Stubbornness
21st - 24th December 1999
After saving both Severus Snape and Lucius Malfoy, it was the early hours of the morning and Harry found that he was extremely tired. His magic was severely drained and he could barely keep his eyes open. Remus had offered to Apparate him back to the Burrow but he'd been adamant about wanting to see how the headmaster was doing first and then the young wizard had fallen asleep on a sofa by the fire in Severus' bedroom in a matter of minutes despite the fact that Remus and Poppy were still in the room with him.
"Magically exhausted," Poppy confirmed, waving her wand over him, "Fortunately it's not serious."
"Should I take him back to the Burrow?" Remus asked.
"Best not disturb him yet."
"If Severus wakes up and sees..."
"He won't. Not yet. Young Mr. Potter will be awake long before Severus is," she assured him with confidence. "Besides, you do know that Minerva has transfigured the sofa in the sitting room into a rather grand bed and she's insisted on staying there until he wakes up, don't you?"
"I...didn't know that, no."
"Well, now you do. I don't much like the thought of having two of my patients up here instead of in the hospital wing," she said, glancing over both Harry and Severus.
"Better for Severus though, surely," he said.
"Perhaps," she allowed with a shrug. "Now, you'd best be getting back to your wife. Half the castle heard young Teddy crying earlier. Quite the set of lungs on that little one," she smiled.
"Yes," Remus said, nervously, "If erm...if anything..."
"We know where to find you, yes. Goodnight, Remus," Poppy said, ushering him out of the room.
"'Night, Poppy," he smiled back and left, albeit reluctantly. The plan had been for him and Tonks to leave the castle for Christmas but neither of them could bring themselves to leave when Severus' condition had deteriorated so rapidly.
Harry finally awoke around ten o' clock in the morning to find that his glasses had been placed carefully on a small coffee table to his right and that a warm blanket had been laid over him on the comfortable sofa. The room was lit by lamps and candles as the curtains were still closed but at least the windows seemed to be open, letting in a calm breeze and magically not blowing out the candles at the same time.
"Good morning, Mr. Potter," Minerva greeted him as he ran a hand through his unruly hair. She was sitting in her usual spot by Severus bedside, reading a book with a tea tray close by. "How are you feeling?" she asked.
"Erm...better, professor," Harry stretched.
"Poppy tells me that you were magically exhausted. It may take some time for you to fully recover, so in the meantime do be careful for once and try not to exert yourself," she said holding out a cup of tea for him.
"Thanks, professor," he said, walking forwards to gratefully take the delicate teacup and saucer. "I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to fall asleep here and I..." he began to say.
"Not to worry. We thought it was best to let you sleep and what Severus doesn't know, won't hurt him...You took a great risk in doing what you did."
"I had to," Harry replied, taking a grateful sip of the warm tea. "How...erm...how's he doing?" he asked.
"He's still asleep," Minerva told him, sadly.
"But...he'll be alright, won't he?"
"We don't know. We hope so. Unfortunately only time will tell."
"He wasn't exactly grateful, was he?" Harry said, daringly, "Earlier, I mean."
Part of him knew that he wouldn't receive any thanks from the headmaster but he'd also been a little hurt by the fact that Severus had seemed so reluctant to be helped. It had shocked Harry that the man hadn't seemed to care at all about his own imminent death even with the possibility of survival being offered to him.
"Did you expect him to be?" she scoffed.
"...No," Harry admitted, "No, not really."
"I think he is...grateful...though I doubt he'll admit it. The problem is, he's also angry at us. He didn't want us to risk your life," Minerva sighed. "He gave us every excuse under the sun, you know, but it couldn't have been more obvious if he'd cast it in the sky in sixty foot letters. I am...sorry, Potter. Truly I am. I didn't want to risk your life either but..."
"Moony said it was more risky to Professor Snape than to me," Harry said.
"And it was, but I'm not exactly comfortable with the fact that we endangered you to save him and I know that he isn't..."
"I'd do it again," Harry interrupted her and she nodded.
"He's going to be very angry when he wakes up," she remarked, fondly, "He always was a terrible patient."
"Yeah," he sighed.
"And now Lucius Malfoy owes you his life as well."
"He wasn't happy about that either," Harry grimaced.
"I can imagine. You'll get even less gratitude from him than you will from Severus."
"I don't want his gratitude."
"Maybe not. But despite everything, you still saved him. It takes a brave person to do that."
"Or a stupid one," he scoffed and rubbed at his tired eyes.
"We'll go with brave, shall we?" Minerva smiled and he let out a quiet scoff.
"If you say so, professor."
"It was very brave of you, Potter," she emphasised honestly. "Molly's expecting you back at the Burrow now that you're awake. We thought it best to let you rest before travelling anywhere. You can use the fireplace over there," she said, glancing over at the huge, ornate stone fireplace at the far end of the room.
It was several days later, in the early hours of Christmas Eve in fact, when Severus woke up. It felt like a Herculean effort just to open his eyes and when he did, he found Minerva watching him and and Poppy casting charms silently.
"Welcome back to the land of the living," Minerva smiled down at him. Severus scowled back at her. "Please don't look at me like that. We've been fearing the worst for days," she said.
Severus breathed in deeply before sighing and closing his eyes again, he turned away from them even with his eyes closed and felt a bone crushing melancholy overwhelm him. How could he possibly still be alive? The Dark Mark had been draining him of all strength for months, surely he had none left to recover with.
"Why?" he managed to ask in a quiet, raspy voice.
"Why what?" Minerva asked.
"Am I...still alive?" he clarified.
"Oh, Severus," the deputy head sighed and shared a tragic glance with Poppy who stood beside her. "Because you have people who care about you. People who couldn't stand the thought of watching you die," she said.
"More fool you," he muttered. He tried to roll over onto his side so that he wouldn't have to feel the weight of their stares but he stopped and hissed as he jostled his wounded, burned arm. "...The hell did you do?" he grounded out. He clutched as his forearm and after a moment, was able to open his eyes again to glare at them.
"The Mark's gone," Poppy said, "But it wasn't without cost."
"Not paid for it enough, have I?"
"It's left your forearm severely burned and immobile, not to mention the fact that you're magically and physically exhausted and I daren't give you anymore potions yet. For a while I thought we'd have to amputate your arm entirely. But I think you should regain the use of it in time, your hand as well I hope, once you've started to regain your strength. We could try Phoneenix tears but honestly I'd rather not. You know as well as I do that wounds cuased by Dark Magic don't react well to Phoenix tears."
"Best not...unless you want the privilege of finishing me off," Severus muttered.
"Honestly, Severus, it's a miracle you're still alive," Minerva said, "You barely moved for three days."
"Not quite a record for you, by any means," Poppy said, "But you'll be feeling awful for weeks."
He'd borne the Mark for twenty years and he'd regretted it for almost as long. One simple mistake in his youth had haunted him for so long that he didn't quite know how to love without it. The Mark was something he could always feel intwined with his own magic, he'd been linked to it for so long that it was an odd feeling to be suddenly free of it. Being alive was also something he hadn't expected and it brought a mixed sense of intense relief and heart wrenching sorrow. He'd had to accept the inevitability of his death, or so he'd thought and he'd made his peace with it, now he wasn't sure what exactly he was supposed to do next.
"...Had worse," he muttered.
"Just a stubborn as ever," the Medi-witch rolled her eyes.
"Where's Potter?" Severus asked.
"Resting at the Burrow. He's fine," Minerva replied.
"You could've killed him," he said, "You should've let me die."
"He knew the risk and he chose to help you. He saved Lucius Malfoy as well."
"...What?"
"Just in time too, although he's still in Azkaban," Poppy said. "The Minister allows me brief visits once a day for medical attention although Merlin knows that man, prisoner or no, should be in a hospital. As much as I dislike him, I took an oath to help my patients not leave them to rot in a cell."
"He's alive?"
"Barely," she answered.
After a moment, Severus shifted and tried to lift his wounded arm but failed. It felt like his entire arm was on fire and it was impossible to move it let alone his fingers. From the elbow down it was swathed in bandages but he could no longer feel the Dark Mark. It was impossible to believe but he was finally free.
"It's gone?" he asked, quietly. "You're sure?" he felt the need to check despite the fact that he could no longer feel its presence.
"Yes," Minerva answered. "It worked. You're free."
"Although the damage may never fully heal but it will improve," Poppy told him. "I'd strongly advise not using any magic at all for at least a month. Your body can't handle it and neither can your magic. You need time to recover. Properly recover this time, not your usual cure of a dozen pain dulling potions, a bottle of fire whiskey and Merlin only knows what else. Honestly Severus...you're lucky to be alive."
"Yes...I'm ecstatic," he scoffed, "I feel about as strong as a day old Kneazle and as rough as a badger's arse."
"Charming as ever," the Medi-witch smiled.
"I'm half tempted to dismiss the pair of you," he said.
"And whatever for?" Minerva demanded.
"I told you not to risk your precious golden Gryffindors' life for mine. I told you not to meddle with magic you don't understand..."
"I suppose that's as close as we'll get to a 'thank you'," Poppy said, sarcastically to Minerva.
"Rest for now, Severus, you can be as angry as you like when you've the energy," Minerva told him. "I'm sorry to have to tell you that it doesn't quite have the same effect when you've all the strength of a day old Kneazle. I know you're angry that Harry risked his life but he chose to help you. As did we. I promise I'll listen to all the shouting and screaming and every possible curse you can possibly muster...once you've the strength."
"Yes, and I swear by Merlin I'll magically chain you to that bed if you even think about trying to move," Poppy threatened.
"You wouldn't dare," he furrowed his brow at her.
"Try me," she retorted. "I know you, Severus, you're the worst, most stubborn patient I've ever met. Honestly, sometimes I think sheer stubbornness is all that keeps you going half the time. I know almost as well as you do that you've had worse than this, but the war is over and you can allow yourself the time to heal properly. I'd strongly advise you to take it. A person can only take so much, however stubborn they are. I know you hate lying around but if you give me your word that you'll rest, I promise we'll keep the visitors to a minimum."
"And if I don't?"
"Well, Molly was most insistent on coming to see you when you woke up. I could tell her that you need the company and she can stay all day...all week," Minerva smiled. "You'll have no end of attention. And of course, even Peeves was worried about you. He's been singing new songs almost non stop an I'm sure he'd love for you to hear them," she added
"...Fine," he grumbled.
"I knew you'd see sense," the medi-witch said, smugly.
"Hmmm," Severus scoffed.
It was an odd thing to get used to now that no one, absolutely no one, seemed to be afraid of him anymore. Granted these two witches in particular had known him since he was an eleven year old boy but that hadn't stopped them from fearing the worst of him during the last year of the war. That had been the point but still, they'd well and truly hated and feared him and for good reason. Now they treated him as as one of them. Someone to be cared for rather than reviled. It wasn't exactly something he was used to and he wasn't sure that he'd ever get used to it.
