Disclaimer: The same as the previous chapters.
Chapter 4
Sticking to his promise, Severus Snape had returned to his quarters but instead of laying down, he had marched straight to his private lab and sat down to prepare the necessary potions Poppy would be needing for the infirmary. As twenty-five burners flickered under cauldrons and the mist rose in abundance from the respective brims, he shrugged off his cloak and fiddled with his cravat.
Untying the black piece of silk cloth, he studied the magical pendant protected by a heavy concealment charm. The single leaf of sage swirled around a petal of lilac in the amber liquid. Only two people in the world knew about its existence. The fierce medi witch of Hogwarts and its formidable headmaster. Thankfully neither of them had questioned its significance. A year ago, when the Dark Lord had risen back to power and Dumbledore had asked for the inevitable from him, after all, it was a part of their deal which Snape had agreed upon fourteen years ago.
He had returned to the Dark Lord and had reestablished his trust in him by living through the master's spell of Cruciatus curse and reveal fourteen years' worth of information on Dumbledore and Magical Britain. Now that he thought about that day, he could distinctly recall Miss Hermione Granger's eyes studying him from beside Potter's bed, eager to unearth the hidden truth behind the headmaster's strange request. Even at that time, it was Remus Lupin who had brought him inside the castle once Voldemort had asked him to resume his post as Dumbledore's pet. He did remember apparating back to Hogwarts, catching a glimpse of the werewolf's face hovering over him before losing consciousness.
Opening his eyes hours later, he had found himself in his quarters flanked by Dumbledore and Madam Pomphrey.
Unable to speak with a broken jaw, Snape had gone rigid when Dumbledore had tugged at his pendant and studied it through his half-moon glasses. Over his shoulders, Poppy stood with streaming eyes.
"Interesting piece of accessory, my boy," peering at his Potion Master, Dumbledore had beamed, "it is rather sad and explainable that Tom failed to notice it. I can feel the heavy protective wards and the lingering powerful magic of the caster. Though I would suggest, we should conceal it well, now that you will have to take great risks…"
Snape jerked his head in agreement and the very next moment Dumbledore's wand glowed with a steady bluish aura. Though Severus could both see and feel it around his neck, Poppy had assured that it was indeed invisible.
Placing a chaste kiss on the pendant, the lonely man muttered under his breath, "Lily it is the beginning of the end. With every passing year, we are drawing closer to the final hour. Your son had once again thwarted the Dark Lord's plan. But he is still not prepared, too emotional and unsure of his true capacities. Remus is right, I need to get the job of Dark Arts Teacher now. People believe the post is jinxed by the Dark Lord himself. I hardly care, honestly, I don't think I will live that long…" Heaving a sigh he got up on his feet. Studying the cauldrons, making sure he could really rest for a couple of hours before they needed his attention, he made his way to his bedroom.
The Slytherin Common Room had suddenly wrapped itself into this perpetually gloomy ambiance; that Severus Snape had to readdress several of his thoughts before briefing his wards. Most of the students had dared not to catch his attention, covering in groups while several of the older students were eagerly looking for excuses to blame it on the other houses for their joint misfortune. Most of the members of the vicious Inquisition Squad had stood away looking worried and jittery. All of them thought it best to keep their mouth shut aware of their House Head's cold glare and boiling temper.
Instead of heading towards the Great Hall, Severus had dropped in the library, close to dinner and picked up a couple of books, before returning to his private lab. There wasn't any sign of either Dumbledore or Umbridge. But Firenze had halted him on his way back to the dungeons.
Glancing at his left hand, the centaur whispered, " We have always found it strange when you wandered around the Forbidden Forest in search of potion ingredients, the magic in there is wilder but not so ominous. Hagrid understands that. Only Albus Dumbledore can retrieve the Former headmistress. Centaurs might not approve of him, yet they would think twice before harming him. He is after all a powerful wizard."
Whatever it was, Snape was least bothered about Umbridge's fate. He was rather keen to meet Dumbledore and deliver his report once and for all. The order of the phoenix would need it to counter several of the upcoming attacks. Right then the giant door at the entrance hall burst open, and Hagrid's worried face glistened under the flickering candle lights.
Snape narrowed his eyes when he noticed, the half-giant was standing without his overcoat, soaked to his skin with his shaggy beard and wild hair sticking to his face.
"Er, blimey, good to see you two. Right what I need,... you would do! Instead of Flinch and Miss Norris. Professor McGonagall would have been the best but I was told not to disturb her...she'll be still resting at the hospital wing...couldn't quite take him up there...if yeh would rather come to my Hut? Goodness, Merlin, I just returned and what do I find? Longbottom at the Great Lake. Legs in the air and head underwater! Fang's guarding him while I ran as fast as I could..." The man wheezed wiping his face with his sleeves.
Snape and Firenze dashed together out of the door followed by the heavy form of the gamekeeper.
When they finally made it to the half giant's Hut, they could hear Fang barking excitedly from within. There, close to the hearth, the boy wrapped in a moleskin coat and blankets sat staring at the fire blankly. He noticed Snape coming to stop beside him and cast a wandless drying spell. But before Severus could say a word, he brought out his shriveled hand and handed over a twisted piece of wrapper.
In a dazed and distant voice, the boy addressed him, "It's just an empty wrapper of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. I got enough of them to paper up my room at my Gran's cottage. Still Mum makes it a point to give me one every time I visit her at St. Mungo's. I take it even if Gran begs me to throw it away in the bin. She doesn't know why it is so important to me...and I can't tell her either. When the four death eaters had arrived at our house, Gran was away...it was just Dad, Mum and me...Mum had hidden me in this closet that concealed itself with a toy made out of several Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrappers to keep me quiet. It was the last thing she ever gave me while she was still herself..."
Staring back at him, the boy grabbed at his hand and muttered in the same vacant expression, "Would you believe it? I see her again and again wrapped in a billowing black cloak cursing my parents, and then finally inching towards me…she is always in my dreams."
When Hagrid gulped loudly and Firenze asked, "Who do you see, Mr. Longbottom?" Neville's eyes grew wide but he continued to watch Snape.
"Bellatrix wore long billowing dark cloaks, I am sure I saw her torture my parents right there on the floor. I…" big fat tears began to roll down his honey-colored eyes as he gripped harder and jerked the man forward.
Bringing his lips close to the alarmed potion master Neville whispered honestly, "I trained harder and was determined to take down Bellatrix this time. I keep promising mum each time she gives me a wrapper, I will make that witch pay. I am afraid of you sir, but more than anything, I am afraid of dark billowing cloaks, crackling shrill laughter, and heavy stomping boots…I keep hearing all that...then I started feeling her breath over my neck, I felt her wand digging into my throat. I swear sir, I wasn't planning to die, I can't afford to do something so foolish. I need to stick to my promise. Before all that I need to heal faster, get better, get back to my studies, train harder…"
Grabbing the shuddering boy by his trembling shoulder, Snape whispered softly, surprising both the Gameskeeper and the centaur standing behind him, "Mr. Longbottom, what were you doing by the Great Lake?"
"Sir, each time I dipped my head under the water those sounds died out. I could no longer hear them...I don't wish to die, Sir, I won't do something horrible. I just wish I could stop hearing those sounds for good...I wouldn't kill myself of course. It will break my Gran's heart and worse...my Mum and Dad would miss me…"Neville's grip on his arm loosened and Snape was quick enough to grab on to the unconscious boy, saving him from toppling over the blazing hearth.
Hagrid had helped him in bringing the Gryffindor back to his dungeons. But before Severus could revive him, the boy had woken up and said the most surprising thing. With beady eyes and a slurry voice he explained tilting up his ashen round face, "Sir, did you know our Potion Textbooks by Professor Arsenius Jigger are riddled with mistakes? Nothing disastrous. But mistakes. I often flip through old copies of my Dad and Mum's school books. I have seen Professor Jigger's portrait at Slugs and Jiggers at Diagon Alley...never seemed to me as a dotty man. I think he intentionally ignored to correct those mistakes. Did you know, Sir, The Invigoration Draught can be strengthened by making slight adjustments?"
Holding on to his breath, Severus watched the boy intently. He had already made sure it was Longbottom and not an imposter. Not quite within himself, Neville continued to mutter, clutching on to his lapels, a sign of nervousness, Snape had long deciphered over the years.
"Well it is true that we need, Alihotsy leaves, Dried billywig stings, Peppermint, Stewed Mandrake, Infusion of Wormwood, Honeywater, Vervain infusion, Scurvy grass and Lovage to brew the standard Invigoration Draught. But if we reduce the quantity of Alihotsy leaves, add warm honeywater and instead of Stewed Mandrake, if we add the pulp of it we will get a stronger potion, that could prolong the effect," rubbing his nose at his sleeve the boy finished.
Severus couldn't believe his ears. He could imagine Granger coming up with such innovations or even Draco if that boy could drop everything else and actually concentrate, but Longbottom! Dragging the boy into the empty classroom, he summoned all the ingredients and commanded, "Show me, prove it."
Disheveled and still out of his depths, Longbottom stared at him with wide eyes when the potion master unclasped his robes and stood over his desk with his arms crossed at his chest and gestured at the ingredients, cauldron, and flaming burner once again.
An hour later, the boy turned off the burner, after pouring a vial full of the brew and handing it over to the teacher, muttering, "It's done," Severus's eyes were glistening with pride and shame. Throughout the long process, Longbottom's arms and fingers, never shook, neither did he pale under his scrutiny. He did look up a couple of times, but he didn't flinch nor did he blanch like he usually did in his potion lessons. Every time he was done with adding an ingredient, he shifted the rest of it to the next table, a gesture Snape appreciated inwardly. His knife and his pestle worked in tune with his calm demeanor which was yet another surprising thing for Snape to witness. This version of Neville Longbottom was eerily calm, calculative, and poised mirroring the composure of an adult. He took pride in chancing upon small glimpses of Frank Longbottom in the boy and swelled at the thought, he was watching a miracle unfold in front of his eyes, a spectacular event neither Dumbledore nor McGonagall was lucky enough to witness.
Asking a house-elf to bring some refreshments, he sat down and motioned the boy to take a seat closer to his desk.
Tapping his finger over his thin lips, Severus watched him. Surprisingly the boy was neither squirming on his seat nor was he looking away. Convinced that he was still in shock, the pale wizard asked in a neutral tone, "Tell me Mr. Longbottom are there several of these mistakes in your textbook?"
Neville nodded encouragingly, "There are. Every other day I tend to come across one...though I can only catch them once I have gone through how the ingredients are procured, grown...and prepared. In short, Sir I have to rely on Herbology texts."
"And do you look for them intentionally or they just catch your attention by chance?"
The boy blushed but replied, "Sir, I don't really look for them...I started studying both Herbology and potions side by side because I figured those two were interlinked. I was always more keen on finding a remedy...something strong enough for my parents to remember themselves even for a while... long enough to recognize themselves, and also recognize Gran and me…"
As the boy sipped into his tea, Snape's mind was racing several miles per hour. How could he not see Neville Longbottom's potentials, or even consider the glaring factors- Ponoma was always pointing out how exceptionally good the student was at Herbology, yes both Flitwick and Minerva shared similar observations, "Mr. Longbottom lacks the confidence of performing a spell or a charm, though he does know the theoretical part well enough." Augusta Longbottom's totalitarian attitude towards bringing up the boy had left behind deep emotional scars. Of course, he couldn't start growing soft towards the boy all at once. That would stand out and his own students might find it revulsive. But he wanted to do something for Longbottom. Something worthy enough to keep his interest in potion alive- it was an opportunity Severus couldn't find it in himself to ignore. When the Gryffindor picked up a shortbread from the tray, the professor noticed he didn't have his wand.
"Mr. Longbottom, where is your wand?"
The boy blushed again, his cheeks growing redder than before. Self-consciously he pulled at his sleeves and mumbled, "During the Battle at the Ministry, Dolohov attacked me by surprise. Broke my nose and my wand as well, Sir." Stealing another fugitive glance he added, " Sir, would you tell Professor McGonagall…?"
Standing up gesturing the boy to follow him to his fireplace at his office next door, Severus gathered a fist full of floo powder from over the mantle and stared hard at the tall round-faced student. "If I find you wandering out of the Infirmary again, I would be forced to report it to Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore."
"I won't sir...just that…"
"Look at me," Severus hissed trying hard not to shout at the once again fumbling boy, "Keep in mind the promise you made to your mother. The rest will fall in place when the time comes."
When the boy nodded with a flicker of determination glinting in his eyes, the professor threw the powder and muttered 'Infirmary', then shoved the Gryffindor student into the green flames.
The Infirmary smelt much like itself, a smell that Severus Snape had grown up with. Many of his early Hogwarts days were spent in its confines healing from wounds left behind by spells, hexes and jinxes. The Marauders and the members of his own house took turns in torturing him. But he was not Slytherin's Peter Pettigrew. He had his self-esteem intact, he didn't think himself worthless or traitorous, needing to hide behind more powerful allies. The torture was nothing compared to his father's abuses.
So he kept his mouth shut mostly and concentrated on his studies, watching and waiting silently for the day when he would succeed in turning the tables at his many enemies. Even when his only friend had deserted him because of his own stupidity, there was one who never left his side, the castle of Hogwarts.
Standing there at the feet of those hospital beds, Severus studied the students minutely, taking a note of their healing wounds and the potions they would be needing once they woke up.
Longbottom was sleeping on his side, muttering something under his breath, quivering slightly. Without waking Poppy up from her short nap, Severus had made the boy drink some freshly brewed dreamless sleep potion. It was then that he had watched him tremble unwillingly. Even if for a short spell the boy confessed he had been tortured under the Cruciatus Curse by Bellatrix. Last year, several of his own Slytherins had joked how Neville had reacted to Imposter Alastor Moody's demonstrations of the Unspeakables. He was indeed curious how the boy had volunteered to answer in that lesson. Of course, he would harbour a twisted interest in learning more about its causes and effects.
Glancing around the hall, making sure he was not being watched, he waved his hand and watched the blanket wrap itself around the boy. He murmured softly, "Alice and Frank, you would be proud of him," then stuffed the empty blowing gum wrapper inside the boy's fist. Something hopped over his dragonhide boot and he watched in awe, Trevor, the celebrated escape artist as many of the portraits of the castle had dimmed it hopped nest to his master's head and croaked. Swirling his bulging eyes, the toad studied the potion master dispassionately for a while much like a guard. Severus shook his head and walked away thinking, at least it is particular about its role in the need of the hour.
Mr. Weasley was sleeping next to him, snoring softly. Snape blanched slightly when he thought for once what Molly Weasly would have to say for her son's escapades yesterday. They should be expecting at least one howler from the formidable matriarch. No one in their right mind should find themselves close to brains with tentacles. Weasley was just lucky to have survived. He might have hated the boy because of his lack of interest in taking academics seriously, but his loyalty towards his friend was noteworthy.
After studying both Miss Weasley and Miss Lovegood, he couldn't help himself but smirk and frown all at once. When he saw the students of his own house wrapped in bandages, sleeping on the other side of the room his face twisted in a sneer.
Miss Bulstrode and Miss Parkinson were slightly sensible, yet they too had fallen prey to the temptations of power. The empty beds next to them were previously occupied by Mr. Crabbe and Goyle. Only mere fools follow orders blindly, Snape swore under his breath. They were lucky to have sustained minor injuries. Poppy had fixed them and had sent them back to the dorms early in the morning. It ate at the potion master's conscience that most of his wards had failed to uphold the virtues of the Slytherin House. Engulfed in the illusion of house rivalry they had forgotten to recognize the real enemy.
But he did think better of Draco Malfoy. Blinded by the urge to please his father's insatiable ego, the boy had gone too far this time. He had made several discreet attempts to show the boy associating with Umbridge would prove detrimental for him in the long run. But Draco was hell-bent to prove himself to his father, The Dark Lord was not too pleased with Lucius Malfoy. Not only had Malfoy failed at acquiring the Prophecy, but had led to the capture of every death eater except for Bellatrix. Severus suspected the insane master would ask for the son to step into his father's shoes soon enough.
Peeping inside the hospital screen, he watched Hermione Granger sleeping and found he was in turn watched by her pet. The ball of orange fur and squashed face flicked his jaunty tail once and went back to slumbering at the foot of his mistress.
Since last night everything had rotated around Sirius Black. It was not unnatural that the brightest Gryffindor witch would think of the fugitive as well. But there were other things that Snape had seen in her mind which he realized he couldn't let the world know. Not now, the world was not prepared to learn how intelligent this muggle-born was.
On the request of the Dark Lord, Severus had delved into many minds. Barreling through their unguarded memories, he had in no time fished out the most vital information and delivered them accordingly to the impatient master. Voldemort would often crosscheck his findings but he did it to torture and drive his victim mad. Sieving through minds and studying its intricate web of memories had become a plaything to him, but unlike Dumbledore, he had stuck to his self-elected rules. On principle, he wouldn't peer into someone's mind without permission. He was often laughed at by fellow death eaters when he would politely whisper "May I?" into the ears of sweating and panicking, cursing, and glowering captives before slipping into their minds.
Granger's mind was nothing like a spider's web. It was warm, welcoming, homely, and felt like a walk through a well-maintained garden of the most exotic flowers. Her memories were meticulously stored in books, not according to emotions or persons or events, but a perfect mix of the whole. She was logical and a very fast thinker, which only amplified in greater degrees when Snape had peeped inside her mental library. The fluttering of books and zooming in and out of heavy tomes were additional distractions to throw a sneaking legilimens off his or her track.
No wonder Dumbledore had failed to decipher Dolohov's non-verbal spell in a short time...but then how come he had succeeded so easily? That was not all...how on earth did the semi-conscious girl deduce the mental turmoil Potter was undergoing? The young witch was smart, she was aware she couldn't guide him in understanding the actual spell. So she did the only other thing possible under the circumstances.
Staring down at the pale face surrounded by a wild halo of chestnut brown hair, Snape was taken aback when without his consent memories started flashing behind his eyes one by one. Residues of her thoughts raced in and out of his vision, broken images that he was confident he had succeeded in plucking out of his mind.
Her first clue was the single word, "Help."
Her emotions and physical pain had risen from the depths of his mind and had guided him step by step into watching how she had reacted to the curse. Severus was quick to realize Dolohov had invented an advanced slicing dark spell. The macabre display of Granger's response to the curse had brought forth several other memories. Each one of them revolving around or including Snape.
The harder he tried his mind continued to betray his commands and hooked up fresh remnants of thoughts. He was now inside the Shrieking Shack but he was not alone. No longer could he separate his own memories from those he had seen in Granger's mind, just a day ago.
Severus could distinctly remember seeing not only Remus, Sirius, the three meddlesome Gryffindors but also Peter Pettigrew in the open Marauder's Map at Lupin's office. Fear and anger had propelled him to dash out of the castle and sprint over the expense of the Hogwarts grounds under the pale moonlight, his heart hammering against his chest. He already knew who had told the Dark Lord about the Potters. But blinded by rage at the sight of Sirius Black, he tossed his chance to apprehend the traitor as well. In his misguided rage, he had forced Lupin to resign, had made Potter's life hell for the remaining weeks.
The images of Granger asking about what the wizards assembled in the Shrieking Shack were planning to do about him, her disapproving of the way Black was letting his head scrap against the ceiling of the tunnel under the Whomping Willow… her pitying his defeated stance as he bellowed at Potter in the hospital wing after Black's miraculous disappearance. OUT WITH IT POTTER! WHAT DID YOU DO?"
Staggering out of the screen, Snape lowered himself at the foot of the bed where Potter was fast asleep. Holding his pounding head in between his shaking hands, he whimpered," Why is your mind so familiar, why is your magic so soothing Miss Granger...I can't explain it...but my heart...it was rejoicing while I was there inside your mind."
Pulling his hair harder till their roots ached, he let off a soft groan and tried to catch his breath. Craning his neck he stared at Potter and felt miserable for him for the umpteenth time.
Shoving himself up from the floor, crossing over to Minerva's bed, he pulled the blanket over her sleeping form and shook his head in shame, "I wish I could stop them from attacking you." He dared not look at the enclosed section, Granger even while fast asleep had rattled him.
He could feel his throat drying up, and his lungs getting constricted. In sheer panic, he hurried across the hall to reach the hospital door. He was nearly there when Poppy came bustling from her office with a list of potions she would be needing in the next couple of days.
"Oh! Professor Snape, I never heard you come in. Strange?" handling the parchment over she went on lowering her voice, "Don't start on them, right away, Severus, you must take some rest, I INSIST! Don't make me hex you just yet," casting a glance about the room she tutted, "mere children brandishing their wands, riding thestrals, though I am just glad they are alive and safe! Good riddance we are not seeing Madam Umbridge anytime soon."
"Madam Pomphrey, do forgive me, because I am about to disappoint you once again," Albus Dumbledore appeared at the door of the Hospital wing, guiding shocked and mute Dolores Umbridge into the hall. Lowering the wide-eyed woman with twigs jutting out of her hair, robes torn and shoes missing, the headmaster turned at the potion master and smiled, "I was informed by Madam Derwent about your success in saving Miss Granger's life, and I always need to thank you, Severus, for everything else you did under the circumstances. I too would insist that you take a rest. All of us had a couple of trying nights. Worse that, some of these kids are still struggling," the old wizard flaked his eyes at Longbottom's sleeping form and nodded, "Once again, I think both Minerva and I am indebted to your presence of mind."
Snape schooled his features trying hard not to give a single hint to the Headmaster about his mental dilemma. Poppy's diagnostic spells in the meantime were hovering over the former Headmistress popped up against a stack of pillows.
Dumbledore glanced over the several sleeping forms, making sure all of them were truly asleep, and mumbled, " The Minister of Magic has finally accepted my intervention to resolve the terrible state of affairs. But you know Cornelius, sometimes he finds it too hard to understand simple sentences."
Poppy had come up to stand beside them ready to brief the headmaster, but Snape beat her to it. Sparing a hateful sneering look at the woman who had caused so much disquiet in the school, the potion master drawled menacingly, "I don't recall any potion which can treat a simple case of shock. But I think Madam Pomphery can heal our highly honorable guest in no time."
He hurried away after nodding curtly at the medi witch and the reinstated headmaster of Hogwarts with a singular purpose in mind. Albus Dumbledore should not get a glimpse of his dueling thoughts about Miss Hermione Granger. He needed to cleanse his mind and redouble the strength of his mental shields at once. Too much was lying on his thin shoulders. A single slip and the Order might end up losing the approaching war.