Twenty-One
With a deep, exhausted sigh John sank back against the pillows, mopping his sweaty brow with the sleeve of his pyjama and trying to regain his breath. How he loathed these exercises, how he hated having to repeat the same boring movements over and over again, forcing his uncooperative muscles to follow the instructions of the physiotherapist, a blonde Valkyrie of a woman, whose professional cheerfulness and booming voice he absolutely detested. However, being perfectly aware of the fact that the loathsome exercises were a means of recovering his strength and mobility, John always gritted his teeth and dutifully performed his daily routine. Today, on top of thirty painful minutes of gruelling gymnastics he had managed to walk the length of the ward twice, in the end mobilising his last resources in order to get back to his bed without collapsing in the corridor. Now he was drenched in sweat, his knees wobbly, his head dizzy, and his heart and mind immensely proud of having accomplished the task.
The sympathetic nurses had promised him a reviving cup of tea for his efforts and he was very much looking forward to that.
When the door opened he turned his head to smile in expectation of the nursing assistant, but the smile froze on his lips when he recognized one of the trainee healers who was, as he remembered from his memory-viewing sessions, a former student of his. One of those he had considered a pain in the neck – academically brilliant, but a nerve-racking know-it-all in the classroom. She had been at his bed before, together with the daily early morning entourage of healers and nurses, but she had never come to his room alone or spoken to him in private. What was she doing here now? John thought warily.
"Hello, Professor," she greeted him with a smile that was a spitting image of the physiotherapist's, and which therefore received a repudiating frown for an answer.
"Miss Granger, you must be perfectly aware of the fact that I am not to be addressed by that title or that name any more."
The young woman's smile remained unperturbed, even deepened at this remark; she put the cup of tea on his bedside table and sat down in the chair next to his bed.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't want to offend you, but for me you'll always be Professor Snape, the strict potions master of Hogwarts, even if you've changed your name and your identity."
He sighed. 'Always be Professor Snape' indeed. Obnoxious girl. Why couldn't she simply address him as 'John Smith', as all the others did? And what was she up to, settling down in his bedside chair as if for a long stay? He didn't want company now, he wanted to be left alone with his exhaustion and his cup of tea.
"Why are you here, Miss Granger?" he asked cautiously.
The healer's vexatious smile finally faded and, suddenly looking much less confident, she started working on her lower lip with her front teeth.
"Well, Prof…, oh, alright, Mr Smith, actually, first of all I'd like to say thank you."
His eyes narrowed. Say 'thank you'? Whatever for? He certainly had never done anything for this girl.
"Thank you for what? The knowledge you acquired in my brilliant lessons?"
"No. I mean, ...yes, of course. I learned a lot in your lessons..."
His sarcastic snort made her stop und lose track, the self-confidence she had displayed on entering the room seemed to be vanishing by the minute. Her fingers started pleating her robes.
"There's something else I have to thank you for, Sir. What we learned from your memories…or rather, what Harry learned and told us…All the sacrifices you made...And all the time you were working so hard to protect us. And we never noticed, we had no idea of your real character, we even believed you evil through and through…And then you were dead, ...I mean, we believed you dead, and no one could tell you how much we appreciated what you had done. I'm so sorry, Prof…Sir."
John closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, praying for patience. When he opened his eyes again, they were calm and expressionless.
"Miss Granger, there is no need for your developing qualms about my past well-being. What I did was part of my obligations towards Dumbledore and..." he hesitated briefly, exhaling loudly before continuing, "Lily Evans. In fact, I didn't have much of a choice."
"You could have stayed on the Dark Side. Or returned to Voldemort…"
"I didn't," he simply said.
"You must have been so lone…"
"Miss Granger!" There was a dangerous undertone in his voice now. "Don't wallow in the atrocities of the past. It is over. I don't want to be judged by whatever I did in this former existence as Severus Snape. I've had the chance of starting a new life, and I intend to use it."
He glared at her and the young woman met his eyes, frowning.
"Does that mean you won't return to our world, that you'll remain John Smith and live as a Muggle?" she asked incredulously.
He sighed and stared at her. Why on earth did she care? Wearily he ran a hand over his face.
"I don't know, Miss Granger. I haven't decided yet. And, anyway, what business is it of yours?"
"Perhaps you don't have to decide."
His eyes narrowed. What was the girl up to now? She clearly was uncomfortable, there was not much of the self-confident know-it-all left. He almost felt sympathetic.
She took a deep breath and fidgeted in her chair.
"Well, you see, Sir, you can belong to both worlds. We Muggleborns do. I was a witch at Hogwarts with all my heart, 100 percent..."
"Really?"
He exaggerated the sarcasm in his voice, his mouth twitched and she smiled back at him, realizing that he was teasing her.
"Oh, yes, absolutely. But in the holidays, with my parents, I was a Muggle."
He saw a brief shadow pass over her face and the question came without thinking.
"What happened to your parents, Miss Granger? Are they dead?"
She shook her head with a wry smile.
"No, they live. But I altered their memories and sent them to Australia during Voldemort's reign. And, well, something must have gone wrong with the spell I used, it can't be reversed. They are perfectly well and happy, they just don't remember having a daughter."
"I'm sorry."
The young woman looked up and stared at him wide-eyed. Then she laughed, shaking her head.
"So it's true, Sir. You do have changed."
He gave her a questioning frown.
"I'm sure, you would never have said that you were sorry for someone in your old life, Sir."
He swallowed hard. So here it was again, Severus Snape, the callous bastard. With a deep breath he tried to drive the thought away.
"From what I know about your past, Miss Granger, I'm convinced that you would rather have bitten off your tongue than admit making a mistake with a spell, wouldn't you?"
She looked taken aback for a moment, but then smiled.
"Oh! Well, yes, maybe you're right."
John pressed the balls of his hands against his eyes. He suddenly felt immensely tired.
"So you came here to tell me that it is possible to be at home in both worlds, Miss Granger?" he asked, his voice hoarse.
"Yes, Sir. And nowadays it's even easier than before the war. There's no discrimination against Mudbloods anymore."
He cringed at the word. She didn't notice and went on.
"The ceremony of Secrecy has been in high demand recently, and not only because of you."
He couldn't help smiling wryly. Sister Mary Claire had taken the oath, of course, together with one or two of the other nuns who had insisted on visiting John in hospital.
The girl continued, using the fingers of her left hand to emphasize her enumeration of the positive development of the wizard-Muggle relationship.
"The Ministry of Magic has started to cooperate with the Muggle government more than ever before. They hold regular conferences once a month. Muggle studies has become one of the most important subjects at Hogwarts. It is compulsory for all students and they have recruited a second teacher. At the Healing Academy they teach Muggle methods like vaccination, cancer treatments and all kinds of surgery alongside the traditional magical ways of healing. In turn, there are wizards and witches teaching at medical schools. Muggles aren't able to perform spells, of course, but they can brew and use certain potions. St Mungo's in London has started cooperating with several Muggle hospitals and they're planning to do the same here in Edinburgh. So you see..."
He held up his hand to stop the flow of words.
"Yes, Miss Granger, I see. What I don't see is your point. What, in your opinion, does all that have to do with me?"
"But don't you understand, Sir, if the two communities come together, living as a wizard in a Muggle environment or vice versa is no problem. You can stay at the convent, go on working for them and yet become a wizard again. Or you could return as Severus Snape and keep up your contact with the nuns and with…"
"You seem to be quite sure that I want to live as a wizard, Miss Granger."
"But, Sir..."
He laughed mirthlessly.
"I can't do magic anymore."
"Perhaps not at the moment, but it's still there, deep inside you. All you have to do is acquire a wand and learn the spells and the movements again."
"I have lived without spells and wands for three years, Miss Granger, and I have managed perfectly well. I don't think I need magic."
"It is useful, you know. Without magic you would most probably be dead now."
He grimaced, knowing that she was right. Magic had saved his life. Wizards had gone out of their way to save his life. Did they expect him to show his gratitude by returning into the wizarding fold?
"Miss Granger, I'm grateful for what you and your colleagues have done for me. But I don't think I'll want to use magic again myself."
"But, Sir, it would be such a waste. You were a powerful wizard..."
The pained expression on his face made her stop. John turned his head and stared out the window, swallowing hard. There it was again. The fear. It started in the pit of his stomach and engulfed him like a giant wave, threatening to drown him. He had changed, the girl herself had said so five minutes ago. He wanted to stay like this, he didn't want to have his old personality back. And he was afraid that waking the magic that lay dormant deep inside him would do just that. Change him back into Severus Snape, make him lose everything he had worked for these last three years. His new life, his friends, Vivian; he didn't want to swap them for magic, however useful.
Slowly he turned his head and looked at the girl who was watching him closely. His first impulse was to throw her out, send her on her way with a few well-phrased stinging remarks. But there was something in those brown eyes that stopped him. Something he would have called 'pity' and sneered at in his former life; something he had often seen at the convent and had learned to identify as real concern and empathy. She was trying to be kind, to help him. She didn't know about his fears and doubts. He swallowed again, and instead of pulling the reed stop of sarcasm he opted for the more moderate diapason of conciliation.
"I'm sorry, Miss Granger, I'm feeling rather tired. I'll think about your arguments. Thank you for coming, but now I'd like to be left alone."
The healer looked as if she wanted to protest but thought better of it and nodded reluctantly.
John picked up the tea cup and handed it to her.
"Would you be so kind as to fetch me a new cup of tea? The one you brought is stone-cold by now, I'm afraid. No, Miss Granger," he intervened when he saw her reach for her wand, "don't try to reheat this one. There's nothing more disgusting than reheated tea with milk."
The healer looked at him, obviously at a loss for words. He met her eyes with the shadow of a smile. She shrugged and smiled back lopsidedly; taking the cold tea she got to her feet, turned and left the room.
John leaned back against the pillows with a deep, exhausted sigh.
Thanks to J.K. Rowling for letting me borrow characters and plot.