Hello everybody! nervous smile I dreaded updating this chapter because I know everyone out there is just waiting for a chance to say "FINALLY!" No excuses this time. I should have done something three weeks ago after uni finished, but I lacked motivation. So everyone had to wait. I'm really sorry! I suppose I deserve it if everyone punishes me by not leaving a review…Anyway, chapter twenty's here. A pretty pointless chapter if you asked me, but I had to do something to get myself going. Read it, enjoy (I hope). And thanks again to Shiegurl, my beta.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and everything associated with him does not belong to me.
The Morning After
The familiar smell of disinfectant swirled through his head, drugging his senses even as it brought him back to consciousness. Severus registered through the thick fog in his head that he was in Poppy's hospital wing again. Brilliant. What had happened to him this time What was serious enough to warrant a visit to the Hogwarts matron? He was still groggy from the effects of what he recognised as a Sleeping Draught and tried as he might, the facts eluded him. Severus tried to pull himself up intoa sitting position on his bed but the heavy weight on his chest and his arms were weak. He slumped heavily back onto the bed. Severus recognised the after effects of a tranquilizer; Poppy had once described it as 'Hagrid drunk and snoozing with one leg thrown across your chest'. She was not far off the mark, but Severus was of the opinion that this time, he might just have both legs on him, with an arm thrown in for good measure.
Severus stared unseeingly at the ceiling for a moment before he felt his torso being lifted gently by a pair of phantom hands until he was sitting up. Severus frowned, annoyed. He despised any kind of physical assistance, especially when the permission to touch him was not granted. No one but the Headmaster of Hogwarts would have authorised himself to handle Severus in any way unless consent was given. No points for guessing who was in the hospital wing with him right now.
Severus struggled once again into a sitting position; resenting his obvious dependence on other people. "Headmaster," he croaked as a way of greeting when Dumbledore emerged from whichever corner of the hospital wing he was hiding in. Albus nodded benignly and swept his hands towards the windows, causing the curtains to part. Severus narrowed his eyes and scowled as sunlight suddenly filled the previously dark room.
"How are you feeling, my dear boy?" Albus inquired kindly. Severus snorted, amused that the Headmaster had never failed to ask him that particular question every time. A verbal reply wasn't needed because Dumbledore knew what his answer would be. So he asked the question on his mind.
"What happened, Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore calmly conjured several chairs before he found one to his satisfaction and sat down on it. Severus rolled his eyes impatiently even though thepain that shot through his head sent his ears ringing. Chintz chairs again. It seemed that wonders do cease at one point in a person's life.
Albus spoke. "I believe you met Voldemort again last night," he supplied helpfully and Severus shuddered at the name. The memories of last night's events swarmed inhis head, providing him with an explanation as to why he was in the hospital wing. But he could not, for the life of him, recollect anything that would explain how he returned to Hogwarts after he lost consciousness. Severus paused in his musings and realised belatedly that Dumbledore was expecting a report of last night's incidents. He scowled and dutifully recounted his experience.
"The Dark Lord was absolutely ecstatic that Miss Granger is still unaccounted for and that she and I are now…" Severus racked his brains for a word to describe their situation that would not disgust him. "Separated," he finally said. "So he ordered Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange to host a private party for me to celebrate." Severus laughed depreciatingly. "Malfoy and Lestrange took turns toasting me. I believe I musthave been laughing in delight the whole night My throat is raw today. I think I was knocked out after the twenty-second round, but who knows? I probably blacked out after the third. My two friends are very generous; they always serve the best and strongest stuff. Anyway, here I am. Sober like the Dark Lord wanted me." He smirked. "Seems like I was not fated to die last night. And I was looking forward to it, too. What a pity."
Dumbledore tutted. "Such language, Severus. The Cruciatus Curse is not to be taken lightly and I am glad you are back with us now. Poppy will be around shortly, I believe. I promised to inform her the moment you woke up. She'll be delighted to see you safe and sound." Dumbledore's mouth twitched and Severus scowled. Poppy would fuss and he would have to endure it if he wanted to leave the hospital wing as soon as possible.
Damn Dumbledore's annoying attempts at small talk! Severus thought angrily and directed the conversation to the one thing that had been on his mind since he regained consciousness. "What am I doing in the hospital wing, Albus? Why aren't I still where Malfoy and Lestrange would have left me? And don't," he added as a warning when he saw the twinkling in Dumbledore's eyes, "attempt to beat around the bush, Albus. I am not in the mood to humour even you."
The twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes faded just a little and he sighed. "You were brought back, Severus."
Severus waited but it appeared that Dumbledore had turned evasive, and would offer no further explanation. Severus cursed and flung himself out of the bed, pausing just for a second to regain his shaky balance before he started pacing angrily. "Damn it, old man! Who was it? Who was foolish enough to enter a cemetery at night and start playing the hero?" He spun around to glare at Dumbledore, willing the Headmaster to speak. Dumbledore held a guarded look on his face and Severus frowned in thought. Albus knew something about the identity of his rescuer, and he wanted to tell Severus. However, something made him unwilling to part with the knowledge. Severus frowned. What was it that was so bad that Dumbledore would not answer him outright, preferring to let Severus to work through the puzzle by himself? Severus' mind worked furiously; his earlier fatigue and grogginess banished. Who in the Wizarding World would he least want to be rescued by?
The answer came to him almost at once and he choked. "Potter," he snarled.
Dumbledore blinked once, his eyes dancing merrily as they continued to study the younger man. Severus glared at him. Not Potter then. Thank Merlin! He would not survive the humiliation of a second debt to a Potter; asking Gilderoy Lockhart for an autograph would have been easier.
Dumbledore finally broke his silence. "Calm down, Severus. This is the hospital wing. You are not the only person in here who needs a good rest." His head tilted towards the heavily-curtained bed in the furthest corner of the room.
Severus glared at the Headmaster again, trying to determine the hidden message behind Dumbledore's seemingly pointless comments. If Dumbledore had made such a point about that particular bed, then whoever was involved in last night's activities was surely just hidden behind the curtains. Severus strode towards the bed and reached for the curtains, pausing for a second to pray that it wasn't Weasley on the other side of the curtain.
"Severus," Dumbledore spoke. Severus turned his head slightly to give the Headmaster his full attention. "I will allow you to satisfy your curiosity, but I want your pledge that you will not do anything to wake the patient. Any questions you might have, and I do not doubt that you will have them, we will discuss in the privacy of my office. Understood?" Severus nodded impatiently and pulled the curtains aside, and stared in horror and disbelief at the female figure lying on the bed.
Ron was rudely awoken from slumber by an insistent purring in his right ear. "Go away, Crooks," Ron muttered as he turned away from the cat and shoved a pillow over his head to block the noise out. Crookshanks had taken up residence in the seventh year boys' dormitories ever since Hermione moved to the dungeons, and the orange fur ball slept in all the boys' beds in turn. Lately however, Crookshanks had taken a preference to the redhead's bed. Ron did not normally mind Crookshanks' early routines (which he suspected were habits that the cat acquired from living with Hermione), but today the cat had disturbed his dream about his best friend. Ron closed his eyes, trying to ignore the now hissing cat, and savoured the memory of Hermione's soft body in his arms, using the dream as a substitute for the unattainable in real life.
Ron had had a crush on Hermione since fourth year, but an awkward and embarrassing talk with Ginny in his fifth year had convinced him to wait for further signals (if any) from Hermione before he made any attempts to take their friendship to the next level lest he risk it for feelings Hermione could not reciprocate. So he waited. In the end, Hermione had married their Professor, and he had been left bleeding silently underneath first his righteous anger, and then, after things had settled down, his happy façade. He had felt a glimmer of hope when the 'bloody Ministry' annulled Hermione's marriage, but that was immediately consumed by the fact that one of his best friends was now 'presumed dead'.
Ron sighed and started to drift off into a semi-conscious sleep when the pain seared through his left fore arm. All traces of sleepiness were banished as Ron yelled out in pain and fury and he shook his hand frantically, trying desperately to release Crookshanks' grip on his hand. The cat hit the ground and started to alternate between snarling at the redhead and scratching desperately at Harry's trunk the same moment Seamus' irritated voice told them to 'shut the hell up in Merlin's name'.
Ron glowered at the lump that was Seamus and then narrowed his eyes at Crookshanks. What was wrong with it? The cat did not normally display such signs of aggressiveness; the only time it did that was when it had Scabbers on its agenda. But the rat couldn't be brave or stupid enough to step foot on Hogwarts a second time, could it? Curiosity got the better of him and his anger towards Crookshanks was momentarily dissipated. Ron scrambled off his bed and went over to his friend's bed. "Hey, Harry, mate," he said, shaking Harry's shoulders violently, "Mind if Crooks and I go through your things?" Harry grunted and Ron took it as consent; years of living with Harry had taught him to read his friend's more unsavoury noises. He opened the trunk and barely stepped back before Crookshanks pounced onto it and started clawing through Harry's possessions. Ron hurriedly snatched the Invisibility Cloak lying on the top out of the way before Crookshanks tore the delicate fabric apart.
After what seemed like an eternity to Ron, Crookshanks finally found what he was looking for. The cat seized a yellow piece of parchment and jumped out of Harry's trunk, depositing what Ron recognised as the Marauders' Map at the redhead's feet and then looking upat him expectantly. Ron's eyes widened. What in Merlin's name was the cat trying to tell him? Picking up the map, Ron went back to his own bed and retrieved, with some difficulty, his wand from underneath his heavy blanket and several pieces of parchment. He glanced at the cat again and saw that Crookshanks was staring intently at the blank map that he had placed on his bed. Shrugging off his hesitation, Ron pointed his wand at the parchment and muttered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."
Crookshanks jumped up onto his bed as the familiar words appeared on the parchment. Ron reached out to take the map but withdrew his hands hastily when Crookshanks swatted at him. Ron scowled, annoyed that the ginger-haired cat, like his owner, was as know-it-all and as protective of anything that resembled a book, and sat back to allow the cat full reign of the map.
Ron rolled his eyes in exasperation as the cat studied the map intently. "You're a clever cat, Crooks," he muttered, "but not as smart as you pretend to be. You're fooling yourself if you think you can understand what's written on this map."
Crookshanks raised its head and glared at Ron. Then, arching its back, it circled the Marauders' Map slowly, all the time throwing Ron a look of superiority and pity that reminded the redhead strongly of Hermione. Finally, when it was done snubbing, Crookshanks pointed its front paw at a spot on the map and Ron leaned forward reluctantly to look. His eyes widened as he recognised the name he saw in the hospital wing. He flung himself out of his bed and hurried over to his best friend. His voice shook slightly as he spoke, "Harry, wake up! We're going to the hospital wing! Now!"