D/C # 1 – Non Con, Mpreg. Angst and unhappiness abounds. Not my characters that I'm abusing.
A/N # 1 - Thanks to Linze and Excessively Perky for ideas and suggestions.
Synopsis: Severus has escaped from Hogwarts using the Knight Bus.
Barely managing to keep his stomach in check until he got to the Leaky Cauldron, Severus gratefully escaped alive from the insane asylum on wheels better known to the Wizarding World as the Knight Bus.
"No tip?" Stan hopefully questioned, his hand outstretched in a universal gesture.
"Never play leapfrog with a unicorn. It could prove exceedingly painful and could require extensive corrective surgery," Severus dutifully informed the conductor.
His tip delivered, Severus abruptly walked away from the Knight Bus and its rather perplexed Conductor, all the while carefully caressing his wand that he had hidden. The wand was fully powered, and he needed to be careful about recklessly squandering its magical energy. Fortunately, it was rather late, and everyone was tucked away in their warm beds, so it was unlikely that anyone saw his arrival. Though knowing Dumbledore's contacts, odds were quite high that he had already been spotted and his escape made known to the Head Master.
Severus accepted the bitter fact that he'd have to use public Muggle transportation as part of his escape from Hogwarts. He'd utilize the Tube to get to Victoria Tube Station so he could then catch a Muggle bus… a BUS for the love of all that was magical… in order to get to Spinners End. It was crucial that he fade into the background, and so he carefully concentrated to produce a malleable Disillusionment spell. People would see him, but not notice him, which was exactly what one needed when one was dressed like a one-armed extra who had wandered off from the latest Jane Austen film.
He had purposely lied to Draco that he was returning to the Dark Lord, which why he had packed all his clothes from Albus. It would have been far easier to escape with only the clothes on his back, but Draco would have wondered about his wardrobe. One didn't present oneself to the Dark Lord wearing travel stained clothes. That simply wouldn't be proper!
Severus hated using the Tube; it was claustrophobic, noisy and smelly. Plus it was downright unnatural to ride underground in a metal tube that sped along tracks, instead of flying through the air on a broom. But Tobias had insisted during one of his feeble attempts at producing a 'normal' son, that Severus know how to use the Tube. As he settled into a seat on the Tube, Severus Snape regretfully thanked the bastard that raised him, who in between his bouts of alcoholism, had sadistically attempted to beat him into a proper Muggle. If it wasn't for Tobias Snape, he'd be absolutely defenseless in the Muggle world. Fortunately, he knew far more about Muggles then even the great sainted Albus Dumbledore, plus no Death Eater would ever admit to comprehending an Underground schedule.
Then again, the wild eyed Bellatrix LeStrange would fit in nicely with the Tube irregulars, beggars and huskers.
His game plan was simple.
First, Spinners End for Muggle clothes, some currency and provisions that he had hidden for emergencies such as this, and perhaps a brief nap. Then he'd return to Diagon Alley for an accounting of his finances. Thanks to his accrued sick time, he had been drawing a salary of some sort during the last few months. With that, he'd be current on the bills for his mother's stay at the St. Helga's Home for the Magically Feeble. Then Severus would go to a hole in the wall, take every last pence from his Muggle bank account and then he'd run like the very hounds of hell were after him.
Severus knew that in the end, he'd have to crawl back to Albus Dumbledore, tail between his legs to ensure the survival of the sprog, but at least he'd have a few months of Dumbledore-Voldemort-Potter-Black free peace.
He was exhausted and the rhythm of the train running along the tracks was close to lulling him to sleep. It would be dangerous to fall asleep on the Tube, but Severus was extremely fatigued, barely able to keep his eyes open. Severus would not have been able to stop himself from dropping off entirely if it weren't for the fact he was positively shaking with the cold. His head was beginning to nod however, and it was as his eyes were drifting shut that he spotted the map of the Underground opposite him.
The map… it was important… so utterly significant…
"Dumbledore has a scar in the shape of the Underground. He's called it right useful at times!" his subconscious screamed that warning, and Severus woke completely.
What was he thinking? He couldn't spend the night at Spinners End as that would be the first place the Head Master would look for him. He needed to be in and out quickly, leaving all of Dumbledore's fine clothes at his summer home. It would be sheer foolishness for him to keep any of the clothes, as no doubt Albus had Charmed Locator Spells onto everything he had been given, even down to his pants.
Albus would be able to find him through his clothes which meant he'd have to get rid of the emerald green dressing gown. It wasn't as though he'd be able to wear it on the street when he was panhandling, but it had been a gift from the Head Master and it had been so warm. It would be better if he just took all of the clothes, the bribes, the enticements to behave, the sweeteners laced with rat poisoning from the Head Master and put them all into a refuse bin.
But the dressing gown….
It was only a bloody dressing gown, but Severus remembered all too well how overwhelmed he had been by Albus' gift. He had known himself to be an utter fool, desperate for any type of reassurance and the sheer intimacy of the gift had affected Severus deeply.
The robe was warm, and soft to touch. It felt almost as if Albus' arms were around him, protecting him and the sprogling. His right hand kept compulsively caressing the fabric while his mind was unable to understand why Albus had given him such a gift.
"I specifically asked that they cut the sleeves a little large. I didn't want the left sleeve to be too tight," Albus explained. "It should be warm. You feel the cold so easily that I thought you might like it."
He should burn the damn thing, and while he was at it, he should have brought Phineas St. Clare's "Guide to Advanced Potions for the Clever Practitioner" to add to his funeral pyre. But he couldn't bring himself to damage the book, and he had left it in his sickroom.
Damn it, all those year he had desperately wanted to devour St. Clare's tome and once he finally had it in his hand, he had been too ill to do much more than marvel at the fact that he now possessed a personal copy.
I had mentioned to you once, so many years ago, that I was interested in a copy. You found it for me, bought me warm clothes because you knew I feel the cold and then you promised to Bond me.
Then it all changed. What did I do to make you change your mind? How did I anger you? Were you sickened because I so desperately wanted to share your bed?
It was the only way I believed that I could serve you still!
You couldn't even be bothered to tell me that our Bonding was canceled. No, you sent the loyal Minerva to inform me that you wished me dead. I foolishly hoped that you cared, but it was just a Dumbledore ploy to gain custody of the sprog.
Perhaps, you thought it was a kindness; that the compassionate Minerva would soften the painful blow with her empathy.
I understand, Head Master, why you decided not to bond me. I have no value to you. I can't teach Potions or Defense. I can't spy for you.
Those are what kept me from the eternal bliss of the Dementor's Kiss.
Unfortunately I can't be Kissed, not while the sprog is on board as they find baby soul particularly scrumptious. But the Dark Lord will be furious, as the Head Master was to Bond me. He'll hurt me for failing… he'll hurt the sprog.
I should have stayed at Hogwarts. It would be safer for the sprog, as the Dark Lord would be limited in what he could do to me.
But… I can't stay there, knowing that when I'm dead, Head Master, you'll overwhelm the innocent sprog with attention and affection. She'll love you so much, and you'll keep the shame of her true parentage from her. She'll be raised Gryffindor proud, sneering down upon the Slytherins…
You'll never tell her about the Slytherin who loved her so much that he was willing to die for her.
I desire time alone with her. No Daddy, no Minerva, no Poppy… Just the two of us. I deserve that much!
I should give you a proper name, except Albus will change it when he has you all for his own. But I can't keep calling you sprog!
Therefore, I name you Ariana, for the Head Master's sister, a true innocent. I never met her, Ari; do not be jealous. You are the only true innocent I have ever known.
The Tube rumbled to a halt, and with a harsh blare of noise, announced its current location.
It was his stop. Severus searched within himself, and he could go no further, physically, mentally or emotionally. But for Ari's sake, he staggered to his feet, and he lurched out the door into the Tube station.
Poppy Pomfrey was having a horrific night; little suspecting that it would soon get much, much worse. Some soft of bug had erupted among the Hufflepuffs and an exploding cauldron had taken out part of the fifth year Ravenclaws during an extra credit assignment, plus the Gryffindor house claimed that there had an accident of some sort during a Quidditch practice. In her professional mind that explanation was utter bunk, unless practice had evolved into a spontaneous brawl with a few hexes thrown in for good measure. Just when she had been close to sorting everything out, a hemorrhaging Millicent Bullstrode had been escorted into the Infirmary by a concerned Draco Malfoy.
Millicent had been bleeding, and rather excessively so, from a wound Poppy believed to be self-inflicted. It had taken several Blood Replenishing Potions and a great deal of direct pressure before the wound had closed and the girl's blood had stopped gushing from her body. Her treatment accomplished, Draco had helped a wan Millicent leave the infirmary, but Poppy had already decided that she'd need to talk to Severus about Millicent.
Severus had taken his role of Head of Slytherin Head seriously and he always knew what was happening with his Slytherin students. He'd know if Millicent was prone to cutting. The girl had denied the accusations, but that had been a nasty, nasty wound.
Tomorrow, Poppy decided. That delicate conversation would have to wait until tomorrow when she'd be able to handle it with some finesse. Right now, her aching head was pounding, and the infirmary was blessedly empty except for Severus. Through decades of hard won experience, she had managed to create quick order out of the seeming chaos, and every student had been medicated, charmed, healed back to health and discharged back to their dorms within a matter of hours. Carefully, she checked in her only patient. From the doorway of his room Poppy saw that he was deeply asleep and she decided not to risk disturbing Severus further. With Albus no longer stalking Snape and the administration of a few safe potions, Severus was now sleeping most of the day and night. Rest was what his body needed in abundance to heal and his soul mend.
Hopefully, Severus would be strong enough then to deal with Hurricane Albus.
To be fair, Poppy couldn't truly blame Albus for being so… damn Albusy… that was the only way to describe how Albus had acted until Minerva had laid down the law.
It seemed that she had barely crawled into her bed, when a House Elf was not so gently waking her with a shrill cry.
"Mistress Poppy! Amiee is sorry to wake yous, but Amiee needs yous!"
When the House Elf told her there was a problem in Severus' room, she had thought that perhaps that he had a rough night. Instead to her horror, she found a rapidly disintegrating human shaped mess in Severus' bed.
"Get Filius here immediately. Then you're to wake Minerva and get her here." Then, as an afterthought, she decided that Albus needed to be made aware of the situation. "After Minerva is informed, you need contact the Head Master, and notify him that his presence is requested here. They are the only ones to be told."
Hesitantly, she pulled the covers down from the decaying mass, and exposed the remains. Then she began to cast intricate spells to determine how Severus had died. What had happened? What type of curse would do this?
"I agree with you completely," Filius assured the confused Mediwitch after he had judiciously poked, prodded and cast numerous magical spells on the remains. He left Severus' sickroom and then closed the door behind him. "I need to wash my hands, please."
After he had done so, the two of them joined Albus and Minerva who were already stationed in Poppy's private office.
"What ever that might have been, it wasn't Severus. It was a magical simulacrum, and it's a NEWT level charm. Someone put it in his bed, and Severus is no longer on the grounds of Hogwarts," Filius stated. "In my professional opinion, the spell wasn't cast correctly, as the simulacrum normally takes much longer to decompose."
"Then it's a real fear that he's been abducted once again," Minerva inserted. She uncertainly glanced at Albus, who was incongruously mute. He had Severus' sweater in his hands, and he was intently staring at it as though it would give him answers.
"It certainly seems likely as it's already happened to him once, but let us not jump to conclusions. Poppy, I understand that last night you were rather busy with an assortment of walking wounded. Can you tell us exactly who you saw and when?" Filius questioned.
Poppy dutifully reported every patient she had seen and treated. For good measure, she included every visitor and House Elf in her testimony. There was a long silence after she finished.
"Albus?" Minerva deliberately prompted the Head Master when it became obvious that everyone was expecting him to take charge.
"He'll be cold," Albus softly whispered. His tone was oddly uncertain.
"I beg your pardon?" Minerva was mystified by Albus' nonsensical answer. "He'll be cold?"
"Severus didn't take his sweater. I Charmed it so it would always fit him and keep him warm." Albus quietly explained. "He assured me that he liked it, yet he didn't take it. It's February, and Severus doesn't have a sweater. Severus feels the cold so easily. He'll be cold. Why didn't he take his sweater?"
"Albus, we must face the strong possibility that Severus was abducted," Minerva not so gently reminded Albus, even as she wondered why the older wizard was acting so bloody daft.
Filius tilted his head toward Albus and then gave a quick shake of his head.
"You'll need to handle this," mouthed Filius. "He's no good to us right now."
"I'll call the Order together," Minerva decided, after mustering her wits and becoming the very epitome of calm, efficient leadership. "After we establish exactly what has happened - if he was abducted and how he was removed from Hogwarts."
"You're correct, Minerva. We need to inform the Order, but Severus wasn't abducted, he ran," Albus inserted. "With help from a bleeding Millicent and a more than obliging Draco. We all know from whom he was fleeing; the only question is to whom did he run?"
"Albus, I highly doubt that Severus decided to run back to He Who Planned All This Mayhem for more abuse," Filius protested.
"He might have, if he believed that Voldemort was the safest of his rather limited options," Albus protested.
"I'll talk to Draco and Millicent," Poppy decided. "If this is a Slytherin plot, they might believe me when I tell them how sick Severus truly is. They won't believe the Head Master or the Gryffindor Head."
"I'd suggest you'd include Horace," Minerva suggested. "He is their Head of House."
They all agreed with their plan, except for a very subdued Albus who merely nodded his head in agreement.
Draco Malfoy kept his composure when he and Millicent were requested to see their House Head. Millicent, on the other hand, was apprehensive, and Draco knew that she'd spill her guts. Millicent was the weak link in Slytherin House.
"You're not to admit to anything, Millicent," he warned her. "You were the one that came to me and asked for advice. After speaking with my mother, she decided that we needed to help Professor Snape escape from the Head Master. There's no way they can prove that we had anything to do with his disappearance. "
"What if the Head Master is with him?" Millicent's former level of apprehension skyrocketed to an overwhelming fear. "Even if we don't admit to anything, he might just decide to expel us just because he can! Slughorn won't defend us, as he can't be bothered. He's the Head Master's man, after all."
"Mother will give me a private tutor. No doubt it will be a better education then this place. You can also be quite sure that it will be a proper instructor as Mother would never allow a werewolf to instruct me," Draco scoffed.
"My mum can't afford a private tutor!" Millicent softly protested.
Draco was thisclose to mocking the fearful Millicent by reminding her that her widowed mum could barely scrape enough knuts together to get her daughter a proper robe, but Millie was Slytherin House. If there was one adage that Severus Snape instilled into his students, it was that Slytherins stuck together, as no one else would defend them. "If you get expelled for helping Professor Snape, I'm quite sure my mother will arrange for you to be tutored."
The platinum haired Slytherin was rewarded for his largesse with a rare smile from Millicent. "Follow my lead," he instructed. "We know nothing. You were hurt, and I merely visited the Professor while you were being treated."
"I'm not smart like you," she confessed. "I'll do whatever you want."
To Millicent's relief, the Head Master wasn't involved with their discussion. No, instead it was Madam Pomfrey, but a different side of the Mediwitch. For one thing, she wasn't wearing her nurse's cap. Instead, her long silvery hair was neatly pulled back in a braid and she looked like a normal person. She was sitting in a chair, sipping a cuppa when he and Millicent arrived.
"Please sit down," Slughorn insisted. "We need to have a serious conversation with the two of you, and I hope you both understand our dire need for candor."
"Absolutely," Draco agreed, while Millicent softly parroted him.
"Very well then. Last night, Millicent, Mr. Malfoy was kind enough to escort you to the infirmary after hours. Madam Pomfrey informed me that she believed your injury to be self-inflicted, was it?" Horace's voice was surprisingly soft.
"No, I tripped and hurt myself," Millicent softly explained, refusing to meet Slughorn's concerned glance. "I'm very clumsy. I'm always getting hurt."
"Millicent? Please be honest with me," Horace repeated. His voice was full of distress. "It seems that you have a long history of visits to the Infirmary with suspicious wounds."
Millicent nodded her head once, and repeated the fact that she was very clumsy as she was always in a rush.
"I need to slow down," she insisted. Her eyes were still downcast, and she was staring at the floor.
"I've never found you clumsy in Potions," Horace informed her. "I always found your work very neat and precise. Poppy, you should see the way she cuts her roots, even you'd be happy with their consistency. Every root perfectly sized, every powder evenly ground. Millicent, medicinal potions ingredients need to be consistent, you understand. It's a rare talent that you have, Millicent, you should be proud of your skill."
He reached for Millicent's shoulder and gave it a friendly, reassuring squeeze.
The mediwitch nodded her head once in approval. "It is difficult to find someone willing to be that precise with potion ingredients. Severus often positively remarked on your skill to me, Millicent. He believes that you are quite talented."
Millicent had a rare blush of pleasure on her face, and Draco mentally groaned. Horace Slughorn was a master manipulator, and he knew exactly how to gain a wary Millicent's trust. No one ever gave Millicent compliments.
"Millicent, last night's injury was the worst of all the injuries you have suffered. You can protest that it was an accident, but the angle of the wound, the depth, the penetration and the severity of the wound refutes that idea. Millicent, it must have hurt you a great deal last night to inflict that on yourself," Poppy's voice was still soothing, though Draco could hear her concern.
Draco had to admit that he was uneasy at what he was hearing, as he realized that the Professor, if he had been healthy, would have heartily disapproved of the distraction responsible for his escape. When Millicent had suggested that she get Draco into the infirmary after visiting hours by hurting herself, he never bothered to find out much more than that. How she had hurt herself in order for them to gain access to the infirmary didn't factor into his equations until now. There had been a great deal of blood, Draco uneasily remembered, which a rather washed out Millicent had dismissed only as a necessary part of the needed distraction.
"Very well then. Draco, please step outside," Horace politely requested. "Millicent, we'll talk to you first. This should be only ten minutes or so therefore I'll appreciate you waiting, Draco."
Millicent still stuck with her story, doggedly insisting that she had accidentally hurt herself and Poppy gently mentioned, "You've been visiting Professor Snape a great deal lately, Millicent."
"He was my favorite teacher! Are you surprised that students might like Professor Snape?" Millicent's angry outburst was unexpected.
"No, no, no. Not at all. You've been quite helpful with him, and I appreciate it. Horace, Millicent often visits during her free periods to see if Severus needs anything. She is quite helpful in caring for him."
"Yes, Millicent might be an ideal candidate if you ever wish to take on a student assistant," Horace suggested.
"Now, another reason why I wanted to talk to you is so that you understand Severus' current medical regime and why he was still in the infirmary last night. Severus is truly ill, and he is need of constant medical care. His magical resources are dangerously depleted and his physical health is rather shaky," Poppy carefully explained. "This morning, I discovered that Severus has left Hogwarts. Did either of you help him leave? Did you deliberately cut yourself in order to create a distraction so he could escape?"
The Slytherin remained silent, and Horace gently asked the same question once more.
Silence was his reward.
"Millicent, you must believe us. We want to help Severus. Won't you assist us in helping him? He shouldn't be away from his friends at Hogwarts now," Horace stated. "I know I speak for the Head Master and my fellow instructors when I assure you that we want to help Severus. Did you help him leave?"
Millicent quietly snickered at Horace's heartfelt sincerity. The Potions Master pounced on his student's mocking derision.
"I am being quite serious, Millicent. Why don't you believe me?"
She shook her head, and refused to speak.
Horace began to press the issue, repeatedly insisting that the Hogwarts Staff was quite concerned about Severus. Finally, Millicent had enough.
"Professor Snape was afraid, that's why I helped him leave," Millicent proudly informed Slughorn. The suspicious student who rarely looked eye to eye to any Hogwarts instructor easily met his glance. "If you cared for him as much as you claimed, you would have helped him leave. Professor Snape taught us that Slytherins always stick together."
"He was terrified?" Poppy gently questioned. "Please tell me more, Millicent."
"You took care of him; you must have heard him cry out during his nightmares. He pleaded for someone to protect him. Professor Snape claimed he lost his arm on a Terror Tour. We checked, you know, and there wasn't a Terror Tour when Professor Snape was injured. We Slytherins know that Professor Snape wouldn't have just left us like he did. The only reason he'd lie to us about his arm was because he was terrified of who hurt him. There's only one reasonable explanation why he wouldn't wait to say goodbye to us before he supposedly resigned. He only 'resigned' after he had been maimed."
The Slytherin's dark brown eyes were apprehensive as she realized that she had said too much to the wrong people.
"Who hurt him?" Slughorn questioned. "Tell me, so I know that you've got the correct information."
"We all know who hurt him," Millicent insisted, the words spilling from her in spite of her best efforts to prevent them from escaping."I can only guess how scared Professor Snape was after he'd visit him because of his nightmares. That's why Slytherin House started visiting the Professor once we knew where he was, as that way, he wasn't alone and undefended when the Head Master visited him. Once we started keeping an eye on the Professor, he stopped harassing the Professor."
There was a long pause, and then Slughorn began to talk.
"Millicent, the Head Master didn't hurt Severus," Horace explained.
"Naturally," Millicent quickly agreed. But her voice held more than a smidgeon of skepticism.
"Severus is quite ill, Millicent. Without proper medical care he will die," Poppy explained. "I know this won't matter much to you, but I was a Ravenclaw when I was a student, but I will try to explain to you how imperative it is that Severus be found. Millicent, will you please believe me when I assure you that the Head Master is attempting to help Severus?"
Her sincerity caused Millicent to mockingly laugh.
"He told us that Professor Snape resigned," Millicent stridently protested. "The Professor was in the Infirmary all that time, and we believed that he had abandoned us! We should have known that the Professor wouldn't have done that! We should have trusted Professor Snape more! We know he must have fought with you and the Head Master before he was permitted to talk to us!"
"You created the distraction and Draco got him out of the Infirmary," Slughorn decided. "Very well, Millicent. You're dismissed."
"Are you going to tell him what I said?" Her voice was uneasy. "Please don't, as he'll expel me. He doesn't like us Snakes. That's the main reason why he got rid of the Professor, you know. The Professor was the only one that ever defended us. He would stand up to him for us. You're Dumbledore's man, as you replaced Professor Snape. You'll tell him that I said!"
"Don't worry, he'll never know," Horace assured her.
"You're not lying, are you?" Millicent plaintively requested. "I know that you won't defend me like the Professor would. I'm not one of your Slugs. I'm nobody, and Professor Snape was the only Instructor that ever cared about me."
Deliberately, Horace put his hand on her shoulder and he squeezed.
"I promise you, Millicent, I will not let the Head Master expel you," Horace softly assured the student. "You are a fine example of Slytherin loyalty. You were right to help Severus, but we really need to find him. Do you have any idea where he's gone? What else did you do to help Severus?"
"No, I just told Draco how scared the Professor was, and how we needed to help him escape from the Head Master. Draco agreed that it was our turn to help him, and he planned everything. We took a collection, so he has roughly eighty seven galleons plus a handful of Muggle money. I thought that Muggle money might prove helpful in his escape."
"Go, Millicent, and you will forget this conversation. In fact, you'll remember that you've been quite taciturn, and succeeded in vexing the two of us by refusing to give us any concrete information," Horace advised her. "Have Draco come in."
Millicent seemed confused after their conversation ended. Poppy then reminded Millicent that she would require follow up care on her wound.
"I hope that you'll trust me enough to explain how you truly obtained that wound on your arm," Poppy stated. "I'll see you tomorrow, Millicent."
Millicent left the room and Poppy arched one eyebrow in silent condemnation over Horace's tactics.
"Yes, I bespelled the girl. We need information on Severus, do we not? The more truthful the information, the better it will be, no matter how painful. After Draco is interviewed and refuses to admit to anything, you must find Albus and inform him of the details. I don't dare try what I did on Millicent on Malfoy, as no doubt his aunt has Warded him. Albus especially needs to know that Slytherin House believes him the reason behind Severus' injuries. I'll work on serious damage control in my House. I'm getting old and sloppy; I should have realized how the students would react, but Albus' known anti-Slytherinism has added some very dark undertones…" Horace hissed. "Damn it, I warned Albus that I should have stayed retired!"
The door to his suite opened, and Horace growled.
"Come in, come in. Hopefully you will prove more informative than Millicent. She refused to admit to anything."
Draco quickly hid his relieved smile, but not fast enough. Both Horace and Poppy saw his quick smile and duly noted it.
Albus Dumbledore was a brave man. He had defeated a former lover in a supernatural battle that was still currently dissected by magical scholars due to the sheer strength of the combatants. Therefore, he would attempt to face Poppy's report with the same dignity and strength of character that he had once faced Grindelwald. Now, as then, he had mishandled the situation, and he needed to face the consequences.
To give Albus credit, he attempted to be Gryffindor courageous but Dumbledore failed horribly. He winced when he heard Poppy's scathing report because he heard the truth in her tone.
"The Slytherin House holds you as responsible for the current situation; you decided it was time to replace Severus with a more malleable Instructor. It is a firmly held conviction among our Snakes that an injured Severus was hidden in the infirmary since he was removed as an Instructor. It also seems that Millicent is quite observant, and she figured out who was heavily featured in Severus' nightmares. She in turn told our Snakes who were quite determined to protect the professor they deemed as their protector. The Slytherins are quite proud of themselves, as they believe that once they mobilized to guard Severus in his sickroom, you stopped harassing Severus."
He nodded, and then spoke. "Horace?"
"Attempting to do some damage control among the Slytherin, but he was told in no uncertain terms that the House doesn't trust him. He's viewed as Dumbledore's Man and someone who is unlikely to put forth any effort to protect them from you."
"Any idea where Severus might be?" Minerva inserted.
"No, they gave him a collection of eighty seven galleons and some muggle money to help in his escape."
"Eight seven galleons? A House's most generous donation of their Hogsmeade weekend's funds." Albus softly commented. "A most munificent gift yet he won't get far on that. He'll need to go to the bank for additional funds. Thank you for your help, Poppy. Your information will prove quite helpful in locating Severus."
"Albus… I'd like to take Millicent under my wing for a bit. She has a tendency of the oddest injuries, and this last incident confirmed my dark suspicions that she's prone to cutting. The wound was pretty bad, Albus," Poppy admitted. "She did it willingly, Albus! That's what frightens me the most. Millicent believed that Severus was the only Instructor who cared for her, and she was willing to injure herself for him."
"Cutting," Albus echoed in a very soft tone. "Do what you see fit to help her. Perhaps you might suggest to Filius that he takes an interest in her? On a physical scale, he's unlikely to frighten her, and you might have difficulties as you're female. I believe it's just her mother and her, and Millicent's need to cut might reflect a troubled relationship with her mother."
Poppy nodded her head and then left.
"Minerva, if Slytherin House believes that I deliberately removed Severus from his position, that means Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff do also. That's bad enough, but for them to believe that I deliberately maimed Severus so he'd be unable to teach? But first, Severus left last evening, and the question is…. Where could he have gone?" Albus questioned.
"He had five options for transportation. Severus could have walked, which meant he wouldn't have gotten very far, flown via broom, but he's too weak to fly for long, Knight Bus, Side along Apparition or a Port Key," Minerva decided.
It was almost ironic, how easily Minerva was slipping in Albus' role as strategist.
"I need to go to the bank to find out if he's been there. I'll be back," Albus announced.
"You're not going by yourself," Minerva insisted. She physically blocked Dumbledore from entering the Floo. "Why is it necessary for me to repeatedly remind you that he's terrified of you?"
He stared at her for a moment, and Minerva believed that Albus was more than willing to walk over her in order to gain access to the Floo. Then he nodded his head in grim acceptance.
"Yes, it would be better for Severus if you came with me. Minerva, what happened yesterday between you two? I thought you said he seemed relieved that our Bonding was postponed?" questioned Albus.
"He seemed to be… but Severus was very subdued after we talked but he claimed he was exhausted," Minerva informed him. "He did ask about the position of Assistant Deputy Head Master."
"The money hasn't been allocated as I haven't proposed the position yet to the Governors. I wanted to speak with Severus further regarding the position, and tailor the job description so that he'd be the only acceptable candidate."
Albus was silent for a moment, and then he sighed.
"I fear that perhaps your conversation with him yesterday is the catalyst behind his flight. Did he believe that I was abandoning him? For good reason, Severus has no faith in my assurances," Albus reminded her. "It is important that we catch him before he gets to the bank. If he empties his bank account, it will be a violation of his probation. The Aurors will be informed as they'll believe that he's taken flight."
"It's been over fifteen years since you vouched for Severus, is he still on probation?" Minerva questioned.
"He's on probation for the rest of his life, Minerva. I've tried to keep his yoke light, but it still chaffs," Albus stated. "I need to contact Kingsley. If the Aurors believe he's a flight risk, I fear that Voldemort will be made aware through his contacts in the Ministry. I highly doubt that Severus has willingly returned back to Voldemort. Severus will then have the Aurors and the Death Eaters searching for him."
"And the Order," Minerva tartly reminded Albus. "Won't the Order be searching for him? You're not just letting Severus hang!"
"Who would I send after Severus? Sirius? Alastor? They would be far too eager to find Severus as they believe my trust in him is not justified. Remus? He would handle the matter with some tact, but Severus would react badly. After all, Remus has attempted to murder him twice, and now with the child to protect, Severus would kill him in what he views as justifiable self-defense."
"Arthur," Minerva retorted. "Molly, Aberforth… There are others that can be trusted with this responsibility."
"Aberforth? I do not wish my brother involved with this matter, as I can not bear to hear his opinion on this matter. He is quite vocal in some matters, and I do not wish to hear in detail how I have once more neglected my familial responsibilities. The bank, then Spinners End. Let us be off, Minerva," Albus stated. He then extended his arm to her and she took it. "First, we'll floo to the bank."
The ride on the Stagecoach was much easier on this queasy stomach then the Knight bus. The roads were bumpy, yes, but there was no chandelier swinging wildly to upset his equilibrium. Severus positioned himself carefully so he could keep an eye on the entrance to the bus, his wand hidden beneath his cloak, steady in his hand.
As much as his body craved sleep, he managed to stay awake until the bus reached his hometown. It was normally only a fifteen minute walk from the bus stop to where his home was located, but the cobbled roadway seemed to stretch on and on for miles. Many of the houses were vacant, long since boarded up to prevent vandals from breaking in, and it was an all together depressing place to live. The unquiet ghosts of his painful past hung heavily here, and Severus shivered in the chill morning air.
Don't you fret, Ari, you won't be living here. The Head Master will have you live at Hogwarts where you'll become the spoiled Pet of Gryffindor House. We'll be here for a few hours, as I need to take the next bus back to London.
It was risky, I know, to take public transportation here, but no one would expect me to take a bus. A port key, yes, but not a Muggle bus.
Carefully, Severus opened the door to his house, keeping his wand at the ready. His house appeared vacant and long since abandoned, but its appearance was just a glamour. Fortunately, the glamour wasn't dependant on his personal strength to keep it intact. His wards were also unbroken, which meant that no one had been here since he had last lived here.
Don't be afraid, Ari. I'm just dropping off clothes here, grabbing some supplies… and I'll leave a note for Minerva. She'll be here, soon enough, and I'll have to ensure that she knows which books to sell.
In all honesty, she will sell them all, but there are a few volumes here and at the school that will ensure that you have a proper student wand. Yes, your father will no doubt wish to buy you the very best wand that Ollivander can offer, but I want to give your first wand to you. No doubt you'll wonder who I am, why a stranger gave you such a personal gift. The Head Master will not be forthcoming with the information, but Minerva will explain who I am. She has a kind soul, and no doubt she'll tell you exquisite lies about me, so at first, you won't be ashamed of me. In time, you will be humiliated to discover my role in your life, I know.
I'd bequeath you my student books so you'd get a proper education in the magical basics, but they are annotated with so many spells that I created that I pray that you'd never see them. You'd wonder what type of monster would create such horrible spells.
I created those spells for defense, Ari. Defense! When the werewolf attacked me and the Head Master did nothing, I knew then how little my life was worth. I had always believed that I was worthless, but to comprehend how little value your father placed on my life, I knew then that I had to be ready to defend myself against IT.
He worked hurriedly, attempting to keep focused on his goal. Leave everything that Dumbledore had given him at the house; exchange it for the Muggle Clothing. Fortunately, all his old clothes still fit as he had lost weight during his ordeal. When his clothes were in danger of exploding from the building pressure of his expanding abdomen, he'd visit a charity shop and rummage for clothes.
Actually, maybe he better move that to top of things he needed to do. He needed a jumper and a parka of some sort. Antenatal vitamins, also, as Poppy had insisted he take them. There was no time for neatness; anyone that came to his house would realize that he had been here.
He found his stash, all the money he had managed to squirrel away. It wasn't much, and he wasted precious time counting and recounting it in the hopes it would multiply, but it would be enough to let a room for the next few months. That done, Severus staggered away from his home and back towards the bus station, looking for all the world like a legless drunk.
Truth was, he was shattered, working on the last dredges of his energy. He barely made the bus back to London, and no matter how much he tried, he could not keep his eyes open. The bumps and the swaying of the bus lulled him into a sleep haunted by nightmares of a furious Head Master who had discovered his escape. When he finally woke, it was morning and he was in London.
Another Tube ride was necessary, and before long, he was standing near the intersection of Knockturn Alley and Diagon Alley. As always, the snowy white building of Gringotts towered over all neighboring shops. He entered through a set of bronze doors and then through the set of silver doors before entering the lobby. It was barely past opening hours, so the bank was rather busy.
He was mentally counting the seconds, anxiously waiting for the moment when Albus Dumbledore, having discovered his flight, would swoop in and capture him. Then the incubator would be returned back to Hogwarts where he'd serve out his lifetime sentence. Hopefully, he'd live long enough to see his daughter.
His nerves were shot by the time a small Goblin informed him that he was next customer to be served.
"I'd appreciate a full bookkeeping for the account of Severus Tobias Snape," he politely requested.
You always spoke politely to Goblins, as they were touchy and prone to fits of bad temper. The Goblin muttered disparaging comments that he was meant to hear about Severus' lack of responsibility in reference to money matters.
"I've been ill, and have not been able to oversee my monthly accounting," Severus calmly stated. For good measure, he glanced at his empty left sleeve.
The Goblin's shrewd eyes followed Severus' glance and then the Goblin flinched when he saw the empty sleeve. Goblins were notorious about their touchiness regarding physical deformities, as they had experienced millennia of slights over their short stature and rude jokes about the size of their feet, ears and other body parts. It was the very height of rudeness for a Goblin to notice such things.
"Very well, Mr. Snape," the Goblin's voice was almost apologetic, as if a Goblin could actually be contrite. "Let's take this to a private area."
Something was seriously amiss with his bank account. The monthly withdrawal for St. Helga's had taken place in January and there hadn't been enough in his account to cover it. There was an accounting charge for insufficient funds plus another fee for the paperwork required. Someone… Minerva?... had deposited enough money in his account to cover the deficit in mid-January, but he hadn't collect a single knut from Hogwarts since February 1st.
"St. Helga's didn't attempt to withdraw payment again?" Severus intently questioned.
His bank account made no sense!
"No, after their first attempt failed due to a lack of funds, they didn't attempt again," the Goblin's voice was dry, not bothering to hide his contempt for those that did not have sufficient cash to cover their expenses.
"I had someone who said that they'd watch my finances while I recovered. They've completely bollocked it all up. I will require my account to be closed, as I need to make immediate payment to St. Helga's for my mother's care."
Severus rubbed his aching head, and wondered why the Head Master had decided to stop paying his accrued sick times. He should have had another month's worth of sick pay, and to make his account current at St. Helga's, Severus would have to delve into his emergency fund.
Merlin's scrote, St. Helga's hadn't just thrown his mother out in the street?
The Goblin hemmed and hawed, but after another long, curt discussion with the Goblin, Severus succeeded in pulling his savings out of the bank, and left. He was in the mass exodus from the bank when he heard a man in the crowd call out a friendly greeting to someone who was just about to enter the building.
"Albus! Albus Dumbledore! What are you doing out of Hogwarts? Don't tell me they let you skive off today!"
"Just needed to do some banking," was the cheery reply. "It's a lovely day for an outing, isn't it, Ephraim?"
"Actually, Albus, I'm finding the weather rather brisk!"
"It's invigorating! Don't you agree, Minerva?"
Overwhelmed by his fear, he did not bother to hear if Minerva agreed with Albus' positive assessment of the weather. Instead, Severus grabbed his wand, and recklessly Disapparated to St. Helga's.
He landed hard on his knees at St. Helga's Home for the Magically Feeble, and it took repeated attempts for him to stand. When Severus finally gracelessly staggered to his feet, he was pleased to discover that he had managed not to Splinch himself. All parts were apparently accounted for.
Stupid dunderhead! Sheer and utter recklessness! I could have hurt Ari!
But I couldn't let him find us!
Severus managed to stagger to the front desk, and he politely greeted the witch. As always, St. Helga's was a dingy mess, but it was the best care that he could once afford.
"I'd like to see Eileen Prince, please," he requested. Propriety demanded that he should first pay his comatose mother a visit, and then he'd make his account current.
The rather bored witch appeared confused by his request and then she went through the long list of residents. Three times she went through the long list, and then she shook her head.
"There's no resident here with that name," she explained in a faux cheerful tone. "Are you sure she's here? Perhaps she's at St. Helda's? People often get us confused."
St. Helda's Home for the Magically Feeble was one thousand galleons more per month. There was no way in heaven or hell would anyone possessing one single brain cell could confuse the two hospices.
"Eileen Marie Prince Snape?" Severus repeated his mother's name slowly as though he was dealing with a particularly daft first year.
Again, he was rewarded with the same result. Confusion, and then the dense witch re-examined the list.
"No one here with that name," was her chirpy answer.
"She was here in December," he desperately protested. "I visited her just before Christmas."
"No longer here," she assured him in a cheery tone. "Perhaps she passed on?"
The incongruity of her happy, clappy tone with the subject matter infuriated a mentally drained Severus.
"I wish to find out what happened to her," Severus insisted. "Can you tell me? Is there anyone here that might be able to answer such a simple question?"
"Let me get a supervisor," the front desk witch decided as she rapidly realized that the one-armed man in front of her was determined to make an ugly scene. "Can you take a seat?"
Severus refused to take a seat, knowing full well that once he sat down, he'd never be able to stand. Sheer pride was keeping him on his feet, and nothing else. A witch with platinum dyed blond hair arrived, and she ushered him into a small room.
"Eileen Prince? What has happened to her?" His tone was brusque. He was shattered, and possessed little energy for polite niceties such as a civil tone.
"We're not at liberty to discuss where she is due to the recent Privacy in Medical Records Act. You'll need to speak to a family member." The witch gave him a very vacant smile that was supposed to be comforting and understanding.
"I'm her son, Severus Tobias Snape! I hold her proxy for her healthcare decisions, and no one has told me what has happened to my mother! What have you done with her? I know my account is in arrears, but I have been seriously ill since Christmas. You didn't just throw her out in the street because you didn't receive my timely payment, did you?"
"No! No! Mr. Snape, let me find her records. I'm sorry that I didn't immediately recognize you. You've lost a great deal of weight. Let me find her chart." She gave him an apologetic smile and then she began rummaging through a cabinet. "You've really lost a great deal of weight."
Don't worry. I'll be putting back on all that lost weight plus a great deal more in the next few months.
He continued to stand, refusing to admit any weakness. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his wand. How much of it had he recklessly squandered in his haste for flight? To his surprise, the wand was still charged. Not completely, but he hadn't drained it entirely. There was enough left in the reserve to allow him to put up a good fight if he needed to do so.
"Mr. Snape? You're not in arrears with your mother's care. Albus Dumbledore…"
His stomach dropped to his knees when he heard that name.
"…came here in January after your account had insufficient funds. He produced this."
The care manager of St. Helga's handed him a legal document that stated Albus Dumbledore had complete control over the decisions of Eileen Marie Prince Snape if Severus was ever incapacitated. He knew damn well that he had never signed such a document, but it still was his handwriting on the document.
"He paid your mother's account and he insisted on removing her from our care. Mr. Dumbledore was quite vocal in his displeasure over her condition and her surroundings."
"He's hopelessly naïve about such things," Severus half-heartedly explained. "He's never had to face the reality of hospice care, nor its expense. Do you have any idea where she was transferred?"
"The Hospice of St. Barbara. I can find the address for you," the administrator explained. "I must confess that I'm surprised he didn't inform you of his decision."
"I'm really not officially discharged from the hospital," Severus quickly admitted. Sometimes a bit of the truth was all that was necessary to make a lie that much more believable. "I think he was waiting until I was stronger before he informed me of his unilateral decisions."
"That's likely," but her tone conveyed her uncertainty. "Here's the address."
She handed him a small card, and he mentally sighed when he saw the address. He had a choice between the devil and the deep blue sea, either the Tube and then the Muggle stagecoach or the Knight Bus.
"Thank you. I appreciated the gentle care you gave my mother all these years." It was a lie, but he couldn't imagine the stress of dealing with the dead and dying every single day. It was in all likelihood a job far worse than instructing Potions to witless wonders.
Before his stomach had even settled, he was once more on the Knight Bus, watching the chandelier swing wildly during each leap and bound. Stan Shunpike, still aggrieved over Severus' earlier stinginess with regards to the tip Stan believed he had rightfully earned, had barely confirmed that Severus was physically on the bus before Ernie had gunned the motor to the next destination.
Fortunately for Ari's sake, he had landed on a buxom witch who hadn't minded him in her lap.
"Let me be the next stop," Severus pleaded. "Let it be soon!"
"I'd like an accounting of Severus Tobias Snape's account please. As you see by this documentation, I have legal supervision of his financial matters, and I'm supposed to check the figures every year."
Albus bequeathed the Goblin a winning smile, which merely caused the unimpressed Goblin to growl in disgust. His bright smile didn't fade at all even when the Goblin muttered how Albus had never previously checked the account. Goblins took financial responsibilities very seriously and Albus' lackadaisical attitude toward Severus' financial matters was an unforgivable insult to the clerk's strict sense of propriety.
"Follow me," the Goblin ordered briskly.
"This doesn't sound promising," Minerva whispered as they followed the Goblin into a private conference room.
"Mr. Snape closed his account recently," the Goblin explained after the three of them sat down. "In fact, he closed it fifteen minutes ago by withdrawing all the funds. I asked Griphook to attend this meeting, as he dealt with Mr. Snape. He will be here shortly."
Albus' blue eyes narrowed when he heard that the account was closed. He examined the produced paperwork and he sighed.
"They didn't pay his disability payment for this month. Damn paperwork, I submitted it three times in triplicate like they requested. I'd like to please deposit this into his account," Albus explained.
He put a small purple bag on the table and he carefully pushed it toward the Goblin.
"His account has been closed," the Goblin curtly explained, and he refused to accept the bag.
"Can you not 'unclose' it by depositing that small amount?" Albus hopefully questioned. "I should have checked that he was receiving his disability stipend."
"The account has been closed by Mr. Snape, and per the directives on the account, we have submitted documentation regarding the closure to both the Ministry of Magic and yourself. We can not 'unclose' it."
"As always I'm impressed by the efficiency of your bank," Albus' voice did not sound particularly impressed, and in fact, sounded suspiciously like less than chuffed. "Therefore, since you can not 'unclose' his account, I would like to open a new account for Severus Tobias Snape. Once I get his disability payments straightened out, he will need an account in which to have the funds deposited."
Griphook's contribution to their conversation was minimal. He stated that Severus had asked about the payments to his mother's hospice care, and then had withdrawn all his funds to pay for her hospice care. The two goblins then left the room, letting Minerva and Albus continue their conversation in private.
"I informed him that I had handled his mother's care, Minerva. Damn it, he's succeeded in bringing the Ministry's attention upon himself. I can not believe that we just missed him!" Albus questioned.
"He would have to exit using the same entrance that we entered. There was a rather loud noise when you were talking to Ephriam. It sounded like a particularly sloppy Disapparation," Minerva reminded Albus. "Could that have been him? His wand has sufficient power to allow him to Disapparate."
"Damn it, he's gone to St. Helga's to settle his account. Minerva, you need to go there immediately," Albus instructed. "I need to set up this new account for Severus, and then I must see the Minister of Magic. I hope I can convince Rufus Scrimgeour not to dispatch the Aurors after Severus. Hopefully, Rufus can understand Severus' real fear of his comatose mother being cast out on the street because her account was in arrears. Minerva, if Severus is not there, you'll need to go directly to the Hospice of St. Barbara. I'll meet you at St. Barbara's. If you see him, you must convince him to return to Hogwarts by any means necessary, Minerva."
"He won't willingly return, Albus," Minerva tartly reminded him.
"He'll be sentenced to Azkaban, Minerva. There will be a trial, a very lengthy, highly publicized trial. I would guess that the verdict will be returned in six or so months, Minerva."
Minerva's face fell, as she realized what that meant.
"I'll do my best," promised the Scottish witch.
The minute he stepped into the grounds of the Hospice of St. Barbara, Severus knew that there was no way he'd ever be able to pay for his mother's care. There was a large pond with a school of goldfish… GOLDFISH… and there were a few peacocks that indolently strolled through the flower gardens.
Peacocks! That luxury probably added fifty galleons per bird on each month's bill!
It also didn't smell like a hospice. No, it smelled clean, and was that the aroma of baking bread?
A front desk clerk greeted him as he stepped into the atrium.
"May I be of assistance?" The witch asked in a normal tone. Her voice didn't reek of good cheer, the witch sounded sincerely happy about life and her job.
That meant another seventy five galleons per month!
"My name is Severus Snape. I believe my mother was transferred here? Her name is…" Severus stated.
"Eileen Prince, yes. She's in room B106. Take a left and then it's the third room on your right. Is it your first time here? I have to confess that you look a little perplexed," the receptionist stated.
"Yes," he admitted, more than a trifle bit alarmed by her efficiency. "She was transferred here while I was ill. I've been seriously ill… recently…"
His voice trailed off, as he grew more and more convinced that there was no way in hell he'd ever be able to pay for his mother's care.
"Let me get the Supervisor. She'll explain to you what care your mother is receiving and her prognosis."
His mother's prognosis was status asparagus. He bit his tongue so not to state that to the happy receptionist. It wasn't his mother's fault that her heart continued to beat while her mind had gone a burton. No, that was completely and utterly Tobias Snape's responsibility.
"Mr. Snape? I'm Sister Elizabeth, I oversee your mother's care," said a new voice. "If you'll come with me?"
Meekly, he followed the auburn haired nurse down the bright hallways. There were paintings! PAINTINGS! On the hallways, and he mentally added another hundred galleons to the monthly bill.
"It's a very good thing for your mother that she was transferred here. She had open bedsores! Bedsores, Mr. Snape! I hate to disparage another hospice, but they were not very consistent in their care." Her brisk tone conveyed disapproval and Severus felt as though he was five years old. "Open bedsores are only the result of gross neglience!"
"It was the best care that I could afford," he weakly protested.
Her eyes softened and she comfortingly patted him on his shoulder.
"It's not your fault, Mr. Snape. You entrusted those…. People… with your mother's care, and they didn't follow their care plans. Bedsores are unacceptable!" Sister Elizabeth's voice carried down the hallway. "You probably won't recognize her as our mediwitch has completely revised her medications. I believe that they were drugging her to make her more manageable."
"Sister Elizabeth… how much is the monthly bill here?" He questioned. "I have cash for this month's payment, but I worry that I will be unable to pay for her care. I've been ill, seriously ill, and I don't have a steady income as I've lost my job."
She named a figure, and he nearly physically collapsed from the shock.
There was no way he'd ever be able to afford that on a teacher's salary. Only Filius, with a salary boosted by a century's worth of longevity pay, would be able to easily pay that!
Head Master, couldn't you have picked a cheaper hospice, perhaps one without the bloody peacocks?
"I will need to have her transferred as I'm afraid that I can not afford that," he admitted. "This is a lovely place, but I don't have the funds to keep her here."
"Mr. Snape, your mother's care is paid for the next five years," Sister Elizabeth gently explained. "There was an older gentleman that oversaw her transfer and he insisted on sparing no expense. Rest assured, your mother is receiving top of the line care. I believe that her personal aide has just finished styling her hair and she should be receiving her manicure now."
"Manicure?" He questioned, disbelieving what he was hearing. "She's getting a manicure?"
"Yes, finger nails and toe nails are part of our strict policy on patient hygiene. If we don't keep an eye on them, nails turn into claws, Mr. Snape. Patient hygiene is of utmost importance here!" Sister Elizabeth's tone was harsh, and Severus had to force himself not to stare at his remaining hand to confirm that his nails were neat and presentable.
If he remembered correctly, he had bit them down and they were looking rather ratty.
"Hairstyling? Manicures? Pedicures? What other treatments is my mother receiving?"
"Massage treatment, musical therapy, physiotherapy…" Sister Elizabeth paused and then looked at him. "We also offer massage therapy for patient's family as part of our all inclusive program. If you wish to make use of it, all you need to do is book an appointment. After all, you're part of your mother's care, and if you're stressed, then she'll be anxious. Very well, here we are! Marion, Mr. Snape is here to visit his mother. If you don't mind leaving so he can have some privacy?"
A brunette mediwitch curtsied, and then left the room.
It was a wide open room, light, airy and free of any of the all too familiar, reeking smells of hospice. There was even classical music softly playing in the background. His mother was in a large regular bed and she was wearing a cheerful dressing gown. His mother's gray hair was neat, and to his surprise, she wore a smile on her face.
He had never seen her smile before, all his memories of his mother consisted of her sullenness or anger, never joy. To his further astonishment, there were numerous pictures of Severus on her chest of drawers, and he closely examined the pictures.
Definitely the Head Master's input, as Severus was wearing his Instructor's Robes in every picture. There were even faded pictures of his grandparents, Marcus and Emma Prince from their Hogwarts' days. The Head Master had gone through the Hogwarts' archives to find numerous pictures of him for a comatose woman who couldn't have cared any less about her son when she had been aware.
"Good morning, Eileen. Severus is here to visit," Sister Elizabeth loudly stated. Then in a quieter tone, she asked Severus if he'd like some tea. "You look rather peaked. Do you want anything to eat? Perhaps a scone with clotted cream and jam?"
"That would be lovely," he admitted, as while he wasn't hungry, he knew that Ari needed nourishment. "But I need decaffeinated tea please."
He silently sat next to his mother, trying to settle his maelstrom of emotion that he always felt toward his mother. He loved her, as Eileen was his mother, but still he hated her as she had never stopped Tobias' abuse. Yet, he had never stopped hoping that one day, he'd earn her love.
I shouldn't be angry with her, Ari. She didn't love me enough to defend me from Tobias. You won't have to worry about that, as I love you so much. I'll protect you from the Dark Lord and the Head Master. I'll defend you, if it's the very last thing I do.
But I must admit that my twisted liaison with your father has striking similarities to my relationship with my mother. Why do I always love people that will never return my affection? Am I fundamentally flawed, Ari?
"Now, as much as your mother is overjoyed that you're visiting, you don't look as though you should be out of your hospital bed. Don't overstay your welcome as I don't want you to have a relapse," the Sister sternly informed him when she delivered the tea to him. "You don't want to upset your mother by collapsing."
"I may not be back soon," he regretfully admitted. "I need to find steady employment."
"We'll take good care of her. I will take of your mother as though she was my own," the mediwitch promised.
How could he answer that proclamation but with a sincere thank you?
He stayed long enough to finish his tea and the very last crumb of his scone. His brekkie finished, he attempted to leave the building but before he succeeded, he heard a very familiar Scottish brogue.
"So her son is visiting Eileen?" Minerva McGonagall questioned. "That's wonderful. The poor lad was seriously ill and he hasn't been able to visit her since December."
Minerva! MINERVA! No doubt your father has sent your Auntie Minnie after me!
Fortunately, there was an empty room nearby, so he entered that room to hide. He saw Sister Elizabeth and Minerva McGonagall enter his mother's room, and then he slipped down the hallway. He was about to enter the atrium when he heard someone apologizing for knocking over a planter.
"How did you ever become an Auror, Dora?" Kingsley Shacklebolt questioned.
"My winsome personality. They needed someone perky and vivacious to balance you and MadEye's delightful personalities."
"Enough chattering," stated another voice. "This is a serious situation. He's broken his parole and your cheek can only lead to problems. He's bloody dangerous, Severus Snape is, and Albus Dumbledore was a fool to vouch for him."
Darrin Proudfoot. Kingsley Shacklebolt and that damnable pink haired wench who needed regular rabies shots as she was shagging a werewolf and a mutt!
Bloody hell, Minerva on one side of him, and the Order AND the Aurors on the other. He had an uneasy suspicion that assorted Death Eaters were even now converging on the perimeter of the Hospice of St. Barbara.
Ari, forgive me, but I need to do this once more.
He grabbed his wand, concentrated on his need to Disapparate to a location where he'd be safe from everyone. Concentrating on his overwhelming desire for safety, he made ready to Disapparate.
I need a place where we can be safe for the next few months, where no one can find us. Not the Head Master, not the Order, not the Aurors and certainly not the Dark Lord.
It was a Blind Jump, the very personification of sheer magical irresponsibility, and he closed his eyes.
With a crack, he Apparated into what he believed was an alley way. Severus collapsed to his knees, and then his much abused stomach rebelled. Up came the clotted cream, jam, scone and decaffeinated tea. When he was finished with that, he threw up various stray organs that he didn't need such as his appendix, his liver and then a few toenails.
He stayed where he was, panting, and he knew that he was being watched. Severus looked up and saw a large, aristocratic blue grey cat staring at him. Its intelligent green eyes reminded him of Minerva in her animagus form, and it blinked once.
"Enjoying the raree show?" Severus spat.
The cat blinked once more and then walked away from him, its tail held high. Its black nose was crinkled in disgust from the smell of Severus' brekkie.
"Just need to rest for a bit. Then I'll get up," Severus promised himself. "Just as soon as the world stops spinning."
He dragged himself away from the remains of his breakfast, and he crawled next to the brick wall. Leaning on it for support, he closed his eyes. It was raining, and the cool mist felt good against his feverish skin.
"I'll get up…" Severus promised himself. "Just let me rest five minutes…"
Closing his eyes, he kept reminding himself that he needed to stand but his exhausted body refused to cooperate.
"Grisha! You damn, demanding cat. I'm following you! I'm following you! Stop your caterwauling."
Someone was in the alley way, and he struggled to stand. He would meet his enemies standing tall and proud. For all his determination, it took most of his remaining energy just to open his eyes.
"Easy, easy," said an older female. Her heavy accent made it hard for him to understand what she was saying. She made a soothing gesture with her hands. "Stay where you are."
Eastern European accent, Severus thought. Where the hell had he landed?
"Sasha?" the female softly questioned.
A male answered, and Severus tried to concentrate on the second figure. He was bearded, and he wore his long white hair tied back in a braid. The man was intently staring at Severus. With his right hand, he made a hooking gesture, and muttered something unintelligible.
"Chto za huy!" was the startled man's next comment.
"Sasha!" The woman protested his remark in what Severus believed was a spat of evil sounding Russian. The man answered in kind, and Severus closed his eyes. Let the two strangers argue all day, he'd nap until it was time for him to partake in the conversation. Then his strength regained, he'd be victorious in their altercation.
"It is agreed then, Sasha?" The woman questioned.
"Da! What choice do we really have? He's apparently fallen from the Heavens, and is need of our assistance. Serendipity!"
Least that's what Severus believed Sasha said, as his Eastern European pronunciation was stronger than the woman's accent.
"Come with me, Adrik. I'll fix you a nice herbal tea. Perhaps peppermint will help settle your stomach? I'll clean your wounds, as you're bleeding, Adrik. A nice mixture of calendula, yarrow and wheatgrass extract will patch you up, and prevent your fair skin from scarring."
Adrik? Why was she calling him Adrik? Calendula, yarrow and wheatgrass extract? Merlin's scrote! He had fallen in with two rogue Russian herbologists? Pomona Sprout would be laughing if she only knew!
"Who are you?" He gasped. He pulled away from her as his stomach began to rebel once more. It would do him no good to vomit on these two strangers.
"I am Oxana, the rather uncouth fellow is Sasha. Can you stand, Adrik?" Oxana questioned.
"Yes," he assured her, but Sasha decided to handle matters in his own unique style.
"I just read your chakras, Adrik, you're too weak to stand. Put your arm around my neck," he stated. "I'll carry you."
Severus did so, and then Sasha slid his arms under Severus' body. The older man was stronger than Severus expected, as he was able to easily pick up Severus. Grisha made a loud purring noise as he followed Sasha out of the alley way. It seemed that the cat was quite satisfied with himself, and that he craved suitable adulation from his adoring attendants.
That damn cat, there was something about that damn cat that reminded Severus of a Kneazle. Why couldn't he remember? It wasn't a Kneazle, wasn't even a cross breed… but what was it?
"Yes, you'll get some fish, Grisha," Oxana promised the cat. "Adrik needs our help first."
The cat murmured its understanding and promised patience.
"Where am I? Who are you? Where are you taking me?" Severus imperiously questioned.
"You're in Manchester," Oxana explained. "We've already told you who we are, and right now Sasha is taking you into Serendipity, which is our shop. You'll be stripped of your wet clothes and placed into a warm bed."
"Then you're being dosed with a tasty brew of malabar nut, feverfew and astragalus," Sasha added. "We'll need to rub you down with an oil made of fennel, lemon, lavender and valerian."
"Let me down! I don't need you to dose me! You're not rubbing me down with oil."
The two crazed Herbologists ignored his strident protests, and Severus wondered if he had gone from the frying pan directly into the fire. When they stripped him of his clothes, and began pouring assorted herbal components down his throat, he began to wonder if perhaps he had made a serious mistake running away from Hogwarts.
Meanwhile, Grisha the familiar contentedly purred.
Even for an Archangel cat, Grish liked fish a great deal, and he hoped his two mages would promptly present him with his fish. He was required to notify them whenever he noticed the presence of another mage, and he took that responsibility very seriously.
A/N # 2 - "Chto za huy!" roughly translates to "What the Frack?" in Russian. Or so I've been assured.
A/N # 3 - thanks to whitehound, who told me that Severus caught the megabus a few years too early. :)