Whatever I've done

Whatever I've done

Part Three

by

Logospilgrim

Rated R (some violence).

Disclaimer: I'm only playing with J.K. Rowling's wonderful toys. I promise I won't break them, or leave them out in the rain.

Join us again for another chapter of "Hogwarts General Hospital" ;-)

"Yes, sir. Everyone knows."

Snape closed his eyes. "Good." He paused and said, "Mr. Moorland, I assume you are aware of the fact that a number of Slytherins are being courted by the Dark Lord. That many are tempted to receive the Dark Mark."

"Yes, sir."

"How many of them are now questioning the wisdom of such a choice?"

"A few. Especially those who... those who have always looked up to you, Professor."

Snape's brow knotted, and he hissed softly. "Which ones."

"Sir? Professor Snape, are you all right?"

"Names..."

Moorland glanced over his shoulder at Pomfrey; she moved closer.

"Some Slytherins have overheard Draco Malfoy say he was prepared to defy his father," Moorland told Snape. "He's trying to convince others to imitate him."

"I want Draco to... come and see me as... as soon as-"

"Lads, the professor needs to rest up a bit now," Pomfrey said, brandishing her wand.

"No, Draco m- must come to me, now." Snape paled even more and held his breath.

"Severus, what's wrong?" the mediwitch asked.

"The Mark... it's burning, Voldemort... trying to..."

Pomfrey muttered a spell and held her wand to her throat. "Headmaster, Professor McGonagall, emergency in the Hospital Wing!" She turned to the two Slytherin boys and said, "Go. Go."

The younger Slytherin nodded, but the other hesitated and lingered near the door.

"Mr. Moorland, there's nothing you can do to help," Pomfrey said. "Go back to your common room at once."

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," he said with a curt tilt of the head, and left.

The mediwitch ran her wand over the Potions Master. "Severus, how bad is it? Dolorosa reducio." Hurry up, Albus...

"You won't get them... torture me all you want, but I... I won't let you... touch them, you soulless- Ah!" A dark red stain appeared on the bandage wrapped around Snape's forearm, and kept growing larger by the second.

"Dolorosa reducio," Pomfrey said, knowing full well that the charm was next to useless. "Accio bandages!"

Snape's tense features were bathed in sweat. "Bastard... damn you..." Again he cried out in pain. "You won't stop me! I swear it! I'll... I'll be in agony for the rest of my life if that's what it takes!"

"Severus, try to stay calm," Pomfrey said. She lifted his arm and wrapped more gauze around the blood-drenched limb. "Albus and Minerva are on their way."

The words had barely left her mouth that Dumbledore and McGonagall raced into the room.

"The Dark Mark," Pomfrey said. "It's-"

"Take those bandages off his arm," McGonagall said.

"What?" the mediwitch said.

"I believe I've found a spell that will work," McGonagall said, "but I'll have to touch the Mark with the tip of my wand."

"No, too... too dangerous..." Snape said between gasps.

"It's not permanent, but it will stop the pain completely, at least for a while," McGonagall said, pushing back her sleeves.

"No... no..."

"You have to trust her, Severus," Dumbledore said. "Or the spell won't work, and Minerva may be seriously hurt in the process."

"This is madness... won't allow it..."

"Severus?" McGonagall said, her wand at the ready.

"Minerva, don't..."

"Maledictis-"

A fresh wave of pain drowned his senses, and he capitulated. "I trust you."

"-va de retro."

The instant McGonagall's wand grazed Snape's Dark Mark, a pale blue flash of light blinded everyone present; it then coalesced around the Potions Master's arm, quickly turned to silver, and enveloped his limb from hand to elbow like a knight's steel glove.

For a moment, no one spoke; there was only the sound of Snape's breath growing calmer. He gazed at the silver light clasping his arm, and whispered, "I can't believe it."

"Severus," Dumbledore said, "is the pain gone?"

"Yes." He shook his head. "It's as though... I can't even remember what it ever felt like."

"Minerva, you did it!" Pomfrey said. "You have got to teach me some of those spells. I've never seen anything like this."

"I knew it would work. It had to," McGonagall said. She stared at Snape's astounded features and blinked back tears. "It had to."

Dumbledore hugged her. "Apparently, you are quite the miracle worker."

"Indeed," Snape said quietly, "I don't know what to say." His voice became even fainter. "My dear Minerva, I... I don't know how to thank you." Snape's eyelids drifted shut, and to everyone's astonishment, a small laugh escaped him. "A most... wonderful feeling. Almost like the past is over."

Then he was asleep.

"How long will it last, Minerva?" Dumbledore said.

"According to the spell book, seven hours."

"So he'll rest until at least ten," Pomfrey said. "Hopefully... Do you think He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will try again right away?"

McGonagall smirked. "I should think not. The Dark Lord will be nursing a rather excruciating headache for a while. I suspect he'll be more hesitant about summoning our Severus from now on."

"Very, very well done, Minerva," Dumbledore said, and hugged her again. "I do believe we shall have to upgrade our curriculum to include a course on the forgotten teachings of St. Mungo."

"One for the students... and one for the staff," Pomfrey said. "In the meantime, we all need a bite to eat, and a little rest too."

"Splendid idea," Dumbledore said. "Especially you, Minerva. Are you all right?"

"Yes, just tired. Nothing a cup of tea and a short nap won't cure."

"A cup of tea, and a large piece of cake, my dear," Dumbledore said. "And then, a long nap."

She shook her head. "I want to be here when Severus awakes."

"Plenty of time for a few hours' rest," Dumbledore said, grasping her elbow and guiding her out of the room. "You wouldn't want Severus to see you with dark circles under your eyes, would you?"

"Albus! Honestly."

****

"I should be angry at you right now," Snape said softly. "Taking such a reckless gamble on my miserable behalf."

"I am simply beside myself with fear," McGonagall said, and put another pillow behind his head. "How's that?"

"Very comfortable." He sank deeper into the mound of pillows and exhaled.

"Is your arm bothering you at all?"

"No." He looked at her and cocked his dark eyebrow. "I will never say the words 'foolish wand-waving' again."

"Speaking of reckless gambles," she said with a smile.

"All I seem to be doing lately is thanking you. It doesn't seem adequate in comparison with what you've done for me."

"Trust me, Severus, your increasing levels of geniality are more than enough."

"I don't have much else to give, and that may be why I've been making an... effort. I assure you that beneath this innocuous facade, I am as unpleasant as ever."

"Dear me. And to think that the entire student body of Hogwarts is clamoring to visit you."

"Really." He sighed. "I suppose there's no avoiding it."

"Oh, come now, Severus. It won't be so terrible. You're just going to have to get used to being seen as a hero, which at any rate you are."

Eventually he shrugged and met her twinkling gaze. "Well... perhaps."

"I'm positive you'll get used to it sooner or later."

"They really... want to see me? I find that most hard to belie-"

"That does it, Professor Snape. Let me convince you, once and for all, that you are not the evil Potions Master you made yourself out to be. Everyone knows it, except you, obviously." She rose and made her way towards the door. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Where-"

"I won't be long."

"That woman'll be the death of me," he said, mumbling the words, and hovered between sleep and wakefulness as he waited for McGonagall to return.

Then he felt someone sitting down on the edge of the bed and opened his eyes. "Minerva. You startled me."

"I'm sorry, Severus. But look at what I've brought you." She was holding a stone bowl filled with a substance like liquid silver.

"Albus's pensieve? What on earth for?"

"Just look."

He peered at the bowl's swirling contents, and a succession of images began to materialize and collapse upon themselves. Students, in his class, Slytherins and Gryffindors, arguing about who would get to see him first. Potter, weeping in Albus's office, begging him to help the Potions Master. The Great Hall filled with young witches and wizards hanging their heads in shame when informed that their most hated teacher was really a spy for the forces of good, who'd had their best intentions at heart all these years.

"That's enough," Snape said. "Minerva, enough..."

McGonagall set the pensieve on the bedside table and gazed at Snape. "Well?"

"What do you want from me?" He sighed. "I don't even know who I am anymore. And I'm too tired to... think about all this."

"Of course. It's getting late, time to sleep," McGonagall said, and straightened his blankets.

"You'll be there... when those blasted visits begin?"

"Would you like me to be?"

"Minerva... come on, dammit..."

"I'm just teasing you, you know very well that I'll be there. Now get some sleep. Does anything hurt?"

"My hands are sore," Snape said softly. "My back, my knees... ankles..."

McGonagall took out her wand, but then Snape said, "No... I think all this... wand magic... is starting to give me headaches..."

She frowned. "I was afraid that would happen. Perhaps we'll try not to use charms as often, wait until night comes and make sure you can at least sleep quietly."

"All right..."

McGonagall whispered a spell, put a cold compress on his forehead, and dabbed a little peppermint oil under his nose. "There. How do you feel?"

Snape took a deep breath and said, "Oh, that's nice. Good idea... the peppermint. Head doesn't feel so tight."

"Thank you, Severus. You just lie still."

He nodded once, and murmured, "Draco... send him to me first."

****

The next morning, Pomfrey was patting the sheen of sweat on Snape's face with a cool cloth, and tut-tutting. "I should cancel those visits. He's not well enough-"

"It's not that bad," Snape said. "Let them come. It'll keep my mind off it."

"Minerva, I can't imagine you agree with this," Pomfrey said.

"I think he may be right."

The mediwitch rolled her eyes. "I've heard everything now."

"Don't worry. I'll make certain he doesn't overextend himself," McGonagall.

It was Snape's turn to roll his eyes. "I'd like to remind you both that I'm still in the room."

"Are you sure you're up to it?" McGonagall said.

"Yes, yes. I've been tortured by Voldemort on a regular basis for the past twenty years, I think I can handle visits from a few students, not to mention students from my own house."

"If you say so, professor," Pomfrey said. She went to the door and said, "All right, children, Professor Snape will see you now-"

A resounding cheer echoed from the hallway.

"Quiet! May I remind you that the professor is still not fully recovered!" Pomfrey said, shouting them down. "Now. You will be allowed to come in two at a time, and I want to hear the sound of silence from the rest of you while you're waiting your turn, is that clear?"

The Slytherins grumbled.

"Draco first," Snape told McGonagall. "Get Draco. I must speak with him."

The Transfiguration Professor walked to the door, whispered in Pomfrey's ear, then went to fetch the boy from the seemingly endless queue of Slytherins.

"Professor Snape has requested to see you first," McGonagall told Draco.

Draco nodded and followed her into the Hospital Ward.

"Go ahead, Draco," McGonagall said, gesturing towards Snape's bed.

The blond Slytherin approached and paled slightly when he saw his Head of House, who was in obvious pain.

"Professor, I... you said you wanted to see me."

"Draco, is it true, what I've been told -that you won't take the Mark?"

"Yes, sir."

"You cannot go home. You must remain at Hogwarts until the Headmaster makes the appropriate arrangements. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. I'm very proud of you, and I want to encourage you to continue what you've been doing. Try to convince as many of your peers as you can to turn their backs on the Dark Lord."

"Thank you, professor. I will do my best."

"Remember, I will always be there to help you. I know that it's not an easy thing, to change one's ways, but you must never give up."

"Yes, Professor Snape."

Snape looked at the silver package in Draco's hands. "What have you brought me then?"

Draco smiled. "It's... shall I unwrap it for you now, sir?"

"I would like that."

Draco tore the wrapping from the present and held out a black velvet robe embroidered with emerald serpents. "What do you think, professor?"

"As usual, Mr. Malfoy, your taste is the essence of Slytherin refinement."

"Thank you, professor," Draco said. "I knew you'd like it." He lay the robe at the foot of the bed and said, "We miss you. Please, get well soon, professor."

"I will also do my best, Draco."

"Well, goodbye, sir. I hope we'll be able to see you at the End of Year Ball."

Snape's lips twitched.

****

Two hours later, Snape's eyelids started drifting shut, and his hair was moist with sweat.

"He's exhausted," Pomfrey told McGonagall. "That's enough for today."

"No, it doesn't matter," Snape said. "If the whole of Hogwarts wants to see me... as you purport... there won't be enough time... at this rate..."

"Be reasonable," McGonagall said. "Do you want to have a relapse?"

"Don't turn them away," Snape said. "So what if I'm not awake... The first years'll be... less unnerved..."

Pomfrey snorted and jerked her head towards the mountain of packages in front of the bed. "I think this gift procession is starting to grow on him, if you want my opinion."

Snape looked at McGonagall. "My joints are killing me. Just... let them come, let them... talk to me... maybe I'll fall asleep if... if they keep distracting me... They won't mind... will they?"

"Of course not, Severus. I'm sure they'll be glad to know they've helped somehow," McGonagall said.

"Maybe a spell," Pomfrey said.

Snape blanched. "Not yet... later..."

"Let's do what he asks," McGonagall said. "I think it'd be the best solution."

Pomfrey huffed, but then she relented. "I suppose you're right. Just tell the children to be extra quiet when the stubborn man does fall asleep."

McGonagall went to the hallway where the students were anxiously waiting to see their Potions Master.

"Professor McGonagall, is it going to be much longer 'til we can see him?" some of the Slytherins at the back of the row called out.

McGonagall put her finger in front of her lips. "Children, Professor Snape is not feeling very well-"

A hushed sound of disappointment travelled along the row.

"But," McGonagall said, "he still wants you to come and visit him. Now, I want each of you to speak quietly to the professor, and help him to go to sleep. Do I have your word of honor?"

"Yes, Professor McGonagall," they whispered.

"Very good. Go on," she told the two Slytherins who were standing next to the doorway, "it's your turn."

The children entered the room and Pomfrey gave them a warning look. They nodded and carefully neared Snape's bedside.

Snape opened his eyes and said, "Miss Wormwood... Miss Nightshade..."

"We... we brought you something, professor," they said, their voices warbling.

"Most kind," Snape said. "Just put it... over there." Then he gasped softly, and the girls lowered their gaze, cheeks flushed, lips quivering.

"It's all right... it's all right," Snape said. "I'll be... I'll be fine in a moment. So tell me... how is the Headmaster... at potions then?"

****

Later that afternoon, the Slytherin table was surrounded on all sides by Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs who were listening with rapt attention to the latest news about their Potions Master.

"He's still... he's not well yet," Draco said. "But he's Professor Snape. He'll be better soon."

"Was he happy to see you?" a Hufflepuff asked.

"Of course he was," Draco said. "He's our Head of House, you idiot."

"We heard that he was in too much pain to sleep," Hermione said. "How can that be? Isn't he being given potions?"

"Remember, when we went to the Hospital Wing to give him your get-well card," Harry said. "The potions weren't working."

"That had to be temporary," Hermione said. "Whoever heard of potions not working?"

"The Dreamless Sleep potion didn't work on me that one time, when You-Know-Who was making me dream of Professor Snape," Harry said, and repressed a shudder.

"Hey, Ferret Face! Did you see Madam Pomfrey giving the professor any potions while you were there?" Ron asked Draco.

"Bugger off, Slug Breath. Why should I tell you anything about Professor Snape? You're the one who goes around calling him a greasy git all the time."

"I said I was sorry about that-" Ron said, even though he was still nervous at the thought of facing a conscious Potions Master.

"Draco, did Madam Pomfrey give the professor any potions at all?" Hermione said.

Draco looked at her through narrowed eyes, then he frowned. "I don't think so."

"When we saw him, he looked like he was hurting a lot," a Slytherin girl said.

"I don't understand why he's not being given potions to numb the pain," Hermione said.

From the expression on her face, Harry and Ron could tell that she was already going through piles of books in the library.

"Was he... was he in a bad mood?" Neville said with a hesitant voice.

"Was he... was he in a bad mood?" Draco said, imitating the cowering Gryffindor. "I'm sure the moment he sees you, he will be, Longbottom."

There was a cough from the Head Table.

"Children, dinner is about to start," Dumbledore said. "Why don't you all return to your respective tables, and after dessert I'll tell you about Professor Snape and how much he's looking forward to your visits."

The students promptly obeyed, and ate as fast as they could without choking. They then waited in anxious silence for the teachers to finish their own meals; finally the Headmaster rose and cleared his throat.

"I'm pleased to tell you that Professor Snape was most cheered by the sight of his beloved Slytherins today. He also wished to let them know how touched he was by all the gifts he received."

The Slytherins fairly glowed.

"Also... Yes, Miss Granger?"

Hermione lowered her hand and said, "Headmaster, we were wondering why it is that Professor Snape hasn't been given any potions for his pain."

"Ah. Yes. Well, Miss Granger, I'm afraid that as a result of the Dark Lord's curses, Professor Snape is no longer responsive to potions."

The students gasped.

"We have had recourse to wand magic, but its repeated use is beginning to have adverse effects on your Potions Master. As the Slytherins know, he requested that visitations should not be interrupted because your presence was calming him. I should therefore like to press upon the rest of you how much your visits mean to Professor Snape."

As Ron, Harry and Hermione were making their way back to their common room, Ron said, "Did -did Dumbledore actually say that Snape finds us... relaxing?"

"I can't believe Professor Snape isn't able to take potions anymore," Hermione said. "Something unspeakable must have caused it. Some sort of dark magic no one's heard of until now."

"Except for Voldemort," Harry said.

"Snape... wants to see us," Ron said, paying no heed to Harry's use of the dreaded name. "Either the wizarding world's gone mad, or I have."

They reached the Gryffindor common room and settled in their favorite corner.

"But it's not like Professor Snape hasn't been tortured before," Hermione said after they'd sat in silence for a while. "He couldn't move his hands either, remember? He probably still can't. It's like Voldemort had the power to take away what Professor Snape loved most."

Harry's throat clenched. "It has something to do with me. I know it."

"Harry, you're not being rational," Hermione said. "The only place we'll get any answers is the Restricted Section of the library."

"Invisibility Cloak," Harry said.

"Right, let's get into trouble or something. I can handle that," Ron said.

****

The Gryffindor trio, huddled together between two tall bookcases, had been going through one thick grimoire after another, stopping only to yawn or jump at strange noises, when a small sound of victory escaped Hermione's lips.

"Here, that's it! I think I've found what we're looking for!" She pointed at a water stained page in the book on her lap.

"What is it? Where?" Harry said, his eyes darting from one side of the page to the other.

"Here, the part about the rebirth of a dark wizard. 'The power of the enemy's hatred will rekindle hatred's power.'"

"Huh?" Ron said.

"Look. Here is the ritual that Pettigrew performed to bring the Dark Lord back to life. What it says, basically, is that Harry's hatred for Voldemort was the most important aspect of it," Hermione said.

"And this means..." Harry said.

"That your hatred is the source of Voldemort's strength, because he is hatred incarnate. He feeds on it," Hermione said.

"Would you guys quit saying that name?" Ron said.

"The power of the enemy's hatred. You don't think..." Harry grew pale. "During those times Voldemort forced me to dream about what he was doing to the professor, he said... he told me that I hated Professor Snape. He... he said I'd dreamed about crushing him. And then he broke the professor's hands."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said.

"That was just You-Know-Who playing his sick games," Ron said. "He was the one hurting Professor Snape, not you."

"No. It all makes sense now," Harry said. He buried his face in his hands. "Voldemort coming back, what he did to Professor Snape... It's just like when Cedric died, or when mum died. It's my fault, all of it."

"Harry, listen to me. You didn't kill Cedric. You didn't kill your mum. And you will undo what Voldemort did to Professor Snape," Hermione said.

"How?"

She indicated a list further down the page. "You will brew this potion. No one else but you can do it, and no one else but you can administer it to Professor Snape."

****

The cat that lay asleep next to the Potions Master suddenly opened its eyes. It turned its head and stared at the slumbering man's face, its ears pricked up.

He moaned.

It jumped off the bed and was instantly replaced by Professor Minerva McGonagall, who bent over Snape and said, "Severus?"

"No... no..."

"Shhh," she said, stroking his hair.

"Albus... help me... please..."

"It's all right, Severus. Just a bad dream."

He cried out softly.

"Wake up, dear. You're safe. No one can hurt you."

"M- make it stop..." His voice grew louder and more desperate. "Stop, stop!"

"Severus-"

The Potions Master screamed.

McGonagall shook him by the shoulders. "Severus, wake up!"

The scream died in his throat as abruptly as it had begun and his eyelids fluttered. He drew in a shaky breath and tried to reach for McGonagall with his twisted hand, but he could barely lift it off the mattress. "Minerva?"

She took his hand in hers and held it against the base of her throat. "Oh, dear. You were dreaming again."

"I... I was back there. In the dark, in chains, waiting... Minerva, I thought I was going mad."

She sat on the bed and gathered his trembling form in her arms. "It's all over now."

He wept against her shoulder.

"I know, I know," she said, rocking him slightly.