A Promise to be Better 4
Author: Raven Dancer
disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling except for the Drs. Barnes and Beryl. I receive no monetary compensation for these works.
Summary: While the students start to accept the changes, many of the staff feel Snape will soon revert back to his anger.
The Ministry did send their report the following week. The aurors had questioned the family before altering their memories, taking away the torture. The loss of their home through the fire was traumatic enough and they wizards had returned them to the smoldering scene within two hours.
In reading the accounts Dumbledore grew more impressed with his 'spy'. He had risked a great deal to save all six members of the family. The report mentioned how Snape had returned four times to get all the family out. Four times back into the flames.
He was disturbed by the complaint Snape had not supplied any names of participants besides Pettigrew. The Ministry officially did not believe he was alive and was, in fact, a traitor. Snape couldn't very well give names if he didn't see faces. The wizard was very reluctant to give up names if he wasn't certain. The masks effectively covered the full face and the speaking charm made it impossible to discern a normally familiar voice. He was pleased that the muggles confirmed the attackers were masked with strangely accented and pitched voices.
It was late afternoon, Wednesday. The Potions Master should be finishing up with a 4th year class. He hadn't been to lunch again. In fact, he didn't recall seeing Snape at breakfast either. Dumbledore decided to walk down and encourage him to come to dinner.
As he walked through the corridors he listened to the children chattering. They were happy, talking about potions of all things. Not about the nasty teacher but about a removing potion they had brewed that would remove ink from parchment without damaging it. The ability to fix mistakes without having to rewrite an entire parchment thoroughly pleased them and several carried small potions bottles full of the liquid.
A bright red head nearly careen into him, so intent on the small bottle in her hand.
"Headmaster!" Ginny Weasley squeaked. Her friend's dark eyes were big with worry.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you," she continued.
"I don't suppose you did, with that bottle claiming all your attention!" he said in a bemused tone. "What is so wonderful that you can't keep your eyes from it?" he teased her gently.
"It's a removing potion. Professor Snape let us keep some if we brewed it correctly," she said happily. "It erases ink," her friend added, "so we can fix mistakes on our homework!"
"We all got a bottle, even Justin finished it up right," Ginny continued.
"Well, that is a wonderful potion to have. Go on and clean up for dinner," the Headmaster smiled brightly and moved aside so the children could catch up with their classmates. Stepping down the hall he walked into the potions classroom. The professor was erasing the board.
"What, not using some of that wondrous potion you brewed today?" Dumbledore teased. Snape didn't even turn.
"No, it doesn't work on chalk. Have to use the old fashioned eraser for the board," Snape said equitably. He sounded calm.
"You've never shared that particular potion with me, I think I'm hurt," the older man took over Snape's desk chair and continued to watch him move around the room straightening and cleaning up.
"Albus Dumbledore never makes a mistake," he said with a slight smile.
"Oh, right!" they both laughed. Snape finally stopped and leaned against the large desk.
"In fact," Dumbledore continued, "I don't believe you've ever brewed this potion with the students before."
Snape looked thoughtful. "I let them think it was a kindness. Actually, I absolutely hate cross-outs and their pitiful attempts at scraping the ink off the parchment when they make a mistake. Now I'll be guaranteed nice, neat work for at least the month," he smiled wickedly.
"In fact, I told them if they kept up working hard I'd open the lab once a month and they can brew more. I also said it was a fourth-year privilege and only they could brew it. That should open up a furious black market, don't you think?" Snape was very pleased with himself.
"You old sneak!" Dumbledore laughed, delighted. "Now they'll trade it with their housemates!"
"And I won't have to deal with messy papers any more!" Snape chuckled. "Eckels nearly fainted when his turned out correctly. He got two bottles."
"That must be Justin?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yes. He's not as nervous as Longbottom, but a close second. He needed some leverage with some of his housemates in Ravenclaw. This might just work given the house tendency for academic perfection," Snape stretched his back, moving his head from side to side.
"Well done, Severus. I knew you could put that devious mind of yours to better use," the Headmaster's voice was rich in praise. Snape bowed his head slightly and grinned. It was almost better than blowing up and yelling.
"So, why did you really come all the way down here, Headmaster?" Snape asked, still smiling.
"Well, I didn't recall seeing you at lunch or breakfast. Have you eaten anything today?" the older man asked in the same upbeat tone. His companion sighed.
"No, I haven't eaten. Just couldn't drag myself up the stairs. Dobby stopped in earlier and threatened to feed me if I didn't come up," Snape reported.
"Why didn't you? You know you're too thin as is; Barnes will come and feed you again!" concerned tone, but not too overbearing.
"It's hard," Snape pushed off the desk, "and I don't want to sound like I'm complaining."
That threw Dumbledore off. Snape had always complained long and loud when he felt he'd been wronged. Years of it, in fact. He watched Snape move over to a stack of parchment and fidget with it.
"Complain?" he queried.
"I don't like being laughed at," Snape admitted very quietly.
"Nobody does, Severus," the Headmaster said sympathetically.
"I know it will grow less in time, but I've had over 20 years with some of these people and they don't forget. I've caused a lot of angry feelings because of how I acted. I suppose this is pay back," he put both hands on the parchments and leaned against the table.
"Sometimes I think I can't go on like this, my stomach hurts so much. But then I realized last night I really can't go back to what I was. It may relieve the tension screaming and yelling and pitching fits, but it also creates a whole different set of problems. Being angry would not have helped those muggles; I had to be clear-headed. Being angry does not make students work better, it makes it dangerous most of the time. I can't carry the anger against my colleagues either. The hatred spills over into everywhere else," he closed his eyes against all the self-reflection. Dumbledore stood and moved to him, placing an understanding hand on his shoulder.
"You're right, Severus. It will take time and even then some of the people will never give up their own hurt and anger. You'll just have to work hard to do what you can and try to ignore the rest. Have you had a chance to speak with Jeffrey?" he asked gently.
"Yes, he stopped by yesterday to check my shoulder and to do his curse scanning. He seems to think I need to be de-hexed twice a week for some odd reason," Snape reported.
"Did he find anything?" the Headmaster asked.
"Not really. He wants me to eat more," the younger wizard said with a shrug. "We talked a little. He said I could come into town Saturday to see him in his office. He was very pleased and he said he'd like to work with me," Snape concluded.
"Wonderful, Severus. I know Barnes will help you!" he placed another hand on the wizard's back and rubbed gently. Tight, but not as stiff as the week before.
"Why don't you come up to dinner and sit with me. You can tell me about classes and I'll bore you with administrative stuff," Dumbledore offered. Snape shrugged a bit.
"Plus, if you eat all your vegetables, you can come up to my office to read awhile tonight," he tempted Snape. The Potions Master moved his head from side to side deriving more benefit from the massage.
"Ok, I'd like that Albus," he replied softly, "unless it's lima beans. Then I'll have to pass."
Dumbledore, caught off guard by the humor, snorted and leaned against Snape.
"Child, you surprise me," he said. "Let's go clean up for dinner."
"I'll be up shortly, Headmaster. I need to get my papers together," Snape replied.
"I'll save you a chair," Dumbledore moved away and headed out the door.
Twenty minutes later, hair brushed and work robes traded for cleaner, Professor Snape entered the filling great hall. Tonight several students shyly greeted him; he returned their 'hullos' with a nod and returned 'good evening'. The staff table was already full. He glanced up towards the Headmaster and saw a smile and a quick wave. A chair really was waiting for him next to Dumbledore. Moving quicker, he extended the same courtesy for courtesy with various colleagues before settling into his chair. Flitwick was to his left, but the professor was in deep conversation with Professor Vector which allowed Snape to turn to the Headmaster.
Dinner smelled delicious. The house elves had prepared some of his favorites, chicken, mashed rutabagas and potatoes, long green beans, rolls and butter. He conservatively placed food on his plate and poured out iced cranberry juice before passing the pitcher to Flitwick. A small pitcher of gravy appeared next to him and he happily poured some over his chicken.
"Oh, darn, no lima beans," Dumbledore remarked quietly. Snape smiled.
"Oh, darn," he mimicked. They shared a chuckle and began to eat. Snape had to fight not to moan in pleasure. Food tasted soo good. His stomach delighted in the warmth and bulk as he slowly took bite after bite. Dumbledore did not push him to converse much, but they exchanged pleasantries.
Snape began to relate the various students' reactions to the removal potions when McGonagall's voice drifted over.
"Oh Severus, you didn't teach them that stupid potion, did you?" she scoffed.
"I think they found it valuable," he said as mildly as possible.
"It's so much simpler to teach them the charm," Flitwick added quickly. "Less trouble, too."
"I'm sure that it is," Snape ground out pleasantly, taking
another forkful of potatoes and rutabagas. He began to count slowly to ten. Was it Dumbledore's imagination or did Flitwick seem disappointed Snape didn't argue? McGonagall began again on his right.
"You should have asked me, Severus, for the incantation."
"You shouldn't have bothered, Severus, the students should have to redo their work until it's correct," Flitwick continued.
"Yes, Severus, it's really a cheat, using that potion," McGonagall rolled along. Snape set his fork down and wiped his mouth. At least he didn't waste much food. What was in his stomach, once happy, now set like a lead weight.
"It's not cheating, Flitwick. It's a useful tool. You'll benefit, too. They might just spend longer thinking about what they'll write since they won't be rushing to recopy it several times," Snape pointed out trying to sound as normal and calm as possible.
"Nonsense," came the quick retort. "Recopying drives the learning into the brain," and McGonagall agreed with Flitwick.
"I guess we have different thoughts on the matter," Snape managed.
Dumbledore waded into the thick of things. "I don't consider it cheating if you give the students a useful tool. I don't like frustrating children with senseless tasks," he added cooly.
The conversation definitely dwindled, but the damage had been done. Nearly half of what was already a pitifully small portion was left on Snape's plate. The wizard didn't even bother with tea or dessert.
"I think I'll have an early night, then, Headmaster," Snape pushed up and before he could be stopped, left.
Dumbledore was angry. What was this, pick on the Snape night? He turned to McGonagall.
"What did you say to me last Saturday? That you'd try to be more understanding? Just what was that conversation all about? 'Stupid potion?" he asked heatedly. The witch had the decency to blush.
"I was just pointing out how much easier it would be to use a spell than a potion," she tried to defend herself. Unable to reply without yelling, the Headmaster pushed up and left the table.
Snape slammed into his rooms, letting the heavy door ram into the stone. He was angry beyond words, a red fury had built up within him with every step down the stairs to his dungeons. He couldn't yell at anyone. He couldn't slam some stupid idiot into a convenient wall. He couldn't criticize, be sarcastic, couldn't be rude. Had to BLOODY WELL TAKE whatever was dished out to him. Picking up a chair from the table he ran across the room and slammed it into the wall with a satisfying, resounding crash.
Several bottles fell off his shelving joining a litter of glass from earlier that week.
With chest heaving from the uncontainable anger Snape leaned against the much maligned wall. He was down to the one stuffed chair now. gods his stomach burned. He wanted to vomit, get all that vile crap out of him. But he couldn't even do that, could he? Then he'd lose more weight and Barnes would be after him, too. Sinking to the floor, sitting amidst the remains of his chairs, Snape pulled his knees to his chest and tried to control himself.
He'd lost it. Again. At least it was just his stuff he was ruining. His chairs. His wall. His bottles. His stomach. His life. His stupid, worthless life. Oh, great. Now he was going to cry. His stomach roiled in discontent and he wondered if it was even worth going to the loo to vomit. Who cared? No one ever came down here except to torment him. He rested his cheek on his knees and rocked slowly.
Dumbledore stormed up to his office. All the way up he tried to calm himself. He had to be calm. It would do no good to help Snape when he was this angry. He stood at the door breathing deeply. After a dozen good deep breathes he was ready to go inside.
To an empty room. He looked about the office then the study.
"Severus?" he called, popping his head into the bedroom.
Nothing.
"Severus?" he pushed into the bathroom. Empty. It hit him all at once Snape had retreated to his own rooms. Feeling completely overwhelmed he ran and hid. Dumbledore immediately became worried. How upset had the Potions Master been? He certainly hadn't eaten much. He hadn't been sleeping well. He'd been alone except for the students for the bulk of three days. The little contact with him and Barnes would not be enough to help him work through the anger and melancholy.
Very upset then.
Dumbledore immediately left his rooms, nearly bowling McGonagall over in his hurry. He simply glared at her.
"Headmaster, if I may have a word?" she began.
"No," he spat, moving by her and going down the stairs quickly.
"See me tomorrow, Professor," he shot over his shoulder. The Headmaster was soon on the stairs leading to the dungeon. It certainly was dark! He thought there were more torches in the halls. He had no idea Peeves routinely doused most of them in hopes of tripping the Potions Master. Ahead he saw light spilling out of Snape's doorway. Strange. Why would his door be open? He reached the opening and turned in.
Dumbledore's eyes widened significantly. The room was a shambles compared to its normal neatness. Glass was on the floor and against the far wall on top of a the remnants of at least one chair sat the Potions Master. Head cradled in arms and shoulders shaking. Not even noticing someone had come into his quarters.
Not believing anyone would come.
The older man carefully walked across the room and stood in front of Snape.
"Why bother?" the Potions Master said broken, "none of it matters. I don't matter."
"Severus," Dumbledore breathed his name with as much warmth as he could muster. There was no response. Slowly he lowered himself down, pushing wood away and pulled the body gently towards him.
"Severus, come here," again warmth and love. Snape slid over latching onto the Headmaster tightly. All Dumbledore could do was slowly rock the distraught man, crooning softly.
How long they sat together Dumbledore couldn't guess. He was aware at one point someone walked in but the person left quickly. Snape had stopped crying but he was not letting go.
Another person came into the room. This person did not leave but came to them, moving pieces of debris and sat down. Another set of arms and a warmth of energy filled them. Gratefully Dumbledore looked up into Barnes' eyes.
"Hullo Severus," he whispered quietly.
"Hi," came the dull response.
"Maybe we should go clean up and get more comfortable, Severus. You seem a little chilled," the Healer continued kindly. Dumbledore began stroking his friend's cheek and hair.
"Ok," came the flat reply.
Barnes looked at Dumbledore again, wishing telepathy was possible.
"Let's go up to my rooms, Severus," the Headmaster said quietly. It took both men to raise the Potions Master. The halls were mercifully empty as they walked together. Snape neither spoke or watched where he was going, simply followed the guidance of Barnes' hand on his elbow. They were up the moving stairs and into the washroom easily enough. Barnes carefully removed torn robes checking for any cuts or self-inflicted wounds. There were none. There was enough pain in Snape's life he didn't feel compelled to add to it.
Completely on automatic the Potions Master was cleaned and dressed in sleepwear. He was silent, not even giving the single word answers. He moved when pulled or pushed but initiated no moves on his own. Finally Barnes climbed onto the lounge and pulled the man down on top of him. A blanket moved over and covered them both.
"A little tea?" Dumbledore pulled a chair next to them and rested a hand on Snape's back.
"Stomach hurts," the wizard replied nearly too quiet to hear.
"Milk, maybe something very mild like soup, steamed rice?" Barnes said preparing to scan his patient. The Headmaster rang for Dobby and sent the elf down for some food. Then he sat waiting in case he was needed.
Barnes did not find any curses or hexes. He found exhaustion, a nearly empty stomach trying to devour itself, muscles bunching in knots. He fed warm energy through Snape as he pondered what to do.
"Sorry, I didn't handle that very well, Albus," Snape suddenly spoke.
"I really tried. I just don't know how to talk with people."
"Severus, you spoke with everyone at dinner just fine. They were teasing you again," Dumbledore soothed.
"Didn't feel like teasing. Felt like being wrong, like a verbal cruciatus curse. Can't make them happy, can't make Voldemort happy, can't even make you happy," he said dejectedly.
"Severus, they were being mean when they teased you. Flitwick wanted to argue with you. They are used to arguing with you. It's going to take some more time before they don't just react, Severus," he smoothed hair from the man's face.
"You've made me very happy, Severus. Just hearing the students chattering happily about their potions being fun made me happy. You've worked so hard to do all that I've asked of you, I can see that," Dumbledore smiled trying to catch his eye. Snape looked up into his mentor's eyes, saw the smile, the acceptance and sighed deeply.
"I'm very tired," he whispered.
"I know you are, but you need to eat just a little to give your stomach something to do," Barnes interjected.
"I can't eat anything," Snape protested weakly. Dobby chose that moment to pop in with warm soup and bread. A dish of ice cream sat next to the bowl.
"Try for me," Dumbledore asked, offering a spoonful of broth. Barnes shifted his patient and encouraged him to take the warm liquid. Together they coaxed Snape into eating most of‰ the bowl and some bread. The ice cream was easier going down, cool creamy vanilla.
"I'm tired," Snape tried again. This time Barnes simply ran hands over his back and smoothed the tight muscles.
"Then sleep, Severus, we'll be right here for you," he murmured a sleeping charm edging the exhausted man over the abyss. He made no move to get up but looked over at the Headmaster.
"I thought we discussed reducing stress?" Barnes asked rather critically.
"I can't seem to control the staff. The students for the most part seem to be accepting of the changes, a bit gun-shy, but accepting overall. But the staff!" Dumbledore wiped at his eyes.
"Jeffrey, they just don't let up! He's skipping meals most of the time so he doesn't have to listen to them laughing. He's hungry, he can't eat; he's exhausted, he can't sleep, he's running himself ragged trying to behave more rationally and I don't know how to help him!" Dumbledore himself was a bit past the edge and the Healer reached over to take his hand.
"Albus, sshh. It's ok. Severus has been a difficult man from day one. Changing him into a less angry, less nasty person is extremely challenging. We know he has to , especially with the rise of Voldemort and so many lies being exposed. We can't let him self-destruct. He doesn't deserve it. You're doing exactly what you should, providing him with a solid friendship. He just doesn't know how to ask for help yet. He's moving in the right direction, there are just a lot of obstacles he'll have to work on with you and with me," Barnes continued to hold and rub the Headmaster's hand until he got a response.
"Thank you, Jeffrey, I couldn't cope without you," he said quietly.
"You're more than welcome. Working with you is both an honor and a pleasure. I know we'll get Severus up on an even keel and we'll overcome any difficulties thrown before us!" the young doctor's enthusiasm was contagious and Dumbledore felt better for it.
