A Promise to be Better 39

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: Healings

Harry Potter woke late. He'd missed breakfast, that was for certain. He felt tired, achy, and longed to curl up under the covers and sleep through the morning. Why not? He'd taken his tests. Winter break was a week away. Turning over, the student drifted back into twisted dreams that repeated, getting more and more bizarre.

But Harry's attempt to ditch classes and sleep was soon disrupted by a rather cold, wet nose and dog's breath. Ewwww! His stomach roiled and it took great effort not to spew out the little liquid in there.

"Ger off me, Snuffles," he moaned, shoving his doggy Godfather away. The dog nudged in closer, licking the reluctant youth fully in the face.

"Look, Snuffles, I don't feel well. I just want to sleep a bit and see if it doesn't go away," Harry protested. Wresting his pillow away from the animagus he closed his eyes again. The dog barked once, then dashed across the room slamming the door shut before transforming and shoving a chair under the knob.

"Harry, you're late for class!" Black scolded, moving over to the bed.

"I took my tests last week," Harry complained, squirming on his stomach trying to get comfortable. He didn't bother to turn over, not wanting to chance the motion. "It's a skate week. Flitwick was going to teach us how to put faerie lights on trees. Why would I need to know that?"

"Skate or not you're supposed to at least eat breakfast and make the attempt," Black said trying to take away Harry's pillow. His hand brushed over the youth's neck.

"You're burning up, Harry! How long have you been sick?" the animagus said in alarm. Black now sat on the bed and moved his Godson over onto his back to get a better look. Harry was very pale, his skin hot and he was shivering even under a heavy quilt ¿and blanket. He was not pleased being moved.

"Not too long. Just this morning, I think," Harry managed.

"Well, you need to go to Madame Pomfrey," Black asserted.

"Can't I just sleep it off?" the boy whined.

"Now, Harry. NOW!" Black tried to tug him up, but his Godson just rolled into the quilts and refused to budge. Very worried, Black quickly decided he needed help. Transforming, he knocked the chair away and raced down stairs and hallways to the DADA classroom and Lupin.

The large black dog burst into the Lupin's classroom, barked and ran to his friend. Snuffles chuffed and whined then finally grabbed some of the Professor's robes in his teeth. He tugged on his robes. Lupin looked at the crazy beast and then up at his class of third years.

"Well, Professor Lupin, I think he means for you to follow," said one of the Hufflepuff students.

"I really can't just go," Lupin protested. "I have classes Snuffles!" But the dog would not let up and finally, in exasperation, the Professor had to dismiss the class.

"I'll post your homework this evening and expect you to have it completed when you return after break!" Lupin said sternly, effectively curbing the impromptu revelry that threatened to spill out of his class. In actuality he only wanted them to choose a creature and write up a parchment on them. But he made it sound much worse.

*When did I turn into a bloody grinch?* he berated himself, allowing Snuffles to drag him through corridors. Black was ruining his robes but Lupin could not get him to release them until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Something the matter with Harry?" he guessed aloud and the animagus barked sharply in confirmation. Together they ran up the stairs to the fifth year tower room and went in. Snuffles remained at the door while Lupin crossed to the youth.

"Harry?" Lupin called softly. He was answered with a low groan and two dull eyes. Oohh, this did not look good, this looked like what he'd felt before Snape had cured him. He wondered if Harry was having weird dreams but quickly pushed that thought aside.

"Remus?" Harry managed. The DADA professor quickly ran his hands over the student's face and neck. Definitely sick. Very sick. Lupin glanced over at Black. He had 'neglected' to tell the animagus about the coin.

"How long have you been sick?" Lupin asked quietly.

"Two days. I thought I'd wait and see," Harry trailed off, uncomfortable about being ill. Why had he been so stupid to pick up that coin? He had felt sick the moment he'd heard the announcement in Defense against Dark Arts class. , It had clung to him from the beginning, slowly building to nausea, then fever.

"Well, let's get you to Madame Pomfrey," Lupin said gently and began to get Harry ready to move.

"Did you tell?" Harry motioned with his eyes to his Godfather across the room.

"No, I didn't. Not yet," the professor admitted grudgingly in a low voice. How would Black react? Best get to the hospital wing and let him find out when the Headmaster came down.

Winky delivered the note requesting the Headmaster in the hospital wing. Dumbledore wondered briefly if Harry had become ill, but decided that if that student had, Lupin would have brought him directly to the office.

*Must have been some accident, then. What was the DADA class covering this week?* the Headmaster mulled over the possibilities as he got his light cloak. It was cool in the corridors with only the rooms being heated during the winter. He walked over to the couch.

Professor Snape was snugged under a tartan throw. His hair was brushed and neatly pulled into a single tail. His face was finally relaxed, the haunted, frightened look no longer clinging, even in sleep. Happily, the Potions Master had only had one horrendous nightmare the night before and even that had been easily taken care of with soft words and gentle touch.

In the three days since their rather tearful session with Dr. Barnes Snape had finally been able to fully rest. He still flinched when people came near, but did not bolt. He even accepted Dumbledore's and the Healers' touch without complaint. The potions had been working their own magic; muscles no longer twitched or spasmed.

McGonagall had even gotten into the spirit of helping the Potions Master by bringing up a potion she, herself, had brewed for his hair. The tonic cleansed the grease leaving his hair soft and untangled. It certainly made it easier to manage. There had been some joke about "Teen Witch" magazine being a useful reference source. Dumbledore was still working that one out.

"Severus?" the Headmaster waited for eyes to open. Drowsy, but amused about being caught asleep on the couch. The spark was back; Dumbledore had worried he'd never again see that brightness denoting his friend's sharp wit and mischievous streak.

"Hullo, Albus," Snape replied with a small smile, stretching decadently. No pain. No hitches. It felt gooood to really stretch at last.

"I am going down to the hospital wing; a student of Remus' has been hurt or taken ill. I want you to stay here," Dumbledore patted Snape's shoulder. Although the wizard was much better he needed reassurance and specific direction because the potions left him a little befuddled.

"Remember, stay here unless Jeffrey or I come and get you. I don't want you out of these rooms!" the Headmaster insisted, waiting for a coherent response. Snape blinked sleepily.

"Sure, Albus. I'll stay right here until you or Jeffrey come back," Snape said, bemused. He squirmed under the blanket happily. Staying right on the couch in the Headmaster's rooms was fine by him.

Dumbledore watched his friend settle back down content to drowse in the warmth. The older wizard was very pleased they'd been forced to confront the problems between them. He paused a moment to allow himself this pleasure: watching his child for a moment. Then he turned and left for the hospital wing.

Harry was finally sweating as he lay wrapped in a thin cotton blanket on the hospital bed. Pomfrey had treated him for fever first, then the nausea. When the Headmaster came in Lupin was trying to get some cool water into the sick youth.

"Remus?" Dumbledore queried, noting the large black dog near the bedside.

"Snuffles found him this morning. He seems to be quite ill," Lupin offered.

"It looks like a very bad case of the flu, Headmaster," Madame Pomfrey reported. "I haven't had a case this season; it seems a bit strange that Harry'd be so sick this quickly."

"Unfortunately, it isn't strange," Dumbledore lamented. He quickly outlined the situation with the coin Harry had picked up several days prior. Madame Pomfrey sat down on the adjacent bed.

"I can't cure that!" she exclaimed.

"It's ok, Poppy. Professor Snape knows the counter-curse," the Headmaster assured her.

"Professor Snape is still very weak, Albus," the witch commented. "Are you sure he's up to it?" She worried that the Potions Master would be too weak to actually heal Harry. Pomfrey then berated herself for not thinking of Snape first. The poor wizard had been tortured, for Ptolemy's sake

"He'll have to be, he's the only one who knows the counter-curse. I'll send for Dr. Barnes. He will want to help," Dumbledore explained, looking over at Snuffles. The large dog had his hackles up, his entire body was showing how angry he was.

"Now, Snuffles," Lupin said soothingly, "Harry will be just fine."

*Not if Snape has his way! He hates Harry,* the animagus growled to himself. *I will make damn sure the git comes down here and performs that counter-curse even if I have to drag him! I don't care if I am discovered!* he sidled up to his Godson and nuzzled his hand briefly. He sat patiently waiting until both Lupin and Dumbledore were engaged in conversation with Pomfrey, writing down the symptoms to send to Barnes. Keeping his eyes on them, the animagus slowly eased out of the room.

Being lifted by an angry man was not an ideal way to wake up. It took awhile for said angry man's words to filter in and make sense. Snape stared dully at Black wondering what in the Seven Hells was going on.

"For Merlin's sake Snape, what wrong with you?" Black roared, shaking the Potions Master. "Don't you understand anything I'm saying? Harry's been cursed and you're going to cure him! NOW, MOVE IT!." Blearily, Snape stared at the animagus.

"Cursed? Who's curse Harry? Where's Jeffrey?" the confused wizard asked.

"He picked up a galleon that'd been hexed. I used the computer thing to send for that healer, Barnes, at the clinic," Black rumbled, still holding Snape upright. *Stupid idiot can't even stand on his own,* he thought to himself.

"Galleon?" Snape was beginning to connect the dots. "It's gold. He found it outside?"

"Yessss!" hissed Black impatiently. "He found it and he's sick. MOVE!" and he shoved the Potions Master forward. The wizard promptly stumbled and fell into a heap. Between the Healer's potions and the ongoing fatigue, Snape had no energy to simply get up and go.

"Can't go. Promised Albus I'd stay," Snape muttered, starting to drag himself back to the couch. Furious, Black finally lashed out, kicking the downed man viscously in the thigh.

"Damn you Snape! You will go and take care of Harry NOW. Where the hell do you think the old man is? He's with Harry," Black snarled, bending, he yanked the shivering wizard up again and stood him on his feet.

"Can't leave. I promised Albus. Can't leave," Snape repeated, eyes slightly glazed.

"I don't care what you promised! You damned death eater! You will go now!" Black snarled. Snape shook his head and was rewarded with a hard, open-handed slap. The pain cleared some of the muzziness and Snape glared at the animagus.

"What is your problem, Black?" the cold, tight voice increased the animagus's anger.

"My problem? My problem? You, YOU are the problem! Always sneaking around where you're not wanted. You sit up here wasting Albus Dumbledore's time! You abuse the students and are the ugliest, most unpleasant bastard I've ever had the misfortune to be around," with a hard shove he sent Snape reeling back onto the couch.

*gods, I'm in deep,* Snape thought, looking up at the raging man.

"I don't know why Dumbledore persists in keeping you here. You are a disgrace and an embarrassment to the school. A known death eater! You disgusting piece of FILTH! To think you've been around my Godson these past five years making his life a living hell!" Black continued to verbally blast Snape. Another fully enraged slap caught the ill wizard full on the left side of the face, slamming him onto his side.

*Ok, that last bit has some merit," Snape thought to himself with a mental wince. *But Albus loves me,* he reassured himself. Suddenly he was being pulled upwards again, this time by his hair.

"I will not go anywhere," Snape hissed angrily, unable to defend himself. "I will not leave until Albus comes."

"Damn you, you will!" Black asserted angrily then picked the wizard up bodily and attempted to carry him. Snape struggled, shoving back as hard as he could (which at the moment wasn't very hard). A bitter, taunting laugh erupted from the animagus.

"Is that all you've got, you fucking bastard? Here, let me show you how a real man fights!" and Black swung Snape up once more by his tied back hair and slammed his fist into the wizard's jaw. A second blow landed squarely in the Potions Master's stomach, harshly expelling the air from Snape's lungs as he dropped like a stone to the floor.

"NOW YOU ARE GOING TO FIX HARRY!" Black screamed, pulling Snape up yet again and throwing the crumpled man over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. As he started to step toward the door it flew open and the Headmaster fiercely strode in. The hard blue eyes moved from the animagus to the precious burden callously tossed over0 his shoulder.

"SIRIUS BLACK, PUT SEVERUS DOWN!" Dumbledore roared.

"Down? You want him down?" Black snarled, too caught up in his own rage to take full notice of the Headmaster's wrath. He hurled Snape as hard as he could, face down. The limp body struck the coffee table with a sickening *thud*, breaking the table with a resounding crack. Still enraged, the animagus pulled his fist back in the air to strike yet another blow. "Worthless piece of..." Black never had a chance to finish.

Later, Lupin said the feeling of summative power was overwhelming, that Albus Dumbledore radiated, his eyes full of fury and fire. There was no wand, there was no time for a wand. Only time to react, to save his own.

"LEAVE MY CHILD ALONE!" Dumbledore thundered, his voice shaking the entire room. With a sweep of his arm the Headmaster sent Black flying across the room over Snape and the coffee table. The animagus continued in air until he slammed into the bookcase, crashing hard enough to knock shelves off. Books and brick-a-brack exploded littering the floor and the now unconscious Black with debris.

Lupin blinked and there was the Headmaster, on his knees, gently touching Snape's body draped over the smashed table. The DADA professor swore he never saw Dumbledore walk over there. He was just there.

"Severus? Severus?" the quaver in the older wizard's voice was pronounced. "Child, oh my child! What has he done to you?" Dumbledore lowered his head against the fallen man's shoulder trying to contain his fear and anger.

"I think I broke your table, Albus," came the weak reply.

"Severus?" the Headmaster asked, inUcredulous.

"Hmmmm?" was all the answer he received. Lupin had by this point rounded the table and knelt next to Dumbledore.

"What hurts, child? Can you move?" the older wizard asked quickly. It was a difficult question to answer. Snape reflected behind eyes squeezed shut.

"Everything," the fallen wizard finally answered. As for the part about moving, Snape tried ineffectively to push up, recollapsing on the shattered wooden slab.

"My gods, Albus! What happened?"

Jeffrey Barnes moved quickly through the door followed by his father. He swiftly slipped down next to his patient, opposite Lupin and Dumbledore. Putting his hands immediately on Snape's back he began scanning for internal injuries.

"We received a strange message regarding Harry," James said as he moved further in. He looked across the room and noted the litmp body of Black on the floor partially covered with books, paper and shattered knick-knacks. The older healer moved over to the animagus and began scanning the fallen man.

"Doesn't seem to have broken anything. No internal bleeding," Jeffrey said, then retracted the statement. "Wait a moment."

Two sets of eyes locked on the younger Healer as he concentrated on his patient. James Barnes glanced up from tending to Black.

"Jeffy?" he inquired carefully.

"Just a swelling," Jeffrey said dismissively. He remained completely focused on his healing. A long moment passed before the younger Barnes relaxed slightly. "Let's see about moving you somewhere more comfortable, Severus."

"It's ok, I like it here," Snape said quickly. He'd hug the table to show how much he liked it if he could. Just thinking about moving hurt. Jeffrey simply sent a stream of energy in, releasing some endorphins and waiting until his patient's breathing evened out slightly. Then the Potions Master was carefully levitated, turned face up, and placed on the lounge.

Dumbledore moved with his friend, pulling a chair as close as possible. Lupin stood, stepping behind the Headmaster. The DADA professor put a gentle hand on the older wizard's shoulder offering comfort.

"gods," the Headmaster murmured, ghosting a hand over the bruise blossoming on Snape's jaw. Lupin surreptitiously moved his other hand to the opposite shoulder and squeezed soothingly.

The young Healer busied himself unclothing his patient and probing gently all the tender spots. The Potions Master whimpered as Barnes continued, thoroughly prodding a very sore stomach. There was lots of soft tissue damage, but no unusual swellings to be found in the abdomen. Some abrasions on the chest from the destroyed coffee table needed tending.

The hurt wizard tried to push the inquisitive hands away, the additional pain now causing tears to pool then stream slowly down his cheeks. Dumbledore carefully caught both of the struggling Snape's hands, soothing them with his own. Blinking, the prone wizard looked up at his friend, his savior. He sighed in relief.

"What happened to Harry?" Snape managed. Although nothing was actually broken, his stomach ached, his jaw and leg throbbed. Some remnants of the coffee table seemed lodged in his skin near his left shoulder. The Healer tugged them out and quickly soothed the area when his patient jerked.

"He's been hexed, Severus. We knew he'd picked up a stray coin earlier this week and carried it around for two days. We just didn't know if it was cursed or not," Dumbledore explained softly.

"How long? What are the symptoms?" the ill wizard pursued. Jeffrey clucked over the huge bruise rising on the right upper thigh and began to palpitate it fully. Snape drew in a sharp, shuddering breath.

"Less than a week. He's been queasy for a couple days though. Last night his illness escalated: high fever, nausea, dehydration, diarrhea. Very sick," Lupin filled Snape in.

"You have to help him Snape!" Black's voice cut in. The animagus had regained consciousness and was now sitting up as Dr. James finished his examination. Snape could hear the desperation and absolute fear in his enemy's voice.

"Of course I'm going to help him, Black. I'm not the heartless bastard you've come to scorn and hate." Snape said gritting his teeth as Barnes discovered another spot to torture.

"You are not doing anything until I've checked you out fully," Jeffrey said with a protective growl. The healer continued to scan, poking, fixing small hurts. A third set of hands touched the Potions Master's face and shoulders as James began to assist his son.

Snape moaned in relief as the second Healer's stream began filling his aching body with warmth. Jeffrey had not been able to relieve the continuous pain while he patched up the "minor" problems he discovered as he moved over his patient's body. The concentrated teamwork overwhelmed the injured wizard and he slipped into unconsciousness.

"Sirius will be fine," Dr. James said in a clipped tone. "Scrapes, wrenched back. Couple days rest and a hot bath or two." Jeffrey nodded indifferently. He was lost in Snape and could care less about anything else, especially the animagus.

Black skirted around the scene trembling. He'd lost it. He'd lost everything. He'd blown up and nearly killed the only person who could save his Harry. What had he been thinking? Well, that was part of the problem right there, wasn't it? His head was spinning, but not from hitting the bookcase.

Dumbledore ignored him. Lupin turned his eyes away, ashamed. Black was too shaken to transform and sat in a chair at the table, letting his head sink down into his arms. His back ached and he his head throbbed. James Barnes spared him a glance but did not go to him. There was nothing that required immediate attention and the Healer felt the pain would be quite enlightening.