A Reflection of Himself

Hagrid had just finished putting all his magical creatures to bed, tucking them in all nicely and everything, when he was settling into his favorite chair by the fire to nurse a cup of tea, Fang by his side, when he thought he heard something - or more likely someone - outside.

"Did yeh hear tha'?" he asked Fang, whose ears had perked up just seconds ago at the noise.

Fang released a low whimper.

"Ah, yer a scaredy-dog, tha's wha' yeh are," he mumbled to Fang. Standing up and grabbing his umbrella-disguised wand, Hagrid made for the door. "I'll go check it ou'... wha'ever it is."

Hagrid pushed open his door and stepped out into the darkness. Off in the distance, he could see the lights of the castle, but his eyes were busy scanning nearby for the source of whatever - or whoever - had made that noise.

Taking a few more steps, Hagrid asked loudly, "Who's ou' there? Show yerself!"

Nothing.

Hagrid now muttered Lumos and used the light of his wand to guide him. As he walked along, he kept his eyes mostly on the forest, thinking that to be the most logical place to look. When he didn't see anything, he was just about to turn back when his boot suddenly rubbed against something on the ground.

"Wha' the- ?" Leaning down on his massive knees, Hagrid lowered his wand to get a better glimpse at what was lying at his feet. When his eyes came upon the face of the person, he gasped, his eyes growing huge in size, and exclaimed, panicked, "Oh, bloody hell! Professor... Professor Snape, wake up! Can yeh hear me?" He gently shook Snape's unconscious body, but he didn't wake up. Hagrid noticed how cold to the touch he felt and could easily see that the poor man had been beaten within inches of his life.

Hagrid fumbled, trying to find a pulse. Thankfully, it was there, albeit it weak. Knowing what he had to do, Hagrid lifted Snape up very easily and began carrying the bloodied professor to the castle. The whole way, Hagrid murmured, "Don' worry, sir. I'll get yeh ter Madam Pomfrey. She'll know wha' ter go with yeh. Yeh'll be fine 'gain in no time."

Hagrid finally entered Hogwarts through the main doors, glad for the late hour, meaning that no one would be in the halls to be asking questions or giving strange looks. The half-giant was in quite a hurry as he made his way through the corridors and up the stairs to the infirmary, but the moment he entered the infirmary, he began calling for Madam Pomfrey.

"Madam Pomfrey!" he bellowed, his voice strained and worried. "Get ou' here! There's an emergency!"

Madam Pomfrey, dressed in her nightgown, came through a door off the infirmary, which Hagrid knew led to her private quarters. She always had to be nearby in case of an emergency like this one. The moment she laid eyes on Snape's battered body, she gasped, but then said sternly, trying to stay calm, "Put him down on this bed right here. There, there... gently, now."

While she fussed over Hagrid's ability to be gentle, which was really quite silly, for he was gentler than most people, Hagrid gingerly laid Snape's body on the white-linen covered bed. He stepped back, unable to keep the tears from welling up in his eyes. "Is he gonna be okay?" he asked.

"I've dealt with Severus many times before," Pomfrey insisted, although, in her heart, she knew that he had never returned from a meeting in this horrible of a condition before. "I need to tend to him. Hagrid, go to the fireplace and notify Albus immediately."

Hagrid sniffed and nodded, going to the fireplace like an obedient child, and threw a large handful of Floo powder into the grate, calling, "Dumbledore's quarters!"

Dumbledore had been just settling in for the night, thinking that the hour had grown too late for Snape to be reporting to him that night. He could tell by the tone of Hagrid's voice that something was terribly wrong. "Yes, Hagrid?" he inquired, keeping his voice passive. "What is it?"

"It's Professor Snape, sir. He's been... hurt. Bad."

Dumbledore felt his stomach flop, but he remained visibly calm. "I'm coming." He stepped through and appeared in the infirmary.

Dumbledore immediately was standing near Snape's side, watching Madam Pomfrey as she worked on stabilizing his condition. After she placed a statis spell on him, she began to first remove his clothes to see where all the wounds were located and then began cleaning the wounds on his skin. The smaller ones were practically repaired and vanished within a matter of a few seconds, but there were deeper cuts and severe bruises and burnt markings that required more attention. Both Dumbledore and Hagrid kept silent while she worked, knowing that the mediwitch would need full concentration during the process.

"He's mostly mended up," she finally announced, "with the exception of a few broken ribs and arm. He'll need to drink down a glass of Skele-Gro, which I'm sure he won't like."

"When will he wake up, Poppy?" Dumbledore asked.

"I'll be a while. I'll have to give him the potion while he's still asleep, as well as a sleeping draught. He needs the rest now more than anything. He needs to stay in this bed for the rest of the week."

Dumbledore smiled weakly, shaking his head. "Oh, I'm sure he won't like that. I can cover his classes for him."

Pomfrey chuckled sadly, shaking her head as well. "Oh, Severus... what have they done to you now?" A lone tear ran down her cheek.

Dumbledore gently patted her on her back. "There, there, Poppy. He'll pull through yet, just you wait. He's a stubborn enough man, after all." Dumbledore's attempt at trying to lighten the mood was effective enough to cause her to laugh a little. She straighened herself up and worked on finishing up with Snape, and Dumbledore left her to do what she needed as he spoke with Hagrid.

"Thank you for bringing him in, Hagrid," he said sincerely. "How did you find him, anyway?"

"I was in me house when I thought I heard somethin', so I went outside to invest'gate and stumpled upon him. He was just lyin' there, very cold and lifeless. Was- was there a meetin' tonight, Professor?"

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "Yes, there was. Now that I think of it, Mr. Malfoy hasn't shown up. Strange."

"Maybe he went ter bed?" Hagrid suggested, shrugging.

"Perhaps," Dumbledore replied, not convinced. "I think I will check the castle. Perhaps you could check the grounds, Hagrid, just in case. I'll also alert the other teachers as to what has happened. Severus will not be waking up anytime too soon to be able to tell us anything."

"All right, sir," Hagrid replied dutifully, ever ready to help Dumbledore in any way that he could.

Hagrid left the infirmary, leaving Dumbledore turning back toward Pomfrey as she finished up the last of the spells she needed to perform on Snape's sleeping form. "Thank you, Poppy," he said earnestly. "I really don't know what we would do without you." He gave her a small smile.

Madam Pomfrey just returned the smile, but her heart wasn't in it. Over the years, she had seen Snape in bad conditions many times, but this time, she wondered why Voldemort simply had not killed the poor man. It seemed like he had intended to do so... or at least torment him almost to the point of death, which was in reality worse.

"He's a horrible monster," she said aggressively between clenched teeth. "How could he do this to him?"

Dumbledore came to stand right next to the bed and placed a gnarled, age-spotted hand on Snape's now warm hand. "You know he would harm anyone to get what he wants," Dumbledore murmured, regarding his former-pupil, his colleague, his friend. "Voldemort shows no mercy."

Madam Pomfrey flinched a bit at the name, but didn't say anything more about the Dark Lord. "I just wish this whole... thing... was over."

"So do I, Poppy; so do I," Dumbledore agreed softly. "Sometimes, especially at times like this, I fear I won't be able to look into Severus's eyes without feeling the guilt of what I have placed upon him."

"But he choose-" Pomfrey started to say.

"Yes, yes, I know," Dumbledore affably interrupted, "but that does not change how I feel. That was many years ago when he first came to me and turned himself over to my devices, and there has been a change in him over those years. To many, it would appear he has grown colder and put up a harder, thicker wall to the world, but no, Poppy... I do not believe that for a moment. This man," he gestured toward Snape's strangely serene face, "has been to hell and back, and he's been broken time and time again, but he never lets himself break completely. He would hate me for saying it, but his courage and loyalty certainly rivals that of most Gryffindors I have known."

Pomfrey released a single laugh at Dumbledore's remark, saying, "If only he could hear you now..."

"I would rather he yell at me for comparing him to a Gryffindor than be left lying here helplessly like this," Dumbledore murmured, frowning, "but enough talk for tonight. You need your rest, and I must check with the other teachers and check the castle regarding Draco Malfoy. Good night, Poppy."

"Good night, Albus." She lowered the lighting until it was nearly competely dark and left the room.

Before Dumbledore turned to exit, he delicately squeezed the younger man's hand and whispered, "Good night, son."

Dumbledore checked the Slytherin dormitories himself immediately after having notified the other professors about Snape and Draco. Their concerned faces made it clear that they, too, were very worried about both Slytherins. Despite whatever the general consensus was of Slytherins among the other houses, the truth was that no one, despite their background, deserved to be treated so vilely by Voldemort, Death Eater or not.

When Dumbledore had no luck finding Draco, he met up with the other teachers back in his office. It was three in the morning. Then, Hagrid came bursting into the office, and in his arms...

"I found him lyin' near the forest," he said in a choked voice. "He's... dead."

Professors McGonagall and Sprout gasped. Even though Draco Malfoy had been a thorn in their sides throughout the years, seeing his corpse hanging lifelessly in Hagrid's huge arms was, well, unnerving and heart-wrenching. They simply couldn't believe what their eyes were so plainly seeing.

"Oh, dear," Dumbledore said, shaking his head. He approached Hagrid, who lowered his arms enough for Dumbledore to look into Draco's still-open eyes. His pale grey eyes stared back, lifeless, seemingly-looking past Dumbledore and everyone in the room. With a steady hand, Dumbledore reached up and amiably closed Draco's eyes.

"Lay him down here," Dumbledore said, gesturing toward a couch. "I will notify his mother in the morning. She deserves at least a couple more hours of settled sleep before she finds out that her only son is dead."

With nothing else to say or do, the professors quietly left Dumbledore's office, leaving the old wizard alone with the body. Whenever he lost a student, it hit him hard, even though Dumbledore didn't openly show it in front of others. As the Headmaster, he had to remain visibly strong, but now, he felt like a helpless child, despite his century and a half of life.

"I'm sorry, my boy," Dumbledore murmured. "You were brave, braver than most would have even given you credit for, including myself. I admit that I underestimated you even a few months ago when you said you would give yourself to the cause of good... I'm just so regretful that it took the loss of your life for this old fool to realize just what you were willing to sacrifice for the side of Light. Rest now, Draco."

Draco was not at rest, though. He was just the opposite - a very restless ghost. At first, he thought himself losing his mind. At first, he had not realized he was really dead. Then, he had seen his body, but still - was it just a mere dream?

No.

Draco had tried to call after Snape as he took his body away, and in frustration, Draco realized that Snape couldn't hear him. He then knew he had a decision to make. Did he move on, or did he choose to stay?

He choose to stay.

After laughing in the irony of the whole situation, how Voldemort thought himself rid of Draco Malfoy forever, Draco stopped the insane laughter and gathered his bearings. Being a ghost would certainly take its getting used to. He floated through the air, not feeling the coldness or the wind. Very strange.

He knew where he had to go. Hogwarts. He supposed he could still apparate... or disappear and reappear elsewhere as a ghost would. And so he did.

When he found himself in the halls of the castle, though, Draco fondly realized that the wards didn't prevent ghosts from appearing in the castle.

How very convenient, he thought. His first inclination was to give Potter a good scare, but then, Draco realized that Snape had nearly died that night. A trip to the infirmary would be in order.

Floating through walls and ceilings and floors, Draco made his way to the infirmary much quicker than he would have had he been alive. Upon his arrival, he saw Snape lying in a bed, apparently asleep. He looked stable and like he had gotten the proper care he would have so desperately needed.

Draco perched himself on the footboard, intently studying his professor. He wondered if he would still have to attend class. After all, Binns, as a ghost, still taught class. He also wondered if he could still spy... As a ghost spy, the possibilities seemed much better. Voldemort couldn't kill someone already dead, now could he? Draco smirked.

While Draco quietly watched Snape as he slept, Snape suddenly felt like he was falling. Apparently the sleeping draught was not strong enough, for his sleeping had not been that deep, and it had been plagued with nightmares. Also, Snape's skin crawled at the coldness he could feel radiating from Draco's ghost. With a start, his eyes shot open, and he found himself looking directly into the face of Draco Malfoy. Snape turned just a white as the ghostly Draco and began stuttering incoherent nonsense.

"But you're- you're- you're supposed to be- How- ?" Snape closed his eyes tightly and opened them again, but Draco was still there.

"Hello, sir," Draco said benignly. "Feeling better?"

Snape made a strangled noise.

"Hush up!" Draco hissed. "Do you want to wake the whole castle? I'm a ghost, all right? See? You can see right through me."

Snape studied Draco skeptically and found that he could, indeed, see right through him. "But... last time I saw you..."

"Yes, I know... I was as cold as that monster who did this to me."

"It's not funny, Draco," Snape scowled.

"I'm not laughing," Draco replied. "Besides, you're the one who should be concerned. No offense, but you look a right mess, sir."

"Hmph, thanks a lot," Snape mumbled. Then, the realization of what he had felt earlier when he had been left alone with Draco's body came back to haunt him. "I'm sorry, Draco..."

"Oh, stop it," Draco sighed. "It's not your fault, Professor. You should be resting, not looking to start arguments with me."

Snape was too tired to argue further. He reluctantly nodded and closed his eyes.