Author's note: See??? Proof that I'm still going, albeit rather slowly. Oh, and ObsessiveCompulsiveforHP, your turn! Thanks to my reviewers – all eleven or so of you. :)
Chapter 54 – I Won't
Previously –
"What's wrong, Poppy?" Molly asked anxiously. "It feels as though I've been called to the headmaster's office for a prank I didn't commit."
She wanted Poppy to tell her that of course nothing was wrong, and that she was just being paranoid, but neither of those reassurances came from the serious faced woman who was now seated across the desk from her.
Instead, there was a knock on the door.
. . .
"Could you get that dear? I'm nearly done here." Poppy asked Molly from where she was making tea.
With a small frown, Molly nodded and made her way to the door.
"Arthur!" She exclaimed in surprise, coming face to face with her own dear husband.
Her husband didn't speak, but instead rushed forwards to her; pulling her into his arms tightly. She held on to his strong frame tightly and shook with the fears she was unwilling to allow anyone else to see.
"Shh," he whispered in her ear, stroking her hair lovingly. "Shh. I should have never let you do this alone. He's our son. We can get him through this, but only if we do it together. Shh."
After a few moments, she heard Poppy's voice asking them to please take a seat, and she allowed Arthur to maneuver them into a set of chairs opposite of Poppy. She barely noticed it when Arthur handed her a cup of tea, fixed just the way she liked it.
It had been so long since she had seen Arthur; so long since she had allowed herself to let go of her fears and misery onto someone else—someone she knew was trustworthy. Arthur, for all of his quirks and quiet ways, really was her strength in their more desperate situations.
How could I have forgotten that?
She drank some of her tea and then handed it back to her husband to be put down upon Poppy's desk, next to his own. Their hands now free, Arthur put an arm around her and drew up her next to his body; giving her a silent promise that he would help her get through this as much as he could—and then some.
Molly felt tears prick her eyes, but she stoically willed them away. Those could come later, when she knew what they were up against, but for now, she needed to focus.
. . .
Poppy looked at the haggard couple sitting before her with more than a touch of sorrow in her heart. Arthur was practically holding Molly upright as the woman leaned heavily into his side.
Arthur, on the other hand, looked positively dreadful as well. There were dark circles around his eyes, much like his youngest son's, and his skin was nearly gray with fatigue.
Poppy wondered if she was going to have to eventually spike their tea with something to get them to take a rest.
Later, she promised her mind.
Sighing, she put down her tea as well and looked up at the two Weasleys sadly.
"Now that your son is beginning to interact with the world around him once more, I thought it prudent to mention a few of our findings to you both," she said slowly, watching the couple across from her with more than a little wariness.
"Oh goody. More bad news; just what I always wanted," Molly mumbled against Arthur's side, before be shushed gently by the red haired man.
"I wish I could tell you otherwise, but you are correct, Molly," Poppy said.
"We're ready for it then, Poppy," Arthur said in a level voice.
Do you want the bad news or the really bad news first? Poppy's mind asked in a sarcastically bitter sounding voice.
"There is no telling whether or not Ronald will ever make a full recovery. Eventually his good days will likely outnumber his bad days, and yes, he might even begin to act like his so-called 'old self' again," she paused, waiting for a response.
"But?"
"When his bad days come, they will likely continue to be very bad indeed. At times, his flashbacks may make it hard for him to delineate between his past and reality as it is now.
"How bad have his flashbacks been?" Arthur asked in an almost whisper.
Here, Poppy exchanged a look with Molly before answering him.
Don't give him too many details, Molly's look had clearly communicated.
"Bad enough," Poppy said shortly, before being treated to a glare from Arthur.
She stifled her urge to sigh, and thought about how best to explain.
"One particularly traumatic flashback left the child vomiting for several hours. None of the potions or magic used on him did any good until his system was near collapse. At which point, I was able to put him into a restorative coma-like state; allowing us to rehydrate him, which eventually allowed him to recover." She said, explaining the how, but purposely leaving out the why.
"What kinds of trauma did he experience when he was missing from Hogwarts?" Arthur asked in a soft voice, piercing her in the heart with the concern she could see within his eyes.
Oh she did not want to answer this question!
"He was raped," she said finally in a flat voice, ignoring the expected twin gasps. "He was raped multiple times, by a multitude of different males; all in the course of only a few days time."
Times like this, I despise my job.
"Did," Molly asked thickly, her eyes no longer fighting the battle to remain open. "Did he know what was happening to him?" She asked, her body visibly trembling.
"From what we know from the actions he has exhibited here, it is likely that he did not know what was happening to him at the time. However," she warned, "now that his mind has regained much of its ability to process information, all that means is that he is now being forced to experience all of these sensations, all of these memories over again mentally—almost as though it were the first time."
"Sweet Merlin," Arthur whispered. His eyes were staring at a point on the wall just beside Poppy's head; as his shocked mind fought to understand the implications of her dire words.
Poppy stood up, ready with calming drafts for the both of them, just as Molly fainted. Poppy helped Arthur by levitating her to a bed in a private room, and then with a shrug, spelled him to sleep as well. She enlarged the bed, and then put him down next to his wife. She took off their shoes, and then transfigured their robes into pajamas, before covering them up with blankets.
She knew that they needed their energy if they were going to tackle this thing with any kind of luck at all.
Merlin help them, she thought wearily, as she dimmed the lights with her wand and warded the door against unwelcome guests.
. . .
Lee was having a very odd dream that night. He was floating underwater, in what he assumed was the lake outside of Hogwarts. He was surrounded by a crowd of merpeople; they were all screaming at him in a high pitched unintelligible garble of nonsense words.
"I don't know, I don't know!" He tried to shout back at them from within the dream, but nothing would come out of his mouth save for bubbles.
Suddenly, one of the bearded men swam forwards and grabbed his arm. It was one of the most peculiar sensations that Lee had ever felt. It was a warm touch, but very rough and not at all gentle. The merman pointed at him, and Lee nodded that he understood. And then the merman pointed to his right (Lee's left) with a furious motion that seemed to mean something important was there.
Lee pointed to himself and then pointed back the same direction.
The merman nodded.
And then he nodded as well.
No sooner had that been established, but the landscape changed once more, and Lee found himself back in the dank hallway where his last nightmare had taken place. It was still as large and forbidding as it had been before, but with a noticeable difference: he could move.
Rather uncomfortable now, he shivered a bit and began walking across the floor softly.
He had only made it a few steps when a sound caught his attention.
"Harry!" The voice was a rough whisper, but loud enough in this hallway of dead silence.
He whirled around and saw Ron Weasley standing not two feet from him.
"Get away from me!" He yelled, more angry than frightened.
He saw Ron flinch, but he felt no regret for it. It was bad enough to have had been raped by Lucius, but to think that his own best mate could have committed similar actions against his person!
"I don't need you!" He shouted at the red haired boy.
"I'm sorry Harry!" Ron shouted back pitifully. "Merlin, I'm so sorry," his once friend said, dropping to his knees with his head hung down.
"You think that's all it takes?!?" Lee was livid now. "You think you can just say sorry and we can go back to the way things were!??"
Ron looked up at him with a hopeful look in his face.
"Then you're blind! Maybe you were always blind!" Lee shouted—feeling a deep pain in his chest as he spoke the words that he had wondered about for so very long.
"I'm not Harry and I'm not your friend!" He took a step towards the white faced boy.
"I'm Lee. And I'm pissed off; understand me?" Lee loomed over the skinny redhead at his feet.
"Lucius took me apart, and you helped," he spat bitterly downwards. "You took what was left of me and you fucked me over. At least Lucius was just in it for revenge; you did it for lust. If you ask me, that's the more disgusting of the two motives." Lee's voice was low, deadly.
He could see Ron's shoulders shaking and he wouldn't be surprised if the other boy was crying.
Let him! He thought angrily.
"I won't forgive you. I might not ever forgive you," he said roughly, as his emotions threatened to take him down.
"I want to go home. I want to go home now!" He shouted up through the cavernous hall.
The room didn't answer him, but from his feet, Ron did.
"You have to stay until you accept what I've said," his ex-best mate said plaintively.
"You stay out of this," Lee hissed. "You should just be glad that I didn't tell your mum what you did."
The other boy fell silent at his words, which Lee was grateful for.
Dad, his brain supplied suddenly.
"Dad." He said quietly, his eyes opening wider.
"Dad! Dad! Dad!!! Please! Dad!!!" He began shouting with all of his might to the nearly empty room.
. . .
Severus threw himself out of bed as his son's shrill cry broke through the barriers of his sleep.
"Dad! Please! Dad!" His son cried frantically from his room.
Severus made his way quickly across the hallway and into his son's room—each step bringing him closer to wakefulness.
"Dad!" The cry was so much like how his son sounded normally, that Severus was left wondering if the child really was asleep.
"Lee?" He questioned softly, but got no response. The lad was curled up in a ball, with his hands over his ears and his eyes screwed tightly shut against a sight he seemed unwilling to let himself see.
Soon, Severus was sitting on the bed and had the child in his arms. He hadn't even thought about the repercussions of picking him up.
"Shh, son; Dad's here, shh," Severus said as he rocked the boy and rubbed his back soothingly.
Though still asleep—Severus could tell from the haphazard motions the boy was exhibiting within his arms—Lee still managed to wrap his arms and legs around Severus's torso in a tight embrace.
"Lee, wake up," Severus said in a deeper voice, keeping the concern out of his tone as much as he could.
"Dad dad dad," his son still cried out, but was starting to come around.
And then a shift from within his arms, and Severus breathed a small sigh of relief as his child opened his eyes and looked at him full on.
"Dad!" There was recognition in those bright green eyes; followed by a release of tension throughout the boy's body.
"You came!" The child exclaimed, kissing him several times on his sleep roughened cheek.
Severus was a bit undone by that.
"Of course I did," he found himself stammering; feeling some disgust at his ability to be taken apart just by a few words and kisses.
"Thank you thank you thank you," the child gushed—but not crying—his subconscious pointed out with interest.
"Was it a nightmare?" He asked curiously.
The child nodded his head in affirmation several times against his neck.
"May I ask?"
"I was in the lake," the child started out; his words putting a cold gush into Severus's gut.
"And?" Severus forced himself to ask.
"I was surrounded by merpeople and they kept shouting at me," Lee explained, pressing his cold nose into the space where Severus's neck and shoulder met. He told Severus about his return to the dark hallway and he told about the conversation that took place there between him and Ron.
"And then I wanted out, so I started calling for you; and you came and it's alright really now, and—," the child in his arms rambled on before being gently hushed by Severus.
"I am glad that your instinct was to call for me. There was a time not too long ago that you would not have thought to do that at all," Severus said softly; his hand cupped around the boy's face as he looked him in the eye.
"And you came!" The boy whispered to him with a smile that prompted Severus to lift the corner of his mouth up as well.
"Indeed. I did," Severus said, drawing the child more tightly into the protection of his arms.
"And I will continue to do so; as long as I am able," Severus promised to the small, almost asleep boy.
. . .
The next day, during one of Severus's free periods, he decided to go to the infirmary and visit young Mr. Weasley himself. Now that the boy was more lucid, perhaps he could finally get some much needed answers to the situation at hand.
By chance, he happened upon the room at a time that Molly was not there. It wasn't that he couldn't have handled the situation with her interference; it just merely would have been more difficult.
He walked into the room where the youngest Weasley male was being kept without even a second glance from Poppy. Given the level of recovery that Lee had exhibited since being in his care, it was hardly a wonder that she wasn't worried about his interference in this situation.
He had been keeping appraised of the boy's health and return to the land of the living, but the sight of the boy still managed to shock him a bit, even so.
It was only from his years spent in service to the Dark Lord that he managed to keep his face even.
"Ah Severus," Michael Turnskell greeted him warmly as he walked in.
He nodded curtly to the man before turning his attention back on the gaunt boy whose eyes had followed him unceasingly since his first step into the room.
"Good morning Mr. Weasley," he greeted the boy in a calm, and hopefully neutral sounding, voice.
"Pro-pro-professor," the boy stammered; his voice sounding hoarse from disuse.
"I have kept my promise," Severus said gently, taking a seat next to the bed in the hopes that he would appear less intimidating.
Ron nodded mutely at him—eyes still wary.
"Although I still believe it would be helpful to your recovery if you would allow me to tell Poppy," he added seriously.
Here, he was rewarded by a longer stare from the boy, as well as a questioning look from Turnskill.
"Given that she already knows many of the other details of your ordeal, what do you have to lose to allow her to know this as well?" He asked, putting it fairly bluntly for the addled mind of the young Gryffindor.
Your son is a Gryffindor too, you know, his inner voice told him with a huff.
But he wasn't supposed to be, he argued back half-heartedly.
Besides, his brain has not been warped by unknown chemicals.
Sweet Merlin—what a thought to have about one's own child—his mind shuddered at the implications of such a concept, and he felt a wave of pity go through him for the boy and his family.
"Well? What say you Mr. Weasley?" He prompted again when it looked as though the boy was never going to speak.
. . .
Ron Weasley stared at the man sitting beside his bed as though he had never seen him before.
Is this really Snape???
Why would he want to help me???
"How's Harry doing?" He found himself asking instead of answering the man's unnerving question.
Briefly he saw a look of—annoyance?—pass across his professor's face, before it was replaced by that same look of general calmness that he had worn since coming into Ron's room that morning.
I almost wish that he'd hit me or yell or something, Ron thought to himself at the back of his mind.
Because with Snape acting this way, it was almost as though he cared about Ron; something he knew was not possible. It'd be like Snape caring for Harry.
Impossible, he thought to himself with a grimace.
"I think you should be told that he no longer uses that name," Snape told him slowly; looking at him almost warily now.
It took a few minutes for Ron to process that out, but when he did, he was shocked.
He turned to the healer beside him; a presence he'd begun to believe in, if not exactly trust.
"Why did he say that?" He asked the other man quietly.
"Because it's true," the older man answered seriously, a touch of sorrow in his eyes.
"What's his name now?" Ron asked, not turning away from the healer, even though his question was meant for Snape.
"Lee," was Snape's short response.
"Lee Potter?" He all but whispered, as he finally turned back to look at the dark haired man.
The question elicited a sigh from his professor.
"I had not meant to get into this fully, but now I see that it is impossible to do otherwise," Snape said in a slow voice.
"Is he okay?" Ron found himself asking his fear aloud.
"He is recovering adequately," his professor said in a different voice.
Was that pride I just heard?
"His name is Lee Snape now. I adopted him—with his permission—over the Christmas holidays."
Silence, then—.
"WHAT?!?" He shouted, flinging himself at Snape, intent on wreaking havoc on the dark haired man beside him.
He didn't expect to be caught by wards on the bed, knocking him backwards onto the mattress with an "OOF!" as he hit. He didn't expect to be sedated by the healer, and he didn't expect to be given such a sorrowful look by his fearsome professor.
However, it was the last of these unexpected actions against him that stuck in his mind.
Lying on the bed, his limbs unresponsive and his eyes barely open, he fought back tears as he looked over to the man still sitting beside him.
"I am sorry that you are taking this as hard as you are, Mr. Weasley. However, I think you should know that your friend really is a great deal happier now. He has needed a parent for a long time, and though I did not know it originally, it appears that I was in need of a son," Snape said; his deep voice cutting through the fog of the drugs in Ron's system.
"Theeenn, tttteeeellll hhhhiimm." Ron slurred.
"Tell him?" Snape responded with some surprise. "About what happened?"
Ron nodded.
"And Madam Poppy?"
"Tellll afffter."
Ron felt his eyes rolling back in his head then, and drool already escaping his parted lips, as the sedative finally took over his control of his body.
