Title: Unexpected Grace
Author: Cocoa-Snape (aka CocoaSnape)
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs exclusively to JKR…she is a goddess. I am making no money from this and I intend no copyright infringement.
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Unexpected Grace
by CocoaSnape
Chapter 8: A bright spot in the gloom
When Severus Snape began to awake the next morning, he did not feel nearly as rested as a man should after 16 hours of sleep. He became vaguely aware that there was a restraining charm holding him in place, as his body seemed to be trembling with a will of its own, yet he remained, for the most part, still. He quickly realized, too, though his eyes were still closed, that he was not alone. Lethargically, Snape managed a glance through half-lidded eyes in the direction of his not entirely welcome guest. Truth be told, Snape was not, nor had he ever been, in the mood for visitors. But at the sight of Albus Dumbledore, his body abandoned its state of lazy wakefulness and would have bolted to attention had such a movement been possible.
The Headmaster was lying in a rather elegant chaise lounge at his bedside and had apparently been asleep. With Snape's abrupt movements, he too began to stir.
"Good morning," Dumbledore said, waving his hand to release Severus's restraining charm. "Or should I say afternoon?" Touching the breast pocket of his robes where his watch resided; Dumbledore amended, "Ah, yes, afternoon."
"I woke you," Snape began in apology.
Dumbledore waved his hand dismissively. "I'm sorry for dozing off, Severus. It's not much of an excuse," Dumbledore said, pointing at the stacks of papers surrounding him, "but the mail since last week has become downright unmanageable. I've been catching up on it for the better part of 5 hours."
"You've been sitting here for 5 hours?" Snape asked in surprise.
"I may have stayed the night. I've been working for 5 hours. Surely, you can't expect a man of my age to work all night, now can you?" Dumbledore quipped with a bright smile on his face.
Snape's eyes were now as wide as saucers. "That really wasn't necessary, Albus," he breathed out through his incredulity.
"I know it wasn't," Dumbledore replied simply. "But I like to delude myself that you sleep better with me watching over you."
Snape could not believe Albus had slept in the hospital wing…for him. Little did Snape know, Dumbledore had been doing just that for the past several nights, ever since his initial return.
Sensing Severus's shock, Dumbledore tried to ease the younger man's discomfort. "It was rather comfortable actually. I think I shall have to get one of these for my study," Dumbledore said, gesturing to the chaise lounge.
Eyeing Severus's quivering form, Dumbledore spoke with marked softness in his voice. "How are feeling, my boy?"
"Fine."
At Dumbledore's dubious expression, Snape amended reluctantly, "Tired, if you can believe that. And my back is rather sore." In actuality, the ache of his body was so profound that Snape was afraid to move. His head was throbbing, his muscles felt as though they were twisted in knots and he thought for certain his back would snap in half if he breathed too hard.
Dumbledore was not at all fooled by Severus's rather mild admission of discomfort and placed a vial of pain-reducer against Severus's lips. It did not escape the elder wizard's notice that Severus gulped it down without question or comment. "I should let Poppy know you're awake, Severus. She has other potions to administer to you I'm sure."
Snape stopped Dumbledore as he moved to get up, "Please don't. Not yet." Pomfrey's fussing could wait, he thought, especially as the potion began to dull his pain. It wasn't much, but any bit of relief was sorely welcome. Snape continued, "I need to know what's going on."
Dumbledore whispered something and a moment later the chaise lounge morphed into a large armchair, and Dumbledore's mail flew neatly into a stack onto the table in the corner.
With a nod from the Headmaster, Snape began asking his questions. He had many – about the Order, about what Dumbledore had been up to, about how the plans had been executed. After receiving answers to his most pressing questions, Snape knew it was his turn to share information and promptly turned the topic to his first meeting with Voldemort.
Dumbledore raised his hand to stop him. He did not think it was a wise idea to enter into this particular discussion just yet, especially since there appeared to be no urgent need for it. It was bound only to upset the infirmed man.
"There's no rush, Severus. You just woke up… you should rest. We can talk about it in a few days when you're up to it." Dumbledore realized that had been the wrong choice of words almost immediately.
"Up to it?" Snape asked harshly, his voice clearly indicating he was affronted by the accusation that he might not be. "I'm up to it now," Snape insisted.
"My mistake, Severus. I didn't mean to imply that you weren't," Dumbledore lied. "But why don't you at least have something to eat first. You're weak yet," Dumbledore said, well aware that he was grasping at straws in an effort to put this off. But he was very worried about how this conversation was going to go.
"I'm not hungry, Albus," Snape said firmly and launched immediately into a description of the events that had transpired several nights before, beginning with his Apparition at Voldemort's side.
Dumbledore was keenly aware that Severus's recounting was rather cursory at best. Severus laid out who was present at the meeting, relayed details about Voldemort's new body and skipped straight to his assessment of whether Voldemort believed him or not. Conspicuously absent were details about what had been spoken between him and the dark wizard and how precisely Severus had come to be so near death. And Dumbledore knew immediately by Severus's omissions that he wasn't at all ready to face this yet, not ready to remember.
The very last thing Dumbledore wanted was to add to Severus's distress. Taking a deep breath, he knew he would have to choose his next words very carefully.
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Poppy Pomfrey's charm alerting her to any changes in her patient's vital signs began to sound. A quick look told her that Severus's blood pressure was sky-rocketing. As she hurried towards the back of the hospital wing to her patient's room, she thought perhaps the charm was malfunctioning. The wing was quiet and she knew the Headmaster was there. But as she turned the corner and stepped into the room, passing then through the silencing charm Dumbledore had cast, she was suddenly inundated by Severus's shouts, which to her seemed nearly incoherent.
Snape had propped himself up against the headboard and his eyes were wide and dark with something unreadable.
Dumbledore was speaking in a low but very firm voice. "Severus, I'm sorry, but this is not up for discussion."
"No, Albus…you won't do this to me," Snape exclaimed in anger.
"What the devil is going on here?" Pomfrey snapped.
"I'm sorry, Poppy," Dumbledore began. "This is my fault…we were discussing Severus returning to Voldemort and—"
"Returning?" Pomfrey interrupted, her eyes wide with horror. "Have you lost your mind, Albus?"
Realizing Poppy had misinterpreted him, Dumbledore explained, "I told Severus unequivocally that he would not be going back."
"What?" Poppy asked, now utterly confused as to why her patient appeared to be so very upset at that.
"Have you not heard me?" Snape roared, his voice still too scratchy and hoarse to be as loud as he intended. "He believes me, damn it…"
"You think he believes you, Severus," Dumbledore pressed. "And your instincts are almost always right, but I cannot let you risk you life again on that belief."
"You will not make that decision for me," Snape spat, his traumatized body heaving from apparent fury.
But all Dumbledore saw was fear.
Dumbledore stole a quick glance over at Pomfrey and immediately read the urgency in her expression. Severus's heart was racing and this was dangerous for a patient in such a fragile state.
Dumbledore immediately back-pedaled and spoke in a voice so calm it rivaled Fawkes's calming trills. "You're absolutely right, Severus. The decision is yours to make, not mine."
Snape eyes widened slightly. He hadn't been expecting to win that easily. Little did he know, he hadn't. "Now, we will discuss this at a later time," Dumbledore continued, "and I promise you that we will come to a decision together. I'm sorry, my boy. It was wrong of me to give you that ultimatum. I was just worried."
At Snape's subtle nod, Dumbledore turned to the medi-witch and said, "I think you may leave now, Poppy. I promise there will be no more disturbances."
"I'm holding you to that, Albus," she said sternly before leaving.
Dumbledore was relieved to see Severus's breathing and pulse slowly returning to normal. As the elder wizard took his seat, he contemplated how badly he had misjudged Severus's reaction. He had completely underestimated the degree to which Severus needed to feel useful – to the Order, to Hogwarts. Still unable to fathom the possibility of sending Severus back as a spy under any circumstances, Dumbledore thought perhaps if he could find some other significant role for Severus, that might appease him. But for the time being, Dumbledore felt it wise to relent in his firm stance, if only for Severus's sake.
Snapping the Headmaster out of his thoughts, Snape spoke, his voice persistent, "I'm certain he believes me, Albus."
"Severus, stop," Dumbledore replied. "Answer me this. Is my assumption correct that Voldemort will avoid any overt action, preferring to remain in hiding for the time being?"
"Yes, I believe so, but—"
Dumbledore interrupted, "And is there anything you need to tell me now that cannot wait a few weeks?"
Snape thought for a moment and then replied, "I suppose not, but—"
"Then I will hear no more of this now. Your health is my number one priority and it should be yours as well." Before Snape could reply, Dumbledore added, "You will rest and devote yourself to getting better and you will not think or speak of this until Poppy deems you ready."
"She won't ever do that," Snape grumbled.
"I will discuss it with her. But as you yourself said, there is no urgency in this," Dumbledore reminded Snape gently. "We can discuss our options for going forward in a few weeks time."
"What's to discuss? I'm going back, Albus, whether you give me permission or not," Snape blurted out in frustration. Oh shit.
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows slightly and Snape cringed inwardly at the rudeness of his own words.
As Severus lowered his eyes in contrition, Dumbledore shook his head. The last thing he wanted was for Severus to feel censured, but he also knew that, strangely enough, his stubborn friend required permission to focus on his recovery.
"We will discuss this," Dumbledore continued, "when Poppy consents to it and not one moment before." In a calm but stern voice, Dumbledore added, "Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, Headmaster," Snape replied meekly.
Dumbledore reached over and grabbed Severus's shaking hand. "Albus," Dumbledore corrected gently.
Snape nodded imperceptibly. While part of him wanted to tell Albus what had happened – if only to get the inevitable ordeal over with – in truth, he was glad to have this reprieve. From the little he had told Albus already, he knew that it was not going to be an easy task relaying the details of that night, particularly since he could barely think of it without feeling ill. Perhaps, he reflected, waiting was the prudent thing to do. Time would distance him from what had happened – and when one was a spy, that was always a good thing.
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The next morning Snape woke in Dumbledore's presence once more. The Headmaster was yet again surrounded by his usual deluge of mail.
"Please don't tell me you stayed here again, Albus," Snape said with a great deal of unease.
"Don't be silly, Severus," Dumbledore replied as he stood to fetch Severus's pain-reducer. "I just came down this morning." What Dumbledore failed to mention to Severus was that the only reason he hadn't stayed was due to Poppy's influence. Dumbledore had previously ignored the medi-witch's attempts to coax him back into his quarters. But last night, Poppy had finally convinced him by insisting that his presence would only make Severus uncomfortable. With that bit of information and the knowledge that Severus seemed to be out of critical condition, Dumbledore slept in his own bed for the first time in nearly a week.
Snape sighed as he felt the potion work its magic on his beaten body. Unfortunately it did nothing for the muscle spasms which left him unable to do much of anything. Eyeing the water at his bedside he realized there was no way he could reach for, let alone hold a glass steady.
Suddenly remembering yesterday's argument with Albus, Severus knew he needed to say something about his behavior. But it had been a long while since they had had anything resembling a row, and Severus wasn't sure what to say. With marked apprehension, he began, "Albus…about yesterday…I was rude. I should not have argued with you."
"Why ever not?" Dumbledore asked. "I do enjoy our arguments, Severus."
Snape raised his eyebrows at that pronouncement.
"Especially when I win," Dumbledore added with a gleam in his eyes and a bright smile that melted Severus's unease.
A few moments later, Dumbledore noticed that Severus was giving the glass of water at his bedside at furtive glance.
"Are you thirsty, Severus?"
"I suppose," Snape admitted reluctantly.
Dumbledore stood and lifted Severus's shaking body until he was half-sitting. He tipped the glass against Severus's lips and took note of the fact that Severus drank nearly all of its contents without stopping.
After gently placing Severus back down on the bed and resuming his seat, Dumbledore spoke. "Severus, as much as I know you despise the idea, you are going to ask for whatever it is you want for the next couple of weeks." Determined to break the tension emanating off of his Potions Master, he continued with a smile, "Despite my keen sense of perception, I can only anticipate so much. Unless, that is, you'd like me to read your mind." A pause. "I could do that you know," Dumbledore added with a twinkle.
"Merlin, have mercy," Snape replied with a smirk on the corners of his mouth.
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Snape spent the majority of those first few days in the hospital wing sleeping. Dumbledore took careful note of the fact that Severus required little if any prompting to sleep or to take his pain-reducer among his other healing potions. Whether it was because he was too weak to argue or in too much pain to, Dumbledore did not know. Nor did he care, as long as Severus was in bed and following Poppy's orders.
As Dumbledore eyed the visage of his sleeping Potions Master and friend, he reflected once more on the twelve or so hours of consciousness Severus had suffered after his return from Voldemort before he had finally slipped into a coma. Terrible hours in which Severus had, in his delirium, seen and spoken to him as villain, father, and friend. And Dumbledore found himself exceedingly relieved that Severus had no memory of it.
First and foremost, he was glad Severus did not remember the agony he had been in. The younger wizard had enough pain to contend with in the now, Dumbledore knew, without having to think on that excruciating ordeal as well. But perhaps more significantly, Severus would undoubtedly find the situation mortifying.
Dumbledore keenly understood that Severus was far too private, too reserved a man, not to be discomfited with the whole of what had transpired during that time – both the close physical contact that had been required between them and the emotional rawness of those hours.
But perhaps, Dumbledore was most relieved that Severus did not have to agonize over the amorous sentiments he had uttered in delirium and fear. Or, for that matter, Dumbledore's own reply.
With a heavy heart, Dumbledore realized now that Voldemort was back, Severus would have enough to worry about.
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The morning of the Leaving Feast, Severus's fifth day of consciousness in the hospital wing, he insisted he be released so that he might attend.
The Headmaster urged Snape back into bed. "Severus, I don't believe you are quite ready to leave the hospital wing," Dumbledore said tactfully. That was an understatement to be sure. Snape could barely sit up, let alone walk to and attend the Leaving Feast. And furthermore, Dumbledore couldn't imagine why he even wanted to.
"Now, Severus, tell me what this is about?"
"How will it look if I'm not there?"
"It will look like you are away on personal business, which is what everyone thinks already."
"Stop being naïve, Albus. You're going to announce the Dark Lord's return in a few hours. You don't think my absence will be conspicuous?!"
"You're afraid they'll think you're a Death Eater?" Dumbledore asked.
"Don't be silly," Snape huffed, "they already think that. I'm worried about the few halfway intelligent idiots who will figure out the truth."
Dumbledore knew that while that may have been true in small part, Severus was largely concerned with the idea of people suspecting that he was too weak or too injured to teach. He tried to convince his Potions Master that these things didn't matter, but Severus was unrelenting.
Dumbledore thought it best not to mention that the whole notion was ridiculous from a practical perspective. How could Severus even sit up through the meal? But Dumbledore knew if it came down to it, Severus would take any manner of potion (at likely risk to his well-being) to stabilize him for just long enough to put in an appearance, rather than let rumors fly about his absence.
With those thoughts in mind, Dumbledore considered his predicament. He could make Severus stay in the hospital wing for the moment, now that Severus was incapacitated and needed his help. But Dumbledore knew all too well that once Severus was strong enough to walk (or hobble for that matter) the tenacious wizard would not be so easy to reign in. And keeping him in the hospital wing bed for the duration of his recovery would be no easy feat. So Dumbledore decided to play his trump card and offer Severus an incentive he knew his Potions Master would not pass up.
"I'll make you a deal, Severus…" Dumbledore began and explained his offer to the younger wizard.
Once Dumbledore had finished, Snape looked at him suspiciously and said, "Let me get this straight. You're promising me a time turner to go back and attend the Leaving Feast when I'm recovered."
"On the condition that you remain in this bed and do everything Poppy asks of you until she clears you medically to leave," Dumbledore said in gentle reminder.
Snape scowled. "Then I'll be in here all summer!"
"A few weeks would be a better estimate I believe."
"A few weeks!? I'll go mad," Snape snapped.
"Severus, do you want the time turner or not?"
Suddenly realizing what this offer meant, Snape asked, "Wait a moment, Albus. If I can't use it until Poppy releases me, then I'll have to go back in time a few weeks. The time turner's not approved for traveling back that length of time."
Dumbledore replied, "Not officially, no."
"So you'll—" Snape began.
"Break the Ministry rules? Yes. Between us, of course."
"But how—" Snape started to ask.
"We will discuss the details when the time comes."
"But won't—" Snape tried again.
"I have a charm to mitigate the effects on your body's circadian clock," Dumbledore explained.
"Really?" Snape asked in marveling astonishment.
"Yes. Now do we have a deal, my boy?"
Snape thought for a long moment and then replied strategically, "If I'm going to be traveling back a few weeks anyway, I should take advantage of that fact and teach my last week of classes as well."
Dumbledore smiled. He had fully expected Severus to bargain with him. "Done," Dumbledore replied.
Snape's eyes widened at Dumbledore assent to his request. It was followed quickly by a sharp look of dismay. "Damn," Snape said. "If I knew you were going to be this easy, I would have also asked for the review session with my N.E.W.T. students."
Dumbledore chuckled. "I'd be happy to consent to that as well."
"And a few meals," Snape pressed further. "I don't want any rumors."
Dumbledore gave Severus a stern look. "You're rather pushing your luck, aren't you, dear boy?"
"The air of invincibility never hurt a Death Eater, Albus," Snape said seriously.
Dumbledore paused for a moment and replied thoughtfully, "Perhaps you are right, Severus."
A moment later Pomfrey entered the room and Dumbledore exclaimed happily, "Poppy, I have some excellent news. Severus will be obeying your every request for the next few weeks."
"I'll believe that when I see it," Pomfrey retorted.
"We've come to an arrangement," Dumbledore explained.
"Oh really? Well then," Pomfrey continued, "it's time for your potions and then a nice long nap for you, Severus."
Snape scowled at the idea of another nap. At Dumbledore's raised eyebrows, he said, "I never agreed to be nice about it, Albus."
Dumbledore chuckled as Snape began downing his potions.
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As Dumbledore watched Severus fall into a much needed sleep, he wondered briefly if he'd made the right decision. Although time turner use was always a risky proposition, Dumbledore consoled himself with the knowledge that it would have been far riskier to not make this deal; Severus would likely have done more damage by pushing himself too hard, too fast, too soon. This way at least, Severus would stop dwelling on the time he had missed and hopefully devote himself fully to his recovery.
Moreover, Dumbledore was determined to do whatever he could to make sure that Severus did just that. Notwithstanding his promise to follow Poppy's orders, Dumbledore knew that the coming weeks would be difficult ones for Severus. He was not the type of man who handled being confined to a bed or being reliant on others well.
Despite Severus's protestations otherwise, Dumbledore recognized that he would need company.
And Dumbledore found he was more than happy to oblige.
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Severus Snape wondered why Albus was spending so much time with him.
Pomfrey was in and out, of course, scanning him incessantly, performing healing spells when they were needed, and, on occasion, rubbing toxic-smelling potions into his muscles (oh, the indignity of it all)! He would have complained about the smell had he not brewed them himself.
But by and large Albus was the one who took care of him. His body was too incapacitated, his hands too unsteady, to do the most mundane of things. So Albus did them. Everything from delivering his potions to helping him to the bathroom. From assisting him with his physical therapy to feeding him. The list was nearly endless.
But Albus did a great deal more for him than simply attending to these daily necessities. He provided the sorts of comforts Snape would have never expected.
Albus was incredibly generous with his time, and he did everything to spare Snape from boredom. The elder wizard brought new reading material every day – books, magazines, and to Snape's great surprise, Potions journals. And Dumbledore would read to him for hours. Albus had even taken the liberty of obtaining a few new subscriptions to some of the most obscure (and fascinating!) Potions publications. Snape knew Dumbledore could not possibly have been interested in most of these articles and he had said as much, but Dumbledore dismissed his concerns and insisted he rather enjoyed the reading.
In between manuscripts, Dumbledore would encourage him to nap. Snape detested the fact that he was constantly tired even though he was lying in bed all day. But the torment of taking naps was mitigated by the fact that when he woke, Albus would offer him food and tea, and they would read some more.
Of course his infirmity did enrage him at times. Whenever he was in a particularly foul mood, Dumbledore always had the most audacious story to tell him. Snape would inevitably accuse Albus of making up the story. But Dumbledore would always insist it was true. And before long, Snape would be so enraptured by the tale, he could almost forget he was confined to a bed and barely able to move.
As much as Snape hated – no, loathed – having Albus see him in such a vulnerable state, attending to him like he were a child, the simple matter of it was, he would have gone mad if it hadn't been for Albus. He was the sole bright spot in the gloom that was the hospital wing.
From his bed, Snape stared out at the panoramic view of the forest and Hogsmeade in the distance. Well not so gloomy anymore, Snape reconsidered. Dumbledore had taken it upon himself to change the stone walls into a large expanse of windows on two sides of the room. It was lovely, Snape thought. When Dumbledore had performed the transfiguration, he'd only grumbled that the room was now too bright. But looking out over the expanse of forest, Snape knew he wouldn't want it any other way.
With the exception of nighttime, Dumbledore had barely left his side. That was until today. The Headmaster had gone to London very early in the morning to solidify the Order's wards and to meet with some Order members.
Snape had thought this rare opportunity for privacy would be a welcome one. But he found strangely enough that he'd rather grown accustomed to Albus's company. Not to mention the fact that he was beginning to realize how difficult it was fending for oneself in the state he was in. The problem of the moment was attempting to drink the tea the house elf had just brought him. He could have called for Poppy, of course, but he would have rather died of thirst.
A simple Wingardium Leviosa would have made the situation much easier, but he was strictly prohibited from using magic until he was recovered. For the third time, Snape tried to steady his hands enough to grip the cup in between his palms. His body, however, would not cooperate, and the cup shook, rattling loudly against the saucer, before finally tipping over on the tray. Frustrated beyond measure, Snape cursed loudly and swatted his fist at the cup, causing it to fly across the room and shatter at the Headmaster's feet.
"Albus," Snape exclaimed in surprise. Feeling extraordinary foolish for acting out like a child, he stammered, "I'm sorry…I didn't see you there."
Dumbledore, however, seemed quite unruffled by the outburst. "It's quite alright, Severus. I'm sure it must have done something rather horrible to deserve that," he said with a twinkle.
Without a word, the cup lifted off the floor and reassembled itself in Dumbledore's hand. "Let me pour you some more tea, Severus," Dumbledore offered.
"It's fine. I don't want anymore," Snape protested somewhat nervously.
But Dumbledore had already begun to pour a fresh cup of what he soon found to be Earl Grey. Knowing that Pomfrey had forbidden black tea, Dumbledore asked with raised eyebrows, "What's this?"
Snape, for his part, simply replied, "I thought you were away for the rest of the day."
"I finished early. But my absence has no bearing on the fact that Poppy said no caffeine for you, Severus."
"Those herbal blends she's been giving me are revolting," Snape complained with a look of displeasure.
Dumbledore snapped his fingers and Dobby appeared in an instant. "Dobby, please bring a pot my mango herbal blend, enough for two. I think you'll enjoy it, Severus." A pause. "Have you been sleeping today?"
Snape sighed in frustration. "For Merlin's sake, Albus. Need you even ask? It's all I ever do anymore!"
"Poppy said that's perfectly normal. Your body requires significant regeneration, Severus."
Snape grunted something unintelligible.
Moments after the tea appeared, Snape leaned back into the pillows Dumbledore had fluffed for him and watched, in amused fascination, as Dumbledore busied himself with preparing the tea. Snape had always known that Albus had a strange mania about how his tea was made. But over the past two weeks, Snape had learned that Dumbledore seemed to find particular relish in the act of preparing tea for him. Snape typically enjoyed his black with little or no sugar, but he couldn't pass up the chance to watch Albus measure a spoonful of honey with a critical, almost calculating eye.
Snape was broken out of his reverie by Dumbledore asking, "What are you smirking at, my boy?"
"You, of course."
Dumbledore smiled. He started to say something, but was interrupted by a sharp pop, signaling the house elf's return. "Thank you, Dobby. Please also bring some sandwiches and some hearty soup for Professor Snape."
As Dobby made his exit, Snape asked, "And how do you know I haven't eaten?"
Dumbledore stared intuitively at his friend and asked, "Have you?"
"No!" Snape admitted with exasperation. "But that's besides the point. You need to stop coddling me, Albus, or I'll be stuck in this bed for—"
Dumbledore chose that precise moment to press the teacup to Severus's lips. Snape rolled his eyes but drank and admitted with some prodding that the tea wasn't half-bad. He grumbled something about it probably being better if he were drinking it himself. Although Dumbledore told him he was being silly, Snape was growing rather frustrated of having to depend on others – namely Albus – to help him with these everyday tasks.
Snape knew that Albus must have been long tired of this as well – Merlin knew he was not an easy man to take care of! The very last thing Snape wanted was to become a burden to the Headmaster, and he was just that. It was time he started learning how to feed himself, among other things. Dumbledore had spent too much of his precious time with him already in Snape's own estimation.
When the food arrived some minutes later, Snape decided to make an effort to eat the soup on his own. He was starving, and even if half the soup ended up on the floor, he didn't care – he was going to handle this himself. Snape's contemplation of a strategy for eating the soup was sharply interrupted by Albus shoving a spoonful of it into his mouth.
He swallowed reflexively and growled irritably, "I can feed myself, you know."
Dumbledore didn't bother to contradict him. "Of course you can, Severus. It's just faster this way."
Snape grumbled and said not unkindly, "You're patronizing me. Don't think I don't know it."
"Just a little," Dumbledore teased. "You're doing very well, Severus. Poppy has been amazed with your progress."
"Oh yes, I'm just doing splendidly. I can't even feed myself," Snape exclaimed.
"But that isn't permanent and you know that. What does it matter if you're on the mend for a few weeks?"
After eating half a sandwich and being fed soup for what seemed like an eternity, Snape tried to grab the spoon from Dumbledore, but ended up knocking its contents onto his nightshirt. "Damn."
"Severus, let me…"
Snape reached for the napkin on the tray, but his hand convulsed, causing him to spill the remainder of the soup onto his lap. "Bloody hell!"
Dumbledore quickly cleared up the mess. "It's alright, Severus."
"Alright?" Snape snapped. "I'm a fucking invalid!" Barely a tick later, he added softly, "I'm sorry, Albus."
"Severus," Dumbledore began consolingly, "You are too hard on yourself. There is no reason to rush your recovery." Snape grumbled something under his breath, but Dumbledore ignored it and continued, "I'm here to help you, my boy."
"Yes. I'm sure you have nothing better to do than to tend to me day in and day out," Snape said with self-deprecating sarcasm.
"No, I don't actually," Dumbledore replied.
Snape stared at Dumbledore with wide eyes. His immediate impulse was to protest, but he was promptly silenced by Dumbledore, who had raised both his hands up in front of him.
With a wiggle of his fingers, there appeared in Dumbledore's hands two glossy, resplendent issues of the cutting edge magazine Potions Aficionado. Dumbledore enticingly held each out in turn to Severus and asked, with a bright smile and a gleam in his eyes, "Now then, which shall we read today?"
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Author's Note: I offer my profuse apologies for the long wait. Thanks for sticking with me despite the delay and for all your amazing reviews last time. Kisses to you all for your kind words and your patience!
I had some serious crises regarding this chapter. I won't bore you with the details, but I eventually ended up with a chapter so out of control, I had to stop writing and split what I had intended to be one chapter into two. Part of my dilemma was how to discuss Voldemort (don't fret...I'll get to him later...sort of) without losing the gentle moments between Albus and Severus which are, to me, the very crux of this story. In the last sequence, I try to convey a strange sort of familiarity between them. They remain still so far apart and yet this experience is obviously a transformative one, more so for Snape. It's subtle (and it's supposed to be) and here I am whacking you over the head with it. Sorry.
On an important note: You must all take a moment and check out my new story, 'Much Madness is Divinest Sense,' which is posted here. It's AD/SS, but unlike UG, this one is a comedy and I think you will find it very entertaining. I hope you give it a try.
Also, by popular request, I am happy to place anyone who asks by email on my email update list for this or any other story.
I look forward to your comments as always. Thank you for taking the time to read and review.