Chapter 21

Mortal Peril

'Injured?' Harry repeated.

'He has been taken to St Mungo's,' Dumbledore went on. 'I am going there myself shortly. Do you want to come with me?'

'Yes,' said Harry immediately. So it was just as he had feared. And what a question, of course he wanted to come!

Dumbledore nodded. 'Very well. We shall leave as soon as I get the all-clear signal. No one can know that you're coming with me, however, so please fetch your Invisibility Cloak, and don't tell anyone where you're going ... except Miss Granger and Mr Weasley if you feel you must.'

'Yes, sir,' said Harry, and rushed to the door. But then he turned back quickly. 'Professor? Is it very serious?'

Dumbledore surveyed Harry, his clear blue eyes grave and unsmiling. 'I'm not going to lie to you, Harry: yes, it is.'

Harry didn't wait to see if Dumbledore intended to elaborate on this; he ran out of the office back to his dormitory as fast as he could, not bothering even to stop in the common room to explain to his friends what was going on. His hands were shaking as he pulled the Invisibility Cloak out of his trunk; he stuffed it under his robes and ran down the stairs again. Hermione, Neville and Ron were waiting for him at the foot of the stairs, inquisitive expressions on their faces.

'He's injured,' Harry panted. 'I'm going with Dumbledore to St Mungo's. Don't tell anyone where I am.' He rushed towards the portrait hole; as he climbed through it he heard Hermione calling 'Good luck, Harry!' after him.

When he came back to the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore was talking to the picture again; Harry recognised one of the former Headmistresses on the wall – Dilys Derwent – who had used her painting in St Mungo's to inform Dumbledore about Mr Weasley last year.

'Yes, you can go now,' Dilys was saying just as Harry burst through the door.

Harry shot a quick glance at the painting of Phineas Nigellus. He wasn't leaning casually against its frame now, nor was he admiring his gloves. He had a look of deep concern on his face.

'Thank you, Dilys.' Dumbledore turned to Harry. 'Please put on your cloak immediately, Harry. We will be travelling by Floo Powder. When we get there, keep your cloak on and follow me.'

Harry nodded and followed Dumbledore to the fireplace. Dumbledore took some green powder from a jar and stepped into the fire. 'St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries,' he said. When he was gone, Harry stepped into the fireplace after him and followed the same procedure, taking care to say the name of the hospital loudly and clearly. He noticed that he didn't get his mouth full of ash now that he had his Invisibility Cloak on.

When he arrived he fell out of the fireplace, and got worried for a second that someone might have seen his foot, quickly hiding it again under the cloak, but Dumbledore was standing right in front of him, blocking him from view. Dumbledore started walking through the crowded reception area, and Harry did his best to follow him as quietly as he could.

They walked up a flight of stairs and entered a corridor that seemed familiar to Harry; it was the Creature-Induced Injuries corridor, which Harry recognised from last year. Had Snape been bitten by something? By Nagini perhaps? They didn't enter the 'Dangerous' Dai Llewellyn Ward where Mr Weasley had been treated for his bite, however, but walked on down the corridor until they reached a sculpture of a very sinister-looking wizard dressed in strange clothes.

Dumbledore looked to both sides of the corridor – there was no one to be seen – before he said to the statue, 'All quiet?'

A reply came from somewhere beside the statue. 'Yes. Healer Smethwyck's in there.' Harry recognised the voice, and thought that it might be Hestia Jones under Moody's Invisibility Cloak, but wasn't entirely sure.

'Good,' Dumbledore said, then muttered something Harry couldn't hear. The statue moved aside, revealing a narrow doorway. Dumbledore walked through it, and Harry followed.

They came into a small, dark chamber with only one bed. Someone was bending over it. Harry wanted to throw off his cloak and run over to the bed, but he didn't dare without Dumbledore's permission.

'How is he, Hippocrates?' Dumbledore said gravely.

The Healer straightened up and turned to face them, still, however, blocking the view of the bed. 'It is very serious,' he said. 'I wish you would let somebody from Spell Damage take a look at him, Professor Dumbledore. I'm not qualified for this kind of injury.'

'You're the only one we can trust, Hippocrates,' said Dumbledore. 'It is imperative that no one find out he is here. We have reason to believe that Voldemort has spies here at St Mungo's.'

Healer Smethwyck flinched at the mention of Voldemort's name, then said, 'Well, I can't guarantee anything. I'll do my best, of course, but he is gravely injured and should be receiving expert care.'

'I am perfectly aware of your capabilities and their limitations,' Dumbledore said calmly, 'and I am convinced that you will succeed in curing him.' He turned to Harry. 'You may take off your cloak now. Hippocrates, this is Harry. He will be staying here with me. Harry, this is Healer Smethwyck.'

Harry took off his cloak and Healer Smethwyck looked curiously at him. 'Very well. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go and see to my other patients.' He walked past Harry and Dumbledore, but Dumbledore was still blocking Harry's view of the bed. Only when Healer Smethwyck had left, and the statue had moved back into position, did Dumbledore move aside.

Harry rushed forward to the bed. Snape was lying on it, looking so much like Harry's Boggart had looked, that it made Harry gasp in horror again. His eyes were closed, and there was no blood trickling out of his mouth, but he was deadly pale and immobile. His breathing was shallow and uneven.

Dumbledore came to stand next to Harry, bending over Snape and peering closely at his face. Then he picked up one of his pale, limp hands, examining it closely too. Harry had no idea what he was doing.

'What's happened to him?' he said breathlessly.

'He has been cursed,' said Dumbledore, looking at the hand apprehensively.

'Is he ...' Harry swallowed. 'Is he going to survive?'

Dumbledore didn't answer, but kept looking at Snape's hand. Then, slowly and carefully, he put it back on the sheet and turned to face Harry. 'Professor Snape has had to face more serious curses than this, Harry,' he said slowly. 'But ... he is still in mortal peril.'

Harry noticed that his knees were shaking, and he looked around for something to sit on. Dumbledore conjured up two comfortable reclining chairs.

'We might be here for quite some time,' he said as Harry sat down 'There is nothing we can do but wait.'

The hours went by, and Harry and Dumbledore sat in their chairs, waiting, watching. From time to time, Healer Smethwyck came into the room to give Snape a potion, or to perform some strange, complicated charm on him, but the rest of the time the room lay in complete silence.

For the first time, Harry felt he had a real grasp of what the Weasleys must have been feeling that night in Grimmauld Place, when they sat together with him and Sirius, waiting for news about their father, not knowing whether he was going to survive.

Harry couldn't imagine that only a few months ago, he hadn't even wanted to acknowledge Snape as his father; he had felt he would rather have a dead James Potter than a living Severus Snape for a parent. What a fool he had been! Only faintly surprised, he realised that James Potter had faded to a very dim image in his mind; he had become someone Harry rarely thought of – if ever.

Harry realised that he had not only grown accustomed to the thought of Snape being his dad, but he had come to rely on Snape being there for him, even if it was only in the background. He had come to rely on the fact that, if he wanted to, he could always talk to Snape, in a way he could never talk to Dumbledore or anyone else. That was why he had told Snape about his dream, rather than McGonagall or Dumbledore – because when all was said and done, Snape was his father. It was of little importance to Harry now that he had been a Death Eater, that he had deceived his mother, that he had bullied Harry and his fellow students – he was his father, and nothing could change that. And besides, Snape had changed remarkably only since last year, no matter what Ginny or anyone else thought.

Harry realised that so far, Snape had been the only one to make an effort to build some kind of relationship between the two of them – he had changed his behavoiur towards Harry in class, even though this had been a considerable risk so far as the Slytherins were concernced; he had given Harry his chess set as a peace offering; he had started calling him by his first name and told Harry he could choose whatever he wanted to call him. So far, Harry had offered him nothing in return, except for a confidence about the dream. He hadn't even thanked him properly for the chess set. If only Snape was all right, Harry vowed that this would change.

Harry didn't know how long they sat there in silence, listening to Snape's uneven breathing, but he guessed that it must already be night when Dumbledore finally spoke again.

'Would you care for a sherbet lemon, Harry?' he said.

'What?' said Harry, startled.

'Or perhaps you'd like something more substantial to eat,' Dumbledore added as an afterthought.

'No,' said Harry. 'No, thanks, I don't feel like eating.' He had hardly eaten anything the whole day, but he still didn't feel hungry.

Dumbledore took a golden watch from his pocket and looked at it, then went to the door. Harry heard him whisper something to the person on guard outside, and then he came back and sat down. After about ten minutes someone entered the room quietly, but it turned out not to be Healer Smethwyck.

'How is he?' It was Mrs Weasley's voice. Harry looked up at her, and she gave him a concerned look.

'The same I'm afraid,' said Dumbledore. 'Would you be so kind as to take Harry up to the Tearoom, Molly. He needs to eat something.'

'I'm fine,' said Harry. 'I want to stay here.'

'Please go with Mrs Weasley, Harry,' Dumbledore said calmly. 'There's no telling how long we might be here – you must eat something. I promise I'll send for you if there is any change.'

Mrs Weasley put her hands on Harry's shoulders, and he didn't resist as she gently led him out of the room, first giving him his Invisibility Cloak. Harry was feeling faint as the walked along the corridor and realised that he did, indeed, need something to eat.

The Tearoom was rather empty since it was late at night, and Mrs Weasley bought Harry some sandwiches and a cup of tea, all of which she handed him under the Invisibility Cloak. They weren't able to talk, but Harry didn't mind; he really didn't feel like talking to anyone but preferred to sit and eat in silence.

When Harry had almost finished eating, a middle-aged witch with shoulder-length, mousy brown hair and paisley robes entered the Tearoom. She came over to their table and sat down, almost knocking over their empty teacups with her pink handbag.

'Wotcher, Molly,' she said, then lowered her voice. 'Is Harry here?'

Mrs Weasley nodded.

'You're to go downstairs,' Tonks said to the empty space on the other side of Mrs Weasley, not knowing where Harry was. 'Dumbledore wants you.'

Harry couldn't get up fast enough, and ran down the stairs at such a speed that he almost bumped into a frail-looking wizard who was on his way up. Just before he reached the statue in the Creature Induced Injuries corridor, he ran into something big and almost fell over. It had to be the guard.

'Phew, take it easy,' said Kingsley Shacklebolt's deep voice.

'It's me, Harry,' he hissed, 'I need to get in!'

'There you go,' said Shacklebolt, muttering the password.

Harry went inside and saw Dumbledore facing him from the other side of the bed, leaning over Snape who was still lying there as pale as ever. What if he was dying? Or was he already dead?

But as Harry was thinking this, Snape stirred for the first time since they had got there. Then he opened his eyes.

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews, Queen-of-Gondor, GoddessMoonLady, Lady Lily3, Climhazzard, ironic-humour, Volleypickle16, lillinfields, aikidobrat, leggylover03, Anna Taure, risi, americanpie, RandiWeasley, SammyBlack80, silent as a shadow, Chibidaima, Ebony Potter, sumthynspecial, George's Brother Fred, Hakkai – Gojyo – Goku – Sanzo, Arica, Princess of Rivendell, l'Ciel, HecateDeMort and Sierra!

ironic-humour: Yes, this whole incident has made Harry think about his relation to Snape, so in that sense it is a turning point. And if Snape survives, he will probably think things over as well.

risi & silent as a shadow: I wonder what Snape's boggart would be too, not in this fic but in the books ... Gaaah, can't wait to find out! But I'm afraid JKR will never tell us what it is. Anyway, I thought it would be likely that Harry's Boggart would change under the circumstances.

Ebony Potter: I didn't realise that there were such an enormous amount of fics called Changes when I first posted this ... It's my first fic and I didn't think of checking before I chose the name. But now it almost seems like the proper thing to do: calling your Severitus fic Changes, so if I ever write another one, I might just call it Changes II or Other Changes or something like that ... just to keep up the tradition. I've got one planned, actually. And the first chapter written.

George's Brother Fred & Hakkai – Gojyo – Goku – Sanzo and all those of you who are wondering: You'll find out more about Snape's injuries soon – to a certain extent, at least.

Arica, Princess of Rivendell: Thanks for your praise, I'm flattered!

Sierra: You haven't missed chapter 15 of After the Defeat, have you?