Remembrance and Renewal by Avatar Arkmage and Nigel Tatsuya
Chapter Thirteen: Siege on Saint Mungos Hospital For Magical Maladies and Injuries
Beneath his skin lurked the ghost of a violent father; his own. Severus stared in astonishment at Harry, who recoiled from Severus's violent treatment of him on the floor.
"Sevvie," Mervidith forestalled her teenaged son. "Let me give him his fever reducer..."
"It's quite all right, mother." Severus stated, resuming his course up the stairs, and toward the bedroom shared by his parents.
"You've only been home for two days," Mervidith insisted, seeking to take the vessel from her son's hands. "I don't want you hurt."
"And do you believe it is any easier for me to watch idly as you're beaten again?" Severus shot back. "Besides, this should not wake him."
But as Severus crept towards the four poster where Lucien Snape thrashed feverishly, the youth's whole body began to quiver, betraying his trepidation. When it appeared as though the unseen assailants in Lucien Snape's dreams had granted him a few moments of respite, Severus carefully applied the fever reducing salve to his father's forehead.
Lucien wrapped an arm around Severus's neck, trapping him in a vice-like headlock. "Bloody Hell, boy! You've been brewing potions again?"
"No, f-father!" Severus stammered on what little air his lungs were allotted.
"Liar!" Lucien shouted, tightening his hold. He raised the salve too close to Severus's face for the youth to effectively focus on it. "Did you think I would not recognise it? You think I am unaware of your methods of potion brewing? Your potions are very distinct! Distinct in their effectiveness, and even in their smell! You prepared this salve didn't you?"
Deciding that lying any further would only earn him more of his father's wrath, Severus nodded.
"You've disobeyed me yet again!"
"What else would you have had me do?" Severus cried, as Lucien began shaking him. "You're ill!"
"So leave me be, then! I can heal well enough without you!" Lucien shouted, using his last reserve of strength to punch Severus firmly in the jaw.
The shame, that he had dealt his own son precisely the same ill treatment his own father had with him, was overpowering. Severus clambered weakly out of bed, and staggered to the boy's side. "Harry?"
Harry backed away, more as a matter of course, rather than because he truly feared Severus would strike him again. His harsh treatment from adults throughout his life had reinforced this reflexive behaviour a countless number of times.
"Let me see," Snape demanded in his familiar, though very forced, baritone voice.
Harry retreated further, still hiding his face in his hands, as he felt himself beginning to cry like a child who had just been punished too harshly for an infraction he had not been guilty of. "It's okay, father." But his voice betrayed him, because his words came out sounding like sobs.
"No, no, no..." Snape mumbled in silence. It was with great dread and desolation that Severus concluded that he was precisely the kind of parent his own father had been toward him. Harry did not deserve that sort of life. Severus coaxed Harry's hands from his face and examined in abhorrence at the fresh red mark appearing on Harry's jaw.
Harry attempted to force a smile, but his face twisted in noncompliance, and more tears forced their way from his eyes. "I'm okay, father. Really..."
Severus's heart sank lower than it already had, if it was at all possible. In Harry's every word, every quavering of his swelling lower lip, and in his every gesture, however small, Severus saw his younger self, fearfully regarding his own father. The high fever rendered his vision into the past clearer than ever, free from the distortions afforded by blissful non-remembrance.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I'm so sorry." Severus tried to say, but no words came from mouth. How could he have hurt his own son? The question repeated in his mind like a mantra. How could he hurt the very pre-born soul he had pined after for nearly seventeen years? The little green eyed angel?
Harry took a deep breath. "I know you didn't mean to hit me, father. I shouldn't have tried to wake you. Shaking you like that, I might have hit me too. I probably deserved this, didn't it?"
Severus could not look away from the darkening bruise on Harry's jaw, even though the mere thought of it utterly repulsed him . "No Harry, thoughtless though you might often be, you did not deserve that. A father should never..." but he could not finish.
After several more apologies which neither seemed willing to accept, Severus hauled Harry into the loo and washed the youth's bruised face in the basin. He then pried Harry's mouth open and examined the inside, looking for any bruising or other damage the blow might have caused.
Harry paradoxically enjoyed his father's ministrations, despite the fact that he once again felt like a potion ingredient under the master's intense scrutiny before its addition to the caldron. "Do you know any healing charms?"
"Of course I do," Severus replied as he palpated the bump Harry had received when his head hit the wall. "Does it hurt here?"
"No, not at all."
Severus frowned inwardly at that. He knew very well a contusion of that nature would hurt terribly, and he had asked that question more to gauge Harry's response. Harry had answered in precisely the way Severus would have. He had often denied being in pain, or hurt as well.
"Father?" Harry called when Severus stood abruptly to retrieve a healing potion from a nearby cupboard.
Severus turned around, feigning more indifference than he actually felt.
"Could you... well... uh..."
"What, Potter?"
"Could you please heal me?" Harry implored. He wondered why he had requested such a frivolous thing, being that his wounds were so superficial, but he could not recant his words now. Did he merely crave the attentions of his only living parent?
Still bearing a ponderous burden of guilt at having been the cause of Harry's injuries, Severus tentatively considered the request. Using his own magics could prove to be extremely dangerous, but he had hurt the youth. It was only right that he should make amends for beating his own child.
Yes, Severus determined. He was not as cruel a father as Lucien Snape had been to him. He hadn't hit Harry out of malice...
...Or had he...?
Without a word, Severus herded Harry back to the bed, and secured him between the sheets as though he were packing a large item into a parcel. That was, after all, something fathers all over the world did, wasn't it? He spent more time than necessary fluffing Harry's pillows and adjusting the blankets, as he considered whether or not to grant the request.
"Very well." Severus said in resignation at last. He hadn't been able to refuse Lily much of anything, especially when her bright green eyes held him in their vice-like gaze. Harry's almost identical eyes did that now, and Severus found he could not refuse his son this, even though it would mean more great injury, or perhaps even death to himself. Is it not better for a youth to be brought up away from an abusing parent, after all?
'NO!' Severus heard the voice of his younger self admonish him. 'Harry needs you! Would you have seen Lucien Snape dead, rather than endure his beatings?'
At that, Severus determined that he would channel his magics as cautiously as possible. With any luck, he would not cause himself too much injury. The added pain from the additional wounds would in all likelihood serve as a reminder to be a better father to Harry, than Lucien had been to him. "I will heal you. But I want you to close your eyes."
"Close my eyes? But why? Madam Pomfrey never..."
"Do as you're instructed!"
Harry flinched at the firmness of his father's tone. "Okay, I'm sorry. I didn't want to sound so...so...impertinent, as you would say, I think?
"Indeed! I'll tolerate no further impertinence from you! Keep your eyes closed until I say otherwise, boy!"
Harry suppressed a huge smile, and shut his eyes tightly. Evidently fatherhood had done little to change dour Professor Snape, his sharp tongue anyhow. It was enough for Harry that Severus was about to heal him. When he was whole again, Harry vowed to give Severus a big surprise in turn; he'd heal Severus whether he liked it or not, using every healing spell and regeneration charm he knew.
"You are not to open your eyes until I tell you, understood ?" Severus repeated one final time.
Harry appeared to regress at least ten years at that point. Having to close his eyes in this manner felt almost like a game of sorts. "Okay okay, go on then!"
With only the faint light of the waning crescent moon to illuminate the crystal black sky, the darkness was essentially palpable. Every street lamp on the narrow thoroughfare had been extinguished by a wizard's put-outer, leaving only the ghostly silhouettes of the trees and houses in its wake.
Resolute Manor stood tenebrously against the glinting stars, allowing not a single photon to abscond from either its windows or even its most inconsequential crevice. Soundwaves likewise dared not venture past the wards cast over the entire perimeter of the estate.
Misrepresenting itself as a dilapidated, and all but abandoned structure, Resolute Manor betrayed nothing of its occupants within. On this night, the Death Eaters, who had been laying low following one of their largest scale raids since Voldemort's second rise, met within the walls of Resolute Manor. Safe from the Aurors patrolling streets throughout Britain. Safe from the banal eyes of the ministry. Safe from interference from The Order Of The Phoenix.
"But Master!" shrieked Narcissa Malfoy from within Goyle's clutches. "what have we done?"
"Not ''what you did' persssssonally," Lord Voldemort derided the blonde woman, before casting a sidelong glance at her pale haired son, who went so ashen even his lips lost what little colour they had, "in failing their assssssignment, your incompetent husband and son have selected you as our diverssssion."
"Diversion for what?" Draco asked with his characteristic sneer.
"We will need to gain entry into St. Mungosssss hospital tonight," The Dark Lord slunk around Draco and the recruit holding him in a headlock. "Becaussse the hossspital is full, they will only recccceive emergency patientssss. We will accompany thossse patientssss..." Voldemort cast a red-eyed glare at Narcissa, then at Draco, " into the hosssspital. Whilsst they are being sorted out, we will carry out the resssst of our misssssion."
"Why not just injure some filthy mudbloods and accompany them in?" Narcissa protested, "they would be just as good a diversion as any?"
"Oh my dear, dear Narcissssa. You will have to pay dearly for quesssstioning me. Just as your ssson, and your husssband must each pay penancccce for their failuresss." Voldemort caressed her cheek in a gesture of mock tenderness.
"No! Nooo!" Narcissa shrieked as Voldemort motioned to two masked figures, who picked the blonde woman up and threw her into a group of ten Death Eater recruits, who eagerly received the wife of Lucius Malfoy. In another, fluid motion, Voldemort raised his hands and spelled Draco Malfoy into the fray.
"Amuse yourselves with them as you wish," Lord Voldemort said, looking terribly bored at the scene beginning to unfold before him. He leaned back and watched from his chair, which had been spelled to resemble a stately throne. "This is your reward for your successes in your first mission, my newest recruits." The hooded figures descended on the felled mother and son. " You may do whatever you wish short of permanent disfigurement..."
A shrill entreaty from Draco halted the Dark Lord momentarily.
Voldemort continued regardless. " ...crippling or killing them. Narcissa has been a loyal servant to me, and Draco will prove useful when he is older."
"Then spare him this!" Narcissa screamed.
"Assss he issss in my servicccce now, he had better learn ssssooner rather than later the price of failure."
When the montage of voices reached a crescendo, Voldemort motioned toward the double doors leading to the foyer. The ornate oak doors opened to reveal a distressed Lucius Malfoy. Although he was wearing his customary elegant robes, his silvery blonde hair was dishevelled, and the exposed areas of his flesh were covered with the healing bruises he had garnered at the hands of Crabbe Sr. and Goyle Sr. just over a week ago.
"NOOOOO! Narcissa! Draco!" The genteel man hobbled into the room towards his wife and son, but was restrained by the Crabbe's formidable grip. This time, even the normally aloof Lucius Malfoy was not beyond obsequiousness, and he dropped to his bruised knees before Voldemort. " PLEASE...PLEASE, Master, let them go!"
"Perhapssss you would care to join them then?" Voldemort regarded Lucius as though he were little more than a foul stench in the room. "They will act as our diversion into St. Mungos. Full, as the hospital may be, they cannot turn away the seriously injured, after all."
Malfoy's pupils dilated so much in his grey eyes that it gave Voldemort the impression of a descending cumulonimbus storm system in the sky at the first light of dawn. "But..!"
"Not to worry, my dear Lucius. St. Mungos will keep them as long as it takes to stabilise them."
"...where will they go afterwards..?"
"To one of the muggle hospitals in the surrounding area. Surely they will provide the adequate care Narcissa and Draco will require once St. Mungos discharges them." The Dark Lord sneered at the look of pure astonishment on Malfoy's face. "Come now, that expression is most unbecoming of a wizard of your social standing. Surely the thought of those muggles handling your wife and son must be of some comfort...they have advanced in their healing sciences, after all."
Lucius Malfoy wore a grimace of both incredulity and the purest fright, the thought of muggles tending to his wife and son weighing heavily on his shoulders. "Master, allow me to offer myself in their place." Lucius implored.
"Are you sssso eager to return to Azkaban?" Voldemort had to speak over Narcissa and Draco's screams. "You know very well the minissstry's pressssenccce is heavy at St Mungosss now. If you turn up for treatment there, you'll be ssssent back to Azkaban as ssssoon as your bones knit...perhapssss even before that."
Malfoy's heart sank. That had been precisely why he was only partially healed. He hadn't dared show up at St. Mungos for care following the beating he received the previous week, and opted to let Narcissa heal him with what little healing charms she knew. Narcissa had closed most of the open wounds and reset his bones, but she hadn't been able to repair all of the internal injuries. The man's laboured breathing attested to that fact.
"STOP IT!" Malfoy shouted when he could not longer bear to watch. When neither his fellow Death Eaters, nor the recruits heeded him, he drew his wand and frantically cast curses at his family's assailants.
"Perhapssss you have nothing againsssst returning to Azkaban after all?" Voldemort cast the cruciatus on Malfoy, sending him sprawling upon the carpeted floor. Crabbe and Goyle eagerly abandoned Draco and turned towards Lucius. When Voldemort lifted the cruse, the two behemoths moved in on him, looking more like wolves with their prey rather than men.
Voldemort watched with satisfaction as what remained of the Malfoy clan was pummeled in a grisly display. Narcissa, despite her own predicament, tried desperately to shield her son from the carnage, covering his body with her own whenever she managed to break free of her captors, however temporarily it was. Lucius in turn tried to protect both his wife and son, but Crabbe and Goyle seemed to have harboured a death wish which had compounded over the years. Draco proved that not even a bully was beyond tears when hurt.
Severus dropped his wand to the floor with a resounding clatter, amplified in the silent chambers. Harry, startled by the unexpected sound, opened his eyes to find his father...trembling.
"What's wrong?"
"Have I not instructed you to keep your eyes closed, boy?"
"Oh!" Harry hastened to make amends, not wanting to risk the already tenuous relationship with his newfound family member. "I didn't want to offend you. I-I'm just curious, but I think you already know that. It's all so very sudden, this whole relationship between us, I mean. It was shocking to me as well, but I've been giving it a lot of thought and I'm so easily distracted as it is, I forgot, I couldn't help but look." Harry's voice trailed off in tandem with his sinking beneath the covers. Harry definitely appeared afraid.
Was Harry worried that he was going to be struck again?
"Well stop your accursed staring! I distinctly remember instructing you to keep your eyes closed." Severus put a hand on Harry's shoulder, forestalling his retreat further beneath the blankets. Although Severus longed to say many things, they only came out on the wavelengths of silence. 'I shall have to grow accustomed to having more than a spirit for a son.'
Harry closed his eyes, and willed himself to relax. The task proved much less difficult than he had anticipated. He had never believed that he would have been happy to be in such close proximity to his once hated, snarky and reputedly greasy potions professor. Now he basked in the soothing warmth of his father's healing. He could not have described the feeling, even if he had attempted to do so for lifetime's worth of years. Severus's healing magics were as soothing to him as warm milk, perhaps. Perhaps like slipping out of freezing, wet clothing , into a dry and warmed blanket whilst sitting before a fireplace.
Severus opened his mouth wide in a voiceless scream. He could barely endure the sheer agony of using his magic, and it took every bit of his will to keep from alerting his son to this fact. Although he did his best to channel his energy, and use as little magic as was needed to heal Harry's wounds, he felt his flesh ripping off of his bones in both his arms and his legs. The pain spread from his extremities inward, causing him feel as though his insides had been set ablaze whilst he were being eviscerated by a Medieval inquisitor.
Yet, Severus Snape willingly bore the pain, as if to punish himself for treating his own son the way his father had so often treated him. Just then, searing heat from the Dark Mark began to emanate throughout Snape's entire left arm. Because he was already in more pain than if he had had twenty Cruciatus curses cast on him simultaneously, and he did not notice the call of his Dark Mark this time .
The ambulance, disguised to look like a furniture delivery truck, reversed towards the emergency entrance of St. Mungos Hospital. The entrance was hidden in a dirty alley, and spelled heavily by muggle repelling charms. The hospital emergency staff rushed into the alley and levitated the wounded mother and son from the back of the truck.
"Are you the next of kin?" a mediwizard asked Wormtail, who was so nervous that he acted the part of ''distraught family member' without even making an attempt at it.
"Y-yes sir."
"Good, fill out these forms then proceed to the security desk." the mediwizard guided the trembling man toward the reception area and handed him a stack of parchments.
In the hidden smuggling compartment of the ambulance/delivery truck, Voldemort turned towards a very battered Lucius Malfoy. "You sssshould thank me for my generosssssity, Malfoy. Your wife and ssssson are being well cared for."
Lucius just stared at Voldemort with his puffy, grey eyes. His jaw had been broken, and his tongue was grossly swollen, rendering him unable to speak.
"Bacterian will transport you safely to a muggle hospital straightaway." Voldemort relished the look of terror in the beaten man's eyes, before exiting the compartment.
Before leaving the delivery truck, Voldemort put on casual azure robes and cast a glamorie charm on himself. Save for his eyes, which retained their serpentine red irises, Voldemort looked almost like his former self, Tom Riddle.
Voldemort laughed maniacally as the delivery truck carrying Lucius Malfoy drove off. From his own muggle father, Voldemort had learned the fear of muggle hospitals and their barbaric methods of treating the wounded. Now Lucius Malfoy, and later his family, would learn first hand.
The disguised Dark Lord walked to the other side of Purge and Dowse, Ltd. and into another dark alley. He tapped his forearm once more as he did shortly before they arrived. "Severusss..." he called.
Ever since word of the Dark Lord's second rise had spread throughout the magical world, security measures had been enhanced in virtually all public areas and municipal buildings. St. Mungos Hospital, whose patients now included several high profile witches and wizards, enhanced their security tenfold; warding every entrance and screening each visitor being amoung the many measures employed.
Once the mediwizard had returned to the triage area, Wormtail ducked into the loo and transformed into a rat. He made his way through the ventilation ducts and removed a ward from a staff entrance, admitting his master undetected into the hospital.
"Good work, Wormtail." The very human-looking Voldemort said, picking up the rat and running up the stairwell to the Fourth Floor.
By this time, the security unit of the hospital had detected the breech and were in pursuit of the intruders.
Voldemort cast powerful ward dispersal charms along the way towards the Spell Damage ward. Even though he could not fully break each of them, the disrupted them enough to allow him passage as well as to scramble their ability to identify him as the intruder.
"Halt!" a security witch, who had plotted and predicted the direction Voldemort was headed, and a small unit of security personnel met Wormtail and Voldemort at the landing to the fourth floor. Their wands were drawn.
Without preamble, Wormtail jumped out of Voldemort's hands and rushed the dark-blue robed unit, transforming back into his human form as he did. He continued sprinting towards the unit, forcing them to cast curses his way. Wormtail dropped to the floor at the last moment, sliding several feet across the floor. The curses missed him completely, and before any of them could cast a second curse, he knocked three guards onto the floor.
Voldemort ducked the first round of curses and pointed his finger at the lead security witch. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
The security witch fell dead. The green glow persisted for several seconds after she fell, as though her soul were trying to fight off her inevitable death.
Wormtail proceeded to cast curses indiscriminately, effectively stunning any of the security personnel, and mediwitches and wizards who arrived shortly thereafter on the scene.
Voldemort stunned anyone who wasn't already stunned by the horrific turn of events and made his way from room to room, searching for the mother of Severus Snape.
"Master!" Wormtail shrieked, following his master into one of the patient's rooms in a way that would have almost appeared comical if the situation weren't so serious. "They've alerted the ministry!"
"Not to worry," Voldemort said, motioning towards a woman with ivory white hair, crystal black eyes and aquiline facial features. "We have found who we came for."
From a lonely chair next to her bed, Mervidith Snape just stared in the direction of Peter Pettigrew and the transformed Voldemort with her fathomless, unseeing eyes.
Professor Severus Snape could barely steady his wand hand as he continued to work at the bruise on Harry's mandible. Using his opposite hand for support, he moved his wand even closer to the reddened flesh, hoping to use an even smaller quantity of his magic to heal the very bruise he himself had caused.
Harry marvelled at how his father's healing differed from any of his previous treatments. Madam Pomfrey's ministrations had always been rapid and straightforward, bringing the fastest possible relief from pain, while at the same time minimizing the risk of infection. Muggle healers, or medical doctors were often acerbic, businesslike, and all but worshiped their sciences. Yet without the use of magic, muggle doctors relied on their patients to do most of the healing on their own, once surgeries had been performed, and the medications had been administered. Gilderoy Lockhart's healing had not hurt initially, but the Skele-Gro osteoregenesis procedure felt even worse at times, than the initial injury, if that were possible.
The soothing, healing magics emanating from Severus's body, and through his ebony wand, awakened more than tangible sensations. Harry could almost hear the healing energies playing over him like a reassuring sonata in which every tone could be timed to the nanosecond. Every note like the voice of an instrument of the highest quality. The conductor, his meticulous father, the very personification of excellence and proficiency.
All too soon for Harry, the healing session concluded. After a fleeting moment's contemplation, Harry determined that he would only venture to the hospital wing if he were seriously hurt, and ask his father to heal any future injuries personally otherwise. Parents usually are the primarily healers for their children aren't they? What with all the skinned knees and falls that little children have, and the bumps and bruises they get when they are older, parents have to do a lot of healing, don't they? Following that reasoning, Harry determined that Severus Snape owed him a lot of back payments in healing.
Harry opened his eyes at the sound of hurriedly retreating footsteps. Although Severus had told him not to open his eyes until told to do so, Harry focused just in time to see the door to the washroom slamming.
Severus could not easily recall ever being in so much pain. His skin had ripped itself open in several places to relieve the tremendous quantities of energy surging beneath. His muscles cried for relief from the searing heat his own magics had generated, and spasmed violently when its requests were repeatedly denied. Even his blood burned in the places where it oozed from the torn flesh.
For the first time in his life, Severus empathized with the stars, for he felt as though his insides were engaging in nuclear fusion and nucleosynthesis. Surely his very core would give at any moment, and he'd burn, like a young star shining for the first time as a Zero-Age-Main-sequence-Star; or an expended star going nova.
The burning had to be extinguished. It simply had to be.
Severus opened the cold tap and waited for the eternity that it took the tub to fill. While doing so, he pulled off his nightshirt and nearly gasped aloud at the sight of the lacerations on his torso and extremities. He looked as though he had been fighting a war singlehandedly against an army whose foot-soldiers consisted of bloodthirsty grappling hooks, and whose cavalry were psychotic heated pincers.
When the tub nearly overflowed , Severus gingerly eased into the tepid water, feeling some relief immediately. After immersing himself for nearly fifteen minutes, he drained some of the water and opened the cold tap once more, replenishing the blessed coolness of the water.
He knew he would have to seek assistance from Poppy, but in a little while...Eventually, perhaps after he asked the house elves to add crushed ice to the bath..
"Father?" came Harry's voice from behind the closed door after several more minutes.
"Bugger OFF!" Snape shouted.
"Are you okay? You've been in there for quite a while. Harry querried, starting to open the door. "Do you have a stomachache or something?"
"YES!" retorted Snape without even thinking. He was in too much agony to prepare his responses adequately. "I mean I uh..uh... I have a headache."
"You have a headache?" Harry repeated, wondering why his father was taking a bath, when he had already had one before he retired for the night. Was bathing how Severus dealt with headaches?
"YES I HAVE A HEADACHE!" Severus yelled.
"I'm sure you have something in there that can..." Harry immediately opened the cabinet just outside the door and began to look for the headache reliever potion.
"You're the bloody headache!" Severus growled, sinking a little deeper in the tub. "Just GO AWAY!"
Harry would have been offended, if not very hurt, at Severus's last command if he did not notice then that the bath water had a light red tinge to it. The colour was even more marked against Severus's porcelain white skin.
"Father?" Harry said, so concerned that his face turned nearly as white as his father's. "What's the matter? What's wrong?"
"Nothing!" Severus did his best to keep every iota of pain out of his voice, but failed when an involuntary cry escaped him as pain ripped down his left arm.
Harry shut the door to the potions cabinet and approached the bathtub.
"Go away, HARRY!" Severus reached for a towel, more to cover his wounds than his nakedness, but the towel rack was too far away. "Just go back to bed, Harry... STAY AWAY from me!"
Voldemort stalked over to the snowy haired woman and caressed her chin in a gesture of mock kindness. Mervidith Snape was totally unresponsive, and remained so even when The Dark Lord grabbed her by the hair and hauled her toward the narrow, barred window.
"It'sssss a pity we are not more at leissssure, Mrssss. Ssssnape." Voldemort hissed at the woman with aquiline features, and motioned toward the other end of the room. "Ssssince you obviousssly weren't ussssing your bed for sssssleeping this night, no doubt we can find another use for it."
Mervidith did not react, even as Voldemort started caressing her long hair and breathing in her scent.
"M-Master..." Peter Pettigrew interrupted Voldemort's lustful musings. "The guards are right outside the door!"
"Take her out into the alley!" Voldemort motioned towards the window and roughly shoved Mervidith into Wormtail's arms. The cowering, tawny haired man wrapped an arm around the woman's narrow waist and went to work on the heavily warded window.
Voldemort slunk across the room lay in wait just to the side of the door. Just as an auror kicked the heavy door open, Voldemort sent the killing curse not just to the auror, but to the people accompanying him; two aurors and a hospital orderly.
"I-I got it open!" Wormtail triumphantly held the bars in the air, and spelled the glass away.
"Let'sssss go!" With that, Voldemort wrapped an arm around Mervidith and the other around Wormtail and floated through the open window, replacing the bars on the window once they were clear of the building.
Voldemort floated three and a half stories down before dropping both Wormtail and Mervidith to the pavement. Once on the ground, Voldemort dragged Mervidith down a sidestreet and into a deserted warehouse, effectively losing the aurors and the hospital security guards who had spent a little too much time trying to get past the warded bars on the window.
The Dark Lord flung Mervidith onto a pile of rags and began to tap his wand on his arm. "Severus! Severussssssss." He called in a voice about as sweet as an elixir of cyanide.
Although Wormtail looked just as nervous as he always did, he could hardly wait to see the expression on Snape's face when he finally showed up. Without the ability to apparate or use any magical means to make the journey, Severus would surely take hours to arrive. What would Snivellus do when Voldemort broke his mother's neck right in front of him.
"But Mr. Malfoy!" a young mediwizard called out to the battered Draco, who was hastily putting on some robes which had been delivered by one of the Malfoy's elfin servants. "You don't have medical clearance to leave!"
"Oh give over with your foolish clearance!" the fair haired boy sneered. "I can walk out of here whenever I want!"
The orderly crossed his arms over his chest."Then try it!"
Draco haughtily took a few steps towards the door out of the triage room before faltering. He stubbornly righted himself and managed to take two steps into the hallway before collapsing to the floor in pain. He would have punched the ground in frustration, but his knuckles were already badly mangled and bruised.
The expression on the mediwizard's face softened. "Draco, you can see your mother when you're a little better. Right now, all you can do is rest while the potions and charms do their work."
"Is my mother okay?" Draco asked, carefully keeping his head turned to the floor.
"Uh..." The mediwizard started to help Draco back out of his street clothes and into his hospital gown. "You can see her when you're better."
"She's okay though isn't she?" Draco persisted, fending off the wizard's hands.
"She will be..." the mediwizard said, sounding very unsure.
"Where is father?"
"Who?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "My father you simpleton! You know, Lucius Malfoy."
The youthful mediwizard looked shocked. "Isn't he still in Azkaban?"
Draco's disdainful expression faded. "Oh...oh...Never mind, I must have been hit on the head too hard. I forgot for a moment where he was." He hoped the mediwizard would take his word for it and not pursue the issue further.
The mediwizard regarded the aristocratic youth quizzically, but asked nothing else.
"A pity you'll be going to your own death sssshortly, Mrsss. Ssssnape." Voldmort crooned, smoothing the woman's silvery hair. "You'd make a wonderful play thing ." MOThe sound of the warehouse door opening drew both Voldemort's and Wormtail's attention.
Into the empty warehouse walked Professor Severus Snape. An extremely angry looking Professor Snape...
End Part Thirteen
