A Promise to be Better 35

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: gaining ground

First he ate. Chicken baked with crispy skin lightly seasoned with a little rosemary. Green beans sliced with some butter and corn similarly treated. Warm rolls. Glass of cold milk.

Then a warm, fragrant bath. With a duck. Imagine that, the Headmaster kept a yellow duck in his bathroom! The creature paddled around making strange squeaky noises while washcloths ran across his skin. Chuckles of amusement when he'd reached out to touch the duck which squeaked indignantly and smoothed its plastic feathers.

He leaned back as his hair was washed and rinsed out. No soap in his eyes, he was pleased to note. Soap always stung. He tried for the duck again; it flapped against the waves avoiding capture.

Someone tapped the duck in his direction and he was successful, carefully cupping his hands around the small creature as it squeaked and flopped about. He'd never seen such a thing. Mother never allowed any playing in the tub. In, cold water, out.

This water was warm and splashy and it had a squeaky duck in it. He released the yellow bird and watched as it paddled about. Suddenly a wet cloth covered his face and he panicked, first striking out then freezing in absolute fear when he realized he must have hit someone.

"It's ok, child. Here," said that soft voice, and the duck danced into his view again squeaking at him. The soft voice encouraged him to catch it and he forgot his fear as he reached out for the bobbing creature.

Dumbledore looked over at Barnes. The Healer did not even try to hide his smirk.

"You enjoyed that, didn't you Jeffrey," the Headmaster said mildly as he leaned back watching Snape hold the duck again.

"Well, how often does the Headmaster of Hogwarts get bopped on the nose?" the Healer said. He also was watching the Potions Master. The wizard seemed to have regressed back to childhood but was able to recognize he was with them and not with his parents. This was a good thing, Snape was happy and aware and playful for the most part.

Barnes mulled over the evening, with Malfoy's name triggering a complete meltdown then this regression to being a young child. Somehow they'd managed to retain Snape's trust this time. The Healer considered that a great stride forward.

"Severus? May I clean your face?" Barnes decided to ask first before removing the soap Dumbledore managed to get on it. Big, luminous eyes turned towards him. Just a child, a curious, trusting child.

"I am going to wipe off the soap, Severus. See? Just a towel," Barnes showed him the cloth then tentatively touched it to his cheek. Snape obediently closed his eyes and waited for the wiping to occur. Absurdly pleased with himself the young healer grinned and gently rinsed the soap away.

"Show-off," the Headmaster pretended to pout. The older man moved up to sit on the toilet and watched his friend play a little longer with the duck, enjoying the water. He was a bit concerned about this behavior, but decided it must be ok since Barnes did not seem very perturbed by it.

Soon Snape leaned back and sighed as he sank most of the way into the water. The warmth felt good. Having Albus and Jeffrey near him lulled him into feeling safe.

"Severus? Let's get dried off and dressed," Barnes suggested.

"Ok, Jeffrey," Snape agreed, "I'm turning into a prune." And he was 37 again, stepping up out of the tub and reaching for a towel. A rather shaky 37 year-old, though and he allowed both wizards to bundle him into the bedroom and help him into sleep clothes. As Barnes fixed his night potion Dumbledore dried out his hair, carefully pulling it into a simple ponytail.

He drank, caught himself licking his lips when the sweet cinnamon vanilla flavor surprised him.

"Tastes good, Jeffrey," Snape murmured sleepily. Dumbledore reached in to hold the cup as it trembled, holding it steady as the wizard took the last, long creamy sip. Licked his milky mustache away and smiled happily at his mentor.

"Thanks, Albus," the nearly asleep Snape managed. He sighed happily as Jeffrey lowered him onto his pillow, pulling covers up to his neck. A light nudge and over he went, breathing evening out in slumber.

Chairs were pulled across the room. Both were loath to leave Snape alone even in sleep. Dumbledore looked at Barnes questioningly.

"Is he all right?" the Headmaster asked.

"He's going to be. I think he's at a transition, fragile, but he's accepting us again," Barnes mused.

"I wondered about the bath," Dumbledore led the Healer.

"Oh, the regression? That's what's so encouraging. He went back to a point where he'd been sorely hurt in the past, possibly equivalent to the pain he experienced at Mr. M's hands," even now they both refrained from saying Malfoy's name aloud.

"He was playing, Albus, playing and feeling completely safe with us seeing him like that. Knowing we'd let him be that child without harming him in any way," Barnes continued.

"I noticed we've become 'Jeffrey' and 'Albus' again," Dumbledore added with a slight smile.

"Yes. Now we just have to work through the reasons why he went back to Voldemort this time," Barnes reasoned watching Dumbledore shift uncomfortably.

"Albus, we must. He needs to accept you're sorry; he needs to acknowledge you were wrong. I think that will be the hardest," Barnes said gently.

"I was spectacularly wrong," Dumbledore murmured.

"Well, true. And now I must be off. I'll leave his morning potion on your desk. My father will be by before lunch," Barnes stood and stretched. The Headmaster smiled.

"Your father is coming?" he asked. Barnes returned the grin.

"Dr. Barnes, senior member of the clinic, has determined Severus needs a more practiced hand in some facets of his healing," Jeffrey recited with a smirk. "Plus he's a sucker for the Severus's plight. Dad's strongest gifts have always been with emotional healing. Anyway, he's had the most experience with the unforgivable curses."

Dumbledore wished him a safe trip home and then sat watching Snape curled in sleep. The worst had happened but he still had his child. Rising, he went about preparing to go to bed.

Morning started rather disagreeably. Dobby woke the Headmaster at 7 am informing him several professors wanted to speak with him. He dressed, hair wanded into neatness then a quick slurp of tea before he walked out of the bedroom.

Leaving the door open he glanced across the room. Flitwick, Sinistra, Vector, and Hootch. Interesting gathering. A knock at the door and in tumbled Trelawney and McGonagall. Nearly a quorum.

The four seated professors fairly glared at the late arrivals. Dumbledore wondered what had happened but chose to go the professional route and continued around the small crowd to sit at his desk.

"Good morning," he said with just the right blend of friendliness and sternness, gaining eye contact with the group.

"I take this is not a social gathering?" he continued, noting the flits of anger on his collective staffs' faces. No one seemed disposed to speak first and he had really no idea why they were all here to begin with.

"A problem with some students? Have the Weasley twins gone and proved they can still surprise us?" Dumbledore guessed. Flitwick moved slightly.

"Actually, Headmaster Dumbledore," the charms professor began.

*uh-oh, full title, this will be nasty* Dumbledore thought.

"We were rather concerned about you," Flitwick finished and several professors nodded in agreement.

"Yes, Headmaster, you seem to have your hands fairly full, lately, with school business," Vector hedged.

"Nothing more than usual," Dumbledore sat back folding his hands carefully into his lap. Hootch casually glanced at Sinistra before returning her formidable gaze back to the Headmaster.

"Usual, Headmaster, includes enough correspondence and reports to choke the proverbial horse," the flying instructor pointed out. "With all these intrusions you've been suffering from other staff we're worried you've gotten overwhelmed"

Dumbledore did not look overwhelmed. In point of fact, he seemed quite on top of his game. Hootch shifted uncomfortably.

"I don't consider any of you intrusions," Dumbledore said mildly enough.

"Well, to be blunt, sir," Vector began, "it's more about the increased foot traffic from Hogsmeade."

*Oooh, that was oblique enough,* thought McGonagall.

"Hogsmeade?" Dumbledore played confused well.

"Sir, you've had two healers in and out of your rooms at all hours of the day and night for weeks," Flitwick observed as he leaned forward.

"Yes, if a staff member is ill, shouldn't he be in the hospital wing, at the least?" voiced Sinistra.

"Or St. Mungo's" muttered Hootch. Dumbledore simply raised his eyebrow at the lot of them. This caused the grouping of four to backpedal slightly.

"Am I to understand you find my caring for Professor Snape repugnant to you?" the Headmaster asked succinctly.

"To some of us it appears, but not all," McGonagall snipped.

"I have seen no problems," Trelawney positively oozed misty divining.

"It's not befitting for the Headmaster to have a mentally unbalanced person in his rooms," Vector hissed back.

"What if someone from the ministry visited?" Sinistra added. McGonagall made a disgusted noise as Dumbledore pulled up straighter and simply looked across the desk top at his staff.

"Professor Snape is not mentally unbalanced. The reasons I have him here are not open to discussion," Dumbledore said with some heat. Everyone shifted uncomfortably under that angry gaze.

"We don't mean to imply he is," Vector tried.

"We were concerned he was a larger burden than you should bear, given the cares of the school," Flitwick slid in carefully.

An inelegant snort came, from all people, Trelawney, as she frowned at her colleagues.

"Ridiculous," she hissed. "Severus is not a burden. And you did say he was unbalanced, Vector!"

"Ah, but you don't care for him either, I'll wager!" Hootch jumped in, quick to turn the focus to the apparently weaker divinations teacher.

"Perhaps you should take him in, Sybil," Flitwick added.

"No one is going to remove Severus from me," Dumbledore said low and dangerous.

"You will do well to drop this line of discussion, all of you!" he finished with a glare.

Dobby was suddenly rocketing about, bearing tea and breakfast to the Headmaster's table. There, with glittering eyes and his standard sneer, sat the Potions Master pouring tea.

"Good morning," Snape said as he reached for a piece of toast. McGonagall, who was still standing, moved across the room and joined him, putting her hands on his shoulders as she moved around him to sit on the far side of the table.

"Good morning, Severus," she said quietly, accepting a cup of tea and reached for a scone. Trelawney pushed up and moved to join her colleagues helping herself to breakfast.

"Do you have any legitimate concerns to discuss?" Dumbledore said in a dark tone. All four professors answered negatively and found themselves escorted out of the offices rather abruptly.

Picking up Snape's potion, Dumbledore joined the three wizards picking over the breakfast offerings. He mixed it into a cup of juice and nudged it over to the Potions Master. Without comment Snape lifted the glass and drank it then returned to his toast. He munched a moment before finally speaking.

"I really should go back to my rooms, Headmaster," he managed to say without emotion. Both witches glanced at Snape then Dumbledore.

"No, Severus, you will stay here with me," the Headmaster said just as calmly buttering his scone.

"They have a legitimate concern," Snape tried.

"Exactly when did you wander into the room?" Dumbledore countered.

"I think Frederick was referring to me as unbalanced," Snape replied in a small voice.

"That was Vector," responded Trelawney, "you're not unbalanced, Severus, merely a little overwhelmed." She selected several pieces of bacon and began to munch appreciatively.

McGonagall set down her tea and covered Snape's hand, squeezing it gently.

"You've been through an awful lot lately, Severus. You just need time to sort it all out," the witch said quietly burring her r's. Snape pulled his eyes up and looked briefly at her.

"Thank you, Minerva, Sybil, for your understanding," he said.

"No problem, Professor," Trelawney intoned, "I myself can see through all this confusion. The inner eye can be such a comfort." She raised her eyebrow and smirked at all three, causing first McGonagall then Dumbledore to snicker. A smile blossomed on Snape's face as he caught her gentle jibes at herself.

Keeping up a light conversation, mostly about the students and the upcoming holiday, Snape remained calm and focused. Dumbledore keenly appreciated the two witches' efforts to maintain the ease. The potion Barnes left began to weave its way through the Potions Master and he stifled several yawns.

"The Healers are keeping him as relaxed as possible until all the residual damage had healed," Dumbledore explained as he tugged on the sleepy wizard. It was an easy thing to lower Snape onto the lounge and cover him with warm blankets.

McGonagall followed Dumbledore, tucking in the edges as Snape sleepily regarded her.

"What? No bedtime stories about Ratty and Mole?" the Potions Master teased.

"Not bedtime, Professor," the witch smiled down watching his eyes close. She ran her hand over his forehead, gave a slight suggestive charm and he tumbled into sleep.

"How bad is it, Albus?" Trelawney asked. No more pretense about visions and inner eyes. McGonagall continued to soothe Snape as he settled deeper into the warmth and safety. With a heavy sigh Dumbledore outlined what they knew of the recent torture.

"Dr. Barnes wants him to sleep as much as possible to ensure he heals. Any stimulation to the nervous system slows down the process," the Headmaster explained.

"It's not called an unforgivable curse for nothing," Trelawney remarked, dark eyes surveying the somnolent wizard.

"If I remember correctly, Headmaster, this is the second time this year Severus has been hurt this badly?" McGonagall's sharp eyes pinned Dumbledore down.

"Yes, Minerva. He was bedridden nearly two weeks last summer," the Headmaster conceded.

"Add to that the emotional distress, that grim and his loss of self I've read in him of late," Trelawney added. She noted Dumbledore flinch and knew yet again she'd hit the target.

"Well, Sybil, we need to be off to our classrooms and you, Albus, must have a stack of paper to shuffle this morning. I'll be by after lunch during my planning period," Mcgonagall said briskly moving towards the door, Trelawney in tow.

"Have a good morning, ladies," Dumbledore nodded.