Trapped

Chapter 12: Close Call

"Something wrong with Severus, Poppy?" Dumbledore asked worriedly when stepping out of the fireplace in the mediwitch's office, shortly followed by Remus Lupin.

"It's horrible. Almost as if he were under the Cruciatus. In his weakened state this might well be fatal. We must do something, if only I knew what," stammered a somewhat disheveled Madame Pomfrey as she led the two men towards the private room.

Draco was still struggling to keep the wildly thrashing and groaning Snape from falling out of the bed. The life-watch, a clock-like instrument that was standing on the nightstand monitoring the patient's vital signs, was showing a frighteningly high and irregular heart rate.

"I can't smell the unicorn blood anymore," Remus said nervously.

All of a sudden, the movement ceased and a ghostly shudder ran through the Potions master's thin frame. The life-watch gave a shrill sound of alarm as its hand jumped to the frantically flashing words at the noon position: ventricular fibrillation.

"Stand back, all of you," Dumbledore ordered with authority.

They stepped away from the bed to make room for the headmaster. An aura of power radiated from the old wizard as he placed both hands several inches above the dying man's heart, softly murmuring incantations. He knew, if he didn't manage to stop the fibrillation and coax Severus's heart into beating regularly again within the next two, three minutes, they would lose him. He concentrated hard. Finally, a bright purple light sprang forth from between Dumbledore's outstretched fingers and formed a bristling ball of energy that shot towards Severus's chest and vanished in a spark. Another purple orb formed, and another one. Dumbledore was sweating now, his brow furrowed in concentration, but he kept on chanting, and more and more light pulses emanated from his hands. Time was running out.

"It's beating again!" Madame Pomfrey suddenly exclaimed with a look at the life-watch. It showed a weak but fairly steady heartbeat. Dumbledore sent another few energy balls at his Potions master, and then collapsed into a nearby chair, brushing his sweat-dripping brow with his handkerchief.

"That was close. However, he seems to be stable now, thank Merlin," the mediwitch declared after taking a few readings of her patient, who lay motionless, his face ashen. "I better change all those bandages. He's drenched with sweat. And some of the wounds have started bleeding again." She turned to the former Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. "Are you sure you can't detect any trace of unicorn blood anymore, Mr. Lupin?"

"Positive. But it might be better to wait some hours before you give Severus any healing potions yet."

The mediwitch nodded. Her patient had lived through this major crisis, and she would be able to treat him with potions soon. It was more than she had hoped for in the first place. He would live. However, this recent episode didn't bode well.

"Headmaster, I fear Severus was subjected to excessive administration of the Cruciatus curse. This would be the only explanation for his reaction. A sudden release of residual magic after the repressing effect of the unicorn blood wore off." The mediwitch swallowed. "He might still end up at St. Mungo's."

"I know, Poppy, I know." Dumbledore sighed. He was looking older and sadder than ever. "We will find out soon enough. When he comes to." The old wizard took his sleeping friends hand gently into his own and just sat there. Severus Snape was a complicated man, and it wasn't easy to get close to him. But over the years, Dumbledore had gained his trust, and his friendship. Although they had had frequent arguments, mostly about the Boy-Who-Lived, he could rely blindly on Snape's competence and loyalty when push came to shove. The man had a brilliant mind, and, deep inside, an essentially good core. The thought of losing him to permanent insanity almost broke his heart.

"Professor," a slightly trembling voice interrupted the headmaster's bleak musings. "Professor Dumbledore, I need to talk to you. It's important." The old wizard turned around, sighing once again. Draco Malfoy was looking at him. He was very pale and obviously still in shock, but there was a strange glimmer in his eyes. He had made a decision.

"Follow me, Mr. Malfoy. My office, if you please."

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Christmas was approaching soon, but he wasn't in any Christmas spirit at all, in spite of the early snow. This would be the first Christmas he would stay at school. Not that he had to. Even with his father back in Azkaban and his mother in a sanatorium in Switzerland to recover from a nervous breakdown, he could go home and spend the holidays at Malfoy Manor. They owned a host of house elves after all. He could even invite his 'friends', Crabbe and Goyle junior. However, he hadn't hung out with them a lot these days. And he didn't feel like going home at all.

Last Sunday, the headmaster had allowed him to Floo to the Manor to see his mother after her alleged breakdown. She was a great actress when it came to causing a scene, and he hadn't believed in this breakdown for a single second. She just wanted to get away from the whole Death Eater business, and the Daily Prophet headlines. He couldn't blame her. In her current frame of mind, she even revealed to him that it had been his father who had spiked his cake with the Imperius potion. Without the Dark Lord's knowledge. It had been easy enough since it was Lucius who had been in charge of the illegal potions Snape brewed for their Master. He had explained to his wife that this was necessary to save their only son from the Dark Lord's wrath that would be inevitable if the boy refused to take part in the plot against his Head of House. And Lucius knew his son well enough to know that he would refuse. However, Draco knew better than to believe this. After his botched mission in the Ministry of Magic, the only motivation behind his father's actions had been to save his own hide and status. Presenting his son as a perfect little Death Eater was only one means to this end.

The plan had worked, too. By ingesting the potion, a telepathic link had been established between father and son, and Draco was forced to down the contents of the little vial hidden in a secret compartment in the parcel. He had changed into his nemesis, Harry Potter, and walked off into the Forbidden Forest. Lucius had correctly counted on Snape's hatred for the Boy-Who-Lived and his well known desire to get Potter expelled. The Potions master had followed him without a second thought. However, his father had made a mistake. A stupid mistake. He should have thought of obliviating Draco afterwards. This wasn't the only mistake, either. It had almost been too simple for the Aurors to track the owl he had sent to Lucius and take the fugitives by surprise in their hideout. They would rot in Azkaban, and it wouldn't be easy for the Dark Lord to break them out again. They had dragons now to guard the prison ... Draco smirked evilly at the thought. He had admired his father once; had wanted to become exactly like he was. However, he would never forgive Lucius how he had manipulated him. How he had forced him to torture the man who had been as much a father figure to him as Lucius. He had seen what it meant to be a Death Eater with his own eyes, and now he knew better than to simply imitate his father. Now he knew on which side he really was.

Deeply steeped in thought, he almost missed that somebody was calling his name.

"Draco!"

The blond Slytherin turned around.

"What do you want, Granger?" he asked coolly. He wasn't in the mood for a conversation with the annoying know-it-all just now. Probably not ever. What could she possibly want of him anyway? They had never actually talked before, only exchanged insults and hexes. He had to admit though that the Gryffindor looked truly dashing as she came running through the snow, cheeks flushed with the exercise and the cold. She stopped short in front of her classmate, slightly breathless.

"I saw you coming from the hospital wing. How is the professor?"

"And why would that interest you, Granger?"

"Do you think you are the only one who cares?" Her eyes were blazing with anger now. Hazel eyes full of intelligence and vivacity. She seemed to be genuinely worried about Professor Snape. It had been her, or rather her cat, who had found him in the first place, too.

"His wounds are healing. He's still unconscious, though."

"But it's almost been a week! He should have woken up by now." Draco nodded, and then looked to the ground. Was he blinking away tears?

"Madame Pomfrey said the coma might be a result of the Cruciatus curse. It ... it can cause damage to the nervous system and the brain. The professor might never be the same again."

This was bad news. Hermione had seen Neville's parents in the closed ward at St. Mungo's last Christmas when they had visited Ron's father. Picturing the acerbic Potions master like this was close to impossible. "I understand," she said softly, then turned around slowly and walked back to the castle.

Draco stared after his classmate for a while until he finally followed her.

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"Severus?" McGonagall asked in a quiet voice as not to scare her sick colleague. He had blinked, hadn't he? "Poppy, I think he's waking up!" Snape blinked once again, and then opened his eyes with obvious effort.

"Severus, can you hear me?" The mediwitch, who had rushed to the bed immediately, bent over her patient to get his attention. "Severus?" There was no reaction. No sign of recognition. The Potions master stared blankly at the ceiling and didn't even blink when Pomfrey moved one hand across his face repeatedly.

"He's not responding," she said sadly, then shook the man gently by his shoulder. Severus winced and clenched his eyes shut again. He started to tremble and his breathing and heart rate sped up as if in panic. The mediwitch drew back her hand.

"I'm sorry, Severus, I didn't mean to frighten you. You are safe here, nobody's going to hurt you, I promise ..." It took quite a while and many a soothing word until Snape calmed down again and only a faint quivering reminded of the incident.

"Poppy, is there any hope for Severus?" McGonagall asked quietly.

"I cannot tell for sure. But this isn't good. Not even his pupils showed any reaction." He did react to touch, though, but rather badly. No surprise after what the boy had gone through. And since he didn't seem to realize where he was nor who was with him he might well believe he was in the clutches of his torturers still. This would explain his panicky reaction. She would have to treat his wounds and wash him when he was fast asleep then, as not to scare him unnecessarily. Although his overall physical condition had improved a lot by now, thanks to the many potions she had been giving him, he was still very weak and any additional stress to his system should be avoided if possible. Luckily, most of the students had left Hogwarts just yesterday to spend the Christmas break at home. No more classes for Minerva and no more sick students for her. And less trouble for the headmaster. They would have more time to sit with Severus. The presence of people he trusted might do him well after all, even if it wasn't obvious.

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It was late on Christmas Eve and she was still sitting in the otherwise deserted library when a voice startled her from behind.

"Hermione?"

The girl looked up from the ancient tome she was skimming through, surprised at hearing Draco Malfoy use her first name.

"I ... I have something for you. Or rather for your cat, since it was he who found Professor Snape the other day." The blond Slytherin held out a small box to her. Hermione was gaping at Draco as if he had suddenly grown green and silver antlers. Or bunny ears. When she didn't take the box, he put it on the table beside the book. "Are you still reading up on unicorn blood? Have you found anything relevant?"

"No, not yet, but there just has to be something in one of these." Hermione, who had finally stopped gaping, pointed at a huge pile of books on a nearby table.

"You are going to read through all those tomes? For Professor Snape?" Draco's eyes grew wide in surprise. "Then ... why don't you let me help you? I don't have that much to do over the holidays anyway, and together we would find out more quickly ..."

Hermione's mouth dropped open. Was this really Draco Malfoy offering his help? And a present for her cat? Or had she fallen asleep over her books and was having the weirdest of dreams?

Instead of waiting for an answer, Draco took one of the heavy tomes, sat down beside her and started to read. When she, too, bent over her book again, Draco looked up and smiled, a rare genuine smile.

"Did you know that you have the most beautiful little teeth?"