Chapter 4

Visiting Friends

It was beginning to become apparent exactly why Molly Weasley had demanded her family accompany her on "a stroll in London" when they reached the dingy department storefront that concealed the public entrance to St. Mungo's. Without so much as an explanation, Molly had approached the dusty mannequin who fielded visitors, and obtained name tags for her and her four present family members. From there, she had directed them inside and into the lift. Now on the13th floor she led the Weasleys down a long flagstone corridor that smelled strongly of antiseptic and was lit with fluorescent lights.

"Leeeft. Leeeft. Left - right - leeeft." George murmured under his breath.

This particular stunt was was a reference to a time then Bill had compared life growing up to being in the military with their mother as the raging general.. The comparison had perhaps hit a little close to home, because Mum had blown up at the accusation and gotten angry, leading Bill to point it out as a case in point… making her angrier still. It was such a ridiculous self-fulfilling prophecy that even Dad had started laughing in the end and now basically we almost never brought it up, unless we were intentionally trying to make Mum annoyed. And Charlie and Ginny marched quietly behind Molly and Arthur, waiting her to turn around and yell at them.

Charlie and Ginny marched behind him. It was juvenile, but so was three adults being dragged to pay respects by their mother.

George's new jokes were like that. About a year after the war, as life had begun to drag itself back toward some sort of normalcy, George had started cracking jokes again, much to everyone's relief. But without his twin, George's comedy had developed a stripped-down quality. Where before, he and Fred would shock everyone with outrageous proclamations and over-the-top pranks, creating dramatic scenes of pure chaos… now George's jokes were often silent, implied rather and enacted, or so subtle you only 'got' them later, when he had left the room and you considered when he had said. Like their family, his sense of humor felt reduced.

"13-E, 13-D, 13-C… aha here we are 13-B, the Quintillius Confundus Sprightly ward for Unidentified Curse Catastrophes. Let's go inside." And look who's here.. Stomping his feet a bit, George marched across the threshold and into the ward, saluting his parents and lifting his knees high. Ginny and Charlie scrambled to copy him, making a straight line of people standing in salute.

"Don't even get me started you three," Molly said crossly. "Go say hello to your brother."

Reluctantly the three siblings approached a swollen, moaning blob that loosely resembled their brother Percy. "Hullo Percy," they said in unison. And then they just stood there, awkwardly lost for words. No one in the Weasley family was actually on speaking terms with Percy.

"Say, look on the bright side, at least his head looks normal," said George. Molly elbowed him.

Percy lifted one elbow a few inches, as if to say 'I'm not dead yet'.

For Ginny the whole scenario was too depressing to bear.

"I'm going to find the toilet." Ginny muttered, and turned toward the door. Her mother gave her the side-eye but said nothing.

"Clean up after your done sis. I'll need to vomit next." George called after her.

…

Not in any hurry, Ginny paced down the long, narrow 13th floor corridor.

Carefully, she placed each footstep directly in front of the last, so that her journey would last the maximum amount of time possible. Despite this being the floor where many of the most seriously ill patients were treated Ginny did not encounter a soul... no healers, and no other visitors. She supposed it was a little sad.

Most of the doorways on this ward were closed, so there really wasn't much to look at as she made slow progress toward her destination at the end of the hall. This left Ginny annoyingly to her thoughts.

When she was younger, Ginny had not really minded times like these. On summer days she would often wake up early, grab a bit of food and take one of her brothers' brooms out into the countryside to practice flying, look at nature, and nap in the sun. These days, her thoughts were a swirling toxic soup that lashed out whenever she was left alone with them. Death, shame, lack of direction, sadness. The strong sense that everything was still completely broken inside and outside, but without a clear adversary upon which to focus her wand.

"Miss Weasley..." growled a voice from inside one of the wards whose door was open. Ginny looked up.

Reflexively she felt a ghost of a familiar shiver that regularly crept up every potions student's spine at Hogwarts. So he was still here.

But Ginny was no longer afraid of her former potions master, especially if he were still in the hospital. After all, he would definitely be the type to discharge himself as soon as humanly possible. If he were still here it must be that he was too weak to care for himself, and had no choice but to be at the mercy of the hospital staff.

Well, perhaps he deserved it.

Whatever her parents said, after being simultaneously Dumbledore's and Voldemort's right hand wizards, as well as the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Ginny thought that it was only fair Snape re-learned what it was like to feel helpless again.

So she directed her feet sharply to the right, and entered the somber ward she had visited during her brief stint as a St. Mungo's Cheerer.

Three sets of billowing mauve curtains hung down from the stone ceiling. All three were closed, but Snape's bed would be the one on the far left, if she remembered correctly. If she did not, well, what did it matter?

"Snape." Ginny said.

He still looked pretty bad. Not that she cared much.

"My savior hath returned," he croaked.

Snape had not been propped up like most hospital patients who were receiving visitors, and so he said these words to the ceiling.

"...or tormentor," he continued.

"Manicurist?"

She laughed once, hollowly.

"What do you want with me now, Professor?"

It must have been something in the tone of her voice, because at this Severus seemed to back down. He did not respond and closed his eyes, shutting off his view of the stone ceiling.

"Well…?" Ginny demanded. "Well?"

"Just a book," he said finally. "From my valise"

"Where?"

Slowly, Snape raised his left hand a few inches off the bed. His long, stick-like forefinger pointed at a black leather briefcase sitting underneath a maroon armchair just inside the area that was curtained off. Not sure why she was following his orders, Ginny knelt down and reached for the valise, undid the latch, and opened the main compartment. The garish fluorescent light immediately reach the bottom. "It's empty."

"No.." Snape protested.

She held up the bag for him to see. "Yes, empty. Tough luck professor. Looks like you'll have to make due without your stories."

"Invisible."

Ginny paused. Was this true? In response she up-ended Snape's valise, causing pens to clatter to the floor and a few coins to jostle, followed by a heavier 'SMACK' as something she could not see hit the floor. She reached out toward the place where the noise had come from and indeed her fingers closed around a thin leather-bound book.

Ginny stood and examined the object more closely. Yes. it was completely invisible from all angles. She opened it to reveal a few hundred brittle, very invisible pages. Then she placed the book to Snape's torso.

"Thank you," he said. "One more thing….it needs to be unlocked." Then Snape jerkily raised his head to look straight at her. He was panting with the effort. His black eyes were full of intensity.

"It needs a transgression."

Ginny paused. A transgression? She considered. "So, you'd like me to spit in your food? Does that get you off?"

"Worse."

She thought for a moment. Then she put her finger to her lips "Worse you say? Hmm what could be worse…Locking children up for days? Forcing them to harvest fire crabs without gloves, or having second years practice stinging hexes on the first years? Withholding letters from families, withholding meals, beatings, being chained by Mr. Filch?"

Still Snape held Ginny's gaze. Then she struck out.

Crucio!

Instantly Snape's body convulsed on the bed, every muscle contracting as he flopped around, his mouth open in a silent scream. Ginny was transfixed. She had never done such a thing before and it was not as Harry had said when he had attempted it - sorry and ineffective. Her spell was terrible.

When Snape's neck went slack she snapped out of it and the spell ended. Suddenly his body was completely still. Ginny thought he was unconscious. And atop his chest lay a thin old book bound in blood red canvas.

Ginny's finger tingled strangely. She had transgressed.