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 7: Not now…not ever

In the distance a voice sounds – so quiet, so muffled, as though resounding from the depths of an unknown sea. But, in fact, it is the man who perceives it who is submerged – lost in a deep void, in total darkness.

Severus Snape faced that consuming darkness with much trepidation a few days before. But he soon embraced the relief of that profound sleep that took away his agony.

When he first began that journey away from consciousness and into that inescapable night, he had felt overwhelmed by the oppressiveness of it, the heat and pressure of a darkness too close for sight. Terrified, he struggled against it, the panic his mind felt commanding his body.

Even a moment before, he felt nothing of the old resistance. Felt, in fact, on the cusp of that final abyss, acceptance and even warmth. But out of the depths of his very self, there came this voice. No. Not so much a voice as a feeling, spreading throughout his mind a tacit message, a prompting to desire, a reminder of memory itself.

And with a great feeling of recognition Severus realizes that this must be him – that this must be his own will to live, one he thought he had abandoned. He marvels at this revelation, startled that there can still be a part of him that wishes to fight, some part of him still alive and awake under that mass of stagnant neurons and crippled flesh.

But to that voice, growing more insistent and enticing, Severus adds another. In the darkness he may be alone, but he is without memory, without pain. He has been sinking deeper and deeper into the darkness for many days now, and he has grown comfortable here. He abandoned the light some time ago…and it has long forgotten him.

But even as it terrifies him to contemplate the possibility of continuing, of living, he is enraptured in this unfamiliar sensation, in its possibility. He knows he cannot ignore what it offers. Another chance.

Its message is unrelenting, whispering into his subconscious, triggering something inexplicable inside him.

Two voices, waging battle in a single mind. Perhaps it is real. Perhaps it is nothing more than a figment of his imagination – a group of neurons firing, trying to keep his mind, keep him, alive. A mass of chemicals, residual neurotransmitters still signaling futilely in his brain. Some people claim they see a bright light as they pass. Perhaps this is his bright light. His delusion.

It grows stronger and stronger, even as his body grows weaker and is mere hours away from finally succumbing.

Unwavering, the voice continues its urging. It does not promise. It does not command. It does not lie. It is simply there. And for the briefest of lucid moments, Severus wonders if there are decipherable words to this hum he hears. Whatever it is, he feels its guiding force. And he is listening. And he has no idea why.

Soon, he has lost all concept of time, listening to its message, muddled, yet clearer than ever before. It resonates into and through the depths of his soul, reawakening his mind although his body remains 'asleep.' Penetrating his psyche. Leading him away from the darkness. Tantalizing him with a sort of bliss that is difficult, if not impossible to describe, or to reject. Pleading for him to heal, to wake up.

Despite himself, Severus Snape obeys.

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Severus Snape awoke alone. He could tell by the sterile smell and the white sheets that he was in the hospital wing, and he wondered for a long moment why he was here instead of in his own bed. But feeling the pronounced twitching of his extremities, he suddenly knew why. As he opened his eyes, he was aware of a muted alarm sounding in the distance. He barely had time to contemplate its meaning before Poppy Pomfrey burst through the door.

The medi-witch met his eyes, and he returned her intent stare for a long moment before finally managing, his voice scratchy, "May I help you?"

"Oh, Severus, I'm so stunned…I mean relieved…I mean…oh my, Severus." Remembering herself, Poppy rounded on her patient and began conducting a neurological evaluation.

"Stunned?" Snape asked, wincing slightly at the bright light being flashed in his eyes.

"Severus, you've been unconscious for days now. We were sure, I mean we were afraid you wouldn't wake up. And," Poppy cast an amazed look that took Snape in from top to bottom and spoke as if to herself, "relatively undamaged to boot."

"Undamaged?" Snape inquired disbelievingly, as he indicated his arms, which were caught in a constant uncontrollable tremor. "Based on the condition of my body, I assume that you are referring to the fact that I am not a vegetable."

Poppy nodded. Her voice was incredulous as she finished her exam. "This is astounding, Severus."

"Something for the record books, I'm sure," Snape mocked.

Taking in his doubtful tone, Poppy explained, "Severus, your condition had been worsening significantly, and after so many days in a coma, we were losing hope that—"

"A coma?" Snape asked. "Oh yes," he amended, suddenly remembering the darkness that he had been in. "How long?"

"You've been here for five days."

"Five days…" Snape was trying to count in his head what day that would make it. It had to be Monday at least. Dumbledore had probably already mobilized the Order and began the arrangements for setting up Headquarters. He knew he didn't need to worry about the Dark Lord, at least for the time being. Snape felt sure that he would take advantage of his clandestine return and avoid drawing attention to himself with further incidents. Monday…that would make it the first day of the last week of classes. Oh no, Snape groaned mentally. Everyone would know by now. They would be gossiping in the corridors, whispering behind his back, conjecturing…

"And my classes?" Snape asked.

"Don't worry, Severus. It's the first day of classes since the Tournament ended. Professor McGonagall is covering for you today."

"Please tell me you're joking. Minerva knows as much about Potions as I do about Transfiguration."

"Oh for heaven's sake, Severus, she'll manage just fine. It's not like it's Trelawney."

"What about my N.E.W.T. students? We were supposed to review," Snape asked with increasing agitation.

"Most of the N.E.W.T.s ended last week, Severus. The Potions N.E.W.T. was this morning. It was delayed 3 days because of…well, you know," Poppy said in a near whisper.

Snape's solemn grunt had to suffice for an acknowledgment.

"You need not worry about your N.E.W.T students. Albus took care of them personally. He reviewed the relevant material with them last night before he left." Seeing that Snape was about to interrupt, she added, "And yes, Severus, he found your notes."

But Snape didn't care about his classes anymore. He wanted to know where Albus was. "Left? Where is he?"

"He left this morning for London to meet with the Minister," Poppy explained, rolling her eyes sympathetically at Dumbledore's plight. "And to attend to other things as well, I'm sure," she added.

That was an understatement if Snape had ever heard one. He knew Dumbledore had dozens of things to take care of, working to implement the plans he had been making for the past several months. He was now shouldered with the heavy burden of leading the Order of the Phoenix through the war effort without the Ministry's help.

Poppy interrupted Snape's thoughts, "Speaking of the Headmaster, I'll have to notify him right away. I'll send Fawkes."

"What?" Snape attempted to grab Poppy's sleeve, but was unable to latch on, his hand twitching too violently to be useful. "Fawkes? Are you out of your mind? You can't disturb the Headmaster now."

"He left specific instructions to be summoned if your condition changed, Severus. Trust me, he'd want to be informed."

"I don't care. It would be lunacy to interrupt him!" Snape snapped, angered at the idea of Dumbledore being disrupted by something so inane as his condition.

"He won't be happy when he finds out I didn't send for him right away. I made him a promise."

"At least give him some time to finish his Order meeting," Snape pleaded. "You know very well what he's doing is more important."

"All right, Severus," Poppy reluctantly agreed, seeing how upset Severus was. "Let me alert Minerva, and she can tell us when his meeting was supposed to be. I'll send Fawkes afterwards."

Poppy was gone for less than a minute. When she returned, Severus was staring at his shaking hands, willing them to stop. "I'm afraid it's going to take a few weeks to get your muscles functioning fully," Poppy remarked. "But the fact that you can move at all is a very good sign."

"Hmm." Suddenly remembering, Snape asked, "What about my Slytherins? Don't tell me Minerva's dealing with them as well?"

"Professor Sinistra's got them covered. You really need to relax, Severus."

"So everyone knows then?" Snape asked with displeasure.

"The students and faculty think you're away on personal business. No one but Albus, Minerva and Hagrid know."

"Hagrid?" Snape asked in confusion.

"Yes. Fang found you."

"Oh yes. I seem to remember that."

"And is that the last thing you remember, Severus?"

"I think so. It's very vague," Snape struggled to recall any events of the past several days. "I remember appearing in the forest. I'm not sure if I Apparated or if it was assisted. It must have been assisted," Snape corrected his thought process, "…I barely had the strength to crawl out of there."

"Do you remember anything else?" Poppy asked gently.

"The meeting." Snape said it almost before the recollection had to time to dawn in his own mind and an icy chill ran down the length of his body. As an afterthought, he added aloud, "But it's a bit fuzzy at the moment."

"It's alright, Severus. Don't think about it now. Right now you need to rest."

"Should I remember more?" Snape asked as he heaved his legs off the side of the bed with a great deal of effort.

"Where do you think you're going?" Poppy exclaimed from across the room, her hands full of potions.

"I need to get moving if I'm going to teach tomorrow," Snape replied, panting through his effort.

"Severus, get back in bed this instant!"

"It's just a little bit of twitching," Snape replied as he hoisted himself out of the bed in a deliberate movement and then crumbled to the floor, his legs buckling underneath his weight.

As Poppy levitated Snape back into bed, she reprimanded, "I cannot believe you just did that! Your muscles are useless at the moment, Severus and if you don't take care of yourself they'll remain that way. Besides, the last thing you need to be worrying about is teaching. The Headmaster said he would see to your classes personally for the remainder of the week."

As Poppy tucked the blankets around him, Snape realized that, for once, the medi-witch was right. He was absolutely exhausted, his heart was racing, he was breathing in labored gasps from the effort he had expended in moving, and he was overcome with waves of nausea.

Sensing his state, Poppy said, "Here take this," and thrust a potion at him.

Like someone tasting a fine wine, Snape first sniffed the potion before drinking it down. With eyes narrowed, he asked, "November's brew?"

"Yes," Poppy replied. "I still have no idea how you do that with all the batches you brew. Now then, let's get started on treating your muscles. I didn't want to risk giving you anything while you were unconscious."

Snape recognized the jar of yellow liquid right away. "I don't want that. I won't be able to move."

"You aren't able to move anyway. And this will at least stop the involuntary spasms for several hours. Your muscles need the regeneration time."

"But the dose?" Snape asked, squinting at the bottle.

"The dose is high, but it's only a once daily administration. Besides, you'll be able to sleep better without the tremors." Taking in the doubtful look on his face, she added, "Unless you want to stay in this bed all summer long?"

"Give me that," Snape demanded, and downed the potion.

"And what's that you have in your hand. Is that for pain?"

"Yes."

Snape shook his head. "But that might adversely affect the nerve regeneration…"

"Severus, are you going to tell me how to do my job?" Poppy questioned sternly.

"Yes."

Poppy smiled. "I'm so happy to see you're yourself, Severus."

Snape huffed.

"Now, let's start with these and then we can argue the merits of pain relievers and sedatives later, alright?"

A few moments after swallowing the required potions, there was a sharp knock at the door. McGonagall came striding into the room.

"Severus? Oh my, you're awake!" she exclaimed.

"Wonderful. Another woman fussing over me!" Snape said under his breath.

McGonagall was beside herself with joy. "This is a miracle, Severus. An absolute miracle!"

"I find that doubtful."

"We thought you were gone to the world. What happened, Poppy?"

"I have no idea. He's extremely lucky."

As McGonagall came closer and began tucking the blankets around Snape, he let out a frustrated sigh as he realized he was unable to push her away. He began, "Poppy, you neglected to mention all the risks of that potion. I may go mad not being able to stop people from hovering over me."

"What is he talking about?" McGonagall asked.

"I've given him something to paralyze his muscles from the neck down. He can't move."

"Yes. So would you be so kind as to stop your infernal tucking!" Snape snapped.

"Whatever you say, Severus," McGonagall replied with a smile, unfazed by his attitude. "You're just lucky Hagrid isn't here. He'd be sobbing all over you."

"Giants?" Snape asked seriously, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"He left last week," McGonagall replied.

"What happened with—" Snape began to ask in a hushed tone.

Poppy cut in, "That's enough talking for now. You need to rest, Severus."

"I've been in a coma for days. Do I really need more sleep?"

Poppy's glare served as her answer.

Snape would never have admitted it, but he couldn't remember ever feeling more exhausted. And now that his muscles appeared at long last to be at rest, his limp body was melting into the bed, begging for sleep. He wondered how that was possible. He had just woken up.

Noticing his drooping eyelids, Poppy explained, "It's perfectly normal for coma patients not to wake for extended lengths of time, Severus. I'll expect you'll be sleeping quite a lot over the next few days. It's nothing to worry about." And then Poppy added with a stern voice, "And I'm sure your leap out of the bed didn't help."

"Severus!" McGonagall admonished.

"Well I heard you had my classes," he murmured, too tired to finish the rest of his thought.

"Don't worry about any of that, Severus," McGonagall said. "Just focus on getting better. Thank Merlin you're alright. We've been worried sick about you."

"I'm sure," Snape managed sarcastically, his eyes closing involuntarily.

"Albus especially…" McGonagall whispered.

Severus Snape had no idea, as sleep claimed him.

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As the day grew into night in London, Dumbledore was concluding his meeting with Arthur Weasley and Sirius Black. That morning, Dumbledore had had a less than successful meeting with Cornelius Fudge, which ended very much as their last meeting had on the night of Voldemort's return. But most of his day had been spent here, in Grimmauld Place. Dumbledore had just finished casting the necessary spells and enchantments on the Order's new headquarters an hour ago.

He was in the middle of telling Arthur that he would need to meet individually with each of the members of the Order when Fawkes appeared, gliding through the air down the long corridor and into the kitchen where they sat. Dumbledore stood sharply, apprehension gripping his throat. A second later, the phoenix emitted a harsh cry and disappeared in a burst of flame.

"Gentlemen, I have to go. Thank you both for your efforts. I'll be back when I can to finalize the arrangements."

"Of course," both men replied, stunned by the curious interruption.

In the next second Dumbledore was gone in a completely silent Apparition. He appeared with precision on the edge of Hogsmeade, less than ten feet from the perimeter of the anti-Apparition wards on the Hogwarts grounds. It was still quite a distance from the castle, and he walked briskly, thinking about Severus's condition.

Over the days that Severus was in the hospital wing, Dumbledore had stayed with him day and night, leaving only to shower and change. Poppy nagged him constantly about eating and sleeping, but he ignored the medi-witch. The last thing he wanted was to chance being away in a moment when Severus might need him. That was why he was extremely reluctant to leave Severus this morning for his business in London. But he knew it had to be done – although Dumbledore was certain that Voldemort would not risk exposing himself yet, he knew it would be unwise to let this assumption dictate his preparations.

He was loath to leave, but Poppy assured him, for what must have been the tenth time, that she would contact him immediately if Severus's condition changed in any way. So Dumbledore had left this morning, delaying his exit just long enough to give Severus's seventh year N.E.W.T. students some words of encouragement before their exam. Now he was being summoned back to Hogwarts. And the worst part of it was, he had no idea why, no idea what to expect.

Dumbledore cursed himself for not having activated the floo in Grimmauld Place as of yet – then he might have spoken with Poppy immediately. And it was too dangerous to send any written communication, as it might be intercepted. The only thing he had to go by was Poppy's horrifying assessment of Severus's condition the evening prior. When Dumbledore had asked about the possibility of improvement, the medi-witch silently shook her head, unable to verbalize the horrible truth she thought lie ahead.

A thousand questions raced through Dumbledore's mind. What had happened? Had Severus's condition gotten worse? Had he woken? Was there brain damage? Or perhaps, Severus had succumbed, had…Dumbledore stopped himself from thinking about it any further. He was not prepared to accept the worst. Or even imagine it.

Instead, Dumbledore chose to think about the words they had exchanged during Severus's brief periods of consciousness, painful though they were.

Severus had spoken the words first.

They had developed a strong friendship, Dumbledore knew, and it was gratifying to hear this evidence of the bond they shared. And it was not surprising that Severus would want to express that in what he perceived as his last hours. Hardly surprising at all, Dumbledore thought.

'I love you.' Powerful words indeed. Yet it was not Severus's words that occupied Dumbledore's mind. It was his own.

Dumbledore had told Severus he loved him. He had said it as a routine, almost instinctive, return of the sentiment. After all, it seemed only appropriate given Severus's condition – he would have said anything to comfort and calm his suffering friend. But that reason for saying those words was neither here nor there. The simple fact was that it was true.

Of course he cared very deeply for Severus. Over the years, Severus had become his most trusted confidant and best friend. It was only natural to feel such a deep protectiveness for this person who had trusted in him in the crucial and most trying time in his life.

And so it had felt only fitting, only right, to say 'I love you.' But he had not been prepared for the effect those words would have on him. It had felt oddly liberating. As if he had confessed. Releasing a secret held close for too long. But this had been no secret. Only a truth never before uttered.

Expression can have a powerful effect, no doubt. And Dumbledore felt the impact of this exchange with an intensity that was oddly ineffable. But Dumbledore knew one thing for certain. He could not bear to lose Severus. Not now. Not ever.

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As Dumbledore made his way hurriedly into the hospital wing, the first thing he registered was the emptiness of the place. At the end of the ward, he passed through Poppy's office before heading towards Severus's room, surprised that he hadn't met the medi-witch. Dumbledore could hear the awkward resounding of his own footsteps in the too silent corridor. This was not right. Dumbledore felt the knot in his stomach extend all the way to the back of his throat.

With a clammy hand and a racing heart, Dumbledore opened the door to Severus's room. He could see the shape of his friend, lying still in the bed – too still, Dumbledore thought at once. Even in a coma his body had been twitching. Dumbledore could barely breathe, he felt his chest begin to ache and a painful constriction wrenched all the remaining air from his lungs.

He tried to move, but his feet felt rooted to the floor. This could not be happening. Yet, it was. And they had gone, Dumbledore thought, leaving Severus all alone. Were they already making arrangements, or had they been as he felt now…too weak to stay.

"Oh Severus…" he gasped out through what sounded very much like a sob.

Dumbledore thought he must have imagined the slight rustle of a sheet, and then a sound like a voice.

"It's about time you got here, Albus," Snape said, his eyes still closed.

"Severus?" Dumbledore breathed, standing like a man unseeing in a dark room, too uncertain to move.

Snape opened his eyes. "Where have you been?" he asked, feigning annoyance. "And don't give me the whole saving the world excuse…it's getting old."

Dumbledore had never loved the sound of Severus's sarcastic whip more. And he knew he could not in a million years have imagined that voice! "Oh Merlin, Severus. You're all right!" Dumbledore practically leapt across the room to Severus's side.

"Except for the fact that I have no motor control and Poppy took it upon herself to paralyze my muscles, I'm splendid."

Pomfrey, who had just entered the room, said, "He's complaining already, Headmaster. I think that's as good a sign as any."

"When did this…?" Dumbledore began to ask, his voice incredulous.

"He woke up about three hours ago and he's already giving me orders, the first of which was to delay sending Fawkes."

"Will he make a full recovery?" Dumbledore asked.

"I anticipate so. That is, if he behaves and doesn't try anything foolish again such as getting out of bed."

"I'm in the room, you know," Snape drawled.

"We are aware," Dumbledore beamed.

"How could we forget?" Pomfrey asked sarcastically.

As Poppy attended to Severus, Dumbledore asked a barrage of questions about Severus's condition and the process of recovery ahead.

Snape was soon tired of listening to the medi-witch's monologues about his muscle contractures. He interrupted, "Albus, Poppy told me you conducted a review session with my N.E.W.T. students. Thank you."

"If the complexity of their questions are any indication, Severus, they should do very well. I did my best to answer. It has, after all, been some time since I've studied Potions."

"I'm sure you did just fine with them," Snape replied kindly.

"Oh my!" Poppy exclaimed. "Perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps his personality is affected, Headmaster," she quipped. "Should we expect a kinder, gentler Severus from now on?"

"Dear Merlin, I hope not," Snape huffed as Pomfrey gathered the empty potions bottles and left the room.

Dumbledore chuckled, conjured himself a chair next to the bed and sat down. He could not have expressed how pleased he was to see those dark eyes alertly watching him. The two said nothing for a long moment.

When Dumbledore spoke, his tone was so gentle, it was disarming. "It was very considerate of you to wake up for me, dear boy."

After the briefest of pauses, Severus replied, "I aim to please, Albus," his feigned sarcasm belied entirely by the unmistakable softness in his eyes.

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A/N: Thanks to each and every one of my reviewers! Your comments for the last chapter were so very kind - and appreciated! Writing this fic sometimes gets rather overwhelming for me, so it's very nice to get feedback along the way, especially your emotional reactions to the chapters. Thank you again. And in case you are curious, I would guess this is roughly the half-way mark of the story.

For those of you into the details…yes I know in canon there is no mention about Snape missing the last week of classes, but I will attempt to address that in the next chapter.

Again, inexplicable thanks to my partner, M, for her beta work.

So two things I tried to make obvious, but will reiterate since they are important to the future plot... Severus has no memory of the events in the previous chapter. And Albus attributes Severus's 'confession' entirely to friendship and nothing more, though we know differently.

My favorite parts of this chapter are the beginning…Severus's mind waging battle, deciding whether to live. And more so...Dumbledore's still confused reflections on those 3 important little words, his own confessed 'secret' of sorts, however foreign and hazy the idea is to him still. But at least it's becoming clearer to him!

Please be so kind as to take a moment and leave your comments.