Updated: Sunday 13 February 2005
Disclaimer: See Chapter One
Black Light
By Dante Lewis
Chapter Twenty Five: Prognosis
Barely half an hour later, two fraught looking men sat at opposite sides of the room outside the infirmary waiting for news. As soon as the harried nurse had opened the door, the darker of the two men was on his feet and assaulting her with a barrage of questions.
"How is she? Is she going to be alright? Was she bitten?" Severus asked gruffly, casting the ashen-faced form of Remus Lupin an accusatory glare.
Madame Pomfrey, in turn, looked between the two men nervously and cleared her throat. "In answer to your immediate fears," she started, looking directly at the distraught werewolf. "I see no traces of a werewolf bite anywhere on Estella's body. From what little Mr Lupin could describe to me when he brought Miss Black in, it appears young Estella's book bag bore the brunt of the attempted attack."
Severus cast a murderous look at Remus. "You attacked her!" He said in a dangerously low tone. Remus cast his eyes to the ground shamefully, unable – and unwilling - to redeem himself from Severus' wrath. Anything the man had to say to him or do was nothing compared to the self-punishing purgatory his conscience was already torturing himself with.
"If I may be so prudent as to intervene, gentlemen," Dumbledore's voice interrupted from the hallway. "I do not find it at all productive to hold Mr Lupin accountable for events he holds no control over."
Severus opened his mouth to protest, but Dumbledore continued, cutting him off and turning to Remus. "In fact, my dear boy, I must confess my own hand in creating the circumstances that directed Miss Black into such mortal peril in the first place."
At this, Severus glared openly at the headmaster, remembering their confrontation the previous day, while Remus looked at the headmaster blankly. "I do apologise, gentleman, for my lapse in judgement. I had to send Hagrid on important Hogwarts business and I am afraid I did not confirm the alternate arrangements for Miss Black's collection." Dumbledore explained humbly. "Severus here was tending to a Potions accident well after classes had finished and the alarm wasn't raised for some time. A dreadful mistake on the part of a interfering old fool, I do hope that all three of you can forgive me."
Remus looked at the Headmaster before him with a bewildered look on his face, shocked at the older wizard's apparent fallibility. Severus, meanwhile, regarded both men with closely guarded contempt. Ignoring the old man's pleas for forgiveness, he turned his attention once again to the nurse in the doorway, raising an eyebrow at her expectantly.
Taking her cue, Madame Pomfrey continued her prognosis. "Like I said, gentleman, no long-term harm done – physically speaking at least." She began. "Asides from a few cuts and bruises which I have healed already, Estella contracted a moderate bout of hypothermia. Had she not had the relative shelter of the tunnel or not been found when she was I'm afraid we might have been too late; but as it stands the child has responded well to treatment and should awaken soon."
At hearing this, both men visibly relaxed. Estella was out of immediate danger. "What about psychologically?" Remus asked timidly, his voice thick with emotion as she choked back a sob "I, er, don't remember what happened…" His voice trailed off for he didn't wish to admit to Severus how much fear he could smell when he awoke for fear of never being able to see his Goddaughter again.
Madame Pomfrey appraised him knowingly. "There's no question that Estella has endured a traumatic experience. Until Estella tells us what happened I don't think we will fully understand the extent of things, so all I can advise is that you both support her as best you can." Then, looking at Severus, she added cryptically. "Try to keep things as normal as possible, and let Estella guide you. Thankfully she is so young."
Albus nodded his head in agreement. "Children are exceedingly resilient." He said, planting a reassuring hand on Remus' shaking shoulder. "She'll bounce back."
Both men rose to their feet and headed towards the infirmary, but Remus found himself blocked by his opponent. "I will not permit you to see Estella at this time." Severus hissed. "You've done enough already, Lupin."
Remus bowed his head in silent agreement, acknowledging the likelihood of Estella being frightened of his presence upon her return to consciousness. It was merely a selfish desire to ensure the child was safe that drove him to want to see her at that moment at all. He didn't think he would be able to bring himself to face her for quite some time after what he imagined had happened the night before. He knew it was impossible, but he should have been able to fight the wolf for control. He should have been able to protect her.
With trembling shoulders, Remus nodded his assent and took a step away, watching after Severus as he hurried into the room. Seizing her opportunity, the meddlesome nurse grabbed him by the arm gently but firmly and pulled him towards the infirmary, following in Severus' footsteps.
"Not so fast, young man!" She scolded. "You are in need of serious medical attention!"
Remus looked to Dumbledore helplessly only to see the old man smiling at him knowingly and waving at him as he left the room. So, resigning himself to his fate, he let himself be pulled into the infirmary and directed onto a bed not too far away from Estella's by the surprisingly wiry nurse. Collapsing appreciatively onto the clean soft linen of the hospital cot, Remus could barely make out the words of Severus' protest and Madame Pomfrey's staunch defence before the nurse returned to him, pulling the curtains around his bed in the process. It was not long after, that Remus found himself in soft, worn flannelette pyjamas and tucked into bed, a myriad of unidentifiable – but highly effective – potions melting into his body as sleep swept him away.
Meanwhile, a few beds down, Severus Snape kept vigil at his niece's bedside. Rigidly posed in his chair, any stranger passing by the bed would mistake the scene as a teacher watching over one of their students – not an uncle waiting desperately for signs of life in his beloved niece.
Staring down at her small, vulnerable form, Severus' eyes were the only sign that he had any feeling at all; the rest of his face remaining an impassive, stony mask. In his lap, his hands shook slightly as he gripped the edge of the bed so tightly that the already pale skin of his knuckles glowed. His mind was swimming with conflicting emotions and he fought valiantly to clear his mind. Seething anger ran hotly through his veins… both anger at what Lupin had very nearly done, and irritation at Dumbledore's unsolicited oversight. Part of him was even angry at Estella for her juvenile lack of judgement. Then, on the other hand, Severus' body was wracked with the residual aftermath of fear and exhaustion; his stubborn nature unwilling to accept the gratifying flood of relief until his niece was back on her feet.
Severus didn't know how to react. He didn't know if he wanted to yell, scream, cry or laugh at the situation. Part of him wanted to take the reassuring warmth of his niece into his arms and never let go, while the other half wanted to chastise her for her childish error and push her away. He had almost lost Estella last night, and the way his emotions had consumed him was frightening. He had allowed himself to get too close. It made him weak. Severus was undecided as to whether that was a good thing or not.
"Umph…" a moan from the bed before him roused Severus from his thoughts. Turning his attention back to his niece, his heart instinctively leapt at the signs of her awakening from her unconsciousness.
"Estella." He said firmly, "it's time to wake up."
The child groaned and writhed on the bed in protest. "Just five more minutes Uncle Sev, we can floo to school today…" She mumbled.
Severus bit back a smirk, his eyes flashing with the familiar routine. "You're not going to school today." He said softly, waiting.
Estella jerked awake in shock. "Wha?" she cried groggily, her head spinning as she shot up in bed. Blinking the sleep out of her eyes furiously her posture changed as she took in her surroundings.
"Oh." She said softly, her voice barely a whisper, as the events of the previous night flooded back to her consciousness. Falling back onto the pillows heavily, she let out a shaky breath.
"Indeed." Severus said sternly, controlling his baser need to just hold the child in his arms. "Care to enlighten me on why you didn't alert a teacher and use the floo to return home?"
Estella lowered her head, her bottom lip quivering. "I-I-I d-didn't think o-of t-that." She confessed, sinking lower on her pillows in retreat. "I'm s-sorry Uncle S-Sev."
"So you should be." Severus snapped, "do you have any idea how much trouble you caused last night?"
Tears cascaded down her cheeks as Estella began to sob. "I t-thought… I d-didn't mean… it w-was… I-I-I-I-I…" Estella's voice trailed off as she cried more and more inconsolably, her little heart breaking with the thought that her uncle didn't even seem to care that she had almost died – died – the night before.
"Desist that self-pitying racket at once!" Severus said shakily, his resolve crumbling.
"Severus!" The approaching nurse almost shouted, shocked at what she had witnessed. "What in Merlin's name do you think you are doing to the poor child?"
Severus glared at the woman. "What disciplinary methods I choose to use on my niece are none of your concern, woman." He spat coldly, rising from his chair.
"I beg to differ, young man!" Madame Pomfrey cried, pulling him away from Estella's bed to confer with him in private. "Your niece is my patient and you are interfering with her recovery!"
Severus moved to stand menacingly over the woman. "Are you accusing me of not knowing what is best for my niece?"
"The child is clearly in shock, and if you continue with your harsh verbiage she will most definitely develop a severe case of post-traumatic stress disorder and lapse into a coma." Madame Pomfrey explained in dangerously low tones.
Severus paled slightly, but maintained your resolve. "I think, Madame, that you are underestimating the resilience of the Snape line." He said in equally low tones. "My niece would not be so weak as to succumb to such a psychosomatic disorder!"
"With all due respect, Professor, I think you are grossly underestimating the extent of the experience Estella has just endured!" Madame Pomfrey said exasperatedly.
Glaring at her coldly, Severus sneered. "You are forgetting woman, what her father subjected me to in my fifth year!" He snapped, "so don't you dare accuse me of not appreciating the extent of what she has endured!"
"The circumstances were entirely different!" Madame Pomfrey snapped! "You were fifteen, Estella is six years old! The people involved were your childhood adversaries, not a trusted member of your extended family! Now I am afraid I am going to have to ask you to leave and come back when you are no longer in a frame of mind to distress my patients!"
Severus shook his head angrily and turned on his heel, not bothering to gratify the pushy woman with a response. 'Different circumstances indeed!' his mind screamed. When Black and Lupin weren't so much as punished for their foolhardy prank, no one cared that Severus had to go to class every day afterwards and endure their constant, reminding, presence. No one walked on egg shells around him, and yet he survived. He didn't cop out and lapse into a blasted coma; and he would be damned if his niece was so weak as to do so either. Storming out of the infirmary without even casting his distraught niece a second look, Severus found it entirely ironic that fate had seen Black's daughter subjected to the same experience as what the arrogant prankster had imposed upon another. Sneering malevolently as he made his way down to his dungeons – stripping a few unfortunate students of their house points as he went – Severus wondered what Black would think of this newest development.
Back in the infirmary, the motherly old nurse was busying herself calming her youngest patient down; administering a series of calming draughts and healing potions. Once settled high on her pillows, the nurse instructed the child to eat her breakfast and spend the day in bed.
Spooning a mouthful of steaming hot porridge into her mouth gratefully, Estella sighed. "How did I get here?" She asked.
"Why, your godfather found you and brought you in shortly after dawn." Madame Pomfrey replied as she flittered around straightening out Estella's bedclothes. "Right awful state, the pair of you!"
"Remus?" Estella asked, suddenly alert as she ignored the insecurity that tore at her from the hastily drawn conclusion that her Uncle didn't even seem to have looked for her at all. "Where is he? Is he alright?"
Madame Pomfrey looked at the child closely, a calculating look on her face. "Why yes indeed, child." She said. Then, careful not to say anything about his transformation, she added. "He's asleep a few beds down, recovering from a nasty hit to the nose if my memory serves me correctly."
'The trapdoor…' Estella recalled to herself. Then, looking at the nurse shyly, "could you please open the curtains so we can see each other?"
The nurse narrowed her eyes, surprised at the request in light of all that the child had just witnessed, and nodded; opening the curtains with a swish of her wand. Estella, in turn, peered down the length of the infirmary and took in the peacefully resting form of her godfather in the distance with a measure of relief. "Thank you." She said softly, more than just to the nurse before her.
At that, Nurse Pomfrey left Estella to her breakfast to return to her office. No sooner had the witch left, did Remus start thrashing on his bed and moaning. Pushing away her breakfast tray, Estella clambered down off her bed and gingerly tiptoed towards her Godfather's bed. Standing at his bedside, she could now hear the man crying out a name – her name – and see tears streaming down his face.
"Estella! No! Run! Hide!" Remus' body wracked with sobs as his unconscious form was enveloped in a nightmare full of real and imagined recollections. "What have I done? What have I done?" His broken voice cried guiltily as he clawed unseeingly at his sheets.
Alarmed by her Godfather's distress, Estella did the only thing she knew how to do. She crawled into his bed and huddled herself against his shaking body, and holding him as best she could in her small arms; willing away his distress. Finding her own measure of comfort in her Godfather's familiar warmth, Estella dozed off to the rhythm of the man's steadying heartbeat just as the man in question was starting to emerge from his nightmare.
His eyes opening slowly, Remus took a while to find his bearings as the residual tremors of his nightmare faded back into his subconscious; the smell of his Goddaughter's fear still lingering on his nose. Coming to his senses, he was quick to observe that he was still in the infirmary, and that it was still morning.
Sighing inwardly, Remus was not looking forward to the coming days. He couldn't bear to be apart from his beloved Goddaughter, and yet after what had just happened he could hardly blame her if she never wanted to see him again, let alone forgive him for what his inner demon had almost done to her. Silent tears of remorse fell down his cheeks wearily as he could still feel the phantom presence of the small child in his arms. He doubted that he would ever be so privileged as to experience the innocent display of affection and human contact ever again. Making to move his arms to stretch, however, he was startled to realise that the heavy warmth he felt cocooned against his body was not in fact a lucid illusion, but was real. Looking down warily, Remus was stunned to see the peacefully slumbering form of his Goddaughter willingly wrapped in his arms as though nothing had ever come between them.
Sighing as though the weight of the world was just lifted from his shoulders, Remus planted a shaky kiss on the child's forehead, reacquainting his senses with the blissful scent of her clean hair and contentment. Wrapping his arms around her protectively, he squeezed her reassuringly and murmured his appreciation to the gods above for giving him back his life.
"Thank you." He whispered, before falling back into slumber.
End Chapter Twenty Five: Prognosis