Thank you so much for your kind reviews, you are so nice! The answers are to be found below the chapter :)…
There are some things I'd like to emphasise first:
§ This fic is written from Snape's POV exclusively, there will be no changing POVs.
§ I focus mainly on selected adult characters and their social interaction with Snape – a fact that's conditional upon the former point. Snape just doesn't have so much private contact with the children, I'm afraid ;-). The children will show up in the later chapters, but I will not concentrate on them. There have been 5 (well, now it's 6) big and wonderful books written about them anyway already ;-).
§ I apologise for the first chapters – translating them I found them somewhat "clumsy" and full of flaws (actually the entire fic is clumsy and full of flaws, hm). I hope there will be some learning process noticeable throughout this humble fic. It's still my first (longer) one, hehe ;-).
Beta: The great Persephone Lupin for the original fic and the not less wonderful lucidity for the translation. Thank you very much:)
o
Realisation
o
The comforting fragrances of camphor and eucalyptus played around Snapes nose, tenderly pulling him out from a long and deep slumber. No… No, he didn't want to wake. His subconscious resisted and tried insistently, yet unsuccessfully to pull back from the more and more discernible impressions of the outside world. He was so tired…
Somewhere in the distance a clock was ticking and various other noises echoed through the room. Paces… A door being closed… Soft voices… Somebody placing something onto a metal desk… The voices grew clearer…
"…would be the best for him in his condition, Albus."
"I'm sorry, Poppy. I have tried everything in my power, but St. Mungo's is jam-packed. The final, desperate riots of the Death Eaters have caused so many casualties, that even the corridors and the entrance is packed with beds. Dilys Derwent spoke with all her contacts, and she had no success whatsoever either. However – I'm under the not unfounded impression that our dear Severus would not agree on a transfer to the hospital anyway…"
"But Albus…"
"No, as a matter of fact, he would not," commented the Potions Master with a faint voice as he slowly opened his eyes.
"Severus!"
Snape noticed some quickly approaching paces and almost simultaneously the heads of Madam Pomfrey and Albus Dumbledore appeared in his field of vision.
"How are you feeling, child?" asked the Headmaster, while the nurse placed her hand on Snape's cheek to feel his temperature.
"Tired," Snape stated dryly.
Madam Pomfrey took out her wand and moved it slowly over the body of the ill wizard for a deeper examination. "Are you in pain, Severus?"
"A… little," said Snape hoarsely. "I feel sick…"
"That's an unfortunate side effect of the potions mix I had to administer, I'm sorry," said Madam Pomfrey. "In addition, your circulation is unsound, since you have not eaten for days now." She finished the examination and gave him a serious glance.
"It's essential that you try to eat at least a little meal today," she said sternly. "While you have been unconscious, I was forced to administer potions and nutriments intravenously, but now you are awake and your stomach should get something to work on again. That's crucial for your circulation."
Only now Snape noticed the thin tube leading up to a small plastic bag, which was hanging on a metal frame above his head. The bag was filled with a translucent, brownish liquid. A shudder passed through the Potions Master's bruised body, while he tried not to think about food.
Madam Pomfrey strode away and returned after some moments, a small bottle and a spoon in her hand.
"I am sorry, that I cannot give you anything more for the pain, Severus. The dosage from the drip is rather high and I don't want your body to get used to it too quickly." She measured some drops from the bottle onto the spoon. "However, I will give you some drops to support your circulation. It should help quench the nausea as well, so hopefully you will be able to eat a little later on."
The nurse supported Snape's head, and he obediently swallowed the bitter liquid. He really should put more emphasis on the taste of his concoctions, he thought, grimacing.
As if reading his thoughts, Dumbledore chuckled. "You of all people really should not complain, Severus. After all it's you who is the Master of those liquefied cruelties." He rose and straightened his robes.
"I would love to stay with you for longer, my boy, but unfortunately I have to attend to a rather important matter at the ministry concerning the Death Eaters still on the run," he explained. "Please keep me up-to-date, Poppy, I plan to return the day after tomorrow."
Madam Pomfrey nodded in agreement. "I'll send an owl, should there be any significant change in Severus' condition. Good luck in London!"
The Headmaster squeezed Snape's shoulder gently, smiling at him encouragingly, and then left the infirmary.
"Did the effect of the medicine set in yet, Severus? Do you feel better now?" Madam Pomfrey asked.
Snape nodded. As a matter of fact, the dizziness and nausea were gone, as he discovered with relief.
"Fine," said the healer. "Because the bandages have to be changed." Smiling at her patient, she went over to the small metal cupboard where she stored the hardly ever used dressing materials.
The Slytherin noticed that he was now able to move his head without the room starting to spin around him. The sensation of an insurmountable weight pinning his body to the sick bed had diminished as well, and so he carefully lifted his head. He detected his left arm in a splint and bandages covering arm and shoulder. His right leg was propped up upon some pillows and heavily bandaged, as he observed with growing anxiety. Such Muggle techniques were downright unusual within magical medicine – a world, in which broken bones could be mended in a second didn't need splints and bandages. This was definitely not a good sign…
Snape slowly raised his hand and touched the dressing on his forehead…
"Severus, how are you feeling?"
Recognising Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice, Snape turned his head. The Auror was sitting a bed not far from him, propped up by a pillow, an open book in his lap.
Wresting a thin-lipped smile from his face, the Potions Master sighed. "Better… You?"
"Good," beamed his friend. "Poppy said, the wound is healing nicely and I'll be out of here soon."
"…the true extent of his injuries…"
The clause echoed through Snape's memory. Did he dream that? No, certainly not. One does not dream after taking a potion for dreamless sleep.
"Poppy…?" he asked quietly.
The healer approached, her hands full with various dressing materials.
"Yes, Severus? Do you need anything? Do you want a glass of water? I'll be with you in a minute…"
"Poppy… what… what happened to me?" Snape asked, his voice low and almost piteous. He gulped, given the concern that was slowly but steadily crawling up his intestines.
Slowly placing the dressing material on the nightstand beside the bed, Madam Pomfrey looked at him with a hint of pity in her eyes. Pity! That blasted witch should not pity him; she should tell him what the matter was! A mixture of anger and panic made his stomach clench.
"Please, Poppy," he growled, his heart pounding. "What's the matter? I am a grown-up man and generally quite comfortable with the truth… And I am not stupid," he added quietly. "I can see by myself that my situation does not seem …trivial."
"Oh Severus," the nurse sighed, drawing a chair closer to the bed and sitting down. Snape looked into her eyes, feeling uneasy.
"Albus and Minerva found you and Kingsley after everything was over. Kingsley told me what happened…"
Scenes of the fight on the hill formed anew in Snape's memory. Those green flashes of light; the pain… The pain, which was reduced to a dull throbbing in his shoulder and leg now.
"Severus, I am well aware that I cannot put anything past you and I don't want that anyway. You have been wounded gravely and your injuries are very serious." The nurse inhaled deeply and sighed again.
"I was shocked when Albus and Minerva brought you here. The blood loss was so great already, and I had difficulty stopping the bleeding," she said, eyes shimmering with tears. "It was so close, Severus. Not even when Kingsley brought you back from the Death Eaters, was I so in fear for your life." A single tear rolled down the witch's cheek. Trying to regain her composure, she brushed it away.
If Snape's heart would not have pounded in his throat, he would have been almost shocked by the unexpected emotion from the nurse. She, who always emitted an aura of calmness and professionalism, began to shed tears in front of his eyes? The events of the past few weeks must have gotten to her more than she would have admitted to herself…
"Forgive me, Severus," Madam Pomfrey apologised, having regained her professional tone at last.
"It was the curse, wasn't it?" the injured wizard asked softly.
"Not 'it was'… 'it is', Severus," Madam Pomfrey answered, sounding frustrated. "The curse is still a complete mystery, and an effective counter-curse is yet to be found. I'd love to torture these Death Eater buggers myself to find out the needed information," she added fiercely.
"Somehow this curse prevents the magical healing of the injuries – I have tried everything in my power, but it has all been fruitless. It is as if there was an impenetrable shield around the injured spots. I consulted with specialists from St. Mungo's, but they don't have any clue either. That's also the reason why St. Mungo's is so cramped – the facilities are not suited to such a huge number of long-term patients."
"Long-term patients?"
"Severus… I'm afraid your injuries will have to heal the conventional way. Without magic."
Over a short period of time none of them spoke a word. The revelation of the nurse cut Snape to the quick. No magic…? Blessed Paracelsus…
He sighed silently. "Just how bad is it, Poppy?" he asked hoarsely.
"Well, you received some minor and some serious injuries," Madam Pomfrey began explaining. "There is this cut on your forehead. It's deep, but I treat it with a healing salve to which you respond nicely – although I'm afraid there will be scar left."
The Potions Master snorted disdainfully. "Poppy, please, don't be ridiculous. I assume the risk of a scar on my face is currently a minor problem. Or am I mistaken?"
"No Severus, you are not," sighed the nurse. "The injuries on your shoulder and leg are far more severe." She inhaled deeply. "Your shoulder is broken – the left humerus, to be exact. The curse has downright penetrated the muscle and the bone. I stitched up the flesh wound manually and splinted the arm; fortunately it's a simple fracture. Which unfortunately cannot be said about your leg…" Her facial features grew even more serious. "The force of the curse was obviously so strong that it shattered your tibia and fibula. Furthermore, skin, tissue and vessels have been destroyed over a large area ...as if the curse drew a gouge of destruction." She shuddered visibly at that image.
"And… what is the meaning of this?" Snape retched out, shocked to the bone.
"I'm sorry, Severus, but that means that you should prepare for a prolonged stay here."
Snape felt like any strength had left him, his already sallow face now utterly bloodless. He tried not to think of how his leg looked under the bandages. As he had already done countless times before, he cursed his former master and his myrmidons – and for the second time today he invoked Paracelsus. Sighing deeply he turned his face away.
"Nevertheless, you are going to recover, Severus," Madam Pomfrey tried to reassure him. "I promise."
Recover – certainly… But when and particularly how…, Snape thought bitterly and closed his eyes.
"Severus? Severus, please look at me!"
Reluctantly he turned his head, facing the nurse.
"Severus, I promise you will heal," Madam Pomfrey insisted. "Do you understand? I promise." She turned around and reached for the glass of water placed on the small nightstand. "Now – drink a little and afterwards you have to eat a bit, before I change the bandages."
Snape remained silent, while the nurse slowly instilled the liquid. After the glass was emptied, Madam Pomfrey went to the fireplace to floo an order down to the kitchens. After some time a house elf appeared, bringing a light vegetable soup.
"I am not hungry," Snape growled through clenched teeth.
The healer took the chair and sat beside the sick bed, soup and spoon in her hands. "Please, don't be bull-headed now, Severus," she said in a tone that didn't tolerate objection. "You've got to eat a little." Flicking her wand, she carefully lifted the head of the bed to get her patient in a more upright position. Snape emitted a low moan at the change in posture, and then fell silent again. Without any further comment, compliantly, he let himself be spoon-fed by the nurse.
The changing of the bandages was a long and painful matter, and finally the Potions Master lay atremble and drenched in sweat. Thankfully he swallowed the potion for dreamless sleep and by the time Madam Pomfrey closed the curtains around the bed, he was already drifting over to an exhausted sleep.
o
ooo
o
A/N: Since there seem to be no religious matters in canon and the name of Merlin is already quite worn to address, I chose to let Severus invoke a famous alchemist – Paracelsus. He has lived in Austria, hehe… (en. wikipedia. org/wiki/Paracelsus)