Rise From The Ashes

Chapter Six: Strange Combinations

Florence liked him better when he was drinking. And she had gotten used to the smell of smoke in the house. So what was the big deal? After all, she breathed so much of it in, she might as well be smoking too. So why lie? She told him the truth when he asked. She thought she was safe. He was in the happy, relaxed stage before he passed out. That should protect her from any sudden outbursts of rage.

"Come here, kid," he said lazily. He wasn't even slurring his words yet. She came over to his chair, watched as he lit up a cigarette. "Now when you're a kid," he said, "it's very natural to be curious. To investigate things. To experiment with them." He puffed thoughtfully, inhaled, and then blew the smoke out into her face. She couldn't help but cough a little. He smiled slightly. "Hold out your arm, kid." She obeyed. "But the thing is he," he continued, contemplating the cigarette with droopy, red-rimmed eyes, "some of those things can be dangerous. Some of those things can hurt you."

It all happened too fast. His grip on her arm was so strong. She had no time to react, to pull away. She squirmed helplessly, trying unsuccessfully to hold back her tears as he put the cigarette out on her arm. It was humiliating.

"Now," he said, leaning closer to her, "I don't suppose you still want to 'bum a smoke,' do you kid?"

"No," she whispered, as the hot tears streaked down her dirty face.

"Good." He took the cigarette away and smiled at her. "Never forget it, kid. I'm in charge around here."

Florence felt the fury boil up inside her. The familiar, protective anger that engulfed her like a warm blanket whenever she felt threatened. He hadn't hit her. In fact, he had never hit her. She could take being beaten. But she could not take defeat. He had actually managed to make her cry. She had liked him more than the others. She really had. But that night, she had been so mad, she'd wished him dead.

And then he was.

Florence never understood how it happened, but it did. She was eight years old, and she was a murderer.

Florence's wand shook in her hand. She felt sick. No, no, no! Think of something happy. Think of laughing with Severus at Lily Evans. The look on her face... "Expecto Patronum!"

A silvery cloud shot out of her wand. For a brief instant, the Dementor seemed to hesitate. Florence felt her heart leap. But it didn't last for long. Her Patronus wasn't strong enough. The cloud dissipated, and the Dementor was headed right for her. She gripped the front of her desk to keep from falling as Severus step in front of her, shielding her from the horrid thing. Then she heard "Expecto Patronum!" again. It was the last thing she remembered before she collapsed into unconsciousness, back into the nightmarish memories of her childhood.

"Professor, I really don't think they should be disturbed. They've both been through a very traumatic experience, and -"

"I realize that, Poppy. I have no wish to make their ordeal any worse, believe me. But this is very important. A Dementor was able to enter the school grounds, unauthorized, and nearly attack one of the staff before we finally noticed. We need to know exactly what happened. We need to get the information from them while the memories are still fresh in their minds ... unpleasant as those memories may be."

Florence's eyes flew open, and she sat straight up in the hospital wing's bed. Glancing beside her, she saw that Severus had also been awoken by the conversation. They exchanged questioning glances with each other.

"What happened?" Florence asked.

Both Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore turned, looking surprised to see her awake. The Headmaster looked at Pomfrey imploringly. She could tell by her expression that the woman didn't like the idea of leaving her patients alone, but she nodded her head in silent assent and strode away. Florence waited as Dumbledore cleared his throat, seeming almost awkward.

"Let me say first that I am very glad to see you - both of you - awake an apparently unharmed. That is an excellent question you have just asked, Florence. Most unfortunately, I have no answer to it. In fact, I was going to ask you the very same thing."

"Headmaster ... have you any idea how a Dementor could've gotten into the school? Surely the Ministry would never allow-"

Dumbledore put up his hand. "I have contacted the Ministry by emergency owl, Severus. I received a very hastily scribbled note from Fudge himself. He assured me that the Ministry had no one of the Dementors would come here, and is launching an investigation into the matter as we speak. Perhaps the one good thing that will come out of this awful incident will be for him to be shaken out of his complacency. Now, I realize both of you have been through quite an ordeal, but it is imperative that we -"

Before he could even finish, the two teachers started talking, their voices overlapping and their words mingling incoherently in the small room. Dumbledore listened for a time, then held up his hand again. "Yes, yes, I see," he said, with a rather wry smile. "Now, if I could hear that again, slower, and one at a time, if you please."

Several minutes later, when they had recounted the situation to Dumbledore as precisely as they could, Madame Pomfrey bustled back in. "I'm sorry, sir, I know this is important, but I must insist that my patients get some rest."

"Of course, Poppy. I believe we are finished for now. And I expect the two of you to make a full recovery. Florence, my dear," he turned to hear, his blue eyes regretful, "it seems your second introduction to Hogwarts was doomed to be as unpleasant as your first. I am so sorry."

For the first time since that afternoon, Florence attempted a smile. "I wasn't frightened away from here the first time, Headmaster," she said, "and I was only a child then. I'll be damned if anyone scares me away now. I'm not that easy to get rid of. I may not be a Gryffindor, but that doesn't mean I believe in fear."

She was glad to see him smile. "I've never doubted that, Florence. Your strength of spirit impressed me from the very first time we met, and it's grown right along with the rest of you. Now, if you will excuse me, I believe the student body has some extremely frayed nerves that are waiting to be soothed."

After he left, Madame Pomfrey tried unsuccessfully to force-feed them both chocolate. Then she stormed off in a huff, as though their refusal of treatment had been a personal insult. After a moment of tense silence, Severus gingerly eased himself out of the hospital bed and walked unsteadily over to her, pulling out a small crystal goblet from within his robes.

"Drink this," he said simply. Florence eyed the potion, frowning thoughtfully.

"Let me guess," she said at last. "Chocolate extract and Phoenix tears?"

"Yes." His lips quirked in the briefest hint of a smile. "With one or two simple augmenting ingredients. But be forewarned, the taste is not pleasant." His gaze shifted away from hers. "It's strange," he mused, "that two substances so perfectly inoffensive on their own can be so bitter when combined."

Florence stared at him.

"I said drink it, damn you," he muttered, and thrust the goblet into her hands. She had experimented with her own version of this potion herself, but had not yet had the opportunity to try it out. She supposed now was as good a time as any. She stifled her gag reflex as the potion went like a jagged knife down her throat. He had made quite an understatement; it was vile. But as soon as she finished it, she began to feel warmth, both emotional and physical, spread throughout her body, along with a renewed sense of strength and well-being. She watched as he took out a similar goblet and downed it himself, wincing at the taste as she had. His color (such as it was) improved almost immediately, although the deep circles under his eyes that she had noticed earlier were still there.

"Thank you," She said softly. He nodded, and then turned back to his own bed. Both of them were far too tired to talk or even think about all the things that just happened. At almost the exact same moment, they both dropped off to sleep.

"Well ... at least we won't have potions tomorrow."

Ron's weak attempt at humor fell flat. Hermione gave him a don't-joke-about-things-like-that look before she went off to coddle her jittery batch of first-years. Harry avoided his gaze, looking several shades paler than he had the day before. "Sorry."

"Huh? Oh, that. Forget it." He watched as his friend attempted a smile; it looked more like a grimace. Ron could tell that Dumbledore's words of reassurance had done very little to comfort Harry. He felt pretty unnerved himself, so he could only imagine how his friend must feel. One thing was for sure; this year had not gotten off to a good start.

They walked the rest of the way from the Great Hall to the Gryffindor Tower in silence. They entered the common room, where some of the students were already gathered. A few were whispering anxiously amongst themselves, but the level of noise was far below normal. The two boys stood there, surveying the scene in silence, and Ron felt the distance grow between them. "Harry..."

"What?"

"D'you..." Ron hesitated. He had been going to say D'you want to talk about it, but that sounded too.... too touchy-feely, too emotional, like something Hermione might say. "D'you wanna play a game of exploding snap?"

"Erm... how about something a little quieter?" Harry asked, glancing around almost-silent common room. "Chess?"

"Okay. I've been looking forward to beating you, anyway." He got a smile for that. Small, but it looked more genuine.

As they played, Ron felt his attention drift back to another friend: Luna. Thinking of chess always made him think of her. He wondered how she was handling all this ... on top of everything else. After overhearing Snape and Riordan, he dashed over to Gryffindor Tower, intending to send Pig over to Luna with a letter. But whatever would he write? Hi Luna, sorry to hear your dad died, want a game of chess tonight? He just couldn't do it. And then Neville had come into the common room, tripping over the portrait hole in his fear and haste. Shaking from head to foot, he had given Ron and the others a stuttering, incomplete account of what had happened, his clearest statement being that they were all to assemble in the Great Hall. Ron had admired how calmly Hermione had handled the situation; she had been firm with the younger students, but also gentle and reassuring. Ron wasn't sure he could have done the same, had he been in her place.

Starting out of his reverie, Ron frowned. Harry had just captured his knight. "You're not letting me win, are you?"

"No way." Ron set his mouth in a determined line as he contemplated the positions remaining pieces on the board. Now was not a time when he felt like losing a chess game. To anyone. Except maybe Luna, if it would make her smile.

He still had to talk to her.

For a moment, Florence couldn't recall why she was here, in this narrow bed in the hospital wing. Then the memories of yesterday came rushing back; her weak Patronus, he collapse, the imprisonment in her own memories ... she shook herself, trying to cast off the lingering feelings of unease. Wait a minute ...what day is it? Damn. "I'm supposed to be teaching class!"

"So am I." Came a dry voice beside her. She looked up to see Severus standing by his bed. He had drained a glass of water left by his beside, although the food on the plate next to it looked untouched. "You can try to leave if you like, but I doubt Madam Pomfrey will allow you to go anywhere. I had quite a time convincing her I was fit enough to stand on my own two feet. Of course, I wanted to teach my classes, but she seems to draw the line at letting her patients get on with their lives. I must say, I did come rather close to hexing her."

Florence made a frustrated noise. She might have found that last bit funny at some other time, but not now. She didn't want her students thinking she was some weak little fainting flower who couldn't handle anything on her own. This was not a good way to build her reputation.

"Damn her." Glancing to her side, Florence saw she also had a plate by her bed. She eyed the food on it with distaste, but she still wolfed it down. Ever since childhood, she had had an iron stomach. She had yet to face a situation that could spoil her appetite.

She could feel his eyes on her as she hate, but she chose to ignore them. The first order of business was getting food into her body, so she would have the energy to yell at Pomfrey, and, if necessary, curse her way out of the hospital wing. "I see your appetite can still be as voracious as it was back in our school days."

Unabashedly using the back of her hand as a napkin, Florence looked up. He had that same small ghost of a smile on his face again. "I think you will find I have changed very little since then."

His eyes dropped, and Florence felt a pang of regret. She had never been good at making friends, then or now. And they had been the best of friends for seven years. If only ....

Florence shook her head. Now was not the time to think on these things. Glancing at her robes to make sure she was adequately covered, Florence tossed the covers of her bed aside and eased herself onto the floor. Hm, the ground seems a bit unstable ... dammit! She felt herself slipping.

"Easy ... easy!" He had grabbed her around the waist to keep her from falling. Her hands grasped instinctively at his shoulders. They stared at each other. Then, Madam Pomfrey came.

Wonderful. Perfect. This day just keeps getting better and better. Of all the times to lose her balance ...

"Ahem ... excuse me." The older woman made a great show of clearing her throat. "But I don't think either of you should be walking about just yet."

She seemed amused by their predicament. Florence gave her a scowl, one that she hoped would wipe that smug, knowing little smile off her face.

"I have classes to teach -"

"They've been canceled. By the Headmaster. Ah, here he is, he can tell you himself."

He hastily released her as Dumbledore came in. She sat back down on the bed, her arms folded across her chest. She gave Severus a black look, but the wrath in it was not directed at him. He nodded in silent assent, and shrugged, as if to say, What can we do?

"I am glad to see you both look better than when I left you," he said his blue eyes twinkling pleasantly at both of them. "I realize you are both anxious to return to your teaching duties, but I feel one more day of rest would be wise. Besides," he continued, as both professors started to protest, "I doubt you'd be able to get much teaching done in your classes today. Your students would keep interrupting you with questions about what happened."

He had a point. Florence bit her lip, and Snape nodded grudgingly. "I haven't received any more news from the Ministry, but I will let both of you know the moment that I do. Now, please try not to give Poppy too much trouble." He smiled. "Oh, and Florence," he added. "If I could have a private word with you. I will be brief," he added, anticipating the nurse's protest. She sighed, but nodded in resignation. She followed Severus as he walked out of the room - still a bit unsteadily, she noticed. It was then that she realized she had been holding him up as much as he had her. The Dementor had affected them both very strongly. Perhaps it was because of the close proximity in such a small space.

She turned to Dumbledore, who was looking at her thoughtfully. "Facing a Dementor is a trial for anyone," he said softly, "but it is even more of an ordeal for those have suffered greatly in their lives, as Severus and you have." She looked away. If there was a point to this little chat, she hoped he would get to it quickly. He should know by now that she wasn't the emotional type. "Do you know that Severus cannot conjure the Patronus charm?"

"What?" He had her full attention now. "But ... after I tried .... I heard him say it .... and then when we woke up here, I assumed he must have -"

"Naturally. But we found you soon after the Dementor got into the castle. I heard him say the words as I was rushing down the hall, but there was no sign of a Patronus when we got there, not even an indistinct cloud. I conjured my own Patronus before the Dementor touched either of you. I was not surprised that his attempt failed. Severus is a very capable wizard, highly skilled, but he has never been able to manage that charm. And he knows it."

Florence felt her mouth fall open as she took in what Dumbledore was saying. "You mean he ... just put himself in front of me like that, when he couldn't even ... why..."

"I will let you draw your own conclusions on that, my dear. And ... I realize you resent my meddling, but it pains me to see the two of you holding each other at such a distance. As I recall, the ... friendship you two shared in your school days seemed to be a source of strength and happiness for both of you. It is sad to think you could never renew that bond."

And with that, he turned and strode out of the hospital wing, leaving Florence to collapse back on her bed, with a mind full of those damned mixed emotions and complicated thoughts.