In retrospect, it would have been a better idea to owl away for a carriage. For two solid hours, Severus had been pushing his wheelchair through the sparsely populated streets in the outskirts of the surrounding villages in hopes of passing an open floo bonfire set by rebellious teens. His energy dwindled dangerously. Arms burning, vision fading at the edges, he pressed on until he'd spotted a late running owlery. For years, his expenses had been drafted out of his retirement pension from Hogwarts, so he'd never needed to withdraw coins for outside reasons. He'd been alerted by the shine of a couple of sickles mixed into some leaves in a gutter and it was just enough to send one message through. Strangely enough, it wasn't to call a carriage, but he viewed it as important all the same.
"I'll have this sent out right away." the messenger clerk promised, tying off the scroll to a large tawny owl. "We're, ah… about to close up for the night. Is there someone coming to pick you up? Do you need an apparation-assist to Saint Mungo's?"
Yes, Severus was still in patient attire and it made him stick out quite a bit. All the same, he absolutely did not want to return to Saint Mungo's. He shook his head tiredly.
"No. But if you would not be opposed to it, there is somewhere else I would like to be transported." Severus replied, ashamed to ask for help even if he needed it badly.
Certainly he would never take a complete stranger directly to his personal home, but apparating down the block from it would do well enough. After assuring the young man that this was indeed where he'd intended to end up, he bid him good evening and promised to send in a good review to the owlery supervisor to return the favor. He hated feeling indebted, after all.
Most of the streetlights lining the roadways of Spinner's End were broken or shot out, but Severus could have navigated the dingy pathways in his sleep. He was about to turn the knob on the door to his home when a cane cracked down on the back of his chair and yanked him backwards from his sanctuary.
"I knew you'd end up here, I juuuust knew it." Sir Padmoore chuckled softly. "Creatures of habit do fall back on the most questionable things. WELL. Your three-month contracted period is up, so if you'd like to quit, legally, I can't stop you. I'm glad that you didn't quit whilst in my program, because I have to keep my success rates up, you know. But I'm afraid that wheelchair is the property of our clinics, and I just can't let you scoot away with it, old bean."
The healer snorted a quiet laugh and tipped the chair so that Severus would crumple hard to the ground. With an angry curse, Severus swiped a hand out at Sir Padmoore's ankle, hoping to drag him down to his level for a fight, but in his weakened state he was not fast enough. Sir Padmoore grinned and began cheerfully walking away with the chair.
"I'll let you keep the clothes, Mr. Snape. A parting gift. Don't say I never did anything for you!" he called over his shoulder.
For a few seconds, Severus rested his head against the wood of his front door, panting with effort. The chilled air blew over his sweat beaded face and sent a shiver running through his chest. He had to get into the house before he passed out. It took everything he had, but he knocked on the correct bricks, turned the knob the correct amount of times, and whispered the password to open up his flat. He crawled in on his hands and elbows, shoved the door closed, and immediately blacked out on the floor.
Blearily, Severus opened his eyes to mere slits. He'd expected coldness, aching muscles, and darkness. Surely he would have slept straight through to the next evening, but it was midday at best. Perhaps his strength had improved more than he thought. And when had he made it into his bed? A small cough alerted him to the presence of another in his home.
"Who's there?!" he demanded angrily.
A house elf who'd been carrying a tray of soup and milk squeaked in fear, and cowered behind the door frame of Severus' bedroom. Bulbous eyes were wide with shock, but eventually the creature stepped cautiously forward.
"I… I was sent f-from Hogwarts? By Headmistress, sir! She is wanting me to keep an eye on you until she gets here." the elf whispered anxiously. "You were waking… so I made you some lunch."
"Professor McGonagall sent you? How did she know I was here? And did you clean? This house has been vacant for years! There should be dust! What did you touch?!" Severus snapped.
Naturally he was furious that someone he was not acquainted with had been let into his home, but as he went to throw his hands in the air with disgust, he found that he could scarcely budge them. Now he was angry for an additional reason. Immobility. Again.
"I didn't move anything! Only dusting and wiping down and making the bed fresh is all! Creely promises!" the elf cried earnestly. "Headmistress looked for you when you goes missing from your healers! You goes missing for three days before she finds you! That was seven days past, sir… Creely took care of you at Headmistress' request. Sir nearly froze to death…"
Ten days. He'd been out for ten days. No wonder he couldn't move. His eyes burned, threatening tears of frustration over losing his progress. Who knew how long it would take to get back to where he'd been on his own! Severus refused to cry in front of the house elf, though, and regretfully allowed the small being to assist in feeding him. The crackling fire in the grate gave off a pleasant warmth. He was thankful not to have been conscious during the cold evenings which had nearly snuffed away his life, but it was a misery to think that he'd lost so much valuable time.
It was not until the next evening that Minerva was able to come by. A Sunday, Severus calculated. Probably she'd had to stay onsite at the school the previous day to handle any issues from a Hogsmeade outing. It gave him time to think about what he would say, and how he would reason out his choice for leaving. The way the Headmistress worked, it was quite unclear what to expect. She would either be heavily sympathetic or unreasonably furious if he had to guess. He'd come to find that he could clench and unclench his fists, but that was the extent of his capabilities for the time being. As it was the only thing he could do, he kept practicing until he could lift his wrists by a fractional amount, but even that was exhausting.
"You couldn't send an owl to have someone come and get you? What were you thinking? You could have died, Severus!" she snapped.
"I am well aware that it was not perfectly thought out. Circumstances arose that prompted swift action." Severus replied, allowing the woman to assist in his drinking a cup of tea. "I found out that Madam McNair gave Sir Padmoore all of Lily's information, and if you'll excuse me, I'm tired of being the world's punching bag."
Completely contrary to what he'd assumed would happen, the Headmistress kept a passive expression. She sat the teacup on his bedside table with a soft clink and shook her head. This was not news to her. She'd obviously looked into the situation.
"Madam McNair owled me the morning after you left, asking if I'd seen you. Lucius Malfoy's coachman confirmed that you'd been dropped off at the clinic. Sir Padmoore was not available for questioning. He was holed up in his own clinic somewhere and did not respond to queries from either the staff or myself. Both clinics had to be shut down entirely for two days by the Ministry of Magic because they'd received an anonymous owl suggesting that child abuse was something of a concern and it prompted an investigation. I don't suppose you know anything about that?" Minerva prompted, only receiving a self-satisfied smirk in response. "At any rate, by the time we'd thought to check here, you were barely alive."
Severus would never admit to sending an owl on Lotus' behalf. Anyone who asked would be met with a scoff and an impressive eye roll. As much as the girl irritated him, she'd been a great deal of help in his recovery. She was untainted with knowledge of his previous life, so she treated him with the same curiosity and eagerness that might be shown towards a new friend in the making. He found that he loathed her less and less each day. She didn't deserve to be burned.
"After speaking with Amelia and Madam McNair, it seems that Sir Padmoore had led everyone to believe that knowing more about Lily was listed as part of your psyche evaluation so that he could determine the level of your depression and anxiety factors. Polyjuice Potion was to be used as a last resort, but Madam McNair fully admitted to knowing of the possibility of his using it. As Amelia told you, she views it as part of the other clinic's procedures and while she doesn't promote it, she will not apologize for her part in it." she continued. "As appalling as that is… you should go back. Finish the program and then be angry about it. You'd made so much progress. I've requested that they keep the room open for you at least a little longer."
"You're joking." Severus scoffed. "I'll figure it out on my own."
"No. No you won't. You can be as cross with me as you like, but when we signed off on my being your medical proxy, it deemed me able to make decisions on your behalf when you are compromised. Making the choice to run off and spend ten days blacked out has compromised you." Minerva sniffed. "You will be returning this evening. I am capable of understanding how difficult it is for you, but right now you will need to set aside your pride and finish what you've started. Whether you like it or not. You'll thank me later."