Chapter 58:

Healing

With a nod, Poppy turned to the two wizards behind her. Both Dumbledore and Lupin wore such grave expressions that Severus felt as if they had just been invited to assist in his execution.

Perhaps they had been.

Lupin positioned himself next to Pomfrey and drew his wand while Molly strode over to the bed and retrieved a small silvery tray, which the Mediwitch had prepared there earlier.

Albus moved around the wheelchair until he stood directly behind it. He laid both his hands on Severus' shoulders and squeezed them encouragingly whilst urging the younger wizard's upper body against the backrest with gentle force. Not until then did Severus notice how stiffly he had been sitting there, ever since the three wizards had entered the room.

"Relax, Severus," Albus whispered from behind him, as he started to gently massage his tense shoulders. "It might be best if you leaned against me and tried to relax. This isn't going to be very pleasant, I fear."

Severus hesitated for a second, but then he gave in and let himself fall against the warm body of the headmaster, suppressing a soft sigh just in the last moment. When one of the reassuring hands left his shoulder and came up to his forehead, pressing his head lightly against Albus' chest, he closed his eyes and let it happen. The body behind him and the soothing hands on his shoulder and brow radiated a comfortable warmth which seemed to spread throughout his entire body. And for the first time in countless days, it appeared the warmth was reaching his soul, at least a little.

In this very moment, Severus could almost convince himself that the pleasant feeling was genuine. That it was not only his value in the fight against Voldemort that was of importance to Albus.

Then he heard Lupin start murmuring something so faintly that he could not understand the words. The first signs of strong magic began to fill the room like the crackle of electricity.

Something as light as a feather, most probably Poppy's wand, touched his fingers and then the hand started tingling slightly. He felt the muscles in his hand stiffen and stretch. All in all, it was not that bad. Severus kept his eyes closed, trying to keep down the nervousness that had slowly but incessantly crept upon him and concentrated on Albus' reassuring closeness instead.

That even worked for a few minutes, until, suddenly, Pomfrey swore under her breath and Lupin's murmuring acquired a note of urgency as it grew into a torrent of Latin words. The crackling in the air increased to such a point that it made goosebumps appear all over Severus' skin, the tingling in his hand turning into a painful burning sensation.

Severus stifled a moan whilst his hand wanted to cramp up and instinctively try to evade the pain. But Pomfrey seemed to have anticipated this reaction, as her hand was gripping his in a vice-like grip around his fingers and soon pinned it to the table.

Upon feeling the firm resistance, Severus opened his eyes, his gaze instinctively drawn towards the aching hand. The sight that greeted him made his stomach clench and he instantly regretted ever having looked at it. However, he could not avert his eyes any more. He hardly noticed Lupin and Pomfrey standing around the small table, their wands pointed at his hand. His gaze was fixed on the thing lying on the table. The huge hole that was still gaping in the middle of his ruined hand. Bones of his middle hand showed through the hole like thin twigs arranged in a macabre pattern connecting his fingers with the rest of his hand while a first layer of yellowish sinews had developed over the hole. This layer, however, was like the surrounding muscle tissue, covered with a sickly looking, snot-green shimmer which strove to annihilate any healing success by Poppy's magic and ate its way into the newly built sinews like concentrated acid.

At the same time, the burning sensation intensified tenfold and it felt as if the entire hand had caught fire. Severus clenched his teeth tightly to fight against the pain. However, the sensation did not abate until Severus felt it reach about the same level of agony as when Malfoy inflicted the ugly injury. Severus could not hold back any longer and started to scream full force.

"""""""""""""""""""""

Almost automatically, Sirius jumped from the comfortable arm-chair he was sitting in when the nearly inhuman shrieks echoed through the house. But he soon remembered that it was not him anymore who was responsible for taking care of Snape and helping him through his nightmares. No, at this very moment, Albus, Pomfrey, Molly, and Remus were supposed to make the git's hands all right again, weren't they?

Well, these screams did not exactly sound 'all right'. What on earth were they doing with Snape?

Sirius glanced briefly at the easy-chair in front of the fireplace and then at the door. No. This did not concern him anymore. Not in the least. Should they well slaughter Snape...

With a stifled curse, he threw the book he had been reading carelessly onto the armchair and walked out of the room to the direction of Snape's chamber.

Obviously, he was not the only one that had been startled by Snape's shrieks. When he reached the first floor, Sirius saw Harry and Ron coming out of their room with flabbergasted faces, apparently intending to head in the direction of the screams.

"Stay in your room," admonished Sirius while walking up to them. The two teens whirled around.

"Was that Snape?" asked Ron.

Sirius nodded.

"What's wrong with him?" Harry inquired.

"They are trying to heal his hands," Sirius answered.

"That doesn't sound as if it was working particularly well," said Ron meekly.

"It doesn't indeed," answered Sirius, as the three of them were walking towards Snape's room.

Ginny, Hermione, and the Weasley twins had just arrived in front of the door too, with partly worried, partly expectant faces.

"They're healing his hands?" George asked with a grin when he noticed Sirius. Hermione shot the redhead an angry glare.

"You! Stay out of the room!" ordered Sirius as sternly as he could manage, making the grin on George's face disappear.

"Why?"

"Yes, why?" Fred rushed to aid his twin. "We'd really like to see Snape being the one who's maltreated for a change. At school it's usually the other way around."

"This is hardly comparable," Hermione hissed at him.

The twin was just about to retort when, to Sirius' surprise, Ron cut in. "She's right, guys. Snape might be a miserable git but this time, he's really bad off. We should listen to Sirius."

The Animagus stared at the younger Weasley as if he had grown a second head. Harry did likewise. It was hard to believe that Ronald Weasley of all people was showing concern for Snape.

Perhaps the last weeks and the things he had heard and seen had somewhat sensitised him after all, thought Sirius, before he looked over at the other four, noticing the satisfied smile on Hermione's face as she regarded Ron.

Well, then again, maybe Ron just wanted to impress her, the Animagus added inwardly.

Anyhow, the important thing was that they listened to him. He strode over to the door, but before opening it, Sirius once again turned to the teenagers. "You may listen at the door, but make sure Snape doesn't notice." He hesitated. "Neither Molly nor Poppy. Or you'll be in serious trouble. They'll wring your necks."

Then he opened the door and entered the room.

Immediately, a bitter taste rose to his mouth and the hair in his neck stood on end as if something dark and dangerous was waiting for him, ready to lunge.

There, in the middle of the room, was Snape in his wheelchair. He was clenching his jaws so hard that Sirius was afraid he would soon maim his own teeth if he continued like this. The Potions master's eyes were clenched tight as well and his nostrils were dilated with his ragged, heavy breathing. Dumbledore was standing at his side, slightly behind him, one hand clamped around Snape's upper arm, the other around his wrist. Even from his faraway position, Sirius could discern the amount of force the old wizard had to apply to keep the heavily trembling arm still, while Remus and Poppy, their wands with their faintly white and bluish glowing tips pointing at the hand on the table, were standing in front of the wheelchair, their faces covered in sweat. Poppy seemed to be deeply concentrated whereas Remus was murmuring incessantly under his breath.

Molly was standing somewhat helplessly next to them, a Muggle syringe in her raised hands. Her eyes travelled between Snape and the Mediwitch, as if she was waiting nervously for the Mediwitch's orders.

"We're almost there, Albus. Keep him still for just one more minute," Poppy gritted through clenched teeth.

"Madame," said Molly with a frown, and her voice had acquired an almost pleading note. "He can't take much more of this. His pulse is literally racing. The pain..."

"Not yet! If he loses consciousness now, Albus will lose his connection to him," the Mediwitch responded without turning her attention away from the hand. "Come on now, damn...," she cursed, while Remus never broke off his litany of words.

"Poppy," Molly pleaded again. But before she could continue, Remus' voice suddenly increased in volume and the stifling atmosphere in the room became even more oppressing. Then the werewolf's wand, together with Poppy's, descended onto the hand completely, and a dark green smoke rose from the injured limb with a hissing noise and blew away into a dark corner where it was absorbed by the ancient walls. Dark magic had been at home in these walls for so long that they sucked it in as greedily.

Snape emitted a low, panting cry and crumpled up in his chair. Only Albus' gripping him hastily around the chest kept him from sliding to the ground.

Remus' murmuring had ceased and he stepped back a little, utterly drained, while Albus drew Severus' body against his, brushing a strand of sweaty hair from his face and stroked his brow soothingly. Sirius walked over to Remus and put an arm on his shoulder, something the werewolf accepted with a faint smile. Poppy, although undeniably very exhausted as well, kneeled down in front of the half unconscious wizard, reaching for his neck and feeling his pulse with two fingers while slowly moving her wand over his body.

"It's fine, everything is going to be fine, Severus. It's over now," she said soothingly. The younger wizard, however, did not answer and still had his eyes clenched in agony.

"Poppy?" Molly held the syringe meaningfully close to the entry of the IV and when the Mediwitch nodded to her, she emptied its contents into the tube. After about one minute, the medicine did its work and Snape's facial expression relaxed as he fell asleep.

"What he needs now more than anything is rest to regain his strength," said Pomfrey with a tired smile.

"How is his hand?" asked Dumbledore, who was still holding the Potions master's limp body tightly.

Poppy rose, and only then did she notice Sirius. She frowned indignantly but Sirius only shrugged.

"He was screaming so loud one could certainly hear him as far as Hogsmeade," he said as an excuse.

Poppy did not seem to consider his being there worth wasting more of her precious energy and only motioned in the direction of the bed. "Please fold back the blanket then, Mister Black."

Shrugging once again, Sirius did as he was told and tried to catch a glimpse of Snape's hand from behind Poppy's body as he walked over to the bedstead.

"His hand isn't healed," said Albus, who regarded the Mediwitch with a serious expression. Sirius approached them. The gaping hole was not there any longer but Snape's palm was one large scar tissue under which the outlines of the bones were visible.

Pomfrey sighed deeply, but before she started to answer, she disconnected the Muggle IV from the needle inserted into Snape's arm, lifted the unconscious wizard from his chair with the help of her wand and levitated him onto the bed where Remus was already waiting to tuck him in.

"I'm sorry, but that's all we could do," she admitted sadly.

"The dark magic had eaten its way deeply into the tissue and, considering the sheer force of Voldemort's curse, it was rather fortunate that we were at least able to remove the high concentration around his hand," explained Remus. "And he did not have a relapse from the magical overload. We can still continue with magic."

"But then I could as well have given him a potion instead of this Muggle stuff," Molly cut in. Poppy nodded.

"Yes, but the syringe was ready at hand already. Plus Severus did not have to swallow the fluid that way. And the Muggle drug works just fine, I can assure you."

"Will healing the other hand be as bad?" asked Molly, shuddering inwardly.

Poppy nodded again. "I fear so. Therefore, we will wait a few days so Severus will have time to recover from today's ordeal." She glanced over to Remus with a faint smile. "And us, too."

Then, the Mediwitch turned around to address Albus, who was still staring at Severus' scarred hand, regret in her voice. "I believe he'll be able to use it again. Given enough time and physiotherapy, that is." She met Dumbledore's gaze. "However, I'm afraid the scars will remain."

00000000000000

Thanks to the wonderful Betas Slytherin's silver snake and Sadistra and to Persephone Lupin for the translation.