Snape's Saviour

Chapter 1 - The Beginning

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Snape couldn't believe it, but he had apparated into hell. Saying the incantation, any incantation, because he couldn't imagine any place being worse than where he was, he had ended up no better off. Mind dulled by pain of torture and the liberal application of the Cruciatus curse, all he could think to do was to get away from Voldemort and the Death Eaters; to go anywhere they weren't. Yet here he was, somewhere unknown, still being beaten. This time by children!

Broken and dying, Snape didn't have the strength to fight back, or the power to Apparate away again. This was the end. He coughed - wiping his mouth he saw blood, far too much blood, and more flowed. He realised he was cold, so very cold that it seemed to have seeped through his body into his bones, claiming control. Snape could feel his extremities going numb as the blood flowed from his body and what remained struggled to maintain his life.

Dying slowly, Snape was at least glad of the release from the pain, even if that pain was only a small repayment for the pain he had caused during his tenure as a Death Eater. Boys' laughter surrounded him and he heard the crack of bones as they kicked him again. At least Voldemort had been a little more imaginative in his punishment. Snape stopped struggling and relaxed, knowing it would be over soon. He wondered if anyone would notice he had gone, and if they did, whether they would care.

He doubted it.

There was a scream. Snape wasn't sure but he didn't think it had come from his lips. He had learned, early on, how to bare the pain in silence. The kicking stopped. "Get the fuck away from him! He's mine!" the voice ordered.

Gods, no, Snape thought. Voldemort had followed him! He trembled, terrified and waiting for the next assault.

Snape felt the boys back off slowly and move away. "You can have him, he's broken anyway," one of them replied laughing, but with a slight hint of fear tingeing his voice. Struggling to open his eyes, Snape watched as they turned and ran.

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Relief. Relief flooded over the dying wizard at the cessation of further beatings, but he stiffened as hands reached out and touched him tentatively. "It's OK, they won't come back, not while I am here." It was a girls voice, quiet but slightly tense. "Where does it hurt?" she wiped the blood from his mouth and the hair from his face.

Snape didn't respond, he couldn't respond. Unable to speak he simply looked up, terrified.

"Everywhere?" she asked.

Snape nodded in answer.

"I'll try and help." She pulled a blanket over him. It smelt of dirt, rubbish and urine but it was warm. Snape faded away, hoping never to return.

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Snape didn't so much regain consciousness, as awareness of the pain throughout his body crept up until he could no longer ignore it. He moaned weakly, no longer able to tolerate it and no longer able to ignore it, weakened as he was by the physical and mental harassment and torture that he had endured.

Unable to move, panic rose in him as he frantically endeavoured to move any body part. Nothing responded as it should, his efforts produced only small, jerky movements no matter how hard he tried. That caused more panic. He coughed once and that started a fit of coughing he couldn't contain. It hurt to cough. He could taste the blood in his mouth. He shivered, the coldness biting into him. He gasped for air between bouts of coughing and prayed that he would die soon.

Beside him a body stirred. Snape froze, not daring to move a muscle in case the beatings resumed. He flinched as a cold hand touched his face. Pulling back involuntarily expecting to be struck, he was surprised when it didn't happen. Instead, soothing words flowed over him as the fingers of that hand wiped the blood away and stroked his face, easing him gently into unconsciousness.

The same scenario was played out, over and over again, for an indeterminate time. Snape would wake; pained, chilled and terrified; uncertain of anything except that he wanted to die, only to be soothed by the gentle touch of a stranger.

At one point he willed himself to open his eyes and look at his surroundings. He saw a young girl, a street urchin, unkempt and dressed in rags, looking out of a dirty window with broken glass. She had blonde hair and was humming something wistful, a tune Snape vaguely recognised, but couldn't place. He closed his eyes, weariness flooding over him as his injuries took their toll, and slept.

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Things gradually improved as his body healed, the worst, most dangerous injuries, the ones he shouldn't have survived, were still making their presence known, but at some point he regained enough awareness to realise they would no longer kill him. He wasn't entirely pleased with that scenario however - he still had no idea where he was and no real control of his body. He also realised, worried, that he didn't have his wand.

Snape couldn't be certain that he had it when he escaped Voldemort but he though he had. Perhaps the boys that had beaten him had taken it. He knew he would have to find it if he was to have any chance of returning to Hogwarts. He tried to rise, at least to a sitting position, but his body protested. Wincing in pain, but containing the cry that rose to his lips, he fell back down, gasping as he hit the floor.

This time he didn't loose consciousness; this time he didn't get that relief. He was left conscious to watch as the blonde girl moved quickly to his side. She stroked his hair back. Snape could smell the dirt ingrained into her skin and under her fingernails. He noted that she was filthy, wore rags and had no shoes; yet she touched him gently, her fingers straying only to parts they wouldn't hurt. He sighed, relieved to be in the care of such a gentle child, and wondered what had brought her to such a place.

Snape opened his mouth, wishing to speak, but still unable to.

The girl watched him; she watched as terror rose in his eyes. She stroked his face gently, not ceasing. "Shhh. It's OK, you will be alright. Don't try to talk or move, just rest. You have been badly beaten, but I won't let that happen again." She watched as the injured man considered her words then relaxed. "I am Jane."

She was Jane. He closed his eyes.

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Jane watched the man with the strange clothes from a safe distance. Sure, he was ill and incapable of hurting her, but you could never be too careful. That was one of the first lessons she had had to learn. She would care for the stranger who had invaded her world without warning as best she could, but she would watch him carefully too as his condition improved.

The man groaned. Jane moved cautiously forward and touched his face, then fell back startled when he opened his eyes. "Sick," he croaked.

Jane studied him; he was indeed paler than he had been while asleep. She moved quickly back to him and moved him gently onto his side, stroking his face and rubbing his back as he vomited. She waited until the vomiting eased then wiped his mouth.

Snape rolled back so he could look at the girl. She was watching him with pale blue eyes that tried to hide just the barest hint of fear. Surely she couldn't fear him, surely not? He could barely move and was in no fit state to hurt anyone.

"I'm Severus Snape. Are you Jane?" Snape was unsure if her name was Jane or if it had simply come to him in a dream.

The girl nodded. "Yes."

"Jane, where are we?"

"London."

London! Gods! He was hundreds of miles from the safety of Hogwarts, with no effective method of getting back there. "How long have I been here?"

"Nearly four weeks."

Snape looked up, shocked. "Four weeks?"

The girl nodded. "Nearly. For the first week you didn't wake up. I thought you would die."

Snape nodded. He still thought it was a possibility. It would be a certainty if the Death Eaters managed to find him before he got back to Hogwarts.

"After that you drifted in and out of consciousness, but still weren't too with it."

Snape nodded at the information. He remembered so much, but he realised that most of it must have been the dreams of a tormented mind. All he could remember for certain was this girl. Jane. She had cared for him. He would remember her gentle fingers and soothing words. Yes, she had been real, the pain had been real, but the continued torture had probably been a figment of his imagination. He closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.

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He woke up startled to find a body curled up beside him. He stiffened involuntarily and the small body stirred, sighed and rolled around. Snape found a dirty face and two clear blue eyes looking at him sleepily. Jane.

"You woke me up," the young girls' sleepy voice accused.

Snape thought she sounded even younger as she was, somewhere between asleep and awake. "Sorry," he apologised, abashed.

Jane shook her head. "No, I'm sorry for using you as a pillow, but you were shivering so much last night I was worried you would get sicker." More awake now, she pulled away quickly.

Snape watched the girl, standing nervously just beyond reach. "Thank you then." She looked stiff and uncomfortable, eyes drooping with sleep. "I'm still cold now," he added as an invitation.

She looked at him suspiciously.

"Really," he added.

She relaxed and nodded. Moving back to him she laid down, pulling the blanket back up, and curled into his body. "It snowed. I guess it is January, so that's no surprise. I'm sorry I can't give you more blankets," she apologised guiltily.

Snape felt the girl's shoulders shaking. She was crying at her perceived inadequacy. "Don't cry child. You have done more to care for me than I deserve." Uncomfortably, unused to consoling children, especially young girls, he put his arm around the child and joined her in sleep.

When he awoke again he was disappointed to find himself alone. He looked around, trying to better gauge his surroundings. He was obviously in some type of disused warehouse. There were a couple of boxes against a wall and an old mattress, nothing that would be of any real use if the Death Eaters managed to track him down, not that his body was behaving itself at the moment. He closed his eyes and hoped that if they did come, their retribution would be quick. He doubted it would be merciful.

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Snape awoke to see the girl watching him. He watched her in turn. She sat peacefully against the wall, knees up under her chin. He couldn't believe a child could sit so still, he recognised the self-control and wondered how she had gained it so young - he had been much older.

Snape knew she had seen him watching her, yet she remained where she was, silent and waiting, not acknowledging him. She waited, and her eyes showed just the slightest hint of amusement. He realised that he would stay completely still, saying nothing, until she chose to change. She wouldn't be forced into any action, not by him, not by anyone else. Perhaps speaking would shock her into action, he tried to speak but his throat was dry and no words came out.

Seeing him struggle Jane chose to react, moving swiftly and silently to a box by the wall. She brought back a bottle. Kneeling by him Jane reached behind his shoulders and helped him sit up a little, offering him the bottle. Sitting brought a whole new world of pain and Snape's world spun. Jane waited calmly, supporting him until his breathing steadied, "Drink."

Snape took the bottle in shaking hands and raised it to his lips. Taking a mouthful he nearly choked, causing himself to cough. It wasn't pleasant, coughing still hurt.

Jane waited and watched patiently while he regained control. The coughing left him feeling pained and exhausted, and she remained beside him, supporting him as he recovered.

Fully aware for the first time, Snape was shocked to realise how fragile she was, he could feel the bones of her ribcage through the clothes she wore. Surprised, he wondered how she managed to maintain such control and why those boys had been scared off so quickly by her arrival.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"That's ok."

Snape looked at her closely. "Why do you help me?" He turned his attention back to the bottle, not wanting to pressure her into an answer she didn't want to give. He took a small mouthful with more success.

"I had to," she answered solemnly. "I don't know how you got here, but I had to because this is my place and you are here. I couldn't let Adam kill you, not like that, not in my place. I would have lost face."

Snape considered her answer, knowing perhaps that she wasn't being entirely honest. Before he had time to ask another question, she continued quietly. He was surprised by her words and wondered what had happened to her before she became the child she was now.

"Perhaps it is because I have nothing and with you here I have a reason for being here too."

Her words were quiet and she didn't look at him. Snape realised that this was the real reason - he provided companionship and a reason to continue fighting in a world where every small gain was the result of a huge battle. He could see moistness in her eyes and was almost pleasantly surprised to find she could still cry. Only her Herculean self control stopped the tears from leaking from her eyes.

She moved from his side. "Are you hungry? Do you think you could eat something?"

Snape hadn't thought about food, and hadn't been hungry until she had mentioned it, or perhaps it was the water reawakening his stomach. Now he was famished. "I am starving but I don't know if I can eat." Hungry as he was, he was reluctant to eat in case it caused him to be ill again.

Mind filled as it was, with his own concerns, Snape didn't notice the girl stiffen.

Starving, he was starving! So was she, literally. It was winter and food was hard to come by. Jane looked longingly at the small loaf of bread she had managed to acquire before it had ended up in the rubbish. With care, she knew she could make it last a week, possibly longer. Feeding Severus she knew it would barely last a day once his body grew accustomed to eating again. She sighed, there was no choice - he would need to food to rebuild his strength. Only then would he be safe, only then would she be released from the role of nursemaid and guardian.

Picking up the bread, she moved back to him. He looked better, a bit at least. Kneeling down again, she handed him the loaf. "Eat slowly." She didn't add that it was all the food there was. "You haven't eaten in a while."

Snape took the bread gratefully. He was so hungry that anything would have been appetising. He pulled a small piece off and placed it in his mouth, chewing it somewhat tentatively as he again became accustomed to the feel of food in his mouth. It tasted wonderful. Mustering all the self-control he had learned over the years, he chewed slowly, savouring the taste and texture of the bread before swallowing it. He took another piece from the end and repeated the process, then stopped and waited. The last thing he wanted was to make himself sick.

Jane watched, encouragingly, glad he was aware of his own limits. She might not have let Adam kill him, but if he scoffed that whole loaf down then threw it up again, Adam wouldn't have to, she would do it herself. She watched as he took a third piece of bread in his elegant fingers and placed it in his mouth, his dark eyes not leaving her. Although she still new nothing more of him than his name, she no longer feared him. "Who's Voldemort?"

"How do you know about Voldemort?" he enquired as casually as he could manage.

Jane realised that the question had agitated her patient and she wondered why. He was now tense, his hands were trembling and the bread sat forgotten on the blanket in front of him. She quickly reached out and held them in her own. "I'm sorry, it doesn't matter. You said the name in your sleep that's all. I was just wondering if he was a friend."

Snape shook his head, relaxing a little, he wasn't aware that he talked in his sleep, but anything was possible after his most recent punishment. "Sorry I overreacted but the question surprised me. Voldemort is nobody's friend. He's evil, pure evil."

Jane nodded accepting his answer. "He did this to you?" she motioned towards the damage done to his body.

"What your friends didn't do, yes, and more. He's very dangerous."

Jane looked at him, serious now. "If he ever tries to hurt you again, I will kill him," she pledged quietly.

Snape shuddered at her promise. She had no idea, silly child.