Title – The Price We Pay 4/12
Rating – PG-13/T
Disclaimer – I own none of this, it all belongs to Rowling. I just have the honor of using her creations in my story. No slash, sex or profanity.
Summary – Snape awakens.
A/N – There has been some confusion as to why Dumbledore considers Snape "his child." In my story they are not actually father and son but they have a paternal, mentor-like friendship. Sorry if I didn't make it clear before and hopefully this chapter explains why Dumbledore feels that way toward Snape and vice versa. Ok, on to other news, HUGE thanks to everyone who has reviewed! I really appreciate every word you have to say and they encourage me to write faster! All reviews, corrections, suggestions and questions are welcome! Read and enjoy!
The Price We Pay
Chapter 3
Consciousness returned slowly to him, which was very odd because he was used to snapping awake at the first sign of someone approaching his cell. He struggled through the layers of sleep, pausing to wonder about the strange sensations penetrating the haze of his mind. Dimly, he could hear a voice speaking somewhere above him, but it was a soft, quiet voice, very different from the harsh or mocking voices of his captors so he ignored it. He could not understand what it was saying anyway and did not feel like expending the energy necessary to identify the words. It would let him know what it wanted sooner or later with a spell or a fist.
He carefully took stock of his body and was surprised to discover many of his aches and pains had been healed. Warmth surrounded him, driving away the bitter cold that filled his bones and gave him some measure of strength to his weakened body. He felt like crying at the kindness that was being given to him. He also found he could not open his eyes as they were bound with a blindfold, but after living in the dark for so long it did not bother him. Strangely, he was still able to perceive there was light and life around him. The light reminded him strongly of a place he used to know and his mind was able to find a few scattered memories of a hidden castle, shifting staircases and enchanted ceilings. He hoped he would be able to remember more of this castle as he had the feeling it was one of the few good memories he had. The bright light was like a balm on his dark, empty soul, even if it did make his head pound with an unnatural headache.
Everything was all very soothing to his extremely sore body and he found he was actually enjoying the new game the Dark Lord was playing with him now. He was torn between giggling with delight at the new sensations and hiding in fear from them. Whatever was going on he was sure it would only end in pain and humiliation for him. It always did.
The soft voice returned and the warmth blanketing his body began to fade. He wanted to hold on to the blankets or tell the voice to not take the comforting heat away, but his heavy limbs would not obey him and he knew it was pointless to use his voice. Frowning in confusion, he wondered why the soft voice was taking away something good. Not understanding what the voice was trying to tell him, he resigned himself to this new game and gave up. There was nothing he could do about it, as he was so often reminded. The soft voice continued to speak and he felt the tendrils of magic invade his body and find the few lingering curses placed on him by the Dark Lord. He was surprised when the curses were removed, though surprise then turned to fear, as he knew the Dark Lord would not be pleased, not at all. That grim thought made him shiver with anticipated pain and he quickly sank back into the haze of his mind, concentrating on nothing in particular.
Only when a new, deeper voice started to speak to him did he struggle back through the haze to find out what was going on. The soft voice was speaking to this new voice and he frowned inwardly as the noises made his headache worse. His head was throbbing now in time with the rest of his bodily aches and it was hard to think and pay attention. The deep voice was speaking again and as he lay there half-listening there was something about this voice that triggered a reaction deep in his mind. Broken memories shifted around until one memory in particular came together with startling clarity. It wasn't often he could remember things with perfect lucidity, but the now familiar voice brought this memory to the front of his mind.
His mind was frozen with paralyzing fear by images of a moving tree, a dark tunnel and a snarling, ferocious beast. The memory ended with the beast reaching for him with long claws and suddenly he recognized the deep voice that was in the very same room as him. Werewolf.
He began to shake in fear and helplessness and his body twisted in the blankets, seeking to flee the monster of his nightmares. The small rational part of his mind somehow knew the werewolf was not a danger to him now, but the fear of the memory, combined with the fear of his current situation compelled him to escape and hide.
The werewolf was speaking to him again, voice loud to his ears, though he paid no attention to it; his attention was now focused on hiding. He was working on untangling himself from the blankets, which was a lot harder given he was still very weak, when large hands suddenly gripped his shoulders. Gasping sharply, his body instinctively reacted and lashed out with all his strength, which was not much, but enough to cause the werewolf to release him and step away with a groan. Now that he was free he frantically escaped the bed he was laying on, landing on the floor with a hard thump. He jarred his healing wounds and low waves of pain traveled through his sensitive body. The sudden pain made him remember more recent recollections of torture and he panicked in absolute fear. Still tangled in the blankets, he was unable to stop shaking or see where the voices were, but that did not stop him from trying to hide. Curling into a small ball he huddled on the floor, withdrawing into himself to escape the monsters. With a small whimper he began rocking, wishing for someone to save him from this living nightmare.
- & -
Stepping away from the bed Remus Lupin groaned and rubbed his now sore nose, scowling at Snape. His anger soon faded when he realized Snape's panicked response was clearly a defensive reaction to months of violent captivity. Lupin was torn between attempting to calm Snape down and running to find Madame Pomfrey. But he stood still, eyes locked on the scene playing out before him, legs unable to move. He did not mean to cause such a severe reaction from Snape and felt horrible that he had failed to carry out Pomfrey's simple instructions.
Lupin had been visiting Harry and his friends that morning, keeping them up to date with news from around the wizarding world and reports from within the Order of the Phoenix. The werewolf was enjoying a nice talk with Harry when Madame Pomfrey had asked him if he could assist her with removing lingering curses from their new patient. He knew Snape was alive, having seen Dumbledore rescue the former spy from Voldemort's manor himself, however it was still strange seeing him in a hospital bed, looking deathly ill. Lupin had agreed to keep an eye on the former spy while Pomfrey went and prepared his numerous potions. When Snape appeared to be in the midst of a nightmare Lupin had held his shoulders and tried to calm the agitated patient. Everything he had said only served to upset Snape further and he made it worse by touching the traumatized victim.
"Poppy! Come in here quick!" Lupin called out and frowned when Snape flinched and scooted further away from him, curling on the floor like a frightened animal. Pomfrey hurried in with a tray full of potions, which she set down on a table, and came to stand by Lupin. Her eyes went wide as she exclaimed,
"What did you do Remus! What happened?"
"I don't know! I was just talking to him, helping him wake up when he panicked! I couldn't get him to calm down."
Pomfrey stared at Snape, who had started to make small whimpering noises and shook her head weakly. Making up her mind she took a cautious step forward, kneeling beside the bed and appearing as non-threatening as possible. Holding out her hands the nurse slowly inched forward to touch the blankets trapping Snape and said in a very soft voice,
"Severus? It's me, Poppy. Everything will be all right. Let's just get you back into bed so I can treat your wounds. Will you let me do that for you Severus?"
There was no response from Snape and Pomfrey repeated her litany to no effect. When she shifted forward to touch Snape, the ill wizard flinched again and gave a hoarse moan from the back of his throat. A brief feeling of relief passed through the nurse as she realized her efforts to remove the curses from Snape had been successful. One curse in particular had been very effective in silencing Snape's voice and she was worried the curse might have permanently damaged the vocal cords. Even his pathetic moan was encouraging and with time that silky, dangerous voice would be in use again. Realizing neither she nor Lupin would be able to effectively calm Snape right now, Pomfrey slowly stood and turned to the worried werewolf.
"Don't touch or say anything to him. I'm going to summon Albus."
Nodding, Lupin watched her go and stood feeling very helpless. His heart grieved as he considered what tortures Snape must have endured to be reduced to this miserable state and he felt a deep sorrow for the once proud Slytherin. There was no trace of the sarcastic, angry and ambitious Snape he knew. Briefly, Lupin wondered what Sirius would have thought of their childhood nemesis right now.
Hushed whispering behind him made Lupin turn and see Pomfrey return with a very concerned Dumbledore. Snape had now worked himself into the corner, his breath coming in harsh gasps and he was close to hyperventilating in sheer fear and confusion. Lupin backed away to the door with Pomfrey and they watched the Headmaster approach the terrified Snape.
"Severus? Child, it's Albus. Remember me? You're safe now Severus. It's all right."
Dumbledore approached Snape as he did in that awful dungeon cell, with slow movements and a kind voice. He kept repeating his soothing words in a calm tone as he slowly knelt by Snape, who was now completely tangled in the blankets, back pressed up against the wall. The blindfold had slipped off and black eyes were filled with tears, peering out at them blearily. There was a glimmer of awareness in those sad orbs, but fear prevented Snape from moving or speaking. Slowly, Dumbledore reached out his hands and laid them on the quivering body next to him. To their surprise Snape did not flinch from his touch and gave a tiny shift in the Headmaster's direction. Pleased with this result, Dumbledore continued to soothe Snape with a soft voice and warm touch until the trembling wizard began to uncurl from his ball.
Confident now that he had Snape's trust, he pulled the blankets tighter around Snape before pulling the entire body into his arms, murmuring gentle reassurances. Snape relaxed even more in Dumbledore's embrace, resting his head against the warm chest, feeling safe listening to the comforting heartbeat of the older wizard. The damaged hands buried themselves in the long white beard, holding on as tight as they could. Finally Snape went limp in Dumbledore's arms, tears slowly falling from emotionless eyes, rolling down a blank face. Dumbledore sat back against the wall and crooned softly to the younger wizard, the very essence of peace. He looked up at them and nodded at their unspoken questions, not wanting to break the calm of the moment to address them directly. They returned the nod, quietly leaving the room, discreetly wiping their own tears away.
- & -
He was lost in his own unpleasant and fractured memories, hiding from a reality of fear and pain when something pierced the dark haze of his mind. A kind and comforting voice, different from the other ones, yet very familiar, penetrated through the mental and physical pain and drew his attention away from the paralyzing terror. His headache vanished with the words the voice spoke, sending waves of peace over his exhausted body. This kind voice continued to speak to him, weaving its own brand of magic, showing him love, compassion and serenity. The voice, combined with the warm touches, healed the holes in his soul and showed him that with time, everything would be all right. He knew instinctively that this voice would never lie, would never leave him alone and would heal his hurts. This voice had sheltered him from the darkness, guided him when he was lost and had given him a second chance when no one else would believe him.
Memories returned to him then, memories of this voice, of his protection, of his trust, of his guidance. He was safe, back where he belonged. He remembered who was holding him, who was speaking to him and he relaxed into Albus Dumbledore's arms with a soft sigh.
- & -
After a while the old wizard looked down at the person in his arms and said with a slight grin, "I'm too old to be sitting on the floor Severus. How about we move back to the bed hmm? I'll tell you what you've missed here at Hogwarts." Carefully lifting the awake but unresponsive Snape he positioned himself on the bed, tucking the blankets back around the slim, pale body. Dumbledore was still concerned about Snape's reaction to touch and sound, especially since they appeared to trigger certain memories, memories that he was certain no one would want to relive again. However, he was immensely relieved that Snape allowed him to approach and even touch. The spark of awareness in those black eyes was cause for a smile. With Snape securely settled in his arms he began to speak in a low voice,
"Well Severus, as you can imagine a lot has happened in the last 8 months. Voldemort is dead, his followers are gone and we have won the war. Harry has fulfilled the prophecy, as we all knew he would. The last battle was fought here, at Hogwarts, and though we suffered our fair share of losses we emerged victorious." He spoke about defending the castle from inferi and giants, how the older students protected the younger ones from a group of dementors that managed to infiltrate the castle, how the Order of the Phoenix was almost overwhelmed by Death Eaters before an army of Aurors arrived and he retold the final duel between Harry and Voldemort.
Stopping for a moment Dumbledore looked down at Snape and was troubled to see him sitting docilely, eyes half lidded, not moving or reacting on his own. This behavior was so unlike Severus that he again wondered what exactly Voldemort had done to break such a strong spirit. Dumbledore cared immensely for every single student that walked the halls of Hogwarts, but occasionally, throughout his long years, he would develop a special place in his heart for the truly extraordinary children, the ones whose spirits burned bright and pure. Even when they had graduated and became productive adults it was not unusual for the Headmaster to watch over his adopted children like a father would his own child.
Severus, the dark Slytherin child that everyone shunned, the Death Eater who begged for a second chance and the professor the students quickly learned to hate, would be more of a son to Dumbledore than any other child. For all his faults and crimes Severus had a bright soul and pure heart that Dumbledore loved unconditionally. He could not really explain why he felt that way toward Severus of all people, but he did and he did not care what anyone else thought about it.
Sighing, Dumbledore placed an affectionate kiss on the top of the black-haired head and continued his one sided conversation with Snape about his retirement and summer plans. At one point Snape shifted slightly in his arms and his eyelids fluttered like he was trying to wake up but could not make the final connection.
"Severus? Can you understand me? It's Albus." Dumbledore waited patiently as Snape struggled for a long minute before opening his eyes all the way. He blinked rapidly in the sunlight then turned to hide his face in the Headmaster's long beard. Delighted with this response, Dumbledore smiled and whispered encouraging words in Snape's ear. The ill wizard leaned back and slowly lifted his head, teary black eyes rising to meet twinkling blue eyes. His brow furrowed in concentration, mouth opening and closing a few times; desperately trying to formulate complete thoughts and communicate. Just as Dumbledore thought Snape was going to speak there was a knock at the door and Pomfrey reentered the private room.
Any bond Dumbledore had made or was about to make with Snape was shattered at that moment. Snape hid his face in the white beard and shrank back into the protective arms, while retreating into the shadows of his mind. Releasing a breath he did not know he was holding, Dumbledore felt frustrated and sad at the interruption, yet glad there was hope for recovery. He looked up at Pomfrey, who appeared apologetic and curious as she sat down next to them and said,
"I'm truly sorry for interrupting, but Severus needs his potions now and I can't wait much longer. What happened?"
"I believe we almost had a breakthrough Poppy. Severus is in there somewhere, just buried under all this pain and darkness. I need more time with him."
"You have plenty of time Albus, if you will recall, just be patient. Did he speak at all?"
"No," replied Dumbledore, "but he seemed close to it. Why?"
"I scanned him for curses this morning and most of them were the typical hexes favored by Death Eaters. There was one in particular that had removed his ability to speak. It was a very stubborn curse, which was why I asked Remus to help me in removing it. His voice is intact, though it may be some time before Severus understands he can speak again. I was hopeful he would realize it now, but it may be too soon." Pomfrey sighed and went to retrieve the tray of potions and supplies from the side table.
They let Snape remain curled next to Dumbledore on the bed to avoid another panicked breakdown and the Headmaster admitted he did not want to let go of Snape just yet. Pomfrey administered the next set of healing potions and when she was done she cleaned up the room and returned to the chair. They spoke in hushed whispers about the kind of care Snape would need in the upcoming weeks. Dumbledore listened attentively as the nurse went over Snape's diminished mental abilities, fragile emotional state and his weak physical condition. They had already witnessed the kind of behavior they could expect from Snape and until he adjusted he would need constant supervision. She was confident he would heal physically in a matter of weeks and hopeful that with tender care the magical tears in his mind would repair themselves. Only time would reveal whether or not Snape would be the same man before this ordeal.
"Someone should be with him at all times Albus just in case. We'll organize something with the staff when you're too busy." Pomfrey finished and pulled out a vial of sleeping draught from her robes. "Severus should sleep as much as possible today. I'll stay with him while you go help Minerva with the students. She had a large group of Slytherins this morning demanding to see Severus and I doubt they have yet to stop pestering her for more information."
"Yes well, that House can be very persistent when they put their minds to it. I best go help Minerva then. I shall return after dinner." Dumbledore replied and moved to settle Snape fully on the bed after Pomfrey had administered the draught. "Let me know if anything should happen."
Pomfrey nodded and the Headmaster paused to tuck the blankets snugly around Snape, gently touching his cheek in farewell. As he reluctantly moved to go a bony hand weakly grasped his wrist. Startled, Dumbledore turned back to the bed and looked down. Pomfrey gasped and they both stared at the figure on the bed.
Snape had reopened his eyes and was using the last of his strength to focus on Dumbledore. For the first time since his rescue those black eyes were aware and sparkling with unshed tears. Hardly believing his own eyes, Dumbledore knelt by the bed, grasping Snape's hand carefully in his own. It was taking a tremendous effort for Snape to even stay awake and concentrate, but the young wizard looked very determined. Snape licked his dry lips and in a weak, hoarse voice that had not been used in over 6 months whispered,
"Thank you Albus."
It was the sweetest sound Dumbledore had ever heard.
TBC
Ok I hope this ending made up for my evil cliffhanger last chapter! Brought tears to my eyes and hell, I'm the writer:) Let me know what you think, Chapter 4 will be out soon (it'll be a good one)!
