* * * Last Night, I Dreamed I Went to Hogwarts * * *
He was assailed by strange dreams. Long periods of complete senselessness, punctuated by short gray interludes in which liquids were trickled into his mouth and he swallowed merely to get them to stop and let him sink back into the peace of nothingness. Once he recalled a hard cube with sharp edges being placed beneath his tongue. A syrupy sweetness erupted but it couldn't quite mask the bitterness of ... foxglove. Heartsease potion. He knew he had made the very drops that curled his tongue now, but couldn't remember what it was used for. He was asleep again before the sugar had melted.
He had some wisp of dream-memory that seemed to be Sirius Black leaning over him and pulling the comforter higher on his chest. That made no sense, so Snape retreated into his orderly darkness. Another brief snatch of light showed him Hermione Granger holding his hand. What the hell had they been pouring down him? The hallucinations were really quite fascinating.
When he finally struggled his way to full consciousness, he immediately wished he hadn't bothered to make the effort. All it gained him was a splitting headache, a sore chest and a general sense of having been laid out on a slab for years. He wondered if some enterprising student had dosed him with Mummy Juice and whether he ought to kill the little bastard or award him points for managing to brew the damned stuff correctly. Something itched behind his eyes...dose...brew...it was hard to think with his blood thumping through his skull like a hod of bricks rolling down a flight of stairs.
"Ungh?" he asked the Universe.
"Severus? Are you awake?" He was spared the necessity of answering when a cold glass tube was slipped into his mouth. He automatically began sucking and was rewarded with silky, cool water pouring down his parched throat. He blissfully swallowed again and again, feeling life pouring back into him with each mouthful. So, of course, it was immediately taken away.
His eyes snapped open and he blinked several times to clear his vision. But there was obviously still something wrong, because Sirius Black was sitting beside his bed, holding a half-full glass of water with a straw in it. The close view made no sense at all, so Snape tried focusing on the middle distance.
Beyond Black was a bed with Harry Potter lying in it, laid out like a knight on a bier. But not Harry Potter as he had last seen him, waxen and trembling, hollowed cheeks raspy with a beard he didn't dare charm away and stained with tears of pain. This vision of Potter showed him golden skinned, with warm blood flowing clean and pure beneath smooth young cheeks, his lips in a peaceful curve. Even as he watched, Potter took a deep breath and curled onto his side. One hand stole up under his cheek and a soft snore began to buzz from the sleeping man.
Brows knitting with suspicion of his own madness, Snape looked beyond to see Dumbledore sitting beside the sleeping Potter, calmly eating gumdrops and reading a copy of the Daily Prophet. The bright blue eyes flicked up to meet Snape's and a fond smile curved the bearded lips as the Headmaster simply looked at him but said nothing.
Finally, he couldn't stand it. "What happened?"
"You did it, Snape!" Black's voice seemed to echo unpleasantly in time with his throbbing skull. "It worked."
"Of course, it did, Black. I told you all that it would." It felt good to have someone to snarl at.
"Ha! You said you thought it might."
Snape winced at the volume, but managed a creditable sneer. "I told you idiots that I wasn't going to let him die." He coughed once and it felt as though his lungs had torn loose. "Now give me the water before I hurt you."
There was a disdainful snort, then Black's careful hand helping him to sit up, then guiding the straw to his mouth and letting him drink again. "You and what army, Snape?"
"Boys, as much as I'm enjoying this little trip through Memory Lane, perhaps you could keep the volume down so that Harry can sleep?" The Headmaster's voice was genial but there was a hint of steel in it.
"Too late," Potter yawned, then stretched and opened his eyes. When he saw Snape awake and sitting up, those green eyes lit up and a huge grin split his face. "Well, Severus, you look like ..." words appeared to fail him.
" ... like a troll sat on me?"
"Almost exactly," Potter nodded sagely.
"That'll cost you 10 points for insolence, Mr. Potter," Snape growled.
Harry Potter shrugged cheerfully. "It's Christmas Eve, make it 20."
Snape was struggling to find a suitably quashing reply when his brain caught up with the math. "How long have I been asleep?!"
"Three days," Dumbledore said, getting up and folding his paper. "You had us quite worried, Severus."
"... the poison?" he wondered aloud, remembering being vaguely concerned about residue on his fingertips and eating while brewing.
"No, you stupid git. You had a heart attack and nearly died on the damned floor." Oddly enough, that was Potter, sounding surprisingly like his godfather in a temper.
"Oh," he said faintly.
He was assailed by strange dreams. Long periods of complete senselessness, punctuated by short gray interludes in which liquids were trickled into his mouth and he swallowed merely to get them to stop and let him sink back into the peace of nothingness. Once he recalled a hard cube with sharp edges being placed beneath his tongue. A syrupy sweetness erupted but it couldn't quite mask the bitterness of ... foxglove. Heartsease potion. He knew he had made the very drops that curled his tongue now, but couldn't remember what it was used for. He was asleep again before the sugar had melted.
He had some wisp of dream-memory that seemed to be Sirius Black leaning over him and pulling the comforter higher on his chest. That made no sense, so Snape retreated into his orderly darkness. Another brief snatch of light showed him Hermione Granger holding his hand. What the hell had they been pouring down him? The hallucinations were really quite fascinating.
When he finally struggled his way to full consciousness, he immediately wished he hadn't bothered to make the effort. All it gained him was a splitting headache, a sore chest and a general sense of having been laid out on a slab for years. He wondered if some enterprising student had dosed him with Mummy Juice and whether he ought to kill the little bastard or award him points for managing to brew the damned stuff correctly. Something itched behind his eyes...dose...brew...it was hard to think with his blood thumping through his skull like a hod of bricks rolling down a flight of stairs.
"Ungh?" he asked the Universe.
"Severus? Are you awake?" He was spared the necessity of answering when a cold glass tube was slipped into his mouth. He automatically began sucking and was rewarded with silky, cool water pouring down his parched throat. He blissfully swallowed again and again, feeling life pouring back into him with each mouthful. So, of course, it was immediately taken away.
His eyes snapped open and he blinked several times to clear his vision. But there was obviously still something wrong, because Sirius Black was sitting beside his bed, holding a half-full glass of water with a straw in it. The close view made no sense at all, so Snape tried focusing on the middle distance.
Beyond Black was a bed with Harry Potter lying in it, laid out like a knight on a bier. But not Harry Potter as he had last seen him, waxen and trembling, hollowed cheeks raspy with a beard he didn't dare charm away and stained with tears of pain. This vision of Potter showed him golden skinned, with warm blood flowing clean and pure beneath smooth young cheeks, his lips in a peaceful curve. Even as he watched, Potter took a deep breath and curled onto his side. One hand stole up under his cheek and a soft snore began to buzz from the sleeping man.
Brows knitting with suspicion of his own madness, Snape looked beyond to see Dumbledore sitting beside the sleeping Potter, calmly eating gumdrops and reading a copy of the Daily Prophet. The bright blue eyes flicked up to meet Snape's and a fond smile curved the bearded lips as the Headmaster simply looked at him but said nothing.
Finally, he couldn't stand it. "What happened?"
"You did it, Snape!" Black's voice seemed to echo unpleasantly in time with his throbbing skull. "It worked."
"Of course, it did, Black. I told you all that it would." It felt good to have someone to snarl at.
"Ha! You said you thought it might."
Snape winced at the volume, but managed a creditable sneer. "I told you idiots that I wasn't going to let him die." He coughed once and it felt as though his lungs had torn loose. "Now give me the water before I hurt you."
There was a disdainful snort, then Black's careful hand helping him to sit up, then guiding the straw to his mouth and letting him drink again. "You and what army, Snape?"
"Boys, as much as I'm enjoying this little trip through Memory Lane, perhaps you could keep the volume down so that Harry can sleep?" The Headmaster's voice was genial but there was a hint of steel in it.
"Too late," Potter yawned, then stretched and opened his eyes. When he saw Snape awake and sitting up, those green eyes lit up and a huge grin split his face. "Well, Severus, you look like ..." words appeared to fail him.
" ... like a troll sat on me?"
"Almost exactly," Potter nodded sagely.
"That'll cost you 10 points for insolence, Mr. Potter," Snape growled.
Harry Potter shrugged cheerfully. "It's Christmas Eve, make it 20."
Snape was struggling to find a suitably quashing reply when his brain caught up with the math. "How long have I been asleep?!"
"Three days," Dumbledore said, getting up and folding his paper. "You had us quite worried, Severus."
"... the poison?" he wondered aloud, remembering being vaguely concerned about residue on his fingertips and eating while brewing.
"No, you stupid git. You had a heart attack and nearly died on the damned floor." Oddly enough, that was Potter, sounding surprisingly like his godfather in a temper.
"Oh," he said faintly.