A Promise to be Better 31
Author: Raven Dancer
disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling except for the Drs. Barnes, Beryl and Gibbons. I receive no monetary compensation for these works.
Summary: rough ground
At two thirty in the morning the young Healer roused himself enough to check on the sleeping wizard next to him. The nerves were slowly starting to heal, but there was still a lot of damage to work on. This time they'd kept Snape asleep nearly 9 hours so Barnes rose silently, got the syringe he'd prepared and smoothly injected the somnolent man. Another 8 or 10 hours would be good. He crawled back into bed and wrapped himself around the completely limp body.
When Snape finally woke it was nearing noon. He was confused, not knowing precisely where he: was. It was warm and soft and he really, really had to go! Limbs were sluggish and heavy and he floundered in the covers trying to get up.
"Severus? Are you all right?" Jeffrey Barnes sat on the bed and managed to place a hand on the struggling shoulder.
"I, I need to go to the loo," Snape managed, trying to tamp down an unreasonable fear that was rising. The Healer could sense the urgency and decided he really needed to go now.
"I'll get you there, Severus, hold tight," the younger man levitated his charge and moved to the washroom. The multiple doses of sleep potions and relaxants made Snape too weak to attend to himself properly; Barnes helped quietly without fuss.
The surge of memories and resultant emotions were swift and devastating. Tears started as the Potions Master tried to swallow his reactions. Hands were washed and loo flushed. Snape was lost in his unhappy recollections.
"Severus? Are you ok?" Barnes tried to bring him back to the present, drying their hands.
"I'm sorry," Snape managed, trying to shake off tears.
"Severus, you've done absolutely nothing wrong!" the Healer tried to assure him. Finally he opened his arms and watched the wizard battle his fears before finally burying his face in Barnes' shoulder.
Carefully they slid down the wall and sat on the tile. Snape was gently cuddled on the Healer's lap in an attempt to keep him warmer. Barnes rocked him as he made soothing noises.
"What's wrong, Severus? You can tell me," the Healer encouraged. Snape stayed hidden, crying, in the wizard's robes. His voice was muffled, but understandable.
"My mother would put me in the closet or make me sit on the chair for punishment. I couldn't get up. Even if I had to," the Potions Master blurted out all at once. "I was never good enough for her. I'm not good enough for anyone. I'm worthless," long shuddering breaths.
Warmth flooded in, soothing frayed nerves, taking the sharp edges off emotions and memories.
"You are good enough, you are wonderful. No child, especially you, deserved the punishments you received from your mother. You are wonderful, Severus. Albus loves you, I love you. We want you. It's going to be ok, Severus," Barnes whispered softly to the distraught man, keeping the slight rocking motion going. He continued to speak quietly, comforting Snape as he had wished to the day before. At least the Potions Master was able to accept the closeness. A movement at the door caught his eye and he saw Dumbledore's concerned face.
"Severus? Do you want to go see Albus? He wants to talk with you," Barnes said calmly. The reaction was immediate as emotional walls were erected and Snape stiffened significantly. The Healer infused the rigid body with warmth and energy to no avail.
"No," Snape managed. "May I go to my rooms?"
"You need to stay here, Severus. We need to care for you here," Barnes explained carefully. Snape was slipping away from him.
"Why? I only disappoint the Headmaster. I can't spy for him, I can't be his friend. I am nothing," Snape slipped further into melancholy as he started to move away from Barnes. The Healer sighed and firmed his grip, pouring a surge of energy into Snape.
The Potions Master arched into the feed with a moan, then resettled on Barnes' lap. All his muscles tingled as nerves settled. The endorphin rush left him malleable and drowsy.
"Now, Severus, what about some breakfast?" Barnes. With a soft, shy smile Snape nodded.
Dumbledore fled. Left the doorway of the bathroom then left the tower entirely running down the stairs and out of the castle entirely not stopping until he realized it was cold and he hadn't put on his heavy cloak. He continued down towards the lake finally selecting a stone bench. This he warmed judiciously with a charm before sitting down.
*You've really messed up royal, Dumbledore* he chastised himself. *He doesn't even want to see you.* Glumly the Headmaster stared out over the lake, water around the edges starting to freeze. It was going to snow, at least it was cold enough and there were some clouds starting to dance across the sky. Muggles did better predicting the weather, though.
The Headmaster did not have long to himself. He soon heard the heavy footsteps of another person coming up the path. Probably Hagrid, given the impact noise. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that it was indeed the Groundskeeper. When the large man drew next to the bench a very warm cloak suddenly surrounded his cold upper body.
"Perfessor," Hagrid began by way of greetings. "Might cold for ya to be out without a proper cloak." He sat down on the bench tucking a warm lap robe over his and the Headmaster's legs. The warm felt delicious and the older man shuddered in appreciation.
"Yes, a bit cold at that, Hagrid," Dumbledore allowed.
"One would think ya'd be up in your rooms, sir, or about to eat lunch in the great hall," the man observed impassively. He knew that the Headmaster would not easily share his concerns. It was best to wander around in unimportant conversation until the reasons came out. If they came out. He waited patiently.
Dumbledore continued to watch the lake, water flat and reflecting the deep blue sky. Thin clouds chasing each other.
"So, how is Professor Snape doing, then?" Hagrid broached the topic carefull[y. The quick flinch let him know this was probably the problem.
"Firenze mentioned he was bad off. Was asking after 'im this morning," Hagrid continued casually.
"You spoke with Firenze?" Dumbledore asked weakly, not ready to discuss the topic of Snape.
"Oh, yes, we been speakin' most days since the tokens came. Seem to meet along the forest walks. Worries about the tokens affectin' him or one of the other creatures in the forest. Anyway," Hagrid flipped back to the original line of inquiry.
"Since he brought the Professor back he kinda feels he has the right ta know how he is. So, what should I be telling him?"
Dumbledore sat silently contemplating the weave of the lap robe. Hagrid found the lake very intriguing and scanned the edges for movement. A flight of starlings flitted by followed by a larger bird of prey.
"H:e was hurt very badly, Hagrid," the Headmaster finally spoke.
*Now for the rest of it* the big man thought.
"Hagrid, he was tortured. Multiple applications of the cruciatus curse," Dumbledore managed to get out without shaking.
"I was rememberin' that he wasn't suppose ta return to he-who-must-not-be-named," Hagrid muttered. It was a sure bet he himself would never return if he'd been Snape! It was then he noticed the Headmaster's extreme discomfort and he put a big comforting hand on the older wizard's shoulder.
"What's wrong, Headmaster?" he asked as gently as he could (which was surprisingly comforting to Dumbledore).
"He went back because of me. I didn't listen to him, I didn't help him when he came to me, Hagrid!" the words tumbled out as did a few stray tears. He quickly explained the esccalating problems with Black.
"Now he's afraid of me, tries to bolt even if Jeffrey mentions my name," Dumbledore confessed.
Hagrid knew he was out of his depth, but he also knew the confession from the Headmaster could not be ignored and he quietly thought about a response.
"So he's unsure of his place with you?" Hagrid finally asked.
"Oh, he's sure I don't love him, that I don't want him around," Dumbledore said bitterly. *Oh bother!* Hagrid thought, *well out of my ken!*
"You have to just be patient, then, sir. Just be careful 'bout him, until he's sure of you again," Hagrid offered lamely. He thought a little more. "If he's hurt bad, like you said, he's probably like sum of the strays I take in. Has to get past the worst of the pain to accept ya back. Give 'im a warm place and gentle hands. He'll forgive you, sir," Hagrid said firm{ly, sounding more assured than he really felt.
Dumbledore smiled to himself. He appreciated Hagrid trying to help him. The Groundskeeper was probably right, Snape would accept him again at some point. But would he forgive the Headmaster for choosing Black over him? He sighed remembering how he'd sided with Black and sent Snape away. Not a brilliant move under any circumstance. It had ripped his relationship with the Potions Master and had done nothing to improve the animagus's attitude or opinions.
In fact, Black had been more disdainful of Snape since his return. It was causing a growing rift between Black and his godson Harry and friend Lupin. Azkaban had worsened the animagus's hatred of Snape.
"He will, I'm sure of that now. I know Severus loves me very much," Dumbledore smiled a little, "he's like a son I never had, Hagrid. My only child in many respects."
"What then?" the man pursued, sensing there was another layer he was missing.
"Snuffles. He needs some help, I'm afraid," Dumbledore admitted. "I can't do that because I need to help Severus. That will be my primary focus." Hagrid mulled that over. He'd noticed Black was more surly today. Sharp temper. Certainly something was amiss with the animagus and the groundskeeper knew he couldn't help him.
They sat quietly a few more minutes, each wrapped in his own thoughts. A slight breeze picked up and ruffled the dead plants along the shore. Hagrid stirred first.
"Need ta eat, Headmaster. Then ta afternoon classes," Hagrid grunted, starting to stand up. Dumbledore looked up.
"I think I will join you, Hagrid. Lunch would be most welcome," the Headmaster stood, handing the warm throws back to the Groundskeeper. Together they walked back to the castle
