Trapped

Chapter 13: Consultations and Confrontations

"Albus, we need to consult a specialist. I'm at my wit's end."

Madame Pomfrey looked down at her fitfully sleeping patient, sighing. He would wake up from time to time and open his eyes, but had not yet shown any conscious reaction. No spark of recognition or sign of lucidity. The intervals of waking - if you could call it this - had become slightly longer, but that was all the noticeable improvement of more than two weeks. The young wizard still seemed to suffer from a considerable amount of pain as well, as he often started whimpering and moaning in his sleep. The tremors and spasms hadn't ceased, either, and she was reluctant to give him strong sedatives. His organism had to cope with all too many potions already. They had devised a schedule so there would be somebody around at all times, and she had the impression that Severus was calmer when a person he trusted was talking to him, but since this came down to the ridiculously small number of three, the long vigils had drained those select few considerably. Things couldn't go on like this, not with school starting again on Monday - after the dreariest Christmas ever. Dumbledore's attempts at appearing cheerful had failed pathetically, and even tiny Professor Flitwick didn't sport his usual Christmas spirit. The few students who had remained at Hogwarts over the holidays had been unnaturally subdued, too. Harry Potter had not been among them. The boy had been allowed to spend his vacations with the Weasleys at the Burrow, after the place had been made unplottable. To everybody's surprise, Miss Granger had not joined her best friends, nor had she visited with her parents but stayed at school. She had been busy researching the properties of unicorn blood for days on end, although Remus Lupin had given up on the issue almost immediately. He had explained that if even Firenze couldn't tell, nobody could. A reasonable assumption. Nevertheless, Hermione had found quite a bit of trustworthy evidence indicating it was indeed the slaying of the unicorn, not the drinking of the blood that would draw the curse upon a person. However, knowing this was of little comfort now. If Severus was rendered permanently insane, he wouldn't be able to lead more than a half-life anyway, a half-life at St. Mungo's closed ward together with the Longbottoms and Gilderoy Lockhart. Not exactly uplifting prospects. For the first time, Draco Malfoy had spent Christmas at Hogwarts, too. He had come to visit his Head of House every day, but for some reason unknown to her, Severus didn't seem to trust his student. Whenever the boy spoke to him, the sick man winced and showed signs of panic. So, the blond Slytherin just sat there for a while, leaving as silently as he had come.

"Do you really think this is necessary, Poppy?" Dumbledore asked. However, he already knew the answer. He had chosen to close his eyes from reality all those weeks and told himself again and again that Severus would recover his mental abilities, but, as time passed by, it had become increasingly difficult to keep up the pretense.

Madame Pomfrey nodded resolutely. "Yes, Albus, it is."

"So be it then." Never had the headmaster looked so tired and downcast before. "I'll contact St. Mungo's first thing tomorrow."

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"What do you say, Doctor Hippocampus, is there any hope for Professor Snape?" Madame Pomfrey asked her colleague after he had done a thorough examination of the comatose patient.

"I hate to sound overly pessimistic, I really do. However, this is by far the worst case of Cruciatus induced insanity I have ever encountered," answered the old healer gravely, "and I have seen quite a bit both during the Grindelwald war and You-Know-Who's first reign." He was the one in charge of the Longbottoms, too. Once more, he took some readings of the sleeping wizard's cranium, and then he slowly shook his own head. "I am truly sorry, but there's not a raindrop's chance in a frying pan that he will awake from the coma. Large sections of his brain have been switched off by the intense agony from the Unforgivable, and only the most basic structures are still functioning. I fear your Professor is trapped in the memories of the torture and the pain, and it would take no less than a miracle to reverse this." Profound silence followed his devastating diagnosis. "I would strongly recommend you transfer the patient to St. Mungo's," the healer continued. "He will be cared for by experienced healers and nurses at our Institution, and you can visit whenever you wish to. It's the best for both you and your young colleague"

"We will think about it," Dumbledore answered hesitantly. "I will inform you of our decision, Doctor. And ... thank you." This then was what Voldemort had planned for the traitor. Trapped in an endless state of pain and fear inside an unresponsive body for ... years? Decades? At the same time, it also was a severe punishment for Dumbledore and everybody who cared for the boy. Having to see him suffer like this ... this was worse than death. A sudden wave of burning hatred flooded the old headmaster's soul with an intensity he had never experienced before, and hadn't thought himself capable of, either. Voldemort would pay for this. He would make him pay, even if he had to strangle the monster with his own bare hands ...

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"They said large parts of his brain were like switched off by the Cruciatus? Not destroyed or annihilated?" Hermione asked the blond Slytherin who had come up to the hospital wing to pay his daily visit to Professor Snape only to hear the healer's words of doom through the half-opened door. Draco nodded bleakly. "Then there must be a way to switch them on again," murmured the girl while biting her lips pensively. "Draco, I think it's time for some library research again. Muggle library," she added with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She would show him that Muggles weren't altogether brainless and useless ....

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"'Mione, you are not going to meet with Malfoy again?!" her redheaded friend exclaimed hotly. "I can't believe it. How many times has the arrogant git called you a mudblood, eh? Have you totally forgotten about this? This is Evil-Sneer Malfoy!"

"Calm down, Ron. We just read up on the treatment of the apallic syndrome - to help Professor Snape. My Mom sent me scads of medical books and journals, and Draco is a great help. He's rather intelligent, you know."

"What probably cannot be said of a certain carrot-head," sneered the blond Slytherin who had just come up to the Gryffindor table. "I'd assume, your head would start smoking after only half a page of 'Advances in Neuropsychology'. Not that it didn't look like burning anyway ..."

"Sod off, or I'll hex you into next week, ferret-boy!"

Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation. Those two would never get along, and between Draco and Harry, things weren't any different, even though they fought on the same side now. Just like Sirius and Snape. And she was caught in the middle ...

Draco shot one of his most arrogant glares at his rival. "You wouldn't dare, Weasel, now with Potty hanging around with this freaky Ravenclaw all the time. What was her name again? - Loony Lovegood, wasn't it? Nice couple, Crackpot Potter and Lunatic Lovegood. Bet they'll make it to the front page of Witch's Weekly when they get married - as weirdoes of the year."

Ron's face turned an ugly brick color. Malfoy had hit a nerve. His best friend was hanging around with his new - or rather first - girlfriend more than he'd like him to. Harry had even forgotten about Quidditch practice the other day! And Ron literally felt like the fifth wheel when together with them. Not that he didn't like Luna. However, it hurt to lose his best friend to a girl. And to top it all, they had fallen in love at his home, the Burrow. Luna had been invited over for the Christmas holidays after her father hadn't come back from one of his expeditions - searching for some legendary potato-eating monster in some lake in Sweden ... probably the monster wasn't a vegetarian after all. And now, his 'Mione deserted him for Draco Malfoy of all people! Things couldn't possibly get worse - yes, they could. Snape could be back teaching. Malfoy and Hermione were already working on it. And knowing Hermione, they wouldn't stop until the greasy git was back from the dead and his old malicious self again. That Snape actually would show any sign of gratitude towards his Gryffindor saviors was pretty much out of the question, Ron was sure of that. He snorted in frustration.

"I fear we won't be privy to any intelligible comment from the Weasel today. Let's go to the library, Hermione." The girl cast an apologetic glance at Ron before leaving together with her former enemy. Sometimes, she could slap Draco right in the face for his arrogance. However, during the holidays she had been surprised to find out there was a quite different side to the Slytherin, and she had liked what she had discovered. She had finally found somebody who matched her intelligence ...

Snorting once again, Ron left the Great Hall and made his way towards the Quidditch pitch to work off his boiling frustration. He would show them. He'd become the best Keeper ever in the history of the wizarding world. Since Hermione wasn't interested in Quidditch whatsoever, they probably weren't that good a match after all. - What was the name of this amazingly blond Hufflepuff Chaser again? Silene Greenleaf? He could ask her to go to Hogsmeade with him next Saturday, could he not?

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"Oh crap, this doesn't help at all. This regimen would take years, and success is rather uncertain. No more than about thirty percent of the patients do respond to the treatment, and full recovery is reported in exceptional cases only. I fear, Muggle medicine isn't any more advanced than wizarding medicine when coma patients are concerned." Hermione yawned. "I think, I'll call it a night. I'm really tired, and we haven't achieved anything all day. Again."

"Wait, Hermione, I think I found something. This here sounds interesting." Draco pointed at one of the many articles that were scattered on the table in front of him. "Seems to be a rather obscure therapy, though."

"OK, let's see, then. But that's the last one for tonight."