Updates: I caved in, deleted three uses of the f-word, and made this story a PG-13. Now more people can read it.

Up From the Dust

By K. Cloak

Chapter 2: The Potions Master and the Mediwitch

"Merlin's balls!" cried Poppy Pomfrey as she took in the sight in front of her. Albus Dumbledore, looking not at all like his usual cheery self, had just stormed into the hospital wing, levitating a bloody Severus Snape after him. The unconscious man's long black hair was matted with blood, and his face was chalk white.

"Don't just stand there! Do something!" shouted Albus. Poppy was more than a little surprised at his frantic attitude, but she simply nodded quickly and set out to do what she could for Snape.

She waved her wand over Snape's still form. As she did so, an aura appeared around him. For the majority of his body, the light was a faint blue, but around his head it became a halo of angry, pulsating red, flecked with black and orange. As she examined the results of her scan, Dumbledore gave a quick account of what he had just seen.

"He has a concussion and a broken skull, as well as moderate blood loss… although I presume from the lack of a surface wound that you've already seen to that part. I can heal the break, but…"

"You'll have to wait until he reawakens to see if he has brain damage," finished Dumbledore monotonously.

"Yes. I'm sorry Albus, but there really isn't much more I can do. No matter how advanced our magic is, we still know little more about the human brain than Muggles do. In fact, we may actually know less, considering the amount of time we devote to science." Poppy pointed her wand at Severus's head and murmured a bone-healing charm. Now that he was out of immediate danger, Madam Pomfrey carefully levitated him onto a bed and covered him to the chin with a blanket. The charm would take several hours to take effect on the deeper tissues, but it effectively held healing bones together, allowing Pomfrey to place Severus on his back.

Poppy turned to the Headmaster. "Albus," she said quietly. "Why do you look so stricken? Surely he will be all right, even if he was attacked by a Death Eater."

"She shouldn't have gotten in, Poppy. You know that the protective magic on Hogwarts should have detected her as soon as she set foot on the grounds. I have a very bad feeling about this, Poppy. I'm going to go consult my Pensieve… perhaps I will find the answer in my memories."

Poppy watched as Albus left, certainly looking his age. It wasn't every day that someone so obviously evil got through Hogwarts' defenses. Only students and staff, as well as the immediate family of the staff, could easily get through the wards of Hogwarts. Others had to be granted special permission. As for those with a Dark Mark, the wards on Hogwarts had been recently strengthened to violently repel any Death Eater who attempted to enter. Poppy knew, as few others did, just how many spells had had to be used on Severus Snape afterwards in order to keep him in the castle without having him strangled, sickened, immobilized, or simply levitated out.

Well, enough brooding, thought Poppy as she turned back to Severus. Although she knew that Albus had likely seen Severus in much worse shape than he was right now, she hadn't really felt right about doing what she was about to with Albus around. Now that he was gone… it was time to see to her colleague.

Moving up to the unconscious Potions Master, she carefully levitated his body several inches from the bed he was lying in and removed the blanket.

He really was a mess from what couldn't have been too long of a fight. Although he was physically intact, he looked like the life had been sucked out of him. After drawing a curtain closed around them, she gently removed Severus' outer robes, which were wrinkled and bloody. Next, she took off his red-stained undershirt and the plain trousers he wore underneath.

Poppy gasped as she took in his barely-clothed body. It was true that Severus had always been a thin man; she had seen him injured enough times in the last two and a half years to know that. She shuddered at the memory of his return shortly after the Triwizard Tournament: he had been brought nearly to the brink of death. But all through that night, as he had gasped and struggled to breathe and tried in vain to still the shaking that came after a long dose of the Cruciatus… all night he had muttered words of triumph under his breath.

Now, he simply looked wrung out. He was too thin; his ribs and the hollow in the center of his chest were all too visible.

With a washcloth, Poppy carefully mopped the rusty stains from his upper body, neck and face. She then did her best to blot the blood out of his hair: the washcloth, which had been charmed to remain both clean and damp, was very helpful in that task. With a faint smile, Poppy considered getting a house-elf to give his hair a good wash, but decided that Severus would take it as an insult. Satisfied with her work and allowing her colleagues greasy hair to remain the way it was, she lowered him back to the bed and covered him again. One of the house-elves would get his clothing in a while.

- - - -

Slightly more than an hour later, Severus Snape woke to the feeling of a House Elf beating a cadence on the back of his skull. At least, that's what it felt like.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, lifting a hand to the back of his head.

"Severus! You're awake! Albus will be thrilled!" Opening his eyes, Severus took in the sight of Madam Pomfrey rushing towards him, a ridiculous smile on her face.

"Is she gone?" he whispered. Searching her face, he silently dared Poppy to lie about anything.

"The woman who attacked the school?"

"No, Poppy, the ghost of my great-grandmother, who just decided to come visit."

Poppy ignored Severus's comment and answered his question. "The woman who attacked the school is gone, Severus. She fled the castle with some sort of intangibility charm, right after-"

"Yes, yes, woman. Right after nearly killing me." Severus's sour mood, as usual, had returned along with his consciousness. "I don't really care that much about what she does to me, as long as the students are safe. Are they?"

"Yes, all of them."

"Then I'm going back to my rooms." With that, Severus pushed himself up and onto his feet in one graceful movement.

It was with considerably less grace that he immediately crumpled onto the floor. With what was left of his consciousness he berated himself for the indignity not only of falling to the floor in a graceless heap, but also of not noticing beforehand that he was clad only in boxer shorts. Then that small bit of consciousness was gone as well.

- - - -

Severus Snape stood outside the door of the single bathroom in the small house he shared with his wife, Juliette. Nearly every morning he ended up here, hesitating in front of the bathroom door, visions of simply running away dancing in his head. Severus had just turned twenty, and had been married to a fellow Death Eater for a year and a half.

Sometimes Severus thought that eighteen months of torture would have been preferable.

He dreaded mornings with his wife. Although she never once touched him as she slept beside him, Juliette expected Severus to behave in all other ways as a husband would. This included walking though that bathroom door, stripping naked, and entering the shower where she would undoubtedly be waiting for him. A part of Severus Snape's wife was rather psychotic, and the part that wasn't was simply evil.

His mind was twisted in worry, as usual. It was usually full of worry at being caught as a spy of Dumbledore's, worry at losing his life, and most of all worry that he had already lost his soul; however, when his wife was around his mind found other things to dwell on.

He knew the longer he stood outside the bathroom, the angrier she would be when he finally went in. He shuddered and brushed the right side of his face, where she had punched him last week after he refused to behave as she wanted. On the other hand, if he went in, he would have to go through the humiliation of being seen naked by someone who obviously didn't care for him or his body. The verbal abuse his wife heaped on him was just an added bonus. He had no option that was the least bit pleasant.

Although one and a half long, hellish years ago, he had stood before hundreds of society's most prominent witches and wizards and proclaimed his everlasting devotion to the woman who was now his wife, Severus knew he did not love her. Such is the fate of a man married to a higher-ranking Death Eater.

He sighed and, knowing that Juliette would only get nastier as time progressed, Severus strode into the bathroom.

"Where have you been? Are you too stupid to find your own clothing?" It was truly amazing how this beautiful woman could speak with such malice in her voice. He was managing to develop a similar venomous tone to go with his innate sarcasm and surliness, but Juliette could still manage to be nastier on many occasions. Hairbrush in hand, Juliette stood before the mirror.

"I–"

"Shut up," she said, giving Severus a quick smack to the back of the head. "I don't care what you have to say. Now take your clothes off like a proper husband." She had finished brushing her hair, which was charmed dark brown, and had removed her robes, revealing a pale, demure body clothed in black lace underthings. She removed these as well and stepped into a spray of water that Severus knew was too hot for him.

"Get in." It was an order. Severus stood still, wondering why he didn't save his skin and just strip. Juliette pulled the shower curtain aside and glared at Severus.

"Look, I know it's small, and that you are an ugly, scrawny man, so just get out of those robes and in here before I crack you over the head!"

There was no flexibility in that glare. Severus quickly shed his clothing and stepped into the shower, careful not to brush against his ice queen of a wife in doing so.

He immediately got what he suspected was coming: Juliette slapped him hard, clipping his left ear in the process. Severus nearly lost his balance and grabbed at the wall for support. He didn't dare do anything to Juliette; she was, after all, one of Voldemort's favorite Death Eaters.

In great haste Severus soaped himself up, washed his hair and got out of the shower. He sometimes mused that if he ever got away from all of this mess he would never again want to step into a shower for all of the humiliating and painful memories it brought him. The thought of Juliette turned him off from bathing whenever she was around, and the six months since he had become a spy for Albus Dumbledore had done nothing to erase the memories of the breakdown he had suffered within the same small space. It also didn't help that suicide by drowning tended to run in his family.

Severus quickly dressed and glanced at his reflection in the mirror. In a different life he may have been a vain man, using glamour after glamour to make himself as beautiful as possible, such as Juliette did. Nonetheless, he supposed he hadn't started life as such a bad looking guy: sure, his nose was a bit on the large side, but he rather liked his pale complexion and long black hair. Of course the bruises did detract from his appearance; his left ear was turning a shade of purple that promised to last all day under whatever concealing spell he cast over it, and having his nose broken a year back had just made it larger. Some days, he truly hated his wife, others, he simply wondered how she could lack even the smallest shred of love in her cold, cold heart. He comforted himself with the knowledge that, at very least, he would be free from his house in a matter of minutes, when he would Apparate to work at the potions shop in Diagon Alley and Juliette would leave for her perfectly legitimate job at the Ministry. It was after hours that he would see her again, and then it would be from behind a mask.

"The Dark Lord is going to summon us and our brethren tonight at moonrise. Bring your poisons with you… the slow ones." Her voice shook him out of his introspection and he allowed himself a sneer in her direction.

"You always have advance notice, don't you. Sometimes I think the reason you won't screw me, Juliette, is because you have the naiveté to think that you're saving yourself for Voldemort. As if he would ever associate himself with someone like you. You're so frigid it would be like sleeping with an ice statue." He laughed mirthlessly at her because he knew he was right: his wife was a virgin and spoke the Dark Lord's name in her sleep.

She instantly slapped him again, this time with her left hand. Severus didn't even look at her.

"How dare you! May I remind you that I've been a Death Eater for considerably longer than you and could get rid of you at any time, if it weren't for the fact that I need our marriage as a cover. I am one of Voldemort's best assassins; you are just a little boy with a cauldron."

"At least I'm not a delusional, sexually confused psychopath like you."

Those turned out to be the last words he would say for quite some time, for at his remark Juliette pushed him viciously. He tripped and with a thud his head hit the edge of the bathtub. Juliette summoned her work robes, dressed herself, and braided her hair as blood pooled around the half-conscious man's head.

Just before leaving, as she stepped over Severus's still form, she pointed her wand at him and muttered a charm to stop the bleeding. Thereby assured that he wouldn't die, she walked out of the room and shut the door.

- - - -

Severus Snape woke from a half-remembered dream late at night on October fifth. For a brief, disoriented moment, he thought that it was 1980, and that he was in a Muggle hospital… that he had smashed his head on a bathtub.

Then the events of the previous day returned to him. He wasn't twenty years old anymore, he wasn't in a Muggle hospital… and his wife was most certainly dead. He thought.

While he had felt all right when he had previously been conscious, he certainly did not feel that way now. His head ached all the way down to his teeth and his back was sore, probably from hitting the wall at thirty miles per hour. Remembering the circumstances in which he had left the land of the living, he groaned in embarrassment. Of all things, fainting in front of Poppy Pomfrey! He would never, ever live this down.

Trying to lift his head in the dimmed light, he found that it would not move from the surface of the bed. Upon attempting to move his legs and arms and finding them immobile as well, he came to the conclusion that he had been tied down, and quite thoroughly.

"Well, it looks like Sleeping Beauty has finally awakened. I swear, I wasn't the one to kiss you." Madam Pomfrey's usually sweet voice was tense with worry and no small amount of annoyance.

"Did you have to strap my head down as well, Poppy?" he asked. Severus had meant for his comment to come out in his usual condescending tone, instead he merely sounded exhausted and pathetic.

"Yes, I did, after the stupid stunt you pulled yesterday. Honestly, I would have expected you to be a little more intelligent, Severus."

"Yesterday?"

"Yes, Severus, yesterday. Albus has been worried sick about you! Did you know there were rumors going around the school that you were dead? Professor Flitwick's been working all day to fortify the wards around the castle, the entire student body's been ordered to stay inside, and the front page of the Daily Prophet is sporting a picture of the Dark Mark in the Great Hall and a headline that says 'Dark forces infiltrate Hogwarts.' You've missed a lot because you just had to get up and make your concussion worse!"

"I- I'm sorry Poppy, I should have thought ahead. I was just…" Severus was at a loss for words. It wasn't the fact that he had been lectured by the mediwitch, for almost every patient of Poppy's received a lecture at some point. It was simply that the gravity of the situation was sinking in.

His wife - his dead wife - was alive and well.

She had tried and damn nearly succeeded in simply walking Harry Potter out of Hogwarts and bringing him directly to the Dark Lord.

Oh, dear merciful gods. He had just completely blown his cover. For the past two and a half years, Voldemort had been under the impression that his loyal interrogator and Potions Master was also allowing Death Eater parents into and out of the castle, keeping the wards off of them, and keeping their identities a secret from the rest of the staff. That Severus would not in any way have stopped Juliette from leaving. A truly loyal Death Eater would have given his life if it meant allowing Voldemort to get his hands on the Potter boy.

For a moment, Severus thought he was going to faint again.

Madam Pomfrey must have noticed his distress because she quickly waved away the cords that bound him and sat in the chair beside his bed.

"What is it, Severus?"

Severus closed his eyes. "I've just signed my death warrant, Poppy. I'm as good as a walking corpse." He was so upset that he forgot to be sarcastic.

Poppy Pomfrey had always had a tacit agreement with Severus Snape: that she, knowing of the Dark Mark on his arm, would not ask about his affiliations with Voldemort and that he, Severus, would not stay away from the hospital wing in order to hide it. Dumbledore had assured her privately that Severus was a good man, and until now, she had had no reason to ever question him about his past.

Now, she had a reason, and a bad feeling about the answer.

"Severus, you know that I know about the mark on your arm… that you help us out in the fight against You-Know-Who. What just happened?"

It must have been either the concussion, blood loss or potions that made him talk, for far in contrast to his usual private self, Severus actually told her. The slightly commandeering mediwitch had been the closest thing, besides the Headmaster, to a confidant that he had ever had, and he supposed he owed her an explanation. After all, in sixteen years, she had never asked more about his past than was necessary to treat his various spell-related injuries.

Severus sighed. "It's a long story, Poppy."

"I don't have any other patients."

Severus hesitated, then began to speak. "I'm a Death Eater… I'm sure you know that. I joined right after I graduated," he said wearily. "I was seventeen years old when I was initiated, right out of Hogwarts… and very stupid.

"Those were dark days - I'm sure you remember. The Dark Lord and the Death Eaters were at the height of their power, and the Ministry, while under constant attack by them- by us- had heightened its surveillance of any witch or wizard who looked the least bit suspicious. Juliette… she was one of the only female Death Eaters besides Bellatrix Lestrange, but even at the first meeting I attended I knew she was…different. The Dark Lord, he seemed to favor her, like she was kin or something. When we would Apparate to wherever the Dark Lord wanted us, she would always be there already. I… I worked for the Death Eaters as a potions brewer, usually, researching newer and less detectible poisons… ways to make people stronger… ways to make people talk…"

He stopped and lifted his hands to his face, tormented by the memory of what his poisons and interrogations had done to their victims. Eyes closed, he continued. "About a year after I joined the Death Eaters, Juliette did something wrong. She worked within the Ministry herself, and she had been caught with some classified information. A week later, several people from the Ministry were murdered, brutally. I suppose she interrogated them and killed them afterwards: I wasn't present at that particular event. She found out that the Ministry was initiating an investigation into her activities outside of work. It really wouldn't have been a problem if she's wanted to quit her job, but she was a valuable source of information. The Dark Lord came up with the solution to her problem.

"I still remember the day when I was summoned… only to find that I was the only one there besides him… and her." He gave half of a sarcastic smile. "I thought he was going to kill me at first. But instead, he said that we were to announce our engagement the next day at the annual Ministry ball."

Poppy nodded: she vaguely remembered the event, as she had been doing research for the Ministry at the time.

Severus continued. "I don't really know why I was chosen for the… task… of marrying her. I suppose I was chosen to be her husband simply because I was around her age, and I was already somewhat well-known by then as a potion-maker. I'd been licensed as a first-order Potions Master a few months before, maybe you remember that the Daily Prophet did a very brief back-page article on me that week." Poppy nodded again, although she didn't remember it at all.

I was the youngest person in a long while to attain first order in such a short time, and I suppose Voldemort thought that I would be a good candidate, as I was generally looked up to, if not liked. I married Juliette in a large public ceremony which I've since tried to forget, and we lived together in a small house on the outskirts of London. We kept up the impression of a doting, loving, and dedicated couple." He snorted. "And it worked. The ministry, being filled with sentimental fools, stopped their investigations after a while, and we settled into a life as a… couple." The revulsion in his tone as he said the word was unmistakable. He looked as if he had just swallowed something vile, and it wasn't one of Poppy's potions.

"Juliette never loved me, or even liked me, for that matter. At first, she was simply cold to me… by our first anniversary, she had become abusive… I never dared to hit her back – she probably could have had me killed without too much trouble." Severus balled his hands into fists, turning angrily to Poppy. "Gods, I was in chains in that house! I hated it, and the worst part was the way she treated me in public, so loving and kind…and she was so beautiful and yet so hard inside-" It was only the years of building self-control that Severus had put behind him that kept the humiliation out of his voice as he remembered how he had felt on his wedding night, the first time she told him flat-out that their marriage was a farce, the first time she had slapped him… He had known, of course, that the marriage was a farce, but he had still held within him a flame of hope that someone had liked him… that she had picked him over the other young Death Eaters because of some personal preference. The bitter disappointment of finding out he was completely unwanted had blown out that flame.

He continued in an angrier voice. "She hurt me, Poppy… she broke bones in my face, gave me black eyes… and every day I would use glamours to cover my marks and I would go off to work. My co-workers were none the wiser. Idiots. If I had been someone they liked, they would have noticed… At night, when we were summoned, the Dark Lord would laugh at my injuries and tell Juliette that her heart was as black as his. He made it sound like praise."

Poppy continued to sit in silence as Severus have a short, humorless laugh.

"And you know what's the ironic thing, Poppy? I was still loyal. I was as just as bad as she was. Not even all of that misery could knock the stupidity out of me! No, it took even more than that to change my mind. I remember that day like it was yesterday… the horror of it all… She brought a man home with her, a fellow from the Ministry. He had been in my class at Hogwarts, a Slytherin like me… I knew him, Poppy…" Severus closed his eyes again and trailed off, remaining silent long enough that Poppy began to think he'd fallen asleep.

"Severus?" she asked gently. The frown line between Severus's eyes deepened, and he continued in an almost choked voice.

"She brought him down into the basement and disarmed him, tied him down. I was called down to make a potion for her… a poison that can only be made with the victim's blood. We forced him to drink it. He talked, and afterward… she took the vial of antidote from me and instead of giving it to him, she shattered it on the floor. We watched, we waited… and he died, Poppy. We watched him die like it was entertaining. Once he was dead, she used a Portkey she had enchanted at work – a pebble – and sent his body back to the Ministry. I've never forgotten the look of betrayal on his face as that vial hit the floor."

Severus's voice cracked as he said the last sentence and Poppy realized with some amazement that Severus was truly upset. She could not imagine what it must have been like to see a fellow student, perhaps an old friend, die by one's own hand. Poppy put her hand on his as he continued, and surprisingly, he did not pull his away.

"The next day I didn't go to work. I took a pretty strong poison and… pretended to be ill. After she left, I took the antidote and Apparated to Hogsmeade. I went to the school and found Dumbledore, and I told him everything. I thought he was going to send me straight to Azkaban… I wouldn't have cared. I didn't have a happy thought in my mind for the Dementors to suck from me. And he did something I never expected: he gave me a second chance. He made me a spy… a double agent. And then a little over a year later, Harry Potter refused to die and the Dark Lord vanished without a trace.

I got home late that night… it was actually a little before dawn… and found my wife on the floor, dead. Just like that, dead. I took her to a Muggle coroner, bewitched him into telling me what had happened to her. The autopsy showed that she died of a massive, sudden brain hemorrhage… the coroner said that when he cut her open he couldn't even see her brain through all the blood. She was buried on the same day as Lily and James Potter: I actually went to their funeral, but not hers.

"It was such a strange day, Poppy, I'm sure you remember it, for the world was mourning for the dead and at the same time joyous at the knowledge that the Dark Lord was gone. I can't say that Juliette's death upset me. I took off my wedding ring and never put it back on. The next week, Albus Dumbledore offered me the position of Potions Professor here at Hogwarts, set up to start in '82."

Having finished the worst of his tale, Severus seemed to abruptly snap back into reality. He quickly pulled his hand out from under Poppy's and folded his arms over his chest.

"I had hoped against hope that the Dark Lord was really gone, but the year that wretched Potter boy came here, I found out that Quirrell was following orders from a Dark wizard… and two and a half years ago, as you know, I became a spy again. And now I've been exposed. I don't know how, but my wife, the Dark Lord's favorite Death Eater, is alive again. She was the one who came here yesterday, and I'm sure she was relying on me to stay silent and let her leave quietly with Potter. I'm a dead man, Poppy. By now the Dark Lord knows what I am. He'll be plotting my death by morning."

- - - -

Thanks:

1) Silverthreads and Suzuki-chan, for reviewing

2) whoever invented the phrase "Merlin's balls!" It's great!