Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of these characters. All of that belongs to the brilliant JK Rowling. Some parts of this fic may be taken directly from the book. I by no means intend to plagiarize. Some things are just too good to make any changes to.
A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who followed, favorite, or reviewed! Every time I see a new email I giggle with delight :) Well here is chapter 5.
Chapter 5:
Their footsteps echoed off the ancient walls of the castle. Both of the men remained silent while Professor Dumbledore led the way. Within one hour everything had changed. The halls were eerily empty and held no sound. All students were instructed to return to their dormitories, while the students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang went back to their carriage and ship. Headmaster Karkahoff fled the scene when his own dark mark burned upon his arm, now leaving the students of Durmstrang abandoned at Hogwarts.
Even with Snape being so deep in thought, he became aware that they did not ascend the staircase that would normally lead them to the hospital wing. Dumbledore, being the old and wise man that he is, sensed the slight pause that his young friend made.
"We will not be taking Harry to the hospital wing for now, Severus. I have a feeling we will not have much privacy there," the temperate dropped slightly as they made their way toward the dungeons. The sconces became less and less the further they went making the atmosphere even less inviting than the low temperature. Snape could see where this was going now, but he dare not question the man's decision at this moment.
Through a maze of dimly lit corridors, they finally made it to an aged oak door decorated with a serpent doorknocker. The potions master's presence unlocked any wards protecting his private quarters. Stepping through the threshold, a fire erupted in the grate to the right, lighting the room in a warm orange glow. The light gave away book- lined walls, a velvet red sofa, and a door straight ahead. Dumbledore floated the stretcher over to the door which opened with a flick of his wand. Ironically, Snape's quarters resembled the Gryffindor common room.
Snape followed the headmaster and ill boy into his personal potions lab. Already, Dumbledore conjured a clean white bed identical to one someone would find in the school's infirmary. Severus quickened his step to help the older man, who looked to be struggling, lower the boy from the stretcher to the bed. Even with time not exactly on Albus's side, Snape never really thought of him as an old man. His physical strength was usually more capable than lifting a small fourteen year old. All of the creases in the man's face must have deepened since the sun has gone down. The blue eyes were not sparkling in their usual way; in fact they appeared darker.
"I must go to the hospital wing to retrieve Madam Pomfrey. Her expertise is needed and I am sure she must be bombarded with questions about Harry's whereabouts as we speak," all of this was said with the headmaster's back to Snape. Dumbledore pivoted to face him and rested his weathered hands upon each shoulder, "Severus, I need you to examine Harry and start to give him potions. I know your relationship with him is less than friendly, but this is much more important than that. Please," he pleaded, " I will be back shortly."
Professor Dumbledore patted Snape on the back and left without a second look, leaving him with his least favorite student. With a lip curling sneer, he approached the bed. Guiltily, Snape enjoyed looking down on the boy while he was so vulnerable. Not even knowing where to start because everywhere was a bloody mess, he decided to rid of the blood so he could at least see what he's working with.
With a flick of his wand, the professor uttered, "scorgify," under his breath. The mud and debris left Harry's shirt and pants but the blood remained. His clothing looked as if they were freshly laundered, although the rips and tears stayed in place. Having the clothes cleaned did help the professor see where the boy was still bleeding.
Snape moved around his lab with ease, grabbing the necessary potions off the shelves. A lab table, considerate in size, stood directly in the middle of the room. Tall ceilings and the lack of a fireplace gave the feeling of less warmth than the parlor on the other side of the door. Instead of books lining the walls, vials and beakers of all shapes and sizes made the scene. Somehow the room looked bright and modern as if owned by a wealthy muggle.
Setting at least five potions on the bedside table, he measured out some blood replenishing potion into a smaller vial. Since Harry was clearly unconscious and not awaking at the moment, Snape pried his mouth open to administer the potion. Harry's skin felt cold against his professor's. The liquid was dropped all at once into his mouth. Snape turned away when he became satisfied that the potion was consumed. He repeated the same actions of measuring out the other potions into smaller bottles when he realized Harry in fact did not swallow. The blood replenisher dribbled out of the corners of his pale chapped lips.
Using a diagnostic spell, a spare bit of parchment revealed that Harry's esophagus ruptured rendering him unable to swallow. With a grunt of annoyance and thoughts of how the idiot boy could cause him displeasure even while unconscious, Snape walked across to the other side of the room. Under the shelves of potions ingredients, a drawer revealed a variety of muggle medical supplies. The professor picked out a syringe easily. The supplies contained in the drawer were most likely never touched, unless Snape put an organizing charm on the bin.
The needle of the sterilized syringe extracted the deep red potion out of the vial from Harry's bedside table. Snape rolled up the torn sleeve of Harry's shirt to find a vein, but stopped when what he saw made his blood run cold. Even through the blood coating, the angry black dark mark was visible and unmistakable since it was identical to the professor's own. Professor Snape was never one to outright show emotion, but his face now betrayed him. A bead of sweat developed on his upper lip, while the hand holding the syringe shook. He's back.
Shaking away the bombshell of information, he was able to find a vein in the crook of Harry's elbow to insert the needle. Immediately, a slight bit of pink rose to the boy's cheeks. Even with the potion working, blood seeped just as steadily through the other wounds. Picking up his wand from the table, he pointed it at Harry's burst open scar. At the moment, his head seemed to be the worst visible injury.
Mumbling every healing spell the professor had ever heard of, and still seeing no improvement, Snape hissed, "stubborn as ever, Potter," thankfully not a moment later the headmaster and Madam Pomfrey cantered through the door.
"Out of my way Severus!" upon seeing the state of Harry's well being, she nearly knocked over both men, "I'll need you to brew several potions."
Snape gladly retreated to the cauldron on his lab table. In a secret yet impressive way that only a spy could accomplish, he whispered, "there is something you must know," into Dumbledore's ear. While Madam Pomfrey frantically went to work casting spells, and shouting for potions, the two men made their way over to Snape's lab table. Snape began concocting a brew that the woman screamed for. "Potter has the dark mark," there was no easy way to break the news or disclose it lightly. Dumbledore's already lined face, creased further but made no other indication that he felt uneasy.
"Harry must remain here until he is stable… or if he'll ever be stable," a solemn expression showed on his face at those words. It bothered Snape how much Harry meant to the headmaster, "then he must be moved. I have a job for you, Severus. Voldemort has returned," Snape already knew what the headmaster was getting at. The information that the Dark Lord returned did not even give him much of a shock. After seeing the black skull and snake branding on the boy's arm, he figured that much was true. He must return to his old master and play spy again. Although the thought of returning to Voldemort's side was less than appealing, being a spy could greatly help the war that would most likely come in the near future, "Also Severus, bear in mind that Sirius Black is on his way," Snape tried to interrupt but ceased when a weathered hand held itself in front of his face, "He will come to see Harry and then reinstate the Order at a new headquarter location," Snape did not even attempt to hide his sneer, "I will need you two to be on your best behavior," some of the usual twinkle in Professor Dumbledore's eyes returned along with a small smile playing on his lips.
Snape poured the potion from the steaming cauldron with a ladle into a small vial. "Will you hurry up? I need that!" Madam Pomfrey looked as frazzled as ever with little bits of hair frizzing out from her usually tight bun. She ripped the bottle from the professor's hand with unexpected force.
Within the time when Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey arrived at Snape's private lab, and the quiet conversation they shared by the table, the matron was able to stem most of the bleeding and make Harry look almost recognizable again. The scar on his head still remained crater-like but the blood from his face had been removed. His raven hair now lay even starker against his almost translucent, blue, pale skin. Madam Pomfrey also changed the boy out of the blood soaked Triwizard jersey and jeans. She did not mention the Dark Mark on his arm that she need to have noticed by now. It was as if there were an unspoken communication between herself and Dumbledore not to mention the tattoo.
"What is his condition, Poppy?" all three stared down at the motionless boy, afraid to hear the prognosis.
"Well he's stable for now but nowhere near out of the woods yet," she spoke quickly and firmly as if damning students from going anywhere near Harry, "most of these injuries were made by dark magic that I cannot do anything about," her voice took a less harsh tone, "his scar literally burst open as you can see. That must be watched constantly for infection. And Severus, I see you used a muggle needle to administer a potion."
"Yes, he seemed unable to swallow, so the diagnostic spell I preformed revealed a ruptured esophagus," Snape answered with no pity in his voice, just pure professionalism.
Madam Pomfrey continued nodding although her eyes portrayed hopelessness. She continued with her diagnoses, "Visibly there are obvious cuts and bruises that will fade in time. I found an acromantula bite on his leg as well. The poison travelled quite far through his veins but shouldn't cause any lasting damage. Thank goodness there are antidotes for those blasted things," for a moment she looked careless as if she were treating another average quidditch injury or potion burn. Her face darkened when she looked back at Harry, "Albus, I'm sure you already saw the arm," she looked hesitantly at the professor.
"Indeed I did, Poppy," Dumbledore had bags underneath his unnaturally flat eyes. The drawn look was not becoming of the usually joyous man, "it must be hidden until the right time. It would be a great tool to use to prove to the ministry that Voldemort has indeed returned, but it can also cause something of a disaster. The last thing Harry needs is to be thrown into Azkaban."
After a thoughtful pause, Madam Pomfrey continued to name Harry's ailments, "I found a rather deep cut on his stomach," Dumbledore moved closer to the bed to get a better look. The gash looked just as angry and bloody as before, "I tried every spell and potion in the book, but it will not heal. I'll keep an eye out for infection in that as well," Poppy sighed deeply, "for now those are the injuries that I can see but I'm sure there is internal damage as well. I'll run some more diagnostic spells." She then began to bandage his head, arm, and abdomen.
"That'll be all for now Poppy. You may return to the infirmary so no suspicion is raised. Harry will be in good hands here for tonight," Snape nearly growled at Dumbledore for self inviting Potter to stay in his private quarters; unconscious or not, he did not want him there.
A/N: This story isn't going exactly where I thought it would, so in the next chapter I'll steer it back to my original plotline. Please favorite, follow, and review! As a disabled person, I find it very difficult to find motivation to write, but the reviews I've so far received have given me the encouragement, and for that I am eternally grateful.