Chapter Thirty Three: The Awakening
Darkness. Complete darkness. Where were the flames and burning hot pans of Hell? If he was not in Hell, where could he be? Then an insufferable pain pierced him. Yes, that was definitely Hell. Like both his life and death were.
Maybe his destiny now was the replaying of his death over and over again? The punishment for all his sins? Then he felt himself falling into a bottomless hole, but it wasn't full of hopelessness, it was security and calmness. He was not sure how much time had gone, but he felt an urge to open his eyes. Quite unusual for a dead man, but he could do whatever he wants now.
He slowly opened his eyes only to be faced with a broadly smiling Draco Malfoy.
"Welcome back, professor," Draco said, checking Snape's pulse and nodding with satisfaction, finding it completely normal.
Snape's eyes widened with realization. He was alive? But that's impossible! How could that happen? Of course, he apparated to the laboratory hoping that his assistants would do something, but that was just a surviving instinct, which was far from certainty. "How?" he squeezed out of him.
"You can't talk now, professor. You need all your strength to recover. So don't waste it," Draco sat down on a stool near the bedside. He occupied it the whole night, looking after the changes in the condition of his Godfather. "But I can answer your question for your own entertainment. It was "Bringing from Death". Virginia had found it during one of her researches, so we didn't waste time looking for the cure, only the ingredients."
It took Snape thirty seconds to recall the potion Draco was talking about and another forty five to remember the ingredients for it. After recalling the last one, he frowned. The potion couldn't have worked, there was no one. "Who?" he breathed out.
"I could've bet you'd ask this as soon as you woke up," Draco said with a smirk. "Your debtor," he answered, knowing everything concerning Halflife's curse and the lifting of it.
Snape's cheeks turned slightly pink. 'No way in Hell!' thought Draco unbelievingly. 'Snape is blushing! What a picture! I bet the whole Gryffindor House would give more than ten galleons just to see it,' then suddenly all mockingness disappeared in Draco's thoughts. 'The feeling must be mutual then. It was worth turning back.' Still he wasn't all happy for Snape. He was glad to know he was alive, but Draco was also jealous. Jealous of love.
It was beaten under his skull that love was nothingness, a thing the Malfoys didn't waste their time on. Something he could be better not having and live peacefully without. But Lucius wasn't the authority for him now; he did not have to follow his rules. Of course, it wasn't just the matter of rebellion for Draco. He longed for it. Why, he didn't know. He felt insufficient not to be able to love and be loved with people around him loving each other, even Snape!
The door opened and in walked Dumbledore with Ginny. "I received the news that you are back with us, Severus," he addressed Snape with genuine happiness on his face. "Professor Malfoy and professor Weasley did a great job. You wouldn't have been here, if not for their hard and persistent work." Draco and Ginny, who by that time stood beside Draco, looked at their feet embarrassed by such praise. "I think they deserve a reward, don't you think, Severus?" he asked, turning to Snape who nodded. "I'll give them a day off."
The young professors looked at him confused. "I mean there will be no lessons, received or taught, training, practices, just a free day to do whatever you like inside or outside. Your rest will start tomorrow morning. Now, I must leave. I hope you'll get well soon, Severus. Everything for this will be organized."
With that he went away, leaving professor Snape on the mercy of his assistants. Ginny was the first to react. "So how are you, professor? Do you need anything? A breakfast perhaps?" she asked question after question, rearranging his pillows for him to be more comfortable.
Snape couldn't believe his eyes and other senses. Ginny Weasley was fussing over him like a mother hen. And he saw that Dumbledore was really happy to see him alive and Macbeth…, well that was another matter to think about, but let's postpone it for better time. "A glass of water will be fine," Snape said with a cracking voice. His throat was sore and completely dry, like he spent all last week in a desert.
"In a moment," Ginny smiled and flew off to find some water.
"I suppose you need this also," Draco said, handing Snape a goblet with yellow liquid. "For your throat."
Snape looked at it closely, sniffed it, then nodded with approval and drank. It made him cough a few times. "Thank you," his voice sounded normal now. "How long was I out from this 'wonderful world'?" Snape asked with sarcasm, but still glad that he didn't die. This time.
Draco thought for a moment. "Three-four days." 'Three-four days! It lasted like eternity in Hell! I feel like I grew older over three years not days. All this nervousness and frustration. I really need to rest a bit. Gonna sleep the whole day tomorrow. '
Ginny appeared with a glass of water and a tray full of food of different kinds. "Here is your meal, professor. You must eat it all or else," she said in a tone of a strict mother. Then turned to Draco. "Do you need anything else, Draco?" He shook his head. "I'll see you tomorrow then. Gonna plan our day off."
"What do you mean 'our' day off?" Draco asked with a frown.
Ginny sighed disappointed. "I thought we'd spend it together."
Draco blinked a few times from surprise then said unsurely, "I have nothing against it." With a smile she wanted to hide, Ginny ran out of the chambers. 'She wants to spend her free time with me of all people! Yey, I am lucky! It will be the best day of my life!' A satisfied grin appeared on Draco's face on its own accord.
Snape watched the display with interest and amusement of his own. He didn't mean to play a matchmaker when he started their partnership, but then why not? 'They really look good together.' "So you are both teaching now?" Snape decided to start a conversation.
"It was your wish."
"How is it going? The classroom hasn't been destroyed into pieces yet?"
"Everything is all right. Virginia is helping, so it's much easier for me to concentrate on the older students. They are doing well; the lessons plans are being fulfilled. No detentions so far," Draco said monotonously, then frowned and shook his head. "No, not everything is well. They are looking at me with suspicion, when they think I am not watching them. Like I am going to stab them in the back the minute they turn away. They listen to whatever I say, but it's like walking on a cliff's edge. I don't give a lot of homework because I don't have time to bother myself with correcting it. But even without it they don't respect me as a teacher."
"They don't respect me either and I've been teaching for almost twenty years. It's the feature of the subject," Snape said with understanding.
"Merlin, I know it, but it is just…Of course, I haven't myself finished school, but I just don't want everybody to glare at me like it is my fault their parents are dead from fighting. I have nothing to do with it."
"But they don't know it; they need a scapegoat for their troubles. You are a perfect match."
Draco noticed that Snape had finished his meal already; he took the tray and put it on the nearby desk. "Why don't you ask about it?" Snape said.
"About what?"
"About what happened to me."
"I don't want you to recall bad memories. I don't know details, but on the whole it's known to me."
"I always wonder how you manage to be informed so well."
"I don't want to know as much as I do. It's not easy to cope with all the knowledge."
"I still need to report everything to Dumbledore, but I want to tell you first."
"Please, don't," Draco pleaded with desperation.
"What are you afraid of?" Snape asked puzzled by his reaction.
"I felt your pain; it is more expressive than any words."
"How could it happen?"
"I don't know. I don't usually feel anything that the person I examine does. It was horrible, especially when Voldemort was trying to kill you through the Mark. I wanted to die just to stop that torture," Draco shuddered just from the thought of living through it again.
"That is the point of it," Snape said with hatred.
"The point of what?"
"It is the new curse made by Voldemort himself. He called it "the Unforgivable Trio". He united the three Unforgivable curses into one. When cast, it puts a person under Imperio and he starts to torture himself getting rid of something that caused him to suffer, but he couldn't do it before because he didn't feel able to do it, and only death finishes his sufferings. You don't even need to point the wand at the victim all the time, like during Cruciatus. Everything happens on its own accord. Disgusting!" Snape even spat on the floor. "Only one thing saved me. I snapped out from Imperio before it was too late."
"Thank God," Draco muttered.
"Why did you bother with healing me? Scientific interest?"
Draco looked at him, like he was crazy. "But we are your assistants. We couldn't leave you to die."
"But I am useless now. The date won't save the world. Who knows what forces he will bring to conquer these walls?"
"What are you talking about? To Hell with Voldemort, the Earth doesn't spin around him! How could the world loose one of the best Potions Masters? How could the school loose its most eccentric and fabulous Head of the House? How could I lose you, let you die in my own hands, father?" Draco's eyes widened in shock when the word left his mouth. He became too emotional with the recent events. It wasn't right to call professor Snape his father. "I am sorry, professor, it won't ever happen again, I am sorry," Draco began to apologize, looking anywhere but at Snape.
Snape was himself surprised by Draco's attitude. Still he was glad that there were people who cared for him. It wasn't easy to digest it all at once and Macbeth… "By the way, Draco, I haven't objected. I am your father of sorts."
"Yes, but it is so unusual. You can't be my father and the Head of the House and the Potions' professor. It is impossible to combine everything in one person," Draco said with uncertainty.
"It doesn't matter what you call someone or what place one occupies in your life, it is important what place he has in your soul."
"You think, I have a soul?" Draco asked with a sad smile.
"Of course you do. You were human the last time I checked. After the Halloween party. You still haven't told me your motives. Why would a promised Death Eater save Hogwarts and muggleborns from such a cunning and effective plan of the Dark Lord?"
'Why does he always see through me? It's almost impossible to hide anything from him. He probably knows me better than I do.' "It wasn't fair," Draco whispered, and then said louder, "It wasn't fair to attack them like this. They were defenseless; waiting for the party, to having fun. And then they were met by thousands of creepy, blood thirsty snakes. But the worst thing was that everyone had been bitten. Not only muggleborns, like in the second year, or half-bloods, but also purebloods, the slytherins. I could've died myself there. The snakes were uncontrollable. Of course, it was a brilliant idea, but it wasn't organized or planned properly.
Voldemort wanted the slytherins to join him, but could we have done that, if we had all been killed by his own snakes! The only conclusion is that it didn't matter to him. "Died? Well, I'll find other fools to join me". He wanted just to see people suffer. Who, it doesn't matter. His servants, children, Aurors in Europe or in America.
I just couldn't let it happen. It was a mass murder of people who couldn't fight back. Their faces…full of horror and panic." Pictures of that night flashed before Draco's eyes and he instantly regretted the awakening of those memories. White faces of the first-years, snakes all over the festive food, panic stricken glances of everyone around him and cries of pain and fear.
"That proves something, don't you agree?" Snape asked in his usual calm tone which he could keep in almost all situations, except maybe when a cauldron was blown up by Longbottom. "You prevented their deaths by standing against all the snakes and the Black Cobra. You were so concerned about their lives that you risked your own. You must have a soul to do it."
"Maybe you are right," Draco said with a shrug. Then looked at his chain watch. "I must be going. Another lesson with Potter."
"How is our only hope doing?" Snape asked with a smirk.
Draco smirked back. "Pretty well. He'll be ready. We've reached the final phase: psychological attack."
"You know that's very dangerous, not only for him, but for you also. It is far worse than Legitimacy."
"I know, I know," Draco replied with a sigh. "But it must be done or he'll never survive the duel with Voldemort and that isn't an option. And by the way, this matter is far from your concern, you must rest and gain your strength back," Draco said with slight reproach. He went to one of the cupboards and returned with several bottles. "I hope you'll approve of my choice of your medicine for tonight."
Snape read the labels: Dreamless Sleep, Relaxing Tonic and Life Burst. "Life Burst? What the Hell is it?" Snape looked at the vial as if it was an UFO alien.
"Oh, it is a mixture of your tonic of useful substances, stabilizing and energetical potions and some herbs," Draco responded hesitantly.
"You mean, you made it yourself?" Snape looked at Draco like seeing him for the first time. Draco curtly nodded. "Strange name for the potion," Snape commented, looking at the bottle closely.
"Virginia named it. After the first test," Draco said with a repressed chuckle.
"What? Your mouse burst into shreds?" Snape asked with irony.
"You'll find out when you try it," Draco answered his eyes sparkling. "It must go first."
Snape frowned. He must serve as a guinea pig to his own assistants. He examined the potion like somebody would examine a glass of wine. With a sigh he drank it in one gulp and immediately felt like all his molecules started to have a Formula 1 race in him, then as suddenly as it began it stopped. An unmistakable surge of energy and health flowed into his veins. Snape looked intently at Draco. "A very good potion, young man. I knew you had it in you."
"I just put everything together," Draco said casually, handing Snape the other two potions which swiftly found their way to Snape's stomach. "I'll go now."
Professor Snape put his head on a pillow and closed his eyes, Draco quietly went to the door, and in the very door frame he turned. "Sweet dreams, father," he whispered, but still was heard. That night professor Snape fell asleep with a smile on his lips.
It was early. Too early for halls to be full of students rushing to their first lessons, but early enough for the Sun to be rising from behind the horizon. The only person who was awake at this early hour was creeping through the dungeons. She quietly opened the heavy door, which revealed an unlit and mute room. After closing the door, she stepped closer to the bed and looked at the figure lying on it.
'Same black sheets and black crown of hair, even the pose is somewhere alike with his position when he was between life and death. Still there is something new. His face isn't that grim anymore, but more…relaxed and satisfied. Is it a smile?' she moved closer to be sure, she wasn't imagining things. 'It is a smile! Why doesn't he do it more often? It makes him even more attractive.'
She often asked herself, why he wasn't married with such a striking appearance. She couldn't help but notice him from the first day at Hogwarts. The only conclusion she came to, is that he didn't want to be noticed. Always on the edge of the table, deep in the dungeons, as if he was hiding all the time. Well, practically, he was hiding. From Voldemort, from the students, from himself…
She wanted to look beyond all that. She wanted to see a real person, the real him. She thought she had accomplished her mission. But she didn't find any 'fluffy, goody-goody' character, covered with a cruel façade; she had come face to face with a strong, devoted to his work, but a tired and lonely man.
She was unwillingly attracted to him. She was like him in so many ways. A Death Eater. A spy. A loner. She didn't know anything personal about him with the lack of talking but she still felt that she had lived the same life. She sat down on the bed and traced the line of his jaw with her fingers, admiring how right his features were set.
She could've sat and watched him for hours, but as any normal sleeping person, he had felt somebody touching him, urging him to wake up. He slowly opened his eyes then breathed out, "Macbeth, you've returned."
Halflife looked into his mesmerizing eyes. "I didn't go anywhere."
"You did."
"Even if I did, I won't leave you now."
"What do you mean?" Snape asked with a frown.
Suddenly Halflife wasn't that confident to cry about her feelings on every corner. She felt like a teenager on her first date. She wasn't even on a date now, but she was all sweaty from nervousness. "Your assistants are having a day off, so I'll be your nurse for today," was the only answer she mastered.
Snape sighed. He thought she had meant something else, something more. He didn't want to come back from Hell to return to his miserable life. He hoped she wanted to share his loneliness, so it wouldn't be so gravy to survive day after day. Her presence was enough for him – to just be with her, look at her, talk with her and the World would spin a bit faster.
"If you don't mind, I would like to use the bathroom." He slowly rose from the bed and headed to the mentioned place. Halflife couldn't help but stare. Just yesterday he awakened from a coma, he was still weak and walked with difficulty, but his movements didn't lack the grace and grandeur that were characteristic of him.
He returned to the well lit room, the bed sheets had been changed, a tray with breakfast on a desk ready to be served and Macbeth sat in an armchair that stood as close to the bed as possible. "I've brought you some food. Where would you like to eat, behind the desk or in bed?" she asked, trying to talk in a friendly, but a bit indifferent tone.
"I am not an invalid," Snape stated, sitting down behind the desk. He already lifted up his hands to take a knife and a fork to cut a very tasty looking omelet, when a sharp pain went through his left arm. He didn't remember having any problems with yesterday's supper, but then it dawned to him – he hadn't felt his left arm completely. He couldn't help but hiss and clench his left forearm with his other hand.
"What is it?" Halflife was by his side in an instant. "Your arm? Draco told me to change the bandages. Just sit still for a bit," she took everything she would need from the table beside the bed and already began to rebandage, when she found herself in a delicate situation: he was wearing pajamas and the wound was under it, so he had to take the pajamas top off, but she couldn't just ask him, it would be embarrassing… So she kept staring at his left shoulder, debating what to do.
Snape noticed her thoughtful look and followed her gaze. Rolling his eyes after understanding the problem, he just took the trouble making piece of clothing off, revealing a bloody bandage and a well shaped torso. The sight of blood made Halflife snap out of her thoughts. She gasped, but started to work quickly with her soft fingers at taking the dirty bandage off. But when she finished she gasped again, but this time much louder. "What is it?" Snape asked impatiently, the pain returned and made him feel very uncomfortable.
"It is gone," she answered breathlessly.
"What? The arm? I can still see it."
"The Mark. The Dark Mark is gone."
Now even Snape was interested, he looked at his left forearm and saw…nothing. A few bruises from the cut, but nothing else. There was no Voldemort in his life now. None of this spying mess. "Thank Merlin," he breathed out. "Some good news at last."
"We are both free now," she said with a smile.
"Yes, indeed, but it still hurts like Hell."
"Oh, sorry. Draco said to give you this," Halflife said, handing him a small bottle.
Snape read the label. "Hmmm, I've got a real talent here."
"What do you mean?"
"You, of course, don't know the difference between a Healer and a real Potions' Maker." She shook her head. "Healer heals people also using potions, but he also smoothes the things, so the potion wouldn't be very nasty or have some after effects. Potions' Maker doesn't think about such rubbish. The effect of the potion is the only important thing to him.
The point is that in this bottle is a very strong restoring potion, it can make even old scars disappear, but it has very bad side effects. Draco knows about them, I am sure, he used it once also. Still he gives it to me. Why? Because he knows that this is the best that Potions science can offer for my case. I am used to it anyway. And this he doesn't know." In one gulp he emptied the bottle. Right away he groaned through clenched teeth, squeezing the table top with his fingers, knuckles of which turned white from the pressure.
Halflife watched him with horror. Draco told her he didn't want him to suffer anymore. 'But what is this? Severus is going through immense pain, no doubt. How could Draco give him such a thing!' Then she moved her glance to the wound and was shocked once again: the forearm was completely clean – no blood, bruises or scars. Like there was nothing in the first place.
"I told you," Snape said with pride. "Hogwarts won't be left without a good Potions' professor."
"Of course. You are here."
"I am not eternal. I still want to retire after a few more years. I am too old to suffer from those idiots of students every day."
"You hate children so much?" she asked with slight disappointment.
"Maybe not that much, but they just don't understand the importance of being perfectly quiet and concentrating on their work. They always whisper between themselves, pass notes and don't pay attention to instructions," he answered with heavy reproach.
"But they are just kids, Severus. They must have fun when they still have time," Halflife said with warmth in her eyes.
"But not at my lessons," he snapped.
"Yes, I've heard all about it," she said, hiding a grin, "Do you need anything else? As I understood, the bandaging is useless now."
"Perfect effect," Snape said with admiration. "My old supplies," he frowned briefly. "Must be the last one."
"How do you know? You remember all the potions you have?" she asked, not believing one bit in the possibility.
"No, it's just very strong and the ingredients very rare and, thanks Merlin, the occasions to use it also."
Halflife noticed pain flashed in his eyes. 'Maybe he recalled some of the occasions.' "So do you need anything?"
"Oh, yes," Snape began thoughtfully. "You are my slave for today. What to wish…"
"I am not your slave! I was asked to help you to recover, not to do whatever you want!"
"A cup of hot tea would be nice," he said with a wryly grin and headed to bed.
After settling down with two cups of tea of a tea set of green and purple colors, Halflife decided to ask the question that had bothered her for a long time. "Why did you become a Death Eater?" she blurted out.
"Why do you want to know?" he asked conversationally.
"You must have a very good reason to join the Death Eaters, to sell your soul to the Devil."
"To sell is the most important word in your sentence, because you are promised to be given power to solve your problems. The variety of reasons isn't large: jealousy, revenge, blackmail, death."
"Which was yours?" she asked with a shudder, wishing it was not the last one.
"None of them. I was special," he sneered. "As strange as it can be, potions led my way to Voldemort." Halflife raised her eyebrows in confusion. "I was young and enthusiastic, but quite poor, because parents left me nothing. I finished Hogwarts and somehow managed to find money to receive the first degree in Potions. I worked at St. Mungo's for a while, here and there taking orders for potions' making. You know that poisons were and are my strongest subject. I still don't know why of all potions' aspects. But I started to make variable poisons for sale. Life is very valuable and to take it is even more expensive. So I made a little fortune selling poisons."
Halflife looked at him with disapproval. Seeing it, he explained. "The ethical aspect didn't bother me. I was a slytherin. Nobody can take it from me. So I sold potions to take somebody else's lives without even knowing the victim. Nobody, of course, traced the way from the dead bodies to me; I was a professional after all.
But such things don't stay unnoticed, especially when one by one your enemies die. It is a pleasant experience. So you want to thank the man who caused such 'misfortune'. That's how I was firstly recruited to make potions for money then became a Death Eater, as the Dark Lord said, to be at hand all the time," Snape smirked bitterly.
"So you went for money," Halflife concluded.
"Probably. I was thrown into real life penniless and, unfortunately, proud. I wanted to do what I liked the most – to brew potions. It didn't matter for whom. You yourself know what chaos was at those times. Dark Times. I just wanted to survive holding my head up. It hasn't done me any good as you can see."
"I just started school then and didn't pay much attention to my parents' activities. The first rising passed me by, so to say."
"You are a lucky one."
Halflife snorted. "Far from it. During the second rising I came to Fudge to say that I wanted to work for the Ministry as a spy, he laughed in my face. I did it practically all by myself, nobody knew about my work undercover. Once in a while the Ministry would receive an envelope with the date and place of the next attack or other useful information and that's it. No money, no medals, no anything!" she exclaimed with indignation.
"They are just pureblooded cowards afraid for their and only their asses," Snape spat, and she snickered.
"If you are so in love with your potions, why every year do you claim the post of the DADA teacher?"
"Oh, that," he took his glance away. "I won't answer this question, if you don't mind."
"I mind, actually. It's the biggest mystery of yours. Why to want another post if you've been teaching your favorite subject for so many years? I, possibly, know the reason, but I want to hear it from you."
"I prefer to listen," Snape said smugly, thinking she would never guess.
"You want to face your fears. To fight the darkness inside you, to protect others from it. You served Voldemort; you know what darkness it is from experience. You killed and tortured people, you couldn't only get off with some poisons because the Dark Lord wants you to do whatever he asks. And you do it without objection, or in another way – death. So you want to give the heaviness of your suffering to somebody else, to prepare them not to make the same mistake. Am I right?" she finished with the penetrating look of hers.
Snape was speechless. 'How can she know all that? She has read me like an opened book.' "How do you know?"
"I go though this myself every lesson," she answered simply.
"Oh."
They talked till lunch and after it till dinner, sipping cup after cup of tea without keeping track of time. But the subject of love wasn't raised till that very evening. They were now both sitting in the armchairs because Snape had started to feel like a baby, lying all day in bed. The other point was that talking to such a gorgeous woman and lying in bed gave some inappropriate ideas. "I want to thank you," Snape began carefully.
"For what?" Halflife asked light headedly.
"For saving my life."
Macbeth stiffened. She didn't know what to say in return. "You are welcome," she answered weakly.
"I know this potion. It's very complicated and depends mostly on people's feelings."
"You should thank a lot of people then."
Snape shook his head. "Actually, I need thank only you and my brilliant assistants."
"Why am I so special?" she asked shakily.
"Your feeling should be the strongest; it had your wish to bring me back."
'Why doesn't he simply ask, if I really love him? Why jump around the bush? But if he asks, what will I tell him?' He looked at her intently, waiting for her to say something. What? He didn't know himself. "I…I…" she began, but closed her mouth, finding her hands very interesting.
"Is it for real?" he asked uncertainly.
"Yes," she whispered.
"But why? There is nothing in me."
Macbeth lifted her head to look into his eyes. "How can you say so? Only your eyes are worth a world. Has anybody told you that you are handsome? You are asking me why I love you. Because I love you. Because we are berries from the same bush. I don't have the list of reasons with me. I just feel so and I like it."
"But I don't…"
Macbeth didn't let him finish. Her words started to come out like a fountain. "You don't love me! I knew it! It couldn't be possible! It was too good to be true!" A waterfall of tears started to flow down her cheeks. "You are damned Severus Snape, you can't love! I should've left you to die and not make my life Hell!" she abruptly stood up and rushed to the door.
"Macbeth, wait!" With four long strides he caught up with her and stopped her only by grabbing her and pressing her against his chest. She felt a little dizzy after such activities, but still acknowledged the fact that she was in his arms and it was even better than she imagined.
He tilted her head upwards by her chin to make an eye contact. He again felt that those eyes were his doom. "If I hadn't loved you, I would have been six foot under. But if I could choose my death, it will be drowning in your eyes." After such a declaration, he kissed her. It was a light kiss that, probably, lasted mere seconds, but it brought an explosion of emotions in Snape's head. Now he felt fully awakened, fully alive.
"I think, we should do this more often. Not only when we are on the verge of death," he whispered into her ear. The only answer was another kiss that was far from light.
That day started a long row of tea meetings between Severus and Macbeth.