Disclaimer: The characters belong to J.K. Rowling. None of the individuals in the banner or the people who photographed them are in any way affiliated with me.

Pairing: Severus/Harry.

Rating: R

Warning: May trigger those with experience for MDS and AML.

Summary: Hope sees the invisible, feels the intangible and achieves the impossible.

Author's note: It seems that I am always providing a glossary. I must apologize to those who think 'these type of fics' are overdone by me.

Author:Spirit

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Culpa Internum

The Fault Within

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CHAPTER ONE

If it hadn't been such a disturbingly bright day Severus would never have noticed.

Gazing through a magically enchanted window, four floors up in the towering building of St. Mungo's Hospital with nothing to do but wait, Severus wondered if perhaps the right course would not have been to use whatever resources he had and kept his condition from McGonagall's knowledge. That was not plausible of course, as he had not been the one to tell her in the first place. He couldn't even remember the journey to St. Mungo's except in a haze of blurry figures and strange slurred voices.

As he looked distractedly down upon the street below his window, he chased down the memories that had gotten him here.

The first sign that something was wrong would have been the moment he woke up. But, even though he went through his morning ritual of a bath, then brushing his hair and teeth, with the unsatisfied feeling that he could do with another three hours of sleep, he ignored his tiredness with a mere shrug and the realization that as always his sleep had been restless because of his perpetual nightmares.

When McGonagall pointed it out to him at breakfast though, he had bristled as if insulted.

"Good morning Severus." The reigning headmistress' eyes had travelled up and down the length of him appraisingly. "You look tired. Surely you at least tried to get some sleep last night? It will reflect badly on the students if you take out your fatigue on them, you know."

Severus had drawn up the chair closest to her. It was his usual seat by now but after two years, he still was not comfortable with the position of returning to Hogwarts as the new deputy headmaster in addition to being the Potions professor again. Of course, he had been told about the decisions that had been made in the nearly six months that he had been missing after the war. Every time he thought upon it he became incredibly grateful that for three of those months he had been in a coma and for two more months he had managed to convince his Healers to keep his survival a secret. Sometimes he thought that he liked the notoriety more than the fawning that he was at times subjected to. Even living in secret, cursed and dying, had been better than the fact that the press now hung upon his every word. So in a way he had been forced to accept the position at Hogwarts, because even in his anger and guilt he knew that the school was still the safest and most secluded place that he could find refuge.

"Severus?"

Severus had turned to glare openly at his collegue, daring to do what not many found they had the courage to attempt, by openly snapping at her. "Minerva, it is barely eight in the morning and I haven't breakfasted yet. Why don't you do us both the favor of taking your good intentions and suffocating worry to a candidate who is more tolerant of it so early in the day?"

She seemed unfazed, instead, shoving a glass of orange juice closer to him.

He gave her a look worthy of hell before snapping at her again. "I can get my own, thank you."

"I'd rather you get angry at me than kill a student." She glared. "You've been looking tired and a bit pale recently. It's my task to ensure that my staff is well enough to carry on with their duty, so I won't let you leave here until you've eaten something substantial."

That was another thing that had changed since his return. The worrying on his behalf. Granted, Dumbledore had been much more tiresome at it but at least he had always been subtle. When Minerva worried about Severus she did it in a more public manner, not raising her voice or even being so blatant as to catch the eyes of the sea of students, but being more of a nuissance. Severus suspected that it was because of the time that she had spent doubting his loyalty, no doubt wishing every ill that she could upon him, and when he had been cursed it turned out to be in favor of the light. Her guilt and shame made her extra watchful of him, thereby smothering him in a manner than he had never thought to be possible of her.

They did an odd sort of shuffling with the items of food along the Head Table. The other professors, used to it after two years, merely aided whichever side that they could, but the students remained as unknowing as ever. The dispute ended with Severus yanking out his wand and causing everything on the table to freeze in place. Minerva pursed her lips tightly, shot him a very displeased look, then rose from her chair and soon swept out of the Great Hall.

"You do look a bit under da' weath'er Snape," Hagrid piped up, turning a shade of red under his beard, but bracing himself for the insult that was coming. "She were jus' being hel'ful."

"Thank you for your concern but I'm hardly going to die from fatigue now am I?" Severus had rounded on him, just as soon as he unfroze the food. His glare was made possible from the empty chair that was between them. "Should I desire any more of your opinion I now know where to look for it. In the meantime, pass the butter. Right now I need it far more than I need advice."

Hagrid passed the butter in silence. Severus snatched it from him without so much as a nod. Then, he buttered the bread as swiftly as humanly possible, glaring all the while at any student who was brazen enough to meet his glare.

When a wave of dizziness had washed over him he had merely clutched the edge of the table tightly and attributed it to the tiresome nature of being around the other professors of Hogwarts.

So breakfast led to his first Potions lesson for the day.

The morning had dawned brightly and the Seventh year students, restless with their desires to be anywhere but locked up in the darkest corner of the castle, had been at their clumsiest. It was solely from his attempts to keep his classroom intact that Severus had shunned them to the grounds outside, in a hunt to replace all the precious Potion ingredients that they had wasted in their distraction.

Severus scowled at the glass now. His fingers tightened on the window ledge. He had not even realized that he had rested his hand there, but he soon had to release his grasp. It would not do to draw anymore blood from his self. He had lost enough in the two short hours that he had been imprisoned in the hospital room.

A part of his anger was embarrassment and a good part more was honest fear.

He had followed his class into the forest, snapping at them every chance that he had gotten, but then quite suddenly his breath seemed to hitch in his chest and he had found that he could not gasp enough air to appease the shortness of breath. His first thought had been that perhaps something about breakfast had not agreed with him. Perhaps he could have attributed it to Minerva and her inability to keep her inane concerns to herself. But then the world seemed to tilt upon its axis as a flood of dizziness overtook him and he fell to his knees breathing heavily. His heart had taken that moment to let itself be known by beating so fast within his chest that for a second he wondered if it would burst through.

"Profess'r?" He had heard Hagrid calling to him, but before he had the chance to respond, the world darkened and he quickly lost consciousness.

So now that he retraced his steps he knew what had happened to bring him to the hospital, but he still did not know why. He could hear the way the Healers had whispered together in panic when they thought that he had been too drugged to understand. As a spy he had more than adequate experience in acquiring and retaining information even at times when he was at his worst. Remembering their words now was nothing. Besides, he had spent enough time in the Muggle world to recognize the one word that they threw out to each other. He had no previous experience with the condition, being a wizard, but more than that, he had seen the fear in his Healers' eyes as they conversed. What he had was not usually present in the magical population, and in the Muggle world where it occured frequently enough, they had yet to find a definite cure.

Leukemia.

Severus shook his head as if to dispell with the bother that just the word conveyed. Even if he did not quite understand everything about it - and he was determined to learn everything soon - he could feel it. He could feel the weak, tiredness that came with the condition. He at least understood the part about his blood lacking oxygen from the loss of red blood cells. For now the anemia was the more prevalent symptom.

But no one was speaking to him, just to each other and using the most medical terminology that they knew, because of course, there were Muggle doctors affiliated with St. Mungo's that had been called in when the Healers had been stumped. It was they who diagnosed him. They who knew that his white cells count were far too high compared to the red blood cells but still too low in general.

Severus could wait for long periods of time, years in fact, without answers, but this waiting was almost too much.

"Snape, you should be in bed resting."

Severus had turned around sharply when the door opened and he had been glaring his hardest as he did, but the Healer who entered still said her piece, unfazed. In fact, she briskly walked over to him and indicated that he should get back on the cotton sheet that covered the small hospital bed. He glared at her again but she stood her ground.

"I must decline the request Madam Kehland," he said pointedly into the silence that had fallen.

"Professor Snape, we just believe that it is better for you to sit while we explain this to you. It may take a while to go through the concepts and to explain all complications. You will be more comfortable sitting."

Severus shifted his hard gaze from the madam to the Healer that strode into his room, followed by a line of strangers. Severus recognized the young Healer more than he recognized the calm, professional voice. It had been a while since he had seen this particular former student. He harbored a suspicion actually that this student had been one of two former students to bring about the supposed relocation of one Harry Potter from England to some god forsaken and still unknown hole in the universe.

But he sat at the request anyway, out of respect.

Healer Kehland looked between the two people who seemed to be communicating on some unspoken level, but she quickly got herself under control. Instead she indicated that everyone else could draw up their own chairs as she shuffled through her scrolls of notes then turned her attention back to her patient.

"Let me introduce to you everyone who has been looking into your condition." She held out a hand to those seated on her right. "Of course you recognize your Healers of two years ago who worked on the degenerative blood curse of which you had been the unfortunate recipient. Well on my left, that is Doctor James Austin, Doctor Nancy Bromwell and Doctor Kadil Pitantino. They are all Muggle Haematologists and Doctor Pitantino is also an Oncologist. Beside them is Healer Neil Mitchell. He works on blood curses, magical transfusions and rehabilitation."

Severus remained silent. Healer Kehland took that as her cue to continue. She opened her first scroll.

"What you have Mr. Snape, is the early stages of a condition that in Muggle terms is called Myelodysplastic Syndrome, which in its simplest form is usually described as a disorder of the bone marrow, resulting in low blood cells counts. Assuming that you understand these references - " Snape nodded and she continued, " - it means that all your cells...red, white and platelets...are lower than they should be because your bone marrow is damaged. Your body is no longer able to provide you with the correct amount of red blood cells to maintain oxygen, so currently you are showing signs of fatigue, which is indicative of anemia."

"And what about the complications?"

The quiet, sure voice response from the only other person who was still standing, not belonging to either side of the room as it were.

"Well, two years ago when you were brought to St. Mungo's the Healers assumed that the curse was contained and cured. We assure you that it mostly was, but this new Muggle-like disorder seems to be a mild side effect. I know that it does not seem mild but, well I'm sure you remember what the curse did to you and how painful it was. This won't be quite so painful, but because it is a derivative of the curse we are fairly certain that it will not simply be cured by the usual means of blood transfusions and medication from any source."

Nothing in Severus' expression changed as he kept his eyes locked onto the dark blue ones before him, even as he asked the question that made the Muggles in their midst, cringe visibly.

"So this disease will be left to spread and worsen. Nothing can and will be done?"

Kehland waved her hand in an attempt to be nonchalent. "No Snape! We will of course do our best, provided that we find what we need. In that event a mere bone marrow transplant is all that would be necesary."

"But it will worsen!" Snape snapped and Kehland started at the tone.

"Yes, it will worsen." There was no mercy in the cool voice now as the young Healer spoke again. No secret, at least in this circumstance. "Worsen in fact until we are sure that only the bone marrow transplant will work. You see because we cannot treat you, because we don't have the magic to do it having never been put into this situation before, we rely upon what the Muggles tell us, but they barely have the answer for themselves much less us. We can only wait. It will become Acute Myeloid Leukemia and then we Healers cannot treat it. We have no idea what magic it would take. So we will hope that at its worst the transplant, our only option at that point, will be enough."

"And what is the complication with that?"

"You will need a bone marrow that matches yours identically. Identically." Kehland's voice had gone soft, all the fight bled out of it. "The usual channels such as close family members would never work. You would need an heir. No, worse. A twin. A clone. A replica of yourself. But you could not even create one magically because you haven't even been blessed with time. You have three months at most and then your magic will be too weak and you will be too sick to try anymore. We are...sorry."

As one, the group rose and their seats disappeared. As one, they expressed their condolences and their hopes, a few even swore that they would find some other way because they would not accept that he could not be saved.

Snape sat unmoving, his features seemed to be carved from some hard granite into an expression that was not of fear this time but of resignation and acceptance. He closed his eyes briefly and caught glimpses of the life that he had led. Had he not atoned for his sins? Did he not make the right choices in the end? Hadn't it been worth it? Hadn't it been worth the sacrifices that he had made? Hadn't it been worth the nights that he had lain promising the gods that should he live past the darkness and the evil then he would never turn away from the light again?

He laughed a humorless sound under his breath.

The funny thing was that even if he had prayed for death and had bargained his whole life, to die of a disorder that seemed so Muggle, was an irony that could only be the universe getting back at him for his younger years. It could only be an atonement for a time when he had developed the god-like complex that usual accompanied the soul of every Death Eater. Now not even his potions could save him. His whole existence was...a waste...and he would die as alone in the world as he had entered it. What did he have to show for his years alive? What would they remember of him when he died? And would anyone even remember?

Severus opened his eyes slowly. Without moving his head he knew that he was not alone in the room. The former student that was now his Healer was still standing in the exact same spot, having not left as the other Healers had. Snape turned to face the silent figure now.

"Mr. Weasley, do not concern yourself. It is not death that I fear," he said pointedly.

Ron inclined his head slightly, a small smile curled on his lips and his lapis lazuli eyes seemed to sparkle, not with sympathy but with something else.

"Professor Snape," he said softly. "You are not dead yet. There is still, always, hope. You never know. Somewhere out there someone or something just might owe you a gift."

"I doubt that I've been so good as to be owed a miracle at this point in my life," Snape said dryly. "You and your friends are perhaps the only three people to understand that good does not always beget kindness or salvation from penance."

But Ron still seemed optimistic, even though the sadness of his eyes seemed to deepen at Snape's words.

"Hope dies last," he whispered, almost to himself before looking at Severus again. "Remember that Professor Snape. You're not dead yet."

"Yet," Severus echoed.

His voice was cold and dared Ron to challenge him further, but the door closed with a soft click as Healer Weasley left the room and Severus was left to sit in the silence to wonder if hope could possibly be enough for a Slytherin.

o - o
tbc

Glossary and The National Cancer Institute)

Leukemia - An acute or chronic disease of unknown cause characterized by an abnormal increase in the number of white blood cells in the tissues of the body with or without a corresponding increase of those in the circulating blood, and is classified according to the type of white blood cell most prominently involved.

Haematologists - A doctor who specializes in diseases of the blood and blood-forming organs.

Oncologist - A doctor who specializes in treating cancer.

Myelodysplastic Syndrome - Disease in which the bone marrow does not function normally. Also called preleukemia or smoldering leukemia.

Acute Myeloid Leukemia - A quickly progressing disease in which too many immature white blood cells (not lymphocytes) are found in the blood and bone marrow.