As ever, standard disclaimers apply.
Only when the rhythmic thumping of Alastor Moody's departure ceased to echo did Severus Snape show any semblance of life. His head lifted slowly so that his eyes seemed directed to the cup of tea in front of him though he made no move to reach for it nor gave any indication he actually saw it there.
Molly pursed her lips, a peculiar indicator of decisiveness with which her children were all intimately familiar.
"That's trouble," murmured a worried sounding Ron to his sister and Harry as all three teens stared at Mrs Weasley's expression.
Ginny nodded in knowing agreement, "I wouldn't want to be Mr Moody just now." Harry wisely kept his questions to himself.
"Ron, Harry, Ginny, if you are finished with breakfast you may see to cleaning your rooms," the mother's tone would clearly brook no discussion, but Ginny pouted anyway.
"Yes ma'am," three voices announced with identical (not to mention prudent) civility.
Remus had pulled over a chair and sat down beside his old schoolmate. "Severus," he whispered sotto voce as he watched the teens take their leave without making any sounds of dismay at their newly assigned chore. "I really think you ought to have some tea now." He dragged the cup closer. He watched Snape struggle with some internal difficulty before the dark eyes managed to alight and focus upon the still warm cup of tea.
Snape reached for the object with both hands, his face a study of concentration as if the motion was unnatural and had to be carefully forced. He brought the cup to his lips and drank without any apparent enjoyment. When the cup was empty he carefully set it down again and folded his hands in his lap and bowed his head again.
Remus sighed but Molly showed greater patience when she said with a gently coaxing tone, "You must eat as well, Severus," and pushed closer to him the plate of toast she'd earlier set out for him.
With uncharacteristic docility, the wizard obediently ate two pieces of toast before returning to the frighteningly morbid state of silent torpor.
Remus frowned. "We aren't making any progress here. We'll be all day at just getting breakfast into him."
"This is progress, dear. He'll eat more for lunch."
"We got him all the way down here for a cup of tea and two slices of toast? When you said he had to come down for breakfast I assumed you meant a real breakfast."
"Remus dear, don't pout. It doesn't suit you."
"Ever so sorry..." Remus shook his head and fought off the snide words he was about to spit out. He knew he had a tendency towards irritability when the full moon was close. "I really am sorry, Molly. I'm short-tempered today I fear."
"It's all right, Remus. Though speaking of breakfast, I haven't noticed you having any yet."
"Nor you."
A second serving of breakfast cluttered the table and the relaxed ambience of the other two adults at their meal was sufficient to entice the Potions Master to accept another cup of tea and a few spoonfuls of warm scrambled eggs when they were placed before him. Molly beamed with satisfaction at her success which brought about an answering smile from Remus.
---
Margaret Sellinger never referred to herself as 'Maggie' and people who did took their lives in their hands. With one exception. The division chief who even now, on a Saturday no less, was giving her a wide and very fake smile. She had long ago decided that the man would not have known how to deliver a real one if his life depended on it. She supposed that was one of the reasons he was chief of R&D instead of the field agents divisions; they all knew a phony and scientists didn't seem to care. She deliberately insinuated herself into one of the more comfortable looking chairs in his very posh office. She gave him an insipid smile that was no more genuine than his own. And wondered if he could tell the difference.
"Maggie my dear, you must know that we are not in the slightest upset with you although we would have preferred it if your experimental subject had been properly disposed of--"
"I wasn't finished with him."
"Indeed. And I'm told that you will shortly have him back. Well, I must tell you that the Powers-That-Be are extremely interested in your research, my dear. A whole new facility is being readied for your work. This one will be located in the north; somewhere not so readily accessible to anyone who might wander by. All of your notes and equipment are of course being transferred."
"Wonderful, but I can't leave until after I have my subject back. The... people who are obtaining him know only me and will cooperate with no one else."
"I am aware of that, my dear. The agents you have been working with will continue to work with you for now. I just wanted to let you know how highly thought of this project has become. You will not fail this time, will you."
"I didn't intend to fail before. If we'd had the safeguards I asked for--"
"They and others will be in place. You need only make the request and anything you want will be delivered."
Margaret's smile became genuine.
--
Madame Pomfrey showed up an hour or so after noon, hesitantly (because of the Damnable Portrait) announcing herself via the heavy door knocker. She was taken aback somewhat when the opening door was accompanied not by the expected screeching and howling, but by young men's voices and a faint sobbing. She stepped inside. Not just any young men, but the ever inventive Weasley twins. The pair had clambered up two ladders that had been placed to either side of the Abominable Painting and it was this very painting from which the most heart wrenching moans now did emanate. "About bloody time some one took care of this annoyance," the otherwise kindly mediwitch announced in her most disdainful tones. Of course this only made the sobbing worse. Molly Weasley, who had been the one to actually come to the door, was wearing the most woebegone expression. "Oh come, Molly! It's a painting girl, not an actual human being! Besides, I wouldn't put it past her to have treated people worse than what her painting's about to receive."
"Right, mum, you know how she treated her house-elves, after all," George had to add, glancing down at the witches. He grinned at his brother and together they set about sticking little pieces of paper around the edges of the painting. Madame Black moaned and began making offers of conciliation, in the most abject tones possible.
Poppy humphed and turned her full attention on Molly, dismissing the melodrama going on at the wall. "Well, I'm here to see Severus. Has he shown any improvement?"
Molly's shift of attention was less complete as her compassionate nature did not allow her to dismiss the piteous cries so completely. "Oh... Yes, some. But I'm afraid not very stable improvement." She started leading the way to the stairs up to the first floor.
"Appetite?"
"None really. He did have toast and a bit of egg this morning. In the kitchen. It would have gone much better if Alastor hadn't shown up." She grimaced at the memory of the very one-sided confrontation. She stopped outside the bedroom's closed door. She had wanted to muffle the ousting of the painting as much as possible. "Severus, Poppy has come to see you." She opened the door slowly not at all surprised to find that the younger wizard had not moved from the plush wing chair Remus had left him sitting. In fact she wasn't even sure he had heard her warning for he was staring at the window. Following his gaze she saw only the grey sky and a few birds in flight and the roofs of nearby buildings.
Poppy moved to stand in front of Severus, cutting off his view. She was pleased when his eyes focused and his face turned up to look at her. she was, however, not very encouraged by his befuddled expression. So unlike himself. "Severus, I am here to see how you are faring. I am going to examine you. Do you understand?"
He stared at her unblinkingly for a moment and then answered, "No," in a rather flat and unemotional tone.
The nurse's lips compressed into a line of annoyance. "Is that, 'no' you don't understand or 'no' you don't wish me to examine you?"
He seemed to need to consider this. His response, short as it was however, made perfectly clear his intended meaning. "Go away."
The witch snorted. "Certainly not! I came all this way from Hogwarts to London. Do you think I have nothing better to do than apparate all over Great Britain for nothing?"
The wizard appeared to give this serious thought. "I do not know," he replied honestly. Molly almost giggled.
"Well, I have no time for such nonsense. Now sit still, I am not going to hurt you."
Molly came over to his side. "Severus, do you remember Hogwarts?" Perhaps she could redirect his attention away from Poppy and her diagnostic ministrations.
As she anticipated, the dark head turned to look at her and after a moment the depleted voice returned, "No."
"It's a school, Severus." That didn't seem to clarify anything. But at that moment, Poppy moved away and his view of the window was once more unobstructed.
"Will he return?" The question was unexpected.
"Who dear?"
"Man. Angry man."
"I expect so. But he won't be allowed to hurt you."
"The other? Remus?"
"Ah, so you remember his name then? Yes. He'll be back but after tomorrow he will be away for a bit."
Severus nodded and turned his eyes to the window again. The two witches left him to whatever thoughts and diversions he was capable of, gently closing the door behind them.
They headed to the kitchen, noting, as they passed through the entrance hall, the empty wall space where The Portrait had been and now wasn't. Molly smiled as relief from some heretofore unrecognized stress flooded through her. "I'll make some tea. What did you find?"
Poppy waited til tea and biscuits were spread out before addressing the subject of the Potions Master's health. "He needs to eat more and drink more. I am glad to see that he is responding to outside stimulus."
"But there is no memory of anything or anyone and you can see how so ... unlike himself he is."
"As much as I'd like to call that last bit an improvement of his disposition, it is worrying. But he did remember who Remus is."
Molly shook her head. "Not from before Poppy. He only remembers Remus and me because we are constantly with him."
"Even that is a good sign. It means that he isn't retreating any more; he is interacting and can be drawn out."
"Alastor insists that we are wasting our time."
"Severus might be better off at St. Mungos."
"But he wouldn't really, would he? He wasn't hexed or cursed. His debilitations are not magically induced. It was all Muggle machinations and their healing methods would only make things worse again."