Chapter 14 – The Potions Master Returns
"This isn't working," Poppy Pomfrey said with exhaustion as she collapsed into the arm chair carefully positioned by the high hospital bed. "Every time he regains consciousness, he goes into fits. He's fighting the potions, the spells and everything we do for him, as if he was rejecting all our help."
Minerva stirred slightly and sighed. "Perhaps he needs to go back to his dungeons. I know… I know… 'not the dungeons! It's dark and cold and spooky'… but Poppy, Severus is dark and cold and spooky. You know that. He thrives in the dungeons…"
"But not after the ordeal he has suffered! Minerva, he's been to Azkaban, been fed on by Dementors, starved and tortured at St Mungo's, he's ill, weakened and in desperate need of care!" the Medi-witch protested, almost in tears over her failure to relieve her colleague's suffering. "Minerva, I know we three thought about returning him to the dungeons but he's shaking so badly we thought he might shake himself to death. It's taken us a week to even slow the tremors down to once or twice a day."
"I agree, Poppy, but that was then and this is now!" Minerva snapped, slapping her hand on the edge of the bed frame for emphasis. "Our boy needs to be in a familiar environment and he has always hated the hospital wing, you know that, Poppy," she coaxed the exhausted Medi-witch. "He's stronger now and would do better in a familiar environment; that is what the mind healers said, if you recall."
"And who is going to look after him? He can hardly take care of himself, in his condition!"
The third watcher stirred a little, attracting instant attention. "Severus was house-elf raised. I am sure I can find one of the Snape house-elves to come and look after him in his hour of need. He does have the resources of a Head of House at his disposal, even if he never uses them."
"A house-elf, Albus? But… but…"
"My dear Poppy, many of the children we receive from pure-blood families rarely see an adult of their clan until they're of a 'civilised' age, old enough to be seen and not heard, that is."
"That's barbaric!" The medi-witch and the transfiguration teacher unintentionally managed a perfect chorus much to Albus' grim amusement.
"Yes, somewhat, but often it is the only love the children ever experience… the love of their house-elf nannies and governesses. Severus was no exception to the general rule."
"Very well, we can try it, but if anything goes wrong…" Poppy let the threat hang with a glare hot enough to melt paint.
oo0oo
Levil glanced around the kitchen cavern with a quick assessing look, holding his expression to himself. He was a Snape Family house-elf and knew his worth. He had stepped forward to come and serve their Lord when that odd old man had asked for volunteers, arriving at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry only a few moments after the Headmaster. The old man had told him to go to the kitchen and introduce himself while Master was transferred to his dungeon. A swarm of house-elves had immediately descended on the intruder, muttering and pointing, their giggles and laughter very childish to the older elf's ears. Shaking his head, he sought out the head elf and nodded courteously to the old being.
"I am Levil, Lord Snape's personal elf. I have been assigned to care for him while he is indisposed."
"…he talks funny…"
"…sounds like a wizard…"
"…thinks he better than we…"
Levil sighed and ignored the susurrations travelling through the cluster of elves as he faced the older elf who nodded back equally courteously.
"I's Mimmi, head of the Hogwarts elf contingent and I's pleased to meet you," the old elf said softly. "You is to look after Professor Snape and takes care of he? Does the Headmaster say this? Then it so. You needs anything, you is to come to me or Bitsie, who is looking after the Kitchen elves."
"I appreciate it," Levil replied. "Master will need food, probably at odd times, if he is anything like the rest of the Snape Family. I will inform you of his needs as soon as I learn of them. Now I must go."
The old elf nodded and frowned as the newcomer popped out. Maybe he talked funny and was a snobbish thing, but better he look after Professor Snape than anyone else around.
Levil, a grim look on his face, appeared in the dungeons and checked the place over, banishing the dust that had accumulated and lighting the fires in both the sitting room and bedroom. He lit the clusters of candles and torches in the hallway, making sure the smoke was siphoned off by the spells already in place. The bedsheets had been changed and pillows fluffed by the time the Headmaster and Medi-witch levitated his Master into the dungeons and popped him into bed. The female professor quickly slid the heavy duvet over the thin man and patted his shoulder gently. "Sleep tight, Severus, dear," she murmured as she left.
Similar sentiments were offered by the other two humans before they left the Lord of Snape in Levil's capable hands. The elf had been brought up on stories of how the present Lord had been treated by his human relatives and how Echy, not a Snape elf but the last of the late Lady Snape's family elves*, had been killed for loving the present Lord too well. (*Snape the Younger) He remembered Nimbil, a legend amongst the Snape Elves, and how she had sacrificed herself* to keep the Lord safe. (*Snape the Younger) Such things were a great influence on Levil and when the old Headmaster had come for a volunteer, he had stepped forward before anyone else could. While the elf didn't expect his service to be easy, he guessed it would be interesting.
Severus began to twitch under his covering of down and silk. Levil hurried over and stopped frozen, pinned to the spot by the pair of black eyes that seemed to look right into his heart. Sweeping up and down, Severus noted the plain black pillowslip with the gold crest on the edge and blinked slowly. "Who?" he asked, his throat rusty from disuse.
"Levil, my Lord. How may I serve you?"
"Water."
A flexible straw was held to his lips and Severus drank before drifting off to sleep once more. Levil cleared away the cup, banished the sweat from his Master's brow and refreshed the bedclothes without disturbing the man in the least.
oo0oo
Time had no meaning. Whether it passed or not did not impact on the unconscious man who did not realise he briefly wakened to drink the potions pressed to his lips by the elf. Severus was deeply involved in integrating Snape into Severus. How or why he knew this was necessary or how to do it was unclear but he knew it had to be done if he was to survive this phase of tremors and convulsions. The potions garden in his mind still thrived but now he knew how to care for it, what its secondary purpose was and how to use it to protect his mind.
Sometimes when he worked in the garden or sat at table in the cottage, Snape told him things, showed him how to do things. Sometimes Ibrim came and assisted him to reach acceptance that he was now three people in one, and how to cope with this influx of information. It wasn't easy. Sometimes parts of him rebelled and he refused to believe his dreams or insights. Fortunately, that never lasted long.
Sometimes he dreamed of terrible and horrific things, of a red-eyed monster using the Cruciatus curse on him until he thought he would go mad. Then someone would step into the path of the curse, taking the pain into himself and lending Severus succour. Severus could never see who the shadowy figure was but every time he was about to lose himself in the angst of dreams, the shadow protector would appear to drive the terrors away.
As time passed, Severus managed to keep his eyes open for longer and longer periods, staring incuriously up at the bed canopy, the dim light of torch and candle becoming a balm to his badly abused eyes. One time he found himself under the showerhead, busy little fingers washing his hair even though he did not recall rising nor turning the taps on. Another time he found himself sitting at the dining table eating a bowl of soup with a silver spoon.
The voice pulled him away from his dreams and made him think. It asked how he was feeling now and told him that he should think about getting dressed now as he had been here for a week already. He did not acknowledge the voice and eventually it went away yet the words stayed with him. Should he get up out of bed every morning? Was it necessary to his continued existence? It was. "Wake me in the morning," he muttered and then went back to sleep.
Levil woke Severus the next morning as ordered, and urged him to rise. Severus rose and showered, dressed in work robes and ate what was in front of him at the urging of the elf. He even moved to the desk and sat down in his very familiar chair staring at the familiar inkwell and quill waiting to be used. He brushed a finger down the vanes of the goose quill, hearing the soft scraping noise as if it was booming in the silence. Turning his head slightly left, he spotted a box of flat parchment sheets simply sitting there, waiting for him to write, but what should he write?
Taking the first sheet, he dipped the quill and poised, then wrote in his careful copperplate hand:
Plants as Potions Ingredients, A to Z:
How Harvesting And Treatment Changes The Properties
By
Severus I. Snape
He paused to study what he had written, then turned the sheet over and dropped it into the box that appeared at his right hand before taking the next sheet and placing a capital 'A' at the top. He began to write swiftly and neatly, sometimes drawing an illustration with careful and precise detail, sometimes pausing in thought before continuing down the page. As each page was filled, a number placed itself at the bottom and the page floated face down to be filed in the box on the right. When meal times came, Levil brought up a tray and carefully waited until his Master had finished the page before sliding the tray in front of him. As soon as the meal was finished, the house-elf took the tray away and Master continued to write in his precise hand until nightfall forced Levil to make him rest.
Each day followed the same pattern, rise, ablutions, dress, eat, write, eat, write, eat, write, eat, ablutions, bed. The left hand box had been refilled with blank pages many times while the page numbering on the right hand pages had reached over fifty-four thousand when suddenly the Master stopped writing and put his quill down half way through the page. It was mid-morning. Levil quivered alert, having completed the cleaning of the rooms and remaking of the bed.
"Master?" he asked softly.
"I've finished," Severus said quietly. "I have written down all the knowledge of the plant species and how to prepare them, the affects each type of preparation has on the property of that particular plant part and how the actual treatment of the prepared plant part changes the properties in the potion."
"Ah…"
"If you take a fresh dandelion, picked roots and all by the light of the noonday sun, it is not the same as a dandelion picked by the light of the moon. If you dry a dandelion before using it, the effects are different from the fresh. Whether you slice, tear, grind or pulverise the parts makes a difference, too. It's all here, to the best of my knowledge. I didn't lose any knowledge, we... I… managed to save the knowledge if not the emotions." There was a note of relief and triumph in the rarely used voice as Master rose and stretched fully, pulled the kinks out of his spine before striding over to the potions cabinet and pulled out a small blue bottle to gulp down the contents. "Pain reliever. My hand is about to cramp severely."
"Yes, Master, would you care for some coffee?"
The coffee was hot and freshly brewed, not the slop Hogwarts served. Coffee Levil had brought from the Snape Estates in Jamaica for Master's consumption. Smiling in pleasure, Severus enjoyed the brew, inhaling the steam and allowing the potent aroma to slowly uncramp his nerves as well as his physical muscles. "How long?"
"You have been writing for five weeks, Master. The Headmaster checked on you every day but you would not acknowledge him nor Professor McGonagall who comes down every three days to say hello to you."
"I see… My surrogate parents have been taking care of me then," he mused and sniggered a little at the thought.
"Yes, my Lord," the elf agreed, with its own smile of understanding.
"Has term started?"
"Yes, my Lord, two weeks ago."
"Humm. Should I shock them by appearing in the Great Hall for…"
"Dinner, my Lord. It would be… interesting," the elf agreed, with a very unelf-like smirk.
"Very. Robes, Levil, if you please."
Severus Snape was back and ready to terrorise – er – teach!
oo0oo
End of Part 1
AN: That's Part 1 up and part 2 is ready to begin. Its not new but it has been revamped. My Betas, Zarathustra and Wicked Bunjihiny, do catch everything, the extra commas, repeated words and sentences that defy any diagramming by anyone sane. but then, I just have to go and fiddle with bits after they have done a sterling job of fixing the mess. Hopefully I caught all the new errors I made in my tweaking, if not, blame me, they all belong to me and no one else. So, see you in Part 2.