Slugging It Out

Chapter 15 - The Healer

After its unpromising start, the summer of Severus' 17^th year was in fact an improvement on the previous year. He recovered from his 'nervous fainting fit' with remarkable speed, finding the guilt over Happenstance receded once he was removed from Hogwarts and under the bracing influence of Lucius. Able to sleep, and eating properly again, he was able to reason his way out of it. Although the memory still caused him a twinge of conscience, he practiced shutting it down before it could bother him. It went well with his continued study of Occlumency - the art of blocking the mind to legilimency - and he began to feel in control of his psyche again.

He spent much of his time inside, reading his way through every book he could get his hands on. The wizard library on nearby Horizont Alley had a selection to rival Hogwarts', but more interesting still were some of the obscure tomes that Lucius dug out of his family library. Severus read about magic beyond his wildest dreams, illicit and enticing. He spent hours in the kitchen, brewing and re-brewing potions, experimenting and tweaking, perfecting.

Lucius breezed through every few days, immaculately dressed and full of bonhomie. He laughed at Severus' monkish existence, dragging the younger man out of the flat to buy him horribly expensive - and horrible tasting - drinks. Many of the old crew were there, Macnair and Blackwell, Rosier and Wilkes. It was almost like being back at Hogwarts in the golden days.

Over the summer, his obsession with 'dark' magic grew. Why was it that the most fascinating, most sublime, most exciting magic was considered anathema to the mainstream? Fear, was Lucius' theory. 'Not many wizards can perform this sort of magic, and that goes for all the idiots in the Ministry. So they try to stop anyone else learning it by labelling it 'dark'.' Whatever the reason was, Severus was attracted to the power and intricacy like a moth to a candle flame.

The rest of the wizarding world on the other hand, was more terrified than ever about dark magic and those shadowy proponents of it, the Death Eaters. It was beginning to seem that there was nothing that Death Eaters couldn't do. They appeared at will throughout Britain, causing mayhem and disappearing just as easily. People became obsessed with security, and in Diagon Alley the shops began to resemble small fortresses.

Hawkers of amulets to ward off dark spells popped up all over the place. Severus bought one out of sheer curiosity, and spent an evening picking it apart. The flatish stone had no more than a couple of spell repelling charms on it, which he broke apart with a two Stunners. He daren't use anything properly dark in the flat, as Ministry raids and spot checks were becoming more frequent.

People had begun to talk of the situation as war, and it was plain to Severus that the Death Eaters were winning. The Ministry oscillated nervously between appeasement - toughening anti-Muggle legislation - and draconian crackdowns, which usually resulted in large numbers of unlikely people getting arrested for the flimsiest of reasons.

Lucius never openly admitted to being a member of Lord Voldemort's inner circle, but Severus was sure that he must be. Sometimes he picked up on comments between the gang, or telling glances between them when the subject arose in conversation. Bellatrix, whose dark eyes had taken on a fanatical gleam since he'd first met her, often talked of immortality and power, at least until Lucius furiously shushed her. Severus felt desperately jealous at his exclusion, rather like when they talked about events on the old family social circuit. But whereas he had little hope of joining the latter, the Death Eaters were a more realistic possibility. He just had to bide his time.

*****

One night in late August, Severus awoke suddenly, eyes flying open in the dark. For a second, he was back in Spinners' End, hearing his Dad getting in from the pub, heart racing. But then sense kicked back in, and he knew he was in Lucius' flat on a close, muggy night. He heard a noise, a strange moan, outside the bedroom, and his heart sped up again. Cautiously he moved to the door, holding his wand. He waited a moment, hearing nothing but the rush of blood in his ears, then pushed it open.

The hallway was dark, and it took his eyes a moment to pick out the crumpled figure lying in the hallway. He cast another Shield charm, to hold over him, and then lit the lamps. He could see now the figure had the robes and mask of a Death Eater. A few strands of blond hair escaped from beneath the edge of the hood. An ugly dark stain was spreading across the robes and beginning to seep onto the carpet.

Rushing forwards, Severus removed the hood. Lucius' face beneath was flushed, his hair sticking damply to his forehead. The grey eyes were closed, the lids flickering feebly. With horror, Severus moved his attention down to where the blood was soaking through the robes. 'Diffindo!' he whispered, pulling the fabric apart. A warm rush of blood met his hands, obliterating the pale skin. Lucius was cut badly, he could see glistening edges of organs. He found he could hardly breathe.

'Severus,' whispered his friend. 'Sev, they got me. The bastards got me.'

'It's OK Lucius,' he choked, trying not to pass out from the horror and the gore. 'It's OK, we'll get you to St Mungo's, they'll fix you...'

'No!' gasped Lucius, trying to grasp at Severus shaking arm. He looked down to see the long fingers pale against the dark flannel of his nightshirt. He remembered the first time he'd met Lucius in Diagon Alley, how he'd been fascinated by the delicacy of those fingers. 'Not... St Mungo's.' Every word seemed to come as a great effort. 'They'll... know... how it... happened. The... Aurors...'

'But Lucius, without St Mungo's you'll die!' he exclaimed, glancing again at the terrible wounds.

Lucius' grip tightened on his arm. 'Not St Mungo's,' he repeated, his voice a little stronger. 'Will go... to Azkaban... the Dementors... better... to die.'

'No!' Severus heard himself shout, echoing in the hall. 'No, Lucius, no, no no!' he repeated.

'You know... I'm right,' choked Lucius, voice and grip weakening again.

From somewhere deep within himself, Severus summoned up all his strength and pulled himself together. 'You're not going to die,' he told Lucius, as he tore his nightshirt off, pressing it hard against the gaping hole in his friend's abdomen. 'I'm not going to let you. If you can't go to St Mungo's, I'll heal you myself.' He ripped Lucius robes' further open, revealing cuts across his stomach, deep and ugly. He nearly quailed again, but forced himself to act dispassionately.

He cleared his mind and carefully turned his attention to one of the cuts, which ran from the hollow below Lucius' breastbone and down, through his belly button, to the spot where coarse dark blond hair grew above the line of his underpants. Severus touched his wand to the top of the cut and whispered the words of the healing charm he'd used so many times on minor injuries sustained by the Quidditch team. The charm Lucius had taught him. He put every bit of his will behind it, but nothing seemed to happen.

'It'll resist charms, it's a cursed wound,' whispered Lucius. 'Those Aurors fight dirty.' He gave a breathy noise that might have been supposed to be laughter. A little blood appeared at the edge of his mouth. 'Dark wizard catchers... they are... dark wizards... themselves.'

'Bastards,' muttered Severus, trying not to let despair overwhelm him. Why didn't they teach more healing magic at Hogwarts? Too late for that now. If he didn't know the spells, he'd have to do what he was best at, and invent his own. He looked at the mess again and decided his first priority was to stop the bleeding. If he could keep the blood in, it would buy him time.

He held his wand tightly, close to the tip, moving it slowly so it felt like an extension of himself. Concentrating hard, he pushed his magic down into the wand and focussed on binding, on holding, on pushing the blood away from the wound, back into the veins. He whispered soft syllables, meaningless sounds. As he withdrew, he saw the blood was no longer welling. Licking his lips, tongue protruding in concentration, he whispered the words of a Conjuration. He thought of McGonagall, telling them that the best conjuring came from deep within, the wizard giving a part of his power to create something from nothing. If that was what it took to make it work, Severus would gladly give up his whole body for the spell to succeed.

Grey matter, like mist, gathered around his wand, and he spun it out around Lucius body, tight against the gaping wounds. He made no effort to close the cuts, instead binding them over, protecting the precious organs beneath. Finally, exhausted he sat back on his heels, in his pants and covered in blood. With a last bit of effort he cast a cleaning charm to remove all the blood from the surroundings. He needed to be able to see if his friend started bleeding again.

Lucius' eyelids flickered. His midriff was now shrouded in dense silver-grey fibres, from his chest down to his hips. 'Severus?' His voice was still weak, but he'd stopped gasping.

'Lucius, you've got to stay still. Can you do that?' He prodded anxiously at the improvised binding.

'No, I was planning on playing Quidditch,' he quipped weakly, managing a ghost of a smile.

Severus didn't laugh. He summoned the blankets from his bed and arranged them over his friend. 'I'll be back,' he said, stepping over Lucius and lighting the fire in the kitchen with a jet of flame from his wand. In his room he pulled his robes on without bothering to wash Lucius' blood off his body. He had bought them some time, but he wasn't sure how much.

In the kitchen he slung a cauldron over the fire and pulled open every cupboard, laying out ingredients. He diced some slugs and added them with shredded leaves into the cauldron to stew. His copy of Advanced Potion Making almost split at the seams as he manhandled it to the right page. A cursory glance over the ingredients list was enough to refresh his memory. He returned to Lucius and felt inside his robes, removing his pouch of gold. 'I'll pay you back,' he said, pocketing it.

'Whatever,' commented Lucius, who no longer looked flushed. His skin was paling, greying even. Severus snatched up the discarded Death Eater hood and pulled it on over his own head. He could smell Lucius' sweat. For a moment his vision was blurred, as the mask adjusted itself magically to his face. He forced his feet into his shoes and disapparated sharply , hitting the cobbles of Knockturn Alley seconds later. Wand out, he strode along to Stew and Purge, and banged on the door.

After a thirty second onslaught, a man's head emerged out of an upstairs window. He was wearing a nightcap. 'Wha's all this? You got a nerve... oh!' He stopped when he saw the mask.

'Open up, on the Dark Lord's orders,' barked Severus, in a good imitation of Lucius' clipped tones.

'I ain't done nothing!' cried the shopkeeper, in a higher pitched voice than previously. 'I'm an honest businessman, I don't trouble trouble...'

'Then get down here and serve me quickly. Don't give me reason to tell my master you have been uncooperative.'

The man disappeared and reappeared at the door so fast he must have apparated. He pulled across the chains with much fumbling and timewasting. Severus folded his arms and tapped his foot. Finally he got the door open, and Severus pushed past him into the store, lighting the lamps with a flick of his wand. He immediately began taking items from the shelves.

'You have ready-stewed snails? I need three boxes.' He pulled down a box of lacewings and glanced inside. 'These need shredding,' he said curtly, throwing the box towards the stunned shopkeeper. 'Quickly!' he roared, when the man hesitated. 'Do you want to keep the Dark Lord waiting?'

The man scurried away as Severus filled a basket with boxes, bottles and jars. He reviewed the ranks of ready-made potions, selected several and added them to his purchases. Uncorking one, he sniffed it sceptically. 'This is watered down,' he informed the shopkeeper, who had just returned with a container of shredded lacewings and two pots of slugs. 'You should be ashamed, selling rubbish like this.' He upended the bottle, letting the yellowish liquid pour away onto the dusty floor. The look of fear and powerlessness on the man's face gave him a brief glow of pleasure.

He took the remaining items from the shopkeeper and handed over three golden coins from the pouch he'd taken from Lucius. The man reviewed them. 'This ain't enough for all you've had, not to mention getting me out of bed...'

'Avoiding the Dark Lord's displeasure more than compensates for the rest, you are lucky I have paid at all.' Severus pocketed the remains of Lucius' purse and disapparated with his purchases.

The flat was gloomy after the shop, and he flicked his wand again to make the lamps flare brighter. Lucius was lying where he had left him, his hair fanned out around his head. Severus was relieved to see that no further blood had leaked onto the floor, but Lucius' face was ashen and even his lips had a bloodless look. He strode into the kitchen, digging out several sets of ingredients. He added the shredded lacewings to the cauldron, alternating them with stewed slugs. He stirred it twice, anticlockwise, murmuring some words as he did so.

Back at Lucius' side he shook his friend lightly. 'Lucius? I'm back. Come on, Lew, wake up.'

The older man stirred and moaned. His eyes opened halfway and he viewed Severus through his lashes. 'Not... dead... yet,' he whispered, his voice hoarse.

'Good, try to stay awake.' He checked the bindings and noted they were still in place, before returning to the potion. He added some more ingredients and stirred again, before taking a knife and baring his forearm. He barely felt the cut, so sharp was the blade, and watched as bright beads of blood formed along it, then fell into the cauldron.

Finally, he was satisfied with the potion, and poured it carefully into a goblet. Returning to Lucius, he summoned some cushions and with great care, went about propping up his friend. 'Nearly there, I've made a blood replenishing potion. Here, sip some of this first. Strengthening Solution.'

Lucius pursed his lips and sucked some of the potion, swallowing with an effort. After a moment, his eyes opened fully, and looked straight into Severus'. The two stared at each other for a moment. Finally he said, 'You're crazy, Severus, if you think you can save me.'

'I've done all right so far,' replied Severus, testing the temperature of the goblet with his hand.

His friend smiled. 'That's what I always liked about you. You never accept limits.' He gave a slight shudder. 'I'm cold.'

Finding his wand, Severus cast a warming charm. Malfoy smiled again. 'I remember teaching you that spell. You set my socks on fire.' His eyes slid down to the goblet in Severus' hand. 'What did you say that was?'

'Blood replenishing potion. Made with my own blood, that should make it stronger. We have to keep you going overnight, until I can get to some books about medi-magic and heal those wounds properly.' He looked down again at the grey binding. Was it his imagination, or could he see a darkening, as though blood was starting to seep through?

'Severus, you won't learn medi-magic in a morning,' said Lucius, sounding suddenly very old. 'These wounds, only a proper Healer could fix. They train for years, it is a specialised branch of magic. If you get it wrong, you can cause great damage. That's why they prefer people to go to the experts. The Aurors use spells like this because they know their victims will be forced to seek medical assistance, or die. And the moment you step over the threshold of St Mungo's with a wound like this, you're as good as sentenced.'

'Well, the Aurors are going to get a nasty shock then, because I'm going to find a way. It doesn't matter how complicated it is, Lucius, I can learn it. I know I can. There's no way I'm letting you die. We have a deal, remember.'

Lucius closed his eyes as if in pain. 'One of my better ideas, that,' he said softly.

'Here, drink this. It's cool enough now.' Severus raised the goblet to Lucius' lips and watched as his friend sipped, before pulling a face.

'It tastes terrible,' said Lucius, sticking out his tongue as though to remove the taste from his mouth.

'The best medicines always do,' Severus reassured him, tipping the goblet again. Almost straight away Lucius' face began to regain some colour. 'I'm going to get you somewhere more comfortable, then I'm going to Hogwarts.'

'Hogwarts?' asked Lucius, alarmed. 'Why Hogwarts?'

'I'm going to ask Madam Pomfrey to teach me how to heal. Or failing that, get books from the library.' Severus scrambled to his feet. 'I'm going to levitate you now, so try to stay still. Mobilicorpus!'

'Just don't let Dumbledore get wind of what you're doing, or the game's up for us both.' Lucius watched him with anxious eyes as Severus levitated him onto the bed. 'Sev? Listen. If I don't make it - will you tell Cissy that I'm sorry?'

This alarmed Severus more than anything else. 'Lucius Malfoy doesn't apologise,' he said, trying to make light. 'Anyway, you will make it.'

'But if I don't, Severus...' Lucius' grey eyes implored him.

'I've never let you down yet, have I?' Severus pointed out. 'Now drink this. It's a Calming Draught. When you wake up, I'll be back, and I'll know how to heal you.'

Malfoy drank the potion without any fuss, and soon his eyes had closed. He breathed deeply, and his cheeks had a pinkish tinge. He looked as well as someone with his sort of injuries possibly could. Severus went to the bathroom and quickly tidied himself up. Fortunately it didn't take much to attain his usual level of grooming. He allowed himself one last look in at his friend before disapparating. He knew he didn't have much time. And if he didn't manage it... the thought was just too terrible to contemplate.

*****

Hogwarts rose from the morning mist like a great island. Severus strode through the grounds, not noticing the dew that soaked into his shoes. He went to the side door first, that he often used to get in and out, but found it barred to even the strongest unlocking spells. With a rising sense of panic, he jogged around the castle, trying every entrance. All were unmovable.

Finally, he despaired and tried knocking on the main doors. It took three attempts before they were finally opened a few inches, revealing a small portion of the red and irritable face of Argus Filch, the caretaker. 'What d'you want?' he barked.

'Is Madam Pomfrey there?' Severus asked, trying to sound as innocent and blameless as possible.

'No. School's shut. It's the holiday. Go away and come back in September.' He gave a rather nasty smile, taking obvious pleasure in the desperate look on Severus' face, and began to push the door shut.

'No! Wait. Please. Can't I just use the library, it's an emergency, my mother...'

He didn't even get a chance to finish his carefully prepared lie before Filch cut him off. 'Haven't you heard there's a war on? Heightened security. You could be anyone, sonny. Might even be Lord Vladdermart himself. S'more than my job's worth to let you in. Now beat it, before I call the Aurors.' The door banged shut, and he could hear the sound of the magically operated locks clanking into place.

'Wait!' he shouted again. But the threat of the Aurors was enough to put him off anything more ambitious. He trailed down the steps, staring up at the castle, looking to see if there was a way in. He knew he could break in eventually, but he didn't have time! The sun was climbing in the sky, he could feel its heat on his skin.

Severus slumped down at the foot of the steps, finally feeling panic overwhelm him. He was out of ideas. He'd never manage to heal Lucius. But the thought of admitting defeat and letting him die was just too awful to contemplate. He realised he was crying, heavy helpless sobs. 'Help me,' he whispered. With no one left to ask, he appealed simply to the heavens. 'Please, help me. Someone. Please. I can't let him die. He's all I have left. Please.'

He felt something against his face, a rush of air. Opening his eyes, he found a big red bird in front of him. It looked a bit like a parrot, and he thought of Treasure Island. He sniffed and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. 'I know what you are, you're a phoenix,' he told it, in a tremulous nasal voice. The phoenix regarded him with its head on one side. It looked as though it was listening.

'I don't know what to do,' he told it, his voice wobbling again. 'He's going to die, Lucius's going to die, and I'm going to have to sit and watch him.' He sobbed again as the horror threatened to overwhelm him. 'I can't help him, and no one can help me! He's my only friend. I've lost Lily, I messed it all up, the best thing I had in my life - the one good thing - and I ruined it. Now I'm going to lose Lucius too! It's unfair, so unfair!'

He slumped forwards, chin on his chest. 'He's the only person left who believes in me, who cares about me. He took me in when my own mother turned me away, he looks out for me. If he dies, I might as well die too! And now I have to try and find the strength to go back to him, and look after him until he dies...'

As he buried his head in his hands in despair, he heard the phoenix make a noise. Looking up, he saw the phoenix was crying too, pearly tears that ran down its plump feathered cheeks. It took a minute to register in his grief stricken brain, then suddenly he gasped, choking. 'Wait, wait! Phoenix tears... they heal, phoenix tears heal!' He conjured a flask and with a shaking hand, held it out to the bird, which allowed him to collect up the steady stream of tears. 'Thank you, thank you,' he whispered, willing it to keep crying a little longer, so he'd have enough.

When the flask was full of silvery tears, the bird ceased to cry and stood back blinking at him. 'Thank you, phoenix,' he said again, wiping at his own tears after stoppering the bottle. 'I don't know how to thank you enough. I don't know how to repay you.' The bird gave another cry, a soft, musical sound, and spread its wings. Rather than taking off, it vanished as suddenly as it had appeared, in a puff of red feathers.

Shaking from exhaustion and excitement, Severus found his feet and began to run. He sprinted across the grounds, stumbling on the grass, the flask clasped in his hand. The gates seemed so far away, but he wouldn't let himself stop. Finally he was passing through them, stopping bent double to pant, before he gathered himself together, and disapparated.

The flat seemed cool and dark after the sunshine of the grounds. 'Lucius!' he called, as soon as he'd regained his senses. His heart seemed to have seized up. What if he was too late?

Lucius was lying very still, his skin as grey as his eyes, but his chest was rising and falling very slightly. Severus pulled at the grey covering of the wounds, revealing the hideous mess. Carefully unstoppering the bottle, he dripped the phoenix tears little by little into the cuts. He thanked the stars for his steady, deft hand.

When all the silver liquid was gone, he dared a look at Lucius' face. Was it just his imagination, or had his friend gained a little colour? 'Come on Lucius, you can do it. Please.' He stared at his friend, watching the colour rise in his face.

Crash! The knocking on the door was so thunderous Severus jumped right off the floor. 'Open up! Auror Squad!'

Frozen in horror, Severus stayed kneeling for a moment. Another shout came. 'Open the door now or we'll blast it in!'

He scrambled to his feet, rushing into the hall. In a strangled voice he managed to shout, 'I'm just coming!' His foot caught something - the Death Eater hood. With a wave of his wand he transfigured it into a hatstand. His hands shook as he opened the door a crack, covering it with his wand. 'Show me your identification,' he said, with more authority than he felt. 'Prove you're really Aurors.'

'For Merlin's sake,' muttered a man's voice, but a moment later a card was thrust before his eyes. As the man's finger made contact with it, the card spoke. 'Authenticated. Frank Longbottom, Auror.' Severus allowed himself a moment to be impressed by the charm, before opening the door the rest of the way.

The Aurors looked surprisingly ordinary. He'd never seen any in real life before. There was a man and a woman. He was tall and hefty, with a thin moustache. She had a round, kind looking face surrounded by wispy hair, but her voice was tough and business like, with a Yorkshire accent. 'Lucius Malfoy?'

'No,' he responded, hearing a hint of the Dales creeping back into his own voice. 'Severus Snape.'

'Is Lucius Malfoy home?' asked the woman.

Severus opened his mouth, but a smooth voice behind him answered instead. 'At your service, ma'am. How can I be of assistance?'

Lucius was wearing his black silk dressing gown, and smiling his most charming smile. Severus could have wept with relief.

'Sleeping late?' asked the woman, with a contemptuous glance at his attire.

Malfoy gave a slight laugh. 'I'm afraid you haven't caught me at my best. Rather a heavy night last night. Good old Ogden's firewhiskey. I'm feeling rather the worse for wear.'

'My heart bleeds,' said the man, trying to get a good look at the hallway beyond Severus. 'There are a group of Muggles who are feeling worse still. Know anything about that?'

Lucius' face was blank. 'Muggles? No, I don't think so. I don't have much to do with Muggles, to be honest. As little as possible, in fact.'

'Really. You don't mind if we cast a person-revealing charm?' Without waiting for assent, he went ahead and performed the spell.

'What about you, Severus? Were you accompanying Mr Malfoy on this wild night out?' The female Auror's eyes were boring into him.

Severus felt his mind tense and blank, like a hand recoiling from a hot stove. 'I was here,' he said shortly. 'All night. I don't go out much.'

'Not the sociable type?' asked the woman, still staring at him intently.

'Severus here is still studying for his exams, NEWTs next year. Has a bright future ahead of him.' Lucius clapped him on the shoulder. 'But where are my manners? I should fetch you both a drink.'

The two Aurors exchanged a glance. 'That won't be necessary,' said the female Auror, snapping shut her notebook. 'I think we've seen all we need to see. Thank you for your time, Mr Snape, Mr Malfoy. Sorry to have disturbed your beauty sleep.'

As suddenly as they'd arrived, they were gone, disapparating with a crack. Severus slammed the door and cast muffling and impermeability charms, before turning back to Lucius. His friend had slumped against the wall, his face chalky. He was shaking and for a moment Severus thought he was crying, but then he realised Malfoy was actually laughing. 'Talk about a close call!'

'How do you feel?' asked Severus impatiently.

'Like I really have been on the firewhiskey all night. I thought I was going to pass out, but that would have given the game away. Just as well those Aurors weren't looking too hard.' He puffed out his cheeks and slid down until he was sitting on the floor. Severus, glad to relax at last, slumped down opposite him. Lucius continued, 'They must have just been looking for someone seriously injured. I bet they never had a proper warrant, that's why they didn't hang about. The name of Malfoy still counts for something. I was worried when that woman was staring at you, I thought she might have been trying mind magic.'

'She was. I blocked her. That old bastard Dumbledore tried it on me once, so I made damn sure he wouldn't get a second go. How did they know to come here?'

Lucius shook his head, then winced. 'I don't know, it's worrying. Someone might have tipped them off, or they may have just taken pot luck on people from old families. The information can't have been that solid, or they'd have put more effort into searching.' He opened his dressing gown and looked down at his stomach, which was now smooth and intact again, with just the faintest silver traces to indicate where the cuts had been. 'Incredible. How the hell did you do it?'

'Magic,' answered Severus, tiredly.

'With healing skills like that Severus... well, you never cease to amaze me.' Lucius shook his head. 'I thought I was a goner.'

'I don't think it was bad as we thought at first,' lied Severus, unwilling to reveal how he obtained the phoenix tears. 'You ought to go back to bed. I'll make some more blood-replenishing potion.'

Once Lucius was back in bed, Severus was overcome suddenly with exhaustion and relief. He'd never thought of being a Death Eater as dangerous. As he relit the fire he reflected grimly that Lucius might, for the first time in his life, have bitten off more than he could chew.