A Promise to be Better 26
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: the edge
"Later" wasn't anytime soon.
Snape woke late Thursday morning; he was still in the Headmaster's bed. The Headmaster was still there, reading his mail and sipping tea. Barnes was placidly reading a medical journal of some sort in a chair pulled snug against the bed. The late autumn sun lit the room in a drowsy warmth. Snape simply lie in the nest watching the shadows flit across the letters in Dumbledore's hands.
One hand moved away from the papers, pushed glasses back up on the older wizard's nose. Eyes squinted in concentration as the hand slipped down to rest on Snape's head, absent-mindedly stroking hair. The Potions Master moved his head closer to the warmth. Dumbledore glanced down and smiled.
"Good morning, child," he murmured, deep rich voice.
"Morning," Snape whispered as he hid his face in his mentor's robes. Gentle hands on his back, moving up and down, energy flowing and calming. No one rushing him to answer. No one rushing him to get up and leave. Snape wanted to stay here. He was safe and loved and wanted here.
He fell back asleep.
Waking again. Now his nose twitched. Something smelled very good. Something that smelled like chicken and warmth and sage.
Something filled his nose and he opened his eyes to Dumbledore's smiling eyes and Barnes' gentle hands. He was sitting now. Sitting up against pillows. Warm blankets and the smell of chicken and sage and steam.
It was rich and savory and it slipped over his tongue and down to his stomach. What was that noise? Oh.
His stomach.
Spoon after spoon of savory warmth, sage and chicken passed though his lips and down to his stomach. He sighed.
What's this? A straw poked into his mouth. Gentle hand on his face. Juice. Cool apples and pears danced over his tongue and joined the broth in his warm, content stomach.
Bathroom How did he get here? No matter. His body did what it needed to do. Clean cloth washing his face. Clean soft shirt. Warm blanket. Sleep.
"What did you give him?" Dumbledore asked as Barnes finished tucking blankets around his patient.
"Something to let him sleep deeply. No dreams," Barnes said as he stood up. He walked over to the table and joined the Headmaster for some lunch.
"Can you tell me what happened?" the older man asked as he watched the Healer select a sandwich to go with his soup.
"Near as I can tell he had a flashback; Our arguing seems to have triggered some very unpleasant memories. I guess he was trying to sneak out of the room last night to hide from us, his parent substitutes," Barnes sampled the thick barley soup.
"Is that why he's so tired now?" Dumbledore asked with some concern.
"Somewhat. Plus he had a fever and he was completely exhausted again. It's going to take some time to build him back up, Albus," Barnes sounded conciliatory.
"Why is he so fragile still?" the Headmaster asked. Barnes thought very carefully before he answered.
"I think that Black," he held up a hand to keep the older man quiet.
"Sirius is not trying very hard to work with Severus, you've had to talk with the man several times. You've had to send Severus out of the room and it possibly feels like you're taking Sirius's side over his. Add to that the series of pranks that have been pulled. Nothing really dangerous, just upsetting. It escalated slightly yesterday," Barnes told about the boggart. Dumbledore looked concerned.
"A boggart wouldn't have crawled into that cupboard during class time. It was placed there," the Headmaster said slowly.
"That's what I thought, too. I just don't know who put it in there," Barnes said as convincingly as possible. He didn't want to argue about Black now, not even with Snape fast asleep.
"I did push Sirius on the point Tuesday night. After Severus left. He insists he was not harassing Severus. I have to trust him," the Headmaster concluded.
*Oh no, you don't!* thought Barnes, but again, he didn't pursue the argument. Until Black was caught red-handed and confessed the Healer knew Dumbledore would cling to the slim hope Black was telling the truth. Then all emotional hell would break loose.
He almost was looking forward to it, if only for pure vindication.
"I am going back into the Clinic for a few hours. I will be back late this afternoon to see Severus. We'll get him down to dinner if he's awake enough. Hopefully he can work with his 7th years tomorrow," Barnes had finished lunch and went to get his things.
Dumbledore watched the Healer. He was having his own serious doubts about Black. But what could he do? The man continued to deny harassing Snape! Unless there was proof, then he couldn't just send Black away on conjecture! With a sigh he looked at Snape.
Or could he? Snape meant a great deal to him. His best friend in many ways. But the desperate need was starting to bother him. Sometimes (Black's visits were a relief from the stress of working with Snape. Sometimes they added to it. The door clicked and he noted Barnes had left. Quietly Dumbledore moved to his desk and began to write responses to his mail.
Taking the last table by the door, Fred and George were both glad to see Professor Snape back in his lab Friday after lunch. According to Stevens and Brown, the morning session had gone smoothly. No problems at all. Of course, each group of 7th years were working on their own projects and provided much of their own materials; if any additional ingredients were needed they got them from the stores in the back of the room.
Now, an hour into the class, everything was still going calmly. Snape had been advising another group on their brew while the twins and Angelina carefully prepared a variety of ingredients. Since they were using some fresh devil's tongue, George had taken the extra precaution of having a tube of maiden's hair extract sitting out. If anyone was burned at least the antidote was close.
Fred was first to feel the air brush by him. That slightly itchy feeling that someone or something was leaning over him but not actually touching him. He glanced over at his twin, catching his eye. With a slight shake of Fred's head George's eyes widened. Someone was there!
They'd discussed the possibilities of catching the sneak. But something about Barnes' warning and Snape's reluctance to expose the person had made both brothers very cautious. Off the top of their heads they couldn't think of anyone that would cause embarrassment to Snape or the school if s/he were caught. Still, better to err and be conservative than have the whole thing backfire.
If the person was under an invisibility cloak, which was very likely, spilling or spraying any potions would not really affect them. Of course, being invisible didn't preclude tripping or hitting. Or a well placed spell.
They spent the next half-hour carefully watching for any more signs of the intruder. Angelina, in their confidences, continued to brew their potion making it look like all three were working together. Snape finally came over and leaned on their worktable, inspecting the cauldron and ingredients.
Angelina nudged Fred. The devil's tongue beaker moved with a slight jerk and spilled on the Potions Master's exposed hand. Several things happened at once: George grabbed Snape's hand before the wizard tried to cover it with his other hand thus compounding the injury. Angelina snatched up the maiden's hair and began to pour the antidote over the burning flesh.
And Fred managed to snag the invisible entity. With a feral grin and a tight hold around someone's waist, he snugged up against the enemy and waited until Angelina took the Professor over to the sink to finish cleaning the wound. George sidled up to the other side of his twin, feeling the silky texture of a cloak between them.
"Well, well, well, what have we here?" whispered Fred as he and his brother
"Tall git, aren't you," George quietly commented as he cuffed the hidden face, a hard slap. There was a low growl, but the captured prankster didn't talked.
"You're going to leave, slime ball, and not bother Professor Snape any more," Fred spat out.
"No more tripping. No more mucking about in the dungeons, no more pranks!" George declared.
"We're gonna let you go this time. But if you keep up bothering Professor Snape we will catch you again," Fred said firmly.
"Next time, you won't get off so easy," George shoved into the invisible figure, sending it crashing onto the floor. They saw a flash of shoes. Whoever it was fell hard enough to bruise. The twins listened to the sound of someone scurrying out the door.
"Get him?" Angelina asked as she moved back to her seat. Professor Snape was rummaging around his desk for a healing potion.
"Oh, yes, we got him," Fred said with a small smile.
Barnes arrived just as the last students were packing up in the labs. He moved forward to catch Snape at his desk. At least the Potions Master looked better, having slept most of Thursday and all the previous night. Fred, or was it George?, slid up next to the Healer.
"Got 'em," the boy whispered into his ear, "gave him a bit of a warning. Really a shame he tripped." Sly grin.
"Who?" Barnes asked quietly.
"Didn't see. Tall. An adult male or maybe an older student," the twin reported. Both glanced over at the Potions Master as he stood and walked towards them. Without missing a beat the student eyed the wizard carefully.
"I was just telling Dr. Barnes he needed to check your hand. That liquified devil's tongue must have burned," Weasley said. Barnes was impressed how quickly the student covered his tracks. Impressed and wary. These two boys were going to be let loose on the rest of the world after this school year?
"Here, Severus, let's go back to your office and I'll look more closely at it. Then we can straighten the shelves," the Healer said.
"George and I are free, sir, do you need some help? We have better than an hour until practice," Fred offered.
"Certainly, it's quite a jumble," Barnes accepted. Snape just looked from one to the other with a raised eyebrow.
Tugging on the Potions Master's sleeve, Barnes brought him back into the office. If anything it was more messy. Ingredients had been spilled, bottles broken. The Healer glanced at his patient.
"Temper tantrum?" he asked quietly.
"No. The room rearranges itself while I'm out," Snape commented. Barnes noted he carefully checked both chairs before they sat down. A bit jumpy. Once seated the twins arrived with a couple other older students.
"We'll start cleaning up before we sort it out," Stevens said. With a nod Barnes turned back to Snape.
"Ok, let's see it," the Healer held out his hands and immediately made clucking noises as he looked at the burn. "Maiden's hair?" he asked.
"Yes, then ice water bath," Snape said absently.
"What's wrong, Severus?" Barnes asked quietly as he opened his satchel and looked for some healing potion.
"Nothing," Snape replied. the Healer looked up at him, then send a warmth of energy through their joined hands.
"Ok," the Potions Master whispered, "the beaker jumped."
"Jumped?" Barnes asked pretending to be confused.
"It jumped. Or was picked up and dumped on my hand," Snape looked away. The students were busily engaged but he did not trust anything. He couldn't look weak. Not weak.
"Your little friend was back, then," the Healer began to to anoint the burn with potion. He felt the pain tension relax as the burn disappeared.
"Yes. But what can I do? I can't catch him. If it is my old 'friend', and he was unmasked, then he'd have to be returned, at the very least! The Headmaster would be very di-disappointed," Snape managed, without eye contact. The emotional anxiety was building quickly and Barnes sent a judicious amount of energy pulsing through.
"I know, Severus, I know. You're going to have to face Albus sometime," the doctor said quietly. "Tell him what you suspect." He watched Snape move uncomfortably, then still as the students moved around the shelves. Withdrawing his hand, the Potions Master inspected it.
"Good job, Barnes, thank you," and the Healer watched his patient slip back into his unemotional, very controlled, shell.
The weekend was very calm. Barnes did not press Snape into talking about his past, nor did he press him on his problems with Black. The twins seemed to have scared the animagus off, in any event. Black did not come up to see Dumbledore except for a few minutes on Sunday, and only then to turn in a token found down by the lake.
Well, Saturday dinner wasn't calm. The elves decided on a mexican theme. Enchiladas, chile relenos and floating piñatas decorated the great hall. The food was actually pretty good. Dodging the floating paper mache was the tricky part.
Dessert was flan, a caramelized sugar custard and candies. The custard came in the usual manner on the table tops. The candies descended from above; the piñatas all exploded sending the sweets flying all over the hall. After a moment of sheer panic, people started to laugh and finally settle down to eat.
Nurse Pomfrey had several requests for sleeping aides that night.
The group of students helping Snape met informally Sunday afternoon. All had been pleased that no pranks had been pulled over the weekend and that the Potions Master's offices were still clean. Fred and George secretly hoped the pranks had ended for good.
Monday morning found Kathryn Brown setting up ingredients with Professor Snape. The potion formula was neatly written on the board as well as the list of ingredients. First years came in and listened politely (always a plus) and then made their potions.
Fred came in and relieved Brown. He replenished supplies and checked the board. Once more everything was in order and the class went fine. Even Snape seemed to relax as lunchtime came. Goyle and Parkinson had come down to walk the professor up to lunch.
Trouble came after lunch. Arileus was in the classroom. The new potion was being written on the board while the student assembled the new set of ingredients.
"Professor Snape? Where is the ostrich liver?" the student called from the cupboards. Snape excused himself from the group of second years that were taking notes and came back to join him.
"It was on the shelf with the other bird entrails," the Potions Master said.
"Maybe I left it in my office."
"I'll check," and Arileus went to open the door. It wouldn't budge.
"I probably locked it," Snape explained, putting his hand on the doorknob and whispering an opening charm. The handle turned and the door swung opened. As it opened, Snape stepped forward and a full bucket of liquid muck fell, covering him completely in a disgusting smelling mix. Uncontrolled laughter burst out from behind the professor and student.
Then some second years screamed.
There was something or someone laughing in the free space between the students' area and the door to the teacher's office. The laughter stopped abruptly and something scurried out, bumping the hall door soundly.
Silent, Snape moved to the safety shower and thoroughly rinsed himself off as Arileus used his wand to clean up most of the disgusting mess on the floor. Once rinsed, the Professor grabbed a towel and went to calm the students. It took a while to convince them everything was fine and that he, Snape, would talk with the Headmaster about the problem.
It was a defining moment; Snape would have tolerated the pranks as long as needed without complaint to his mentor. He did not want to upset the Headmaster. Did not want to disappoint him. But now the students were being affected. They were scared by the invisible laughing creature that had attacked their professor.
So with no small amount of trepidation, Snape sent a message up to Dumbledore to speak with him after his last class. He sent his normal group of 'study buddies' up to the library and waited for the Headmaster.
Dumbledore came in, rather concerned. He had heard from Arileus about the bucket of filth that had covered Snape as well as how scared the students had been.
"Well, Severus, I hear you had a bit of excitement this afternoon," the Headmaster began.
"Yes, uh, the offal was rather pungent," Snape admitted.
"Do you have any idea who is behind this set of pranks?" Dumbledore asked, looking straight at Snape willing him not to say Sirius.
Snape knew who. But he couldn't say who without upsetting the Headmaster. On the other hand, if he didn't complain, the children might get hurt. The 'pranks' were just starting to escalate. But what if some filibuster fireworks were tossed into a cauldron? He remembered the burns he'd suffered all those years ago.
Snape would not complain for himself. He would only complain to protect his students.
"I think Sirius is behind the pranks, Headmaster," he said as calmly as he could, willing himself to stand straight as the disappointment painted Dumbledore's face. With a heavy sigh the older wizard turned away.
"Are you sure, professor? Have you proof?" the Headmaster asked, hoping for a negative response.
"I have no concrete proof, Albus," Snape admitted, his feet fidgeting all at once.
"Then I wish you wouldn't," Dumbledore began, but Snape stepped forward and placed a hand on his mentor's arm.
"I have no proof, except it's the same cycle of pranks Sirius pulled on me years ago. Don't you recall, Albus?" Snape was desperate to have the Headmaster believe.
"I recall you had something to do with some of those pranks," Dumbledore said dryly.
"But not this time, Albus. Not this time. Don't you remember? How Sirius would hide behind his words? He wouldn't actually lie, he'd just tell his version very carefully. He's not harassing me, Albus, he's pulling pranks. Have you asked Sirius specifically about pranks?" Snape was trembling now. He could tell Dumbledore wasn't pleased, that the wizard was actually getting angry.
"That was twenty years ago. Sirius has told me on several occasions he is not harassing you. He promised me he would not hurt you," Dumbledore straightened, looking straight into Snape's eyes.
"He would not lie, Severus," there was conviction in the voice and Snape looked away filled with shame.
"I think, Severus, you should possibly rethink your accusations," he stepped away to better look at his friend.
Snape knew what he had to do. He stood up straight, squaring his shoulders slightly. Just like his father told him to do. It didn't matter how badly the punishment hurt, stand and take it you selfish, insignificant brat!
"Yes, Headmaster, I certainly will put some thought into this matter," Snape answered as calmly as he possibly could.
"Good. I will leave you to it. I will see you at dinner," the Headmaster turned, almost hoping Snape would protest. Push his own resolve. But there was nothing more forthcoming. With a sigh, Dumbledore returned to his rooms.
Snape withdrew to his bedroom, locked the door and cowered under the covers of his bed.
