Snape limped up to the door, clutching his side. Whatever magic had been hurled at him wasn't something he was able to fix on his own. That was rare, even more rare now that he'd been injured so often. But all of the usual countercurses had failed him. He had to go to someone for help, and there was no way he was going to the hospital, not when he was one of the most wanted wizards in Britain, right up there with the Dark Lord himself. So he Apparated to the first place he thought of, to the only person he knew who would help him - the only person he trusted to help him - and prayed that she wouldn't shut the door in his face.

Pain radiating through his body, he leaned up against a lamp post for support as he stared into the window. He didn't want to disturb her, but he needed her help. He was about to barge into her little life again, even though they'd decided a few years before that it wasn't a good idea. They both wanted to go looking for each other as soon as they'd fought, but both of them knew a Death Eater and an Auror couldn't get along.

Hazel was sitting in her living room watching the news when she heard the knock. She grabbed her wand, peering out the window before she even approached the door. "Sev?" He was extremely pale, even more than normal. There was pain in his eyes, the look he had on his face when James would really hurt him, when Hazel would help him to the Hospital Wing because it was something way beyond either of their abilities to fix. "Oh Merlin, what happened to you?"

He hovered on her doorstep, trying to string a few words together, but all he could manage was to look down at where he was clutching his left side, look back up at her, and go, "Help me." The mask he'd been clutching clattered to the ground as he swayed, finally leaning against the door frame just to keep himself standing.

Despite how much she wanted to reach out for him, she stuck her wand in his face, brandishing it like a sword. "Tell me something only the real Sev would know."

"Our table," he answered through gritted teeth, "our table at the Three Broomsticks is in a corner near the fire, tucked back into an alcove by the door. You'd always shout at the - at Potter and his people - if they took it." He reached out for her, suddenly extremely dizzy.

Hazel looped her arm under his, helping him to the nearest chair. She flicked her wand at the door, closing and locking it from the kitchen. "What happened to you?"

"You don't want to know." He tried to move the hair out fo his eyes, but it was too painful to raise an arm very far.

With another wave of her wand, the tea kettle filled up and was set to boil. She frowned, unbuttoning his cloak and hanging it by the door. "Well then... was it a curse or some sort of physical impact?"

"Magic, definitely magic. I just don't know what curse it was and nothing's working," he answered as she knelt in front of him, starting to unbutton his shirt.

She paused, sensing the tension that lingered between the two of them. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized. She had been intent on figuring out what was wrong with him, not noticing how he had tensed at her touch. So she stopped, looking up at him. "I assume this is okay."

Snape nodded, finally exhaling. "Go ahead, you kind of have to. Don't mind the scars." He grimaced, adding, "I've fixed a fair amount of wounds myself, but this..."

"You should've gone to a hospital." She stood again, gently helping him try to shrug out of the mass of dark fabric.

"You know I can't," he barely managed.

Setting his shirt aside, Hazel shook her head. "Then why come here? Lumos." She bent to inspect the wound closely, frowning at what she saw.

"You know that too." He was right. No matter how much she hated him, how much she hated the cause he was working for, there was no way she was going to turn him in. As long as he was here, he was safe.

"If I didn't know it was a curse, I'd say it kind of looks like a gunshot wound. Like the Muggle weapons." He recoiled at her touch, but the wound began to bleed. Or more accurately, it began to ooze a mixture of blood and something black. "Oh Merlin, Sev, I know what this is. It's a nasty curse."

He closed his eyes, trying not to focus on the pain. "That means you can fix it, right?"

"I can try. I've only seen it once, in the Auror Office."

After a couple of complex spells, Hazel left him alone for a bit. She brought him a cup of tea and something to eat as she thought about making up the couch for him. He would have to stay there for the night. There was no way he was going to go far, and she would need to keep an eye on him. Besides, he wouldn't be too comfortable wherever he was hiding out. Almost none of the Death Eaters stayed in mansions, the Malfoys aside. She returned with a bottle of dittany ("Lucky I had some on hand, then again, every Auror needs some") and a handful of bandages. Dabbing as much dittany as she could on the magical wound, Hazel ignored the faint green smoke that it produced. Normally it would have been alarming, but this only meant it was working.

Snape winced as she bandaged him up, trying her best to be gentle. "I'm sorry, Sev," she frowned after one particularly sharp inhale.

"It's fine. Thank you... Thank you for doing this."

"Of course." When she was done, Hazel looked him over. The agony was dying from his eyes, replaced by a dull ache. He was still extremely pale, and extremely tired, but he definitely looked better than he had when he nearly fell into the front hall. Snape tried to stand, but instantly reached out for her. "Oh no, you're not going anywhere." She caught him, deciding that now was as good a time as any to move. So they slowly headed for her bedroom, Hazel laying him down.

"I can take the sofa," he objected, trying to get up again.

But she was adamant. "Sev, stay there. It's fine. You'll be fine in the morning." She gave him a sad smile, helping him back into bed. "I'll be back soon."

Tired as she was, there was still the whole ritual of locking up the house to go through. Sure, the front door lock worked just fine, but she also enchanted every window, making doubly sure that nothing and no one could get in. Eventually she came back to the bedroom, watching Sev drift in and out of a fitful sleep. She'd thought of brewing a sleeping potion, but all she had was a calming draught. It was better than nothing, though.

He hardly felt it as she took over the other side of the bed, careful not to move him. Both of them felt when he reached out for her in the hazy twilight of sleep. Hazel smiled to herself as she edged closer, genuinely happy to have him back despite who he was working for. Sev, now completely numbed from the dittany and calming draught, still managed to register how lucky he was. It was lucky that she let him in. Lucky that she knew how to fix the strange curse he had been hit with. And lucky that she was still here, keeping him company. As he fell deeper into sleep, his last coherent thought was of how he never wanted to leave that moment, even if he was going to be in pain in the morning.