Head splitting screams started him from the darkness, his eyes now wide as his vision cleared to find a far too much white surrounding him; a room of white walls and white floors where he laid on white sheets on a single bed with white curtains surrounding the space. Trying to speak, he found his voice useless and his throat searing with white hot pain. He swallowed which he immediately realized was a terrible mistake as the pain increased exponentially. As if realizing he was alive were not torture enough.
As he tried to ascertain his whereabouts the screams continued. The girl, no, the woman, now begged someone to stop. Someone was attacking her. He reached for his wand but found he wore some thin beige semblance of robe in place of his usual dark jacket and heavy cloak. The woman cried out again, in a voice that seemed strangely familiar. A student perhaps. Where was he? He sat up, his hands reaching for his throat to find thick wet bandages beneath his fingers.
"Stop, I can't take anymore. Just stop!" The distressed voice begged from behind some sort of curtain which separated him from whatever was happening to the woman.
The female voice whimpered as someone in green robes stepped from behind the curtain. "Oh, Mr Snape. You are awake."
He cringed as the mediwizard approached him. With another glance around the room, he understood where he was - St Mungo's. Damnit. How had he gotten here? The last he could remember he was staring up into the darkness on the floor of the Shrieking Shack, the warm metallic taste of blood in his mouth and an icy coldness in his limbs waiting for death to claim him. Why had someone seen fit to take that from him?
He attempted to groan but instead was overcome with a coughing fit bringing with it more agony originating from his neck.
"Mr Snape, please try to calm yourself. Your injuries are severe and have not yet healed." The healer placed his hands onto his shoulders.
Severus pulled away from the touch and glared at the man.
"Yes. Well, we hope your voice will return as the healing continues. In the meantime, this might help with the pain." The mediwizard handed him a small vial.
He eyed the potion before raising an eyebrow.
"Oh Professor, do not worry. I scored Os in potions for both O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. level. I am Augustus Pye, in case you have forgotten me. I am a healer here in the Dai Llewellyn Ward of St Mungo's. A simple pain reliever potion is no challenge these days, I assure you. I certainly have not forgotten the many things you taught me." He smiled.
The older wizard scoffed, but drank down the potion.
"And a cough potion," Augustus said as he handed him another vial.
Severus tipped this one back as well, longing to comment on how he did indeed remember the man and not all that fondly being he had destroyed several cauldrons with his "experimentations" in his classroom.
Another pained groan came from behind the curtain and both men glanced over towards the source.
Severus narrowed his gaze at the barrier. He cleared his throat questioningly, but grimaced as the muscles of his neck spasmed with pain.
Augustus shook his head. "I am not really at liberty to discuss other cases, but I will say I will be shocked if the poor girl survives long enough for me to test out my Wolfsbane brewing skills." He sighed.
Severus's eyes widened. Whomever was behind that curtain had been attacked by a werewolf recently. But the full moon was still over a week away. He knew of only one werewolf capable of such things. The girl must have encountered Fenrir Greyback meaning she had been part of the attack on Hogwarts by the Dark Lord and his followers, on the side of the resistance.
He struggled to recognize the voice. He knew it was familiar, definitely someone he'd heard scream before, but after the last year at Hogwarts, that really did not narrow down the prospects much. He sighed and Healer Pye glanced at him.
"You need rest, Mr Snape. Please." He motioned to the bed. The mediwizard set another vile on the bedside table. "Dreamless Sleep, should you need it." With a nod, the man left him and disappeared behind the neighboring curtain again.
More sounds of discomfort followed. "No more. Just let me die."
"Now now, Ms Brown, you know I cannot. Even so, I may not be able to prevent it either way."
"Then stop torturing me. Why put me through this if I am going to die anyway. I don't want to suffer anymore. Please?"
Ms Brown. Lavender Brown? The Gryffindor Gossip Queen? What was the world coming to?
With another sigh, he rubbed his temples. He shared the witch's feelings. Death seemed preferable. How was it that he had eluded it once again?
He yanked up the sleeve of his robe covering his left arm and stared down at the skin. The Dark Mark was gone. It could only mean that The Dark Lord was truly gone. Potter must have succeeded.
He collapsed back onto the cot. Reaching for his wand again, he sighed as he again did not find it. Wandless and voiceless and worst of all, still breathing. A fitting fate. He scoffed and then cringed as another wave of pain hit him.
He eyed the potion on the bedside table for a long moment before reaching for it. Playing with the vile between his fingers, he sighed. When another whimper echoed from behind the curtain, he tipped back his head and downed the draught.
It was late and the ward was empty save himself and the witch lying behind the curtain beside him. With many complaints from his stiffened joints and sore muscles, he stood. His long fingers reached for the curtain and pulled it away as he held his breath. Miss Brown lied curled in a fetal position on the hospital cot with the sheets pulled around her as her shoulders shook with silent sobs. The scent of dittany hung thick in the air around her bed. He turned away with a shudder.
"Wait. Who's there?" The witch peeked out from the blankets.
Severus swallowed as he looked back toward her.
She blinked at him a moment and then sat straight up on the bed, mouth wide. "Professor Snape?" She wiped the tears from her face and reached a hand to hide the bandages that covered the right side of her face and continued down beneath the blood splattered hospital gown she wore.
He grunted as he nodded.
Her visible eye narrowed as her mouth tightened. "Why are you here?"
He sighed and motioned to the bandages to his neck before turning to leave her again.
"No! Wait."
He turned back to her and raised an eyebrow.
"You did this!" She hissed pulling her hand away from her face. "This is your fault."
Snape cringed. In many ways, she was correct, but in many ways she was not. However, whether or not he wanted to correct her understanding of the situation, he could not.
He shook his head to argue but knew it was a lost gesture by the anger strong on the witch's face.
"Finish it then!"
His lips tightened as he stepped a bit closer.
"Kill me." She puffed out her chest and threw back her arms.
He stared at her, motionless. Her eyes said more to him than her words. She meant it; she wanted him to end her suffering.
"Do it. I know you can. Like you did Professor Dumbledore."
Snape lunged at the girl before he could stop himself. Pulling her close to him, he bent near her ear, "You.." he grunted and coughed as his throat burned. "Do not...know…" he released her as he doubled over.
The witch pulled away, eyes wide. She watched him sputter and cough, frozen as if stupified.
The pain finally released him long enough for him to pull in a full breath and with it, some control of his being. As he looked up at her, a trickle of blood made its way along her neck and dripped onto her gown. Before he could turn to leave, another drop joined it, then another.
He pulled the curtain aside, looking for a healer or an assistant, but not one was present in the room except himself and Ms Brown. He cursed softly, trying not to aggravate his injured vocal cords.
He turned to his former student to find her reaching up to a now blood soaked dressing at her temple. "Not again," she cried before flopping onto the cot. "Maybe I will bleed out this time…"
Severus looked around to find the ward still empty. A bell sat on the bedside table. He reached for it.
"Don't bother," she mumbled.
He rang the bell loudly several times, as he looked down on the witch now curled back into a tight fetal position.
Setting down the bell, he moved closer. The cursed wounds had saturated the dressings along her head and face and oozed through onto her gown. She might very well bleed out if something was not done soon.
A bottle of dittany sat on the shelf above her cot along with a pile of dressing supplies. He stared at them, waiting for someone to come and help the girl. He rang the bell again but still no one responded. He could only imagine the number of other casualties from the Battle that must also be present at St Mungo's at that very moment
"Damnit," he cursed under his breath as he reached for the bottle and dressings. He popped the top of the bottle with a flick of his thumb and poured it on the soft cotton. "Hold still." He managed to hiss.
He pulled back the dressing from her cheek and paused as he took in the horrid site of her inflamed, torn, and disfigured skin reaching over her forehead, swelling her eye shut, and spreading down across her cheekbone to her ear. Her long blond locks were caked with blood.
The witch sensed his hesitation and fresh tears poured from her eyes. When he reached down to staunch the oozing blood, she pushed him away. "It's no use."
"Shhh." He set down the bottle and grabbed her hands. She struggled beneath him as the dittany soaked dressings pressed against her skin.
While his strength was seriously compromised by his injuries, hers was even more so, and she soon tired. She broke into violent sobs but stopped fighting against him.
He moved down her face and neck and pulled back her gown to treat the wounds along her collarbone and shoulder. Just as he was debating the impropriety of undressing his former student further to treat her other wounds, Healer Pye stepped beside him. "Mr Snape. I can take it from here. Thank you."
Severus hesitated for a moment but relented when the Mediwizard reached for his hands. He released the dressings and stood from the bed. With a grunt, he pulled the curtain back in place and flopped onto his own cot.
Why had he survived when so many did not? Why would he recover, a man prepared to die, expecting to die, while the young woman next to him would likely succumb to her tragic injuries? How many other students suffered? How many did not survive?
As if in response to his internal thoughts, Healer Pye entered the ward and paused at the foot of his bed. "I thought you might want to see this." The mediwizard dropped a copy of the Daily Prophet onto Severus's knees. The headline read "Over Fifty Die Fighting Death Eaters in Battle at Hogwarts." A subheading proclaimed "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Vanquished?"
His stomach churned as he glanced up at the healer.
"They have you listed in the death toll, you know?"
He raised an eyebrow in response before flipping open the paper to the second page. Scanning down the page, trying desperately not to retain any other names, he found his own and nodded. As an afterthought, he scanned the names again - no Potter. He folded up the paper and set it aside.
"Mr Snape, if I might examine your wounds."
He rolled his eyes and rested back onto the headboard as the mediwizard undid the dressings at his neck.
"Merlin! What happened to him?" A woman's voice chirped from nearby.
Both men turned to look at the pale witch gripping onto the curtain that was supposed to be providing privacy.
"Ms Brown. Get back to bed. You are far too weakened to be up without assistance."
She growled. "I don't care. I want to know what happened. Did the bloody werewolf get him too?"
Snape snorted.
She raised an eyebrow. "You know, you aren't nearly as intimidating without that sharp tongue of yours, Professor."
He narrowed his eyes as he scoffed, bringing forth another violent coughing fit.
The witch seemed to go even paler which should not have been possible. "Oh.. I'm sorry, I did not mean…" She disappeared behind the curtain.
"My apologies, Sir. I can move you to another part of the ward if you prefer. It might give you a bit more privacy."
The older wizard huffed and motioned between himself and the only other occupied bed which belonged to the nosy witch.
"Yes. It is true. There really is not much privacy when you are the only two here. Unfortunately, any others in the Battle at Hogwarts that might have needed my services in this ward, did not survive long enough to make it here. You and Ms Brown were fortunate, although just barely."
Both wizards glanced over at Ms Brown's curtain. The witch was still not guaranteed to stay off that list.
As the healer coated his poisoned bite wounds with thick poultice, he cleared his throat. "I completed the Wolfsbane last night. The full moon is a week away now. She'll have to start drinking it tonight."
Severus nodded.
"I would be grateful if you might review the potion before she takes it. I have very little experience with it."
Severus nodded again. He would have insisted on reviewing it if the healer had not offered. It was a difficult potion for even the most experienced such as himself. To brew it incorrectly was deadly.
Augustus breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Sir." He tightened the dressing in place. "All done for today. If you would like to follow me, I will show you to the lab."
Severus stood and adjusted the thin material about his form, feeling exposed even though the fabric covered him from the neck to below the knees.
"Oh yes, that reminds me…" The mediwizard waved his wand and a mess of dark fabric appeared in his arms. "I know they are not your robes, but they were mostly unsalvageable." He handed the navy robes to the elder wizard.
Severus accepted them, slipped the long robes over his shoulders and fastened the front closures. They were certainly not his robes, more something Albus would have chosen with the billowy sleeves and loose drape, not appropriate for a potions lab, but an improvement over the previous attire.
"This way." The healer moved through the large ward toward the door on the opposite end, through a long corridor, up a flight of stairs and down another long corridor. Many green robed mediwitches and wizards hurried past them paying little notice. A nervous energy hung in the air.
Even this short excursion had Severus breathing heavy and his heart pounding in his ears. This body is worthless, he thought. More evidence that his survival had been in vain.
"This is the St Mungo's potion lab." Augustus motioned to the rows of work tables and cauldrons. Rows of shelves covered in brewing ingredients lined the far wall. "The Wolfsbane is here." He led them through the tables.
Seven bottles filled with a shimmery blue liquid lined a small shelf. On the table below, sat a cauldron from which rose blue strands of swirling smoke. Severus picked up the first bottle and tilted toward the lamplight. The color and viscosity appeared appropriate.
The Wolfsbane recipe sat on the table next to the cauldron. Severus coughed and pointed to it. How could they leave such a trusted secret just lying about so carelessly.
"If you touch it, it will disintegrate, Sir. That copy will only last until tonight."
Severus nodded. He motioned to the top of the recipe noting the proper collection of the Aconite and Valerian in the light of the full moon and then to be stored in complete darkness until its use.
"Yes, Sir. All ingredients were collected last month and have been stored in light-tight storage until I started the brewing process yesterday.
Severus leaned over the cauldron. He drew a long sniff of the blue smoke and broke into another coughing fit.
Healer Pye reached for his shoulder but Severus shook him away. The scent of the potion was noxious even to the healthiest of noses.
As he caught his breath and stood up, he reached for the stirring rod. He stirred the elixir and pulled the rod free from it. He allowed a single drop to drip onto his outstretched index finger which he brought to his lips.
Healer Pye, watched him in still silence, eyes following his every move, his breath held.
Severus licked the foul tasting liquid from his lips and nodded. "It… is not...deadly." He swallowed down the ache in his throat. "No obvious flaws." The Potion Master could say no more as the only definitive way to know its effectiveness was with use.
The Mediwizard nodded. "Good. Thank you, Sir."
"I won't take it!" The witch shouted from behind the curtain next to him.
"Ms Brown, you must start the Wolfsbane potion tonight if you have any hope of surviving the change. The full moon is seven days away. It must be taken faithfully each night after moonrise." Augustus responded.
"I would rather die."
"Enough of that talk. Just take the potion or I will call in some assistants, and they will force you to."
"I said no. And you cannot force me."
"Actually, in the case of lycanthropy, I can. It is a public safety issue."
"Errrgghhh! Now I have no rights either?"
"Not the right to risk others."
Severus stood and pulled back the curtain. "Just take it." He growled, pulling the dark robes around him while he clenched his jaw to distract from the fire in his voice box.
Her uncovered eye widened.
"If I… must survive… so shall you." He turned away and returned to his cot.
"Thank you, Lavender." Healer Pye said.
The witches gags were her only response.
"I hate you, Professor. Truly despise you." Lavender brown stood in the open curtain, a sneer on her tear-stained, swollen features, her hair tied up atop her head haphazardly.
He nodded.
"Why, of all people, must it be you here."
He snorted as his thoughts reflected a similar sentiment about her.
"So is it true?"
He raised an eyebrow.
"Have you not read the Prophet today?"
He shook his head.
Without invitation, she flopped down on the chair at his bedside meant for visitors he would never have and handed him a rolled up newspaper.
He unrolled the paper and looked at his own photo staring back at him on the front page next to the headline "Potter Claims Snape's Innocence."
Severus swallowed as a sudden burning took hold of his throat before he quickly read the article which essentially outlined all the things he had shared with the 'Boy Who Lived' in what he thought would have been his final moments, all save the most important and most personal, his love for Harry's mother being the true reason for almost seventeen years as a double agent.
All that remained of the wizard was a broken wand found in a puddle of blood in an abandoned shack, locally known as the Shrieking Shack, in Hogsmeade, but based on Potter's description of his final moments, he is currently presumed dead. He read the final line and lowered the paper.
Lavender's wide bloodshot eyes met his.
He shrugged.
"That's it? That's your response?" She shrieked, the sound grating his ears.
He frowned and cleared his throat. "It is."
"True? Or that it is your response."
He gave a brief nod. "Truth." While overly sentimental in its description, the facts are essentially correct, he thought but did not trust his raw vocal cords enough to attempt to say aloud.
Her eyes narrowed. "What did you say?"
He raised an eyebrow. "It is...correct." He placed a long finger on the paper to emphasize his point.
"No. The part about being overly sentimental…" She leaned closer to him, her eyes on his.
He felt the blood fall from his face. Had he said that aloud? Ms Brown, have you suddenly developed talents as a Legilimens?
The witch gasped and pulled away. "Merlin!" She jumped up from the chair and disappeared behind her own curtain.
Severus cursed under his breath as he climbed from his cot. He must know if she had heard him. He grabbed the Prophet and pulled back the curtains.
She turned from him, pulling the blankets tight around her frail looking frame. "Go away!"
He placed the paper on her bedside table and sat down on the chair next to her bed. "No." He whispered.
She turned back to him. "I am an unpredictable monster, you know. I should not be angered."
He dipped his head in response. You are no monster.
"I've heard the healers talking about me behind my back. I know what they whisper to themselves. Only Healer Pye is not afraid to treat me, but mostly because his professional interest and curiosity overrules his fear." Fresh tears streamed down her face.
He sat silent, observing her. This was not the same witch that had been his student for so many years, the Gryffindor Gossip Queen, that he initially thought had been poorly sorted. No, she was not even the same witch that had defied him and the Carrows in her last year proving her Gryffindor nature. This witch was a broken shell of those witches.
She nodded. "Yes. That is how I feel." She pulled her knees to her chest. "Broken."
He looked away, his suspicions confirmed. He swallowed as he raised his mental shields. He could not risk her having free reign of his mind.
Looking back to her, meeting her dull grey eyes. He nodded. You may recover, but you will never be the same. Such is the nature of war.
She shook her head. "I will never recover. I will be disfigured and inhuman until I die. The sooner the better."
He looked down at his hands in his lap, breaking their eye contact. How very unGryffindor of her.
"And to top it off, they took my wand. And now that I am this thing, I will probably never get it back."
He locked eyes with her again. Given the suffering speech caused him, sharing his most superficial thoughts with the witch seemed preferable to conversation. Not all werewolves lose their right to magic. Remus Lupin for example.
She let out a sudden gasping sob and turned away from him. "Go away."
"Let me go!" Lavender screamed as the two wizards picked her up under her arms. "I don't want to go."
Healer Pye stood before the frantic witch. "Ms Brown. It is for your own good. We do not know how the change will affect you nor how the Wolfsbane will perform. We must keep you and others safe. Please understand."
"Stop it. No. Please. Don't lock me up." She looked around the room. "Professor, please. Can't you help me?"
Severus stood. "Where?" He asked Augustus as he motioned toward Ms Brown.
"Tonight is the full moon. We have prepared a room where she will be safe and we can ensure she has access to no one else."
The two wizards dragged the struggling woman as Healer Pye followed with Severus on his heels, pulling on the navy robes as he went.
By the time they arrived at the location of what could only be described as a padded cell, Lavender had exhausted herself and was carried in the arms of one of the two wizards.
Healer Pye opened the door and the wizard placed the spent witch in the center of the room.
"This space has been charmed with calming charms, protective spells, and slowing spells to help prevent self-harm should the Wolfsbane not be as effective as hoped. From that room over there, she can be observed and we have access to cast additional spells to intervene should it be necessary."
Severus nodded as he looked at the frail woman in the center of the small space. As the door closed on her, she raised her head, her grey eyes begging. Begging for what, he could not tell; sympathy, empathy, death?
He approached the heavy door as the lock clicked in place. As he reached for the handle, Augustus stepped beside him. "The moonrise is imminent. It is not safe."
Severus cleared his throat, tensing his jaw against the pain. "She is...weak. May not survive this."
The healer nodded. "I know. We've done everything we can to build up her; Blood replenishing potions, Invigorating draught, Vitamix, Calming draught, Draught of Peace, and she just took Felix Felicis. I don't know what else can be done."
Cries of pain came muffled from beyond the door. Severus reached for the handle. "Should not die alone." He thought of what were meant to be his final moments alone on the cold wood floor, staring up at the darkness as the last remaining ounces of life drained from him.
"It is not safe, Mr Snape."
Severus pointed to his chest. "Already dead." He reached for the handle again.
As Augustus tried again to stop him, Severus scowled and the healer backed away. "I will be watching. If she appears violent, we will remove you by force and risk further injury to Ms Brown."
Severus nodded and took a deep breath before stepping inside the small space.
Lavender whimpered from her huddled position in the far corner of the room. The transformation had begun; her body contorted unnaturally and her thin robe was tearing away.
He approached her slowly, crouched low. "Ms Brown…" He whispered.
She did not seem to hear him.
"Lavender." He said as loud as his injured vocal cords would allow within the realms of bearable pain.
The witch writhed as her limbs and skull stretched and the remaining threads of her gown tore away. "Please, help…" she moaned before her human voice was taken over by the wolf's.
Severus turned away as her cries became an animalistic howl. When he turned back, he saw Lavender's tortured grey eyes looking back at him from the fair wolf's face as the animal collapsed to the floor. He moved closer, sitting beside the creature. Can you hear my voice, Ms Brown?
Her eyes widened, and she whimpered.
This will pass. He moved closer to her. Just keep breathing.
The wolf lifted her head weakly and placed her chin on his thigh as her body curled next to him.
Severus relaxed his head against the padded wall and placed a hand on the beast's neck.
She sighed and closed her eyes.
"Yes. Rest," he whispered and stroked her thick fur.
The weakened witch turned werewolf remained still and quiet as her former Professor comforted her silently.
Their breathing slowed and both fell into a light sleep.
Severus started awake as the being beside him stirred. He looked down at the wolf as she tried to stand.
Lavender's weak legs struggled to position themselves beneath her as she turned away from him. She whimpered and hid her face in the corner.
"Shh, Shhh. Almost over." He placed a hand on the animal's shoulder.
The contortions and writhing began again as the wolf's limbs and jaw shortened and thick fur disappeared.
The now nude witch, leaned heavily against the corner shielding herself from view, her small frame shaking, her chest heaving.
Severus stood, his joints complaining loudly. Pulling free from the dark robes, he approached her. He draped the robes over the witch's shoulders.
She stood and turned to face him, falling against his chest feebly.
He wrapped his arms around her and lowered her back to the soft floor as he rested his back against the wall once again. She curled into his lap. "Thank you," she said into his chest.
He nodded and patted her shoulder blade.
Her shaking stopped and her frame relaxed.
A few moments later, their solace was interrupted by the heavy door swinging open. Healer Pye rushed over to them, wand in hand, and kneeled down beside the pair. "Ms Brown, may I assess you?"
She shook her head and clung tighter to Severus. "Leave me alone."
Severus cleared his throat, and she looked up at him, her wounds appeared raw and swollen against her fair skin. Let's get you out of here. Allow Healer Pye to assist you.
She shook her head again, her hair now wild locks shaking about her shoulders, before tucking her face back into his chest.
Severus sighed as he looked up at the mediwizard.
"She obviously trusts you, Professor."
He nodded. He could not understand why the young Gryffindor had changed her opinion of him so quickly, but he now felt protective of her as well, seeing the suffering she experienced.
"I will leave the door open. Do you think you can get her back to the ward when she is ready?"
He nodded again.
Augustus stood and left the room.
Lavender looked up at him again. She ran her fingers through her hair, attempting to tame it and wiped the tears from her face. "Everything hurts."
He scoffed, amused. "You did well."
She gave a weak smile. "I was hoping to die. Seemed easier. I still think it would have been."
How absolutely over dramatic of you. You did not survive the bloody war just to succumb now.
"Then what about you? There is no way part of you was not expecting to be killed when you entered here last night."
He sighed and mused if his mental shields were weaker than he thought or if he was really that transparent. You are correct. I knew there was a slim possibility that the Wolfsbane was not as effective as hoped, but only because I myself did not brew it.
To his surprise, the witch laughed softly. "Who is being dramatic now? Despite what is in the Prophet, you are also a survivor. What is your purpose, Professor?"
He shook his head. "I do not know."
She sighed. "I am glad you were here."
He nodded. She may be the only one ever to feel that way about him. Me too.