Six
I walked into the hospital wing later that week to find an assemblage of faculty waiting for me. Apparently Snape had clued Dumbledore in on our plan and he had clued everyone else in. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout had all turned up to present me with a little token and wishes of good luck. Professor Dumbledore had brought Fawkes with him. Though we had ordered a supply of phoenix tears from an apothecary in London he still thought Fawkes might be able to comfort me a bit. After everything had been prepared I was led to the back of the wing, with Madam Pomfrey in the lead and Snape bringing up the rear.
An entire corner of the wing had been sectioned off with those familiar white curtains. I stepped inside to see that a bed had been set up. There were two chairs on each side of it, and the entire arrangement was very formal. It looked like the romantic version of a muggle operating room. To the left of one of the chairs stood a tall table which had been covered in white linen and upon which were laying some sort of instruments. I wandered over to the table, Snape and Pomfrey exchanging worried glances. My breath caught in my throat.
There, cold and metal upon the linen, lay a collection of about five knives with different sized blades. Each of them had a mother of pearl handle and they looked like surgical tools from the turn of the century. I reached out and ran my finger down the longest of the five. I closed my eyes and felt my breath hitch as a hand encompassed mine. I exhaled deeply before looking down to see Snape's hand upon my own.
I looked up into his eyes, which were full of warmth and sincerity. I wasn't used to seeing him in this honest state. It was unnerving. He picked up my hand and led me over to the bed. I sat down and looked all around the sectioned off area. Poppy seemed to have left. When he had had enough of my avoiding him, Snape took my chin between his index finger and thumb, just as he had that first evening we had spent together, and forced me to look into his eyes.
"You'll be fine," he told me with certainty. "I won't let anything happen to you."
"Right." I felt sick. I had been excited about this until just now. I really had. The prospect of getting rid of these infernal scars - these memories of my all too horrific past - had been very appealing. But the sight of the knives and the memory of how it used to feel when - Oh God. I was crying.
He picked me up and held me in that tight embrace of his, and try as I might to fight it I found myself giving in to the warm smell of cinnamon and sage that seemed to surround us. I was still crying silent tears when he leaned down and whispered in my ear.
"Trust me." Trust him? Trust Severus Snape? That seemed somehow the last thing I should do. And yet I did. I couldn't help but trust him. Maybe my classmates were right. Maybe they could see an evil in him that I was blind to. But in my opinion Snape was the only person in the castle I would have wanted next to me at that moment, and so I held on tighter. Eventually Poppy came back and I broke the embrace.
"You'll want to get undressed alone, I assume," she questioned me while shooting a look to Severus. Alone? Yes. Alone would be quite nice thank you kindly. I nodded my head. She turned and beckoned Severus out of the partition. Before he left he slipped a small vial filled with purplish blue liquid.
"Drink this all down just before you cover up. Don't drink it before you're lying down or it will knock you out and you'll hit the floor. Call when you're ready for us." I nodded silently. My heart was racing. I was beginning to sweat. Those knives in the corner were looking more and more ominous as the time drew nearer.
Severus left and I could hear Poppy chattering nervously at him from outside the curtains. In the light of the candles I wondered how well they would be able to see what they were doing. I wished there were a fluorescent light or two in here. I crossed the room and flipped the linen up over the knives. I really didn't feel like seeing them. Then I returned to the bed and lifted my robe up over my head. I folded it neatly and laid it on the chair beside the bed. I then reached around and undid the bodice that was clasped together at my back, removed it, and laid it atop the robe. Next was my skirt and my knickers, which joined my robe and bodice. I couldn't resist the urge to look down at my body.
Angry pinkish white slashes crisscrossed my belly, legs, arms, and chest in aimless patterns. I looked like I had gotten into a fight with a weed eater and lost. I snorted at the thought.
"Anything the matter dear," I heard Poppy call in.
"No," I answered. Even if I felt like relaying the thought of myself brawling with a weed eater, I was pretty sure that neither of them would understand what one was or why that would be funny anyway.
I reached into the pocket of my robe and pulled out the vial. I held it up to the candle light, the better to inspect it. It was thick, its contents swirling inside the glass tube. I pulled the tiny cork off the top and sniffed it. It smelled bitter. Almost like elderberries. I wrinkled my nose and hoped it tasted better than it smelled. I lay back in the bed, which was immensely comfortable, and covered myself with the feather duvet. Then, without hesitation, I tilted my head back and opened my throat, letting the entire dose tumble down.
I blinked. I felt nothing. I blinked again and looked around. Almost a minute went by and I wondered if anything was going to happen. And then it hit me. It was as if a wave had crashed into my head, starting at the front and working its way back. With each wave of the narcotic I could feel my sense of reality slipping farther and father away. I could still see everything clearly. I could still hear Poppy and Snape chatting behind the curtains. Could still see the lumps under the white linen that were the knives. Could still see the flame dancing in the thin castle air. And yet, everything was somehow changed. Somehow less real.
"All set, then," I heard Snape's voice from my right. I turned my head lazily and rolled my eyes to face him. I nodded. He smiled. I smiled. He stepped silently between the curtains and advanced on me. I held out my arm, my fingers splayed, to him. He took the vial that was rolling around in my palm and inspected it.
"Drank it all down did you?"
I nodded, a placid smile plastered across my face.
"You should be feeling comfortable then."
"I am," I answered. My voice sounded strained, as if it took all my energy to muster it up. I would have been worried, but I was too happy to worry at the moment. "What's in this?"
"Opium. Cannabis. A few inactive ingredients to thicken it and make it coat the stomach." He reached out and brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. I closed them and savored the way my skin tingled as he ran his fingers against it. I sighed. This was the most relaxed I had been at Snape's touch since we had started this whole thing. And then Poppy had come bustling in and broken it up. Damn you Poppy.
"Well, I trust you're ready then," she asked breathlessly as she began to prepare her things. I looked at Snape. He nodded slightly. I nodded too. This was it, I thought to myself. Too late to go back now. Poppy turned to the table full of knives and uncovered them. I felt my stomach give a lurch and squeezed Snape's hand with fervor. He laid his hand on my forehead and stroked my hair back from my face. I swallowed thickly.
Poppy selected a knife, one of the medium sized ones, and came back over and resumed her seat next to me. She had dragged over a table that contained a large bottle of clear liquid and an eye dropper. I supposed that was the phoenix tears.
When she had everything all set up she turned to me, sympathy in her eyes, and said, "now, dear, this is going to sting a bit. You just hold on to Severus and let us know if it gets to be too much. If you feel that you can, just let yourself drift off and when you wake up this will all be over with." I nodded. Go to sleep while you're hacking away at my scar tissue? I don't think so. I wished she'd just get on with it.
When she picked up the knife I turned my head. She drew my arm out from the covers and I made a fist as tight as I could. I closed my eyes tight and with my other hand squeezed Severus' hand harder than I ever had before. I think I heard him gasp in pain but I couldn't be sure because the analgesic was making everything swim together.
I felt the cold tip of the knife on my skin. I sucked my breath in and held it, pursing my lips together tight. When I felt it slide into my skin and slice my arm open all over again I fought back the urge to scream with everything I had. I shook with pain and frustration and wondered why this potion wasn't numbing my nerve endings yet.
Poppy worked quickly, just as Michael had. Before I knew it my entire arm had been reopened and I could feel blood running down my arm in little rivulets and streams, pooling at the tips of my fingers, and dripping from there onto the floor. Then, just when I thought I could take no more I heard her place the knife back on the table and pick up the bottle.
I opened one eye tentatively to see Snape looking firmly down into my face. "You're doing beautifully," he told me in a whisper and I heard Poppy mutter an assent from behind me. Then I felt the first drop of tears on the wounds. It was awful. Anyone who ever tells you that phoenix tears are refreshing is a big fat liar. The cuts began to itch and sting as if they had been filled with salt. I whimpered.
"Does it hurt," Poppy asked as she stopped applying the tears, her hand frozen over my arm in midair.
I nodded. I found my voice. "It burns. And it stings. And itches horribly," I managed to spit out.
"Can you stand it," Snape asked anxiously. I nodded again and pressed my lips together to keep from crying out. And that was how I spend the next four hours of my life. I was in pain. I was uncomfortable. I itched like I had poison ivy over my whole body and there was nothing I could do to stop it. And the strangest part is that the whole time all I could think about was how good it felt to have Severus Snape hold me. I am a total dork.
I walked into the hospital wing later that week to find an assemblage of faculty waiting for me. Apparently Snape had clued Dumbledore in on our plan and he had clued everyone else in. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout had all turned up to present me with a little token and wishes of good luck. Professor Dumbledore had brought Fawkes with him. Though we had ordered a supply of phoenix tears from an apothecary in London he still thought Fawkes might be able to comfort me a bit. After everything had been prepared I was led to the back of the wing, with Madam Pomfrey in the lead and Snape bringing up the rear.
An entire corner of the wing had been sectioned off with those familiar white curtains. I stepped inside to see that a bed had been set up. There were two chairs on each side of it, and the entire arrangement was very formal. It looked like the romantic version of a muggle operating room. To the left of one of the chairs stood a tall table which had been covered in white linen and upon which were laying some sort of instruments. I wandered over to the table, Snape and Pomfrey exchanging worried glances. My breath caught in my throat.
There, cold and metal upon the linen, lay a collection of about five knives with different sized blades. Each of them had a mother of pearl handle and they looked like surgical tools from the turn of the century. I reached out and ran my finger down the longest of the five. I closed my eyes and felt my breath hitch as a hand encompassed mine. I exhaled deeply before looking down to see Snape's hand upon my own.
I looked up into his eyes, which were full of warmth and sincerity. I wasn't used to seeing him in this honest state. It was unnerving. He picked up my hand and led me over to the bed. I sat down and looked all around the sectioned off area. Poppy seemed to have left. When he had had enough of my avoiding him, Snape took my chin between his index finger and thumb, just as he had that first evening we had spent together, and forced me to look into his eyes.
"You'll be fine," he told me with certainty. "I won't let anything happen to you."
"Right." I felt sick. I had been excited about this until just now. I really had. The prospect of getting rid of these infernal scars - these memories of my all too horrific past - had been very appealing. But the sight of the knives and the memory of how it used to feel when - Oh God. I was crying.
He picked me up and held me in that tight embrace of his, and try as I might to fight it I found myself giving in to the warm smell of cinnamon and sage that seemed to surround us. I was still crying silent tears when he leaned down and whispered in my ear.
"Trust me." Trust him? Trust Severus Snape? That seemed somehow the last thing I should do. And yet I did. I couldn't help but trust him. Maybe my classmates were right. Maybe they could see an evil in him that I was blind to. But in my opinion Snape was the only person in the castle I would have wanted next to me at that moment, and so I held on tighter. Eventually Poppy came back and I broke the embrace.
"You'll want to get undressed alone, I assume," she questioned me while shooting a look to Severus. Alone? Yes. Alone would be quite nice thank you kindly. I nodded my head. She turned and beckoned Severus out of the partition. Before he left he slipped a small vial filled with purplish blue liquid.
"Drink this all down just before you cover up. Don't drink it before you're lying down or it will knock you out and you'll hit the floor. Call when you're ready for us." I nodded silently. My heart was racing. I was beginning to sweat. Those knives in the corner were looking more and more ominous as the time drew nearer.
Severus left and I could hear Poppy chattering nervously at him from outside the curtains. In the light of the candles I wondered how well they would be able to see what they were doing. I wished there were a fluorescent light or two in here. I crossed the room and flipped the linen up over the knives. I really didn't feel like seeing them. Then I returned to the bed and lifted my robe up over my head. I folded it neatly and laid it on the chair beside the bed. I then reached around and undid the bodice that was clasped together at my back, removed it, and laid it atop the robe. Next was my skirt and my knickers, which joined my robe and bodice. I couldn't resist the urge to look down at my body.
Angry pinkish white slashes crisscrossed my belly, legs, arms, and chest in aimless patterns. I looked like I had gotten into a fight with a weed eater and lost. I snorted at the thought.
"Anything the matter dear," I heard Poppy call in.
"No," I answered. Even if I felt like relaying the thought of myself brawling with a weed eater, I was pretty sure that neither of them would understand what one was or why that would be funny anyway.
I reached into the pocket of my robe and pulled out the vial. I held it up to the candle light, the better to inspect it. It was thick, its contents swirling inside the glass tube. I pulled the tiny cork off the top and sniffed it. It smelled bitter. Almost like elderberries. I wrinkled my nose and hoped it tasted better than it smelled. I lay back in the bed, which was immensely comfortable, and covered myself with the feather duvet. Then, without hesitation, I tilted my head back and opened my throat, letting the entire dose tumble down.
I blinked. I felt nothing. I blinked again and looked around. Almost a minute went by and I wondered if anything was going to happen. And then it hit me. It was as if a wave had crashed into my head, starting at the front and working its way back. With each wave of the narcotic I could feel my sense of reality slipping farther and father away. I could still see everything clearly. I could still hear Poppy and Snape chatting behind the curtains. Could still see the lumps under the white linen that were the knives. Could still see the flame dancing in the thin castle air. And yet, everything was somehow changed. Somehow less real.
"All set, then," I heard Snape's voice from my right. I turned my head lazily and rolled my eyes to face him. I nodded. He smiled. I smiled. He stepped silently between the curtains and advanced on me. I held out my arm, my fingers splayed, to him. He took the vial that was rolling around in my palm and inspected it.
"Drank it all down did you?"
I nodded, a placid smile plastered across my face.
"You should be feeling comfortable then."
"I am," I answered. My voice sounded strained, as if it took all my energy to muster it up. I would have been worried, but I was too happy to worry at the moment. "What's in this?"
"Opium. Cannabis. A few inactive ingredients to thicken it and make it coat the stomach." He reached out and brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. I closed them and savored the way my skin tingled as he ran his fingers against it. I sighed. This was the most relaxed I had been at Snape's touch since we had started this whole thing. And then Poppy had come bustling in and broken it up. Damn you Poppy.
"Well, I trust you're ready then," she asked breathlessly as she began to prepare her things. I looked at Snape. He nodded slightly. I nodded too. This was it, I thought to myself. Too late to go back now. Poppy turned to the table full of knives and uncovered them. I felt my stomach give a lurch and squeezed Snape's hand with fervor. He laid his hand on my forehead and stroked my hair back from my face. I swallowed thickly.
Poppy selected a knife, one of the medium sized ones, and came back over and resumed her seat next to me. She had dragged over a table that contained a large bottle of clear liquid and an eye dropper. I supposed that was the phoenix tears.
When she had everything all set up she turned to me, sympathy in her eyes, and said, "now, dear, this is going to sting a bit. You just hold on to Severus and let us know if it gets to be too much. If you feel that you can, just let yourself drift off and when you wake up this will all be over with." I nodded. Go to sleep while you're hacking away at my scar tissue? I don't think so. I wished she'd just get on with it.
When she picked up the knife I turned my head. She drew my arm out from the covers and I made a fist as tight as I could. I closed my eyes tight and with my other hand squeezed Severus' hand harder than I ever had before. I think I heard him gasp in pain but I couldn't be sure because the analgesic was making everything swim together.
I felt the cold tip of the knife on my skin. I sucked my breath in and held it, pursing my lips together tight. When I felt it slide into my skin and slice my arm open all over again I fought back the urge to scream with everything I had. I shook with pain and frustration and wondered why this potion wasn't numbing my nerve endings yet.
Poppy worked quickly, just as Michael had. Before I knew it my entire arm had been reopened and I could feel blood running down my arm in little rivulets and streams, pooling at the tips of my fingers, and dripping from there onto the floor. Then, just when I thought I could take no more I heard her place the knife back on the table and pick up the bottle.
I opened one eye tentatively to see Snape looking firmly down into my face. "You're doing beautifully," he told me in a whisper and I heard Poppy mutter an assent from behind me. Then I felt the first drop of tears on the wounds. It was awful. Anyone who ever tells you that phoenix tears are refreshing is a big fat liar. The cuts began to itch and sting as if they had been filled with salt. I whimpered.
"Does it hurt," Poppy asked as she stopped applying the tears, her hand frozen over my arm in midair.
I nodded. I found my voice. "It burns. And it stings. And itches horribly," I managed to spit out.
"Can you stand it," Snape asked anxiously. I nodded again and pressed my lips together to keep from crying out. And that was how I spend the next four hours of my life. I was in pain. I was uncomfortable. I itched like I had poison ivy over my whole body and there was nothing I could do to stop it. And the strangest part is that the whole time all I could think about was how good it felt to have Severus Snape hold me. I am a total dork.