Chapter 48:

More Catastrophes

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Somebody gently shook his shoulder. "Sirius, wake up."

The Gryffindor tried to ignore the obtrusive voice. He was still tired and wasn't in the least inclined to leave the comfort of the soft blanket, under which he was buried, just yet.

"Why don't you let me sleep? Go away," he mumbled grumpily.

A soft laugh reached his sleepy ears. "Time to get up, my boy. It's your turn again to look after Severus."

Eventually, those words seeped into Sirius's brain and he groaned loudly whilst burying his head under a soft pillow to shut out his surroundings.

"That doesn't help, my young friend. You won't escape your task any time soon, I fear. Come, my lad, get up. I just put on some fresh coffee for you."

The headmaster's voice sounded much too cheerful this early in the morning, in Sirius' opinion. However, the Animagus liked the idea of a steaming cup of coffee.

He disentangled his head from the pillow and stared morosely at the broadly grinning Dumbledore. "I take it that Snap's still alive and kicking, then?"

Dumbledore nodded. "His heart finally calmed down. He's weakened, but he's also stable. Are you coming?"

"Do I have a choice?" grumbled Sirius surely. He struggled to the edge of the bed and sat up, yawning. "Is there really nobody else who could ...?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, my boy, there's nobody. If there were, I wouldn't have asked you to do it. Tomorrow, however, I'm going to the Ministry to try to get the Aurors removed from the school. As soon as this is accomplished, Poppy and us others will take over, but not before."

Sirius sighed discontentedly. "But Pomfrey has washed him and changed the bandages, hasn't she?"

"Yes, of course. You only need to look after him from time to time and keep an eye on his vital signs. Poppy gave him some powerful drugs, and most likely he'll sleep for another couple of hours. You don't need to do anything before he awakes. Severus should eat a little to regain his strength, then."

It took Sirius a few seconds to process the implication. "You want me to feed him?"

"He can't use his hands, so …yes."

Sirius glared at Dumbledore in shock. The old wizard couldn't be serious. He had already humiliated himself by bathing Snape, but, much to Sirius' relief, the man had been unconscious during that joyful procedure.

"Albus, you cannot demand this of me," he pleaded.

Sighing softly, Dumbledore sat down beside him on the edge of the bed. "Sirius, please."

Sirius groaned inwardly at the intense gaze from the headmaster's blue eyes. He couldn't possibly deny his plea when he looked at him like this. Dumbledore obviously had no idea what he was asking of him. Snape would go ballistic if he tried to feed him, or he would put on this arrogant sneer of his and act as if Sirius was his personal slave who only existed to pamper his whims. Damn, Snape would thoroughly enjoy this. It would provide him with prime ammunition to constantly mock him. The greasy git would use the knowledge about how Sirius had humiliated himself to blackmail him whenever this would gain him an advantage. Hadn't he done so with Lupin when Remus was still teaching? However, there was no way this would work with him, he decided. He would turn the tables before Snape could even begin to play his little games.

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For the first time in many days, waking up wasn't a painful experience for Severus. He felt as if a heavy and numbing blanket was covering his body, making any attempt at moving absolutely impossible.

He forced his leaden eyelids open. The room was all blurry until it finally came into focus. His mouth was so dry it felt as if it was stuffed with cotton.

He was alone in the room and was more than grateful for it. The last thing he remembered clearly was a wave of excruciating pain engulfing his entire being, a pain similar to the Cruciatus. The rest was mere shreds and pieces of pictures and voices; Poppy, Albus, and Black had been there and had held him down while talking at him all the time.

The sensation of lying in a nest of soft pillows felt unreal to him. Much of what had happened those last days and weeks seemed fragmented and hazy. The torture, however, was all too real in his memory. How the children had been killed and that he, in the end, had humiliated himself in front of Malfoy and Voldemort. He was thoroughly disgusted by himself. He had tortured and killed so many people in his life, so why had those children gotten to him so much?

Malfoy had shown him how worthless and helpless he really was, the ultimate aim of all the torture inflicted upon him being to wear him down and to make him vulnerable to this one lesson; he was well aware of this. And the climax of it all was how they had just dumped him on a pile of rotting corpses like one would a piece of trash.

He wasn't there any longer, though. He was safe. Only, the feelings were still there, the fear, the shame and the deep meaninglessness of his life. Severus had allowed them to break him, and he despised and loathed himself for it. What a joke he was. Ever since he was born, he had never possessed enough backbone to achieve something all by himself; he had been taken advantage of by pretty much everybody. Even now he was being taken advantage of, when he had sworn to defend the last remnants of his pride with his life. The horrible memories were still holding him in their iron grip and combined with reality again and again, triggering an automatic response to Black's voice whenever the Animagus used words similar to Malfoy's and effectively depriving him of any form of control. And the worst was that Black was here to revel in his weakness. He just couldn't bear his childhood enemy, the one besides Potter he had yearned to prove himself to most, watching how pathetic he was.

Damn, he didn't want Black to nurse him. Hadn't they embarrassed him enough already? Severus struggled to lift his arms and eventually managed the task although his limbs seemed to be more than double their normal weight. With disdain, he noticed the tube of a Muggle IV disappearing beneath a bandage on the inner side of his right elbow. Poppy sometimes fell back upon those methods when a patient wasn't conscious enough to swallow potions, but Severus knew that, in his case, it was because his body didn't tolerate any healing draughts. He had seen painful proof of it only hours ago. His hands were heavily bandaged, reminding him of the ugly wounds they were hiding and of the terrible agony those wounds had caused when they had been inflicted upon him. He shuddered at the memory. At the moment, however, this pain, as well as the pain in his shoulders that had burned like fire with every movement or strain ever since he was brought here, had quietened into a dull pounding ache.

Severus gazed at the slightly opened door. Surely, Black would reappear soon to gloat at him in his weakness, but he wouldn't let him if he could somehow prevent it.

Carefully, he lowered his legs from the pillow they rested upon and manoeuvred them over the edge of the bed; letting his feet drop to the floor. The burns caused merely a faintly throbbing ache, not more, and with renewed hope he tried to sit up. However, as soon as he had lifted his head from the pillows, he was hit by a wave of nausea that made him sink back onto the mattress, groaning in exasperation.

The room seemed to spin around rapidly and he had the feeling that, directly behind his eyes, somebody was pounding his skull with a sledgehammer while cold sweat broke out on his forehead. Severus forced himself to breathe deeply to regain some orientation. His left arm he flung across his eyes to be better able to fight the dizziness, when suddenly he sensed that something, besides the feeling of vertigo, was amiss. It took some time for the room to stop spinning and the pounding in his head to diminish somewhat so he could concentrate enough to find out what exactly felt so wrong. He let his arm drop to his side again. His head still felt strange, though; it was too light, and when a chilling draft of air hit the sweaty skin of his neck he realized what it was. All his life, Severus had had long hair, except for this one time when the Weasley twins had singed his black locks so badly that he had had to cut them. Of course, he had magically let them grow back to their usual length immediately, but he could still remember the unfamiliar sensation of air hitting his exposed ears and neck. Even on the odd occasion when he gathered his hair into a ponytail there wasn't this feeling of nakedness. This could mean only one thing. His long hair was gone. Severus couldn't remember Malfoy clipping it, but he chased away those thoughts after only seconds. He had more pressing problems to think about at the moment than his hair, one being how to get out of bed without collapsing and hitting his nose in another dizzy spell.

"Where do you think you're going, Snape?"

Black. Severus shut his eyes, completely exhausted.

The Gryffindor entered the room and came over to his bed. "Now, don't tell me you don't like the room service here. Want to run, eh?"

"Get lost, Black," Severus murmured while trying hard to stare down the Animagus. He would have blushed if he hadn't been so dizzy. Why was it that Black had to see him right now when he was looking weaker than ever?

"You are repeating yourself, Snape. However, you won't get rid of me that soon."

Black roughly grabbed Severus' legs, propped them back up on the pillow and, without asking whether or not the Slytherin wanted it, covered them with the blanket.

"Madame Pomfrey gave you some strong pain-killers. Muggle stuff. As long as those are in your system, they'll make you too dizzy to even think of getting up. However, you can't go without them yet because of the pain. So, you better stop this and try to not make both our lives more difficult than they already are."

Severus just couldn't stand the Gryffindor's patronizing tone. All he wanted was for Black to leave him alone and disappear. For a minute, Sirius looked down on him as if he were something slimy and disgusting he had just stepped onto. Then, to Severus' surprise and without uttering a word, Black turned on his heels and left the sickroom.

Severus' respite from his childhood nemesis lasted only a few minutes, which he spent staring disheartened at the ceiling. He couldn't even leave his bed alone. How pathetic. Not for the first time, he wished they had just let him die.

With a tray in his hands, Black re-entered the room. He set his burden down on the small round table and shoved it closer to the bed. Severus ignored whatever he did and stubbornly glared at the Gryffindor.

"Pomfrey said you should try to get some food into you when you wake up," Black said with as much enthusiasm as a student talking about an upcoming exam. Severus surveyed the plate and the glass of water, trying hard not to stare too longingly at the food. He was terribly thirsty and the sight of the water made him dry-swallow painfully while, although the plate held nothing but a clear broth, his stomach began to rumble audibly.

With an abrupt jerk, he pulled his gaze away from the plate, but Black had already noticed and barked a laugh. Severus felt hot blood shooting up into his cheeks. Again, he had managed to humiliate himself in front of Black.

"Looks as if you were indeed hungry. Just say 'please' like a good boy, and I'll help you eat." Black's voice was almost dripping with mockery.

Severus focused on the anger that rose in his chest and mixed with the shame. Anger he could handle, but shame was impossible to bear.

"I already told you, Black. I don't need your bloody help," he growled, lowering his head and glaring up at the Gryffindor. If he had still had his long hair, a curtain of black strands would have half-covered his face making his dark eyes appear even more threatening. The effect of this well practised movement was made to naught, however.

Black only grinned at him arrogantly; apparently, he was thoroughly enjoying every minute of seeing Severus helpless and vulnerable. Exactly as it used to be in school.

Ignoring Severus' protest, Black sat down on the edge of the bed in a mock-motherly gesture. He took the plate and the spoon, watching Snape intently while doing so. "Why, Snivelly, such harsh words when all I want is to help you. I'm deeply hurt now."

Severus couldn't bear Black's tone any longer. He tried to convince himself that the Gryffindor's sickening self-importance made him angry. However, it wasn't anger that made his chest constrict and caused his heart to beat faster. It was the complete helplessness of his situation. Black could do just everything to him, and it seemed as if he enjoyed it exactly as much as Malfoy had enjoyed it only a few days ago.

And there was nothing he could do.

With a self-satisfied smile, Black filled the spoon with soup, blew on it, and then held it up to Severus' mouth.

"Come on, Snivellus. Be a good boy. I promise it won't be as hot as to burn your precious lips."

Severus felt like exploding any minute.

"Get out of here, Black, damn you. I'd rather starve than accept your help."

The smirk on Black's face vanished and his expression darkened. "You have no idea at all what being hungry really means, do you, Snape? For twelve long years, I had to endure going without food for days on end, again and again, not knowing whether they finally had forgotten about me or whether there would be anyone to open the door to my prison cell ever again. Don't you make such a fuss now, Snivellus."

How dare the blasted Gryffindor compare his time with Malfoy to Azkaban, Severus thought bitterly, as a new wave of anger surged through him. Rather a hundred years of Azkaban than ...

"Don't start whining now, Black. Don't you get it? I want you to get lost. I didn't ask for you to be here. I CAN MANAGE ON MY OWN, DAMN YOU!"

The very moment he shouted these words into the Gryffindor's face he knew how pathetic they sounded. With his hands heavily bandaged he wouldn't have been able to feed on his own even if his palms hadn't been pierced and mutilated. However, this wasn't important right now. He would rather go without food than have to endure Black's arrogance. Thanks to the IV, he wouldn't starve or die of thirst any time soon, and he could ignore the nagging hunger as well as he could the parched feeling in his mouth and throat.

"So, you can manage on your own, Snivelly?" Sirius barked while jumping to his feet. He let the spoon drop back onto the plate with a clatter and grabbed Snape's left arm, lifting his bandaged hand to the plate. "Why don't you hold this yourself, then?"

Severus stared at Black wide-eyed, his anger giving way to anxious helplessness. What was the idiot thinking of? How on earth was he supposed to hold the plate like this?

Black tried to press Severus' fingers around the rim of the plate. Then he grabbed Severus' right arm and placed his other hand around the plate as well before stepping aside.

The plate now balanced between Severus' numb hands, swaying precariously, while the soup was swirling around dangerously. Severus desperately tried to get a better hold on the plate, but his injured hands didn't obey him, and his forearms seemed to grow weaker with the second. With rising panic, he watched the plate slide to one side, and when he tried to grab it more firmly, it completely slipped from his fingers showering him, his blanket and the sheets with the hot liquid when it turned over and dropped onto his chest.

Severus fought back the tears stinging his eyes. Tears that hadn't anything to do with the hot soup burning his skin. He was hardly aware of the pain.

"You bloody bastard!" he shouted at the man standing opposite from him. No, Black must never ever see him cry. That would be the final straw. "I'll personally see to that you'll be delivered to the Dementors and receive the Kiss, and if it's the last thing I'll ever do in this life, I swear!" Severus didn't care that he had just threatened Sirius with worse than death. At the moment, he loathed Black with as much venom as he loathed Voldemort and Malfoy.

Black snorted. "It's solely your own fault, Snape. Ever since you woke up, you are behaving like the greasy git you are. Not the slightest sign of gratitude. You people are always the same. All of you!"

Shouting those last words, Black stormed out of the room, banging the door shut behind him.

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Hundreds of spectators jumped up from their seats in the Quidditch stadium, gasping as Isabelle Laroth, the new Ravenclaw Seeker, suddenly took a sharp turn to the right and raced towards the far end of the pitch where a bunch of students clad in blue and white were shouting in joy.

"Laroth seems to have sighted the Snitch. She's racing across the playground at neck-breaking speed while Malfoy is still fighting with White at the other end of the pitch!" echoed the voice of the announcer through the magical microphone.

"Malfoy, you complete git. You are supposed to search for the Snitch and not jostle your opponents!" Ron's voice was already hoarse from shouting, and now, he angrily shook his fist at the Slytherin Seeker, who tried to free himself from the angry Ravenclaw Beater just a few meters above their heads.

When he finally succeeded and raced after the other Seeker, Isabelle was leaning forward on her broom, her face screwed up in concentration, and grabbed for something Ron couldn't quite make out from the distance.

The ranks of Ravenclaws erupted with cheers when Laroth held something small and golden high above her head in triumph.

At the sight of the Snitch in her hand, the Gryffindors started groaning while the Slytherins loudly protested the result.

"Damn! Now we don't have the slightest chance to win the Cup this year," Harry complained disappointedly.

The rare occasion of Gryffindors siding with Slytherin was due to the fact that Ravenclaw, so far, was the only House to win all their games. Gryffindor had lost against Slytherin, while Hufflepuff had beaten the latter. If Ravenclaw had lost today's game, it would have been a tie, and Gryffindor would have won by total points scored.

"Try to look at it positively," said Hermione. "We are still better than Slytherin, and that they lost against Hufflepuff must have hurt a lot. It probably still hurts."

"I bet, Snape's gonna freak out when he hears about it," said Ron with a smile that quickly disappeared from his freckled face again. "Sorry, guys," he added somewhat dejectedly.

After what had happened not long ago, the topic 'Snape' had become a delicate issue, and even Ron's open antipathy towards the teacher was combined with feelings of guilt.

"We should go inside," said Hermione after an uncomfortable moment of silence. "It's getting cold. Colin and Ginny have already left."

"That has hardly anything to do with the weather," Ron grumbled morosely. It was common knowledge that he wasn't exactly happy about his sister's new boyfriend. In Ron's opinion, Colin was still much too childish to have a serious relationship.

"Don't be such a spoilsport," Hermione scolded. "The two of them are in love, that's obvious."

"Yeah, sure. At least for this one month."

"Ron, you sometimes are as romantic as a plank," Hermione groaned, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

As they, together with a bunch of equally disappointed Gryffindors, stepped onto the lawn passing two Aurors, Harry saw Albus Dumbledore talking with Hagrid in the shadows of the stand.

"Look. Over there."

"Hagrid seems to be worried," Hermione observed as she came walking up to Harry's side together with Ron.

"Wonder what they are talking about?" asked the redhead.

"Let's find out, Ron. Hermione?" Harry started to walk towards the Professors.

"Oh, hey 'arry," greeted Hagrid upon seeing them, a rather forced smile on his face. "The headmaster jus' told me 'bout Professor Snape and that Sirius is tak'n care of him."

So, this was what was worrying the gamekeeper. Actually, everybody seemed to be rather anxious about this arrangement, everybody except Dumbledore. However, Harry had the feeling that there was more to the story. Usually, the half-giant trusted Dumbledore's judgement blindly, and he had rarely found Hagrid's face not lighten up as soon as he saw his young Gryffindor friends, even if he was troubled by something.

"Are you ok, Hagrid?" he asked.

"I ... Well ..." He cast Dumbledore a quick glance before nervously scratching his head. "I'm jus' worried 'bout what happen'd to Professor Snape, you know, with You Know Who an' stuff."

Harry arched his eyebrow indicating that he didn't believe the half-giant's explanation.

"Severus was having a rather troubled night. But he's better now."

Harry looked at the headmaster, whose voice sounded uncharacteristically tired. There were dark circles around his eyes, and his complexion was rather pale. Nonetheless, Dumbledore was smiling cheerfully. He Probably remembered the last time he had tried to keep something secret from Harry and now didn't want to repeat the mistake.

"What happened?" asked Hermione.

"Severus reacted badly to the second dose of the healing potion. But, as I said, he is better now. I want to find out what curse used on him as quick as possible. Unfortunately, I won't have much time the next days to complete my research. I have urgent business with the Ministry. I hope, Severus will remember the curse and thus be able to help us. Poppy, Remus and Minerva are informed. They will look after him during my absence and ask him about the curse as soon as he feels a bit better."

"And if he cannot remember? He was unconscious when we found him. Perhaps Voldemort cursed him while he wasn't awake?"

"I strongly doubt that, Harry. Voldemort, for sure, wanted Severus to be aware of how he magically crippled him. If not, however, I'll have to rely on the old books I have gathered so far."

"We could help you with the books, couldn't we, Professor Dumbledore?" Hermione blurted out. Her face virtually glowed with enthusiasm, and Harry wasn't sure whether this was because she would finally be able to help or rather because of the prospect of being allowed to read through those rare old tomes.

Dumbledore seemed to consider the proposition while stroking his beard leisurely. "Hmm, I'm not sure. I'm almost done anyway. Originally, I intended to skim through the last one last night, but Severus ..." His gaze clouded over and darkened with concern. However, he quickly snapped out of his heavy thoughts and focused his attention on his students again. "In any case. The books are not for children's hands. They are all about Dark magic, since there is no question about that this was a very Dark curse. I couldn't allow students to read those, not even so bright ones as you, Miss Granger."

This didn't seem to sit well with Ron, however. "Have you, by any chance, noticed what we've been through over the last five years, sir? Especially Harry? Do you really think we would be impressed by some books about Dark magic?"

"I must admit you have a point here, Mr Weasley," answered Dumbledore with a soft chuckle. "All right, as you wish. I'll leave the last book with Hagrid so you will be able to get it from him with the help of your Invisibility cloak.

"But," he lifted his finger admonishingly, "you must not be seen by the Aurors with such a book. You could be expelled by the Ministry and the Board of school governors. Hide it well, children, and return it as soon as you are through with it."

"Of course, headmaster." Hermione beamed with anticipation.

On the way back to the castle, when they were safely out of Dumbledore's earshot, Ron snorted loudly. "Does the old man really believe we'd be scared by some old tomes? Ridiculous."

"I hope, mate, you're aware of that you and your protest just got us to spend all night with a book?" Harry asked with a twisted smile.

Ron's mouth fell open and he stopped in his tracks, thoroughly shocked. "Shit, I never even thought of that."

T.B.C.

Translated by Persephone Lupin

Betaed by Slytherin's silver snake and Sadistra.

Since I'm being a real modest person, just like any Slytherin would be (And yes, I do think I may be ending up there, I have part Slyth, part Hufflepuff in me) I will 'accidentally' let slip that I wanted to post this before my birthday tomorrow.

So for all the Gryffindors out there who are not adapt in the not so subtle but still finer mannerism of manipulation. I expect lot's of virtual cakes:-P

Something else: Who, do you all think is the half blood prince? I think it's not impossible for it to be Snape.