Unexpected Grace

by cocoa-snape

Snape’s dark mark is returning & his fate is as uncertain as his complex relationship with Dumbledore who offers tea, laughter & Occlumency lessons. Will Snape’s nearly fatal return to Vol in GoF push these two apart or pull them together? ADSS Pre SLASH

6. Never, Severus…never

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.
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Unexpected Grace by Cocoa-Snape
Chapter 6: Never, Severus…never

The moment Albus Dumbledore stepped into the private room at the rear of the hospital wing, he felt as though he had entered another world. He could hear the distant sound of the students on the grounds, unaffected by the horrific events of last night. They were taking advantage of their long weekend – playing Quidditch, swimming in the lake – emitting jubilant sounds that contrasted sharply with the heavy air of despair and the unnatural quiet of this room. Dumbledore knew the sun was shining bright this mid-morning, but the room in which he stood was dim, the curtains drawn tightly over the windows.

With a wave of his hand, and not a little trepidation in his heart, he lit the candles on wall. What he had expected to see he did not know, but Dumbledore could not help but gasp at the sight of his Potions Master and friend.

"Oh Merlin, Severus…"

Snape was lying on a standard sized hospital bed, clad in a white nightshirt. His complexion, normally pale, was as white as the sheets spread over him. It served only to highlight the bruises and the deep cuts on his face, which seemed to have just recently stopped bleeding. Poppy had obviously cast a cleaning charm over him, but there were still small bits of matted dried blood in his dark long hair.

Although he appeared to be asleep, the last thing Severus was doing was resting. It was the artifice of medicine alone, a temporary reprieve from reality. His breathing was uneven and his body was twitching slightly. Dumbledore could see the magic of the restraining shield Poppy had cast that was containing his movements. Perhaps the most disturbing sight was Severus's expression – normally so practiced and strictly controlled – which now was so obviously pained.

Dumbledore took note of the magical intravenous drip adjacent to the bed that delivered the necessary potions directly into Severus's bloodstream by a complicated series of charms. The unit required constant attention to ensure that the charms were still functioning correctly, and therefore was typically only used in cases where patients were unconscious and unable to swallow the required potions.

Dumbledore spotted Severus's clothing lying in a heap in the corner and shivered at the sight. They were torn and mud stained and despite the fact that the robes were black, Dumbledore could discern the dull-colored swathes of blood on every visible surface.

Dumbledore, having lived long enough to know that the worst was not yet past, conjured himself a chair, sat down, and began to wait.

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Snape's sleep consisted of everything from fitful minutes where he mumbled incoherent gibberish to horrifying nightmares, where he clutched desperately at the sheets and screamed until his voice gave out. As he awoke from a particularly disturbing nightmare, his cry, "My Lord, please don't…" still reverberating in the hollow room, Snape opened his eyes fully for the first time.

"Shhh, Severus, it's all right," Dumbledore began, his hand gently patting Severus on the shoulder, making sure he was awake. "You're safe now. You're in the hospital wing."

Snape made a confused unsuccessful effort to move, to shift positions, or to sit up, perhaps to stand. He was still only semi-conscious and the invisible restraints rendered his normally placid expression a bewildered grimace of unparalleled proportion. For an infinitesimal instant, Dumbledore perked his ears and, hearing no trace of Poppy or anyone else in the corridors, promptly lifted the restraining spell. He could see some of the tension leave Severus's face immediately.

"Who are you?" Snape asked, squinting in Dumbledore's direction, confusion playing across his face.

"It's Albus…" Dumbledore replied, leaning closer to Severus so that he might see.

"Albus?" he asked uncertainly. "Albus Dumbledore?"

"Yes," Dumbledore replied with a smile.

"Do you know him?" Snape asked, now staring fully at Dumbledore as though he were a stranger.

"Yes, I know him," Dumbledore replied, seemingly unfazed by this development.

"Dumbledore…" Snape began, his voice reverential, "the most powerful wizard since Merlin…"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at this pronouncement, just as Severus's mood shifted sharply. Suddenly wary and anxious, he snapped, "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

"I'm visiting you, dear boy."

Snape looked around, apparently taking in his surroundings. He appeared utterly disoriented.

Dumbledore attempted to explain, "Severus, you're in the hospital wing…"

Without warning Snape grabbed the front of Dumbledore's robes as forcefully as he could manage given that his fingers were contorted and his hands were twitching severely. Despite this deficit, he latched onto the Headmaster's collar and pulled him down towards him, and began to hiss urgently, the fear unmistakable in his eyes. "He'll kill me if he finds out…"

"Shhh Severus, its okay…"

"You don't understand," Snape pleaded urgently. "The Dark Lord, he knows…he'll know how I feel…He'll kill me…"

"Severus, you're absolutely safe here. No one is going to harm you," Dumbledore reassured.

As if he'd forgotten his pleas from a moment ago, Snape abruptly released his grip on Dumbledore's robes and sank back into the bed. He looked up at the ceiling and exclaimed, "Albus…"

"Severus, I'm here."

Snape continued shouting into the air, apparently unaware of Dumbledore's presence, "I can't do it, Albus. I can't do it…"

"Severus…"

But Snape was ignoring him completely, looking right through him, in fact, as he spoke.

"I don't want to go back to him," Snape begged. Dumbledore stopped breathing. Snape continued, "You promised you'd protect me. Please don't send me back there…please."

It was as though a crushing weight had been placed on Dumbledore's chest. The oppressive ache only continued to spread as Severus went on, speaking to him even though he did not know he was in the room, "Don't you understand…he's going to kill me. He'll know! He'll see it in an instant! You can't imagine his rage when he finds out."

The contrast between Severus's firm stance on returning to Voldemort in their past discussions and his helpless frightened cries of the moment could not have been any more glaring. Or heartbreaking.

Dumbledore did not at once reply, nor could he have if he so desired. He was waiting for Severus to continue, waiting for Severus to tell him how very much he hated him for what he had done. To tell him that he was the reason he was lying in this bed, his lucidity comprised, his body beaten and broken.

Dumbledore did not dread those words, words that never came. Far from it, in fact. He yearned for them. At this moment he wished Severus was strong enough to hit him, to curse him, because that would have hurt less than staring at the fragile form in front of him and knowing he was in some way culpable in this.

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Barely two hours had passed since Dumbledore began his watch over Severus and he was already exhausted. Severus continued to float in and out of consciousness, never recognizing Dumbledore for who he was, but rather misaligning him with the evils of his past. He was bystander to ineffable terror. He was fellow tormentor. He was father, vessel of initial pain and original betrayal.

In each instance, Dumbledore gladly accepted his role and filled it with apologies and found that he could not apologize enough. At the end of two hours, he was physically and emotionally drained. And yet it was not from sitting in the chair next to the bed, nor anxiously pacing the room, nor casting the required immobilization charms, nor trying unsuccessfully to calm Severus through his fits. He was exhausted because he was not doing nearly enough and because he could do no more.

The time passed far from easily for Severus. His best moments consisted of disturbed sleep where he whimpered as his body twitched mercilessly. The remainder of the time when he was cursed with consciousness, his moans grew louder and louder as his muscles contracted painfully with a will of their own.

Dumbledore was distressed to see how rapidly Severus was deteriorating, his face now lined with pain more often than not. He asked Poppy if there was anything she could give Severus the next time she came into the room to check the magical IV. 'I've done all that I can for him, Albus,' she had said. She proceeded to explain how hard it was to treat motor neuron damage, and that any drug she might give Severus would only treat his symptoms, and what's worse, would inhibit any potential for recovery. What she said after that, if anything, was a blur to Dumbledore who had stopped really listening to her at that point. All he wanted was for Severus's torment to end.

But his wish was no sooner thought than it was interrupted by a fresh assault. Severus was awake again, wracked by another series of agonizing involuntary contractions in his back and limbs. Dumbledore quickly recast the restraining charm and did his best to try and calm Severus down.

Snape's eyes were fearful and distant. Tears were silently sliding down his cheeks, dampening his nightshirt. He strained to speak, his voice now completely hoarse from his screams.

"It hurts…make it stop…do something…"

Dumbledore grabbed his hand. "Don't struggle against the pain, Severus. You have to focus and block it out."

Severus remained unresponsive.

"Severus, listen to me, you know how to do this, my boy. Use your mind to dull the pain…block it out, bury it deep down. Try very hard for me, Severus." But Severus wasn't listening and Dumbledore could only stare at him helplessly.

"Make it stop…please. It hurtsss," Severus hissed.

"I know, my boy. I'm so sorry."

"Who are you?"

"It's Albus."

"Will you…will you get him for me?" Severus pleaded frantically, each stuttered word deliberately forced out between hiccupping gasps.

Severus cried out again, practically squealing in agony as another forceful contraction ripped through his back. Dumbledore squeezed Severus's hand tighter as his breathing became more and more labored. Gulping in air between the spasms, Severus managed to croak out, "Where are you, Albus?"

Almost without conscious thought, and with Severus's desperate pleas ringing in his ears, Dumbledore stood and released the restraining charm. Pulling back the covers, he carefully levitated Severus's body, which was now writhing violently in mid-air. Dumbledore quickly transfigured the metal bars into a headboard and laid down on the bed with his back propped up against a mountain of pillows he had similarly conjured. He carefully levitated the still thrashing body back down on top of him, so that Severus's back rested against his chest. Dumbledore folded his arms across Severus's chest, restraining his arms and threw his right leg across Severus's thighs to control his lower body.

As Severus struggled desperately for air, Dumbledore soothed, his voice calm and soft, "It's alright, Severus, breathe for me now. That's right, focus on my chest. We're breathing together, just feel my chest rising and falling. That's it…nice and slow, deep calm breaths, that's it. Good boy."

Dumbledore repeated this mantra over and over again as the contraction began to fade, and Severus's breathing slowly returned to normal. Dumbledore could feel Severus relaxing more and more with each passing second, his body becoming almost limp against him – the first true respite Severus had had in a long while.

The contrast was striking – only moments before Severus had been thrashing so violently Dumbledore had struggled to keep him under control. Now Dumbledore could only marvel at how Severus felt so fragile in his arms. And yet the strange thing was, there was no awkwardness in holding Severus like this. Just relief that perhaps he had helped to soothe Severus's discomfort, if only for a moment.

Transferring his control of Severus's upper body to one arm, Dumbledore tilted his head to the side and used his now free hand to smooth away the sweat soaked hair clinging to Severus's face. Severus's head had turned as well and when their eyes met, Dumbledore gasped at what he saw. Severus was looking at him – really looking at him.

"Albus," Severus breathed, a strange tranquility entering his face.

Recognition had dawned on Severus's face – sudden and forceful, unmistakable and brilliant.

Nothing could have prepared Dumbledore for the intensity of this moment. The force of the penetrating gaze being leveled at him, Severus's first acknowledgement of his presence. It was overwhelming. It was exhilarating and yet terrifying at the same time. Because there was a possibility that he might never see those eyes looking at him like that ever again.

"Yes, my boy," Dumbledore managed, his voice unsteady, "It's Albus."

"You came, Albus…you came."

With a tear sliding down his cheek into his beard, Dumbledore managed, "Of course I did, Severus. Of course I did."

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The next several hours were filled with extremes as effects of the Cruciatus became more and more pronounced. The pain seemed to come in waves, with Dumbledore soon learning the horrible rhythm of it, even as the respites became fewer and farther apart.

One moment Severus's whole body would shake uncontrollably, his limbs flailing wildly. And in the next, he would stiffen like a board, his muscles contracting so violently his back would bend backwards so that it appeared it might snap in half.

And the moments of sleep that fell in the interim, blessed and few, were all too often interrupted by the cruelty of a consciousness that left Severus screaming until exhaustion consumed him.

At times, Severus would be sweating through his gown from fever, his skin cold and clammy, and minutes later, he would be shivering from cold even as his body felt fiery hot.

And at other times even these horrific signs of life would apparently dissipate. Dumbledore would be listening for the sounds of Severus's labored breathing when they would suddenly be replaced by a silence so eerie that Dumbledore had to cast a fluttering charm, suspending a feather just inches from Severus's mouth, to keep himself from shaking the already fragile form before him.

Dumbledore was there through it all, tending to Severus with utmost care, securing Severus to his very self during the most violent episodes, holding him gently through the persistent twitching, and trying to soothe him every moment in between.

The first time Poppy Pomfrey came in the room and saw the Headmaster lying in the bed with Severus, she was a bit surprised but said nothing. And Dumbledore offered no explanation. He knew there was no other place he should be now, except here – tending to Severus, seeing him through this anguish.

Dumbledore did his best to keep Severus comfortable. Through the fevers, he was there with cooling or warming charms as they were needed. Through the sweat of the night terrors, he was there with drying charms. And through the embarrassment of an uncontrollable bladder and a convulsing stomach, he was there with charms to clean. Dumbledore was there through it all. He was both protector and nurse, but most importantly he was friend – there to hold the shaking hysterical Severus – there to calm him into sleep with his voice, the only thing he seemed to respond to.

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Those few hours were, quite possibly, the most arduous of Dumbledore's life. But just when Dumbledore couldn't imagine things getting any worse, the seizures began.

The first one caught him completely by surprise. Severus's body went still for a moment before stiffening and beginning to convulse. His eyes rolled back inside his head and a stream of drool began to flow from his mouth. Dumbledore almost reflexively rolled Severus onto his side to sustain the passage of air but this was too much. He had been a rock. Now he felt the panic rise up in him, felt the adrenaline course through him as he gripped Severus as tightly as fingers, hands, and arms would allow to prevent him from flying off the bed.

After it was over, Dumbledore vaguely remembered screaming for Poppy, and angrily demanding that she do something…anything. But she only conveyed her sadness that there was no more she could do. Dumbledore's anxiety was not assuaged by the fact that the medi-witch seemed just as rattled as he was by the magnitude of Severus's seizures.

The seizures were, indeed, positively frightening in their intensity. Every time one would start, Dumbledore felt the fear grip his heart in a stronghold. And he would have to remind himself to breathe, even as Severus did not. Every spasm, every gasp, every twitch, tore him up inside. And every tremor shook him to the core.

Severus remained in this agony for much longer than Dumbledore could have anticipated. Over 12 hours in total, and he wondered if it would ever end. Dumbledore was so absorbed in comforting Severus, whispering to the stricken man so intently, he had stopped noticing Poppy's presence as she checked Severus's magical IV.

Dumbledore was, in fact, Severus's only solace in the face of this agony.

In lieu of pain relieving potions, Albus whispered comforting words into Severus's ear and attempted to soothe the man with his touch. He brushed his hand over Severus's cheeks, forehead, and through his hair, pulling the sweaty tangles away from his face, as he rocked him gently in his arms.

In lieu of muscle relaxants, Dumbledore propped Severus up and rubbed the throbbing, twisted muscles in his back. After hours of learning the worst spots and what to do, Dumbledore found that the massages seemed to alleviate at least part of Severus's suffering.

In lieu of sleeping potions, Dumbledore cradled Severus in his arms and coaxed him gently into sleep with his voice. He could sense that Severus was relaxed by the sound of his voice and so he did not stop talking. He murmured futile relaxation charms, whispered tales of utter nonsense, and reminded Severus how to breathe every time he seemed to forget.

Now, as another seizure ended, Dumbledore held Severus through the residual convulsions.

"It's almost over, Severus. Breathe for me…slowly now. Deep breaths…just like me. That's it…slowly…"

Once Severus had resumed breathing, Dumbledore cast a strong heating charm on Severus's back to loosen the constricted knot of muscle. A few drying and cleaning charms later, and Dumbledore was easing Severus back up against him, embracing him in warmth. Severus sighed at the momentary respite. Aware that Severus was watching him, Dumbledore looked down and caught Severus's eyes.

"Hello there," Dumbledore said gently, smiling.

Snape was silent for a moment and then whispered, "I love you."

Dumbledore stared at Severus in stunned silence for a long moment. He was about to speak, but Severus beat him to it.

"I love you, Albus," Severus repeated.

"I love you too, Severus," Dumbledore replied, with barely a thought. "Now please try and get some rest."

If there was any time for Albus to wonder about Severus's coherence in that moment, it was not now. Severus continued in almost a sob, "I'm so sorry, Albus."

"Whatever for, dear boy?"

Snape hissed, "I'll do anything…" this time through clenched teeth as another contraction wracked his body. Dumbledore held on tightly and Snape continued, "…anything for you…please don't give me to the dementors…"

"Shhh, Severus, stop talking. There are no dementors here."

But Snape was not to be deterred, his eyes were glazed over from the pain, but he continued to force out the words. "I'll tell you his secrets, just don't send me away…I'll stay at Hogwarts if you want me to."

As the spasm lessened and Severus's body began to relax, Dumbledore attempted to calm the trembling man, stroking his forehead as he said, "Severus, it's alright. You need to calm down, my boy."

"Don't send me away…" he breathed hysterically.

"I'm not going to send you away, Severus."

Severus was panting heavily. Even though his body had calmed, his eyes were filled with anxiety, "I know you don't love me…you shouldn't love me."

"Shhh, Severus, stop talking nonsense now…"

"I'm horrible," he whimpered. "I don't deserve you…I don't deserve anything good…"

"Now you are really talking nonsense, my boy. I can't think of anyone more deserving."

Dumbledore continued to soothe Severus with his voice, smoothly prodding him into some much needed sleep.

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As the hour grew very very late, Dumbledore was grateful that Severus's seizures had finally stopped and the contractions began to occur with reduced frequency. As a result, even the consistent twitching did not keep Severus awake, and consciousness plagued him less and less. Albus took it as a good sign and so was therefore saddened to learn that the truth of the situation was far from what he had presumed it to be.

The next time she was in the room, Poppy explained the reason Severus's convulsions and spasms had ceased – his neurons were no longer sending signals to his muscles. 'It means they're shutting down.' She told him that soon, he would slip into a coma.

And just like that the unconsciousness Albus had welcomed, even willed for Severus to take away his pain, became a terrifying enemy, at once intangible and inescapable.

Dumbledore could sense Severus stirring slightly against him.

"Albus?"

"Yes, my boy." To think, this could very well be the last time he ever spoke with Severus again.

His voice thick with pain, Severus whimpered, "Albus?"

"I'm right here, Severus," Dumbledore managed, his voice trembling.

There were silent tears streaming from Severus's eyes as he looked up at Dumbledore. "I'm scared, Albus," he whispered, clutching tightly at Dumbledore's robes.

As Dumbledore gently wiped the tears from Severus's cheeks, he could see the fear in those dark depths and he knew that somehow Severus was aware of what was happening.

"It's going to be all right, Severus. I promise."

And even as he said it, Dumbledore had no idea how he could keep that promise or if he could somehow make it true by wishing it. He may have been a wizard of tremendous power, but there was nothing he could do. Here in this moment of significance, he was powerless. This was something even his magic could not fix…could not undo.

In the absence of spell or incantation, Dumbledore brushed the hair away from Severus's face, leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Severus's forehead.

When Dumbledore met Severus's gaze once more, Severus pleaded, "Please don't leave me, Albus. You won't leave me, will you?"

Dumbledore pulled Severus closer to him, tightening his protective hold around Severus's body before vowing, "Never, Severus. Never."

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Author's Note: I apologize profusely for the delay. Take consolation in the fact that it was harder on me than it was on you. I was writing dreadful stuff for weeks and deleting it and getting very frustrated.

This chapter was absolutely excruciating to write. That's almost funny because I intend it to be excruciating to read…(in the right way :). I hope it left you emotionally drained by the magnitude of Severus's pain. And Albus's desperation to take it away. My favorite parts of this chapter are the first time Severus recognizes Albus and the very end.

As always, huge thanks to all my reviewers! I am so grateful for all your comments!

And inexpressible thanks to my partner, M, who helped me turn this chapter into exactly what I wanted even when I didn't think I could.

One of my readers asked me to explain my title. As usual, I went overboard with a long explication. Check out my LJ (see my profile page for the link) for that...and some possible plot hints. You might find it interesting.

But first...please please leave some feedback for me. Thanks very much.