Chapter Twelve – Rose

The Art of Healing

As breakfast wound down, I stood, saying goodbye to my companions and moving away, towards the hospital wing. I would check on the Malfoy boy and then go up to my healing class, I decided.

As I passed them, Harry looked up and smiled at me. I stopped, smiling back. He was sat between Ron and Hermione, with Neville and a couple of others who I hadn't met yet.

"Harry," I greeted warmly, happy to see him. "How are you?"

"I'm okay, Professor," he told me with a smile. "How's Malfoy?"

I smiled. "He's fine. If I have any say in it he'll be out today, probably. It wasn't exactly life-threatening. I've healed worse."

"What happened to your face?" Ron asked as he swallowed. Hermione glared at him and he went red.

"Ronald, you can't just ask-"

"It's fine, Hermione," I told her. "I don't know if you've heard of the St Mungo's Fire of 1980?"

Ron and Harry shook their heads, but Hermione gasped. "You were in that?"

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"Oh, it wasn't a big deal," I lied. "Those were the days when Voldemort was at large, and he really didn't like St Mungo's because we healed the people he tried to kill. So he came and attacked us. He set fire to the children's ward-"

"The children's ward?" Neville asked, horrified. I nodded.

"Lord Voldemort was not a nice man," I replied with a sigh. "At all. So yeah, when we heard the screams… The head healer told us not to, but I had young children myself and I couldn't just stand there. I ran in, but I realised too late it was Fiendfyre, and while I did manage to stop most of it, it burnt my face irreparably. Curse wounds are very difficult, if not impossible, to heal with magic."

The third years stared at me with eyes the size of saucers. I laughed at them and said, "What, did you expect me to get injured in a kitchen fire?" When they said nothing, I sighed. "These were the days of war and pain and death. These were the days that turned friends into enemies, children into orphans and brave men into cowards. But these were also the days that made heroes. Like your parents, Harry. They were heroes."

He stared at me. "I know they died fighting him, but why else were they heroes?"

I blinked. "Has no one ever told you anything about your parents, Harry?" When he shook his head, I smiled. "One day, Lily and I were at St Mungo's – this was when we were still trainees, mind you – and we received a message calling us to an attack in Diagon Alley. We apparated straight there and we just managed to duck in time to miss two killing curses. The curses used that day… They were there to kill us, the Death Eaters were. Anyway, Sirius pulled us over to the side to get us out of the line of fire, and Lily immediately went looking for James, despite the fact that we tried to stop her. I don't know how long we were fighting for, but the next thing I remember was being back-to-back with Sirius in a circle of Death Eaters, watching your parents face off with Voldemort himself."

Harry stared at me, his eyes wide with wonder. "How did they…?"

"Escape?" I supplied. "Well, Lily used a charm to turn his bones to jelly, he nearly killed her, then James and I – oh, we ran over just to help with this bit – disarmed him and he left. He wasn't best pleased."

"Where were Professor Lupin and Professor Lupin?"

I chuckled. "They were on their honeymoon." Then I laughed again, and the students looked questioningly at me. I shook my head. "You really don't want to know. That wasn't the only time – not by a long way – that they faced him, but I think it was the first."

"Will you tell me more?" he asked, clearly desperate to know. I smiled.

"Yes, of course, but not now. I'm meant to be in the Hospital Wing after all!"

I waved as I walked away, and they all called, "Bye, Rose!"

The rest of the day, and the following weeks passed quickly. Malfoy – after being a complete and utter pain in the you-know-what for days – was finally discharged on Thursday. He went off to Potions and I went upstairs to my class. I loved this class – the healing one – because the students actually listened to me and respected me.

"Good morning, class!" I called as I walked in.

Everyone looked up at me and called variations of, "Good morning Rose!" or "Morning Professor!"

"How are we all doing today?" I asked as I dropped my bag on the desk and swung myself up to sit on it. "Is anyone ill and in need of healing? We always need practical demonstrations." When no one offered anything, I sighed. "Very well. I suppose I should be pleased, not disappointed. And – drumroll please – I'm giving you your first essay assignment! I know, I know," I said over groans, "I can tell how pleased you are."

I stood up and waved my wand at the board. "The subject is curse wounds. I want you all to research why it is they cannot be healed or regrown with magic, and include three substitutes for magical healing. These must include at least one muggle method."

A Slytherin – Amelia Wilcox, a seventh year – raised her hand and I called on her. "Why would we bother researching muggle techniques? I've seen some of them – they're insane. They actually sew people up!"

I looked at her with a bland expression, even though I was annoyed inside. "Actually, Miss Wilcox, stitches – the technique you refer to there – are a very useful method for wizards and muggles alike. I used it to save a friend of mine's life once, when they were cursed." While everyone took a note of that, I paused, then carried on in a low voice, "Just because the method is muggle and doesn't use magic doesn't mean it's useless or crazy. What muggles have managed to do without magic is truly inspirational, and a lot of healers need to combine magical healing with muggle healing to save people's lives. Remember that, and don't rule out muggle healing techniques when you're in need."

Amelia, suitably chastised, looked away and we began a lively conversation about the pros and cons of muggle techniques. When the bell rang, the students left and I smiled as Severus stepped inside, looking angry.

"Severus," I greeted. "You look – if possible – even less cheerful than normal. What's wrong?"

"Your favourite Gryffindors," he spat. I smiled.

"Why don't you come in and have a seat?" I offered. "It's been too long since we had a proper chat."

He paled at the reference to the one time we spoke outside of Hogwarts – when Lily had been injured and he had come to see if she was all right – but took a seat anyway. I sat on a desk beside him and waited patiently.

"They are impossible. They do their best to undermine me and actually go against my orders-"

"Severus, Severus!" I said, putting my hands up in an effort to stem the angry flow of words. "Start from the beginning."

"That boy – the idiot Longbottom boy – he is always so miserable at potions and that know-it-all, Granger, she deliberately disobeyed me when I told her not to help him-"

"Why did she feel the need to help him?"

He looked chagrined for a moment. "I may have said we would test his potion on his toad-"

"Severus!" I exclaimed. "How could you?" I took one look at his face and burst out laughing. "Oh, you are appalling! That's so cruel! And funny!"

"I'm glad you find it so amusing," he told me, trying to sound annoyed but I could see a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "Aren't you supposed to be scolding me? I didn't expect you to laugh, Rose."

I laughed even harder. "Oh, Merlin, Severus – me, scold you? Have you heard some of the things I did in my time here? You didn't actually poison the toad, did you? And I doubt it would have been much loss anyway. The poor boy – they're not exactly cool familiars, are they?"

"Cool?" Severus shook his head at me. "What are you talking about?"

I stared at him, still laughing. "Well, it seems that the toad is more of a pain than a good pet. It's not like an owl or a cat, is it?"

"Owls are useful," he hedged. "The others are not."

"Oh Severus," I sighed. "I'll buy you a cat for Christmas."

"You will do no such thing-"

"I will," I told him with a wicked grin, "because you need to lighten up and actually learn to let other creatures into your life."

He looked sour and said, "I tried that. Then she died."

That knocked the laughter out of me. "Severus," I said softly, "her death wasn't what took her out of your life."

"I know," he snapped. "I just…"

"You miss her," I supplied. "It's natural enough. Despite your complete and utter hate for him, I still miss Sirius every day."

"How do you miss a murderer?" he asked snidely.

I rolled my eyes at him. "I miss the man I knew. I miss the man I loved. In a way, it's worse than what happened to Lily. She died as the person you knew. Sirius… Sirius was never the person I knew." I hesitated, staring out of the window. "He told me they switched, you know. At the last minute, him and Peter. He told me he wasn't the secret keeper, that Peter was. And then he went and murdered Peter. I don't know what the truth is and what the lie is. Either way, he's a murderer."

Severus Snape looked at me almost compassionately. "Perhaps it is your duty to believe the best of the man he was."

"I suppose," I said with a heavy sigh. "Merlin, what are we doing sitting here, talking about this? This is far too heavy for a Thursday morning!" I jumped to my feet and, when he simply stared at me, grasped his hand and pulled him to his feet too, dragging him out into the corridor. "Come along, Severus! We should go and do something! We are young, well, relatively young people! Let's go flying."

"Rose-" he protested, but I had already raised my wand and summoned our brooms (well mine and Cara's, actually, but I knew she wouldn't mind). "Rose, I really-"

"Do be quiet, Severus," I told him and passed him Cara's broom as we began to walk. "It's been a long time since I went flying and I know you know how to!"

"Are you really going to make me do this?" he asked me, a look of long sufferance on his face. I grinned.

"I do hope she will," Minerva said from her classroom door. "It will be very amusing. But can you keep it down? I have a class in here."

"Sorry, Minerva," I told her cheerfully. "It's time Severus learnt to lighten up-"

"I have no wish to 'lighten up'," he told me, irritated.

"Come on," I wheedled. "It's only a little flight!" I even stooped so low as to bat my eyelashes at him.

He sighed, but acquiesced. "Very well. A short flight cannot hurt."

Minerva laughed and stifled it with a cough. "Do have fun, you two. And well done, Rose," she added in a whisper. I grinned at her and dragged him further down the corridor, laughing at his pained expression (which meant: oh, feel sorry for me, I have to put up with this annoying witch).

"Cheer up, Severus!" I told him as we reached the Entrance Hall and opened the doors. "Flying is fun – I know you enjoy it, so don't try and deny it – and it's not like I'm that terrible company, is it?"

He sighed again, but I could still see the amusement in his eyes. "I suppose it could be worse."

"You're right," I said cheerfully. "It's not like you're with James or Sirius, is it?"

He huffed out a sigh, but didn't hold back and didn't make me drag him as we ran across the grounds towards the Quidditch pitch.

"You will make me a mockery in front of my own house," he told me as we swung our legs over our brooms.

"Yes, but what a way to do it," I told him, and launched myself into the air, finally feeling happy.

I was at home in the air. Flying was second nature to me, and had been since I was a very young age. The one proper game I had played in Seventh year – I'd been pregnant for the other two, and yes we won – was still one of my favourite memories, despite the fact that Cara nearly died at the end of it. Being a chaser – that was my position – was a deeply ingrained part of me and I flew through the air like I had been flying since the day I was born – which was nearly true. I was at home in the air. I was happy here.

I think I was finally healing.