Title: Atonement, Chapter 7
By: PepperjackCandy
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: You recognize it? It's J.K. Rowling's. All I own is Alex Farrell.
=============
Alex hurried through the corridors to the hospital wing, where she was greeted by a round-faced young man she'd never met before. "Is Madam Pomfrey here?"
He nodded. "Just a minute. I'll get her for you." He disappeared into Madam Pomfrey's office and returned with the doctor in tow.
"What can I do for you, Professor Farrell?" She asked.
"It's Professor Snape. Something's happened to him. He's not waking up."
Madam Pomfrey looked at the young man. "Get a stretcher, Neville." When the young man returned with the stretcher, the three hurried down to Snape's apartments.
Dumbledore was exactly where Alex had left him, kneeling by Snape's bedside, feeling his pulse, weak yet even, in his wrist.
As Neville moved the stretcher into position, one of the handles slipped from his grasp, crashing to the floor. "Peeves!" He said sternly, "I don't think the Baron would appreciate it if something happened to the Head of his House, do you?"
Alex made a mental note to ask later what that was about.
"Neville, please put Professor Snape on the stretcher," Madam Pomfrey instructed the boy as she began questioning Dumbledore about Snape's condition.
Alex saw the young man blanch slightly, and she got the impression that Neville was afraid, somehow. Thinking that he was afraid he'd drop the Potions Master, Alex silently moved to Snape's head and indicated for Neville to take his feet. Together, they moved Snape's unconscious form to the stretcher and then picked up the stretcher together.
Under Madam Pomfrey's direction, they carried him up the stairs and off to the hospital wing.
Alex heard Neville breathe an audible sigh of relief as they placed him safely on a bed.
"Are you all right?" She asked as they stepped out of the cubicle to allow Madam Pomfrey to examine the Potions Master.
He nodded. "I just kept getting this image of him waking up and yelling at me for handling him wrong. I wasn't Professor Snape's favorite student." The terror in Neville's eyes belied the simplicity of his tone.
She wasn't sure what to say. "Well, I'm certain that once he wakes up, he'll thank you for your help."
He snorted disbelievingly.
"What was that you said before, down in Professor Snape's apartments? Something about Peeves? Isn't he the poltergeist?"
"He's been making my life difficult ever since I started at Hogwarts." Neville said.
He proceeded to give her the condensed version of how Elnora Longbottom had asked Peeves to make Neville look like he could never be a threat to Voldemort, and how apparently Peeves was still following Neville's mother's request.
"And the Baron?" She asked.
"The Bloody Baron's the Slytherin House ghost. He's the only one around here that Peeves listens to. Since it was the Head of Slytherin House that I was helping . . ."
"You threatened Peeves with retribution from the Baron. Good thinking." She smiled at the young man, who blushed a bright scarlet. "Why are you here during the term break? I thought that all of the students have to go home for this break."
"I'm not a student anymore. I'm just here for a visit. I'm going to be working at a clinic in Hogsmeade this year. If I get the job, that is."
He sighed. "Well, looks like Poppy's going to be busy for a while." Neville said, "I guess I'll go back to my room and get ready for my interview tomorrow."
"Good luck." Alex said as Neville left the room.
She waited for a few minutes, and eventually heard a familiar voice from behind the curtain that separated the waiting area from Snape's cubicle. She stepped quietly into the cubicle.
" . . . must have simmered the potion too long. But I needed the sleep. I'd been dreaming, Albus. Dreaming of . . . Laura." He closed his eyes and a tear leaked down his face.
Knowing she was walking in where she wasn't wanted, Alex stepped silently back out into the waiting area, and kept going, all the way back up to her apartments.
She'd been wading through Moody's notes for another half hour when someone knocked at her door. "Come in!" She called out. The door was opened by a very pale and shaken Snape.
"Hello, Professor Farrell." He smiled at her weakly.
"You shouldn't be out of bed!" She gasped as she led him to an overstuffed chair in her living area.
He shrugged. "There wasn't much they could do for me. It's not like I needed to get any more rest." He joked feebly.
"I just wanted to thank you." He said. "For finding me. I accidentally took too much sleeping draught."
"You're welcome."
"Well, I shouldn't keep you from . . . your lesson plans?"
She nodded. "But before you go, I've got to ask you something. It's about Neville Longbottom."
Fire flashed in Snape's eyes. "What about Longbottom?" He asked.
"I helped him carry you up to the hospital wing. He was terrified of you."
Snape smiled then, a little bitterly. "Remember, I'm one of the most-feared teachers on staff here. And with good reason. I terrify them in first year, and never let up until they've graduated. Longbottom's one of my most spectacular successes."
Alex didn't know what to say, so she said the first thing to come to mind. "He's not a student any longer. If you were to speak to him at supper tonight, perhaps. . ."
Snape interrupted her. "Even if I wanted to mend fences with Longbottom, I doubt very much he would be interested."
She knew she wasn't going to get anywhere with that tactic, so she changed the subject. "Did Alastor Moody ever tell you anything about students who had cheated on exams?"
"Yes. A couple of times. Why do you ask?"
"Because, he's driving me absolutely insane."
She handed the sheaf of Moody's notes to Snape, who paged through them, chuckling as he did so. "Poor Alex," He ribbed her. "This is definitely above and beyond the call of duty."
She noticed his use of her Christian name but chose not to press the issue. "I'm just not sure how I'm going to be able to deal with this. After I page through all this for the second years, I have to go through this *and* Lee's notes for the third years, then this and Lee's notes and . . ."
Snape interrupted her. "Don't worry too much about it. Some of your predecessors were more competent than others."
"Oh? Do tell." Alex leaned forward avidly, anxious to avoid having to deal with more of Moody's notes.
"Well, there was Gilderoy Lockhart, who was the seventh years' first teacher, who turned out to be a terrific fraud."
"Really?"
"He'd been stealing information from those who'd had real experience with the Dark Arts, and passing it off as his own."
The mirth went out of him, then. "And then there was Barty Crouch."
Alex blanched. "Crouch? What about him?"
"How would you know Barty Crouch?" Snape asked, tensing.
She noticed his tension. "He's the reason I ended up in wizarding school. He wanted to send me to Azkaban for Apparating without a license."
The tension drained from Snape. "No. I'm talking about Barty Crouch, Jr., his son." Then what she'd said hit him. "You Apparated without a license?"
"I was on duty and it was closing time for a local pub. One customer was harassing some of the others, and so I tried to arrest him for being drunk and disorderly, but he ran. I chased him, and suddenly found myself in Edinburgh. Turns out he'd Disapparated, and I sort of instinctively followed him."
"You're lucky you didn't splinch yourself." Snape said.
"Well, beginner's luck, I guess. I didn't try it again until I was really knew what I was doing."
"So when the Ministry found out that you'd been Apparating without a license. . ." Snape nodded, indicating his understanding of her dilemma.
"Crouch wanted to throw the proverbial book at me, but my advocate finally convinced him to allow me to attend Cabot Academy's wizarding program, and once I was done there, they dropped the charges because I had an American Apparation license."
"A very intelligent advocate."
"Yes. She was." Alex smiled at him. "So, you were saying about Barty Crouch the Younger?"
"I was saying that he was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher . . . two after Lockhart. You don't need to read his notes, either. He was a Death Eater, and didn't teach them anything useful."
"How on Earth did a Death Eater get the job?" Alex asked, disgust evident in her tone.
Snape surreptitiously touched his left arm. "A Death Eater didn't. He kidnapped the real Alastor Moody and took his place as teacher."
They talked for several more minutes, then, about the legitimate past Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers - Lupin, Fogbottom, Lee, and the real Alastor Moody.
Then Snape stood. "Actually," he admitted sheepishly, "I'm not even supposed to be here. Poppy made me promise to go right back to my apartments and rest for the remainder of the day."
"Snape!" Alex admonished him.
"I know." He'd just remembered the threatening note that most likely still lay on the floor of his apartments. "But I just don't want to go back there."
"So?" She shrugged. "Seems you could rest here as well as anywhere else."
She stood and walked to the mantel. "Here." She handed him a book. "This is one of my favorite Muggle novels. You sit there in that comfortable chair and read, and I'll get some work done."
By: PepperjackCandy
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: You recognize it? It's J.K. Rowling's. All I own is Alex Farrell.
=============
Alex hurried through the corridors to the hospital wing, where she was greeted by a round-faced young man she'd never met before. "Is Madam Pomfrey here?"
He nodded. "Just a minute. I'll get her for you." He disappeared into Madam Pomfrey's office and returned with the doctor in tow.
"What can I do for you, Professor Farrell?" She asked.
"It's Professor Snape. Something's happened to him. He's not waking up."
Madam Pomfrey looked at the young man. "Get a stretcher, Neville." When the young man returned with the stretcher, the three hurried down to Snape's apartments.
Dumbledore was exactly where Alex had left him, kneeling by Snape's bedside, feeling his pulse, weak yet even, in his wrist.
As Neville moved the stretcher into position, one of the handles slipped from his grasp, crashing to the floor. "Peeves!" He said sternly, "I don't think the Baron would appreciate it if something happened to the Head of his House, do you?"
Alex made a mental note to ask later what that was about.
"Neville, please put Professor Snape on the stretcher," Madam Pomfrey instructed the boy as she began questioning Dumbledore about Snape's condition.
Alex saw the young man blanch slightly, and she got the impression that Neville was afraid, somehow. Thinking that he was afraid he'd drop the Potions Master, Alex silently moved to Snape's head and indicated for Neville to take his feet. Together, they moved Snape's unconscious form to the stretcher and then picked up the stretcher together.
Under Madam Pomfrey's direction, they carried him up the stairs and off to the hospital wing.
Alex heard Neville breathe an audible sigh of relief as they placed him safely on a bed.
"Are you all right?" She asked as they stepped out of the cubicle to allow Madam Pomfrey to examine the Potions Master.
He nodded. "I just kept getting this image of him waking up and yelling at me for handling him wrong. I wasn't Professor Snape's favorite student." The terror in Neville's eyes belied the simplicity of his tone.
She wasn't sure what to say. "Well, I'm certain that once he wakes up, he'll thank you for your help."
He snorted disbelievingly.
"What was that you said before, down in Professor Snape's apartments? Something about Peeves? Isn't he the poltergeist?"
"He's been making my life difficult ever since I started at Hogwarts." Neville said.
He proceeded to give her the condensed version of how Elnora Longbottom had asked Peeves to make Neville look like he could never be a threat to Voldemort, and how apparently Peeves was still following Neville's mother's request.
"And the Baron?" She asked.
"The Bloody Baron's the Slytherin House ghost. He's the only one around here that Peeves listens to. Since it was the Head of Slytherin House that I was helping . . ."
"You threatened Peeves with retribution from the Baron. Good thinking." She smiled at the young man, who blushed a bright scarlet. "Why are you here during the term break? I thought that all of the students have to go home for this break."
"I'm not a student anymore. I'm just here for a visit. I'm going to be working at a clinic in Hogsmeade this year. If I get the job, that is."
He sighed. "Well, looks like Poppy's going to be busy for a while." Neville said, "I guess I'll go back to my room and get ready for my interview tomorrow."
"Good luck." Alex said as Neville left the room.
She waited for a few minutes, and eventually heard a familiar voice from behind the curtain that separated the waiting area from Snape's cubicle. She stepped quietly into the cubicle.
" . . . must have simmered the potion too long. But I needed the sleep. I'd been dreaming, Albus. Dreaming of . . . Laura." He closed his eyes and a tear leaked down his face.
Knowing she was walking in where she wasn't wanted, Alex stepped silently back out into the waiting area, and kept going, all the way back up to her apartments.
She'd been wading through Moody's notes for another half hour when someone knocked at her door. "Come in!" She called out. The door was opened by a very pale and shaken Snape.
"Hello, Professor Farrell." He smiled at her weakly.
"You shouldn't be out of bed!" She gasped as she led him to an overstuffed chair in her living area.
He shrugged. "There wasn't much they could do for me. It's not like I needed to get any more rest." He joked feebly.
"I just wanted to thank you." He said. "For finding me. I accidentally took too much sleeping draught."
"You're welcome."
"Well, I shouldn't keep you from . . . your lesson plans?"
She nodded. "But before you go, I've got to ask you something. It's about Neville Longbottom."
Fire flashed in Snape's eyes. "What about Longbottom?" He asked.
"I helped him carry you up to the hospital wing. He was terrified of you."
Snape smiled then, a little bitterly. "Remember, I'm one of the most-feared teachers on staff here. And with good reason. I terrify them in first year, and never let up until they've graduated. Longbottom's one of my most spectacular successes."
Alex didn't know what to say, so she said the first thing to come to mind. "He's not a student any longer. If you were to speak to him at supper tonight, perhaps. . ."
Snape interrupted her. "Even if I wanted to mend fences with Longbottom, I doubt very much he would be interested."
She knew she wasn't going to get anywhere with that tactic, so she changed the subject. "Did Alastor Moody ever tell you anything about students who had cheated on exams?"
"Yes. A couple of times. Why do you ask?"
"Because, he's driving me absolutely insane."
She handed the sheaf of Moody's notes to Snape, who paged through them, chuckling as he did so. "Poor Alex," He ribbed her. "This is definitely above and beyond the call of duty."
She noticed his use of her Christian name but chose not to press the issue. "I'm just not sure how I'm going to be able to deal with this. After I page through all this for the second years, I have to go through this *and* Lee's notes for the third years, then this and Lee's notes and . . ."
Snape interrupted her. "Don't worry too much about it. Some of your predecessors were more competent than others."
"Oh? Do tell." Alex leaned forward avidly, anxious to avoid having to deal with more of Moody's notes.
"Well, there was Gilderoy Lockhart, who was the seventh years' first teacher, who turned out to be a terrific fraud."
"Really?"
"He'd been stealing information from those who'd had real experience with the Dark Arts, and passing it off as his own."
The mirth went out of him, then. "And then there was Barty Crouch."
Alex blanched. "Crouch? What about him?"
"How would you know Barty Crouch?" Snape asked, tensing.
She noticed his tension. "He's the reason I ended up in wizarding school. He wanted to send me to Azkaban for Apparating without a license."
The tension drained from Snape. "No. I'm talking about Barty Crouch, Jr., his son." Then what she'd said hit him. "You Apparated without a license?"
"I was on duty and it was closing time for a local pub. One customer was harassing some of the others, and so I tried to arrest him for being drunk and disorderly, but he ran. I chased him, and suddenly found myself in Edinburgh. Turns out he'd Disapparated, and I sort of instinctively followed him."
"You're lucky you didn't splinch yourself." Snape said.
"Well, beginner's luck, I guess. I didn't try it again until I was really knew what I was doing."
"So when the Ministry found out that you'd been Apparating without a license. . ." Snape nodded, indicating his understanding of her dilemma.
"Crouch wanted to throw the proverbial book at me, but my advocate finally convinced him to allow me to attend Cabot Academy's wizarding program, and once I was done there, they dropped the charges because I had an American Apparation license."
"A very intelligent advocate."
"Yes. She was." Alex smiled at him. "So, you were saying about Barty Crouch the Younger?"
"I was saying that he was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher . . . two after Lockhart. You don't need to read his notes, either. He was a Death Eater, and didn't teach them anything useful."
"How on Earth did a Death Eater get the job?" Alex asked, disgust evident in her tone.
Snape surreptitiously touched his left arm. "A Death Eater didn't. He kidnapped the real Alastor Moody and took his place as teacher."
They talked for several more minutes, then, about the legitimate past Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers - Lupin, Fogbottom, Lee, and the real Alastor Moody.
Then Snape stood. "Actually," he admitted sheepishly, "I'm not even supposed to be here. Poppy made me promise to go right back to my apartments and rest for the remainder of the day."
"Snape!" Alex admonished him.
"I know." He'd just remembered the threatening note that most likely still lay on the floor of his apartments. "But I just don't want to go back there."
"So?" She shrugged. "Seems you could rest here as well as anywhere else."
She stood and walked to the mantel. "Here." She handed him a book. "This is one of my favorite Muggle novels. You sit there in that comfortable chair and read, and I'll get some work done."