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 13: Calling him back

Still numb from his ordeal of the past hours, Snape stumbled down the corridor towards the Great Hall, his mind trying futilely to process all that he had just seen. As he neared the staff entrance at the back of the Hall, he could clearly hear the clamor within, the chorus of voices, the sound of dinnerware scraping against plates; dinner was obviously well underway. Stowing his cane out of sight, he grasped the handle of the door in his hand, but somehow, it refused to turn. Suddenly the numbness he had felt was morphing into a crushing anxiety, its weight growing unbearably hot in his chest. Albus was behind that door.

Snape had just used the time turner to skip forward three days to the evening of his N.E.W.T. review session, the time he was originally supposed to visit. He was due to attend dinner, which would serve the purpose of alerting Albus to his presence in this timeline. But the very thought of seeing Dumbledore now, after what he had just witnessed, was nearly too much to bear.

Of course he wouldn't be having a conversation with Albus – in fact, quite the opposite – he wasn't allowed to speak with him at all given the time turner's rules. And even though Albus wasn't privy to his adventures with the time turner over the past hours, the prospect of being in the same room again with the Headmaster provoked an unwelcome and overwhelming stream of emotions.

An even greater horror dawned on him at that moment; after he'd finished with his classes this week and had returned back to his normal time, Albus was expecting him for tea. The notion was almost preposterous to him now. The Headmaster would undoubtedly ask about his experience with the time turner, and Severus realized he'd be forced to do something he didn't want to, he'd have to lie to Albus. Because one thing Snape knew with unequivocal certainly was that he would never mention what he'd seen during those hours to Albus. Never. However much withholding the truth from Albus would pain him, it paled in comparison to the humiliation of being witness to his weaknesses, to his unprovoked confessions of that night.

The irony of this, Snape considered, was that Albus probably did not even understand the truth behind his most poignant admission. Snape couldn't be certain, but Albus had most likely designated those three important words to the realm of their longstanding friendship.

How easily his twisting, shaking body could mask the words as delusional or ill-considered or insignificant. But Snape had seen his counterpart's face as he'd said them. There was nothing delusional about the way they had been spoken – they were said in one of the rare true moments of lucidity his counterpart had experienced throughout the whole ordeal. And Severus knew that that man, that he, had wanted for Albus to truly understand the meaning of those words, to finally know the truth.

It had been obvious from the surrender he'd seen on the ill man's face at that moment. The surrender of emotion, the desire to completely open himself in a way he hadn't been able to some weeks before when Dumbledore had opened his mind to him. How Severus had longed to reciprocate then, how he had yearned to give himself over to those bright blue eyes, that piercing yet welcoming gaze. Memories of his reticence in that moment, his emotional retreat, still brought on profound feelings of regret.

Over the past several hours, Snape's hatred for that man lying in the infirmary bed had grown to almost epoch proportions. But a deeper part of him, a part he couldn't even acknowledge, was awed by that man. He'd done something he couldn't. And even if it had been done in moment of weakness, it was something that Snape at his strongest couldn't imagine doing.

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Many minutes later, Snape had still not moved. Shaking himself from this introspection, he eyed the door handle in front of him once more.

He took several deep steadying breaths to try and clear his troubled mind. Reminding himself of his task in a series of simple commands seemed to make it easier – enter, sit, eat, speak as little as possible. Now that didn't seem so bad.

His thoughts turned once again to Albus and Minerva who at any moment would see him. They believed him to be in the hospital wing at this very moment, lying in a coma. The last thing they would expect was for him to enter, apparently uninjured. When he'd asked about this 'little' detail, Albus had assured him that it wasn't a cause of concern.

With mounting unease, Snape entered the Great Hall. The room was its usual noisy self, with faculty and students too engaged in their conversations to pay him much, if any, notice. He walked in measured steps, taking care to disguise his limp. The distance was a short one, but it seemed to take him forever to reach his chair.

Flitwick was the first to notice him, giving him a small smile. Hooch greeted him with her usual enthusiasm. "Good evening, Severus."

As soon as the words were spoken, Minerva turned her gaze sharply toward him. When their eyes met, Snape could see the color drain from her face, and she dropped the silver fork she'd been holding. It clattered to the ground, the ding of it on the stone floor seeming absurdly loud in that moment. Snape remained frozen, but not in anticipation for her reaction.

He could see that Albus had gone completely still in his chair, and when he looked up, Severus's eyes met that familiar bright blue gaze for a split second. Dumbledore's eyes closed almost instantly, and he heaved a deep, hiccupping sigh of relief. As Snape took his seat, as always next the Headmaster, they both avoided any further eye contact.

The moment seemed to stretch indefinitely and eventually Snape became aware of Albus resume his breathing with a gasping inhalation, making Snape wonder if he'd also been holding his breath this entire time. Dumbledore leaned over in the opposite direction and began to whisper something in the ear of his trembling deputy. Although he couldn't hear the words, Snape knew it to be an explanation, as he sensed Minerva beginning to calm.

Snape couldn't understand this. Dumbledore knew. How this Dumbledore knew who he was, how he could know immediately that this wasn't the same Severus in the hospital wing was mind-boggling. Somehow, Albus was aware of the alternate timeline, although how that was possible was beyond Severus's imagination.

The 15 minutes Snape sat silently at the Head Table felt like the longest of his life. Albus's presence was forcing the memory of what he had been witnessing for the past several hours to intrude into the forefront of his mind. He hadn't eaten in as many hours, but despite his attempts, his gut protested the idea of eating. He spent most of the time moving his potatoes from one side of the plate to the other, and found he was inexplicably grateful for the silence that the time turner mandated.

Snape didn't have to worry about the rest of the faculty engaging him in conversation. Other than Hooch, most of them knew better than to interrupt him when he was in such a quiet mood. For her part, Minerva spent the entire time casting furtive glances at him, as if to convince herself that he was real.

Although he did not dare to look to his right for fear of meeting Dumbledore's gaze once more, Snape's attention was still intently focused on man sitting next to him. Studying Albus's hands through his peripheral vision, Snape realized how much of his emotions the Headmaster betrayed through them. At the minutes passed, Dumbledore's relief seemed to dispel as well. His hands began to fidget as they often did when he was confused, and then he steepled his fingers together which without fail indicated that he was deep in thought, trying to work out some complex problem.

When Dumbledore's concentrated pensiveness persisted, Snape wondered if this had anything to do with his appearance. When he'd first entered the hall, Dumbledore had seemed to immediately understand his presence, barely pausing before explaining it to McGonagall. Snape couldn't imagine what the sudden shift in the Headmaster's attitude might mean.

Knowing he'd done more than enough to alert Albus to his presence, Snape discretely exited the Great Hall without a word and headed to his Potions N.E.W.T. review session.

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There was much to be said for the palliative effects of lecturing about potions for two hours. The tension had held Snape's body captive over the better part of the day faded as he answered his seventh year's questions about their upcoming exam. By the end of the session, Snape felt almost human again.

In the absence of the anxiety that had long been controlling his person, he felt exhausted and decided to catch some sleep before he used the time turner to skip forward to attend his week of upcoming classes. On the way to his dungeon quarters, however, Snape was stopped mid-step by a furtive conversation taking place in the corridor.

Pomfrey and McGonagall may have been whispering, but Snape could hear them well enough to make out of the words.

"…I've tried talking to him of course," McGonagall was saying, "but you know Albus, he won't listen to me. Perhaps if you spoke with him."

"I've tried, Minerva, believe me."

"He should get a decent night's rest. He has business in London early tomorrow morning."

"I know. He's made me promise to send Fawkes if Severus's condition changes."

"Well, I thought I'd come and offer to relieve him tonight. He must be exhausted."

"Good luck with that," Pomfrey countered. "I've stopped trying to convince him to take a break; he's very insistent about staying." Pomfrey's attitude grew somber then, her expression and voice suddenly becoming serious. "I think perhaps…" Pomfrey began, hesitating slightly, "you shouldn't press Albus about leaving Severus tonight."

"Why?"

Pomfrey sighed deeply, her expression grave.

McGonagall's eyes went wide with shock. "Poppy, you don't mean…?"

Pomfrey made a visible effort to speak, but failed. She simply shook her head.

"Come on. We shouldn't be discussing this here," McGonagall said, her voice unreadable as she directed Poppy in the direction of the hospital wing.

Snape was stunned by what he was overhearing. Poppy's attitude seemed to suggest that she didn't expect him to recover. But that made no sense. He would be waking up sometime early tomorrow morning, when Albus was in London. Perhaps Poppy was over exaggerating his condition, but her despondent manner suggested otherwise.

Despite the reward his earlier curiosity had earned him, Snape decided to follow the two women. Before he entered the hospital wing, he once again retrieved his invisibility potion from within his robes. With just about one drop left, Snape finished the remainder of the vial.

As he entered Poppy's office, he could hear that the two women were already deep in conversation.

"I've never seen a coma from Cruciatus overdose last three days with a positive outcome," Pomfrey explained gravely.

"But… but this can't be right. Albus was so sure Severus was going to recover." The reason for McGonagall's confusion suddenly became evident to Snape. She'd just seen him not two hours ago in the Great Hall. Albus must have explained what that meant. Yet Poppy was telling her that he was on the verge of death.

"How confident are you, Poppy?" she pressed. "Are you sure?"

"Unfortunately yes. His breathing is becoming more shallow and labored by the hour, and his voluntary movements, pain response and reflexes are now completely nonexistent. Theses are all signs that his coma has deepened beyond recovery."

Snape was reeling in the face of this information. He was supposed to die? This was at once both startling and strange. It had to be a misdiagnosis on Pomfrey's part, although that didn't have the ring of truth to him. Although Snape had repeatedly questioned Poppy during his recovery, he had to concede that despite her rather sentimental approach to healing, she was an exceptionally qualified medi-witch.

McGonagall was clearly warring with these conflicting pieces of information. "Albus is going to be devastated. He thinks…" she paused, clearly uncertain about what she could reveal to Poppy. "Just this evening he was so confident that Severus was going to pull through."

"I wish it were so," Poppy said grimly. "I've contacted the premier experts on Cruciatus overdose at St. Mungo's. They all concur. Barring some sort of miracle, Minerva, he's going to pass."

McGonagall's eyes were rapidly filling with tears as she processed and began to accept the information Poppy was relaying to her. Snape was half-tempted to reveal himself and scream, 'I'm fine, see. I'm going to wake up tomorrow.'

"Have you shared this with Albus?" McGonagall asked carefully.

"About twenty minutes ago," Poppy replied. "He's with Severus now."

For her part, Poppy Pomfrey couldn't help but remember the look on the Headmaster's face when she'd given him the news. At first, he's been completely disbelieving of her words. He'd spent many minutes trying to convince her that she had to be mistaken, that she must have been overlooking some sign of recovery on Severus's person. But as she presented her case about Severus's deteriorating condition, the range of emotion on the Headmaster's face was something she was quite certain no one had ever seen before.

"Poppy," he'd managed in a shaky voice, his expression inconsolable, "are you absolutely sure?"

"I'm so sorry, Headmaster," she'd said, unable to finish the remainder of her thought. 'It won't be long now.' But the words hung on her breath, and Dumbledore heard them.

The silence that had stretched between them was unbearable.

Only when Dumbledore was sure that he could speak, he had said, "Thank you, Poppy, for everything you've done for him." And with that, he had withdrawn to Severus's private room.

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Snape followed Minerva McGonagall as she made her way toward the private ward where his other self resided. She stopped deliberately before the closed door and took a deep breath, steeling herself for what would most certainly be a difficult and emotional conversation with the Headmaster. She knocked and entered without waiting for a reply, leaving the door ajar such that Severus could see within.

Snape's shock at what he saw was mirrored in McGonagall's face. Dumbledore had drawn his wand (a rare enough sight at it was), and was pointing it directly at the immobile figure in the bed!

"Albus! What in Merlin's name are you doing?"

Dumbledore turned to her and the devastation on his face was unmistakable. "I have to, Minerva." Dumbledore lowered his wand, and continued in a trembling voice, "He should be getting better by now, but Poppy said he's… taken a turn for the worst." Dumbledore paused, straining to regain his composure. "But just now at dinner, he looked at me, and I knew."

Snape was as confused as McGonagall professed herself to be. "Severus, from the time turner, looked at you," she repeated. "I don't understand. Did he say something to you?"

"No."

"You can't possibly have some sense of the alternate timeline, Albus?" Her words were spoken as a half statement, a half incredulous question.

"I can't explain it. I just know I have to do something. I know I have to at least try."

Snape was listening intently, carefully measuring each word.

"Do what exactly?" McGonagall asked, clearly stunned by Dumbledore's words and confused by his intentions. "Do you even know what you're doing, Albus?"

"Honestly, no… but I imagine I'll muddle through."

McGonagall did not relent. Whether her concerns were for Dumbledore or for the infirmed man lying on the bed, Snape did not know. "How do you know Severus won't heal on his own? How do you know you won't be making things worse?"

Dumbledore shook his head fervently. "No. Poppy was quite clear that she believed Severus wouldn't make it through the night," these last words said in a shaky whisper. "I know Severus," Dumbledore said through a shaky breath. "And I know he's giving up… he's letting go."

"Albus―"

"I've got to bring him back to me, Minerva!" Dumbledore exclaimed, his voice thick with emotion. "I've got to try and reach him. I've got to tell him to keep fighting."

Snape felt something drop inside him then. The once jumbled pieces were assembling with rapid clarity.

As Dumbledore raised his wand once more and whispered the Legilimens incantation, Snape nearly collapsed to the ground with the force of the epiphany.

That voice! The voice he had heard so distinctly inside his head as he lay in a coma. He was so certain it had been nothing but a delusion, nothing but misfiring neurotransmitters in his brain, or perhaps his subconscious, too stubborn to pass over to the other side. But it had been Albus all along.

Overwhelmed by this sudden knowledge, Snape's heart was pounding painfully in his chest.The memory of that voice inside his mind surfaced with stunning clarity.

It wasn't so much a voice, Snape remembered, rather than a feeling that had spread throughout his mind, unrelenting in its force. Penetrating the darkness he was trapped in, enrapturing him in a unique warmth, tantalizing him with its power, pleading with him to heal, coaxing him to awaken.

He could not have resisted it; the inexplicable urge to succumb to it was too compelling to ignore. But more than that, he would have followed that voice anywhere. And he had. He had woken up from his coma the following morning.

Snape fought to steady himself in the face of this profound revelation, even as it seemed the very ground he walked on was being wrenched out from under him.

Albus had been right – he had given up, had been on the verge of letting go. But out of nowhere had come another chance, that voice giving him the will to live. Albus had saved him yet again.

He should have known long ago whom it belonged to. The moment Albus had opened his mind to him that day in his office during his recovery, the feeling had been so inexplicably familiar. Now he knew why. He'd felt Albus's mind once before, here, although he had no conscious memory of the event. But that feeling – that tranquil contentment – was the same he'd experienced once before.

Erased now was any doubt as to why he had obeyed it without question, why he had followed that voice guiding him out of the darkness, leading him back to life. Calling him back… to Albus.

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Author's note: Thank you to everyone for your reviews of the last chapter. I am so pleased at the response despite my having been away so long. When it comes to this story, I can't tell you how much your reviews mean to me.

As for this chapter, I hope it comes as much as a pleasant/interesting surprise to you all as it does to Severus. In case you are interested, the section where Severus wars with this intruding voice in his mind can be found in the first section of Chapter 7. The clues that this is Albus speaking to him are subtle.

Also, just wanted to update everyone about my snarry, In Memory's Wake. I mention it here because it contains a great deal of Dumbledore-Snape interaction (although paternal friendship in nature) and will contain significant chapters where Dumbledore acts as Snape's therapist. The more I write that story, the more I've realized how much I want it to revolve around their relationship (surprise surprise!) so I thought I'd let you all know if case you are interested.

Thank you everyone for reading and I look forward to your comments as always.