Chapter 20: The Last Ounce of Strength
The instant Ranca's words reached Scabior the ailing Snatcher's glazed eyes shot open, the cloth slipping off his forehead as he struggled to push himself up onto his elbows in bed. This action turned out to be a mistake as a deep stabbing pain tore though the muscles of his upper left arm, causing him to scream in agony as he collapsed onto his back in bed.
"Scabior, no!" Violet exclaimed. "What're you doing?"
"Ranca..." Scabior snarled, gritting his teeth against the pain in his arm.
Ranca ducked down out of sight behind the foot of the bed, both hands covering his head as he attempted to hide behind the trunk containing Scabior's collection of books and other personal belongings.
"I 'ave more than enough strength to apparate to Malfoy manor," Scabior hissed through his teeth, speaking more clearly this time. "Enough to kill you if I wanted to, Ranca!"
Violet gasped and took a few steps away from Scabior's bed. She'd never seen this side of him before, his eyes ablaze with a fierce inner strength that warned all within his reach to stand clear and not provoke him.
"Master, please," Ranca whimpered pitifully. "Please, I'm so sorry, boss."
"Shut it!" Scabior snapped harshly, now managing to sit upright in bed. He flung the covers off himself and staggered out of bed, still somewhat unsteady on his feet. His breathing had become labored and he appeared as though he were on the verge of collapsing again.
"Go tell the others they 'ave five minutes to pack their things before we leave for Malfoy manor," Scabior rasped, breathing heavily through his mouth as he removed his wand from a pocket in his jacket.
"But sir..." Ranca said, barely daring to speak for fear of provoking his master's wrath.
"Three minutes!" Scabior shouted, and Ranca bolted from the tent.
As soon as the Snatchers had magically packed their tents, supplies and belongings, Scabior took hold of Violet by the arm and prepared to dissapperate.
As he held her, Violet couldn't help but notice the intense heat radiating off Scabior's skin. He felt positively burning hot to the touch and he was swaying slightly where he stood, his eyes half closed again and glazed over.
"Scabior, are you sure you're well enough to do this?" Violet asked. "Maybe we should wait a while. I'm pretty good with herbs. I could look for some useful plants in the woods and try making a healing polultice for your arm."
"Don't talk to me right now, pet," said Scabior, his voice low and weary. "I 'ave to concentrate so I don't get myself splinched."
Violet reached around Scabior, her arm around his waist as she hugged his body close to hers.
Their eyes met as Scabior looked down at her, her eyes pleading with him more than words could ever say. She knew how stubborn and aggressive he became when he was ill, but that didn't stop her from wanting to help him in any way she could.
Scabior's eyes narrowed, his upper lip curling into a sneer as he glared at her.
"Please," Violet whispered, tightening her hold on him. "Let me help you."
"Fine," Scabior sighed. He released his hold on her, glancing around to make sure the others weren't watching as Violet wrapped his uninjured arm around her shoulders, supporting his weight and holding him steady.
"Thank you, sweet'eart," he whispered back just before vanishing from sight and taking her along with him.
Scabior was soon grateful for her hold on him, for as soon as his feet touched the gravel walkway outside of Malfoy manor he stumbled and almost fell, his injured ankle throbbing painfully from the rough landing.
The ailing Snatcher looked around, taking a minute to get his bearings before moving away from Violet and sliding out of her grasp.
"I'll walk, pet," he told her, already taking a few slow steps forward. "It's not far now. I can make it on my own from 'ere."
Violet looked worried and wasn't happy with his decision to walk the rest of the way. She would have felt better if Ranca had put him on the stretcher again. But since that option was definitely out of the question the only thing she could do was follow along close beside Scabior and remain alert for any sign that he was going to pass out again.
It wasn't far from the gravel walkway to the tall wrought iron gates that formed the entrance to Malfoy manor, only about a half mile or so along a flat path.
Scabior thought he could make it the rest of the way without assistance. After all he had managed to walk several miles from camp earlier that morning. But he was light headed and his sight was swimming, distorting his vision as the iron gates loomed before him, making the two inch thick bars appear to undulate in hazy waves of black fog as the edges of his vision began to darken.
Scabior groaned low in his throat. His body felt heavy, his legs didn't want to move as he forced himself to continue taking step after step forward down the path.
Through his clouded vision Scabior could just make out a figure standing by the gate. No doubt the wards around the manor had already alerted its owners their presence outside.
'Nearly there,' Scabior thought. 'Lucius or Narcissa...it must be one of them waiting up ahead."
Scabior swallowed hard. His mouth and throat were dry as he gasped and fought for breath. Something was wrong. It shouldn't be this difficult for him to breathe. Could it be that the infection was worse than he thought?
Violet was beside him, her voice frantically calling his name. But her words seemed to be coming from somewhere far away, muffled and distant. Scabior couldn't hear her. He didn't even realize that he had collapsed again.
"Violet..." he faintly murmured, trying in vain to reach out to her, his vision fading as he sunk deeper into blackness, into water, the heavy waves of shadow and heat pulling him under as the sunlight faded to absolute black, to nothingness...
Violet was in tears as Narcissa lowered Scabior's unconscious form onto the wide bed that occupied the corner of the guest bedroom. Ranca wrapped his arm around the sobbing witch, trying his best to comfort her. But it wasn't enough. She wanted to hear the sound of Scabior's voice, wanted to see him awake and well again. And so she continued to weep against Ranca's chest as he held her and rubbed her back in an effort to calm her.
Lucius entered the room a minute later, bringing with him the supplies necessary for treating Scabior's illness and infection.
"This is ridiculous," Lucius muttered shaking his head. "First of all Scabior knows better than to allow himself to become so seriously ill. Second, I would have preferred it he had been taken to St. Mungo's."
"We can treat him here, darling," Narcissa said, giving her husband a reassuring pat on the arm. "We just need to be quick about this before he gets any worse."
Lucius huffed out an irritated sigh. "That man belongs in the hospital! You weren't there the last time he was like this. You didn't see how the illness nearly overwhelmed his entire system."
"Lucius, calm yourself, please," Narcissa told her husband as she finished removing the last of the clothing on Scabior's upper body, leaving the head Snatcher in nothing but his boots and plaid pants. She neatly piled the garments on the floor beside the bed then carefully lifted Scabior's left shoulder off the mattress, placing a soft clean towel beneath his upper left arm and shoulder. "We'll do what we can for him, Lucius. He'll be fine. This isn't going to be like last time."
The truth of the matter was that Scabior was in the early stages of blood poisoning. Already his temperature had risen well above 103° and was continuing to climb. His pulse was rapid, and even lying unconscious in bed he was struggling to breathe.
Lucius sighed heavily in frustration. He seriously doubted that they'd be able to help Scabior, and it went against his better judgment to try treating the man here when he should have been taken to St. Mungo's.
Using a cutting hex Narcissa carefully opened the wound on Scabior's arm. Blood, along with a large amount of pus, began oozing from the wound, soaking into the surface of the towel Scabior was laying on.
Violet was watching now, her face stained with tears as she forced herself to remain calm. She watched as Lucius unstoppered a glass bottle filled with some sort of bright orange potion. He added a few drops of the potion to a bowl of water on the nightstand beside the bed. The surface of the water bubbled and hissed, emitting thin whisps of white smoke into the air for several seconds before becoming calm and still once again. The water then changed into a rich deep amber, matching the color of the potion in the bottle.
"We have to wait for the pus to drain before cleaning and disinfecting the wound," said Narcisa, wiping off the excess blood and infected material with a moist washcloth.
"Is this bothering you?" Ranca asked, looking down at Violet as he relinquished his hold on her since she was no longer crying or appeared in need of comfort. "We can wait outside if you want."
"No, I'm fine," Violet replied. "I want to stay here with Scabior."
"Alright then." Ranca took a few steps back and leaned his back against the wall. "I'll be right here if you need me."
As Violet continued to watch Narcissa flushed out the wound with the amber colored water, carefully cleaning and disinfecting the injury. She dressed the wound with fresh bandages. Then her husband stepped forward, carrying a bottle of royal blue potion in his hand, and pointed his wand at Scabior's chest.
"Rennervate," Lucius muttered quietly, and Scabior's eyes slowly opened.
Scabior groaned, blinking his eyes as he looked around the room in a daze.
Lucius pressed the potion bottle to Scabior's lips. "You need to drink this, Scabior," he said, one hand holding the bottle and the other hand behind Scabior's head, lifting his head a few inches off the pillow. "It'll help with your fever."
It took Scabior a moment to process Lucius' words in his mind and understand what he was hearing. Once he understood what was happening he gladly swallowed the potion before closing his eyes and falling asleep a minute later.
Lucius turned to his wife, a sly smirk on his face. "I snuck a few drops of sleeping potion in with the fever reducer. That ought to keep him out for a couple hours."
Narcissa looked as though she didn't approve of his actions. "I don't think that was necessary, Lucius."
"Trust me, it is necessary," Lucius insisted. "Like I said before, you weren't there the last time something like this happened. And I'd rather not listen to him screaming obscenities at us when we refuse to let him out of bed before he's fully recovered. Besides, the sleeping potion will help him get the rest he needs. So I'd say I'm doing him, as well as everyone within earshot of his overly loud and vulgar mouth, a favor by giving this to him."
Narcissa sighed and shook her head. She gathered up the potion bottles, the bowl which now contained only about half an inch of amber colored liquid, and the soiled towel. She then left the room, telling the others that she would return in a minute.
All was quiet for a moment after she left. Lucius then turned to Violet, narrowing his eyes as he cocked his head to the side, peering down at her with curiosity present in his expression.
"You look somewhat familiar," he said. "Tell me, have we met before?"
"No, sir, I don't think we have," said Violet, feeling a bit puzzled by his question. She was quite sure that she had never met Lucius before, but the look in his eyes clearly seemed to register some sort of familiarity with her even though she had no memory of him.
"What is your name?" Lucius asked.
"Stregheria, Violet Stregheria."
Lucius raised his eyebrows as his expression brightened. "Ah yes, the Stregherias. Now I remember. My wife and I used to visit your family several years ago. You were just a small child at the time. Perhaps you were too young to remember our visits."
The door opened as Narcissa walked back into the room, carrying a bowl of cool water and a washcloth.
"Lucius, would you please show our guests where they'll be staying?" she asked as she draped the damp cloth over Scabior's forehead. She waved her wand over Scabior's bed, causing the blanket to slide out from under him and cover his feverishly warm body from the waist down. Another wave of her wand and Scabior's boots joined the neat pile of clothing on the floor. "Sugar is already waiting in the hall to help our guests with their things once they're in their rooms."
"Sugar?" Violet queried.
"She's our new house elf," Lucius explained. "Since our old elf was...er, prematurely withdrawn from service, if you will, we've had to purchase a new elf. She's a rare and expensive breed called a - " his lip curled in mild disgust as he said the word, "candytuff."
Narcissa put a hand over her mouth and giggled.
"My wife insisted on purchasing her," Lucius continued. "Apparently women like elves of the candytuff variety because of their supposedly cute appearance."
"Are they really that cute?" Violet asked.
Lucius took a few steps back and opened the door leading out into the hallway. There in the hall stood a small elf with pale pink skin, large eyes containing deep blue irises, and a small whispy tuft of thin pink hair on her head.
The house elf's large ears perked up as soon as Lucius opened the door, and she gazed fondly at him, eagerly awaiting her next order.
Violet looked down at the elf and a wide smile spread across her face. "Oh my gosh! She's adorable!"
The house elf blushed, her pale pink cheeks turning rosey red. "Thank you, ma'am," she squeaked in her high delicate voice. "You're very kind."
Violet turned her attention back to Narcissa and asked her if she could stay in the same room as Scabior. Narcissa approved of the idea, as did Ranca, and before long Sugar was helping unpack Scabior's belongings as Violet settled in for a long night in Malfoy manor.