Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the characters but I have made them dance this time. No money made, no gratuities accepted except the reviews of my peers, for which I thank you.
I always answer my reviewers if they leave a name and I am always happy to chat with them over PM. Huge thanks and a great deal of gratitude as you are the reason I managed to get out of the mud and get going again.
If you have a flame to send, I suggest you do a spell check, the last couple look like they were written by a drunken kindergartener.
Another huge thanks to my BeST betas Zarathustra46 and the Wicked Bunjhny who make this lot legible and grammatically sane.
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Chapter 06 – All Is Desolation
"I have never seen anything like it! As if his brain's been wiped clean and he's retreated into a coma for his own protection."
"Never mind what you have and haven't seen; can you restore him?"
The Medi-wizard stared down his nose at the scarred and weather-beaten Auror, then sighed deeply. "I wish I could, but I can't. To restore a mind, one needs something to work with and alas, there is nothing there!"
"Get him out of here!" Alastor snarled, waving a hand at the Medi-wizard as Shacklebolt hurried the man out of the visitor's rooms that were still awash with the blood of the attacker. There had been two of them, that much was evident, but one of them had gotten clean away while the other had not been so lucky. The room recorders had been tampered with and there would be quite some hell to pay about that too, once this mess got sorted out. Snape had obviously taken down one of his attackers but the other invader had all but finished him off and no one was happy about that!
"What now, Sir?"
Yes indeed, what now? "Who is his next of kin? I know Remus was looking after him last time Snape was badly injured, but Remus seems to have disappeared, too."
"I recall Aunt Minerva saying that Headmaster Dumbledore was, because of legal reasons and greedy relatives," Blair McGonagall said quietly, stepping over the blood puddle carefully.
Sighing deeply, Alastor motioned for two Aurors to levitate Snape to St Mungo's and gave orders for them to mount a twenty-four hour guard over him; no visitors, no reporters, not even civilian Medi-wizards until Alastor said differently, in person! The forensic team was ordered to check the present scene, and then Alastor stumped his way to his office. His would be the distasteful job of informing the Minister and Headmaster that there had been a security breach at Auror headquarters. Alastor was clearly not looking forward to it.
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Clearwater read the missive from Moody and swallowed hard. The Minister wasn't sure if he was happy or upset that the Snape "problem" had been solved even if it wasn't exactly an ideal solution. Minister Clearwater was still wondering what he should do when the Floo flared and Albus Dumbledore swept into the office, fury and thunder in his expression, raw power licking at the ceiling and walls. Wards flared and alarms sounded as the Headmaster drew himself up to his full height.
"How dare you!" the Headmaster roared, vibrating the walls to the beat of his anger. "I know my boy was an embarrassment to your administration but this is far lower than I ever thought you would stoop! To destroy such a fine mind for no better reason than to stop the rot-"
"Albus Dumbledore! You will cease this tirade immediately! I am the Minister for Magic, not some scrubby schoolboy you may harangue at will!" Clearwater rose to his full height too, facing off squarely. "Do you really think that little of me, that I would do something so underhandedly? How dare you!"
Magic pressed against magic as the two powerful men glared at each other, then carefully backed away, both realising very quickly that this display of ire solved nothing. Each seated himself with careful dignity, aware that one false move could set off a magical confrontation that would only escalate their problem to epic proportions.
"What happened?" Dumbledore ground out, hardly daring to breathe, so slim was his control over his temper and his magic.
"Alastor said Snape was attacked by two men; one Snape killed, the other caught him," the Minister intoned. "The Aurors found Snape in a full body bind this morning, his mind blasted completely. Someone tampered with the recording devices so there is yet no clue but the investigators are doing what they can with what is left of Snape."
"It is convenient that no guards were on duty around Snape's cell, is it not?" said Albus tightly controlling his speech.
"He wasn't in a cell," Constantine snapped futilely. "Damn it all, we were about to clear him and let him go this morning! Here, this is the recompense we had designed for him, an honourable place in the College of Potions Makers, research grants and facilities, everything he wanted, really. I swear on my Magic, Albus, we didn't set this up to get rid of him!"
Albus rose to pace uneasily, reining in his temper as best he could. His age settled on his shoulders as sadness for Severus' predicament settled on his mind. Closing his eyes, Albus pinched the bridge of his nose and bowed his head. "My poor child; nothing in his life has ever been easy. Nothing! And just when it looked as if he might have a chance to live a little, this happens! Where is he? What have the Medi-wizards said about his condition?"
"Alastor ordered him to St Mungo's under guard; that's all we could do at this time. Our man had never seen anything like it before so he was a bit useless. Perhaps the experts at St Mungo's will be able to assist. If not, then it might mean the closed ward. It has been rebuilt and refurbished now that a Death Eater attack is no longer an issue."
Visions of the Longbottoms plagued the Headmaster as he nodded slowly. "I had better get over there and see if there is anything I can do."
"And for the record, Albus, I am truly very, very sorry," Constantine Clearwater murmured, patting the old man's shoulder. "I know you and he were very close."
"He is like a son to me, more than my own son ever was." For a few moments the Headmaster was silent as he recalled the brief time he had known his own son, taken from him by his estranged wife when the boy was only five and returned to him at his resurrection ritual by Severus, Harry, Aberforth and Remus. For a very short time Albus had learned to appreciate Roger before he was killed by Death Eaters during a raid.* "Severus did things for me that one should not ask of even a life companion and he did them with a minimum of fuss and a maximum of efficiency. He spied and lied and even killed at my command, uncomplaining, enduring and… And now this? Does it never end?" The old man sighed again and, ignoring wards, warnings and restrictions, Disapparated.
Clearwater tapped his chin thoughtfully. So that was why the Headmaster was so interested in the Snape case. Interesting!
*: See Reconstruction of a Death Eater.
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"Oh, Professor Dumbledore!" The exclamation was high-pitched with shock as the Medi-wizard jumped back hurriedly. No one was supposed to be able to Apparate into St Mungo's anymore.
"Thornfeld, isn't it? Tobias Thornfeld of Ravenclaw," Albus greeted the Healer with a smile and an eye twinkle although it was truly the last thing Albus felt like doing. "I heard you had become a Medi-wizard and were doing exceptionally well in your field."
"Thank you, Sir, I am. I'm in charge of the psycho-sciences now and attempting to introduce psychology to the wizarding fraternity. It's taking a while but it is slowly happening."
"Oh, well done. I had heard about this Muggle type of mind healing and wondered if anyone was adapting it to our needs. Jolly good show. Have you examined Severus yet? Have you anything to report, good or bad?"
"Um, Professor Snape? I'm sorry, Professor Dumbledore, he is far beyond my level of expertise. Someone has used the Obliviate spell in its strongest and most destructive form. When we normally cast Obliviate, we target very specific memories, removing the offending event and the small tendrils of that event which connect it to the rest of the memory. My obliviate involves patching the hole, and meshing the rest of the memories over the 'bald' spot, thus rendering the event as if it never happened. It's delicate and time consuming work this way using increments of power akin to a miniature artist's fine brushes applied with a delicate hand. Whoever did this obliviate came in with enough power to blow up a city block and completely destroyed everything in its path. To put it bluntly, Headmaster, Professor Snape's mind is a wasteland."
"May I see him? I am a skilled Legilimens and perhaps I might be able to recognise something. After all, I am very familiar with my child's mind when it is in its usual condition."
Healer Thornfeld blinked at this assertion, quite sure there was no familial connection between the Snapes and the Dumbledores, yet he held his peace. "Usually we don't allow relatives to try and treat their kinfolk, but in this case we would welcome your help."
Albus stared down in shock at the tightly-curled huddle on the white bed. "Why?"
Tobias coughed gently. "As soon as the body bind was removed, he curled up and no one can uncurl him; neither by spell nor physical pressure. He has locked himself into a ball and there he will stay, I'm afraid. We think Snape's last action before the Obliviate spell hit was to try and protect himself, physically as well as mentally. As you can see, it didn't help, really."
Two hefty medical assistants stepped up and manoeuvred the curled man until his face was upward, quite a task as he had pressed himself tightly into his knees. Each person peeled the eyelid closest to them back to expose a small sliver of black iris pressed right at the top of the white orbit. Educated thumbs carefully rolled the nearest eyeball down until the window to the soul was in such a position as to be useful. Nodding to each other, Thornfeld and Dumbledore both incanted 'Legilimens' and fell into the devastated brain.
Wind howled, dust tore at exposed skin and lightening flashed overhead. Both men quickly cast bubblehead charms on themselves to stop the gale snatching their breath away or the dust smothering them as they stood. Thornfeld shook his head and shrugged in a complicated movement to indicate his complete helplessness in the face of such chaos. Dumbledore spread his hands, palm down and concentrated on sending out wave upon wave of calming vibrations, not true spells, but soothing nonetheless. Slowly, a small area of peacefulness built around him, spreading reluctantly until it covered Thornfeld, too.
"This unrest cannot be good for Severus," Albus said when he could release the bubblehead charm. "We need to slow this down and dissipate the storm as a first step, don't you think?"
"Yes, of course, but I had no luck last time, certainly not like this," the healer murmured, shaking his head.
"Severus tends to be an uneasy soul at the best of times," Albus said reluctantly, sending out another blast of calming vibrations. "Now, let's see if we can ease his mind."
It took both men an eternity, or so it seemed, to settle the storm and calm the lightening but after much hard work, they were finally standing on a field of dust, under a fathomless grey dome that stretched as far as the eye could see. Very few landmarks remained and what there were consisted mainly of shattered bricks and a few small pieces of twisted metal. Of the huge castle that used to house Severus' mind, there was no trace. Shaking his head, Dumbledore leaned down to touch a bent piece of grating, heavy bars torn like paper, the jagged ends still shining with the recency of the tear. The fine dust slushed around his feet, rising a small way, then settling in his footprints as he moved; it was heavy and thick, a few glittering shards of light amongst the grey uniformity.
"There was a castle here with polished walls of white marble. There were crenulations on the top and flying buttresses to hold it up. Bastions and turrets surveyed a healthy landscape and a drawbridge guarded by a portcullis allowed limited access to the treasures inside. Three manifestations of Severus inhabited this vast edifice, Severus the body, Ibrim the soul, and Snape the mind. Now there is nothing left of my boy… nothing at all." The Headmaster turned in a full circle and slumped down to sit on what remained of a wall, his age heavy upon his shoulders.
Thornfeld bent his head and sighed too as he helped the slumped man to his feet. "At least Snape has a modicum of peace now," he counselled, helping the old man to rise, offering an arm so that they could leave the devastated landscape together. Albus nodded reluctantly and allowed himself to be led away, neither of the men looking backwards.
But… in the shadow of the shattered marble, a brighter shard glittered, and then began to pulse. As the men moved dejectedly away, the dust stirred briefly in one small area, a tiny willie-willie caught in an eddy. A second began only inches from the first, the dust reluctantly climbing the swelling spiral until a pillar of swirling grey dust and speckles of light grew to man-sized and coalesced.
The figure that resulted was thin, a skeleton in a grey robe that shimmered and solidified into unrelenting black. An ivory pale hand moved, the dust taking on a new hue as it formed a body of pale cream and blackness. Snape moved like a badly strung puppet, blinking dazedly as he looked around the greyness. Where the hell was he? Was he in hell? Staggering, he slumped onto the same piece of marble the Headmaster had just vacated, panting and exhausted, as waves of thought and feeling swept the newly-created body. He was in his own mind, spellblasted and weakened, his Occlumency walls destroyed, his very mind shattered almost beyond repair.
It was all too much to manage in one sitting and he slid under the dust, covered and hidden as he recruited his strength before going on.
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The two Legilimens were helped to chairs as the orderlies laid the curled body back down again and covered him as best they could.
"As you can see, Headmaster, he is very much damaged and I do not hold out a lot of hope for him," Thornfeld said gently as he accepted the glass of water an orderly handed him.
"Yes, I see why you may think that but I must still hope that there is some chance of recovery, if only to believe in natural justice. Take care of him and see to it that no one else gets a chance to hurt him further, won't you? I will come again next week."
"Certainly, Headmaster, we'll be moving him up to the closed ward this afternoon where the staff are trained to look after comatose people."
"Very well, I will look through the library at Hogwarts and see if there are any mentions of such a spell and its reversal." The old man rose heavily and took his leave with one last long look at the man he had come to think of as a son.
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