Hiding Under the Ninth Earth
Book 02 : A Bit Of All Right
by I Got Tired of Waiting
Part II : Harry and Severus
Chapter Eleven : The Penalties of Success
14 August 1996 (Continued)
The trip to the infirmary was made in silence, Harry carrying the wire basket with the bottles of potions. 'Six days worth; whoever it is must be hurt badly for it to take that long to heal. This potion only lasts seven.'
Madame Pomfrey met them at the door, the worried look on her face smoothing when she saw the contents of the carrier. "Good, you were able to find it. Thank you, Mr. Potter, you may go."
Dumbledore made a face of impatience. "Poppy--Harry made the potion, not I--as we discussed. Oh, don't look at me in that tone of voice; he did it well. I told him he could accompany me when I delivered it." She made a sour face at him. He explained patiently, "More than any other in this school, Harry needs to know what he's up against. It's time he sees some of the risks and the penalties for success." Shaking her head, she stood aside.
They walked to the back of the infirmary where a large area had been curtained off. As they approached, they could hear a low, sustained groan made by someone in extreme pain but not conscious enough to actively complain about it. They heard some murmured words, softly spoken, and the groaning stopped.
"Damnit, when will he get here with that potion? I don't know how much longer he's going to stay under." Harry recognised the quiet voice; it was Remus Lupin.
Dumbledore swept the curtain aside.
"HellifIknow," Mad Eye said, whirling around to confront them, his wand drawn.
"Greetings, gentlemen. We have the potion," Dumbledore said, ignoring the threatening wand.
"Harry!" they both exclaimed quietly, in deference to the man on the bed. It was Snape. He was obviously injured badly, his pallor making him whiter than the thick bandages on wrists and neck, the bruises stark. It was disquieting to see him this way; he almost looked more than human, yet smaller than life.
Dumbledore waved his hand towards the carrier. "Come Harry, give Remus one of the bottles--he's had a hard day and I want to make sure he's available to help us get this down Severus. He's bound to be unhappy with us when we do."
Moody eyed first Dumbledore and then Harry, making him feel uncomfortable as Moody's magical eye was roaming all over the room. Dismissing his unease, Harry handed Remus a bottle after removing the seal for him and making sure nothing got into the potion when he opened it. "It's going to taste awful--sorry."
Remus made a grimace as he downed it. Within moments he began to relax, "Gods that's good. Severus always knows how to brew a good potion!" He turned to look at Harry, "All the good ones always taste bad." He laughed quietly and walking over, gave Harry a big hug.
"It's good to see you, Remus," he said hugging him back.
"Good to be seen," he chuckled, "For a while there, didn't think I would be."
Moody came over, a big smile on his ugly face, and clapped him on the back. "Ya did a good job there, Harry. Now let's try and get the auld sod to take his drop like a good boy."
Harry uncorked a bottle and held it ready while the two men propped Snape up, Dumbledore lessening his weight with levitation. Harry'd not heard Madame Pomfrey come up behind him holding her wand; she reversed the sleeping spell she was using to keep the Potions Master under. He immediately slanted against them, rigid, his waxy face paling even more. Obviously injured, his wakeful silence was probably the worst part, his eyes were glazed with pain, unseeing.
Madame Pomfrey gently took the bottle out of Harry's hands and, opening Severus' mouth, she started pouring it in, her wand at his throat outside the bandages there, making him swallow it without choking. Dumbledore had been right, Snape was not happy getting the potion and struggled for a few seconds, but the effects were apparent even before they finished getting it all down him. Some color started coming back to his face, and the rigidity left his body as he sagged against the two men holding him up, unconscious again.
"Good batch there, Harry. It worked like a charm. He's finally, truly asleep," Madame Pomfrey said with no small relief, handing Harry the empty bottle. He replaced the cork seal and set it back into the carrier with the other bottle from Remus. She took the carrier with her as she left the cubicle.
Moody yawned and stretched, a sight almost as grotesque as his eye. "Well, now Snape's had his drop, I'm going to dossdown in one of your posh guest rooms, Albus, and get some shut-eye." He nodded to them all and went a couple of beds away, falling asleep before his head hit the pillow. Loud snores soon followed.
Remus sighed and pulled out his wand. Pointing it at Mad-Eye, he said, "Confuto". Moody's snores stopped abruptly, although his mouth still hung open.
"I'm going to have to remember that," Harry said with a grin, "Dean snores something awful."
"Is Dean a friend?" Remus asked.
"Yes, he's a dorm mate," Harry replied.
"Well then, be sure to tell him before you use it that you might. It can leave a powerful headache if the recipient isn't expecting it," he chuckled.
Dumbledore stood from the chair he'd been sitting in. "I have most of what I need; I'll debrief you again tomorrow, Remus. Hopefully, Severus will be awake by then and I can hear his story as well." He smiled. "Harry you did well--the potion was effective, and your career as a burglar is off to a good start. All in all, I would say, it's been a good day." He reached over and gave Harry a hug whispering, "I believe, too." Harry was mystified but hugged him back.
Releasing him, he stepped over to the bed and with an oddly gentle gesture, smoothed his hand over Severus' hair. He bent down and whispered something to him. A small smile graced Snape's pale face in his sleep. With a final stroke, he straightened up and left the infirmary, whistling a tuneless song.
Harry looked over to the bed, noticing the bandages on Snape's wrists. They were already stained red and darkening fast. "Ah, Remus, shouldn't Madame Pomfrey look to his bandages?"
The werewolf looked over at the visible bandages, remarking the leakage. "Nah, we can change those ourselves; luckily it's better than before. That is, if you're up to it. You squeamish?"
Harry shrugged. "Never done it before, so I don't know. Quidditch wounds don't much bother me, though."
"Well, you won't know 'til you try." He opened a cabinet on the wall and pulled out one of the long rolls of soft bandaging fabric Madame Pomfrey kept stocked there along with a jar of ointment. "Ointment heals and keeps it from sticking to the fabric," he explained as he set them both on the table. "Fortunately, he's dosed up pretty well. This would hurt something awful otherwise."
He looked at Harry taking his measure and shrugged. "Should warn you, though, they're pretty messy. Voldemort gave him to Lucius," he said cryptically.
Harry didn't know what that meant, but he suspected he was about to find out.
"Burglar?" Remus asked, unrolling the bandage on the wrist on the far side.
"Yeah, Professor Dumbledore had me reading Professor Snape's Schema to open all the locked cabinets in his office and in the--" he hissed in a breath at the bloody shreds that had been Snape's wrist. The once graceful appendage was torn and scraped raw with some of the skin cut open and hanging. Blood welled and seeped into a cotton sheet Remus had placed under it. 'He's been bound,' Harry thought, appalled. He opened the jar of ointment and held it out to Remus who wordlessly indicated he either needed to hold the wrist or smear the ointment.
For some unknown reason Harry chose to apply the ointment. He went over to the ewer and poured some water in the basin. He waved his wand over it saying, "Tersum", a spell every First Year learned in Potions to make the water into a purifying solution. While waiting for the water to turn pearly, he removed his robe, placing it carefully on the back of the chair, and rolled up his long sleeves to above the elbow. He then dunked his hands, wrists, and lower arms in the treated water and without rinsing them, he shook the excess off and walked over to the bed.
He dipped his damp hands into the jar until he had a heavy coating of the thick ointment on his fingers. Remus blotted the exposed wrist with the sheet it lay on to remove the excess blood, and then slowly levitated it up off of the bed, by hand and forearm, so Harry could have access to all the sides. When Remus told him it was steady, Harry set to work. As gently as he could, he spread the salve over the wounds, working it into the deeper cuts and abrasions, adding extra to the strips of skin, which he gently placed back into their proper locations like puzzle pieces. Every time he touched a piece of the wound he could feel a buzz in his scar, unsettling but not painful. When he was done, he inspected his work, making sure he'd covered everything.
Then he did something odd. Acting on a whim and instinct, he rubbed the remaining ointment into his hands until the palms were coated too. Wrapping his hands loosely around Snape's wrist like a bandage, he closed his eyes and whispered, "Sanos"; he didn't know what it meant, it just came out much like the spell to unlock the cabinets. A warmth flowed from his tingling scar to his hands to Snape's wounds and then stopped. With some trepidation, he slowly removed his hands and opened his eyes. He stared, stunned. The wrist was healed, the skin new and pink, the ointment gone. There were faint white lines where there had been cuts and such, but the injuries were gone.
Remus gently placed a finger on the freshly healed wound, his face perplexed. He removed the bloody sheet and eased Snape's arm down on the bed. He turned to Harry, who was standing there in a dazed stupor. "I'll be damned. You have no idea how you did that, do you?"
Harry shook his head, blinking. "None whatsoever." He was having trouble focusing, more a result of a fuzziness around the edges of his brain than anything to do with his eyes.
"Think you can do it again?" Remus eyed him, his concern for Harry clear in the cast of his face.
"I don't know," Harry whispered, trying to think through the lingering haze. "I'll try."
So he went through the whole routine again. Pour from the ewer, spell the water, dip his hands, and get the salve. As he was smearing the ointment on the second wrist Remus was holding more firmly with a Cushioning Charm, for it was broken, he was vaguely aware of Madame Pomfrey arriving quietly in the cubicle. He wondered if she'd heard the same surge of magic he'd felt; almost bell-like, it had happened after he'd said the words to the spell. He concentrated on finding that place within him he'd found before, but was distracted by Remus softly warning Pomfrey away when she moved to stop him from working on the other wrist.
He finally closed out her almost tangible curiosity and once again dropped into that place he'd found before. Again he murmured, "Sanos" and the magic surged forth, stronger this time, easier to pull out. He felt Snape's wrist heat up as before, so hot he wanted to drop it, but in a flash it was gone as were the horrific wounds.
He looked at Lupin; despite his inability to explain what he'd just done, he was strangely unafraid. As he was about to ask him a question, he heard Madame Pomfrey murmur, "Amazing. I wish Albus had been here to see this. He'd warned me it might happen, but I didn't believe him." Thoughtfully she turned and bustled out of the cubicle. Harry was left with Remus.
"Should we try the throat as well?" he asked Lupin, lightly touching the darkening bandages around the Potion Masters neck.
"Can't hurt and the bandages need to be changed in any event." Harry was grateful for his surprising silence on the matter. He really didn't want to talk about it right now.
Harry put his knee on the bed and leaning over, gently lifted Snape's heavy head exposing the vulnerable back of his neck. Remus leant over and unwound the bandage. They both sucked in a breath at the carnage underneath. He'd been bound there as well, the deep ligature marks hinting that he'd been garotted. From the concave injury where his Adam's Apple should have been and the extensive bruising, they knew his windpipe had been damaged--his vocal cords crushed. With the breath whistling through the open bleeding injury, Harry feared the days of the Potion Master's dulcet voice were over.
He got off the bed and returned to Remus' side. He stared at the horrible injuries suddenly realising there must be something else wrong with them, something he couldn't see, or else Madame Pomfrey would have healed them herself. He found himself backing away from the bed.
"Scared?" Remus asked him, eyeing the deep bruising extending down to Snape's pale chest and the torn skin near his jaw.
Harry nodded, saying, "I'm not sure I can do this, Remus. It's so--so large. I'm not--I'm--I don't want to hurt him."
Remus regarded him kindly and put his hand on his shoulder. "Harry look at me." When Harry lifted frightened eyes to him, he said gently, "Listen to me well. Everyone who carries magic is born with a certain level, a certain amount of magic they can wield. Most of us learn to work within the limits of our magic; some have more than others, some less. But there are the rare few, Harry, the others like you and the Headmaster and even Snape here, who are born with so much that the only thing that will limit you is how much you, or others, believe you are capable of doing." He ran his hand over Harry's hair and putting his face close to the boy's, whispered, "I believe you can do it, don't you?"
Remembering Dumbledore's parting words, Harry started. Remus pulled him close into a heartening embrace and when Harry relaxed a bit, he let him go. "Ready?"
Turning back to look long and hard at the unconscious figure on the bed, Harry gulped, straightened, and went to pour more water from the ewer.
****
Madame Pomfrey went back to her office and unlocked the cabinet behind the desk. She removed a small vial of clear amber liquid from the middle shelf, put it in her pocket and, relocking the press, she went back to the cubicle. By the time she pushed aside the curtain and closed it silently behind her, Harry was working on the larger wound around Severus' neck.
She heard the magic, this time deeper in tone and longer in its singing, struggling against the injuries it found. And she knew fear--for the Potions Master whose injuries were beyond her abilities as a Medi-witch and a deeper fear for the young man pouring his soul into a spell and a man he knew nothing about. She sincerely hoped, not for the last time, that the Headmaster knew what he was doing. Her heart almost stopped when, for one instant, the tone soured before it resumed its steady note and then it was gone.
"This is the last one, Mr. Potter. The potion can take care of the rest," she said briskly. "Remus, catch him."
Remus was startled, but he obeyed and within seconds was holding Harry up when he started to sag to the floor. Madame Pomfrey helped Remus get Harry in another bed and still sitting up she made him drink the restorative she'd brought. "Drink up, Harry. That's it. You'll feel better in a moment." She waited a minute, watching him, and when his eyes came back into focus she asked him, "Dizziness gone?"
He nodded. "Good. Head hurts?" When he nodded again, she gently ran her hand over his messy hair, whispering a spell. When his face relaxed a bit she continued, quieter, but no less impersonally, "You tried to do too much at once, although I'm grateful you could fix his throat. Now lay down there a few minutes and let the potion take full effect while I clean up here." Harry lay himself down and closed his eyes gratefully. She watched him carefully and when he unconsciously rubbed his forehead and scar, she knew they still pained him despite the charm.
She spent a few minutes checking Severus over. The wounds were healed cleanly and fully--even the ones at his throat. Sighing with relief, she cleaned up the debris of the old bandages and recapped the salve, putting the jar away. She spared a quick glance at Harry, noting his body lax in sleep before motioning to Remus to follow her.
When they were out of earshot, Remus rounded on her. "What the hell was that all about."
"Language, Mr. Lupin." He laughed and she with him. "Albus always suspected he could do it."
"Do what?" he said with some asperity. "What did Harry do?"
"He reversed the Dark Magic in Severus' wounds. Our dear Potions Master was loaded with it. That's why I couldn't heal them. They're normally very simple to repair, but there was too much darkness imbued in them. Dumbledore told me what he intended when he had Harry make the potion; he'd hoped Harry's defensive magic could help Severus' body rid it of the darkness there. And it seems to have worked."
"Hmmm, I always knew Harry had hidden talents--" he started.
"--but who knew they would be this strong," she finished for him.
"I should go check on him." Remus turned to go back.
She put her hand on his arm, stopping him. "He's well asleep now. The restorative does that, too, if the caster has overextended themselves. Go grab a bed and sleep yourself. You can see him tomorrow. He's not going anywhere."
"Yes, mum." He smiled as he climbed into the nearest empty bed after taking off his boots and outer robe. "Can you tuck me in, too?"
She laughed as she pulled the covers over him, saying, "I draw the line at a bedtime story."
He grinned and pouted. Then he slept.