Disclaimer: *Enters house with Snape trailing behind her. "But he followed me home, Jo. Can I keep him?"
Blood, so much blood…Severus swallowed, trying not to expel his dinner. He was not generally weak of stomach, but Anna lay immobile and frailly pale among blood-soaked rags and spit, face as grey as rain, and the clothes Healer Greengrass was frantically ripping off of her was still vividly painted with still-fresh lifeblood—Severus didn't know whether it was Anna's or her father's.
He'd slipped in as they brought in and tossed her on the bed, informing Madame Greengrass curtly that it mattered little whether she lived or died, since she'd gotten in the way of a very Dark curse and was now completely unfit for the ritual the Dark Lord had wished to use her for, not to mention she'd injured Owen Rosier. From the sound of it, the Dark Lord had not been very happy—he had actually come to Chateau Malfoy to await the arrival of the girl, only to find her hanging onto life by a thread. From down the corridor, he could hear the voice people had called "ringing" and "sincere" distorted with rage, screaming, "Did I not say she was to be unharmed and untainted? If she has suffered from the effects of a Dark curse, she'll be completely useless to the ritual, it'll have tainted her innocence, and she will not have recovered from the stain of your magic by then—if she even lives. Rosier, I trusted you to accomplish a simple mission and you failed me, allowed yourself to be wounded by a mere girl even! If the girl lives, as recompense to her marred magical aura and the fact that you asked no permission to kill her, your son will marry her and give her an assured future. Do you understand me, Rosier? Crucio!"
Gods, Anna is better off dying if she isn't rescued, Severus thought as the door swung shut and the sound of the Dark Lord's enraged torture of his servants became muted and merely indistinct screams. He scanned Anna Nott's limp body with worry as the Blood Oath pulsed and twinged at him, and caught sight of something glinting silver and red clutched tight in her left hand, just as her wand was still helpless in her right. Is that a knife? A memory—Nott winning the annual competition at the beginning of Summer Gathering, being gifted with a Destiny's silver athame. No wonder she scored a hit on Rosier. Anything from Destiny's is potent in the hands of its wielder. It's a wonder Owen Rosier isn't dead, although he well might be after that ugly bout of Cruciatus the Dark Lord was giving him.
"You! Young Snape, don't just stand there. Help me!" Healer Greengrass noticed him in the shadowy corner and impatiently waved him over. He hesitantly came forward, and arranged himself on the bed, slowly and carefully moving Anna's limp body to cradle her in his arms. "There, now hold her still as you can, no matter what happens," she instructed, and proceeded to cast a spell, encasing Anna in an unearthly rust-red glow. Anna unexpectedly arched her back in Severus' grasp and shrieked, a spine-chilling sound that went on and on and on…she bucked and writhed with inhuman strength as Severus hung on grimly, biting back a yelp of agony as she sank teeth into his arm when he wouldn't release her. Gods, what spell did she get in the way of, to go this mad?
It seemed to go on forever, but finally, well after Severus was aching and bone-tired and peppered with bruises and bite marks, the weird glow faded and so did Anna's strength. She sank back down into his body bonelessly, unnaturally limp, and stared blankly at the ceiling. "Charlotte, find me some Mortis Purgo. Now!" Healer Greengrass snapped at her daughter, whom Severus had not noticed until now was hovering uncertainly in the background and staring at her friend in terror. But her mother's words seemed to bring her back to her senses—she dashed out again, presumably to find the potion. Mortis Purgo, also known as Purification Potion—one of the hardest potions to brew because its ingredients are a combination of deadly poisons and toxins, and just one slip will cause the poisons to explode or actually kill the patient instead of neutralizing each other like they should to provide a healing potion for the Darkest curses…wide-eyed, Severus glanced down at the dead weight in his arms again before looking back up at the healer, who was over at the sink and cupboards soaking more rags and pulling various vials and bottles off shelves. "Stay there, lad—" she called as she gathered up everything and came bustling back over to the bed.
"It's better she have some human contact that means her no ill, and she'll need you sorely in the times to come if she's to pull through safely," Healer Greengrass said soberly as she poured a potion from a green bottle that read Detoxification Potion on the white label onto the wet rags before thrusting the pile at her. "Here, take these and wipe her down with it, boy. I wish I had a skin-applied Detox Balm instead, this is meant to be ingested and it'll leave her skin raw for a couple days, but there's no other option. She'll just vomit it right back out if I try to get her to take it orally."
"All of her?" Severus burst out incredulously, turning red.
"This is no time to be prudish, boy. She managed to stab Rosier Sr. with her silver knife when he went after her father, but he hit her with a Cruciatus and then she jumped in the way, so they tell me, of the Satan's Curse Rosier aimed at her father and that spell I just used only burnt out the top layer of the disease that's in her now. She won't live out the hour if we can't bring the damned thing under control!"
Severus blanched. Satan's Curse…the worst of the Dark Curses, feared more than the Unforgivables among those who know what it does…the only reason it's not an Unforgivable too is because people stopped using it centuries ago, decades before laws were even put into place to regulate spells. What made Rosier and his men decide to cast such a Dark spell? Ego, showing off, for fun—they are truly evil! Severus steeled himself, picked up a potions-soaked cloth and began to gently swab Anna's face and neck with it. He'd work his way down. Glancing at the clock up in the corner of the room, he noted the time: 12:44. He had an hour and sixteen minutes to keep Anna alive and get her out of here somehow with Black's help. He just hoped Anna would live that long.
Healer Greengrass was mixing potions at the sink counter.
It was a hazardous task, an action of a desperate Mediwitch. It was a task similar to if Severus went to the kitchen and tried to make a viable potion with only the items stocked there: water, pumpkin juice, cabbage, cardamom and pepper…you could create a completely lethal new poison, or an acidic mix that would eat through anything including the bowl it was being mixed in and the table. More often, you'd come up with a useless mixture that did absolutely nothing but give you a stomach-ache. But Severus knew, with a growing certainty as he watched the brisk movements of the woman's hands as she examined each potion she'd set in front of her, recalled the ingredients in each one, and measured out various liquids to dump into a row of small vials, that without any attempt at it, Anna would surely die. Charlotte Greengrass still hadn't arrived back with the Mortis Purgo, and even if she did, it was no guarantee that it would work. Gulping nervously, he continued to swab Anna Nott's skin with the Detox potion.
When he was done, the bundle of potion-soaked cloths were tinged a filmy sort of grey-green, and Severus had lost his desire to even feel bad at the fact that he was methodically undressing and wiping down a nude girl. The truth was, any elements of impropriety or risqué thoughts on his part were firmly absent in such a place, with Anna on the verge of death and her body gleaming with faintly acidic sweat, skin grey in the well-lit room. He'd wiped off the blood while he was at it, and had verified his suspicions that none of the blood was hers—it was all Karston Nott's and Owen Rosier's blood. Dispassionately, Severus wondered if it had been his own spell Sectumsempra, one of the spells he'd given the Death Eaters via Lucius, which had done the older man in. If it had been, it would not have been a pleasant death unless applied directly to the carotid artery. Any other place, and Karston would have spent minutes or even hours dying, bleeding out from the cuts.
Across the room, Healer Greengrass had her eyes narrowed in intense concentration as she began to stir a strange-looking mixture of brown sludge in a sterilized bowl, held steady in midair by a spell over a magical, non-burning fire. A makeshift cauldron—Severus suspected it was because the bowl was pure and unsullied silver that had never held anything but clean water before that the healer had created the excuse of a cauldron and fire instead of sending for one from the basement laboratory. The Malfoys had a nice silver cauldron, but it would be useless here because it had brewed other potions before, and most likely had held Dark potions. Untainted silver cauldrons were the best for touchy and volatile potions, so no residue or magical leftovers, even the slightest hint of one, could set off something in the brew. Severus was grudgingly impressed, as he quietly pulled the covers back over Anna Nott's naked body, walking over to where Healer Greengrass was. The Levitation spell took concentration to hold the object suspended in the air, and the fire she'd conjured that could exist and heat her concoction to blood-heat temperature and more without burning anything nor melting the cauldron was nothing to sniff at. Careful not to distract her, Severus eased his way into her space, placing his own Levitation charm on the bowl. If she was grateful, she didn't say so, but she did release her own charm, letting Severus' take the weight of the bowl.
Abruptly, the door opened—heedful of his hold on the bowl, Severus turned to see Charlotte Greengrass panting, a tiny glass vial held clutched in one hand. "I Mirror-called St. Mungo's, Mum. They didn't have any in stock. I asked at Greenbriar, Viva Morte, Sisters of Hope, even Salem Care…" the girl finally realized that she was rambling and her mother still with her back to her, shoulders hunched as she half-listened, half-concentrated on her unorthodox brewing. "Anyway, I finally bribed the last of what Lugh Hospital had out of them. Here it is." Severus blinked when she thrust the vial at him.
"What—"
"Charlotte, say goodbye to your friend and do not come back in here tonight, please. Snape, I'm almost done with this—we'll administer it, and if it doesn't kill her, she might just have enough of a chance to get some of the Mortis Purgo to work."
"But Mum—"
"I mean it, Charlotte. I know you're close to Anna, sweetie, but you have to do this for her. She needs to go to a place where she can be properly taken care of, and with people whose first priorities are her life and not her value as an object. Go on, Charlotte." Busily, hands never stopping, Healer Greengrass both reprimanded and soothed her daughter at the same time. Charlotte's eyes filled with tears, and she approached Anna. Severus turned away to give Charlotte the illusion of privacy at least, as the girl pressed one of Anna's palms between her own two hands and then whispered something in her ear. They must have been better friends than I thought, although they never showed it more than simply spending slightly more time in each other's presence. But then if I had a real friendship here, I'd hide that too as much as I could, to keep from being exploited.
He watched her exit, feeling troubled. Why hadn't her mother allowed her to stay? Why Severus? Charlotte was the Healer-in-training, not he. But Healer Greengrass was interrupting him, asking him to slowly lower the bowl. She carried it over to Anna's unresponsive form. "Now, Snape, I'm going to have to spoon-feed her all of this and the results are not going to be pleasant. It's a crude purge potion, meant to encourage her body to reject anything foreign. That means she'll be throwing up quite a lot, so take this and make sure you hold it where she can vomit. Hopefully some of the disease will come up with it." Healer Greengrass ladled out some brownish liquid, and looked at Severus expectantly. Severus nodded and positioned himself to her approval. Without further ado, the woman efficiently tilted Anna's head and poured the potion into her slack mouth.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Sirius found it damnably easy, now that Chateau Malfoy was mostly vacant, to creep down the ghostly corridors he'd dwelt in for the summer and sneak to the Blue Room. There was only ringing silence, and so far the only person he'd seen and easily avoided was Greengrass, who was sitting in one of the small sitting rooms alone, staring morosely at the flickering shadows on the wall and wringing a piece of her robe fiercely. She's Anna's friend, I think. She must be worried for Anna. Sirius' stomach twisted, but he ignored it. Right now his primary objective was to find Snape and Anna. The old groundskeeper, the creepiest man Sirius had ever had the unfortunate luck to meet, had told him to go to the Blue Room. The infirmary. Just what had happened to Anna? Sirius was beginning to regret obeying Severus' command not to do anything about the attack.
But now he was facing the closed door to the Blue Room, and he didn't know if the Mediwitch or anyone else was in there or not, or even if the old man had set a trap for him—he wouldn't put it past that crazy groundskeeper. But the fact remained that he had no other viable option. Sirius reached for the door handle.
"What happened?" He nearly screamed before remembering his supposed stealth and hissing angrily instead.
It was just Snape, Snape wearily sitting slumped over the prone, tucked in body of a girl he knew all too well. Anna.
"She wasn't supposed to be injured. She got in the way of a particularly Dark curse meant for her father. The Dark Lord was here earlier, chewing Rosier Sr. out for having sullied and injured the object he wanted to use for a ritual," Severus responded dully, pulling himself slightly upright. "We still don't know if she'll live, but she's stable enough to be moved right now. We need to get her back down and out. Healer Greengrass has distracted the Death Eaters and the others, but if the Dark Lord comes back…" he shivered—Sirius followed suit.
"Voldemort was here?"
"Don't say his name here, you dunderhead! It's dangerous, even with spells up!"
"Sorry." Sirius reached out and brushed away one brown curl from Anna's pale, closed face. Abruptly, he felt a suspicious lump growing in the back of his throat, accompanied by a burning fury that he focused on with relief. He would not cry, not over a girl and not in front of Snape! He squared his shoulders, looked up at his thin, angular companion. "What's the plan?"
-x-x-x-x-x-
"Make sure whatever healer you find is discreet, and tell them that she was hit by Satan's Curse, and that she's been purged twice: once by spell, once by a crude potions mix. She has about four drops of Purification Potion in her system now, since that's all we could find." Sirius nodded his understanding, gently shifting Anna's weight from Levitation to his arms as he tried to ignore the mad gleam in the eye of the man observing them, particularly when it came to Severus. I wonder what Severus promised the demented fellow in order to secure his help? Sirius hoped it wasn't too bad a price. Severus didn't even have a safe haven to go back to like Sirius did.
Taking a step back, Severus gestured formally for Sirius to go ahead.
"Thanks, Snape. You can trust me—you've done your part, now it's my turn to do mine. And you don't have to worry about the Aurors or someone barging in, or James or the others and the feud during school. It's silly anyway, and we're almost seventeen, and I owe you that much, yeah? I'll see you back in school. Give Rosier a kick in the ass for me," Sirius grinned despite his anxiety about Anna, and then turned and stepped into the green flames. "Godric's Hollow, Potter Residence." And he was gone.
-x-x-x-x-x-
"Oi!"
"Dear Merlin…"
"What happened, Padfoot?"
"Let me through, boys—"
The Potter Residence was in upheaval. Sirius looked pleadingly at James' parents as he clutched Anna to his rapidly beating heart, feeling the unnatural heat of her feverish, sweaty skin burning through her clothes and his. "Mister Potter, please, you have to help her…"
"James, move aside please." Henry Potter gently pushed his wide-eyed son to the side, approaching Sirius. "Could you lay her down on the sofa please, young Sirius?"
He lowered the limp girl onto the cushions slowly, feeling an unexpected rush of loss as her body left the cradle of his arms. Gods, Anna, what did they do to you? I swear, I'll hunt them down and kill them one by one for doing this, for causing you pain. Even if it takes me years. I'll join the Aurors. I'll join the fabled Order if they let me in. I'll manage it somehow. I promise.
"Mary, would you call St. Mungo's—"
"No! Snape said, Snape said to be discreet. We can't let her go to St. Mungo's, the Death Eaters will find her and finish the job, or just take her back to France, and we'd never see her again!" Sirius panicked, grabbing onto Anna's hot hand.
Glancing at each other, some unspoken message passed between the married couple that James only vaguely knew meant Something Significant, and the other boys missed completely. "Madison?"
"Madison," Henry agreed. "Don't worry about your friend, Sirius," he added as Sirius' head moved back and forth between Anna Nott and Mary Potter, who had dashed out, presumably to Floo-call in the next room. "Madison is the best private Healer there is in all of Britain, and she places a heavy emphasis on privacy—most of her clientele are Purebloods who can't afford to let any information of their health issues leak for fear of a coup or being replaced in the hierarchy, or something worse."
Sirius simply nodded, and went back to chafing Anna's hand helplessly, staring at the motionless girl. Come on Anna, you have to get better. I'll never forgive myself if you don't.
"Is this the girl?" A new voice entered the scene, and Sirius looked up feverishly to see a tall, Indian woman—husky throated, dusky-skinned, and with serious dark eyes stepped in, walking briskly over to the sofa where Anna lay. "Boy—you were the one who rescued her?"
"I, uh—yeah?"
"Do you know what caused her condition, and what her vital stats are?"
"Um, Sn—I mean, I heard from someone pretty reliable that Anna was hit by something called Satan's Curse?"
If it was possible, Sirius felt more dread as the Healer's large eyes widened and she hissed through her teeth. "Damn these Pureblooded feuds," she muttered angrily, striding the last few steps to drop her black bag on the floor and kneel swiftly beside the unconscious girl. A wand slipped from her sleeve pocket was soon extracting a glowing series of symbols and numbers in the air before them, but they faded and were replaced before Sirius could begin to even interpret them. The new markings faded quickly too, and the Healer—Healer Madison?—shook her head in dismay.
"What? Will she—will she get better?" Sirius asked desperately.
Lovely eyes fringed with long lashes turned to him with no hint of anything but soberness. "Her life hangs in balance at the moment, boy. Satan's Curse is considered by most Purebloods the Darkest of curses, the ultimate unforgivable but not considered by law Unforgivable—only because it fell out of favor long ago. Satan's Curse is not just a spell-wound. It rends a hole in the person's magical make-up, like a rip in a net, and plants a disease—some call it the devil's disease—in the core of your magical being. Thus, like an insidious weed, it begins to infect your entire magical nature from the inside, and eventually it eats through the entire magical essence. Witches and wizards are intrinsically magical beings, and to have that part of their self taken away would be like cutting out a lung, or a heart, or liver. Without your magic, you would first become a Muggle and then die of shock within a few hours."
"Is there…nothing we can do to help Anna?" quavered Sirius, his voice cracking.
Healer Madison looked at him sympathetically. "I can try, boy. No more than that—only try. The Healer who began my work for me is very talented. The girl is stabilized, and will be for maybe another twelve, fifteen hours before the disease within her grows once more big enough to attack the girl again. You will have to give me a room for the girl, and I will need all of your help." She ran a piercing, evaluating eye over everyone crowded around the sofa.
"Mary, would you be as good as to prepare a place for this young patient? You, boy, can carry the girl—no levitation please, I don't want to aggravate the curse by performing magic on her—and Henry, I don't care how you do it, I need you to procure as much Mortis Purgo as you can. You two, over there—take the Floo, go to Devi House and bring back the large snake in the bedroom that you'll find, as well as the black leather trunk with gold clasps in the largest cupboard of the foyer. Hurry, bring them straight to me."
The living room burst into a hive of activity. As Mary flew upstairs to ready a room, Healer Madison gently stooped and pried two objects out of Anna's deathly grip. Sirius hadn't even noticed they were there. A slim wand and a bloodied red silver knife with an innocuous stamp on the hilt that marked it as having been made and sold by Destiny's Weaponry and Tools. Healer Madison placed them with care in a small bag she retrieved from a pocket in her robes, and motioned to Sirius to pick Anna up and follow her. Sirius gently eased his arms back around Anna's pallid frame, lifting her with the utmost care and following the healer up to the makeshift hospital room. Gods and goddesses, whoever or whatever is out there, make Anna better, let her get better…
-x-x-x-x-x-
"Are ye ready for secret-keeping then, young Snape?"
Brushing the soot from his hands and turning to face Elphard, Severus noted with unease that the old man was practically dancing with glee, his malicious, small eyes sparking with madness and excitement. He has something up his sleeve, I'm sure of it. But really, it's too late to do anything about it. Resigned but cautious, Severus gave a curt nod. "Yes."
Beckoned closer, Severus swallowed and stepped forward as Elphard drifted towards him, reaching out almost lovingly to place his wrinkled-date hands lightly on Severus' bony shoulders. He leaned forward to nearly brush his lips against Severus' ear, and Severus tried not to shiver at the sensation as the man began to speak.
"The Blood sacrifice wards are set by…"
-x-x-x-x-x-
He was being immolated, he was burning, screaming, writhing in a parody of a lover's passion, and the fire was an attractive blond-haired boy with the eyes of an angel and the smile of Satan was holding him down, holding him to the funeral pyre, and his blood was hissing and sizzling up in smoke to the gods, and beyond the jumping flames that swamped his vision and seared his flesh like the hand of the fallen angel that refused to let him go, his sister was imitating him, shrieking as a dark shadow with no face took her on the ground in a pool of red, red of her blood, red of her heart, red of the fire, and he was burning, burning, burning—
Jolting up, Severus threw himself out of bed, flinging himself at the door in a panic, a strangled shout making it's way out of his throat. He had nearly opened the door of his room and fled when his ordinary senses filtered back into being and he felt the cool metal of the doorknob, saw the perfectly normal surroundings of a tidy and impersonal bedroom, rumpled and tangled sheets on the floor beside his bed and pillows at the foot instead of the head. And no fire or anything to fear of in sight.
Still, Severus grabbed his wand and cast several spells to make sure there was no curse set on him or his room, and then magically dumped a bucket of ice-cold water on himself. The ice water cut through his woolen dread and brought him back firmly to reality. There is no fire. I am not burning. I don't have a sister, and I refuse to let Rosier appear in my dreams with that much power over me. I'm not burning, I'm not burning…and indeed, as if to prove his point, Severus was beginning to shiver uncontrollably from the effects of the cold water.
With trembling hands, Severus remade his bed, dripping as he went, not bothering to dry himself. But when it was neat again and the bedclothes all picked up, he couldn't find the courage or willpower to get back in and try to go back to sleep. So instead, he sat at his desk and stared straight ahead, willing himself to forget the vivid nightmare-memory. Damn you, Elphard. Damn you to hell and back, for doing this to me, for enjoying corrupting me further, which I did not think possible. The knowledge of the Blood wards eats away at me, and you knew it, knew that by passing the secret to me so that it would remain alive in human memory you yourself could forget and pass the burden on. I will never be free of it, never be free of the secret you have placed in my keeping. May you rot in Satan's own fire with your very own personal fallen angel to tend to you and make sure you suffer exquisitely for the knowledge of your damning secret.
-x-x-x-x-x-
Anna hovered around death for over two weeks. The first five days had been a frenzy as the Potters petitioned, and successfully won, the right to guardianship of Anna and Healer Madison worked feverishly to save her life. Sirius learnt that Healer Madison was from India, Pureblood in the sense of the word (and, according to the woman, of the highest caste, a far more formidable label in her native land) who had emigrated to England sixteen years ago to defy her family and pursue a career in Healing (they had wanted her to go into law, a much more respected profession). Madison was her English name, since she'd found that her given name was undecipherable and unpronounceable and completely bewildering to normal British patients, let alone panicked people trying to summon a Healer.
"It is much easier for people to remember Healer Madison than Healer Jayashri Vasundhara during an emergency," she'd commented with a wry twist of her sensuous lips during one of the lulls between the intermittent bustle of activity as Sirius sat vigil over Anna and the Healer sat and absently stroked her familiar. The snake—Amrita, an enormous king cobra, would have put Sirius on edge at the way it casually lay across Healer Madison's lap and flickered its tongue, muscled body flexing whenever it moved sinuously at its owner's orders, if Sirius hadn't already been exhausted past endurance by then. But although he felt uneasy around the large, venomous snake, Sirius also felt profoundly grateful to it because it was on the sixth day that Amrita's concentrated venom finally rooted out the 'devil's disease' and destroyed it completely so it could not continue to gnaw away at Anna's magical essence. It took a combination of Amrita's venom, rare potions, balms, and an assortment of spells Sirius didn't recognize, some in Healer Madison's native tongue, but the sixth day they finally succeeded in eradicating the insidious disease.
Sirius had spent most of that time by Anna's bedside, and then continued hovering as Anna's life lay in the precarious balance between death and life. No one knew if she would succumb to the devastation the devil's disease had wrought, or if her magical self would be able to heal enough for her to recover in the physical plane as well. Even Healer Madison professed that she had no presumptions, since Anna's was a unique case. There had never been another victim of Satan's Curse that had not died a horrific death, or taken the less painful route by committing suicide or asking a loved one to do the job for them but one, undocumented legend of a man who had somehow survived the shock of losing the magic vital to his existence and somehow lived on as a full Muggle. That being said, there hadn't been a case of Satan's Curse being cast at all for over a century, and Healer Madison also had no explanation for why Anna remained in a coma as the days stretched on.
"Initially she would have been unconscious as the curse took hold," she said gravely to Henry and Mary Potter on the night of the fifteenth day since Anna had been rescued. "But she should have woken up once the disease took firm root. My only hypothesis is that the healer who treated Miss Nott gave her something to keep her asleep to preserve her energy levels so that the disease would have to work harder to deplete the magical resources and her body had more resistance to it. Whoever managed to force the girl into her first plateau of stability most likely saved her life, if she lives—it bought me enough time to devise a plan of attack and gave me some innovative insight into a different approach to this ancient curse. Now—well, now, I believe that Miss Nott's body is in the process of mending and healing itself and taking all her focus and energy to do so, leaving none for the girl to wake up. She will either heal enough to wake up or she will quietly slip away one night, and at this point there is nothing we can do except pray to Shiva and Kali for their aid."
So Sirius waited, desperately, running on little sleep and hope rapidly dwindling as each new day brought no significant changes, not even in the readings of Anna's vitals. "But we can't be certain that the information that appears when I use the diagnostic spells is what is true," Healer Madison reminded him on the sixteenth day. "Her magical frame is most likely wildly out of whack and the things the spells test for may not be accurate of her health anymore."
On the sixteenth day, Healer Madison returned back to her own home and left Anna to the by now expert care of the Potters and Sirius. School was approaching rapidly—it was, in fact, August 29th now, and the term started on September 2nd. Remus had gone home five days ago, but Sirius had vowed never to return to the house his parents owned. Instead, he'd leaned on Regulus until his brother reluctantly shoved Sirius' clothes and things into a haphazard mess inside a trunk with enlarged insides that the Potters had loaned him and sent it over to James' house, telling him with vitriol never to come back and further embarrass the Black legacy again. No problem, Reg, I never want to see the inside of that disgusting house ever again.
"It's no problem at all. We've always seen you as another son," Mary Potter had assured him when he had first approached them tentatively with the question heavy on his lips and heart.
"You are welcome to stay for as long as you need," Henry Potter had declared when Sirius continued to thank them both profusely.
"Awesome, mate," was James' comment, and Remus had only looked slightly wistful as he reluctantly Floo'd back to his own quiet home. Sirius found that he missed Remus much more than he expected when his peacemaking friend left. James was always fun to be around, and sure to be the first to back you up, a true friend to the core, but Remus was simply easier and more peaceful to be around now because he didn't ask.
As Sirius sat vigil at Anna's bedside, Remus had often sat vigil with Sirius, not asking question upon question about Anna, Snape, or his summer at Chateau Malfoy. It was curiously restful, not feeling put upon to answer people. Even Henry and Mary were often too much like their own son, insatiably inquisitive—all for his own good, of course, but Sirius just wanted some silence and shared companionship with someone who wouldn't judge or feel the urge to do something heroic. James' family was into playing the hero—Sirius had wanted to be like that, to be like James the shining boy. Now, he was grateful for the soft, peaceful Remus and the calmness that his friend evoked, and more than once he found himself more inclined to tell Moony things he hadn't mentioned to either James or his parents.
The conditions of his Blood Oath was one thing Sirius did not tell anyone, most especially not Moony. It would devastate his best friend if he thought that Sirius had been blackmailed and yanked around in the name of protecting Remus. But oh, Moony, you don't understand—our friendship—the four of us—is too precious for me to betray or lose, and if I didn't do everything I could to protect my brothers, what kind of person would I be? This summer has only reinforced how lucky I am, to have you and James and Peter to support me no matter what. Some people don't have that…Sirius' mind wandered to Severus, who must still be enduring the despicable Rosier, and Anna, who had never had a friend she could trust without some sort of oath or binding in place.
I'll show you what true friendship is like, trust and all, if you'll just wake up, Sirius promised Anna, gazing at her in her deceptively peaceful repose. James is confused but willing to give you a chance, and he's the best friend you could have in fight or fun. Lily will love you just for being another girl in the group of guys. Remus already counts you as a friend because he sees how much you mean to me, even though he doesn't know you at all. Peter will probably be awkward around you for a while because you're new and Peter hates change, but he'll get over it and he'll try real hard to get over it for us. That's what friends are like, Anna. You have five of them waiting for you to wake up—well, six if you count Snape, although I don't know what he considers himself with respect to you.
Sirius picked up the book he'd been reading to Anna last night. It was something he'd found lying around the Potter bookshelves, and Healer Madison had mentioned that there was a Muggle concept that people in comas could still hear you. "I hope you weren't too bored today, Anna," he began, leafing through the pages until he came to where he had stopped. "James got irritated with me for being 'mopey over an unconscious body,' his words exactly, and dragged me to Diagon Alley to get books and supplies for the school year. I got you your stuff as well, you'll be needing it when you get better." Sirius stubbornly ignored the sneering voice that unfortunately, sounded like Snape, whispering, what if she just never wakes up?
"Here we are, this is where I left off last night I believe." Sirius took out the bookmark, and cleared his throat.
"Where dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a leafy island
Where flapping herons wake
The drowsy water rats;
There we've hid our faery vats,
Full of berrys
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.
Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim gray sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles—"
Sirius broke off abruptly as a tiny voice, hoarse with disuse, took over.
"While the world is full of troubles
And anxious in its sleep,
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand—"
And Sirius, heart a great lump in his throat and eyes stinging with shock and relief and joy, finished the verse with Anna together as she smiled weakly at his from the bed, pale as the sheets but with a sparkle of life in her eyes.
"For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand."
"Yeats," Anna murmured, closing her eyes and taking a carefully measured breath.
"Anna…" at a loss for words, Sirius could only drop the book with its unfinished poem and grasp for the girl's hand again.
"How long, Sirius? How long have I been asleep?"
"Eighteen days here, and a night at the Malfoys before I came for you," Sirius replied softly.
Anna tried to get up. "School…"
Sirius quickly moved to gently press her back down. "Lie back down, Anna, you'll strain yourself that way! School starts in about four days, and you most certainly aren't going to start on time! You need time to recover and get some strength back…"
Huffing a tiny puff of air, Anna lay back down. "I'm sick of bed," she grumbled, her voice becoming stronger as she spoke.
"So you could…you were aware of what was going on around you?" Sirius asked curiously.
"No…well, not exactly." Anna furrowed her brow. She drew in another breath as she continued with some effort, "It was more like I was asleep and I knew that I was asleep and that something was wrong, but I couldn't wake up to find out what was wrong. And then just now, it was like I was dreaming my father reading me poetry—he used to read me a couple poems just before bed when I was younger, out of my mother's favorite poetry books—and then it was you reading, and I was awake." Anna tried smiling, but it was tremulous and broke an instant later as tears began to pour down her face and her countenance crumpled into utter despair. "Oh Sirius, my father…he…they…he…" she couldn't continue, struggling to heave in breaths as the sobs jerked their way out of her chest.
Awkwardly, Sirius knelt, and then wrapped his arms around her thin shoulders. It must have been the right thing to do, because Anna abruptly buried her face into his arm and clung on to him as if he were a life support, body shuddering as she grieved for her lost father.
As he patted her back and occasionally stroked her hair, lank from days of bed-rest and countless Scourgify spells which never did the job like the real thing, Sirius found himself reveling in the feel of Anna's soft form pressed trustingly against him, a warm body that seemed to fit perfectly within the circle of his arms…Damn it, Sirius, the girl watched her father die and just recovered from a generally fatal Dark curse! Stop being a stupid hormonal, emotional wanker and focus on being the friend you promised her you'd be if she woke up!
The petite girl had stopped shaking, and Sirius tentatively loosened his hold, sitting on the edge of the bed and observing Anna with concern. She was swollen-eyed, her nose was running, and her cheeks blotchy. "Here—" he snagged the box of tissues off the bedside table and offered it to her. She took several, blowing her nose and cleaning her face of the tearstains, and Sirius wet a wad of the tissues with some cool water, leaning forward to swipe carefully at her eyes and cheeks. "There," he declared with satisfaction, moving back a little.
"Thanks," she whispered, her voice barely above the hum of a light breeze. Sirius looked closely at her, and realized that Anna was exhausted, eyes drooping and body slumping into her pillows. Quickly, he rearranged her and her bedding so that she could lie comfortably.
"Go to sleep, Anna. I'll be here when you wake up," he murmured, watching as her eyes fluttered shut.
When he was absolutely certain that Anna was in a natural, restful sleep, Sirius snuck out and then tore down to the living room, where James and Mary and Henry Potter were playing Exploding Snap. "She woke up!"
Author's Notes
I am SO sorry. Has it really been this long since I updated? In the last three weeks, I've moved back home (which involves a day's traveling, jet lag, and a new continent), found a temporary job that feels like a lot more work than a temp job, and tried to come to terms with life post-college. I'm finally starting to acclimate, thank goodness!
The chapter title, "The Stolen Child," is the title of the Yeats poem that Sirius was reading to Anna when she woke up. He reads the first two stanzas—there are two more stanzas.