Summoned

Chapter 36: Room 417

"You can't kid me! The asylum, that's where you're from, isn't it?"

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince

August 8, 1995, afternoon

It was odd, Remus thought, walking through the corridor, that he was here today. Again. He had come by each of the last two days, at least once, even though he knew his visits were not remembered. And even though he found himself making excuse after excuse to Sirius to explain his "errands" away from Grimmauld Place.

Although everyone who had been there two nights ago knew Severus Snape had been taken to St. Mungo's after his collapse at the end of the meeting, no one but Lupin, Minerva McGonagall and Dumbledore knew Snape had been admitted and was still there.

As he knocked on, and then opened, the door to Room 417, a pair of semi-conscious black eyes stared at him from the bed. Remus smiled and entered the room quietly and slowly. Yesterday he had moved too loudly and too quickly and Severus had had a startling reaction he didn't wanted repeated.

"Severus," he greeted, his voice low. He let the door hiss shut behind him and took the wooden chair next to the hospital bed. Severus was propped up on pillows, the back of the bed elevated. Severus' eyes followed him through the room and locked on him as he sat down. The werewolf reached out and took his hand, something he'd done yesterday when the first hint of consciousness had glistened behind the vacant eyes.

"How do you feel?"

Severus stared at him, but after a few seconds, it became apparent that he didn't recognize his visitor after all. Remus swallowed the sudden thickness in his throat and let go of the cold, unresponsive fingers.

"Well, let's see. What's new? We've got four days until Harry's hearing at the Ministry," Remus said, ignoring the fact that the Potions master probably had no idea what he was talking about. "I'm pretty nervous, but if anyone can pull this off it'll be Harry and Dumbledore. - Course, Harry's much happier now that he's with us. Not being kept completely in the dark any longer. Not locked up in his aunt's house. And Sirius is just itching to tell him everything."

Severus blinked and scowled and his lips parted. "Harry?" he whispered, his voice cracking.

"Yes, Harry. You remember Harry? Harry Potter?"

Severus' eyebrows drew together into a thin, angry line. "Potter."

Remus grinned. "Do you - do you remember me, Severus?"

The man worked his lips for several seconds, then shook his head, frustrated. Remus bit his lip. "Well, don't worry. You will."

"Why - am I - here?" the man gasped. It was difficult for him to talk, and Healer Galena had explained that it was because of the number of Memory Charms they were placing. Not only did the Charms hide the painfully destructive memories that had overcome him, but because of the way the brain worked, they often had physical side-effects as well. His speech was off, it was harder for him to form words, to arrange them.

Yesterday, when Remus had come by, one of the apprentices had been helping Severus eat: Snape's hands had been shaking so badly that he couldn't get the food to his mouth. That, too, the apprentice had explained, was a side-effect of the Charms.

"It's not as if you can just find a memory and excise it, like a boil or - or tear it out like a page in a book. Though some people think they can do that. But every memory is tied to other memories, and some of those memories include things like how to put sentences together or how to get your fingers to clasp a fork and knife."

"Is it permanent?" Remus asked, imagining a terrifying image of Severus trapped in an uncontrollable body at St. Mungo's for the rest of his life.

"No. In fact, once the Charms settle in, the brain will redirect the memories he needs to function. He'll be fine, he'll be back to work in a couple weeks, probably."

But today, the power of speech seemed much harder than it had been yesterday. "You've been ill," he told Severus, the same answer he'd given him yesterday.

As he wondered whether he should stay much longer, Healer Galena came in.

"Ah, Mr. Lupin. Back again?"

He smiled a little embarrassed: what would the rest of the Order say if they knew he was spending so much time here? It didn't bear contemplating.

"How is he?" he asked, forgetting for a second that Severus was able to hear and probably understand the question today.

"We placed two more Charms this morning," the woman said. She had a cup of something steaming in her hand and she gave it to Severus. "Here you are, Professor."

Severus tried to take the cup, but again his hand was shaking. Without thinking, Remus reached out and wrapped his hand around Snape's, steadying it, and he helped guide the cup to his lips so he could drink.

"What is this?" Lupin asked, surprised at Severus' apparent compliance.

"Corydalis Yanhusuo, a mild hypnotic and a pain-killer," the Healer answered, watching the professor carefully. "We put it in hot chocolate - the taste is terrible otherwise! It helps numb the pain when we place the Charms." After Severus had drunk the potion, Remus put the cup on a nearby table.

"You're going to put another one on? Now?"

"In a few minutes, yes. You'll have to leave."

He nodded, but as he stood, Severus grabbed his wrist and his lips moved for several seconds until the word, "Stay," was croaked out.

Lupin felt something slide through his stomach like a sword of ice and he glanced at the Healer for a reaction. She had, he noticed, very firm eyes behind her green-rimmed spectacles, but there was, as there was with Dumbledore's, a kind of gentleness as well.

"Professor Snape, it's better if there are no distractions," she said, moving forward and prying his fingers from Remus' arm. "If you'd like to wait, it won't take more than a few minutes," she said.

"No," Severus forced out. His eyes began to look desperate. The empty, vacuous look was replaced with fear: and Remus had a sense that, despite the potion he'd just drunk, he was aware enough of what was coming to know it wasn't going to be pleasant.

"Lu-pin," he groaned: apparently he was remembering. "Stay." But not everything.

Galena sighed and shrugged. "If you want to," she told the visitor. "But you need to be completely silent. You cannot interfere or interrupt the process."

He didn't like the sound of that.

"I'll wait outside," he said quietly, and then reached down once more and put his hand on Severus'. "I'll come back in when-"

"Please."

Oh, bloody hell! He glanced at Galena, half hoping that she would forbid it, and knowing that she wouldn't.

"I'll stay," he agreed. "Where should I..."

"You can sit there," the Healer motioned him back to his chair and it was only as he tried to get comfortable that he realized Severus had his hand in a grip so tight his fingers were already losing circulation.

He looked at the professor, but Galena had Severus' attention now. His eyes were beginning to lose focus, and Galena was standing very close to the head of the bed. She had a wand out, and was aiming it.

"Alright, Professor, just relax. Remember: try to keep eye contact as long as you can. - Ready?"

There was no response that Lupin could detect. And then, in the next second, Severus winced and his eyes twitched as if he desperately wanted to close them and was using all his strength not to. His body became rigid, his hands clenched and Remus felt the man's untrimmed nails dig into his own flesh and he stifled a gasp at the strength of the man's grip.

And then Severus cried out and shut his eyes and his body went limp. He was gasping as if he'd run from Hagrid's hut to the castle, and he was sweating and groaning. He didn't open his eyes and Remus turned to the Healer.

She put a hand out to keep him from speaking, and nodded a reassurance, but said nothing. It took about two minutes, but Severus finally opened his eyes. They were filled with tears and he wouldn't look at either of them.

It was, Remus thought, much the same as sitting through Sirius' nightmares. He gave Severus' hand a quick, reassuring grasp, then tried to pull away. But Severus just held tighter, and then he faced the Healer again.

"Ready?" she whispered. Again, Remus detected no answer, but the same spasms followed as she aimed her wand, and he watched the man fight desperately to keep his eyes open, to hold her gaze, and he wondered what memories he was reliving this time, what horrors the Healer was hiding away.

It happened twice more, but the whole thing took less than fifteen minutes. When they were done, Severus was drenched with sweat, the bedclothes were soaked, and he lay panting and moaning quietly, his eyes closed, his head tossing slowly on the pillow.

Galena snapped her fingers and a very young apprentice, identifiable by the green sash with the St. Mungo's logo on it that was draped over his shoulder, appeared at the door. He had a small, wiry frame, and large, almost elfish eyes. And he appeared in the room much the way a house-elf would: he was just suddenly there!

"Ready, Healer?"

"Yes, thank you, Parton." The apprentice looked as if he had only just turned 17, the legal age, and his skinny face was covered with pimples. But he had a nice smile and he carried a large bowl, almost as large as Dumbledore's Pensieve, to the side of the bed. He had towels draped over one arm and when he put the bowl down, he tried to inch Remus out of the way.

"Sorry, let me get-" He tried to get up, but there was a death-grip on his hand. He looked at Severus, whose gaze was a bit glassy, but whose fingers had not released him. "Severus, I need to get out of the way..."

Severus would not let go. Lupin turned to the boy and noticed that Galena was watching with some amusement. "Professor," she said, addressing her patient, "Parton is here to get you changed and freshened up. You need to let go of Mr. Lupin."

Looking at it as an outsider, Remus thought, the scene would probably be amusing. The boy was obviously used to his routine, and Remus was in the way. But Severus, who was just beginning to catch his breath, would not let go of Lupin's hand.

"Okay, Severus, here, just - here, try - let go, take -" He finally managed to clamber over to the other side of the bed and switched which hand was being held, without actually letting go of Severus at any point. Now that he was on the opposite side of the bed, he levitated the chair over so he could sit there while the boy moistened the smaller towels and began his routine.

"Mr. Lupin, if you have any problems, let Parton know. He'll come get me." He nodded.

The boy unbuttoned his patient's pajama shirt and pulled it off - again, another bizarre manipulation was needed to keep from breaking Severus' desperate grasp on his hand - and began to wash the man as if he had no magical abilities at all.

Remus said nothing for a few seconds, just watching as the boy heated the water in the bowl with his wand, then used the towels and cloths to wipe the perspiration from Severus' body.

"Can't you - why don't you just use a spell?" Lupin asked, mystified by the manual routine.

"Actually," the boy said, his voice low and soothing, "this is part of the therapy. Tactus Curiatus," he explained. "Healing Touch. We could just wave a wand and clean him up in a few seconds, but when the mind is attacked - even when the purpose is helpful - it sends signals to the body that create physical pain. Tactus Curiatus reduces that."

Severus was definitely losing his ability to focus, Remus saw, and as he seemed to fight sleep or unconsciousness, his grip began to loosen, and then to tighten again, as if he were afraid Remus would pull away.

It took him a few seconds to get the courage, but the boy seemed dedicated and gentle and so, finally, Remus whispered, "So - is his holding onto me like this - I mean, is it - does it help?"

The boy smiled and nodded. "You must be a good friend," Parton muttered. He was turning the professor over to wash his back and Severus' fingers began to relax and he started to breathe more slowly, more deeply.

"Actually I'm not-"

"People are very interesting, you know," the young man continued, and Remus had a feeling he'd opened a topic he wasn't sure he'd wanted to. "With these treatments - we don't do these very much, you know, not much call for it - but since the mind is so damaged, anything pleasant that can compensate for it is more important than it would normally be."

Severus' fingers relaxed and slipped away and Remus leaned across the bed. "Can I help?" he asked. The boy looked up and grinned.

"Well, there's a technique to it," he said.

"I suppose I could learn?"

When Severus woke an hour later, Remus was still there. The moment Snape opened his eyes, he looked at him and his gaze focused on him with recognition this time.

"Lu-pin," he murmured.

The werewolf smiled and took Snape's hand. "Feeling better?" he asked. He wrapped his fingers around Snape's, and the Slytherin closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

* * * August 9, 1995

Every nook and cranny in the Black house was fair game: Molly Weasley was organizing cleaning and decontamination details for every room, happily putting the children - and Fred and George - to work throughout the days. Remus did his share, of course, but he spent a lot of time with Sirius as well, though his friend's mood was darkening by the day.

Part of it, Remus knew, was the confinement. He was as much a prisoner here as he had ever been at Azkaban, and even having Harry around hadn't improved his mood much. There were moments when his old friend seemed a bit cheery, especially at dinner, but Remus knew that most of that cheer was put on for the sake of those in the room.

Sirius spent a lot of time on his own, in his mother's old bedroom, with Buckbeak his only company. Remus tried to make himself available when Sirius seemed interested in his company, and certainly there were more nights than not when the werewolf found himself in the room that, inhabited by a hippogriff, seemed cramped; when the night memories overcame Sirius and only the comfort of a human voice, and sometimes a human touch, could break through the dementors' legacy.

"What are you doing every afternoon, anyway?" Sirius asked him that night at the dinner table. He had been escaping and returning with just a word of, "Got to run a quick errand," since Severus had been admitted, but tonight, with the question hitting him point-blank and a roomful of people waiting for an answer, he fell back on the excuse he'd come up with this afternoon.

"The person who's been making my Wolfsbane Potion isn't going to be available for a while. So I'm looking for someone else to do it for me."

The rest of those at the table made little noises and went back to their individual conversations. Sirius narrowed his dark eyes and said, "I hope you're not thinking of asking Snape! He still blames you for his own stupid error with that Weakening Solution. He'd probably put in an overdose of hellebore!"

The vehemence of his words, and their tone, dampened the other chatting at the table. Even Fred and George turned to their end of the room and stopped their gleeful description of some new gag they'd been part of.

"Don't worry, I won't ask him," he said quietly. He went back to the roast and potatoes on his plate and Arthur started a new conversation about regurgitating toilets, which Molly quickly objected to, and all the small discussions began again.

The next morning, as Remus prepared for his trip to the hospital, Sirius caught him on his way out. "Where are you looking for this miracle potion maker anyway?"

"St. Mungo's," Remus said. "I'm supposed to meet someone there this morning to discuss it."

Sirius nodded, the kind of nod that said he didn't believe a word of what Lupin had just told him. But he let the man go without any further questions.

Today, Dumbledore was there as well, and as he walked into Room 417, Severus' two Healers were standing at the bedside and the Headmaster was watching from halfway across the room. They all turned when the door opened, and Remus felt a thickness in the air that bespoke a very bad moment to have arrived.

"I'll - just wait-"

"No, come in, Remus, come in," Dumbledore said, his smiling greeting and beckoning arm impossible to disobey. "Perhaps you can talk some sense into him."

Remus glanced at the Potions master, but the man was simply glaring at Dumbledore. Not knowing exactly what battle was being fought, Remus had a very strong urge to escape. He seriously doubted he could have any salutary effect on the situation - whatever the situation was.

"Professor Snape," Galena began, "is feeling a little too good for his own good. He's refusing to let us continue the treatment."

Severus turned his glare from Dumbledore to the Healer. "I - am - fine. - Let - me go!" It was obvious that he was struggling to put the words together.

"Fine" wasn't a word Remus could ascribe to the man right now. "Severus," he said quietly, "there's still more to be done. - Look, it's been a hell of summer. Let them help as much as they can. You don't want to see - him until you've got all your strength, do you?"

And then it dawned on him, as Severus turned a puzzled gaze on him, that the man didn't recognize him. "Who - are you?" he demanded angrily, as if just noticing him.

That caught everyone's attention. Dumbledore looked from Remus to Galena and then to Healer Smethwyck, before turning back to Severus.

"I - Remus Lupin. I was here yesterday, Severus. Don't you remember?"

Severus stared and stared and finally, after nearly a minute, it seemed he realized that he had lost his battle to be released: everyone in the room recognized this man, and he did not. He shook his head slowly, his now-desperate gaze trapping Lupin.

"We - worked together," Remus offered, deciding that reminding him of their more recent history might be better than bringing up the undoubtedly painful past.

"We've had to place a couple Charms around those memories," Galena explained, looking from Remus to her patient. "There were some unexpected - associations that needed to be blocked."

What in Merlin's name did that mean? Remus wondered nervously. Unexpected associations? He shot a glance at Galen, then at Smethwyck, but neither of them would return the look.

Remus stood where he was and Dumbledore took a step closer to his Potions master. "Once you remember the people in your life, Severus, we'll have this discussion again. Until then, you have the choice of being cooperative or being forced. I strongly suggest you cooperate. We still don't know how soon Voldemort is going to expect your - services again."

Snape winced at the use of Voldemort's name, but other than that he just stared into the room, defeated.

Dumbledore and Healer Smethwyck, apparently satisfied with their victory, left the room. Galena put a hand on Severus' shoulder and said, "I'll be back in an hour." Then she turned to Remus. "Could you come with me, please?"

He didn't feel he had a choice, but he paused long enough to give Severus a reassuring glance, which Snape returned with a furious glower.

"I'd like to talk with you in my office, if you all have the time?" she asked. Smethwyck and Dumbledore had waited in the hall and the four of them went down to her cramped, six-walled office where she served tea and biscuits and began to smoke the long, ornate pipe she kept with her almost always.

"He's getting much better," she began as they prepared their tea. "By the time a patient begins to refuse therapy, he's definitely made progress. Once he begins threatening us with deadly curses if we try to help him, he'll be almost ready for release."

Remus chuckled and Dumbledore's eyes twinkled a bit, but Galena seemed quite serious. In fact, as she stirred her tea, she looked at them across her desk and said, "I'm quite serious.

"But until then..." She sipped her tea, smoked a bit from her pipe and then glanced at Smethwyck, who was picking currants from his biscuit putting them into his cup of tea. "Until then, Professor," she said, addressing Dumbledore, "his care is still at our discretion, since he was admitted involuntarily."

The phrase made Remus' stomach churn a bit, but he managed to drink some tea anyway.

"He seems, when he remembers you at all, to be quite fond of you, Mr. Lupin," she said, catching him off guard.

"Oh, uh, no, I wouldn't -"

"He responds very well to your visits," she plodded ahead, and he blushed under Dumbledore's curious - amused? - gaze. He hadn't mentioned his visits to the Headmaster: there'd been no reason to.

"Uh, he - no, er, he didn't even remember me-"

"Mr. Lupin," Healer Smethwyck said, and he turned to the man across the sitting area. "He found great comfort in your presence yesterday. Now, I would say that's a good sign that he's -"

"No, that's not a good sign at all!" Remus jumped in. He plopped his cup on the tea table and leaned forward, glancing quickly at Dumbledore for help. "Severus and I are not friends! We aren't - I just came by - he wouldn't want-"

But Dumbledore just smiled and Remus felt himself to be utterly lost.

"Professor Lupin," the Headmaster said, addressing Galena, but tearing his eyes from Remus only slowly, "and Professor Snape have a complicated history. However, in the past several weeks, they have created a kind of - workable truce."

"Snape doesn't have friends!" Remus exclaimed. He was feeling a growing premonition of some awful future in which Severus learned that Lupin had been aware of yet more of his weaknesses; had been party to his treatment; had been around when Severus had had little or no awareness of his own actions.

He thought he would rather face Voldemort.

"But he has you, Remus," Dumbledore said quietly, the humor gone from his eyes.

"My question for you," Galena said, as the wispy, blue smoke began to fill the room, "is whether you would be willing to be part of his healing process. If you are willing to work as part of this team to get him back to complete health."

He shook his head adamantly. "Look, I'm concerned for him, yes. But if he ever thought that I'd-"

"Come to see him every day?" Galena finished his sentence for him. "Just be a regular presence until he's released. Someone he can count on showing up. - Can you do that, Professor Lupin?"

Gargoyles and boggarts! He sighed heavily and glanced at Dumbledore. "Yes."

"Good!" Galena clapped her hands. "Then we have our treatment team. Except - where's Parton?" she asked, turning to her colleague.

Smethwyck looked around the room, as if he thought the boy might be hiding there in plain sight. "He was told about our meeting," he said, and Remus glanced at Dumbledore: this had seemed to be an impromptu gathering... Dumbledore didn't meet his eyes.

As the silence grew to encompass enough time for someone to fill it, there was a sudden "pop" in the room and the apprentice appeared, as he had in Severus' room yesterday, apparently Apparating into the room.

But this time the boy had nothing in his arms, he was breathless, and he glanced around the room quickly before turning his large eyes on Galena. "Healer Galen," he said, "he's gone! Professor Snape is gone!"

* * *

While Galena Galen and Hippocrates Smethwyck alerted the staff and scoured the six floors of St. Mungo's for Severus Snape, Remus took advantage of the situation to talk with Dumbledore, who was looking quite as exhausted as he could remember having ever seen the Headmaster.

"Have you heard anything from Hagrid?"

Dumbledore, as the door closed behind the medical personnel, shook his head. "How is Harry doing?"

Remus was able to reassure him on that point, and then the conversation turned back to the Potions master. "You've been here every day," Dumbledore said and Remus sighed.

"He's not going to appreciate finding out that I've been hovering around here!"

"We'll worry about what he appreciates once he's able to appreciate anything." The Headmaster glanced at the closed door, then pulled out his wand and the lock squished with a Sealing Charm. "Remus, Severus has to be well enough to teach this term. The Ministry is preparing legislation that will give them the official powers they need to appoint my instructors. If I lose Severus... I can't lose him! Professor Grubbly-Plank is filling in for Hagrid, but I know Fudge is going to try to undermine my choice there. And once Harry's hearing is over, he'll be making his decision about who he's going to appoint to the D.A.D.A. position."

He took off his spectacles and rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. "I've already been demoted from Chief Wizard of the Wizengamot. Fudge is paranoid that I'm trying to take his position."

Remus nodded. "I understand, but I don't think I should be too involved-"

Dumbledore put his spectacles on and looked down over the tops of the half-moons. "He trusts you, Remus. He may or may not like you, but right now, he trusts you. Please. For my sake: be there for him."

The search of the hospital proved fruitless. Severus Snape had managed to escape, but even as Remus thought that word, all its connotations flooded his mind and he struggled with a sense of foreboding and helplessness. His mind reeled with images of Sirius in the dark, horrible cell in Azkaban, of Severus in the same type of cell as a child, and of his own monthly "imprisonments" in the Shrieking Shack...

While the search continued, he did, as he had told Sirius, ask about someone to make his Wolfsbane Potion for him this month, explaining the situation to Healer Smethwyck once their search of the hospital had been completed. He recommended another healer who worked there.

"Lycanthos Leviticus," he said, writing the name on a scrap of parchment. "He's a werewolf himself and he spent a number of years at Azkaban, working on altered mental states. I'm sure he'll do it for you."

Remus wasn't sure he liked that recommendation, but it was the only one he had, and he did need someone to make the Potion this month: even if Severus were released by then, he doubted Snape's abilities would be sharp enough to handle a potion that tricky.

He stayed at the hospital until nearly dusk, and by then he realized they had no hope of finding Severus that night. Dumbledore only left when Smethwyck and Galena both assured him they would notify him the instant they found Severus.

Once Dumbledore left, Remus went back to Sirius' home, armed with just enough proof of his lie to convince his old friend that he'd been at St. Mungo's for his own needs.

But what he found when he got to number twelve, Grimmauld Place, was not at all what he had expected.

The night had just begun.