Chapter 10.
Deborah felt him leaving, even as he slipped away. She had known he would, she was an empath. His feelings had been left raw, too tender to risk her bringing painful subjects up to him, even though she would not have. What Snape needed now was the security of being alone and far away from one who had seen him as plainly as she had.
The first to notice that he was avoiding Deborah were the house elves. For two days straight Snape had been having all of his meals delivered to his room, unprecedented behavior from him. House elves rarely bring such concerns to those they serve; indeed it would be a disloyalty to mention one wizard's unusual behavior to a witch or another wizard. They made an exception for Deborah, though, as she was in the habit of buying them peppermints and butterscotch buttons. There are no house elves in America after all, and like foreigners and muggleborns who had not grown up around them she had not been raised taking their services for granted or thinking that it was perfectly fine to be unkind to them. She found them enchanting. They repaid her small and unexpected kindnesses with extreme devotion.
Deborah was in the kitchen getting herself a cup of tea in the wee hours of the morning two days into Snape's avoidance of her. A small elf named Hoople was watching her, desperately fighting the urge to pour the tea for her because she preferred to do it herself. He was an outspoken little fellow, sometimes too outspoken, but Deborah didn't mind. After all, he was her favorite. He didn't care about Snape but he did care for Deborah and knew that until recently she had enjoyed his company.
"Severus Snape does not eat with Deborah Jenkins now. He has not left his room for two days. Is Severus Snape ill? Should Hoople get a healer for him?"
"There are many reasons that Severus Snape might need to stay in his room, Hoople. School will start up again in a couple of weeks and there is much to be done."
"Severus Snape looks sad. He doesn't eat very much of the food we take him. He lays on his bed and doesn't get up."
"Severus Snape is a grown man who is capable of attending to his own business. The best thing that could be done for him is for others to let him be. Let's let Severus Snape tell us if something is wrong and he needs our help." The elf looked at her quizzically. "Hoople, sometimes people need to be alone to think. They are not like house elves. People need some time by themselves, and sometimes people think that if you want to help them it is because you think that they are weak." She produced a handful of peppermints for the elf and Severus Snape was totally forgotten as the little elf sat close to her and savored the sweet candy.
Many times daily, Deborah was approached asking for information about what was going on with Professor Snape. Her advice was inevitably to knock on his door and ask him if they had any concerns for his welfare. None really wanted to ask Snape about his personal business and risk his infamous ire. So they did the next best thing, they came up with some miscellaneous and conflicting rumors. She really didn't care. She knew that Severus needed some time to think and that he was probably still too embarrassed to be around with her. She was perfectly fine with giving him the comfort of his privacy.
Snape, in the meantime, was growing restive in his self-imposed confinement. There is only so much to see and do within one's quarters; without distractions the very thing one wishes to avoid thinking of comes more frequently to mind. The anti apparition spells would be recast soon since the school year was about to start and he would have to travel by the halls or by the flue soon and he hated the dirty spider filled flues. When he decided to start avoiding Deborah he hadn't thought about how he was going to manage to avoid her long term. He had merely wanted to flee from seeing her and feeling humiliated. Now he was getting several messages owled to him daily, asking if he was ill, asking if there were something wrong. He paced in his rooms. He tried to sleep but his sleep was broken and did not refresh him.
Deborah, on the other hand, was finding plenty to keep her busy. In the staff dining area one evening she mentioned that no one used brooms in America unless they were doing some sort of historical presentation. She had never even been on a broom. Wouldn't have the first idea of how to fly one.
This simply would not do. One must have a broom-it would be outlandish not to have one. Off to Diagon Alley they went and back they came, Deborah carrying her brand new broom. An impromptu committee was formed to teach her how to fly the traditional way.
Snape had reached the point he could no longer tolerate exile. He was in the library, reading next to a window for better light when laughter disturbed him. He scowled and looked out to see several staff members clustered below on the ground. Hagrid, of all people, was seated astride a broom about fifty feet off the ground, and Deborah was hanging for dear life from a broom a few feet under him. He moved down far enough to help right her, a position she maintained for all of five seconds before flipping back around. She was laughing as hard as the rest. She tried to get upright again. Instead, the broom swung back and forth. An hour or so later she was at least staying upright part of the time. Severus was drawn back to the window many times to watch the flying lesson. A few times he even smiled slightly. He missed her, but he still couldn't bear to face her.
From that day on, nearly every day Snape would watch her practice her flying. She truly was not good at it. She had no balance and no control. Many times watching her just trying to get onto the broom would force him to stifle a laugh. Even with her dogged persistence, it was plain to see that flying on a broom would never be something she would excel at. She probably would never be competent. But it was entertaining to watch.
The Thursday before the students were to arrive, Snape was sitting in the library when he thought that out of the corner of his eye he saw something fly far too close to the window. An instant later he heard a loud snap and a thud. He ran to the window and saw Deborah lying on the ground, many feet below. He took off running, nearly tripping down the steps in his haste. She was crumpled near the stone wall of the castle, splintered pieces of her broom around her. She must have flown straight into the stone, he thought. He called her name and she didn't respond. Blood was beginning to run from her nose, her ears, her mouth. One leg was surely broken, one arm looked crushed. Snape shook her and screamed her name over and over. There was no response. She barely seemed to breathe.
He picked her up from the ground and ran with her to the hospital wing. He nearly knocked Madam Pomfrey over running through the door. "Over here, Professor Snape," the nurse said, indicating a bed. He placed Deborah in it, trying to straighten out her body as he did. She felt limp in his arms, and he could feel the sickening grate and crunch of broken bones as he lay her down. He felt out of breath and helpless.
"Severus, what happened?" Albus entered swiftly.
"She was out flying on that damned broom of hers and flew right into the side of the castle! She's doesn't know how to fly, she's only been doing it for a few days and she lost control!" Snape then went into a dissertation on bad flying instruction, broom wasn't suitable, etc. He got in Madam Pomfey's way several times and kept asking questions despite being told to wait for her to check the patient out. Albus pulled him aside to some chairs on the other end of the room. He's babbling and nearly hysterical, Albus thought. I'll take care of him so that Poppy can have a chance to work on her.
Taking care of Snape proved to be more of a challenge than taking care of Deborah. Her broken bones were quickly fixed, the other injuries looked far worse than they actually were. She was quickly set into good order. Albus, on the other hand, had to try to distract Severus and keep him far enough away that she could work. He would not be easily redirected.
Snape became increasingly anxious. He continued to bombard the healer with questions. He wanted experts brought in. He demanded to know the name of each potion, how old it was, who made it, why that one was used, and why there wasn't a better one. He suggested a myriad of potions that he could retrieve from his lab at a moment's notice. Although usually very tolerant of those who were upset at a loved one's injuries, Snape eventually tried the patience of the nurse to the point of snapping. She announced that he was not permitted to remain in the hospital ward unless he took a hefty dose of a calming potion. He insisted he didn't need any calming potion in a voice that was starting to rise and crack.
Albus drew him aside and quietly but firmly insisted that he take it. When one dose didn't have the desired effect, Albus persuaded him take another. Then another. Finally, the effects began to manifest. He was still worried to distraction but lower key and less frantic. He didn't interfere as much. Madam Pomfrey said that other than a few broken bones that were still knitting Deborah's injuries were healed and a good night's rest was all that she needed; enough time for the skeleton mending potion to finish working. Snape insisted on keeping a bedside vigil and the healer instructed him that if he could control himself he would be permitted to stay in the hospital wing with her overnight. He pulled up a chair at her bedside until he was at the edge of the bed and watched her intently. The house elves brought him a tray which went untouched. He rubbed his eyes, reddened by several nights of poor sleep and now by stress as well.
He used the opportunity to take a really good look at Deborah, now that she wouldn't think worse of him for staring. She was short, even shorter than he had seemed to him. He made an estimate that she might go 155 centimeters, and it was a remarkably accurate guess. Her skin was naturally darker than his or perhaps she had a tan. He held his hand up to her face and noted the contrast. She had a thin upper lip but a generous lower one. Her nose was small and had a slight bump, as if it had been broken at some time, and knowing her, it was likely. She had broad shoulders for her height, giving an impression of being compact but powerful. She was the antithesis of the type of woman he had always found attractive, Deborah was not tall, willowy, and delicate with red or blonde hair and porcelain skin. But his heart felt so much lighter now that he was seeing her and so close again. After looking around the ward and determining that he was not being observed, he leaned forward and kissed her lips.
Sometime during the night he dozed off, slumping forward in his chair and resting his crossed arms on her bed and his head on her chest. A little before dawn he woke to the relaxing bliss of being held and having his hair softly stroked. Deborah raised her head from the pillow, turned slightly and kissed his forehead; he muttered something incomprehensible and within seconds the residual effects of a triple dose of the calming potion drew him back into his slumber. As morning broke across the sky Madam Pomfrey made her rounds and found Deborah awake, holding a sleeping Snape and stroking his hair. Poppy grinned. A whispered consultation with the actual patient told her that her recovery was complete. "I think we're going to have to trade places," Deborah whispered, pointing at him. "You must have given him something mighty strong because he is totally knocked out. Was he acting that badly?"
Poppy nodded and smiled broadly. "You have no idea," she whispered. "Simply awful." She left, returned with a blanket, and tucked it around Snape.
Albus arrived an hour later with a sack of chocolate frogs and licorice whips in hand, come to check on Deborah. Deborah put her finger to her lips to warn him to be silent. Snape was still sleeping with his head on her chest. Hoople, the house elf, had taken up his station sitting cross-legged at her feet, her self appointed guardian. Albus raised his eyebrows in mock surprise at the sight. Deborah continued to stroke Snape's hair and smiled, ruffling it gently then smoothing it. He grunted softly and snuggled. Albus rolled his eyes, patted his cousin's shoulder, then left in an exaggerated tip-toe step. Deborah snickered and hugged Snape gently. He snuggled against her a little more. Hoople unwrapped a chocolate frog for her then one for himself and both elf and wizard enjoyed a candy as Severus slumbered. All was well in their little corner of the world.