"No," Severus replied immediately. "In fact, we can count on Black complaining lengthily about it. He will think that Harry will be fine with a few potions, and magically get better. I don't think he truly understands the effect the Muggle drugs had on him, or the full effect of what has happened to him. We might need to come up with some magical alternatives to make him realize the extent of Harry's illness."
"Black isn't mentally equipped to deal with this; he is barely hanging on to his own sanity after his stay in Azkaban, and I shouldn't be surprised that he doesn't understand the gravity of what happened to Harry. I've been trying to get him to realize this for years, but he kept pushing me off, insisting that he was fine," Poppy complained, shaking her head in irritation.
"If anything or anyone can get him to see you, even I have to admit it's Harry," said Severus. It felt odd saying the teenager's given name. Not just because he had often referred to him mentally as Potter, but because he called all his students (children from eleven years old to seventeen) by their last names. Poppy, Filius, Pomona, Minerva, and Albus were the only ones he called by their first names; the rest of the teachers were also called by their last names.
"Obviously, since he's agreed to come and see me," agreed Poppy. "He might not like the results of my diagnosis. Have you seen him recently? He isn't taking care of himself; he's…well…unkempt and smelly."
"After so long in Azkaban, he won't think of himself as such…but obviously Lupin hasn't had the backbone to tell him," said Severus wryly, knowing that for a werewolf the smell must be bloody awful.
"He hasn't been taking care of himself, so the chances of his having something wrong are, quite frankly, great," Poppy told him.
Severus nodded his agreement. "Go get some rest; I shall remain here tonight. In fact, with that handy spell, I think I'll try to sleep some more. Although I don't think I will; I'm far too awake for that."
"Will I give him his potions?" asked Poppy, glancing at the time. "He is due two right now anyway." These were important; one was for his mind and the other was his antibiotic.
"Go ahead," replied Severus. "Excuse me," he added, making his way through to the bathroom, to relieve himself and the pressure in his bladder. Then he scrubbed his hands and arms, making sure they were thoroughly clean before wiping down with a towel that had been placed there not long before. They couldn't allow any bacteria near Harry, which was why they had antibacterial soap in the bathroom. Placing the towel in the hamper for the House-Elves to wash, he exited the bathroom, returning in time to see Poppy spell the last potion into Harry's stomach. These empty vials were then placed in a small bin with the others. They would be cleaned out, then reused; it was much too expensive to throw them away after using them only once, especially considering all the potions they had to make. It definitely would be too costly.
"That's the potions done for tonight; he will not need them again until morning, around ten o'clock," Poppy said, not even having to turn around; she knew she was speaking to Severus. By then she would be on duty. Moving towards the end of the bed and lifting the clipboard (having put it there out of sheer habit), she scribbled the necessary information down using a pen, a Muggle item Severus had introduced her to. She loved them, especially for writing in charts. It looked much neater and took less time than using a quill, especially when she was in a hurry or had more than one patient.
"Good," murmured Severus, yawning behind his hand. He was surprised that he was yawning, since he had slept more tonight than he had in what was now three days. It was August the fourth already, since it was past midnight. He found this hard to believe, but that didn't make it any less true.
"If we are to be his primary caregivers, do you think we should set him up in a room somewhere else?" Poppy wondered, still standing by Harry's bed.
"Well, Albus did say this room was only temporarily, but I have no idea what he has planned. Harry is far too ill to have his own room, so that is out of the question," replied Severus. The truth be told, he would prefer to be in his own rooms. It felt extremely odd to be in Albus' quarters, and sleeping there especially so. He would have been surprised that he'd been able to sleep, if not for the fact he'd been ready to collapse where he stood. The wards around his quarters were actually stronger than Albus', which was surprising. Then again, Albus actually controlled the wards in all of Hogwarts; he would know if someone was even approaching his office, never mind if they knew the password to get in. Severus only had limited control of the dungeons, in Slytherin territory, so he knew where his Snakes were at all times. Even Minerva's control of Hogwarts as Deputy Headmistress was limited, a ghostly version of Albus'.
"You have a spare room; it's large, airy, and has a very tranquil feel to it," Poppy pointed out. You could see under the lake from there, one of the charms on it, and you could hear the waves and general water sounds. It was one of the reasons Severus hadn't used that room, he honestly hadn't wanted to spell the damn wall every time the silencing charm wore off.
"While it would be ideal, I do not want Black or Lupin in my living quarters," Severus said; he drew the line at that.
"If they get to see him now, they will only be allowed in the room for a few hours, less for the moment, as he's very ill. Visiting hours will be implemented," Poppy said primly. She wasn't going to go about trying to get Harry better with Sirius and Remus sitting there, watching her every minute of the day. She drew the line at that. Plus she needed Severus' help, desperately, and if Remus and Sirius went too far, she knew he would withdraw his help, not just at that moment, but completely. She couldn't do everything herself. Yet she knew that Severus wouldn't be doing it out of spite; he just couldn't deal with Sirius or Remus—some wounds just went too deep. None went deeper than the fact that they'd almost killed him, or worse, almost left him with a cursed life ― as a werewolf. Many didn't survive a werewolf attack, and considering Lupin had just turned for the full moon…if Sirius hadn't revealed what he had done to James, Severus would have been out there all night; there truly wouldn't have been a chance for him to survive. She would need to keep an eye on them, at all times. More work for herself; it was the last thing she needed, but it was better than the alternative.
"That is a very good idea," Severus agreed, "Although Black will probably fight you on it every chance he gets."
"Of that, I have no doubt," murmured Poppy, her lips twitching in amusement.
"Go, sleep," said Severus, sitting down on his recliner. He really should have a shower; he desperately needed one. In fact, he would actually prefer a bath. He would need to get up half an hour early; hopefully it would mean he could bathe in peace.
"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow; if you need me before then, you know where I am," Poppy told him as she grabbed her bag; all the necessary potions had been removed from it. She pondered bringing more up as she wandered out the room and used Albus' fire to Floo back to her rooms. She didn't do much thinking after that, as she slid into her warm, comfortable bed, and fell asleep almost immediately.
"Bitsy!" called Albus, sitting down in his chair, having just spelled the fire to blaze in his sitting room and warming it up. In a castle it could get very draughty, very quickly. So mornings were always cold, and usually the House-Elves had lighted the fire before he woke. Unfortunately he couldn't sleep anymore; he was just much too anxious.
"Breakfast for Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Snape," Bitsy said, appearing in the room and placing the large platter on the table.
"Thank you," Albus told her gratefully. He was already pouring himself a strong black coffee, and adding two spoonfuls of sugar, which he liked since it gave him the energy he sometimes just didn't have.
He wasn't surprised when Severus walked out the spare room's door; not only was he an early riser, but he loved coffee in the morning. In fact, the students would possibly be in danger if Severus was forced to teach without it. Considering the way he was during his classes, you'd think he couldn't get worse with them, but the truth was, he could. He wasn't a bad teacher per se, he was just…ill tempered, and having students making silly mistakes that could cause devastating explosions didn't help. Even teaching Transfiguration had been a tricky class, what with backfiring spells; Albus was just glad it wasn't Potions he'd had to teach. When Horace had taught, in the beginning there'd been a student sent to the hospital wing during each class; it had been endless—perhaps because he had been too soft on them, and he hadn't paid attention as he ought to have. That was, thankfully, no longer the case, with Severus now teaching Potions.
"Good morning," Albus said, watching Severus closely as he poured himself a cofee and sat down. He looked a bit uncomfortable, but he always did when he wasn't in his own territory.
"Harry woke up," Severus revealed, deliberately waiting until Albus was drinking his coffee, causing him to startle and splutter.
"And?" Albus asked while holding his breath, too eager for an answer to give Severus a pointed look for making him splutter, of all things.
"And nothing," Severus replied. "He will begin to heal, learn to trust us, and then we will find out the extent of the damage. Considering he didn't make a sound, it's going to be an excruciatingly long road to getting him better."
Albus swallowed thickly. "Not even a single sound?"
"No, nothing; when he began to tire, a frustrated look appeared on his face, but he still remained silent," Severus told the older wizard honestly.
Albus pursed his lips, a frown appearing on his face as he thought over the new information. What did it mean? Would Harry not even be able to talk? Or was he just so traumatised that he didn't want to? Or so used to not having someone listen to him that he felt it was useless to waste his energy talking? Had he forgotten how to speak? Could he even remember how to hold a conversation? At the age of four, children knew the basics; did Harry? Or were they going to have to teach him everything from the beginning? He didn't mind per se; he just wanted Harry to get better. He was under no illusions that Harry would be fine in time for Hogwarts startup this year, and didn't even contemplate the thought. No, it would take years for Harry to recover.
"Do not worry overly much; there is nothing wrong with his vocal cords, and he was quite talkative when he was a small child," Severus stated, stiffling a frown of memory.
Albus' lips twitched. "That he was," he admitted; as a child Harry had been adorable. "Dear Merlin, I hope that we do not linger after death, Severus, for if Lily saw this done to her child…" his face spasmed in agony. James had loved Harry too, but Lily—she had been so proud of her son. James had been busy working a lot of the time, so Lily had been able to bond with her child in a way that James hadn't. It was perhaps why the bond between mother and son had been strong enough that she was quite literally able to save him from the jaws of death.
"I know," Severus said, grimacing bitterly.
Suddenly the Floo activated and spat out a new arrival. "Am I interrupting something?" Poppy asked, sensing the grimness in the room.
"Of course not," said Albus, "Have you had breakfast?"
"Yes, I've been up since six," Poppy admitted, sitting down and reaching for the coffee pot. "I wouldn't mind a drink though."
"I assume Black and Lupin have been to see you?" said Severus shrewdly; she looked frazzled—not that people who didn't know her very well would be able to tell. She never truly showed her emotions to this extreme, unless she was under immense strain. It was just the tensing of the muscles of her face, the pursed lips, and tightened eyes, and her jawbone kept clenching every few seconds.
"Yes," Poppy admitted while rubbing at her forehead, clearly agitated.
"How did it go?" asked Albus. He knew Severus was desperate to ask, but would never enquire about Sirius' or Remus' welfare.
"Not good," said Poppy, "Black pitched a fit, not that I could have expected otherwise."
Severus arched an eyebrow, she was calling him Black? Well, that was a surprise; in fact, it must be a first. She must be really furious with him. She hadn't called him Black since he had graduated Hogwarts. She had her 'favourites', but nobody really knew who they were unless they got special treatment, which usually consisted of their getting away with things that most of the students didn't. There had been one night when she had used his first name, the night he'd almost been attacked by a werewolf. The shock of it had almost caused his body to shut down, but with care Poppy had helped him and brought him out of it. As a child he had been furious that Dumbledore had swept it under the rug, although as an adult he reluctantly understood. He had been defending a somewhat innocent student and his own ass. Albus had been the one, after all, to let a werewolf enroll in a school full of helpless students; not only would Albus have been forced to retire or been fired, but Black would have been expelled, and Remus sentenced to death or Azkaban.
"How long before they can visit?" questioned Albus.
"A week to three months; Black has a bronchial infection. It's probably been there since he was in Azkaban, or shortly after he got out," Poppy replied. "He's on antibiotics... that's if he takes them."
"What of Remus?" wondered Albus.
"He has a mild cold that will be cleared up in a few days with a few potions," answered Poppy.
Edited by Jake and Jordre thank you so much guys!
