The three men carried Snape through the dark passages and up a staircase. A door opened just ahead of them. The hallways were deserted, the students long having been to bed. It took them only a few minutes to arrive in the Hospital Wing where Minerva McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey were waiting. Dumbledore levitated the professor onto a bed where he was stripped of the rags that had been his clothes.
McGonagall gasped.
Snape looked worse in the light. No part of his body had escaped injury during his captivity. Deep scratches and large black burns covered his chest and stomach, arms and legs. His right side had bruised to a blackish purple, which, Pomfrey solemnly announced, contained broken ribs. McGonagall promptly began cleaning wounds, healing what she could, leaving more extensive damage to Pomfrey's able hands. Flitwick and Dumbledore helped where they could, but the headmaster caught sight of Remus sinking low in a corner. His face was white at the sight of Snape's injuries.
"Remus, go check on Medea. Be sure she is well."
Lupin nodded and escaped from the room. He made his way through the corridors and found a staircase which would take him to the third floor. He found her door, and upon pushing it open, saw in the mirror that she too was in the Hospital Wing where Snape was being cared for. She was speaking softly to him, assuring him of his safety. Her body slumped sideways in the chair where they had left her, eyes closed, black hair flowing over the arm of the chair, nearly touching the floor. The mirror began to fog up again as he lifted her from the chair and moved her to the bed where she could sleep more comfortably. Her eyes opened slowly.
"Professor Lupin," she said in a small voice.
"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"It's fine. I wasn't sure how to wake myself."
"You saw Snape in the Hospital Wing?"
"I did. I didn't want to leave him until I was sure he would be okay."
"Why?"
"Nobody deserves a punishment like that. Even those who have done evil."
Remus was puzzled. "Do you know what Snape was?"
"I don't remember exactly. I only have a sense that it was terrible. And that he felt great remorse afterwards."
Remus was going to respond to this. He wanted to ask her what exactly she could remember about him, but her eyes were closed. She had fallen back to sleep.
Snape remained in the Hospital Wing, unconscious, for just over a week. Though Madame Pomfrey had assured him Snape would be fine, Dumbledore still worried over the effects this experience would have on his colleague and one-time student. As it was, he was embittered by his own past. How would he deal with this?
And what of this young woman, Medea? Though Dumbledore was forever grateful for her help in finding Snape, there was still much about her he could not understand. Where had she been all this time? How did she not age at all? By what magic was she able to connect with his mind when he was in pain?
As he sat thinking to himself in the shadows of the Hospital Room, a low moan brought his attention to the corner of the room where Snape's frail figure had been recuperating for some time now. It was hidden from his and the students' view by several large screens. Dumbledore froze. He had heard several low sounds from his Potions Master over the last week, all of them emanating from the pain he must have been reliving in this healing state of oblivion. Some nights, the headmaster had been drawn, running to the bedside by high screams echoing through the school that had escaped the otherwise still figure.
"Damnation," he heard in the low whisper of Snape's hoarse voice.
Dumbledore pushed past the screens to see Snape attempting to raise himself from the thin mattress. He laid his hands on the man's shoulders and pushed him back down.
"Stay in bed, Severus. You're still very weak."
"What day is it? How long was I-?"
"Nearly Halloween," was the answer. "You have been here in this bed for a little over a week."
"Nearly Halloween," he said to himself.
"The school has been very anxious for you, Severus. The staff and the students."
"I never thought I would see it again."
"You nearly didn't. Remus, Filius, and I found you at the last possible moment."
"Albus, how did you find me?" Snape asked, one eyebrow arching high above the other.
"Ah, an interesting question in itself. And the answer begins not long after you left." Dumbledore told him the story, beginning in Ollivander's shop, meeting the girl, and bringing her to the school. He explained the information he had received from Arthur Weasley and the dreams, which turned out to be visions of Snape in captivity, and ended with the mirror and the Revium, and his own rescue.
Snape remained silent through the telling and a few moments after, deep in thought concerning the story he had been told. Dumbledore waited patiently until he spoke.
"Medea, she is here at the school yet?"
"She is."
"I must see her." He began to raise from the bed again, but was stopped by Dumbledore.
"Not yet. Not yet. When you are well and wholly yourself, I will take you to see her. I can see you have many questions for her, and I'm afraid she will have many for you as well. They will all have to wait until you are stronger. Now, I will let you rest."
Dumbledore slipped behind the screens, leaving Snape to himself in thought. He was curious though. A look had passed over Snape's face as he told the story. It was surprise at first, when he described the girl, but something else, much deeper when he said her name. Shock? Disbelief? He greatly anticipated clearing up Medea's past and finally learning her story, but something told him a price would be paid.