Chapter 42- And All Shadows Will Pass Away
"Again the voice commanded, "Look, and write those things I shall make known unto you." I beheld the vessel of clay being pierced by the sword. At once the vessel did shatter and there upon the shards lay a babe. It was a male babe and upon his brow a word was inscribed." Book of Surinim
The odor of blood floated upon the chilly air, filling Severus' head, rushing into his brain like harsh liquor. He was becoming drunk on the coppery heat of the smell, the bitter tang of her sweat numbing his lips and tongue. His head swam with the memory of Olivia, limp and white in Albus' arms. Feeling his stomach roll, the wizard pressed his thin lips into a tight line, the brandy he had imbibed earlier threatening to join the gory mess already marking the grey stones.
Olivia!
Snape's gut clinched.
He must get to the infirmary! His skills would be required. Poppy would be demanding potions. Wasn't there a doction to increase the body's ability to produce blood? Which text? Which damned text? His brain screamed out the ingredients for a lung strengthening draught as he headed for the corridor that would lead him to the infirmary only to pause as his booted foot came into contact with something on the floor. A hissed command brought the object flying to his hand, coloring the palm an even deeper shade of red. A muscle twitched along his pale cheek when he recognized the serpent hilt of his missing letter opener. The blade had broken cleanly away from the twining silver reptile and Severus stifled a moan as he imagined the naked steel buried in Olivia's body.
A struggling noise pulled his attention to Malfoy. The young Slytherin was slowly pushing himself from the floor, his face chalky white, save where four, raw lines were etched into the skin. Thrusting all concern for Olivia to the back of his mind, Snape stretched his body to its most intimidating height, condensing his pain and rage into a fine pinpoint of resolve. The raw torment slid from his features like water from a window pane, leaving behind a vista of forbidding desolation.
Draco kept his eyes fixed upon his Head of House as he levered himself unsteadily to his feet. The blazing glare of anger that he expected was frightfully absent. Snape's gaze was black as ever, but now the eyes were flat, dead, unfeeling. There was no spark of rage, not even madness to give them life, just a cold emptiness that caused Draco's heart to seize in his breast. The persistent rumbling from the werewolf was almost comforting when compared to the corpse-like silence of the Potions Master.
His voice, when he spoke, reminded Draco of stone; stone on stone, as if a crypt were being sealed, the last whispers of hope shut away in death.
"You thought to revenge yourself upon her with my own blade?" The eyes remained frozen; water turned to iron in winter's grip. "What then? Was I to take the blame whilst you slithered away to gloat upon your deed?" Snape pocketed the hilt before spitting, "How very Slytherin of you."
His ears still burning from McGonagall's blows, Draco heard his professor's voice through a dull roar and pulled his battered frame as erect as possible. "Revenge?" Draco sighed, his mein one of insulted pride." I like to think myself above acting upon so petty a motivator as revenge." He spit a stream of pink tinged saliva to the floor and layed his palm over his heart. "Believe me or no, as is your desire, but my actions tonight were born of a purer, nobler womb." Wiping the blood from his lips with the back of his hand, Draco continued. "As for the blame, it is mine to take. I do so gladly." A giggle bubbled its way from his throat, bursting loudly with his next words. "Damn, but I did hope to get away with it. Bloody shame, that."
In a blur of motion Draco was pinned to the wall, his feet dangling helplessly above the floor, Snape's fingers gouging his windpipe. The blunt tip of the professor's wand was pressed firmly into the delicate tissue below the teen's left eye, the pressure increasing until he felt the orb would surely fly from its mooring and bounce across the corridor. Over Czar's thunderous baying, Draco heard Snape's chiding voice.
"I do not have in me, at the moment, the grace necessary to allow you a happy death." Snape crooned, the words sliding over Draco's brain like hot oil. "I shall eviscerate you, peel your hide so slowly that minutes shall seem as years!" He smiled coldly as Draco's throat convulsed beneath his fingers. Laying his cheek against the struggling teen's face, Snape whispered, " In the coming years, Death Eaters will piss themselves in fear as they recall the manner in which you died. Shut up!" This last was blasted over his shoulder at the barking Sirius. Close to the black flank, stood the werewolf, his eyes gleaming with fire. "Take Remus to his chamber." He ordered the animal. "None are safe while he is in this state."
With a snarl of refusal, Sirius advanced, teeth gleaming.
"You are MINE to command, you bastard! Now go!" Snape's left hand remained about his prisoner's throat but he now directed the glowing tip of his wand at the black dog. His gaze blurring with pain and lack of oxygen, Draco could only watch in shocked amaze as the animal cringed, yet held his place. The black wolf stepped closer, uttering a sharp yip and whine. Recognizing the staunch refusal in both canine eyes, Snape grimaced. "Stay if you will, but interfere at your own risk!"
With the speed of a striking cobra, Snape's wand returned to bite deeply into the pit of Draco's eye. "Did you think he would protect you, my little dragon?" The older wizard inquired silkily. He relaxed the pressure of his fingers, allowing a thread of life prolonging air to trickle into his victim's lungs. Snape stretched his lips into a ghastly smile while his eyes remained sterile. He could keep Malfoy alive for days in this manner, rationing the amount of oxygen until the boy's lungs burned with hunger. Just one of those handy little skills he had picked up during a Voldemort get together. "The cur has been bound unto MY service." He continued. " Perhaps when I have extracted my measure of justice from your frame, I will command that he gnaw the remaining meat from your bones." The crushing vise about Draco's throat eased a bit more and Snape noted with satisfaction that the glazed eyes began to clear.
"Now, boy!" He snarled, giving the dangling figure a hard shake, " Since revenge is not the goal, you will tell me, by whose order did you attack Miss McGonagall?"
The breathing space allotted to Draco that he might formulate a response, also gave his brain the necessary fuel for action. Realizing that living was no longer an option, but refusing to suffer torture, Draco strained to twist his features into a trademark smirk. "Give me some credit for originality, sir. " He managed to croak. "I came up with this one on my own."
A well meaning pillar courteously put an end to Draco's Snape-propelled flight, and the youth crumbled at its base in appreciation. Through rolling eyes, he watched as twin Potions Masters advanced to stand before him. A pair of long fingered hands, the set not holding the wands, grabbed the teen by his shirt front and yanked him upwards until he peered into four flat, ebony orbs.
"I have never considered you capable of truly independent thought, Mr. Malfoy." The elder Slytherin said coldly. "Unthinking obedience has been bred into you and your generation. You are too lazy and spoiled to bother with something as tedious as cognition. You would blindly perform any command without a care to the consequences!"
Draco blinked slowly and gave his professor a bitter smile. "A bit like you then, sir." He swallowed with some effort. "How does it feel knowing you were my mentor?"
Sucking breath through his clenched teeth, Snape tightened his fingers in the fabric of Draco's shirt, pulling the younger man closer, the accusation striking deeply into the Potions Master's soul. "Were that the case, young serpent, you would have never lifted a hand against her." Swallowing through the tightness building in his throat, Snape half groaned his next words. "She is precious. Her value, beyond price. She is..."
"A vessel! You said so yourself, you sick bastard!" Draco snapped. "A vessel, nothing more!" He saw Snape flinch under the whip of his words and tears once more made their way down the teen's blood streaked cheeks. "Now that vessel is useless! Voldemort has lost! With her death, his foul malignancy passes from this world."
Severus shook his black head slowly, trying to reconcile Malfoy's words with his terrible crime. From behind him, there rose a duet of mystified whines and growls.
"Yes!" Draco gloated. "Tom Riddle dies with her." He somehow produced a toothy grin. "You and Father can go and screw yourselves!" He spat in his professor's face and watched as the crystal droplets melded with Snape's rising sweat. "Get it over with, you lying, deceitful bastard! Kill me. You will have the rest of Christmas Eve to mourn the death of your lord and his twisted visions!" Draco brought his fists up, bashing Snape's temples, before digging his fingers into the ebony lengths. "You. Bastard!" He wailed. "I trusted you! I thought you were different...." Fighting for breath, Draco choked, "I trusted you!"
Shaken, Severus allowed his grip to relax slightly. He realized he tread upon very thin ice. One misstep, one wrong word, and his role as spy, his very life, would be forfeit. Exhaling slowly, he whispered. "You trusted me to do what, Draco?"
With a grimace, Draco turned his face as far as the professor's grip allowed, but Snape would not be denied.
"What is it you trusted me to do, boy?" he demanded, his tone forceful.
Draco shrugged painfully and lifted his silver-blue eyes to Snape's. "I trusted you to do the right thing, sir." he stated, the final word laced heavily with sarcasm.
Keeping his expression passive, Snape inquired lowly. "Now, what would that right thing be, Mr. Malfoy? Educate me."
The roar in Draco's ears was making it difficult to concentrate and the glimmering black spots had returned to confuse his vision. "To be a better wizard than the man I call Father." Draco replied, his lips barely moving. The blond head started to loll drunkenly and he fought to remain alert.
Snape felt his soul flinch, and he relaxed his iron grip upon the Slytherin. In a flash, the heel of Draco's hand rammed home under the other wizard's jaw. Snape reeled backwards and Draco was free, his wand summoned once more to his possession. The Potions Master ducked aside, barely avoiding the hex flung his way, but he felt the scorching heat of its passing. His jaws ringing from the teen's blow, Snape rolled over the stones, his return fire sparking from the pillar where Draco had been pinned. Sirius and Lupin retreated around a corner, communicating with sharp yips and whines.
A curse sizzled on on the floor near Snape's head. "Vacuus!" He cast the shadow spell and concealed himself within its ebony depths. Through its somber fog he could discern the blurred outlines of Black and Lupin positioning themselves near possible escape routes. Crouching low, the black haired wizard scuttled the length of one stretch of wall, his eyes casting about for Draco's presence.
Occupied with its eternal warfare against the night, torch light wavered in its advance and retreate over the stones. The Potions Master flicked among the scintillating pulses of yellow and orange and as he moved he could feel the liquid weight of the shadow spell laying across his shoulders like a cloak, bending the light away from his stalking form. Ignored by the glow, he dipped and twisted his slender frame around and between the golden lances of firelight. Of the young Slytherin, there was no sign, but Snape knew Draco remained within the gallery. He would have been spotted by Lupin and Black had he attempted to escape by the corridor or along the stairs.
The young Slytherin would not be allowed to flee the school. If news of the attack on Olivia somehow leaked out, Draco's life would be forfit. Every Death Eater, Lucius included, would be trolling for the boy. If he spoke true, and he was against Voldemort...
Or, if this be a ruse engineered by the elder Malfoy to ferret out Snape's true allegiance...
Either way, the Potions Master knew he must keep Draco within the castle. For all their sakes. Besides, there was the need to avenge the brutal abuse to Olivia.
Olivia! Severus pinched his eyes hard against the internal pain. He wanted, NO, needed to be with her.
Now to flush the snakeling from his hole.
Silent, dark as spilt ink, the wizard moved within the wavering beams, his presence, the absence of light.
From where he crouched behind a massive earthen pot, Draco eyed the canine pair taking up their positions, knowing his escape was impossible. His breath fogged as it passed from between bloodied lips, while his body sweated out drops of condensed fear, freezing his skin. Any fragile hope of surviving this night had died the moment Snape and the animals had appeared in the gallery. That knowledge had brought with it a kind of tremulous peace, and he was almost content with the idea of death. He started as a hissed inquiry leaked from the gloom.
"You would pit your feeble strength against the power of the Dark Lord and all his angels?"
"I would." Draco replied, peering around the edge of the urn, searching out the Potions Master. "I have."
"To what end, little dragon?"
The voice came from a different direction this time and Draco whirled, swallowing audibly. "I have succeeded where thousands before me have failed." Sweat stung his eyes and he squinted, attempting to locate the other wizard's presence. "I found his weakest point and it was there I struck."
"Miss McGonagall?"
Now the hissing voice emanated from his left and, once more, Draco spun on his haunches, his wand at the ready. "Yes."
"You have yet to answer the question." The chilling whisper had moved yet again. "To. What. End? Did you see youself as savior to the Wizarding world? You placed yourself in harm's way to bring freedom to the populace?"
With a snort Draco brought his head slightly above the lip of his hiding place. "Hardly that! What do you take me for, sir, a Hufflepuff?"
A rimy bark of laughter was the only reply and Draco focused his attention in the direction of its source. Keeping low, the youth eased from behind the clay vessel before darting into the shade of a nearby alcove. Taking stock of the area, he decided to join Snape in his game of voice tag. "Altruism has never been my strong suit. I did this for me."
"Indeed." Came the dry reply and Draco caught a glimmer of movement from the corner of his eye. Firing off spells, he sumersaulted over the stones, tucking his frame behind a stout pillar. He pushed him self to his feet, leaning heavily against the grainy surface.
"He shall rise again."
The sound slithered over his skin and Draco grinned ruefully. "Well yea, hopefully, by then Potty will be ready to fry his scaly ass."
"Yet you will be dead. Where is the pleasure in that?"
Another snort escaped the youth. "Oh well, that part really sucks, but...."
"Severus! Hurry, we need you!"
Draco's wand clattered to the floor as he slammed his hands hard to his ears. The thunderous voice of Madam Pomfery rolled through the chamber like an explosion, shaking the dust from the ceiling and rattling the paintings on their wires. Recovering quickly, he dove for his wand, only to find his battered face reflected in the shining toes of expensive leather boots.
"We shall save this conversation for a future time, but for now, Stupefacio!" A blinding, scarlet light filled Draco's vision and then there was only darkness.
Professor Snape hurtled through the chilled silence of Hogwart's School, the unconscience Draco Malfoy streaking along behind like the icy tail of a black comet. Poppy's urgent call still echoed in his head and his heart, reminding the tall wizard that even after all these years, all his trials, he could still experience soul numbing fear.
He took no solace in being reminded of his human state. Not if Olivia were no longer here to share it with him.
The two canines had loped along beside him until they reached the Grand Staircase. There they peeled off, heading for the sanctury of the dungeons, Snape's promise to keep them informed of Olivia's state bringing them small comfort.
Severus halted at the infirmary entrance, his heart and lungs straining from his run and the anxiety that had fueled his flight. He grunted angrily when the hard soles of Draco's trainers rammed him sharply between the shoulders, propelling him into the stout wooden plane. Snatching the door wide, he entered, the floating figure prodding rudely at his back. With a wave of his hand, Snape sent the dangling form to hover above a bed and then disengaged the spell. Malfoy fell hard onto the mattress, a moan rising from his brusied mouth.
A hiss of moving cloth caused the Potions Master to whirl about. Ginny Weasley, her hands filled with bloody and torn material was slipping from behind a curtained partition. Snape knew that the girl was studying mediwizardary under Poppy's capable eye, and that she had remained behind over the Christmas break to continue her work in the field. Now he watched as the young red head quietly pulled the white material shut and hurriedily crossed the room to where he stood, panting.
"Professor Snape," she whispered urgently. "Madam needs you, sir. They are attempting to stabilize Miss McGonagall and require every wand that can be safely utilized." Her cinnimon eyes were filled with worry and she pulled her lower lip between her front teeth as she cast a concerned glance over her shoulder. "Please hurry, sir."
"Of course," Snape replied, heading around the girl towards the drapery that glowed with the soft yellow light of many candles. He stopped abruptly. "Miss Weasley, there is another patient yonder that requires medical attention." He pointed in the direction of where Draco lay sprawled across a mattress.
Ginny's eyes grew wide at the sight of her family's long time enemy laying so obviously damaged but she quickly schooled her features into their more professional lines and nodded briskly. "Yes, I will do what I can until Madam is free."
"Under no circumstances is he to be wakened." Snape informed her coldly. "Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir!" The young woman responded promptly. She tossed her bundle into a nearby hamper and moved to the sink where she began to scrub her hands in preperation for dealing with Draco Malfoy and his injuries.
Poppy's head appeared in an opening of the curtians. "Severus, come! Come!" Holding the drapery aside, she allowed Snape to pass into the sequestered area. "She has lost a great deal of blood. Right now, we need to stabilize her body functions so that I may begin to address the healing. We dare not entertain the idea of moving her to St. Mungo's..."
The words that continued to pour from Poppy were a whispered blur as Severus took in the nude woman upon the bed. Olivia's skin had taken on the hue of pale, blue-veined marble. So bloodless was her face that her lips had all but become invisible, the only color on her slack features, the violent brusies left by Malfoy's hands. Similiar marks stained the lithe column of her throat and her slim arms, one of which was wrapped in a makeshift bandgage that leaked scarlet droplets upon the bedsheets and floor. It was the sight of her gaping wounds that nearly brought a howl of rage from Severus. The gashes in her side and lower abdomen grinned at him like the mouths of filthy monsters, the purple muscle tissue a hidious desecration on her still, white body. He staggered slightly as he moved closer to the bed, the grinding agony he had experienced in the Upper Gallery revisiting him, only this time stronger, hotter. He placed his palm over her smooth brow, wincing from the cold radiating from her skin. Her breathing was labored and shallow. From where he hovered, Snape could hear the wet, sticky sound of her efforts.
"Olivia?" Snape whispered brokenly. He ached to pick her up and press her cold body to his, warm her.
"She has not regained conscienceness since I took her from you, Severus."
Snape's head snapped up and he met the faded blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore. "At this time," The old man continued, his tone heavy with worry and grief. "I will not press you for the events that led up to this horrible event."
Minerva McGonagall moved into the candle light, placing a hand on Dumbledore's arm. Her face was twisted by a mother's pain but her eyes were dry and determined. "Poppy has need of all our strengths." She spoke in a calm, hard voice. " Together, we may be enough to sustain Olivia until Poppy has determined the extent of her injuries." Minerva's blue eyes held Severus' in a fierce grip. She would not let him fail her; not now, when her child lay upon the brink of death. She would kill him herself before she allowed him to leave the room. "It will take every ounce of energy we possess. Do you understand me, Severus?"
Nodding grimly, Snape began to remove his robe. He felt a slight weight bump against his thigh and remembered the blade hilt he had found on the floor after relinquishing Olivia to Albus' care. "Wait!" He barked, thrusting his hand into a deep pocket. "There is this." He pulled the hilt free and showed the bloodly piece of metal to the hovering mediwitch. "I fear the blade is buried in Olivia." He heard Minerva gasp and moan. "I know not where."
Madam's brow puckered. "None of the wounds I have seen so far would have broken a blade of this thickness. It is all soft tissue injuries...muscles, some fat... Quickly, roll her over to her side!" Poppy commanded. "Gently now. Minerva, hold her head and shoulder, if you would. There, a bit more... Sweet Circe!"
Directly between Olivia's shoulders the skin had been broken by a single, ragged gouge. Blood no longer oozed from the wound and a glint of jagged metal could been spied hiding between the layers of torn tissue.
"The blade is keeping the wound from bleeding further. If I were to remove it now..." Poppy hesitated. "Yet it is more than likely the cause of the difficulity she is having with her breathing. Her lungs are slowing filling with blood." She glanced up at the trio of worried faces. "Miss Weasley!" The plump mediwitch bellowed over Snape's shoulder and Ginny appeared with the speed of a house elf.
"Yes, Madam?"
"We have need of you, Miss Weasley." Poppy hurriedly informed her young intern, directing the others with her hands into propping Olivia on her side using blankets and pillows.
"What shall I do about Draco Malfoy?" Ginny inquired, already moving to help settle Olivia.
Poppy's head snapped up. "Draco Malfoy?" She turned to glare at Severus.
"He, too, was injured in tonight's fray." Snape supplied.
"Is he in danger of dying, Miss Weasley?" Madam inquired shrilly.
"No Madam. Bit of a head injury, some cuts and bruises."
"Then he can have a bit of a lay in. We have more important work in here."
At the questioning glare that Snape sent Miss Weasley, Poppy added, "She can be trusted, Severus. Now, wands out!"
Fatigue and time wore away at the Slytherin Head's spell and thus Draco's mind staggered into reality like a drunkard returning home after an all night pub crawl. With throbbing eyes, gummed around with stale tears and grime, Draco peered painfully at the single source of light in his murky world. His lips seemed to have suffered the same fate as his eyes for they too was glued fast and stung mightily as he forced his tacky tongue between the fused flesh. The blond head throbbed with each beat of his heart and the youth felt certain that there was no part of his person that was free of torment. Snape had obviously followed through with the promise of seperating him from his skin, Draco mused and carefully raised one hand to view the destruction. Though the movement brought a sharp twinge to his joints, the Slytherin was pleased to find himself yet encased in smooth, golden hide. So, Snape had not gotten to that part of his torture, yet. Yea, Draco remarked cooly to himself. I didn't miss the good stuff after all.
A strident muttering pulled the injured teen's attention from his still intact flesh. Rolling his head slightly and squinting against the glare of concentrated candlelight, Draco attempted to bring the blurred shapes before him into sharper focus. There, silhouetted against the backdrop of an infirmary curtain were a drained appearing Professor Snape and Madam Pomfery, the mediwitch gripping the Potions Master's upper arms as she spoke in low, urgent tones. Breathing silently, Draco concentrated all his energies on making out her words.
"Severus, I have done all I can but the blood loss is simply too great! I can give her a blood regenerating potion, but it puts the child at terrible risk."
Draco watched as a quake shook his Head of House and the shoulders that were always so rigid and planed grew flaccid and bent. "No!" The dark man objected, burying his face in his hands, the fingers curling inwards, as if they would rip away the terrible reality of Madam's words. "She cannot die!" Whipping himself from the mediwitch's grasp, Snape hatefully scrubbed his visage with work calaused palms. Draco stifled a gasp of alarmed surprise as Snape lowered his hands. All the pain in the world had been splashed upon the professor's features, like some form of cruel graffiti. The usually stern face was now a canvas filled with unvarnished suffering, the black eyes, rimmed by reddened and swollen lids, were hollow with grief. "The babe... it means everything, but without Olivia..."
Poppy laid an understanding hand upon the bent shoulders. "Severus, the rush of blood created by the regenerating potion would overwhelm the babe's system; t'would be more than he could handle...alone." She added the last word almost as a question.
"What are you saying?" The pale wizard hissed, turning to face the plump witch once more.
Draco waited, his heart nearly choking him.
Poppy hesitated.
Severus growled.
"If the father were to intervene..." Poppy ventured, her expression one of reluctant uncertainty.
"Speak, woman!" Snape demanded in a biting whisper and on his bed, Draco flinched.
"One of the same blood, the father, to stand between the baby and the potion's results," the short witch replied quickly. "I am not saying that it will work, but if the additional blood flow can be slowed to a manageable level..." She rubbed a weary hand across her brow. "It couldn't be done by just anyone. The spell must be performed by someone in the direct family. Olivia is unable, Minerva is not tied by blood, but by law. That leaves only the child's natural father." She looked at Professor Snape with compassionate worry. "Do you think he would be willing to step forward, claim the child as his own?"
The wizard's shoulders once more became straight and firm, the lines in his face shifting to mirror their resolute posture. "He is willing." He made to push past the mediwitch, but she halted him with a gentle touch to his upper arm.
"Severus," She said tenderly. "I am offering you only a shadow of hope. I can make no promises here."
Draco watched, horror struck as Professor Snape nodded briefly, his heavy sigh flaring the nostrils of his prominent nose and ruffling the greying hair that escaped Madam Pomfrey's cap. "I know." The pair melted behind the curtain to reform themselves as blurred splotches of movement along its pleated surface.
Draco wanted to howl in frustration and horror. Not only Snape, but Madam Pomfery as well? The tiny mediwitch, with her annoyingly brisk effenciency had never once struck Draco as being a hidden Death Eater. He had never detected a taint of evil in her sunny manner, had not once witnessed a single act of cruelity. Yet, here she was, with Snape! Talking about bringing Voldemort here? To Hogwart's? The world was going mad! A hitch in his chest brought a silent sob from the teen and he struggled to bring his body upright. He had to escape from this den of liars! Who would become part of the plot next? Hagrid?
Rolling to his side, Draco forced his feet to shift to the edge of the mattress and on to the floor. Biting back a groan, he levered himself up to sitting and by leaning forward was able to reach the rails of next bed over. Panting, he glanced up through the silver spill of his hair to ascertain the proceedings going on behind the gold tinted screen. The muttering and murmuring of overlaying voices covered Draco's struggles as he braced himself to rise. If he could make it to the door, there was a good chance of escape through the humpbacked witch. Though Filch had sealed the passage off at the end of Draco's third year, the cunning members of Slytherin House had managed to circumvent the Squib's work by simply changing the opening to the opposite side of the grotesque statue. Once in Honeydukes, he figured ...
Oh hell, Draco old bean, one step at a time.
Planting his feet firmly, he pulled himself to a standing position, then using the rail for balance, made his painful way to the foot of the bed. Draco gave himself a second or two to orient his brain to his body's sudden change in altitude before stepping quietly over the stones towards the beckoning door. He was half way to his goal when, cursing himself for a twice over fool, he gave in to his curiosity and padded silently to the drapery concealing the bed of Olivia McGonagall. Keeping his body well away from the curtain, Draco leaned to place an eye near an opening in the cloth.
Professor Snape's broad back was to the spying youth, and though he could not see the mediwitch, her voice reached his listening ears.
"Severus, my pardon if I have offended you in anyway, but Olivia never shared the secret of the father's name with me and it was not my place to demand she come clean. I had to make sure, before we attempted the spell. It would not have been safe to..."
"Get on with it, Madam!" Snape growled. "Stop your nattering and proceed!" The black back moved and took up a postion nearer the bed, leaving Draco's view of the scene unhindered.
His blue eyes widened as he took in the evidence of his aborted murder. Miss McGonagall appeared as a corpse, her matted auburn hair, a glaring contrast to the paleness of her face. The rest of her body was covered in a sheet that seemed nearly grey in comparison to her white skin. She lay propped upon several pillows, which were now being tenderly removed by Ginny Weasley as Madam Pomfery wheeled a covered cart closer to the bed.
"Poppy," a ragged voice whispered from the gloom beyond the candle's glow, and Draco's world endured another blow when Professor McGonagall, supported by Albus Dumbledore, stepped into his view. "are you sure this is for the best?" the elderly witch inquired in a broken voice.
Never pausing in her preperations, the mediwitch replied, "Actually Minerva, this is my final hope. I may be the one administering the potion, but Olivia is truly in God's hands now." Thus saying, she pulled the sterile covering from the cart, revealing a strange, curved metal device, a coil of rubber tubing, a funnel and a sparkling vial of potion. "Miss Weasley, if you will be so good?" Poppy addressed the young woman, who nodded, placing the metal tool in the healer's hand before shifting to the top of the bed where she gently eased Miss McGonagall's head back, pointing the unconscience witch's chin ceiling ward.
With cool efficiency, Poppy eased the metal item, which reminded Malfoy of a large shoehorn, into Olivia's open mouth and down her throat. Once the device was in place, the healer began snaking the rubber tube along the gleaming slide and into the woman's body. Draco felt his eyes water as he fought against a sympathetic gag reflex. When Poppy seemed satisfied with the amount of tube concealed within her patient, she removed the metal device carefully, handing it off to Miss Weasley, who stood ready with the funnel. Madam inserted the narrow end into the tubing as far as it would go and then, turning to Snape, she held the dark wizard's eyes for a brief second, though an eternity of meaning was in her glance. She nodded curtly.
Intrigued, Draco stepped closer to his viewing hole, his entire body trembling with the strain of the evening and the scene unfolding before him. The youth observed in shocked disbelief as his Head of House knelt beside the hospital bed and without hesitation, placed both hands over the gentle swelling of Miss McGonagall's belly. When Professor Snape began to speak, Draco backed away from the partition, the silver blond head slowly shaking in denial, his brain silently screaming, "No!"
"I worshiped at this alter, offered myself up to this woman. With gladness did she receive me. In giving and taking was the seed planted. I acknowledge you as my child. With a joyful and open heart do I make this claim. Never will I deny you. Never will I forsake you. Blood calls to blood and none shall gainsay me." This last was pronounced firmly, nearly as a challenge, then Severus laid his face upon Olivia's abdomen and grew silent. Under the gaunt cheek, a soft light began to glow.
Poppy carefully emptied the contents of the vial into the funnel. Almost immediatedly, Olivia began to thrash violently. Albus and Minerva jumped forward, as did Miss Weasley, each gripping the flailing limbs as the mediwitch nimbly extracted the tubing. "Don't stop Severus!" She called, adding her strength to the effort at restraining the witch. "Her system is fighting the potion. The child will remain in danger until she has settled."
The battle seemed interminable. Olivia cried out as new pain ripped through her entire body, firing each fiber and cell, eating through to the very marrow in her bones. "Brigit!" Her scream cut into the hearts of those who held her, and Minerva leaned close, murmuring, "Olivia. Peace my baby. Mama is here. You are going to be fine, dearest. Hush, hush, hush." Yet Olivia would not be appeased. Her eyes were open now, glazed in pain and confusion as she gasped and struggled.
"Severus!" she pleaded, her tired voice frayed and bleak. "Want Severus."
Quickly, Poppy took the wrist she held and guided Olivia's hand to the black mane pressed to her lower body. "Here, child. Severus is here." With a shuddering sigh, Olivia calmed. Her body slowly sank into peace and her once desperate cries disappeared in grateful release. Her hand remained on Snape's dark head, her fingers entwined in the silky mass.
Each one around the bed released a pent up breath as they relaxed their individual holds on the now placid witch. Poppy began to busily run her wand along her patient's length, carefully monitoring the color and intensity of the glowing tip. Minerva collapsed against the Headmaster's chest, her hands fisted into the rich purple fabric of his robes. Ginny Weasley busied herself with clearing away the used insturments, ever alert to Poppy's flickering wand, ready to respond at a second's notice.
Severus continued to rest his face upon Olivia's stomach, his pale skin tinted blue by the faint glow rising from her belly. Any embarrassment he would have normally experienced at such intimate contact before an audience was pushed aside, entranced as he was by the steadily beating heart of the slumbering fetus. The protective spell wove itself about father and son and Severus lingered, jealously guarding his child's sleep.
Madam Pomfery's softly whispered words pulled a reluctant Snape from his post. "She is responding nicely, as is the babe." A congratulatory pat that would have normally vexed the recalcitrant wizard was allowed without rebuke as Severus pushed himself to his feet. Poppy flashed him a tired, but happy grin. "Well done, Severus. You are going to make an excellent daddy."
A haggard cry, followed by a thundering crash, sounded beyond the partitioned cubical. With a growl, Snape drew his wand, snatching the curtain aside in a single motion. In the flood of yellow light huddled Draco Malfoy, surrounded by a debris field of bedpans and instrument trays. Lifting tear filled eyes, the teen spied the ominous form of his professor advancing upon him and frantically made to crawl to some area of safety. He screamed in fear as he felt long, slender fingers clamp themselves painfully around his upper arm and haul him roughly to his feet.
"Mr. Malfoy!" Severus barked into the young wizard's face. "What mischief are you plotting now? Did my chastisement earlier tonight teach you nothing?" He gave the boy a brutal shake, causing Draco to grasp at Snape's lapels to steady himself.
"Oh shit, sir!" He keened. "Oh shit! " Pressing his face to the older wizard's breast, Draco whispered brokenly. "What have I done, sir? Shit, shit, shit!"
Severus surprised himself by stroking the back of Malfoy's silver head.
He then replied lowly, "I believe you attempted to kill my son."
Ok, I know you all have waited a long time for this one. Sorry I am such a lazy wench. I thank each and every one of you who have reviewed, emailed, even contacted me by land line to encourage me to continue with this tale. As it is summer vacation and I am NOT teaching summer school, I will be writing more. I am starting the next installment tonight. I won't make any promises, but I hope to get the chapters up faster. I would really love to have this thing wrapped up by the time school takes in this August.
Big huggs and kisses to you all.