Chapter 14
The force of Ginny's spell caused Harry to fly across the room to land in a tangle of arms and legs at the base of the stairs. From a great distance, Ginny thought she heard a noise like an egg being cracked against the side of a bowl; it somehow gave the whole shocking scenario even more of a nightmare quality, if that was even possible. She stood with her mouth open in a silent scream of horror, unable to take her eyes off the huddled form on the floor.
It was Bonnie's cries carrying from outside that brought Ginny's frozen limbs back to life, but for once, she ignored her daughter. She flew across the large kitchen and threw herself on the floor next to Harry, all the time chanting under her breath, "Please don't be dead, please don't be dead, please don't be dead..."
Harry had landed on his side, his upper arm draped lifelessly over his head, hiding his face from view. Unaware, Ginny dropped Harry's wand, and with hands that were shaking so badly she was almost incapable of coordinated movement, she grasped his shoulder and pulled him onto his back.
Where there should have been giant winged bogeys flapping around Harry's face, there was instead blood—lots and lots of blood. Ginny could see at once that Harry's nose was broken... no, not just broken, badly smashed. His lips too were in ruins and there were cuts around his eyes where, she presumed, his glasses had smashed. There was no sign of the glasses, but this detail hardly registered. She did note with a remote part of her brain that the arm Harry had landed on was bent at the elbow at a funny angle.
Ginny was aware that she was beginning to hyperventilate. Was he dead? Please God, don't let him be dead...the thought was a mantra running through her brain. She noticed, through her panic, that frothy pink bubbles were issuing from Harry's mouth. That means he's breathing...right?
Oh God, oh God oh, God! She tried to take Harry's wrist to check for a pulse, but because of her shaking hand, now somehow covered in his blood, she would not have been able to tell whether his heart was beating or not. She stared at his ruined face and watched, mesmerised as a particularly large bubble formed and then broke; she was leaning so close, she felt tiny little specks of pink froth hit her face. Ginny's relief at the sight of that bubble was immense. But just as the proof of Harry being alive almost made her faint, she registered that his breathing was definitely laboured; she could hear his breath rattling in his throat.
My, God, he'll choke to death. Instinct forced Ginny to push Harry onto his side again. She heard an awful discordant sound and realised it must be the broken ends of the bones in his arm grating against each other. She prayed she wasn't causing it irreparable damage, but she knew it was more important to keep his airway clear.
Ginny was too terrified to do anything more in case she caused more damage. Suddenly nausea overwhelmed her and holding her hand to her mouth, she jumped up, rushed to the kitchen sink and vomited. When every last foul drop of tea and chocolate milk was expelled, she rested her forehead on the cold draining board, trying desperately to stop her thoughts whirling around and around in the senseless manner they were. She needed to start thinking clearly.
Ginny kept her head down and her eyes tightly closed; the dizziness that had been threatening to engulf her since she had seen Harry's battered face wasn't quite so overwhelming when she could blank out the world like this. But as desperate as she was to stay right there until her world righted itself, she slowly became aware of Bonnie's continued wails. She must have been working herself up for a while to have reached such a crescendo. With a moan, Ginny lifted her head and tried to focus on the outdoors, but her vision was blurred by tears born of both panic and the violence of the recent evacuation of her stomach.
She had to do something... Harry could very well die while she dithered, and it would be entirely her fault. Why had she allowed her bloody Weasley temper to get the better of her? That very same temper she was quick to berate Ron for.
"Mummeee!" For some reason, Bonnie's rising hysteria seemed to suddenly calm Ginny. Well, in these circumstances, calm was relative, but her thought processes slowly started to take on a slight semblance of order. She couldn't leave Bonnie outside...the light was quickly fading and she could feel the late afternoon chill, even through the double glazing in the window over the sink.
She glanced at a still unconscious Harry; he looked so terrible, she just wanted to slump to the floor and howl. But there wasn't any time for such self-indulgence, though her heaving stomach wasn't taking any notice of this resolve and she had to swallow down another wave of nausea.
"Harreee! It's waining." Ginny swallowed down another surge of nausea and forced herself to move; she crossed the room on legs that felt as limp as overcooked spaghetti. She threw open the back door and staggered to the swing, noting distantly that it wasn't really raining, though a frigid mist was settling in. Bonnie didn't stop her caterwauling even with the appearance of her mother. Ginny tried to grab the chain of the swing, but its momentum nearly dragged her off her feet. It was apparent that Harry's charm wasn't going to cease working just because she wanted it to.
"Mumeee! Down!" Bonnie held her arms out to Ginny, but Ginny just stood there, clueless as to what she was going to do... for her daughter and for the man she loved and who needed her to keep a clear head. She put her hands on the top of her head in a gesture of total indecision and despair
What the hell am I going to do? She stood irresolute for several more seconds, and when Bonnie let out a particularly piercing shriek, she found herself operating on her last nerve, and she did something she had never done before... she screamed at her child to shut up. She found herself being vaguely aware of the terrible noise she and Bonnie between them were making, and that distant corner of her mind that was holding itself aloof from the panic that was still threatening to totally bring her undone, was thankful for the charm Harry had told her prevented any noise escaping the property.
Bonnie was so shocked at her mother's raised voice, she did shut up, though big fat tears still rolled down her reddened cheeks. "M... Mummy," she hiccoughed. "Is c... c... cold."
More tears were running down Ginny's own face; she felt terrible for screaming at her child like a common fishwife. "Baby, I know. I'll have you inside as soon as I can. But I can't stop the swing."
"Wh... where's Harry? I...I...I w—want Harreee."
Ginny swallowed. "H...Harry's asleep, baby," she said in a chocked voice. Bonnie started to sob brokenly again. Ginny rushed on, fleetingly touching her child's cold cheek as the swing came within reach.
"Bonbon, Mummy has to go back inside for a minute." Bonnie's sobs grew louder at these words, and Ginny rushed on. "But I'll be straight back out to get you off the swing. You don't want to wake Harry, do you? He's got a headache, baby." Bonnie rubbed her runny nose with the back of her mittened hand.
"You can be a brave girl for Mummy, can't you?"
Bonnie nodded, but she didn't look very sure. The earlier shrieks and screams had all been for show, but these quiet tears and quivering lips were the real thing and Ginny's heart was breaking even as her mind seemed to be fracturing under the stress and strain of the last five or ten minutes... she had no idea how long this nightmare had been playing out, but it felt like hours.
Ginny didn't wait around to try and comfort Bonnie any longer; the situation wasn't going to improve just because she wanted it to. She rushed inside and sparing a fleeting, agonised glance for Harry—he was lying exactly as she had left him—she rushed to the huge fireplace.
If she had been able to sit back and view her actions, she would have been surprised at her sudden decisiveness; she knew exactly who she had to contact and even if she was no longer in possession of her wand, she could still use the Floo to Firecall someone; she reached up to the high mantel and retrieved the beaten copper bowl of Floo Powder.
As she bent down and placed the bowl on the hearth, she reflected that this would have been the perfect excuse for contacting the Burrow; her mother would know exactly what to do. But Ginny knew the shock of finding her long-missing daughter at the other end of a Floo connection, would render Molly incapable of operating at her usual efficiency. Ginny didn't want their first meeting to take place under such appalling circumstances. After all, Harry was another son to Molly and Arthur, and the shock of finding Ginny alive and well, combined with Harry's horrific injuries would be just too cruel. She wasn't going to add to her sins.
Taking up a pinch of powder, she knelt on the thick rug Harry had positioned in front of the fireplace to save people's knees. He had once explained when Ginny had expressed concerns about flying sparks that he had 'Impervioused' the rug so there was no danger of sparks and embers setting it on fire. Thankful for the softness under her knees, Ginny threw the powder onto the low-banked fire, watched as the flames turned green and leapt high, before saying in a clear, only slightly shaky voice, "Hospital Wing, Hogwarts."
She thought she was prepared to see a person from her student days at Hogwarts, but she was wrong. When a pale, austere face surrounded by long black hair appeared at the other end of the connection, Ginny's eyes widened in shock and her throat closed over; she had certainly not been expecting to find herself confronted by Severus Snape!
HPGW
Severus, for his part managed to confine his own shock to a slight widening of his eyes. And because Severus Snape did not do utter stupefaction—thankfully, Harry had already informed him that the girl was alive and well and residing at his home—he managed to get his emotions under control quickly.
"Miss Weasley... what can I do for you?"
If Ginny didn't have other monumental concerns on her mind, she would have been surprised that Snape did not seem as shocked to see her as he should have been. Instead, she stammered, "I... I actually need M... Madam Pomfrey, P... Professor. Did I not connect to the Hospital Wing?"
"You did indeed, but Madam Pomfrey is with a student at the moment."
Ginny closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Her new found calm was rapidly disintergrating. "I... I really need Madam Pomfrey... now," she managed to choke out and even though he could not be entirely sure because the magical flames had given the girl's face the usual green tinge, Severus was sure he saw tears trickling down her face. If there was a doubt about this observation, it was nullified when a faint hiss issued when tears fell into the flames.
The fact that the girl was Firecalling Hogwarts at all, and the Hospital Wing in particular, the fact that she was visibly upset, and the unassailable fact that Harry was nowhere in sight, had Severus' well-honed instincts for trouble going into overdrive. "Miss Weasley," he said in a no-nonsense voice, "Where precisely is Mr Potter?"
Ginny's breath was coming rapidly now, and Severus watched with growing trepidation as the girl put a shaking hand up to her forehead and swayed alarmingly. "Please, Professor...he... Harry's hurt... I really need Madam Pomfrey to... to..." The next second, she disappeared from sight and the connection was lost. Severus stared at the empty grate for several shocked seconds, then, his thoughts whirling, he lurched to his feet and strode from Poppy's office and into the ward.
Poppy was standing beside a bed occupied by a wan, first year Hufflepuff. The drowsy girl's eyes, nearly shut as sleep seemed to be overtaking her, suddenly opened wide in shock when Severus bore down on Poppy.
Poppy, who was taking the girl's pulse, must have noticed a sudden increase in her heart rate, because she looked at her patient with concern. When she saw the girl was looking past her, she turned rapidly to see what had the child so agitated. The sight of her grim-faced colleague advancing down the ward, looking like a thundercloud, explained all.
She smiled at her young patient to reassure her all was well, while tucking her small hand back under the covers. She opened her mouth to suggest Professor Snape wait for her in her office, but before she could utter a sound, Severus spoke.
"I need to speak to you right away." And not waiting for a reply, he spun about and retreated, causing the young Hufflepuff to let out the breath she had been holding.
Poppy tried not to let her irritation show as she encouraged her young charge to turn over and get some sleep. The child didn't need telling twice and after a final tweak of the covers, Poppy picked up her little tray supporting two empty potion phials, and marched briskly in Severus' wake.
Poppy had known Severus Snape since he was eleven years old and she knew all his moods, most of which were a variation on surliness. She had gotten used to his less than pleasant disposition over the years, his inability to play nicely with others, but since that terrible day, two and a half years ago when Severus had almost died, his disposition had altered slightly. While a far cry from sweetness and light—it had, now that the terrible strain he had been living under for so many years, had gone—been tempered by a reluctant willingness to let in a little sunshine. Besides, being his senior by more than half a century, she had never taken any of his nonsense, and now, when she saw he had her treatment bag open on the table, she wasn't afraid to show her displeasure.
"What exactly are you doing, Severus Snape?" she demanded, bustling forward and pulling the bag towards her. She saw he was about to place some potions in the padded section.
"We need to get to Grimmauld Place as quickly as possible," he said, rather matter-of-factly, considering his set face and his earlier brusque command. "It has come to my attention that Harry Potter may be hurt."
"What are you saying? How have you come by this intelligence?" Poppy demanded, quickly going into Healer mode and giving her bag a cursory once over that she knew it did not need; Poppy Pomfrey was nothing if not totally organised. She snapped the bag shut as Severus held up the two phials as if to say, 'these would be handy'."
"This is my emergency bag, Severus. It is always set up for an emergency. Now explain what is going on!"
"I know next to nothing myself," Severus bit out, returning the potions to the cupboard before striding to the fireplace. "I will meet you at Grimmauld Place as soon as possible. Then I am sure we will both be enlightened."
Poppy watched in exasperation as Severus cast the complicated charm that opened the Hospital Wing's fireplace for Floo travel. Normally, only the head's fireplace could be used as a means of travel to and from the castle, but senior staff members could activate this fireplace in case of emergency, and without alerting the Department of Magical Transportation at the Ministry: an Albus Dumbledore innovation that had proved very useful in the days when the Order of the Phoenix had been active and Severus's spying duties, were many and varied—for both his masters.
But this time, after throwing down the powder and calling out his destination Severus found his passage blocked. For a moment, he looked confused, as did Poppy, but he quickly realised that the fireplace at the other end of the connection must have been disconnected.
It took Poppy a little longer to catch on. "What on earth... " she said, but Severus was already striding from the room.
"You'll have to Apparate," Severus called over his shoulder. "It appears Harry has disconnected his fireplace from the Floo network." He was several steps into the ward before he suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned back to address Poppy again.
"Minerva had best be informed. We might need extra hands." And before Poppy had a chance to question him further, Severus strode off again, almost running as he left the Hospital Wing. Shaking her head in exasperation, Poppy nonetheless knelt in front of her fireplace and called for the headmistress' office; that connection worked perfectly well.
GWHP
Ginny's return to awareness was gradual; the first sensation was severe discomfort. As she tried to lift heavy eyelids, she came to the slow realisation that she was lying half across a cold, unyielding surface and the other half of her was draped over the slightly more forgiving nubby surface of something a little softer. Increased awareness bought increased discomfort; her head, upper torso and arms were angled downwards across what she now realised was a rug, while her lower torso and legs lay twisted upon a step of brick or stone. How, in the name of Merlin, had she ended up in such a position? Then, along with her ability to open her eyes and blink dazedly at a ceiling, came grim realisation.
"Oh, my God!" Ginny scrambled to try and sit up. But this was easier said than done, considering her awkward position. As she struggled, she hissed in a pained breath as the sharp edge of the hearth dug into the bare skin of her flank, where her jumper must have ridden up.
I must have fainted, she thought dazedly as she finally, gracelessly, managed to sit up. That was when she became aware of the extreme cold and Bonnie's pitiable wails, both of which flowed through the back door, which, following a quick glance, Ginny realised was standing open. After clambering to her feet, she had to lean against the edge of the fireplace and close her eyes against a wave of dizziness that was testing her newly-won conscious state.
When she finally reopened her eyes, her line of sight fell on Harry's huddled form where he still lay, unmoving, in front of the landing. Fresh horror at the whole of the catastrophe that had befallen them, threatened to cause her legs to buckle again. She had contacted Hogwarts for help and had tried to speak to Madam Pomfrey; instead, she had found herself stuttering out what she was sure had been a sadly incoherent explanation, to Snape of all people.
She had no choice, she would have to try again. But first, she needed to try and calm Bonnie. As she moved on remarkably shaky legs, Ginny had taken several steps towards the back door when her foot came into contact with something that went skittering across the floor.
Ginny saw it was Harry's wand and she bent to pick it up. She looked at it dispassionately—this was the cause of her present predicament. No, that wasn't true, her temper was the cause of her present predicament; her temper and Harry's stubbornness.
Unable to think about Harry and what she had done to him, she hurried into the garden as fast as her unsteady legs would allow. At the sight of her mother, Bonnie's cries once again escalated in volume and intensity. Her eyes were liquid bright and tears tracked down her face; her cheeks were red and chapped from a combination of the cold and salty tear tracks. Ginny tried to pacify her child while attempting to convey that she had the situation well in hand.
She looked down at the wand in her hand; dare she use it? No, it was too big a risk. Sure, when she had used it against Harry, she had been angry, but since when did that affect her ability to cast the Bat Bogey Hex. Usually, the more angry she was, the more impressive the results of the hex were. It had been her signature move and others had learned to tread carefully around her, lest they become a victim. She looked at the wand again. No, there definitely seemed to be something funny about this wand. If there was any risk that something might happen to Bonnie, then there was no way she could contemplate using it to cast a simple 'Finite'.
What she needed to do was stop dithering. She wanted to scream out loud at the series of mishaps that had piled one on top of the other. The fact that she had a perfectly good wand in her hand but was too afraid to use it just added insult to injury. But she couldn't take the chance.
Making up her mind, Ginny said in a determinedly strong voice, "Mummy will be back in a minute, Bonbon," and knowing hysteria was sure to follow this announcement, and Gryffindor bravery be damned, she rushed back inside. Sure enough, Bonnie's screams reached a crescendo within seconds. The fireplace was once again Ginny's destination and once there, she looked blankly at the empty space on the mantel where the container of Floo Powder usually resided; then she remembered she had placed it on the hearth before her last disastrous Firecall.
She knelt and took up another pinch of powder, but before she could throw it onto the banked flames, the sound of a loud crash carried from upstairs, and she froze. When running footsteps thundered along the hallway and then down the stairs, Ginny staggered to her feet; all she could do in her terror was allow the glittery powder to trickle through her fingers onto the hearth and raise Harry's wand with a sweaty, shaking hand.
Her heart was in her throat and she thought she might pass out again when a tall, black-robed figure appeared in the aperture, only just managing to pull himself up short on the small landing before he stepped off and trampled Harry underfoot.
HPGW
Severus found himself facing a petite, wild-eyed, wild-haired redhead who had a wand pointed at him, albeit in a hand that shook so violently, it was as if she was in the grip of an ague. He put his hands out, palms facing outward in a placatory gesture, faced as he was with a terrified, but armed adversary, Severus did not have time to take much in, other than the huddled figure at his feet, and a child screaming from the back garden.
"Miss Weasley," he said, in as calm and soothing a voice as he could muster, considering a clearly unconscious and bleeding Harry Potter lay at his feet. "It is I, Professor Snape. Please put the wand down. I'm here to help." If Ginny heard, she gave no indication, the wand remained trained on Severus, but the shaking became even more violent.
"MUMMEEE!" Ginny's head snapped towards the back garden and in less than a heartbeat, Severus had his own wand unsheathed and had disarmed the girl before she could face forward again. Ginny cried out and shook her hand to try to dispel the stinging the Professor's Disarming hex had caused. With a sob, her legs folded and she sat down hard on the hearth.
Severus ignored her and the screaming child for the moment while he knelt beside Harry and gently turned him over. The ravaged face caused him to hiss in a shocked breath. Bringing his wand into play again, Severus siphoned off the dried blood so that he could better see the extent of the damage. It was, as he had feared because of the boy's unconscious state, quite extensive.
Anger now mixed with concern; he couldn't begin to imagine what had happened here. Had someone broken in and attacked the saviour of the Wizarding World? Unlikely, because surely the girl and her child would also have been hurt, and if the din coming from the back garden was any indication, the child was hale and whole... at least her vocal cords were.
Severus did not want to attempt any sort of treatment without Poppy's supervision. Instead, he pointed his wand at an empty mug on the sink and transfigured it into a pillow, repeating the procedure with another mug to produce a warm blanket. He covered Harry, taking care not to jar the obviously badly broken arm, and then with even more care, he inserted the pillow between Harry's head and the unforgiving flagstones.
Having done all he could for the casualty, Severus' concentration broke when the screaming from the garden overwhelmed his senses. A glance out the window revealed a small child on a swing that was moving in a regular arc without any external force being applied. Severus turned to Ginevra who seemed to be in another world entirely. She was staring straight ahead and seemingly ignoring his presence entirely; unlike when he had first entered the room and she had threatened him at wand point.
He crossed the kitchen and squatted in front of the young woman he had last seen in one of his final Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons before the terrible events that had marked the end of the school year of 1997 had overtaken all of Wizardkind.
"Miss Weasley." Severus had to repeat his salutation but finally, slowly, huge brown eyes gave up their distant stare across the kitchen and focused—albeit with a little difficulty—on his face. But other than a lazy blink, there was no other response to his quietly spoken words. If she recognised him, she gave no indication.
Damn! He did not want to be the one to rescue the child from the swing—Severus most definitely did not do infants—because she appeared to be quite hysterical enough without having a strange man descend upon her.
Clucking his tongue in frustration and reaching out, he touched Ginny's hand, only to discover that she was chilled to the bone, despite being so close to the fire. Resigned to the inevitable, he dealt with the young woman first. He took a handkerchief from his pocket and transfigured it into another blanket. Then he levitated Ginny, and when she was supine on the rug, he tucked the blanket around her before pointing his wand at the magically banked fire, causing the flames to leap into exuberant life. He knew the fireplace was charmed to prevent any flying sparks, so he had no qualms about leaving the girl lying so close to the fire. Both the young people were in shock, so the heat was essential, as was getting that child indoors—surely, she must be half frozen to death—and the door closed against the elements.
Severus would dearly love to know why Ginevra had not rescued her child from the swing and the extreme cold. The swing was charmed to keep moving, yes, that was obvious, but the girl had a wand. Severus spied the wand close by and he bent to pick it up. He saw immediately that it was Harry's, and was no doubt responsible for the charmed swing. He then recalled that Harry had told him that Ginevra no longer had a wand, but a simple 'Finite' performed with a foreign wand should not have been beyond the capabilities of someone, Severus remembered clearly, had been a talented young witch.
Shoving the conundrum to the back of his mind for the moment, Severus knew there was no longer any choice in the matter; he would have to rescue the distraught child himself. His conscience would not allow him to leave her out in the cold until the witches arrived. Pocketing Harry's wand, Severus placed himself where he could not be seen, but had himself, a clear line of sight; then using his own wand, he cast a gentle 'Somnulus' charm, and watched as the child's pitiable wails slowly lessened in volume before petering out entirely, and the small head fell forward.
Only now did Severus stride into the yard; he cast a 'Finite' to stop the swing and then found he had to cast a second to counter a sticking charm. He lifted the tiny, half frozen body into his arms and had just re-entered the house when Poppy and Minerva appeared on the landing, where, like him, they had to pull up short or trample Harry where he still lay.
Both witches gaped at the incongruous sight of their colleague with a young child in his arms. But as fascinating as that vision was, Poppy's immediate concern was at her feet and clucking her tongue with a combination of worry and irritation that Harry Potter was once again in need of her expertise, she quickly knelt to ascertain the extent of the young man's injuries. Minerva, sparing a worried glance for Harry, stepped around him and Poppy and crossed the large kitchen to Severus' side.
"Severus, what on earth... who on earth..."
"I am as much in the dark as to what transpired here as you are, Minerva. But as to 'who on earth, this is the child of Ginevra Weasley." And he gestured towards the fire where Ginny had turned on her side and pulled the blanket more tightly around herself. Minerva gaped again as she recognised the young woman whom all had feared dead.
"And in case you're wanting to know the how of it... if my memory serves, Potter located the girl weeks before Christmas. And I know little else, other than the fact that Harry took her in because it was becoming untenable for her to continue living in the Muggle world with a child whose wild magic was becoming uncontrollable."
"What do you mean, 'living in the Muggle world'?"
"Precisely what it sounds like, Minerva. She left the Wizarding World to go and live as a Muggle. Now, if you wouldn't mind..." and Severus passed the small bundle across before Minerva realised what was happening, "this is, as the Muggles would say, 'so not my scene'."
Minerva looked into the sleeping child's face without really seeing her; she was still reeling from Severus' revelations and the sight of a semi-conscious Ginny Weasley. But the damp chill seeping through her robes from the little girl's clothing quickly bought her back to the problem at hand.
"Severus," she chided. "She is wet through." She strode to the table.
"Conjure something warm and soft," she ordered, her latent maternal instincts coming to the fore.
Severus raised an amused eyebrow, but he did as he was ordered. "Never let it be said that Severus Snape would tarry in performing any task asked of him by a woman in the grip of a heretofore hidden, protective, maternal streak." A soft, padded blanket upon which he cast a warming charm was spelled onto the table for Minerva to place the floppy child upon.
Not wanting to take the time that would be needed to divest the little one of her wet outer garments by hand, she spelled the waterproof jacket, fleecy pink tracksuit pants, one tiny polka dot, waterproof boot (she had no idea where the other one was), bobble hat, mittens and socks off with one encompassing sweep of her wand. A mauve knitted jumper patterned with different coloured tulips and a tiny pair of yellow knickers sporting an image of a human female figure with tiny wings...perhaps a Muggle's interpretation of what a fairy looked like, were the only articles of clothing left on the little girl.
Other than taking in this entirely erroneous, though admittedly, cute image, Minerva cast a warming charm over chilled skin and a drying charm over the dark blonde hair that, when the moisture was removed from it, sprang into moonlight blonde, corkscrew curls. Severus, who had watched this whole operation, had his worst fears realised, and he groaned internally...surely this child had to have Malfoy blood running through her veins.
"Minerva." Poppy's voice carried across the silence. Minerva turned towards the matron, keeping her hand on Bonnie's chest in case she awoke. "We have to get Harry to the Hospital Wing," she stated in a voice that told the others that it was imperative they get moving quickly.
"I have taken care of his superficial facial injuries. But he has a severe concussion and most likely a fractured skull. Combined with the pulverised nose and his badly broken arm, he needs massive doses of Skelegrow. He will need close observation, both because of the concussion, and because of the amount of Skelegrow he will need to ingest. When he regains consciousness..." she refused to consider that Harry would not regain consciousness, "he will feel very ill."
Poppy grimly continued with her recital of Harry's injuries. "He also has cuts on his eyeballs, no doubt from broken glasses, because unless he didn't have them on at the time he was injured, then they definitely would have been broken."
It seemed that the matron was finished for the moment—indeed, she had regaled them with enough bad news to keep them going for a while—and she focused instead on what Minerva was doing. She had forgotten, in the stress of the moment, exactly what she had seen Severus holding when she and Minerva had entered the kitchen. Now, she hurried across to the table to view its tiny occupant more closely. "Who does she belong to?"
"This Poppy," replied Minerva, "is Ginny Weasley's daughter... or so I am led to believe."
Poppy's shock was every bit as profound as Minerva's had been. She stepped closer to the table and studied the little girl. "She's never," she whispered, reaching out a gentle hand to touch the child's hair. Severus watched as the war-hardened matron immediately fell under the little one's spell and he rolled his eyes when even Minerva finally allowed herself a soppy smile.
Finally, Poppy spoke again; for the moment, it seemed as if the casualty lying on the floor with his extensive injuries was forgotten, despite the matron insisting that they needed to get to Hogwarts as expeditiously as possible. "But Ginny Weasley has been missing for a long time, has she not? I thought she was considered to be dead."
"It would appear we were all a little too quick to consign Miss Weasley to the grave," said Severus impatiently, and Poppy turned her head to give him a narrow-eyed glare. She made ready to open her mouth to berate the young man for his insensitive attitude, but Severus didn't allow her to get up a head of steam as he continued in the same vein.
"And while she is far from dead, I do believe she would, at this point in time, benefit from your expertise, Poppy." And he gestured towards the fireplace where Ginny appeared to have succumbed to sleep, despite the voices and activity going on around her.
"Oh, my..." whispered Poppy, clearly caught off guard, but immediately springing into action, nonetheless. With another patient to tend, she left Minerva to deal with her own charge.
Minerva wasted no more time; she transfigured the jumper into a thick, fleecy, all-in-one sleep suit. As she did up the zip and then checked that little toes weren't constricted by the fleecy feet, Severus watched the performance with some amusement and not a little surprise.
"You amaze me, Minerva," he said. "How in the name of Merlin, do you know what infants wear?"
It was Minerva's turn to shoot her smirking colleague a narrow-eyed glare. "I have great nieces and nephews, Severus Snape, as I know you are aware. And I very much enjoy visiting and closely interacting with them."
"To each his own," drawled Severus in an undertone. Minerva did hear him, she just chose to ignore him as she finished making sure Bonnie was warm and comfortable. Then she conjured a railing around the padded blanket to prevent the child falling if she did happen to wake. Which reminded her...
"What kind of sleeping enchantment did you cast on her, Severus?"
"Just a feather-light Somnulus Charm. She will be easily roused by anyone who puts in an effort to awaken her.
"Good." Minerva turned towards Poppy. "How is Miss Weasley, Poppy?"
Poppy clucked her tongue and stood up from where she had been examining Ginny. "I cannot find anything physically wrong with her, but I can't get any verbal response from her either. I know she can hear me, but, for reasons only she is aware of, she is choosing to shut herself off."
At Minerva's worried look, Poppy waved a hand to indicate she was not overly worried. "I am sure she will be fine, Minnie. Whatever has occurred here today has affected her deeply. Her body is crying out for rest; it is telling her to isolate her mind for a while until she is better able to cope with the trauma.
"She is aware of what I am saying though, because when I told her her daughter and Harry were both being well cared for, she seemed to relax considerably and then she closed her eyes. I believe she has now slipped into what I hope will be a therapeutic sleep."
Minerva looked around the kitchen. There were no overt signs that violence had taken place, other than Harry's injuries, and she wondered again what had transpired. She watched as Severus spied and picked up Harry's broken glasses from where they had come to rest on the floor near the sink. He pocketed the offending article.
"Perhaps," he said with a sigh, "we had better set about transporting these casualties of war to Hogwarts."
"Yes," agreed, Minerva. "An exercise that is going to require planning and care."
"Indeed."
GWHP
In the end, Minerva and Severus between them, managed to break through the enchantments on Harry's Floo and open it for travel. Poppy carried Ginny, upon whom a Feather-light Charm had been cast, through the connection and Minerva followed with Bonnie. Severus, who had been given entirely unnecessary instructions to take great care with Harry, whose neck and arm had been magically immobilised, followed with his own lightened burden.
The new arrivals were placed in two separate private rooms that were usually set aside for sick staff members. Minerva had widened the bed in Ginny's room and placed her daughter next to her, adding railings for extra protection. The headmistress watched mother and child with a furrowed brow, and her vigil was rewarded when Ginny finally become aware enough to realise a small body now lay beside her. The age-old mothering instinct kicked in and with a shuddering sob, Ginny placed a possessive arm around her child and cuddled her close, burying her nose in the sweet smelling blonde hair.
Minerva felt herself tearing up, but she made very sure Severus, who had joined her in the side ward, did not see her sudden weakness; she busied herself pulling the dislodged covers up over the shoulders of mother and daughter. She had decided it was wise to keep the child under the sleeping charm for the time being; hopefully, eventually, Ginny would rouse enough to care for her daughter herself.
Severus was nothing if not observant, and he had seen how Ginevra had gathered her daughter close, despite not being totally aware of what was going on around her. He had also seen Minerva's emotional response and immediately decided it would be best to pretend ignorance, as his life would not be worth living in the short term if he made any reference to said episode. He crossed to one of the windows looking down upon the front of the castle where the members of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team were making their way indoors; no doubt they would be heading into the Great Hall to partake of the evening meal, their appetites considerably sharpened by their recent activities. Severus was not entirely sure these endeavours would save them from the ignominy of ending the year bottom of the ladder; though he couldn't help but admire their dedication.
Satisfied that these two at least were on the road to recovery, Minerva and Severus waited in the office for Poppy to finish with Harry. They had a clear view of the door to Harry's room and Minerva was on her feet when the matron left her patient and entered her office. Severus also stood, albeit in his own time; it would not do for him to be seen to be too anxious over the fate of one Harry Potter; after all, he had an image to uphold.
"How is he, Poppy?" asked Minerva anxiously.
Poppy's lips were set in a very thin, very grim line. "His nose was practically pulverised," she bit out. "His left cheekbone was fractured and there was a hairline fracture of the left temporal region of his skull. All of that, combined with his arm, which was broken in three places, will require massive doses of Skelegrow. I have already administered the first dose. When he regains consciousness, he will be very nauseous.
"But there is some good news amidst this litany of unpleasantness: our Mr Potter's conscious state is lightening."
"Thank heavens," breathed Minerva.
"And his eyes?" asked Severus, his face carefully blank.
"I am certain his vision will not be affected; the cuts are all superficial."
"Yes," drawled Severus, his own relief well hidden. "Merlin forbid Potter's eyesight should get any worse."
"Severus!" Poppy and Minerva exclaimed together. Severus's smirk grew, earning him a sniff of disapproval from Poppy and a glare from his employer.
Poppy bustled out of the office again, needing to check that her other two new charges were comfortable. Then she would need to check her lone Hufflepuff, who had been watched over by the House-elf ward-helper, Florin, while she had been absent. Poppy knew the happy circumstance of having only one student to care for wouldn't continue indefinitely when three hundred-odd students, all sporting wands, were, more often than was desirable, running amok within the castle.
HPGW
Minerva insisted that Severus accompany her to the Great Hall where they would just be in time for a quick bite to eat before the elves closed the kitchen. But more importantly, she wished to be seen in her customary place at the head table. Even though it was probable that most of the students would have already eaten and left, some would see her in her usual place. It was a point of honour with her that she partook of at least two meals a day in the company of her charges, and she was adamant that the Heads of Houses did the same. She had always kept herself visible, wanting her staff and students alike to know she was available if anyone needed her.
Severus kept his thundercloud glower in place, as was normal and he ran a practiced eye over the students remaining at the Slytherin table. Sanderson Greilly, the Head Boy, was still there, keeping a surreptitious eye on all the students because his Head of House and the headmistress had both been, very unusually, absent. Now, Severus indicated to Greilly that he could leave if he wished, and though the young man nodded and departed, Severus was sure he wouldn't go straight back to the Slytherin Common Room. Being a dedicated Head Boy, he would patrol the corridors to check that no miscreants were out and about doing what they shouldn't be doing, and also checking that the prefects on duty were doing what they should be doing.
"So, Severus," said Minerva, when they were both tucking into plates of delicious roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. "Are you sure there is nothing further you can add to the conundrum that is Ginevra Weasley? Harry didn't tell you anything else?"
Severus swallowed his last mouthful of food before wiping his mouth with a pristine white napkin. Before answering Minerva, he raised his stemmed glass and took a hearty swallow of the robust red wine he had poured as soon as he had seated himself, and before his dinner had popped into existence. Minerva took up her own glass and took a more refined sip; it helped to occupy her while she waited impatiently for Severus to speak.
"I have told you all I know, Minerva," he said, "All Harry told me, in fact. And I doubt very much that Harry will be overly chuffed with me for broadcasting what he told me in confidence."
"I feel the circumstances surrounding your disclosures will negate any anger Harry will feel." Keeping a beady eye on two Ravenclaw fifth years who were good-naturedly shoving each other as they passed the staff table, Minerva tutted in is so frustrating."
"Indeed."
"Have you no theories?"
Severus drained his glass and poured another generous measure of wine. Minerva watched him and looking between her glass and the remainder of her meal, she threw restraint to the winds and gulped the rest of her wine. Severus smirked as he refilled her proffered glass.
"I would much prefer a whisky," stated Minerva longingly. Severus raised his eyebrows and after a quick glance around to make sure the few stragglers in the hall were not taking any notice, he tapped Minerva's glass with his wand, before repeating the action on his own.
Minerva peered at the deep burgundy liquid, turned amber and took a sip. She closed her eyes and savoured the slow burn as the liquid velvet flowed down her throat and settled warmly in her stomach. "Well done, Severus," she said appreciatively.
Severus sampled his own tipple with equal appreciation and they allowed a few minutes for the spirit to calm their overwrought emotions.
"This hits the spot after all the excitement."
"And yet, all the whisky in the world is not going to enlarge the fount of my knowledge," drawled Severus with irritating logic. "But even if I did know more, it is not my story to tell."
Minerva was not happy with this pronouncement but knew there was little she could do. Still... "Well, one has to assume she is living at Grimmauld Place with Harry?"
"In a purely platonic arrangement," Severus emphasised, ignoring his own stricture of moments ago, feeling he had to shield Harry from any hint of impropriety. After all, when Harry had spoken to him, this was definitely the impression he had given. Though Severus had easily read between the lines and he was sure that Harry would have liked nothing better than to have a closer bond with Ginevra than that of landlord and tenant. This he did keep to himself.
Minerva was like a dog with a bone. "You make it sound as though Arthur and Molly are not aware of their daughter's miraculous return from the dead," she observed.
Severus sighed. What could he do?"I believe that was the case five days ago," he said reluctantly "I have no idea how things stand at the moment, however, but I'm sure we would have heard the news from Charlie if the girl was reunited with her family."
"But this is untenable," bit out Minerva. "How in the name of Merlin are we to interact with Charlie knowing his sister is not only alive but is residing in the castle at this moment?"
"It isn't going to be easy, but we have to remain silent until we see what the girl wishes to do."
Minerva exhaled noisily through her teeth; she did not like being in the middle of a situation over which she had no control. Ginny was an adult, a mother, and her secrets were her own; she knew she could not expose the girl to her family without her cooperation.
"Perhaps when the girl becomes more aware of her current situation, she'll decide that this is an opportunity for her to take the first step towards a reconciliation."
"But why did she leave in the first place?" burst out Minerva.
"Have you forgotten the small child you cared for and then transported here?"
"Of course I haven't forgotten."
"And during your burst of maternal activity, did you not look at said child and notice a resemblance to a certain ex-Slytherin student of this school?"
Minerva closed her eyes and shook her head. After a minute of quiet, but clearly troubled thought, she put her elbow on the table and rested her cheek on her hand, her head turned to regard her drinking companion. "Can it be true?" she asked in an appalled whisper.
"I have never known anyone other than Narcissa Black Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy and their son to have hair that particular shade of blonde," said Severus darkly. "It is a blessing that the child has her mother's warm, brown eyes and not the pale grey that would mark her unmistakably as a Malfoy.
"The hair colour can perhaps be written off as an early childhood trait... Isn't it normal for many young children to be quite fair, only for their hair to darken as they mature?"
"Perhaps so," replied Minerva, irritably, and she shot her young colleague an 'are you completely thick', look. "There is one major problem with your theory, Severus. I can remember Ginevra and Mr Malfoy being a hot topic of gossip in the staffroom for several weeks before other, more serious and far-reaching events pushed their liaison from our minds. It may well be that that young girl is Draco Malfoy's daughter."
As much as he might wish to dispute this possibility, Severus could not; his own memories of that time were as vivid as Minerva's.
TBC...