Chapter 2 – The Lost Boy

Albus Dumbledore was on his way down the corridor from his office when Lily Evans tripped and fell right into his arms.

"Catch her!" Remus Lupin shouted.

The Headmaster caught the girl and straightened her up. "What is the matter, Miss Evans?" he asked. He had never seen Lily in such a state.

"It's Severus Snape, sir," she panted. "Something is terribly wrong with him. Please come now!"

As they ran, Lily told Dumbledore about what had happened at the Potters' home, and what Severus had said to her upon his return to Slytherin Tower. "It's like he's lost his wits – I don't know! He said horrible things to me! I'm sure he didn't mean them!"

Dumbledore did not share his own recollections about getting the seriously depressed boy out of his slump some months ago. Simple care – seeing that he ate, kept himself clean, and went to classes – had gone a long way with Severus. Albus had also supported him with encouragement and love. And now, to see all that effort spoiled! Damn that Sirius Black. The Headmaster had trusted him and believed him.

Maybe Lily had been mistaken about what had happened. It was best to gather one's facts first, and then draw one's conclusions from those facts.

On their way, Dumbledore had sent Remus running for Professor Sartoris, whom he'd fetched from the Potions Lab in the dungeons. And now the four of them burst through the door of Slytherin Tower (Dumbledore had sufficient status so that a password wasn't necessary).

Professor Penderdandis, who had been poking at the fire burning sluggishly in the fireplace, looked up at them.

"What in –? "he managed to gasp.

"Quickly," Headmaster Dumbledore wheezed, wishing that apparation were permitted in the Castle. "We have reason to believe Severus is in trouble."

"He was supposed to meet with me a little while ago," Penderdandis replied, gesturing for them to follow him. "I was just going to go in and get him. I've only come just now from my holiday in Bristol. He had some sort of argument with Miss Evans here, and I asked him to see me about his attitude and unkempt demeanor."

"Attitude and demeanor may be the least of our troubles, I fear," Dumbledore sighed. "Miss Evans, kindly fetch Madame Pomfrey just in case we need her."

The three wizards tried the door; it had been locked. With an oath and a cry of "Alohamora", Penderdandis opened it.

The men raced in, then stopped. The room was completely dark, with all the curtains drawn. "Lumos," cried Albus Dumbledore, and a strong beam of light illuminated the room. They looked around them.

"Severus?" Dumbledore shouted. "Severus! Are you here?"

Sartoris ran around to the other side of the boy's bed and nearly tripped over the body slumped on the floor. "Gods," he gasped, picking up Severus and dragging him onto the bed. "Mr. Lupin! Do you know what a bezoar is?"

"Yes, sir! It's from an animal's stomach – a ruminant, I think. It absorbs poisons!"

"That's right. There are several on my desk. Run as fast as you can and fetch one. Go!"

Lupin was off like a shot.

"I'm having trouble opening his jaws," Sartoris panted, trying to work his fingers past Severus' clenched teeth. "It's due to the seizures."

"What seizures, man?" Penderdandis hissed, horrified and ashamed that one of his charges had gone so utterly to rack and ruin in his absence.

"The – bottle – on the floor," Sartoris gasped.

Penderdandis stooped to pick it up.

"Don't touch it!" Sartoris hissed. "It's a caustic, whatever it is."

Remus Lupin, red-faced from effort, slapped a stomach stone on the bed. Sartoris gave one final effort and suddenly pried past Severus' teeth. He shoved the bezoar under the boy's burned tongue.

"Gods, please help this child!" Penderdandis murmured.

"A poison, then," Albus said, his voice ragged. "Are we too late?"

"I – don't know. I need something soothing for his throat – milk, perhaps."

Within seconds, the Headmaster had transfigured a nearby pitcher of water into milk and handed it to the Potions Master. Sartoris dumped it into Snape's mouth, hoping that his esophagus hadn't swelled shut.

Dumbledore came around him and laid his hands on either side of the boy's temples. He poured in so much healing energy that Sev's entire body jerked. The Headmaster began to chant in a low voice – whether it was a prayer or a spell, the other men weren't sure.

At last, Severus began to cough, spraying Sartoris with milk. "Hells! It won't go down," the professor said, beginning to stream his own healing energy into his student.

Severus' coughing abruptly stopped, and an awful strangled gasping took its place.

"His windpipe is swelling shut as well, Albus," Sartoris cried. "Do either of you have a knife? I need to keep that bezoar under his tongue!"

Sev's face was blue and his eyes rolled back in his head.

Sartoris grabbed a water glass and transfigured it into a flexible tube. A knife was slapped into his outreached hand. "Hold him down, Albus," the Potions Master asked. Once the boy was secured, Sartoris made a slit right at the base of the child's throat.

Though deeply unconscious at best, the boy felt the pain and fought it. "No, Severus," Sartoris whispered, locating the delicate edges of his windpipe and easing the tube down several inches. "You just hold on, my young friend, because I am going to fix you up."

The boy's body thrashed against the unwanted intrusion, but his starved lungs expanded with the new supply of air provided by the impromptu tracheotomy.

"That's a good boy," the old Potions Master whispered, sweat dripping from his face.

Albus touched Sev's forehead with a calming charm and his body relaxed. "Poppy's on her way," Dumbledore said. "Let me have him." The Headmaster sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the unconscious boy onto his lap. He saw the burns on the child's swollen lips and held him tightly.

"Oh my poor child. My poor boy. We all let you down this time. I'm so sorry."

He bent his head over the Slytherin and rocked him gently. Penderdandis and Sartoris were both shocked to see tears splatting onto the boy's robe. Neither had ever seen the Headmaster cry before.

"Go and see what's keeping the girl and the nurse, will you?" Sartoris asked. The Slytherin Head of House darted out of the room.

Dumbledore kept a hand on the boy's chest so that he could continue to send energy sufficient to save him from whatever awful concoction he'd ingested. He watched as Sartoris picked up the bottle with a handkerchief and sniffed it. He then wrapped it up carefully and placed it upright in his pocket.

"Most of it spilled out onto the floor," the Potions Master said gravely. "My guess is that Severus took the first sip and felt his lips and tongue burning. Anyone would reflexively toss something that utterly nasty away from them."

"Will he live?"

"Unknown. I need to analyze this before I can prepare the antidote. The bezoar will help for now."

"Leave now and begin."

Turning to obey his Headmaster, Sartoris was nearly run over by Madam Pomfrey and Professor Penderdandis, who had made sure Lily stayed in the common room with Remus.

"He's poisoned himself, Poppy. A caustic. I opened his airway. Esophagus is blocked and may be burned. Be careful," the man blurted out as he ran from the room.

Noticing the two upset children sitting before the meager fire, the Potions Master said, "Mr. Lupin, run and fetch Professor Sprout and bring her to the Potions Lab. She can help us identify the poison if it's a botanical. Come with me now, Miss Evans. You will assist me in my preparation of the antidote. Your friend has taken poison, and it was only your speed in bringing help that might give him a chance."

Two newly arrived Slytherin students overheard, and now stood in horror.

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The boy lay across the Headmaster's lap; his face slack, lips and gums swollen. Dumbledore supported his body and held onto his limp hand. He was careful not to disturb the thin tube that protruded from the base of his throat.

Albus Dumbledore had lived a very long time and he knew a great many things he never shared with others. He had come close to death several times, and knew it fairly well. Right now, he sensed that Severus was in between death and life.

So be it, then, Dumbledore thought. I will join him there. He bowed his head and let his mind slip away from him.

-----

I petition the White Lady to not take this child, this child given the wrong life and the wrong ways, this precious child who knows Your Darkness intimately but is not meant for that Darkness. Dark Crone, do not take this child to Your breast, for he is needed here. Grant him the right to live.

But he has given Me his life freely, wizard.

And he is still a child, not yet lived. I beg of You to stay Your hand from his soul. Lady of Phantoms, this child is a victim - he had never learned to fight back or to control his own life. He still has no idea he can control his own life.

And that Life is slipping away, into My hands. He wanted peace.

He is not yet done with this Life, Dark One, and You know it.

-----

Albus Dumbledore sighed deeply, his mind rushing back to this small room in a castle in Scotland. Tears ran down his old face.

My poor Severus.

Over and over again, the Headmaster sent the boy the same message, like the bright searching beam of a lighthouse beacon ready to guide him back from the land of souls:

I love you my son come home

I love you my son come home

I love you my son come home

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"I've got it," Professor Sprout announced. Euphorbia resinifera, from Euphorbiaceae, the Spurge family. It excretes a sort of resin – parts of the plant are useful as emetics, while others cause burns to the face, lips, mouth, throat, esophagus, or stomach. It can also cause temporary blindness. Hateful stuff – burns you from the inside out. Death is usually from suffocation when the trachea swells shut."

"I'm on it," the Potions Master murmured as he combined the contents of several vials. He then strained the liquid through a fine mesh cloth, then bottled and labeled it. He grabbed a syringe as Severus was unable to swallow.

It had taken the two teachers less than ten minutes to prepare an antidote. Whether it was too late to do Severus any good, neither knew. All four raced to Slytherin Tower to find out.

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Poppy Pomfrey had done her best to treat the internal and external burns. The bezoar had apparently neutralized the worst of the poison.

"Today is not your day to die, my poor child," Dumbledore whispered, stroking the boy's long hair back off his face. "You need to come home now. Come home to me, Severus."

"Albus," Poppy said, "I – I think it would be best if we got Mr. Snape to St. Mungo's as soon as possible. The poisoning is one problem. His trying it again is another. He needs to be hospitalized and put on suicide watch until we can find a way to help him."

Sartoris walked in with the antidote in a needle, and carefully injected it into the boy's arm.

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There was a commotion, and loud voices were heard outside.

James Potter had followed a first-year Slytherin into the common room and was arguing with a fifth-year who questioned his reason for entering. After the bluster had died down, Lily and Remus saw that James was crying.

"What's Snape done?" he asked them.

Lily instinctively went over to him, guiding him to a couch and sitting close to him, her hand on his. "Severus came back here and tried to kill himself, James. He drank poison."

James covered his face with his hands and wept. "It's my fault. I should have gotten rid of the Marauders when they showed up. But I didn't. And because I didn't, I lost Severus as a friend. If he dies – well, that's my fault as well."

Lily cradled his head and rocked him gently back and forth. Remus sat on his other side and placed his hand on the sobbing boy's shoulder. "I don't think it's your fault, James," he said. "Severus has been very troubled for a long time. The beatings at home had a lot to do with it. Of course, our pranks only made it worse. When Martis was here, Sev could at least handle it. They were Snips and Spirals then, a team. And didn't they give us a run for our money? When she left, though, it was almost like his heart went out of him. But we kept on like before. It was too much for him."

James moaned. "I knew Sev was over here because he returned my sweater. I didn't even bother to come over and check on him."

"What sweater?"

"A present my parents gave him. He really loved it and was proud to wear it and he gave it back because my idiot friends told him he wasn't welcome. That he wasn't welcome – in MY home!"

Lupin sighed. "Why don't you go ahead and name his name, Prongs? It was Sirius. I think he was jealous since you hadn't invited him home with you in quite a while. It was Sirius who drove Sev away."

"And I went along with it by not standing up to him. And now the kid's going to die and it's entirely my fault."

Lily continued to hold James. By that time, all three were crying over the sad fate of the Slytherin boy.

"Can I see him?" James snuffled.

"I don't know," Remus said. "Let me check."

He entered the stuffy bedroom and observed the Headmaster holding Sev on his lap. He was singing or chanting to him. The boy didn't look asleep. He looked dead.

"Yes, Mr. Lupin?" Madam Pomfrey said in her usual snappish way.

"James Potter wants to see Severus," the boy said.

"Absolutely not!" the nurse replied.

"Hold a bit, Poppy," Albus said. "He might help guide Severus back to us. Tell him he can come in, but he can't act upset. That would only frighten Severus. If he's calm, Mr. Potter can come in."

Lupin nodded and left.

Within a few moments, James came in with Lily and Remus. His eyes were red and his nose was stuffy, but there were no tears at the moment.

Albus Dumbledore nodded. "Remember – calm and easy. Talk to him, Mr. Potter."

James came up and picked up the boy's limp hand. He looked into Sev's swollen and burned face and bit his lip. "Sev, this is James," he began. "I'm so sorry about what happened. And I was wrong. Please come back. Come back and my mother will bake us another Pig Cake."

Lily and Remus exchanged puzzled looks.

"We can eat Pig Cake and play Quidditch, how would you like that? And the Marauders won't be there, I promise."

Severus' face twitched slightly.

"Can he hear me?" James said to Dumbledore.

"I expect he can. Bring him back, Mr. Potter."

"Sev – I'm your friend, whether you agree or not. So are Lily and Remus. We want you to come back and be with us again when you get well. If you can hear me, Sev, give my hand a squeeze, all right?"

All looked down to see two of Sev's fingers moving slightly. Albus lay his hands on the boy's temples and infused a stream of healing energy.

"All right, children," Poppy said quietly. "We'll help him from this point."

The three friends – Lily and James holding hands – gave the Slytherin boy one last look. Each took a turn smoothing his hair or patting his limp arm. They turned and went through the door and into the common room, where they were surrounded by Sev's housemates asking them what had happened.

Lucius Malfoy had pushed his way through the crowd. His aristocratic eyes were slitted, his jaw jutted. "You didn't manage to kill him the first time in the Forbidden Forest. Did you feel the need to push him over the edge over the holidays? Great bloody work. You bastards have one hell of a nerve coming in here. Now get out."

Surprisingly, none of the three Gryffindor students had anything to say in return. They silently went out the door.

Malfoy kicked it shut behind them.

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Professors Sartoris and Penderdandis – rivals and standoffish colleagues at best – now stood shoulder to shoulder to see what they could do. Hesitating slightly, both laid their hands on the child in Dumbledore's lap and sent healing energy into him. Severus twitched again and moved his head.

"I don't think he'll come back to us today," Albus said. "I think he's very tired. If you two gentlemen will go through Mr. Snape's trunk and pick out some clothes and toiletries, we'll get him to St. Mungo's right away."

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The Slytherin common room was packed with returning students, all shocked at the news of Snape's suicide attempt. Quite a few of them stood crying. Their voices dropping off one by one, all stood and silently watched as the adults came out of the bedroom. The Headmaster carried Snape, who was wrapped in a blanket.

"Good luck," several of them whispered, touching the Dark child's hand or foot as they passed by. One or two would later swear that they heard the Headmaster say, "I love you my son, come home" over and over in a soothing voice.

"When you come back, Snips," Lucius Malfoy said quietly, "I'm sure you'll figure out who your true friends are."