Another Story

Chapter Twenty-one

In which the casualties of war are exhaustively recounted

The hospital wing was quiet again for the first time since the battle started. There were students, professors, and other people everywhere, but those not confined to bed or being observed had been sent elsewhere. Only the ill and the injured remained. It was late in the afternoon, but the sky outside was dark and gray with rain clouds. The downpour had begun about the time that the Aurors from the Ministry had arrived to collect the bodies of the dead Death Eaters and take the live ones into custody and to sort out everything that had happened. But that was several hours ago.

Remus Lupin looked down at his mended leg and sighed softly before attempting to make use of the muggle contraption that an overzealous, muggle-born Hufflepuff had transfigured for him out of an ordinary chair. The wheels squeaked against the floor. Poppy wanted him off his feet for several days even after magically repairing the broken bone. She had insisted upon additional treatment and care of the injury because of the number of hours he had spent walking around with his broken leg simply bandaged up. He did not have the strength left to argue.

Dumbledore had sent him away when Cornelius Fudge arrived, insisting that Madam Pomfrey take a look at his injuries. She had just finished attending to Hermione and Severus. Their care had required four hours, perhaps a bit more, and the school mediwitch’s complete attention. In better circumstances, she almost certainly would have requested aid from the mediwitches and wizards of St. Mungo’s Hospital.

Remus had spent many hours that morning sitting with the Weasley family, three of whom were under Poppy’s care, including Ginny, who had a concussion. She had fallen asleep while waiting for Madam Pomfrey, earning a mild scolding and a few mouthfuls of an especially nasty looking vermilion potion. Ginny had complained quietly and gone back to sleep, this time in a hospital bed next to her father’s. Remus had sat in his chair watching over her for some time even after Molly and her uninjured offspring had been ordered out of the ward. They all needed rest, but the hospital wing was crowded enough as it was.

And the wing was very crowded, Remus acknowledged, as he quietly rolled from his place at Ginny’s bedside, which he had occupied for a very long while as he waited for her to wake up again, toward the partitioned area of the ward. He wheeled down the ward with less than practiced ease, recounting of the names of the students and faculty members occupying the beds, resting after their sleepless night.

Seamus Finnigan. Who was it that had informed him that Seamus and his best friend Dean Thomas had defeated Lucius Malfoy? Perhaps it had been Harry. The young wizard had lost a lot of blood from a wound caused by a conjured dagger. It was the last resort of a cornered Dark Wizard. Dean had only left his side when ordered to. The pair were as close as brothers. Remus sighed softly, paused, and rubbed his eyes as the sentiment made him think of James Potter and Sirius Black.

Padma Patil. She was such a brilliant student. Apparently, Ginny wasn’t the only one nearly blown up by a blasting curse. Parvati had been released already, but her sister was lying in bed with ointment-soaked bandages on her burned arms and hands. Remus was privately very glad that he had not seen it happen. Neville and Parvati had got her to the hospital wing very quickly despite the heavy fighting at the time.

Susan Bones. Voldemort might have got her grandparents, but she had lived through this war. According to Finch-Fletchly, who was finally taking a career in wizarding medicine seriously, she had been rather shell-shocked -- wonderful muggle expression -- and had to be sedated. Madam Pomfrey said that the girl had nearly died of fright after killing a werewolf only a few years older than she was. She should never have been allowed to fight, everyone decided, though she was of great assistance until she was forced to kill.

Professor Vector and Professor Sinistra. They remained side by side even there. Just as they had been on the battlefield when the older Crabbe and Goyle had come for their sons, who had been stunned early on in the fight when it became apparent whose side they were really on. The professors had put up a good fight with their backs against the wall. Or more accurately the lake. They been exposed rather thoroughly to the Cruciatus Curse, but their students, a pair of Ravenclaws and a Slytherin student by the name of Blaise Zabini, came to their aid and drove back the pair, defeating Goyle, but not Crabbe, who had possibly ambushed Arthur Weasley behind Hagrid’s hut later that day.

There were others who had been wounded, some more severely than others, including Colin Creevey who had been struck dumb by a curse. It was perhaps just temporary. He only remained in the hospital wing for observation. Remus glimpsed him sitting on a window sill and watching the rain outside.

But then, there were the other students and professors. The ones in the other room. The ones who would not be recovering, who would not finish the school year nor begin another term in the autumn. The ones who had perished in the final battle.

There would be many empty places at the tables next year, not to mention a new professor of charms and a new professor of care of magical creatures. Twelve students had perished, not including those who had gone over to the other side. Some part of Remus wanted to mourn their misspent lives, so brief and so wasted, but he couldn’t do that yet. Maybe when everyone was well again, when life had returned to normal, but not yet. For the moment they were still the enemy.

Lavender Brown’s death was a hard blow to Neville Longbottom and to all of the Gryffindors. Neville had shown him a ring set with a lovely amethyst stone. He could not quite afford a proper engagement ring, but he wanted to give her that after the battle. And he did, slipping it onto her cold finger and kissing her hand before being led away by Parvati. She was taking him back to the Tower.

Terry Boot and Su Li had died together, defending Filius Flitwick after he had been struck by a powerful curse. They had by all accounts been surrounded and outnumbered, though it had been only for a few moments. Their house mates had rushed to their aid, but those minutes were enough. It was a terrible tragedy, but Remus had to admit that Gryffindor house did not have a monopoly on courage.

The fifth and sixth students had contributed much to the fight, as much as their older peers, and had suffered heavier losses. There had been no choice. Their side had needed soldiers, and the students and professors were nearly all that they had had from which to conscript their army.

Of the fallen professors he would miss Hagrid the most perhaps, he thought, because the half-giant and he were so alike. Both had been treated shabbily because of what was in their blood whether by birth or by bite. But Flitwick too would be missed. His students were already lost without their head of house, their compass during stormy times. Remus knew that he would miss Flitwick’s stories of days gone-by and his amiable manner. Who would replace them?

And then there was another matter. Remus paused again as he remembered Minerva telling him that Alastor Moody had been killed. She had hinted that Ginny might have been there at the end. He shook his head. Ginny had been too disoriented to mention it earlier, but there had been a lingering sadness in her eyes. She had been told that her father and her unfortunate brother would be all right in time, so that was not the source of the emotion. He could only imagine what it must have been like for her.

“Poor Ginny,” he thought, “maybe I can make all of this up to her somehow. I would spend the rest of life ...”

Remus simply shook his head and slid the screen aside as he made his way into the back portion of the ward where Severus and Hermione were being kept. He smiled a bit sadly as he looked at their beds, side by side and bathed in the soft, gray light from the windows. For an instant he fancied that they looked rather angelic. Then he remembered that they were both terribly injured and that not even Madam Pomfrey could say when or even if they would ever fully recover.

Remus had begun wondering whether their story would have a happy ending or not during the night when Severus had been injured by a demon in the prison realm. He had realized then that Hermione harbored certain feelings for Severus, though he had suspected it even earlier. He had half believed that Severus would be too blinded by her heritage or her status as Gryffindor to see what she had to offer: strength and compassion. Remus had been pleasantly surprised when circumstances proved otherwise, that Severus was not half so prejudiced as he had thought.

But now here they were, and it just didn’t seem right.

Professor Lupin looked at Hermione and felt the tragedy of the night they had all passed through weigh more heavily upon him. So much potential, he thought, shaking his head. Would she be allowed to realize it? Many of the students, his Ginny included, would recover in time and go on with their lives, wiser and sadder perhaps, but they would continue and live in days of peace that Remus hoped would last a very long time. But what would become of Hermione? Would she be able to take up her position as an assistant professor to Minerva in the fall? Remus chuckled bitterly and asked a simpler question, would she open her eyes again?

And Severus only partially recovered from his earlier ordeal and facing grave injury yet again. Remus moved to his bedside and looked at his colleague, who had been his own schoolmate. They had never gotten along. Of course, that was mostly Severus’ fault, but he accepted his share of the blame too. He had enjoyed all but one of Sirius’ pranks on the dour and annoying Slytherin. They could never have been friends, but then ... Remus wished that it had been different between them.

“Regret,” he muttered. “You should understand that well enough,” he said to the unconscious man in the hospital bed.

There was a soft moan that sounded vaguely argumentative. The werewolf, if he had been able, he would have sprang up from the wheelchair in absolute astonishment. Remus craned his neck to see dark eyes glinting from beneath heavy lids. Severus had returned to the world of the waking.

Madam Pomfrey had explained, during a spare moment between examining his broken leg and going to see to the Weasleys in her care, everything that she had done to keep Severus and Hermione alive. Remus knew comparatively little about the field of medicine. He had picked up a few things here and there due to his lycanthropy and the treatment he sometimes required after a transformation when he did not have his Wolfsbane potion and from his own professional field.

But he knew that their injuries had been very serious, nearly fatal, especially in Severus’ case because he had absorbed most of the impact himself. Hermione had been insulated by his body against much of the debris that had fallen upon them. Remus had seldom heard of someone doing something so self-sacrificing. It was doubly miraculous given the physical condition of the Slytherin head of house.

Remus cast a gentle levitation charm on his chair to raise him up to the same height as Severus’ bed so that he could have a better look at his colleague. For a brief moment Remus wondered whether or not Severus had come out of the Cruciatus induced madness at all, if he had somehow managed to save Hermione without regaining all of his faculties. Then he saw the expression of pain and agitation in those coal black eyes. That was truly Severus looking up at him through those eyes.

Remus smiled at him in relief and said, “Welcome back.”

“Lupin?” questioned Severus in a hoarse voice. He sounded very weak and more than a little confused. “How did I get here?” he asked, licking his parched lips. Other than a few potions that were necessary to keep him alive, Madam Pomfrey had given him only a little bit of fluids.

Remus glanced at a water pitcher and a pair of glasses on a table between the beds. He quickly summoned the pitcher and a glass and filled it for Severus.

“Here,” he said quietly, holding one hand behind Snape’s head and helping him to drink with the other. Severus gulped the water gratefully. “You’ve had quite a time of it,” Remus told him when he had finished.

Severus nodded slowly and closed his eyes again as Remus took the glass away. Everything was a hazy muddle for him. He couldn’t put any of it together in a way that made sense. There had been pain. No, that came later, didn’t it? Or was it from before? He had left the castle and had met someone ... That seemed right. Then he had gone to look for someone else, someone important to him. Hermione. That was simple enough. Except that there had been a battle going on. His heart began to hammer in his chest. He gave a low groan of pain and fear. Something had happened to her. He just knew it. Stones, heavy stones falling upon them both ...

“Hermione!” he screamed, her name tearing through his throat like hot, burning sand. He did nothing to prevent himself from crying out as it all came back to him in a flurry of images and a rush of painful emotions.

Remus didn’t know what to think when Severus’ eyes flew open and he let out a blood-curdling scream that sounded like the name of the young woman lying in the next bed. He was surprised that Snape had the strength. As Severus began to struggle into a sitting position with limit success, Remus grasped him gently by the shoulders and restrained him.

“Hush, hush, she’s all right, Severus,” Remus assured him.

“Where is she?” he asked desperately.

“She’s right over here,” said Remus, pointing toward the other bed. “Now, you must keep your voice down before Poppy comes back here and sedates you,” he cautioned with a reassuring smile.

“Thank you,” Snape whispered, looking at Hermione and feeling calmer. “Is she all right?” he questioned.

Remus squeezed his shoulder and tried to come up with a comforting answer.

“Poppy seemed to think you were injured more severely, so Hermione is better off than you are, I suppose you could say.”

Remus watched curiously as Severus’ eyes drifted from where they had rested on Hermione to his own legs.

“I can’t move,” he said, beads of perspiration beginning to form on his skin.

“Your legs?” questioned Remus.

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Poppy mentioned that she had to rebuild part of your spinal column,” Remus told him gently.

“Was she successful?” he asked, staring at the end of the bed.

“She didn’t know.”

Severus tried desperately to move his legs, but they would not obey. They felt leaden. He merely nodded at Lupin’s response. The werewolf reached down and pinched his calf. He was relieved when he felt the painful pressure.

“Well?” asked Remus with a concerned expression on his face.

“I can feel it,” said Severus.

“Perhaps when the potions wear off ...” Remus said.

“And you?” asked Severus, looking at the wheelchair in which the other professor was hovering.

“It’s just a precaution. When the swelling goes down, Poppy will take another look at my leg. She thinks I may have a torn ligament or some nonsense,” Remus explained.

“I assume that the battle was won,” said Severus after a quiet moment.

“Yes, Harry defeated Voldemort.”

“He lived up to everyone’s expectations. There were times when I had my doubts,” said Severus with a slight nod.

“I don’t know how much of it you witnessed ...” Remus began.

“Very little,” said Severus.

“You did well, saving Hermione’s life in your condition,” said Remus quickly. He knew how Severus felt about the previous battle. It was no secret among the older members of the Order.

“What were our casualties?” he questioned, brushing aside the compliment, but grateful for it nonetheless.

“Severus,” he said in a cautious tone, “I don’t think you’re up to hearing such things just now.”

“So you leave me to worry myself to distraction,” said Severus with a soft snort. “I can manage, Remus. How many of my children have I lost?” he questioned in an uncharacteristically gentle voice.

“Your Slytherins?”

“Who else?”

“Crabbe and Goyle were taken into custody. Anna and Beatrice took care of that. Malfoy ... we don’t know how yet, but he was killed. There are suspicions ...”

“Yes, I had certain suspicions concerning Draco as well,” nodded Snape, choosing not to mention his fear that Lucius had been controlling him. “And the rest of my house?” he persisted.

“Derek Rosier was killed by a stray curse. Whatever his parents might have been, Derek was a credit to ... a credit to your house, Severus,” Remus informed him.

“I know,” nodded the professor, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Zabini helped save Professors Sinistra and Vector after they had dispatched Crabbe and Goyle and their fathers came for revenge.”

“Injured?”

“No, but brave nonetheless,” shrugged Remus. “You have a few fifth and sixth years with broken fingers. All of the other curses and hexes have already been attended to. They did very well,” he said.

“And what of the rest of the students?” asked Severus.

“Severus, this can surely wait until you’ve rested, until you feel better,” said Remus.

Severus frowned and said, “Perhaps if you would simply tell me that Miss Weasley is all right, I would be willing to agree to that.”

Remus was quite touched by the compassionate gesture hidden behind those slightly snarky words. Severus was concerned about his dear Ginny’s welfare. He smiled and squeezed Severus’ shoulder again.

“Of course, Ginny is just fine. She has a concussion, but Poppy gave her something to sort her out. She will be fine in a day or so,” answered Remus.

“I’m pleased,” said Severus with a small nod.

“Thank you,” chuckled Remus.

“One last question?”

“I suppose, but then I must fetch Poppy. She will be very excited to see that you are doing so well.”

Severus started to grumble, but shook his head and told Remus, “Whatever you think is best.” That caused the other professor to raise an eyebrow. Severus was certainly being agreeable. “Did we lose any of our colleagues?” he inquired.

“Filius and Hagrid,” Remus told him quietly.

“I see,” said Severus with a soft sigh. “You won’t elaborate?”

“Not at present,” he answered, lowering his wheelchair to the floor again. “Back in a moment,” he told Snape.

Severus began to feel tired again once the squeaky sound of that obviously muggle contraption faded into the distance. Remus was most likely going to Pomfrey’s office, he decided, letting his eyelids droop slightly.

He turned his head and looked at Hermione. She seemed so peaceful. The memory of his experiences, his delusions, while in the grips of madness were still with him. She had given him such a good reason to return to the world of the sane. He smiled softly at her and did not dare think that any harm might befall her nor that this harm might be lasting.

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