Title: When Harry Left Severus
rating: R for adult themes including male/male relationships.

Chapter 12 - The Abyss
by: Raven Dancer

disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling except for the Drs. Barnes, Daniel Murphy and Beryl. I receive no monetary compensation for these works.


************~************

It wasn't like waking up because he hadn't been asleep. It was more like the entire world blinked and became aware of the miserable bundle of emotional rags curled up in a tight ball.

Jeffrey felt the movement, a slight tremble that seemed to come from the middle of the wizard's stomach.

he called and the second Healer moved by him, putting his hands on the wretched mess. Together they pulsed and rubbed, cuddled and coerced until Snape released his body and let them stretch him out. He supposed he must have cried; his shirt was wet and slimed. It was removed as well as his pants. A warm washcloth ran over him until he was clean enough for them.

Not that he cared. Not that the touching and comfort felt remotely good. He didn't care. But they'd never let him leave unless he pretended to be better. Then with a clean conscious they could release him into the world.

And he could disappear like the world wanted him to.

At the least that was what his shattered mind told him at that moment. The mind that conveniently forgot these wizards would never let him go. He dully looked about, saw that the breakfast dishes had been abandoned to the table. Saw the looks of what he thought was shame on the faces of Lupin and Black. Saw his mentor whom he'd let down most of all.

But there were no tears left in him. No more sadness. Just an emptiness.

Sorry, Dr. James, Jeffrey. Just was a bit taken aback. I'll
be fine, Snape said evenly, lying through his teeth. Perhaps if he could get dressed he could go out for a walk. A long walk...

But he had no clothes. At least, none of his own. He vaguely recalled coming from the clinic to the Headmaster's rooms. No, no clothing at all. This would require some careful planning, getting clothes and leaving. He wondered if Dumbledore would miss one set of robes? He had such a large closetful. He glanced at the bedroom door and considered the possibility.

And it was cold. So very cold. The warmth from the washcloth forgotten as waves of blackness crashed over him. Not even a robe left. He knew they were laughing at him. All of them. Even if there was no sound anymore. The silence of his existence swirled around him. Every time he had thought he'd reached rock bottom during the past several years mocked him as he settled into this latest abyss.

A straw was pushed to his lips, but he didn't sip. He didn't need to drink anything. He only needed to curl up and make everything disappear. He tried, tried to pull his legs up as he felt his body shiver. Cold; ice flowing through his veins.

The straw left. He once more tried to roll up into a small ball but was thwarted by the Healers. Snape was aware of energy pulses coursing through his body but it made no difference. He was nothing. Energy couldn't work unless there was someone to accept it. His head was pulled back and something was shoved between his teeth. Liquid splashed over his tongue and pooled at the back of his throat.

At some point he realized he couldn't breath. There was stuff in his mouth and his nose seemed to be plugged up.

Sputtering, he swallowed the slightly sweet potion and gasped in a few lungfuls of air. He could feel the liquid in his stomach and it seemed to radiate a small kernel of warmth. He gripped his belly wanting to rip it out. He deserved no warmth, no consideration. But his hands were moved away as he felt himself being bound in a blanket. First wrapped around his body, then wrapped firmly around his arms pinioning them to his sides. He considered struggling but discarded the thought as the darkness welled up and he was lost once again.




The world blinked again and he was now warm. So warm. Wrapped up in someone's arms and another wrapped around them both. It was so warm and he listened to the rush of blood, the gentle lub-dub, of the heart beating next to his ear. With a whimper he tried to nestled nearer to that wonderful sound and was immediately allowed to come even closer. Warm air tickled down through his hair against his scalp and he thought he felt something like a kiss pressed against the same spot.

The body behind him cuddled closer. Gentle hands on his face, on his arm, on his thigh. The warmth permeating through him. He'd been upset. Had been upset and had become so cold that it seemed he'd never been warm, never felt anything but ice running through him, surrounding him. Trapping him.

But not now. Now it was all warmth and air, his body surrounded by soft, gentle hands and the soothing heartbeat of whomever some of those hands belonged to. He imagined there was someone talking, the air plosive at times against his hair.

Not talking. Singing. Soft gentle lullabies. As soft and gentle as the hands touching him. He sighed and tumbled finally into sleep. Warm, cleansing sleep.


He woke with the sunlight dancing against the wall, spilling across the bed and the smell of a warm spring day well on its way into afternoon. His blanket cocoon was gone. The play of the covers was soothing against his skin. He was nestled between softly-clothed bodies.

Still Warm.

Good afternoon Severus, Dr. James calmly intoned. He'd sent his son to care for Harry and had enlisted Dumbledore, Lupin and Black to alternate in the bed to keep his patient lulled by human touch.

Hullo, Severus, Black greeted the waking wizard with a nuzzle.

Snape managed, wriggling a bit between the two wizards. They let him roll onto his stomach hugging into the warmth of the bed. It felt so incredibly good. Their hands moved up and down the long planes of his back.

It's good you're awake, Severus, Black continued but did not ask any questions, not even do you want breakfast' since Dr. James had forbade any questions of any sort. The Healer moved his face down and kissed Snape's shoulder affectionately.

Dobby decided he would obey Dr. James' rules and asked no questions. He did not even speak as soon as he saw his master was awake, but brought into the bedroom a fragrant dish of chicken and dumplings. Not a question. Simply a statement. Snape's stomach started growling immediately.

The Potions Master sniffed the air. It smelled gooood. What was it? Chicken? Was it rosemary? Questions started filling his mind and he moved onto his side facing Dr. James.

Can I have some? Snape asked, eyes big and pleading. The Healer ran his hand over his patient's face.

Of course, Severus. You may have as much as you'd like, he responded and carefully sat up. Pesky elf! But the Healer was very glad for the wonderful food aromas that added to the comfort of his patient. With Black's help Snape was wrapped in a soft flannel blanket and curled up onto Dr. James' lap. The animagus held the bowl of food under the twitching nose before offering a small bite.

Snape purred with pleasure. It was so impossibly good. The light, the warmth, the food. He knew he'd been upset but he didn't know why. Something about being hurt? But he could not remember, all he could do was focus on here, now, the warmth and the food and the Healer's heart beating beneath his ear.

Dumbledore sat near the bed watching quietly. The Healer had used some extreme potions to calm Snape. They'd all been cautioned not to ask any questions and not to make any conversation within hearing. They were confined to simple, positive statements and very slow, soothing movements.

Snape's collapse had been complete. Unprepared, not over his beating, the loss of his only sanctuary had pushed him over an edge they had been struggling to keep him from. But as horrible as the fall had been Dumbledore was also worried about the potions the Healers forced into his child. Strong, mind-ensnaring potions that were carefully regulated by the medical branch of the ministry.

The irony that Harry, and to a lesser degree Ron, had been trapped by similar drugs was not lost on the Headmaster. The difference was in strength and usage. The Healers had actually given Snape a stronger dosage than either boy. But the dose was not accompanied by the dark spells that controlled the person nearly like an Imperious curse. Nearly, but since it was not the unforgivable curse the punishment was much less than the dementor's kiss or even imprisonment in Azkaban. Black had asked Murphy straight away when the Healers announced the cause of Harry's problems.

The stronger dose left Snape completely susceptible to everyone around him which was exactly why Dr. James was controlling the ill wizard's environment completely. To the point where no one but the Healer was allowed to be left alone with Snape. To the point where no one was allowed to speak or touch Snape unless Dr. James was right there to observe.

Which was a very good thing given how very motivated Black and Lupin were to comfort. Snape was completely vulnerable to any suggestion and would want to please whoever he was with. Given his heightened sensitivity to stimulus any stray hand or comment would certainly elicit a strong response.

Given how much those two men had been drooling before a blissfully erotic Snape would cause some definite problems. Not the least a full heart attack for the Headmaster after he blasted the offending party off the face of the planet.

The taste of rosemary and chicken filled him, but it was the thick bready dumpling that actually overwhelmed Snape. Dr. James rocked and soothed the wizard until he was somewhat calmer, although now he was wrapped tightly into the older wizard, his only reference point in his world.

The original plate of food disappeared and was replaced by a simple mug of warm broth. The straw was pressed passed the passive lips. Snape slowly suckled up the liquid without daring to open his eyes. All the sensations were bombarding him. Before he'd finished the mug the Healer carefully tipped a small vial into the dregs and it was swallowed with the last few sips.

Warm, so warm. He rubbed his face against the warmth and drew in the elusive scent of Dr. James. Yawning he nestled against the heart beating within and lost himself completely in the sound.

He's asleep, Dr. James said quietly.

Severus' better, right? Black asked with a hint of stridency in his voice.

Yes, Severus' is better. He's no longer lost in his
depression. We will work him through his loss, Dr. James said firmly. There was no doubt in his or his son's mind that the Potions Master would come through. Just some concern about how strong he would eventually be. There had been too many changes, too many life altering events, to let them believe he'd ever be the exact person he was before.

No one would be.

How long will he sleep this time? Dumbledore asked as he moved to the bedside, being sure not to touch until the Healer nodded.

Four or five hours. Do you want to take a turn here so
I can shower and eat? Dr. James asked lightly. He knew both Black and Lupin wanted to be asked, but he too worried about inadvertent stimulation. Dumbledore was not a concern.

The Headmaster rose and levitated the sleeping wizard. Barnes slipped out and was quickly replaced, Snape barely registered the change. Curled up and smiling faintly he slept on in his oblivion.




Dr. Jeffrey Barnes had his hands full and he briefly wondered if his father had gotten the better end of the deal. This thought was set aside as superfluous. This was his expertise, working with the minds of their patients. Sighing he looked at Harry.

The young wizard was no longer manic, no longer screaming about the injustices done to him by Snape and to a lessor extent Dumbledore. No longer wanting to see his lover so much that he shivered convulsively. He glanced at Molly Weasley and decided he'd have to have a cuppa tea with her sometime. She was a formidable witch who sat through all of Harry's ravings without once breaking.

Next to her was her son Bill. He was pale and drawn from his exertions although Barnes knew the wizard had not been with Harry the entire time. He'd been with his younger brother, Ron. The youngest Weasley wizard was currently with Hagrid, preferring to be busy and far away from his best friend. His own ensnaring potions had completely leeched out of his system during the night. Hence poor Bill's current state.

Sizing up the situation Barnes stood without saying a word to the babbling Harry. Since the potions were finally wearing off the confusion had tripled. He moved past him with a comforting pat to the shoulder and reached out his hand to the Gringott's Cursebreaker.

Come here, Bill. Let's get you settled first, Jeffrey said with a comforting smile. Bill would have refused but his Mother nudged him.

Go on, honey, you've been a wonderful support for me and
your brother. Let Dr. Barnes help you now, Molly urged. Harry fell silent. Bill was in pain? How did he miss the sharp lines and dark shadows that haunted the older Weasley brother? And why hadn't he asked earlier what had happened to him? He used to be concerned about people, especially people that were like family to him.

He watched as the Healer pulled Bill into a hug, pulsing the tired wizard. As the pulsing continued the red-haired wizard relaxed more and more finally going mostly limp. Harry recalled that there were very few full Healers in the wizarding world and considered the possibility Bill was being treated by a medi-wizard for his illness.

Soon Bill was being placed on the bed and the comforter loosely pulled over him. Molly stood next to Barnes soothing her son's face.

Thank you Jeffrey, Molly said softly. He's had a hard
time this past month. Barnes patted her shoulder.

Dr. Atterly is very good, he said quietly.

But not a Healer. I am sorry that we have to be here
because Ron and Harry have been hurt. But I am very
thankful for Bill; just a few days with you and your father
have done wonders for him, the witch sighed.

Molly, I hope there isn't a next time' for Bill, but if there
is then send us an owl or bring him round. Traditional
healing is good for dragon burns, but what he went through
really requires a different treatment, Barnes said.
In fact, perhaps he should stay here for a few weeks. I
will tend to him. I have to be here for Severus, too. Molly looked relieved, her body sagging slightly before she pulled herself together.

Harry sat burning with curiosity. What had happened to Bill that would require different treatment? The witch seemed to feel the questions being silently asked as she sat down next to the bed and her sleeping child. She looked at Harry with a wane smile.

Bill was trapped in a cave-in while on assignment. He
and three others. They were lost for only' thirty hours, Molly said with a trace of disgust.
When they pulled them out one wizard had died from his
injuries and another was unconscious. Bill and the goblin,
Osssek, were mostly alert. The broken bones were fixed
easily enough but he's still disturbed by the dark and closed
in places.

Harry shuddered. To be trapped underground in the dark must have been horrible.

Being trapped is terrible, whether physically or by spells, Barnes commented, looking directly at Harry. Perhaps it was time to start removing the blocks.
You, for instance, have been trapped for longer than thirty
hours, said the Healer. He moved to the chair next to Harry.

The savior of the wizarding world squirmed uncomfortably. He still loved Vachel, but he was confused about his other actions. Why had he been so angry with Snape? He now clearly remembered leaving for France and traveling two weeks with Hermione and Ron meeting many people. He couldn't recall why he'd been so mad. Wincing he touched his forehead. Damned headache.

Barnes prompted.

I have this sharp pain. Whenever I try to remember certain
events I get a piercing headache, he explained. The Healer came closer and touched his brow nosing about.

What were you just thinking of? Barnes prompted.

Trying to recall why I hated Severus so much. I mean, I
can vaguely recall our last days together and they don't
jibe with what I've been OOH... Harry tried to explain when suddenly he felt something jerk in is head; a sharp pain that immediately dulled and disappeared.

And there were his memories of Snape. Warm and prickly like the Potions Master. As he silently explored them he recalled Vachel and some of his friends discussing how horrible Snape had been: how he'd trapped Harry, held him against his will, forced him to have sex.

But that wasn't true! If anything Snape had been hard pressed to get Harry to leave even for a few weeks. And as for the sex part, it seemed in retrospect he'd done all the advances and pushing, not Snape at all. In fact they hadn't had sex at all for weeks before Harry had left for France.

At some point Molly had come to his side and was simply stroking his hair back from his face. With a lost expression he suddenly focused on the witch.

They told me that Snape had hurt me, held me in his home.
He never did that! Why did I believe them? he lamented.

Because they blocked the true memories and inserted their
own, Harry. You really had no choice but to believe them, Barnes said very gently.

I don't understand why, the very young-looking wizard whimpered as a few tears rolled down his face.

I'm afraid we're going to have to wait until Officer Murphy
can locate and retrieve Vachel to find that out, Barnes replied. He took Harry's hand and massaged it gently while Molly ran her hands over his quivering back. This would take some time.