Title: Unexpected Grace
Author: Cocoa-Snape
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs exclusively to JKR...she is a goddess. I am making no money from this.
Acknowledgement: Thank you JKR for my 2 borrowed lines from GoF!
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Unexpected Grace by Cocoa-Snape
Chapter 5: The morning after
Albus Dumbledore sat solemnly at his desk, nibbling at the jammed toast the house elves had brought him for breakfast. He knew it was nearly 7 o'clock, having just checked the time a few minutes ago, but he took out and examined his watch again. While his 12-handed pocket watch may have been able to tell the Headmaster many more things than the time, it could not tell him what he really wanted to know at this very moment.
Dumbledore could feel the exhaustion in his tired body from missing a whole night's sleep – his mind, on the other hand, was racing still. It had been a catastrophic night to say the least. He had spent the first of it with Harry, who had relayed the nightmarish ordeal he had suffered at the now resurrected Voldemort's hands. Dumbledore had gently gathered as many details from Harry as he could in order to understand what had happened. But truth be told, the retelling had been more for Harry's benefit, as Dumbledore knew too well the dangers of having the boy hide from what had transpired.
Unfortunately, Harry's suffering had not ended in the graveyard. His abduction by Moody – who turned out not to be Moody after all – had further scarred the overburdened youth. The presence of an imposter in Hogwarts had forced Dumbledore to reexamine his ethical considerations regarding his use of subtle Legilimency. Sadly, he reflected, they were now at war again, and it did not do to make assumptions any longer.
Once he had made sure that Harry was settled in the hospital wing, under the nurturing eyes of the Weasley family and dosed with Dreamless Sleep Draught, Dumbledore set about making the necessary preparations. Despite his efforts, his meeting with Minister Fudge had gone as badly as he had anticipated. Following his conversation with Hagrid and Madame Maxine, he had spoken with Arthur Weasley and asked him to contact the relevant Order members. Sirius Black had gone off to secure his mother's house and to arrange for its conversion into the Order's new headquarters, as had been their plan.
However hectic the evening had been, by 2 am when the frenzy died down, Dumbledore found himself desperate for something to occupy his mind. All that he had left to do since then was wait…and worry about Severus, who had still not returned. After the tragic loss of one of his students – each of whom he considered his children – he now faced the rather alarming possibility that he could lose another, but this one, on his orders.
His mind could not help but drift back to the most difficult thing he had had to do in a very long time.
'Severus, you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready…if you are prepared…'
'I am,' Snape replied.
Dumbledore vaguely remembered staring at the door Severus had exited for many minutes before he had been able to compose himself. He had known that this was coming. So had Severus. They had plunged together through the labyrinth of alternate options – all were dead ends. And so they had prepared – urgent conversations over tea, hushed meetings in the halls, developing strategies and contingency plans. And of course there had been the months of Occlumency lessons. Each man was resigned to the gruesome reality that lay ahead. And yet, when the time had come, Dumbledore found he was unprepared as ever. More distressingly, Dumbledore knew Severus was little more ready than he.
No one else was likely to have noticed it on his Potions Master's perfectly disciplined countenance, but Dumbledore had seen the flicker of fear in his eyes. They were bound by the thread of uncertainty. Nothing assured; everything at stake. Both had been overwhelmed and had hesitated. Together and apart, they had both grieved the moment. They were bound and yet they were separated, each having his own role to play. Together and apart…Dumbledore wondered if this was a primer of things to come.
Dumbledore's oppressive thoughts were interrupted by the entry of someone past his outer wards. Sensing the hasty movements on his staircase, Dumbledore opened the oak door for his visitor with a wave of his hand. Hagrid came charging in, his face flushed, his manner flustered, his breath ragged.
"What is it Hagrid?" Dumbledore asked quickly.
"It's Professor Snape, sir. I took 'im to Madam Pomfrey. She told me to come get yeh."
"What happened?" Dumbledore asked, finding himself already moving down his stone steps, towards the infirmary.
"I don't know. Fang found 'im on the forest's edge. Looks like he was crawlin' towards the grounds."
"Did anyone see you?"
"No sir. No one's up yet. Not after las' night," Hagrid said, referring to what had been a very late night for all.
Noting that Hagrid was struggling to keep up with his pace, he spoke over his shoulder, "Hagrid, please go fetch Professor McGonagall and have her meet us in the hospital wing."
"Yes sir," Dumbledore heard Hagrid call distantly as he had already increased his gait.
When Dumbledore arrived in the infirmary, he found, not unexpectedly, that Severus was not in any of the beds in the main room. He made his way to Madam Pomfrey's office, which adjoined the private rooms in the back. As he made his way past the rows of sleeping warders, he hoped that Severus's absence here was more a sign of Madam Pomfrey's discretion than of Severus's condition.
But it was not to be. Without breaking his stride, Dumbledore waved the door at the farther end open. At that same moment, Madam Pomfrey entered from the other side. But she ignored him, grabbing instead a box from inside her desk drawer and an armful of potions from her cabinet. As she gathered the rest of her supplies, she said simply, "Wait here for me."
Dumbledore could tell from her behavior – cold and methodical – that Severus was in trouble. Though Poppy Pomfrey's hysterical fussing annoyed many a patient, it usually meant their condition wasn't too serious. When a real emergency arrived before her, she was all business.
"What's happened Albus?" McGonagall asked breathlessly as she entered the office with Hagrid close behind.
"I'm afraid, Minerva, that my knowledge on that point is all too limited. Poppy is seeing to him now and she has requested that we wait here in the meantime." As he said this, Dumbledore sank heavily into Pomfrey's chair.
"Does anyone else know?" McGonagall asked.
"No. And until we know what happened, that is as it should be."
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Dumbledore was aware that he appeared rather calm sitting motionless behind Poppy's desk, waiting for her return. But inside he felt just as nervous and terrified as Hagrid and McGonagall looked. Minerva was pacing in very tight circles given the narrow confines of the office. Her pace quickened every so often such that Dumbledore thought she might break into a run at any moment. Hagrid, on the other hand, who was seated in the corner in a chair much too small for him, kept standing up and muttering unintelligibly as if he'd forgotten something. But a moment later, he would sit back down just as abruptly, wiping his sweaty brow with his oversized handkerchief.
Poppy emerged, just under two hours later, exhaustion riddled on her face.
"Is he going to be alright?" Dumbledore asked immediately, getting to his feet.
"I don't know," she replied sadly.
Nothing could have prepared Dumbledore for those words. He stared at the medi-witch silently, but McGonagall cut in angrily, asking the question Dumbledore was too afraid to ask.
"What in Merlin's name does that mean? How can you not know?"
"I've done everything I can do for him at the moment."
Pomfrey noticed Dumbledore glancing at the door and she continued, "He's asleep right now. I've cast a charm to alert me if he wakes. The good news is that I was able to heal most of his injuries."
"And those were?" McGonagall asked. Dumbledore was suddenly glad Minerva was there, because he found it difficult to speak.
"Internal bleeding, multiple fractures, broken ribs, lacerations, a concussion," Pomfrey listed.
McGonagall gasped.
"All of which I've treated him for and unfortunately are not the greatest cause of concern at the moment."
"There's more?" McGonagall asked in shock
But Dumbledore had already guessed at it. He felt the knowledge viscerally as an aching wave that crested in an enormous lump at the base of his throat.
"He's suffering severe Cruciatus overdose. Based on the Healers I've consulted at St. Mungo's, they believe he was under the curse repeatedly, perhaps for minutes at a time."
"Merlin, no," McGonagall exclaimed, voicing what Dumbledore could not.
The unimaginable had occurred, and Dumbledore was left wondering how it could be so. They had taken precautions. He had given Severus an amulet to wear, a portkey of sorts, that would have transported him to safety at the slightest touch. They had prearranged it, just in case Voldemort had not believed Severus's pledges of loyalty and in the event Severus was too weak to Apparate or Voldemort had placed anti-Apparition wards that prevented his escape. Dumbledore could not understand why Severus had not used the amulet in the face of such torture, but realized sorrowfully that perhaps the effects had overwhelmed him – his mind, his muscles – such that he had been unable to activate the amulet around his neck.
With some reluctance, Dumbledore raised himself from this sea of questions, deep enough for any swimmer to lose himself. The situation at hand was too pressing, too urgent for anything less than his utmost concentration. And so Dumbledore shook himself from his musings about the causes of this tragic event, and instead focused his whole attention on the trials of the present and on the future he so desired, his friend's sanity and recovery.
"St. Mungo's has a bed waiting for him," Pomfrey continued. "They say we should move him there."
"What can they do?" Dumbledore asked, finding his voice again.
Pomfrey began hesitantly, "Well, at the moment, nothing more than we can. But he's going to need constant attention, Headmaster, and we don't have the staff for that."
Dumbledore and McGonagall followed Poppy's gaze outside the office into the main room, where Harry Potter, Fleur Delacour, Victor Krum and the real Alastor Moody lay. Other students had come in over the last two hours as well, mostly asking for sleeping and anxiety-relieving potions due to last night's events. Poppy's intern was handling things as best he could, but he was clearly outnumbered.
"I'll stay with him," Dumbledore said firmly, his voice suddenly strong.
"I'll help," Hagrid said, speaking up. Minerva nodded.
"I would love for Severus to stay as well, but…" Madam Pomfrey paused, thinking of the best way to delicately phrase these difficult words. "But he's going to need long term care."
"No," Dumbledore replied calmly.
Unsure if Dumbledore was disagreeing with her assessment or just the appropriate course of action, Pomfrey continued, "Headmaster, you need to be prepared for the fact that, in all likelihood, he won't pull out of this."
"I'm not sending him there, to be cared for by strangers," Dumbledore replied with almost icy indignation. "Absolutely not."
Dumbledore could see the medi-witch exchanging a long significant glance with his Deputy Headmistress. McGonagall turned and stared at him for a moment, before beginning, "Albus…I think perhaps we should listen to—"
Dumbledore did not let her finish. "It is out of the question," he said sharply, and perhaps louder than he had intended. "If I need to bring in a Healer for him here, then that's what I shall do. But I will not send him away."
In the face of the Headmaster's resolute manner, Pomfrey relented and continued, "Well for the time being at least, I can manage. I've consulted with a specialist at St. Mungo's on the treatment protocols. Physically, Cruciatus overdose requires several potions I don't routinely stock, some of which are very difficult to prepare."
"But surely the chemists at St. Mungo's can brew them for you to administer?" Dumbledore asked.
"That won't be necessary. I think I have everything I need."
"But you just said—"
"Severus brewed everything…3 months ago," Pomfrey explained.
"Oh my," McGonagall gasped. Dumbledore sat down – he suddenly felt unwell.
"As a precaution he said," Pomfrey continued. "He gave me a box of potions. I didn't even go through it then. He just told me I should have it on hand. I've already administered many of them. He seems to have thought of everything – all the required potions and then some. He even wrote up detailed instructions for their administration. Leave it to Severus to tell me how to do my job even in his condition," Pomfrey said with fond sadness.
After a long moment, Dumbledore looked up and asked, "Did the Healer you spoke with give any indication as to what we can expect?"
"Well, in cases like this, although there are not too many to go on, the patient is usually in and out of consciousness for a few hours. So far Severus seems to be following this pattern. I can't give him much more than the sedative I've already administered, because anything stronger would interact adversely with all the other potions I've given him."
"Is he in a lot of pain?"
"He seems alright…for the moment. While I've given him all that I can for pain, I don't know how effective it will continue to be. The Cruciatus interferes with the nervous system and wreaks havoc on the pain receptors. I don't imagine the next several hours are going to be easy on him, if that's what you're asking."
"And then?"
"Typically, patients with similar damage usually go into a coma once the brain registers the extent of the damage. That could happen anywhere from 2-12 hours from now."
"A coma?" McGonagall asked, her eyes brimming with tears.
"Believe it or not, it's a good thing. It's the brain's way of healing itself."
"So he'll heal?" Dumbledore asked hopefully.
Pomfrey let out a deep sigh. "He may never wake up."
"Oh dear god," McGonagall gasped anew, before falling into her chair, her head resting in her hands. Dumbledore was vaguely aware of Hagrid sobbing loudly in the corner.
"And if he does wake," Pomfrey continued, "he could be…well…altered. There will likely be permanent neurological damage."
Dumbledore was very much aware of what Poppy meant. Severus could end up like Alice and Frank Longbottom – they had suffered from the same curse. Dumbledore couldn't imagine the strong-willed, independent Severus Snape as a dementia-stricken invalid, or even worse, as a mindless automaton. The idea sent an icy chill down his spine.
"May I see him?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yes. I'll be in and out of course, but I think that it would be good if there was someone with him while he is still conscious. Perhaps the three of you can alternate shifts?"
"Of course," McGonagall said and Hagrid nodded with a sniffle.
"Thank you both," Dumbledore said, "but I'm going to stay with him…"
"But Albus…
Dumbledore raised his hand to interrupt. "I don't want to be there when Severus wakes up and finds out that I let anyone else see him in this condition." Dumbledore managed a weak smile as he continued his hopeful thought. "He will undoubtedly be furious with me."
McGonagall stared at Dumbledore for a long moment, perhaps trying to assess his sanity, and then she nodded. "If you are sure, Albus."
Pomfrey began again, "Headmaster, I know that you are familiar with symptoms of Cruciatus overdose. The next several hours will not be easy."
"I know."
"Beyond what you already know, you should be aware that I have placed a restraining spell on him so he does not hurt himself during the violent bouts of muscle contractions. I'd rather not use it, but again, I can't give him anything for temporary paralysis because that would counteract the effects of the potions I've administered to prevent muscle degeneration. Therefore, you may need to recast the restraining spell every so often if he begins to flail around."
"I understand."
Dumbledore followed Pomfrey as she made her way over to the private room. They were about to go in when she stopped him and glanced over to her office to make sure they were out of earshot before speaking.
"There is something else, Albus," she said in an anxious hush. "While Severus may appear lucid, I fear he is delusional."
"What do you mean?"
"He seemed to think I was his mother," Pomfrey said.
"I see."
"I thought you should be aware."
"I understand."
"I'll be in to check on him and to make sure he gets his other potions as he needs them, but do let me know if you need me before then."
"Alright."
Dumbledore watched Pomfrey make her way to the main ward. He waited for her to turn the corner before he placed his hand gently against the metallic door and slid is silently open.
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Author's Note: Please review. Thank you all for your patience...it is as always appreciated.
My other chapters have typically been a bit longer, but I felt this was a good place to break and if I had finished (with what will be the next chapter), this chapter would have been mega-long and it would have been many, many long weeks away from your eyes. So I decided to post here since I was happy with the way this ended on the page and I wanted to share it with of all you.
I want to thank all of my awesome reviewers (18 reviews for the last chapter, yay!). I appreciate all comments, but I must give most sincere thanks to those that in particular have encouraged me to pursue whatever vision I have for this story. Your faith in me is humbling.
I thought I'd start sharing with you my favorite thing in each chapter (why? Because this is my A/N ;). But I'd be interested to see if you all agree or liked different things. For me, it is the concept that I saw when I first read GoF, which I express here a bit more directly: the idea that while AD and SS are bound/together in this process, they are simultaneously separated by virtue of their distinct roles. And what does that mean for their future relationship? (Answer: it makes it yummy and angsty.)
Thanks again (always) to my partner M for her work in betaing this story, which I think may even be growing on her!
I think you all know what to expect from the next chapter. Albus goes to see Severus who is not doing well at all (huge understatement!). An excruciating several hours follow and Albus wonders if he'll ever see his friend Severus Snape again.
Please take a moment to review and feed the author!