Ex Umbris
Chapter 8
"There now, Severus dear," Madam Pomfrey put his newly bandaged hands back in his lap. "Now, they're broken in quite a few places, and since Healing spells aren't working we'll have to rely on Healing potions."
"Healing potions and spells are for the living, of which I don't think I am quite yet." Severus Snape studied the black and white tiled floor in front of the bed he was once again sitting on. He was clean, finally, after what seemed like forever. His hair---which had grown a startlingly lot since he last remembered---was still damp and brushed back to his waist. The clothes the house elf brought for him included a baggy pair of dark green pajama pants and a comfortable white shirt, which remained unbuttoned at the top and shirttails untucked.
He sat with his legs folded on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees. Madame Pomfrey sat across from him, on another bed, studying him. "Of course you're alive, dear. You're breathing, aren't you?"
Severus didn't acknowledge her, so she tried another tactic. "Then we will have to wait for them to heal themselves, I suppose. That will take a few weeks, a month at the most."
Suddenly, he moved.
Poppy Pomfrey gasped out a curse.
Poppy Pomfrey was standing with her hands on her hips, looking down at her patient.
"…Well, I wasn't really going to kill it. Just get a snack, is all..."
The Headmaster decided to pretend he didn't hear that explanation and focus on the more pleasant …alive …side of the morning as he walked up to the hospital bed containing the potions master. "Good morning, Severus, how are you feeling?"
"Better, Albus. And yourself?"
"Oh, fine, fine. Did you sleep well?"
"Not really. I've been sleeping for ninety days."
"Are you hungry? Would you like me to bring you something to eat?" Albus attempted, looking eagerly at the man through his half-moon shaped spectacles.
…thirst I thirst for pain and fear and death and the hunt I must hunt and feed and kill…!
No!
Snape quelled the anger and irritation and hunger, feeling nauseous at the thought of having to eat eggs or pancakes or something dead and cooked. He was hungry …so hungry…but the thought of food made him feel ill.
…throats and wrists and hearts…tearing and cutting and ripping and bleeding…thick and red and warm and pulsing …
He felt his hands try to claw through the thick white bandages. Have to control this. Severus Snape is always in control. Breathe. Inhale. Exhale.
…screaming and begging and pleading …let me go, let me go! …you are mine, now, Severus. I own you! … you are mine! …you are me!
When Severus didn't answer the Headmaster, or even acknowledge that he had heard him at all, Poppy spoke up.
"Headmaster, may I have a word with you in private?" Poppy was wringing her hands nervously on her spotless white apron. Her eyes were red rimmed and sunken into her face. She looked as if she hadn't slept in a week, from the level of stress emanating from the woman.
"Of course, Poppy. If you would excuse us for a moment, Severus?" When he didn't appear to hear Albus, the Headmaster and Poppy left to the outer door of the hospital wing. They saw Minerva approaching, and waited for her to join them before Poppy spoke.
"Last night, Severus attacked a house-elf. It was behind me …and he jumped past me and had the poor thing pinned to the wall next to the window. There was something in his eyes …I don't know what …but he seemed to come to his senses before he harmed the poor thing."
"Dear Merlin," the transfiguration professor whispered hoarsely. "Need I ask how he is?" She peeked past Albus, through the door.
"He appears fine, very healthy. Healthier than before he died, without the bouts of Cruciatus and the anxiety attacks to eat away at him. Severus has the quickest metabolism I have ever seen, still. The man can eat all of Hogwarts' kitchen and not gain an ounce." She sounded slightly jealous as she folded her arms, but her face held a small, maternal smile.
"It's because he could never stop moving. He would spend weeks working on a potion with only an hour of sleep every other night…" Minerva trailed off, her eyebrows drawing down over her eyes. She was still looking into Poppy's workplace. "What is he doing, now?"