Chapter 3. Healing?..

Doctor MacLean frowned at his patient disapprovingly. The fever was gone; the cold had been cured by his second visit; the lacerations on his back were healing, but the boy was still in bed and didn't show any signs of being eager to get up. In fact, he was as far from eager to do anything as it probably gets. The only thing, which allowed calling his condition apathy and not catatonia, was that he answered the doctor's question – in polite and colourless monosyllables.

It was very unlike all the previous cases and in contradiction to everything Robert MacLean had come to know about the boy since his first visit four years before. Of course, that latest incident had been somewhat specific. At the very least, it had been the first emergency call – and a well-based one, though the Lord immediately confirmed the policy would stay the same – just basic healing to eliminate the danger. Doctor MacLean didn't judge his decision. The MacLeans never did, when dealing with the Snapes, whose healers they had been for centuries. So Robert MacLean simply nodded and got to work, having told the boy to be still, though it probably had gone mostly unheard because his young patient was half-conscious and obviously far from rationally cooperative. Not that he was stirring on purpose... Two hours later the doctor checked the boy's pulse and risked suggesting to give him something for pain to relieve the stress. "What's the sense of a punishment, if a painkiller follows?" Augustus Snape replied coolly and administered some heart-supporting potion. Well, it was five days before, and the boy's stay in bed was three days overdue… all right, maybe two, but he certainly should have already been up.

Doctor MacLean sighed impatiently, not trying to hide his annoyance.

"Severus Alexander Snape, I really have no time for games. But I will try again. How are you?"

"Fine."

Oh, really? "Are you in pain?"

"No."

Not quite true, but never mind. "Does anything disturb you?"

"No."

"Then why, for Merlin's sake, are you feigning a half-dead here?" the doctor asked in a sharp voice.

Closed-eyed silence.

"You are just too capricious," MacLean muttered, gathering his belongings vehemently, "the most whimsical and ungrateful child on this Earth."

"Am I?" the boy inquired unexpectedly.

The doctor dropped his bag, in which he was putting his accessories. "Of course, not!" he exclaimed.

"Then why have you told me this?" The dark gaze was searching the adult's face for something.

"Well, I…" Robert MacLean paused, suddenly uncertain. It was hard to formulate a proper answer, for some reason. "I was upset and did not know what to do with you; and it's quite unfortunate for a healer. Well… Have you never said anything you don't really think?.."

"I haven't," Severus replied shortly.

The doctor was at a loss for a moment. "It's... It is creditable," he said, at last.

"Creditable?" The boy had pronounced the word as if he didn't know its meaning. "As in good?"

"Certainly."

"Odd…" the boy whispered.

"Why so?" The doctor had completely forgotten he had been leaving.

Severus opened his mouth, as if about to answer, but immediately pressed his lips together and pulled the blanket up to his chin. "Just odd," he replied neutrally. "So… you were upset because you did not know, how to treat me, and it could harm your reputation?" The bright eyes stared at the man, unblinking.

The doctor cleared his throat, quite perplexed. "You are a very clever child, if you understand such a matter..."

To his utter surprise, the boy did not smile at the praise; instead, he sighed abruptly and lowered his eyelashes, but the doctor had time to detect a strange mixture of melancholy and humility in the black depths.

However, when Severus looked up again in a second, his eyes were calm and unreadable. "Don't worry," he said with a half-smile, which made him look older and younger at the same time. "I'll be well tomorrow, I promise. But now I am going to sleep, if you don't mind."

"Of course," the doctor spread the blanket, avoiding the boy's eyes. "Sweet dreams."

"Thank you, sir. Good-bye."

Was there a trace of irony in his little patient's voice? The doctor wasn't ready to consider this. He grabbed his bag, smiled to the boy somewhat nervously and left.

Severus closed his eyes again and tried to concentrate.

He had promised.

i Does it matter?

Yes.

The boy took an experimental breath. The air obediently came in, and it was weird because he felt absolutely and thoroughly dead.

xxx

I have promised.

Severus awoke with this thought and clung to it to drag himself out of bed and through the day. The house elves cheered openly, when he agreed to eat a little, and he smiled his thanks for their joy. The poor creatures didn't dare to break the Elder Master's orders and to utter a spare word to any human being in Shady Hall, especially him, but they didn't like to see the Young Master in distress. And it was enough to be grateful for.