Quid 2, Posts 51 - 55
Title: Quid 2
Series: Posting 51- 55
Pairing: Threesome: S/H/D
Posting began: August 22, 2006
Posting ended: April 7, 2007
Warnings, etc.: See Post 1
Quid 2, Post 51
Surprises.
**********
The knocking on the door woke Draco.
That was the first surprise of the morning.
He nearly snapped his neck off as he jerked awake. Dazed and still half-asleep, he checked the bed to reassure himself that Severus was indeed there and that the previous events hadn't just been a dream.
No, the man was really there, as was the knocking. Rubbing the painful crick making itself known in his neck, Draco staggered over to the door, wondering why Harry would be knocking.
Second surprise. It wasn't Harry.
"Good morning, Mister Black. May we come in?"
"Pro...Professor McGonagall?"
The Head of Gryffindor smiled as she stepped past him.
Third surprise.
"Madam Pomfrey?"
The Healer nodded as she took out her wand and pointed to the bed that had been barely disturbed. "On the bed, Mister Black. Professor McGonagall wants you checked over before you leave for classes."
"Cla...? Checked?"
From Severus's bedside, Professor McGonagall looked over at him. "Yes, Mister Black. I couldn't help but notice that you seemed drained by the Ritual, and I want Madam Pomfrey to verify that you are all right. Please, oblige her."
Draco wanted to argue that he was fine, but his brain couldn't seem to direct the words out of his mouth. He dropped onto the bed and lay back, allowing Madam Pomfrey to perform several spells on him. He sighed with relief when the crick eased away.
"Everything seems to be in order, Minerva. He's probably just tired. It must have taken a great deal of magic to expel the effects of Cruciatus from Severus."
The door opened and Harry gaped at the women.
"Good morning, Mister Potter."
One had to acknowledge that neither woman lost her sang-froid in the face of a Harry garbed only with a towel wrapped around his hips.
Draco propped himself up on his elbows, awake enough to appreciate the slow flush that made its way from Harry's chest, up his throat to redden his face, pooling in the tips of his ears. Draco loved to see Harry flush like that, but preferred it to be when they were in bed together. All he felt right now was embarrassment for Harry.
Who hurriedly grabbed his robes and drew them on. "Ladies," he nodded to them, once covered.
Madam Pomfrey barely paid him any attention. She had taken up position next to Severus and was casting a series of spells on him.
Professor McGonagall stepped back and they all waited in silence for her verdict.
Draco sat up, rubbing his face, wondering if he would have time for a quick shower before...
Wait.
Why was he thinking that the day's routine wasn't going to be different? It had to be. Severus was here and needed tending.
He looked over at Harry, who had come to sit next to him. Harry glanced back and shrugged to indicate that he had no idea.
"Well. In spite of his adventures," Madam Pomfrey sent the two of them a rather disapproving look, "Severus seems to have come out of this no worse physically."
"Meaning?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"Meaning that he still needs to heal. And that will take time."
"But he will heal?"
Draco found himself looking at one woman and then the other as each spoke. Harry, he noticed from the corner of an eye, was doing the same.
"Yes, certainly. Assuming that he doesn't undergo any more adventures."
"And is he well enough to remain here?"
Madam Pomfrey humphed.
"I explained why, Poppy."
"Yes, yes. I know you did."
"Well then?"
"I would prefer him in the Infirmary, where I can keep an eye on him."
"I've explained why not."
"Yes, yes. I did say preferred. I do understand the circumstances, Minerva."
"I know you do, Poppy."
"Well, Severus needs to have someone with him until he wakes up."
"Is he truly sleeping?"
Madam Pomfrey nodded and actually offered a hint of a smile. "That he is. The Ritual did indeed work as you told me. I wouldn't be surprised if he slept most of the day away. A coma is not true rest, you know."
She leaned over and straightened the line of bedclothes at Severus's shoulders.
"I'm certain that Archy would be delighted..."
Madam Pomfrey humphed again.
"All he'll do is go get you if Severus awakes when the boys aren't here."
"Why can't we be here?"
Draco was relieved that Harry was the one to ask, especially when Professor McGonagall stared at him over the top of her glasses.
"Because, Mister Potter, any break in the normal routine will alert those who must not be alerted."
Ambiguous that, but Draco suddenly knew she meant the Headmaster. Shit! He'd forgotten about the Headmaster.
Harry hadn't. "How is this going to help us with the Headmaster? And has Neville left yet?"
Neville! Oh, fuck! He'd forgotten about him as well.
Professor McGonagall looked far too unconcerned to Draco's eyes. "Mister Longbottom and the others will be joining you for breakfast and for classes."
Harry's eyes narrowed. "What have you done, Professor?"
When Harry spoke in that tone, it gave Draco shivers. The Boy Who Lived could sound very dangerous at times.
He had to give credit to McGonagall. All she did was look at him as if he'd transfigured his beetle into a saucer instead of a button. "I have Obliviated the Headmaster so that he doesn't remember the last twenty-some hours."
Draco felt his jaw drop. Fucking shit! She'd had the balls to Obliviate the Headmaster! If he ever... Fuck...
"...ing shit!"
Harry was in the same state of shocked astonishment and... Hell, yes, admiration as Draco felt.
Madam Pomfrey, it was obvious, was not as admiring as they were. "Albus is never going to accept that he's insisted that Severus be kept in total isolation until he's better."
Professor McGonagall turned the same look onto Madam Pomfrey. "Albus is my problem from now on. I explained that to you as well, Poppy."
"Yes, well..." She shrugged. "I'll do my share. I promised you that, but..."
"But don't worry, Poppy. Between you, Archy and my..." McGonagall grinned and Draco wondered at the smug glint in her eyes, "my katzentisch..."
Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes but said nothing.
"Severus will be well looked after. Now then, if you're satisfied that Severus is all right, shall we leave these young men the time to get dressed and prepare for the day's classes?"
Madam Pomfrey seemed reluctant to leave her patient. Draco couldn't blame her; he didn't want to leave him either. But if McGonagall...who had Obliviated the Headmaster...wanted him to attend classes... Well, he wasn't sure he wanted to upset her in any way.
He just wished he wasn't still so tired.
"Archy will be here with your doses of Pepper-Up before you leave, gentlemen. That should help you get through the day. Especially you, Mister Black."
"Thank you, ma'am." He hadn't thought of that, and he should have. How many times had he resorted to Pepper-Up after a night of studying or of carousing with his House-mates?
Harry got up and went to the door. Madam Pomfrey shook her head and went to leave. At the door, she turned to glare at them both. "You are not to move Professor Snape again without my knowing of it. Is that understood? If it isn't, I shall insist that he not remain here. I can find a secure place for him to recover in Hogwarts."
"No, ma'am." "Yes, ma'am."
She glared at them again then shook her head. "Once, I will accept, but..."
They got the message.
She stepped out into the hallway.
As she went to leave, Professor McGonagall gave Draco yet another surprise. "I never had the chance to compliment you on your bravery, Mister Black. Severus will grumble, I am certain, but he will be very proud of you as well. As I am. Of you both. See you at breakfast, gentlemen."
**********
Quid 2, Post 52
Katzentisch Unity.
**********
Harry was reluctant to leave Severus as was Draco, but, for his safety, they had to pretend that it was a day like any other.
Archy, Professor McGonagall's house-elf, was sitting comfortably in the chair that Draco had slept in, his face intent on that of the man still deeply sleeping. Harry doubted that an eyelash would waver without the elf noting it.
He had to nudge Draco out of the door before he himself turned to take one last look at Severus.
Out in the hallway, they said nothing as they went out to the landing of the main staircase that would lead them down to the Great Hall. On the next level down, they were met by the others, who looked no keener than they were about the day ahead.
Draco, to Harry's surprise, went up to Neville and offered him his hand. "I never said thank you, Longbottom, for the way your family came to our aid."
Neville checked quickly with Blaise before accepting Draco's hand. "He really is better?"
Draco smiled. "He snapped at us."
Harry wondered if Draco remembered that Neville hadn't been so fortunate with his parents, but it seemed that Neville had had time to get accustomed to the idea. He smiled back at Draco. "Sounds like him."
"Well," said Zeffy, stepping forward, "let's get breakfast. Pepper-Up always makes me hungry."
Harry noted that it also made all their eyes glitter with a certain shine. He wondered if any one of their professors was going to notice and comment on it.
They were almost down to the Great Hall when Harry suddenly became aware of the formation they had slipped into without anyone saying anything.
He and Draco were at the front, with Gavin, Neville and Blaise behind them. Zeffy and Kitty formed the last line. Consciously or not, Neville was well protected on all sides. As they neared the door that gave entry to the Hall, Harry slipped his wand into his hand and heard the susurration of robes that indicated his was not the only wand at the ready.
Ready for battle?
If need be.
Neville was not going to be threatened or expelled for having come to their aid. No matter what the Headmaster said. No matter that, if McGonagall were right, he might not even remember having expelled Neville.
The head table was populated only with Professors Flitwick and Sprout when they walked in. Most of the tables in the Hall were only sporadically filled. It was still a little early for the presence of most of the student body or the professors.
Not too early for some commotion at the far end of the Gryffindor table. Which was longer than usual.
There, two house-elves were arguing loudly. One was Dobby, who was hopping from one foot to the other, one hand pointing to the extension, the other wringing his ear. The second house-elf was new to Harry. He was old, probably the oldest house-elf Harry had ever seen. He had tufts of white hair growing out of his ears and his long nose drooped. He was leaning on a cane and glaring at Dobby.
Harry gestured with his head and led the others closer to the argument.
"But Professor Albus Dumbledore..." Dobby was almost spitting in his urgency.
"The Head of Gryffindor has given her orders and Shuggie obeys her." Then the elf looked up and saw Harry and the others watching. He smiled at them and bowed. "Ah, Professor McGonagall's katzentisch. Please, breakfast is being served. Sit down."
Harry glanced at the table and counted seven place settings, three on either side and one at the end.
Gavin stepped up and gave the elderly house-elf a little bow. "For us? How nice." He took the place at the end and gestured to the others. "Shall we? Ladies to either side of me, I believe, and the rest of you can seat yourselves where it pleases you."
Kitty laughed softly, "Who put you in charge, Gavin?" but she went and took the place to his left.
With a shrug, Zeffy took the right. "Maybe Neville should sit with his back to the wall," she suggested.
Blaise nodded and saw to it that, once more, Neville was in the middle.
As Harry went by the end of the table, he ruffled Gavin's - today - short hair. "To hear is to obey."
Gavin growled as he tried to right his artful coiffure. Zeffy reached over and adjusted a few of the spikes.
Draco shook his head. "I wonder how this is going to go over." But he grinned at Gavin and the others.
Gavin reached for the pot of tea that appeared in front of him when Shuggie snapped his fingers. "I know what I'm doing. I can see the head table very well from here." Mainly because of the several feet of empty space between their seats and the rest of the Gryffindor table. "And I'm far better at noticing things than any of you are. For example, the Headmaster is at the doorway and he's rubbing his face as though he's trying to remember something."
"Oh, shit," whispered Neville.
"Now he's spied us," continued Gavin, pouring tea for Kitty. "He's not happy but he's not saying anything. He is glaring. Smile everyone, as though this is not something new. Look normal. Pass the plates around. Good. He's stopped glaring. Just looking a little puzzled. Oops, Dobby...but Shuggie is next to him and he's saying something to the Headmaster that has him looking around... Ah, for our dear Professor McGonagall."
Zeffy checked over her shoulder just enough to see that Gavin's commentary was right on as she helped herself to sausages and toast.
"And there she is. Coming in from the door behind the head table. She's smiling at him, nodding. I've decided that the woman is a goddess, you know. She needs to be worshiped, especially if she carries this off."
At Gavin's reverential awe, Harry swallowed his mouthful of tea very carefully. Blaise had less success with his and some of it trickled out of a corner of his mouth. Neville thoughtfully passed him a napkin.
"She's coming to the front of the dais. I wonder..."
The sound of clapping hands got the attention of everyone in the Hall. It had been less noisy than normal as the students entering had all realised that the 'exiles' were once more sitting together, and were discussing the situation in hushed tones.
"May I have your attention."
Harry appreciated how she had pitched her voice to carry to every corner of the Hall.
"I have some very good news to share with all of you."
Oh, yeah?
"I am certain that Professor Snape's condition has been worrying many of you."
At least she was honest enough to know that 'all' would have been a gross exaggeration.
"I am delighted to be able to report that the Professor regained consciousness early this morning..."
"Oh, oh. The Headmaster isn't happy to hear that," commented Gavin.
Harry switched his focus from McGonagall to the Headmaster, whom he should have been watching. Maybe Gavin had been right to sit at the head that way.
"He spoke and understood when he was spoken to."
No, the Headmaster was definitely not delighted to hear that. Slytherin table was. They cheered. Well, most of them did. As did several at Ravenclaw. Those around him joined in and Harry cheered the loudest of the bunch. He did it all the while staring at Dumbledore, daring him to notice.
But he didn't; the Headmaster was only watching McGonagall.
Who waited until the cheers dropped to add, "Unfortunately, his injuries are still very severe and Madam Pomfrey has declared that he is to have no visitors until she feels Professor Snape is well enough to receive them without their tiring him. I know that many of you will want to send him your best wishes for recovery and, to that end, a basket has been placed outside the Infirmary door. You may place any card you wish to send him in it. Madam Pomfrey asks that nothing else be placed there for the foreseeable future as she needs to keep the Professor in as sterile a room as possible due to the extent of his injuries. But she assured me not five minutes ago that with quiet and care, Professor Snape will make a full recovery."
Then, to select cheers, she turned and faced the Headmaster.
"Shit," muttered Gavin, "I really wish I could lip-read."
"Maybe it's better that you can't," said Kitty as she held out her cup for him to refill. "I don't think I would like to hear what they're saying to each other. Enough now. Eat. We've got classes in less than ten minutes."
Harry nodded. "I think it's safe to say that Professor McGonagall can take care of herself."
Gavin shook his head. "Doesn't mean I can't worry."
"Doesn't mean that all of us can't worry," said Blaise. "But right now, the best thing we can do is behave as though this were an ordinary day."
**********
Quid 2, Post 53
Lines Are Drawn.
**********
Minerva McGonagall knew that when she turned, she would be facing the direct glare of the Headmaster.
That she had expected it did not make it less intense. She could actually feel a shiver run up her spine.
"Professor McGonagall..."
Those sitting at the head table were the only ones who could hear him amidst the sound of students rushing off to deal with first classes. They all froze at the tone of repressed anger.
Every word out of his mouth had a bitten quality to it. "I gave orders that certain students were not to sit together. Dobby informs me that you have decided to override my instructions."
Minerva was conscious of every eye on her. The staff would not get involved, but they were not going to miss out on what would probably be an intense blow-up between the Headmaster and his Deputy. Professor Flitwick had indeed stood himself up on the seat of his chair in order to catch all the action.
Minerva stood with her feet braced - prepared for any reaction from the Headmaster - and, raising her chin, addressed the Headmaster in a cold voice.
"Misses Parfitt, Strange, Misters Black..."
"I know who they are," snarled the Headmaster.
Minerva continued as though there had been no interruption. "Potter, Bennett, Longbottom, and Zabini..."
The Headmaster took a step forward, his face white.
Flitwick surreptitiously went for his wand.
Minerva met his glare. "...are all Under My Protection."
That actually stopped the Headmaster from approaching any closer.
"Oh, dear," sputtered Professor Sprout.
Professor Flitwick cleared his throat. "Just for purposes of clarity, Minerva, would that be an 'under my', err, 'under your protection' with or without capitalisation?"
Minerva's eyes hadn't left the Headmaster's. "Capitalised, Filius."
"Yes, hmmm, I thought that might be the case."
"Is that truly necessary?" The Headmaster tried to look disdainful, but everyone could hear the words strained between clenched teeth.
"In my mind, there can be no doubt," asserted Minerva.
Professor Sprout nervously gathered her things. "Well, then, I'm certain that Gavin Bennett is in very safe hands. Must be off. Greenhouse Number Four today with the First Years, don't you know."
Professor Flitwick was not that easy to satisfy. "Minerva? I need more than just your say-so."
She nodded, her eyes never leaving the Headmaster. "Tea in my office later this morning?"
"That shall have to do. If I feel that the situation does not warrant the members of my House being Under Your Protection, Minerva, I will insist that you respect my decision."
"Of course, Filius."
The small charms professor humphed, slipped his wand back into his sleeve and hopped down from the chair.
That was the signal for the others to follow suit. After a few hurried glances over shoulders, Minerva and the Headmaster were alone.
"Under Your Protection?" The Headmaster was not pleased.
Minerva didn't blame him; though very old, dating back to the origins of Hogwarts, this custom had not been called up in centuries.
"And what's this about Severus being kept in a sterile environment? When last I checked with Poppy..."
"Things have changed since then, Albus. Severus has been moved to a secure room. Like yourself, Poppy doesn't want any more surprises where Severus is concerned. His chances of full recovery are a little less than I claimed. She wants no chance of relapse. Once, to her mind, was once too many."
She had to give Albus credit; he didn't show any sign of guilt or even an uneasy conscience when she said that. He really was as far gone as he'd proven himself to be in the Chamber.
"We need to discuss this situation further in my office, Professor McGonagall."
"Unfortunately," though she didn't sound particularly saddened, "I have a class waiting for me. And you heard me commit my morning tea break to Filius."
"Minerva!"
She ignored the specks of spittle that landed on her face. She really had pushed him too far, but she also really didn't want an interview with him until...
A large owl dove at them, hovering over the Headmaster, trying to find a place to land.
"What?!" snarled the Headmaster, trying to dodge the large wings.
"Looks to be an official messenger," Minerva pointed out, directing the owl to the table. It landed a little awkwardly and tried to balance on one foot, kicking out with the other. "Yes, yes. Do try to stand still. You're moving about too much to remove the message."
Minerva reached over and offered the huffing owl a large piece of bacon to soothe it, then managed to undo the red ribbon that held the small scroll. "It's addressed to you, Headmaster," she said, holding it out.
He snatched it from her, his face reddening at having to direct his attention elsewhere.
"What the... Oh, for Merlin's sake! He can't be serious!"
"Headmaster?"
Dumbledore seemed to have forgotten that just a minute earlier he had been on the verge of hexing her. He read the message again. "It's from Scrimgeour. He needs me at the Ministry. Seems the representative of the Arabian Ministry has arrived for talks about...about sand oil."
Minerva raised an eyebrow. Sand oil was a rare, precious commodity that was a necessary ingredient of Floo powder. It didn't require a great deal, just one drop per ten kilograms, but without it, one might as well try to floo with ashes from a fireplace. Britain had had a one hundred year contract for the oil with the Arabian Ministry, but those one hundred years were at an end. And the Arabian Minister had decided that he wanted a better deal this time round.
"But why does Scrimgeour need you? What do you have to do with sand oil?"
"The diplomat who has arrived for negotiations is Sinjin Nesraddine."
Minerva was stunned. "Nes? Our Nes?"
The Headmaster didn't look up. "So it seems. He's requested my presence. Seems he thinks that the negotiations will be more above-board if I partake."
Minerva offered thanks to Mother Earth. Nes had been a class- and House-mate of Minerva's. He was charming, generous and had always needed everything explained to him many times over before he could grasp a concept. He'd been the bane of their teachers the five years he'd attended Hogwarts while his father had been Arabian Ambassador to Britain.
Minerva sighed. She'd been very fond of Nes, as they had all been, and had tried to tutor him in Transfiguration. The problem with Nes was that until he'd caught and mastered a concept, he easily lost ground with any kind of disruption, such as the need to sleep. Nes was a dedicated proponent of naps.
She had missed him when he'd returned to his country to finish his studies, but had, along with all his instructors, been relieved at no longer having to try and get him to understand concepts that seemed so reasonable and simple to everyone else. Minerva had run into him now and then, at some convention, only to find that he hadn't changed. He was the heart of any party and still needed the simplest thing explained over and over again.
With Nes involved, it might be weeks before Albus would be back.
"Just remember that the simpler the explanation, the faster Nes grasps it," she counselled, almost, but not quite, feeling sorry for the Headmaster.
He grunted in response, pocketed the message and turned to deal with the matter. He was half-way out of the Hall when he spun around to glare at her. "This is only a postponement. I shall be back once I know what schedule these negotiations will be following. We will have that little talk, Professor McGonagall."
Minerva hoped she managed to hide her relief. "Of course we will, Headmaster."
He humphed, not believing her.
But that was all right; after all, she no longer believed anything he said.
As she hurried off to her first class of the day, Minerva made a mental note to send a case of firewhiskey to Alastor Moody as a thank you for such quick action on his part. She'd only contacted him the previous afternoon, after her meeting with Gavin. All she'd asked was for him to find a way of getting Albus away from Hogwarts for a few days. She wondered what strings he had had to pull to have their old House-mate assigned to the negotiations.
**********
Quid 2, Post 54
Awakening Thoughts.
**********
The first thing he was aware of was the warmth. He wasn't cold and he somehow knew that he'd recently been very cold.
He kept his eyes closed because it seemed simpler to do so. That didn't mean that he didn't check out his environment. Besides the warmth, there was the softness of clothing on his body. A nightshirt from the feel of it and the fact that his legs were bare and covered.
The weight of bedclothes, the line that ended at his neck, told him he was in bed.
Not his own bed, however. The room he was in didn't have the smells of his. Not the aroma of old books that lined one of the walls, not the whisper of potions that permeated his clothing.
So where was he? More importantly, why was he here?
He wanted to find his wand and suddenly realised that his hand was covered with a cloth of some kind. Not a glove, nor a mitten. But...
Oh, shit!
A bloody bandage.
He must be in the Infirmary again!
But...the perfume of antiseptic was missing.
And, now that he thought about it, this bed was far larger than the cots Poppy favoured. His feet usually rested against the foot board when he lay in one of her beds.
He twitched a foot, carefully feeling for something solid, and felt nothing of the kind. So, a long bed.
Where the hell was he?
"Severus, I know you're awake, dear. I'm going to take your pulse so don't be startled when I touch you."
Poppy.
A warm hand against his throat and the slight pressure of fingertips on the pulse point.
Severus slowly opened his eyes and squinted against the light.
"Much better. I'm very pleased with the way you're healing."
Healing.
Why was Poppy so ple...
Voldemort!
Cruciatus!
Severus fully opened his eyes, feeling the sudden urge to scream.
"It's all right, Severus." Hands rested lightly on his shoulders, keeping him from moving. "You're safe. It's all right, dear. You have nothing to worry about. Look at me, Severus."
He wanted to pull away. He wanted to run and hide. He wanted...
"Look at me!"
...to look at Poppy.
He did.
And there she was, in her starched glory, face worried as she held him down.
"Good. Now I don't want you moving. I've worked hard to put you back together and I don't want you undoing my good work."
Yes. Poppy. Warm, healing hands; gruff voice. He was safe. She said so.
"Where..."
Was that his voice? He didn't recognise it in the least. His throat...
"Where are you? You're in a safe part of Hogwarts. You're home and you're safe, Severus."
Hogwarts? Of course he was safe at Hogwarts.
He thought about that as Poppy left his field of vision. He turned his head slightly and saw her stooped over a small table by the bed, a table that was piled with bottles and vials.
She picked several up and poured different doses into a glass.
Oh, hell. He hated it when she had to put that many together. The taste...
He found himself grimacing at the thought of forcing the contents of that glass down.
"How...bad..."
Merlin, his throat hurt. There had better be a soothing potion in that mess, otherwise giving his report to Dumbledore... What report? That he'd walked into a torture session and that, somehow, he seemed to have walked out. Well, probably not walked, but he was here in Hogwarts, not the cemetery that had been the point of apparation when he'd been Summoned.
Poppy slipped her hand under his head and raised it enough so that he wouldn't choke on the potions.
"Easy now. Get these down and I have a glass of water ready for you."
Which meant the taste was going to be... Oh, damn it all! Bitter and...bloody godawful.
The water chaser didn't help much, but he gulped it down, suddenly realising how thirsty he was.
"Very good."
Severus scraped the top of his tongue against his upper teeth. Why was it that he never remembered how foul combinations could be? He must remember to do something about the taste of medical potions.
But he seemed to remember telling himself the same thing last time and he still hadn't. This time...
"Would you like some broth, Severus?"
He'd really like answers, but broth seemed to be a much better idea.
"I suppose you're brimming with questions."
The spoonful of broth was ambrosia. It rinsed the last of the aftertaste of the potions out of his mouth and it was hot. Not so hot that he couldn't swallow, but soothingly hot against the rawness of his throat.
"As I said, you're safe here at Hogwarts. We... Minerva and I, that is...we moved you from the Infirmary to this safe room because we were afraid that someone might try to finish off what You-Know-Who started."
There was something in her voice that caught his attention and he knew he should be paying closer attention, but the next spoonful of broth was at his lips and that seemed more important right now.
"You are very lucky to be alive, Severus Snape."
He managed to raise his eyes up to her face. Poppy had that most serious of expressions on her face. So...it had been that bad, eh?
"I shan't bore you with a list of what was damaged. Frankly, the list of what wasn't would be much, much shorter, but all you need to know right now is that you must behave. No rushing to get out of bed."
Bloody hell, he doubted that he could raise his head without her help. No, he certainly wouldn't be rushing out of bed. Mind... His classes?
"Albus has asked Slughorn to return to take your classes over until I give you a clean bill of health."
Slughorn? Oh, shit. The man would play havoc with his classes. His bloody favourites would... Damn it all to hell!
"Which I have no intention of doing any time soon. Severus, pay attention to me!"
He glared up at her.
Poppy shook her head. "Well, whom did you think he'd get to replace you? Some twit like we have doing DADA? Yes, I know that Slughorn wouldn't be your first choice, but you can be certain that Minerva will be keeping a close eye on him. What? Oh, why Minerva? Well, because the Headmaster will be spending some time at the Ministry. Seems they've called on him for some special negotiations of some kind. Minerva is acting Headmistress. You'll have to ask her for the specifics when she visits. Now then, forget about all that and just concentrate on getting better. Start by finishing this broth."
Oh, bloody hell! Did the woman...not realise the damage Slughorn's little games would cause? Philo...mena Grimsby was a brilliant brewer...even if she was Hufflepuff. But she had no...note-worthy connections. Slughorn...wouldn't pay the least amount of...attention to her and she was working...on a potion of her own invention that...
Poppy smiled when she realised that Severus had fallen asleep between two spoonfuls of broth.
**********
Quid 2, Post 55
A Common Room.
**********
Zeffy and Kitty were standing just inside the room, looking at the stacks of boxes and furniture that were piled to the ceiling.
"What do you think?"
Zeffy shrugged. This was Kitty's idea. Anything Kitty wanted was all right by her.
"Maybe we should ask the others?"
Zeffy thought about that. Seemed to her that the only 'other' who really mattered in all this was Professor McGonagall. And she was rather busy right now, what with having to juggle the Headmaster's work with her own.
The whole school had been rather surprised when Professor McGonagall had announced at luncheon that the Headmaster had been called away to the Ministry, to engage in negotiations on its behalf. Surprised and just a bit proud that their Headmaster's presence was really so crucial for an important matter.
So asking her for her opinion on such a relatively minor matter seemed inappropriate to Zeffy.
"I have an idea," she offered. "Archy!"
"Miss Strange. Miss Parfitt. What can Archy do to serve you?"
Kitty smiled at the house-elf and Zeffy swallowed the snicker that wanted out when the house-elf blushed. Kitty had that kind of power over most males.
"Archy. I think if we're to remain in the tower, we really need a room in which to gather. We shouldn't be convening in bedrooms. First of all, they're much too small for the seven of us to meet in comfortably, and secondly, they are bedrooms after all. Not really proper."
Archy was listening with great intentness to Kitty. He considered a moment about that last comment, his eyes darkening. "No, Miss Parfitt is perfectly correct. Not proper at all."
Kitty rewarded him with yet another smile and a small pat on the shoulder. Zeffy averted her eyes as the house-elf melted.
"Now this room," she gestured to the storeroom that was on the level below their bedrooms, "would be much more acceptable if we could only empty it."
Archy tore his eyes away from Kitty to glance at the room.
"Is there anything important here that couldn't be moved to another storeroom?"
Archy gave the room a more serious look-over. He grimaced, squinted, rubbed his ears then sniffed loudly. With a smile, he turned back to Kitty.
"No, Miss Parfitt. Nothing. Is mainly things left over from old headmasters and headmistresses. Broken furniture and things no one wants."
Kitty's delighted laughter filled the room. "Do you think you could help us, Archy?"
Frankly, in Zeffy's opinion, Archy would walk through fire right now if Kitty asked him to.
"I know that Professor McGonagall doesn't want just any house-elf to come into this tower, but I don't want you doing this alone. You just tell us where to send the boxes and other stuff and we'll take care of it."
Archy looked horrified at the idea of Kitty doing anything so mundane. Zeffy decided it was time to interfere. "Kitty is dying to see what's in the boxes, Archy."
"I am not."
"You are too. Your worst defect is your curiosity."
"Curiosity," interjected Archy, scandalised, "is not a defect!" He simpered up at Kitty. "Archy will deal with the boxes that contain nothing interesting. But there are some old trunks that Miss Parfitt..."
"Please, Archy, do call me Kitty."
Zeffy rolled her eyes. Hermione Granger boasted that she had the house-elves' interest at heart. But she didn't understand the nature of house-elves and their need to serve. Right now, Archy would do his best to move the Earth off its orbit if Kitty asked him to try.
"What are you up to?"
Zeffy looked over her shoulder at Gavin. "We're going to clear this space out for a common room."
"Oh," Gavin stepped in, smiled at Archy who barely knew Gavin was there, and looked around the room. "Not much bigger than our bedroom, but it would be nice to have a place to come to when Neville and Blaise need some privacy. Could we have a comfortable couch? Just for naps and such?"
It didn't take long.
Zeffy and Gavin checked the contents of the boxes and the condition of the furniture that Kitty approved or disapproved, and Archy sent the rejects off to who-knew-where.
As the semi-circular room emptied, the floor proved to be parquet under the dust and dirt; the outer walls, stone; the ceiling, twelve feet above, painted with a scene of the Founders - appropriate, said Gavin, considering that all four Houses were represented among them; and the windows, some nine feet high, leaded in a diamond pattern.
Kitty approved the use of several trunks as tables to support the lamps they'd found. That the trunks were revealed to hold robes and gowns that were hundreds of years old delighted Kitty so, that Archy didn't bother offering to remove them. Zeffy herself was pleased when they opened one of the trunks to discover undergarments of the most intriguing kind. She glanced over at Kitty, who blushed very promisingly at the black and red silk thing that Zeffy held in her hand.
Gavin had his head stuck in the trunk, ohhing and ahhing at the contents. Zeffy thought she might have to fight him for use of some of the undergarments, but Gavin put everything back in and smirked rather salaciously, "One night, we shall all have to play dress-up. Or dress-down in this case."
Archy found a long couch somewhere, which passed Gavin's test for comfort, a shorter one and several armchairs that would give everyone a place to sit. They discovered several rolled up carpets that had the emblem of Hogwarts woven into them. Archy gave them a precursory cleansing on the spot and placed them on the floor to Kitty's satisfaction.
The fireplace needed more work than he could provide at the moment, but Archy promised them that, by morning, the room would be more than ready for them. And it seemed he remembered seeing some curtains stored elsewhere in the castle that would match the carpets, if that's what Miss Kitty would like.
Miss Kitty would indeed.
Archy blushed again and disappeared, off to find something else that he thought Kitty would appreciate.
Gavin plopped himself onto the couch, stretched out and yawned.
"Going to sleep here tonight?" Zeffy asked as she pulled Kitty down next to her on the other couch. "The room's not all that warm."
"Nah. In my own bed. They've had enough time." He sighed dramatically. "Ah, young love!"
Kitty snuggled up to Zeffy and rested her head on a strong shoulder. "You have someone in mind for yourself, Squeakie?"
Gavin glared at her. Zeffy noticed he didn't bother wasting his breath protesting at the nickname.
"There are too many fish in the sea, and I'm far too young to be paired up for life like some of you."
Zeffy wrapped her arm around Kitty's waist and held her closer. "For life?"
Gavin yawned. "You two and Neville and Blaise..." He yawned again. "Not to mention Potter and the so-called Black."
"And you know this, how?" Kitty pulled her legs up under her and curled closer into Zeffy.
"My dears," Gavin waved away Kitty's query with unconcern. "It's one of my many talents. I can always tell. One hundred years from now, you two will still be together. Can you doubt me?"
Zeffy thought about one hundred years with Kitty and felt an overwhelming sense of rightness and contentment. "No."
Kitty smiled at Zeffy then raised an eyebrow. "Only one hundred, eh? I'd better not catch you fooling around with anyone else at that point."
"Ladies, please. No cat fights."
Both Zeffy and Kitty groaned aloud at that.
Gavin snickered. "Been wanting to say that for the longest time," he admitted.
Kitty hit him with a small pillow.
**********
on to the next part
Series: Posting 51- 55
Pairing: Threesome: S/H/D
Posting began: August 22, 2006
Posting ended: April 7, 2007
Warnings, etc.: See Post 1
Quid 2, Post 51
Surprises.
**********
The knocking on the door woke Draco.
That was the first surprise of the morning.
He nearly snapped his neck off as he jerked awake. Dazed and still half-asleep, he checked the bed to reassure himself that Severus was indeed there and that the previous events hadn't just been a dream.
No, the man was really there, as was the knocking. Rubbing the painful crick making itself known in his neck, Draco staggered over to the door, wondering why Harry would be knocking.
Second surprise. It wasn't Harry.
"Good morning, Mister Black. May we come in?"
"Pro...Professor McGonagall?"
The Head of Gryffindor smiled as she stepped past him.
Third surprise.
"Madam Pomfrey?"
The Healer nodded as she took out her wand and pointed to the bed that had been barely disturbed. "On the bed, Mister Black. Professor McGonagall wants you checked over before you leave for classes."
"Cla...? Checked?"
From Severus's bedside, Professor McGonagall looked over at him. "Yes, Mister Black. I couldn't help but notice that you seemed drained by the Ritual, and I want Madam Pomfrey to verify that you are all right. Please, oblige her."
Draco wanted to argue that he was fine, but his brain couldn't seem to direct the words out of his mouth. He dropped onto the bed and lay back, allowing Madam Pomfrey to perform several spells on him. He sighed with relief when the crick eased away.
"Everything seems to be in order, Minerva. He's probably just tired. It must have taken a great deal of magic to expel the effects of Cruciatus from Severus."
The door opened and Harry gaped at the women.
"Good morning, Mister Potter."
One had to acknowledge that neither woman lost her sang-froid in the face of a Harry garbed only with a towel wrapped around his hips.
Draco propped himself up on his elbows, awake enough to appreciate the slow flush that made its way from Harry's chest, up his throat to redden his face, pooling in the tips of his ears. Draco loved to see Harry flush like that, but preferred it to be when they were in bed together. All he felt right now was embarrassment for Harry.
Who hurriedly grabbed his robes and drew them on. "Ladies," he nodded to them, once covered.
Madam Pomfrey barely paid him any attention. She had taken up position next to Severus and was casting a series of spells on him.
Professor McGonagall stepped back and they all waited in silence for her verdict.
Draco sat up, rubbing his face, wondering if he would have time for a quick shower before...
Wait.
Why was he thinking that the day's routine wasn't going to be different? It had to be. Severus was here and needed tending.
He looked over at Harry, who had come to sit next to him. Harry glanced back and shrugged to indicate that he had no idea.
"Well. In spite of his adventures," Madam Pomfrey sent the two of them a rather disapproving look, "Severus seems to have come out of this no worse physically."
"Meaning?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"Meaning that he still needs to heal. And that will take time."
"But he will heal?"
Draco found himself looking at one woman and then the other as each spoke. Harry, he noticed from the corner of an eye, was doing the same.
"Yes, certainly. Assuming that he doesn't undergo any more adventures."
"And is he well enough to remain here?"
Madam Pomfrey humphed.
"I explained why, Poppy."
"Yes, yes. I know you did."
"Well then?"
"I would prefer him in the Infirmary, where I can keep an eye on him."
"I've explained why not."
"Yes, yes. I did say preferred. I do understand the circumstances, Minerva."
"I know you do, Poppy."
"Well, Severus needs to have someone with him until he wakes up."
"Is he truly sleeping?"
Madam Pomfrey nodded and actually offered a hint of a smile. "That he is. The Ritual did indeed work as you told me. I wouldn't be surprised if he slept most of the day away. A coma is not true rest, you know."
She leaned over and straightened the line of bedclothes at Severus's shoulders.
"I'm certain that Archy would be delighted..."
Madam Pomfrey humphed again.
"All he'll do is go get you if Severus awakes when the boys aren't here."
"Why can't we be here?"
Draco was relieved that Harry was the one to ask, especially when Professor McGonagall stared at him over the top of her glasses.
"Because, Mister Potter, any break in the normal routine will alert those who must not be alerted."
Ambiguous that, but Draco suddenly knew she meant the Headmaster. Shit! He'd forgotten about the Headmaster.
Harry hadn't. "How is this going to help us with the Headmaster? And has Neville left yet?"
Neville! Oh, fuck! He'd forgotten about him as well.
Professor McGonagall looked far too unconcerned to Draco's eyes. "Mister Longbottom and the others will be joining you for breakfast and for classes."
Harry's eyes narrowed. "What have you done, Professor?"
When Harry spoke in that tone, it gave Draco shivers. The Boy Who Lived could sound very dangerous at times.
He had to give credit to McGonagall. All she did was look at him as if he'd transfigured his beetle into a saucer instead of a button. "I have Obliviated the Headmaster so that he doesn't remember the last twenty-some hours."
Draco felt his jaw drop. Fucking shit! She'd had the balls to Obliviate the Headmaster! If he ever... Fuck...
"...ing shit!"
Harry was in the same state of shocked astonishment and... Hell, yes, admiration as Draco felt.
Madam Pomfrey, it was obvious, was not as admiring as they were. "Albus is never going to accept that he's insisted that Severus be kept in total isolation until he's better."
Professor McGonagall turned the same look onto Madam Pomfrey. "Albus is my problem from now on. I explained that to you as well, Poppy."
"Yes, well..." She shrugged. "I'll do my share. I promised you that, but..."
"But don't worry, Poppy. Between you, Archy and my..." McGonagall grinned and Draco wondered at the smug glint in her eyes, "my katzentisch..."
Madam Pomfrey rolled her eyes but said nothing.
"Severus will be well looked after. Now then, if you're satisfied that Severus is all right, shall we leave these young men the time to get dressed and prepare for the day's classes?"
Madam Pomfrey seemed reluctant to leave her patient. Draco couldn't blame her; he didn't want to leave him either. But if McGonagall...who had Obliviated the Headmaster...wanted him to attend classes... Well, he wasn't sure he wanted to upset her in any way.
He just wished he wasn't still so tired.
"Archy will be here with your doses of Pepper-Up before you leave, gentlemen. That should help you get through the day. Especially you, Mister Black."
"Thank you, ma'am." He hadn't thought of that, and he should have. How many times had he resorted to Pepper-Up after a night of studying or of carousing with his House-mates?
Harry got up and went to the door. Madam Pomfrey shook her head and went to leave. At the door, she turned to glare at them both. "You are not to move Professor Snape again without my knowing of it. Is that understood? If it isn't, I shall insist that he not remain here. I can find a secure place for him to recover in Hogwarts."
"No, ma'am." "Yes, ma'am."
She glared at them again then shook her head. "Once, I will accept, but..."
They got the message.
She stepped out into the hallway.
As she went to leave, Professor McGonagall gave Draco yet another surprise. "I never had the chance to compliment you on your bravery, Mister Black. Severus will grumble, I am certain, but he will be very proud of you as well. As I am. Of you both. See you at breakfast, gentlemen."
**********
Quid 2, Post 52
Katzentisch Unity.
**********
Harry was reluctant to leave Severus as was Draco, but, for his safety, they had to pretend that it was a day like any other.
Archy, Professor McGonagall's house-elf, was sitting comfortably in the chair that Draco had slept in, his face intent on that of the man still deeply sleeping. Harry doubted that an eyelash would waver without the elf noting it.
He had to nudge Draco out of the door before he himself turned to take one last look at Severus.
Out in the hallway, they said nothing as they went out to the landing of the main staircase that would lead them down to the Great Hall. On the next level down, they were met by the others, who looked no keener than they were about the day ahead.
Draco, to Harry's surprise, went up to Neville and offered him his hand. "I never said thank you, Longbottom, for the way your family came to our aid."
Neville checked quickly with Blaise before accepting Draco's hand. "He really is better?"
Draco smiled. "He snapped at us."
Harry wondered if Draco remembered that Neville hadn't been so fortunate with his parents, but it seemed that Neville had had time to get accustomed to the idea. He smiled back at Draco. "Sounds like him."
"Well," said Zeffy, stepping forward, "let's get breakfast. Pepper-Up always makes me hungry."
Harry noted that it also made all their eyes glitter with a certain shine. He wondered if any one of their professors was going to notice and comment on it.
They were almost down to the Great Hall when Harry suddenly became aware of the formation they had slipped into without anyone saying anything.
He and Draco were at the front, with Gavin, Neville and Blaise behind them. Zeffy and Kitty formed the last line. Consciously or not, Neville was well protected on all sides. As they neared the door that gave entry to the Hall, Harry slipped his wand into his hand and heard the susurration of robes that indicated his was not the only wand at the ready.
Ready for battle?
If need be.
Neville was not going to be threatened or expelled for having come to their aid. No matter what the Headmaster said. No matter that, if McGonagall were right, he might not even remember having expelled Neville.
The head table was populated only with Professors Flitwick and Sprout when they walked in. Most of the tables in the Hall were only sporadically filled. It was still a little early for the presence of most of the student body or the professors.
Not too early for some commotion at the far end of the Gryffindor table. Which was longer than usual.
There, two house-elves were arguing loudly. One was Dobby, who was hopping from one foot to the other, one hand pointing to the extension, the other wringing his ear. The second house-elf was new to Harry. He was old, probably the oldest house-elf Harry had ever seen. He had tufts of white hair growing out of his ears and his long nose drooped. He was leaning on a cane and glaring at Dobby.
Harry gestured with his head and led the others closer to the argument.
"But Professor Albus Dumbledore..." Dobby was almost spitting in his urgency.
"The Head of Gryffindor has given her orders and Shuggie obeys her." Then the elf looked up and saw Harry and the others watching. He smiled at them and bowed. "Ah, Professor McGonagall's katzentisch. Please, breakfast is being served. Sit down."
Harry glanced at the table and counted seven place settings, three on either side and one at the end.
Gavin stepped up and gave the elderly house-elf a little bow. "For us? How nice." He took the place at the end and gestured to the others. "Shall we? Ladies to either side of me, I believe, and the rest of you can seat yourselves where it pleases you."
Kitty laughed softly, "Who put you in charge, Gavin?" but she went and took the place to his left.
With a shrug, Zeffy took the right. "Maybe Neville should sit with his back to the wall," she suggested.
Blaise nodded and saw to it that, once more, Neville was in the middle.
As Harry went by the end of the table, he ruffled Gavin's - today - short hair. "To hear is to obey."
Gavin growled as he tried to right his artful coiffure. Zeffy reached over and adjusted a few of the spikes.
Draco shook his head. "I wonder how this is going to go over." But he grinned at Gavin and the others.
Gavin reached for the pot of tea that appeared in front of him when Shuggie snapped his fingers. "I know what I'm doing. I can see the head table very well from here." Mainly because of the several feet of empty space between their seats and the rest of the Gryffindor table. "And I'm far better at noticing things than any of you are. For example, the Headmaster is at the doorway and he's rubbing his face as though he's trying to remember something."
"Oh, shit," whispered Neville.
"Now he's spied us," continued Gavin, pouring tea for Kitty. "He's not happy but he's not saying anything. He is glaring. Smile everyone, as though this is not something new. Look normal. Pass the plates around. Good. He's stopped glaring. Just looking a little puzzled. Oops, Dobby...but Shuggie is next to him and he's saying something to the Headmaster that has him looking around... Ah, for our dear Professor McGonagall."
Zeffy checked over her shoulder just enough to see that Gavin's commentary was right on as she helped herself to sausages and toast.
"And there she is. Coming in from the door behind the head table. She's smiling at him, nodding. I've decided that the woman is a goddess, you know. She needs to be worshiped, especially if she carries this off."
At Gavin's reverential awe, Harry swallowed his mouthful of tea very carefully. Blaise had less success with his and some of it trickled out of a corner of his mouth. Neville thoughtfully passed him a napkin.
"She's coming to the front of the dais. I wonder..."
The sound of clapping hands got the attention of everyone in the Hall. It had been less noisy than normal as the students entering had all realised that the 'exiles' were once more sitting together, and were discussing the situation in hushed tones.
"May I have your attention."
Harry appreciated how she had pitched her voice to carry to every corner of the Hall.
"I have some very good news to share with all of you."
Oh, yeah?
"I am certain that Professor Snape's condition has been worrying many of you."
At least she was honest enough to know that 'all' would have been a gross exaggeration.
"I am delighted to be able to report that the Professor regained consciousness early this morning..."
"Oh, oh. The Headmaster isn't happy to hear that," commented Gavin.
Harry switched his focus from McGonagall to the Headmaster, whom he should have been watching. Maybe Gavin had been right to sit at the head that way.
"He spoke and understood when he was spoken to."
No, the Headmaster was definitely not delighted to hear that. Slytherin table was. They cheered. Well, most of them did. As did several at Ravenclaw. Those around him joined in and Harry cheered the loudest of the bunch. He did it all the while staring at Dumbledore, daring him to notice.
But he didn't; the Headmaster was only watching McGonagall.
Who waited until the cheers dropped to add, "Unfortunately, his injuries are still very severe and Madam Pomfrey has declared that he is to have no visitors until she feels Professor Snape is well enough to receive them without their tiring him. I know that many of you will want to send him your best wishes for recovery and, to that end, a basket has been placed outside the Infirmary door. You may place any card you wish to send him in it. Madam Pomfrey asks that nothing else be placed there for the foreseeable future as she needs to keep the Professor in as sterile a room as possible due to the extent of his injuries. But she assured me not five minutes ago that with quiet and care, Professor Snape will make a full recovery."
Then, to select cheers, she turned and faced the Headmaster.
"Shit," muttered Gavin, "I really wish I could lip-read."
"Maybe it's better that you can't," said Kitty as she held out her cup for him to refill. "I don't think I would like to hear what they're saying to each other. Enough now. Eat. We've got classes in less than ten minutes."
Harry nodded. "I think it's safe to say that Professor McGonagall can take care of herself."
Gavin shook his head. "Doesn't mean I can't worry."
"Doesn't mean that all of us can't worry," said Blaise. "But right now, the best thing we can do is behave as though this were an ordinary day."
**********
Quid 2, Post 53
Lines Are Drawn.
**********
Minerva McGonagall knew that when she turned, she would be facing the direct glare of the Headmaster.
That she had expected it did not make it less intense. She could actually feel a shiver run up her spine.
"Professor McGonagall..."
Those sitting at the head table were the only ones who could hear him amidst the sound of students rushing off to deal with first classes. They all froze at the tone of repressed anger.
Every word out of his mouth had a bitten quality to it. "I gave orders that certain students were not to sit together. Dobby informs me that you have decided to override my instructions."
Minerva was conscious of every eye on her. The staff would not get involved, but they were not going to miss out on what would probably be an intense blow-up between the Headmaster and his Deputy. Professor Flitwick had indeed stood himself up on the seat of his chair in order to catch all the action.
Minerva stood with her feet braced - prepared for any reaction from the Headmaster - and, raising her chin, addressed the Headmaster in a cold voice.
"Misses Parfitt, Strange, Misters Black..."
"I know who they are," snarled the Headmaster.
Minerva continued as though there had been no interruption. "Potter, Bennett, Longbottom, and Zabini..."
The Headmaster took a step forward, his face white.
Flitwick surreptitiously went for his wand.
Minerva met his glare. "...are all Under My Protection."
That actually stopped the Headmaster from approaching any closer.
"Oh, dear," sputtered Professor Sprout.
Professor Flitwick cleared his throat. "Just for purposes of clarity, Minerva, would that be an 'under my', err, 'under your protection' with or without capitalisation?"
Minerva's eyes hadn't left the Headmaster's. "Capitalised, Filius."
"Yes, hmmm, I thought that might be the case."
"Is that truly necessary?" The Headmaster tried to look disdainful, but everyone could hear the words strained between clenched teeth.
"In my mind, there can be no doubt," asserted Minerva.
Professor Sprout nervously gathered her things. "Well, then, I'm certain that Gavin Bennett is in very safe hands. Must be off. Greenhouse Number Four today with the First Years, don't you know."
Professor Flitwick was not that easy to satisfy. "Minerva? I need more than just your say-so."
She nodded, her eyes never leaving the Headmaster. "Tea in my office later this morning?"
"That shall have to do. If I feel that the situation does not warrant the members of my House being Under Your Protection, Minerva, I will insist that you respect my decision."
"Of course, Filius."
The small charms professor humphed, slipped his wand back into his sleeve and hopped down from the chair.
That was the signal for the others to follow suit. After a few hurried glances over shoulders, Minerva and the Headmaster were alone.
"Under Your Protection?" The Headmaster was not pleased.
Minerva didn't blame him; though very old, dating back to the origins of Hogwarts, this custom had not been called up in centuries.
"And what's this about Severus being kept in a sterile environment? When last I checked with Poppy..."
"Things have changed since then, Albus. Severus has been moved to a secure room. Like yourself, Poppy doesn't want any more surprises where Severus is concerned. His chances of full recovery are a little less than I claimed. She wants no chance of relapse. Once, to her mind, was once too many."
She had to give Albus credit; he didn't show any sign of guilt or even an uneasy conscience when she said that. He really was as far gone as he'd proven himself to be in the Chamber.
"We need to discuss this situation further in my office, Professor McGonagall."
"Unfortunately," though she didn't sound particularly saddened, "I have a class waiting for me. And you heard me commit my morning tea break to Filius."
"Minerva!"
She ignored the specks of spittle that landed on her face. She really had pushed him too far, but she also really didn't want an interview with him until...
A large owl dove at them, hovering over the Headmaster, trying to find a place to land.
"What?!" snarled the Headmaster, trying to dodge the large wings.
"Looks to be an official messenger," Minerva pointed out, directing the owl to the table. It landed a little awkwardly and tried to balance on one foot, kicking out with the other. "Yes, yes. Do try to stand still. You're moving about too much to remove the message."
Minerva reached over and offered the huffing owl a large piece of bacon to soothe it, then managed to undo the red ribbon that held the small scroll. "It's addressed to you, Headmaster," she said, holding it out.
He snatched it from her, his face reddening at having to direct his attention elsewhere.
"What the... Oh, for Merlin's sake! He can't be serious!"
"Headmaster?"
Dumbledore seemed to have forgotten that just a minute earlier he had been on the verge of hexing her. He read the message again. "It's from Scrimgeour. He needs me at the Ministry. Seems the representative of the Arabian Ministry has arrived for talks about...about sand oil."
Minerva raised an eyebrow. Sand oil was a rare, precious commodity that was a necessary ingredient of Floo powder. It didn't require a great deal, just one drop per ten kilograms, but without it, one might as well try to floo with ashes from a fireplace. Britain had had a one hundred year contract for the oil with the Arabian Ministry, but those one hundred years were at an end. And the Arabian Minister had decided that he wanted a better deal this time round.
"But why does Scrimgeour need you? What do you have to do with sand oil?"
"The diplomat who has arrived for negotiations is Sinjin Nesraddine."
Minerva was stunned. "Nes? Our Nes?"
The Headmaster didn't look up. "So it seems. He's requested my presence. Seems he thinks that the negotiations will be more above-board if I partake."
Minerva offered thanks to Mother Earth. Nes had been a class- and House-mate of Minerva's. He was charming, generous and had always needed everything explained to him many times over before he could grasp a concept. He'd been the bane of their teachers the five years he'd attended Hogwarts while his father had been Arabian Ambassador to Britain.
Minerva sighed. She'd been very fond of Nes, as they had all been, and had tried to tutor him in Transfiguration. The problem with Nes was that until he'd caught and mastered a concept, he easily lost ground with any kind of disruption, such as the need to sleep. Nes was a dedicated proponent of naps.
She had missed him when he'd returned to his country to finish his studies, but had, along with all his instructors, been relieved at no longer having to try and get him to understand concepts that seemed so reasonable and simple to everyone else. Minerva had run into him now and then, at some convention, only to find that he hadn't changed. He was the heart of any party and still needed the simplest thing explained over and over again.
With Nes involved, it might be weeks before Albus would be back.
"Just remember that the simpler the explanation, the faster Nes grasps it," she counselled, almost, but not quite, feeling sorry for the Headmaster.
He grunted in response, pocketed the message and turned to deal with the matter. He was half-way out of the Hall when he spun around to glare at her. "This is only a postponement. I shall be back once I know what schedule these negotiations will be following. We will have that little talk, Professor McGonagall."
Minerva hoped she managed to hide her relief. "Of course we will, Headmaster."
He humphed, not believing her.
But that was all right; after all, she no longer believed anything he said.
As she hurried off to her first class of the day, Minerva made a mental note to send a case of firewhiskey to Alastor Moody as a thank you for such quick action on his part. She'd only contacted him the previous afternoon, after her meeting with Gavin. All she'd asked was for him to find a way of getting Albus away from Hogwarts for a few days. She wondered what strings he had had to pull to have their old House-mate assigned to the negotiations.
**********
Quid 2, Post 54
Awakening Thoughts.
**********
The first thing he was aware of was the warmth. He wasn't cold and he somehow knew that he'd recently been very cold.
He kept his eyes closed because it seemed simpler to do so. That didn't mean that he didn't check out his environment. Besides the warmth, there was the softness of clothing on his body. A nightshirt from the feel of it and the fact that his legs were bare and covered.
The weight of bedclothes, the line that ended at his neck, told him he was in bed.
Not his own bed, however. The room he was in didn't have the smells of his. Not the aroma of old books that lined one of the walls, not the whisper of potions that permeated his clothing.
So where was he? More importantly, why was he here?
He wanted to find his wand and suddenly realised that his hand was covered with a cloth of some kind. Not a glove, nor a mitten. But...
Oh, shit!
A bloody bandage.
He must be in the Infirmary again!
But...the perfume of antiseptic was missing.
And, now that he thought about it, this bed was far larger than the cots Poppy favoured. His feet usually rested against the foot board when he lay in one of her beds.
He twitched a foot, carefully feeling for something solid, and felt nothing of the kind. So, a long bed.
Where the hell was he?
"Severus, I know you're awake, dear. I'm going to take your pulse so don't be startled when I touch you."
Poppy.
A warm hand against his throat and the slight pressure of fingertips on the pulse point.
Severus slowly opened his eyes and squinted against the light.
"Much better. I'm very pleased with the way you're healing."
Healing.
Why was Poppy so ple...
Voldemort!
Cruciatus!
Severus fully opened his eyes, feeling the sudden urge to scream.
"It's all right, Severus." Hands rested lightly on his shoulders, keeping him from moving. "You're safe. It's all right, dear. You have nothing to worry about. Look at me, Severus."
He wanted to pull away. He wanted to run and hide. He wanted...
"Look at me!"
...to look at Poppy.
He did.
And there she was, in her starched glory, face worried as she held him down.
"Good. Now I don't want you moving. I've worked hard to put you back together and I don't want you undoing my good work."
Yes. Poppy. Warm, healing hands; gruff voice. He was safe. She said so.
"Where..."
Was that his voice? He didn't recognise it in the least. His throat...
"Where are you? You're in a safe part of Hogwarts. You're home and you're safe, Severus."
Hogwarts? Of course he was safe at Hogwarts.
He thought about that as Poppy left his field of vision. He turned his head slightly and saw her stooped over a small table by the bed, a table that was piled with bottles and vials.
She picked several up and poured different doses into a glass.
Oh, hell. He hated it when she had to put that many together. The taste...
He found himself grimacing at the thought of forcing the contents of that glass down.
"How...bad..."
Merlin, his throat hurt. There had better be a soothing potion in that mess, otherwise giving his report to Dumbledore... What report? That he'd walked into a torture session and that, somehow, he seemed to have walked out. Well, probably not walked, but he was here in Hogwarts, not the cemetery that had been the point of apparation when he'd been Summoned.
Poppy slipped her hand under his head and raised it enough so that he wouldn't choke on the potions.
"Easy now. Get these down and I have a glass of water ready for you."
Which meant the taste was going to be... Oh, damn it all! Bitter and...bloody godawful.
The water chaser didn't help much, but he gulped it down, suddenly realising how thirsty he was.
"Very good."
Severus scraped the top of his tongue against his upper teeth. Why was it that he never remembered how foul combinations could be? He must remember to do something about the taste of medical potions.
But he seemed to remember telling himself the same thing last time and he still hadn't. This time...
"Would you like some broth, Severus?"
He'd really like answers, but broth seemed to be a much better idea.
"I suppose you're brimming with questions."
The spoonful of broth was ambrosia. It rinsed the last of the aftertaste of the potions out of his mouth and it was hot. Not so hot that he couldn't swallow, but soothingly hot against the rawness of his throat.
"As I said, you're safe here at Hogwarts. We... Minerva and I, that is...we moved you from the Infirmary to this safe room because we were afraid that someone might try to finish off what You-Know-Who started."
There was something in her voice that caught his attention and he knew he should be paying closer attention, but the next spoonful of broth was at his lips and that seemed more important right now.
"You are very lucky to be alive, Severus Snape."
He managed to raise his eyes up to her face. Poppy had that most serious of expressions on her face. So...it had been that bad, eh?
"I shan't bore you with a list of what was damaged. Frankly, the list of what wasn't would be much, much shorter, but all you need to know right now is that you must behave. No rushing to get out of bed."
Bloody hell, he doubted that he could raise his head without her help. No, he certainly wouldn't be rushing out of bed. Mind... His classes?
"Albus has asked Slughorn to return to take your classes over until I give you a clean bill of health."
Slughorn? Oh, shit. The man would play havoc with his classes. His bloody favourites would... Damn it all to hell!
"Which I have no intention of doing any time soon. Severus, pay attention to me!"
He glared up at her.
Poppy shook her head. "Well, whom did you think he'd get to replace you? Some twit like we have doing DADA? Yes, I know that Slughorn wouldn't be your first choice, but you can be certain that Minerva will be keeping a close eye on him. What? Oh, why Minerva? Well, because the Headmaster will be spending some time at the Ministry. Seems they've called on him for some special negotiations of some kind. Minerva is acting Headmistress. You'll have to ask her for the specifics when she visits. Now then, forget about all that and just concentrate on getting better. Start by finishing this broth."
Oh, bloody hell! Did the woman...not realise the damage Slughorn's little games would cause? Philo...mena Grimsby was a brilliant brewer...even if she was Hufflepuff. But she had no...note-worthy connections. Slughorn...wouldn't pay the least amount of...attention to her and she was working...on a potion of her own invention that...
Poppy smiled when she realised that Severus had fallen asleep between two spoonfuls of broth.
**********
Quid 2, Post 55
A Common Room.
**********
Zeffy and Kitty were standing just inside the room, looking at the stacks of boxes and furniture that were piled to the ceiling.
"What do you think?"
Zeffy shrugged. This was Kitty's idea. Anything Kitty wanted was all right by her.
"Maybe we should ask the others?"
Zeffy thought about that. Seemed to her that the only 'other' who really mattered in all this was Professor McGonagall. And she was rather busy right now, what with having to juggle the Headmaster's work with her own.
The whole school had been rather surprised when Professor McGonagall had announced at luncheon that the Headmaster had been called away to the Ministry, to engage in negotiations on its behalf. Surprised and just a bit proud that their Headmaster's presence was really so crucial for an important matter.
So asking her for her opinion on such a relatively minor matter seemed inappropriate to Zeffy.
"I have an idea," she offered. "Archy!"
"Miss Strange. Miss Parfitt. What can Archy do to serve you?"
Kitty smiled at the house-elf and Zeffy swallowed the snicker that wanted out when the house-elf blushed. Kitty had that kind of power over most males.
"Archy. I think if we're to remain in the tower, we really need a room in which to gather. We shouldn't be convening in bedrooms. First of all, they're much too small for the seven of us to meet in comfortably, and secondly, they are bedrooms after all. Not really proper."
Archy was listening with great intentness to Kitty. He considered a moment about that last comment, his eyes darkening. "No, Miss Parfitt is perfectly correct. Not proper at all."
Kitty rewarded him with yet another smile and a small pat on the shoulder. Zeffy averted her eyes as the house-elf melted.
"Now this room," she gestured to the storeroom that was on the level below their bedrooms, "would be much more acceptable if we could only empty it."
Archy tore his eyes away from Kitty to glance at the room.
"Is there anything important here that couldn't be moved to another storeroom?"
Archy gave the room a more serious look-over. He grimaced, squinted, rubbed his ears then sniffed loudly. With a smile, he turned back to Kitty.
"No, Miss Parfitt. Nothing. Is mainly things left over from old headmasters and headmistresses. Broken furniture and things no one wants."
Kitty's delighted laughter filled the room. "Do you think you could help us, Archy?"
Frankly, in Zeffy's opinion, Archy would walk through fire right now if Kitty asked him to.
"I know that Professor McGonagall doesn't want just any house-elf to come into this tower, but I don't want you doing this alone. You just tell us where to send the boxes and other stuff and we'll take care of it."
Archy looked horrified at the idea of Kitty doing anything so mundane. Zeffy decided it was time to interfere. "Kitty is dying to see what's in the boxes, Archy."
"I am not."
"You are too. Your worst defect is your curiosity."
"Curiosity," interjected Archy, scandalised, "is not a defect!" He simpered up at Kitty. "Archy will deal with the boxes that contain nothing interesting. But there are some old trunks that Miss Parfitt..."
"Please, Archy, do call me Kitty."
Zeffy rolled her eyes. Hermione Granger boasted that she had the house-elves' interest at heart. But she didn't understand the nature of house-elves and their need to serve. Right now, Archy would do his best to move the Earth off its orbit if Kitty asked him to try.
"What are you up to?"
Zeffy looked over her shoulder at Gavin. "We're going to clear this space out for a common room."
"Oh," Gavin stepped in, smiled at Archy who barely knew Gavin was there, and looked around the room. "Not much bigger than our bedroom, but it would be nice to have a place to come to when Neville and Blaise need some privacy. Could we have a comfortable couch? Just for naps and such?"
It didn't take long.
Zeffy and Gavin checked the contents of the boxes and the condition of the furniture that Kitty approved or disapproved, and Archy sent the rejects off to who-knew-where.
As the semi-circular room emptied, the floor proved to be parquet under the dust and dirt; the outer walls, stone; the ceiling, twelve feet above, painted with a scene of the Founders - appropriate, said Gavin, considering that all four Houses were represented among them; and the windows, some nine feet high, leaded in a diamond pattern.
Kitty approved the use of several trunks as tables to support the lamps they'd found. That the trunks were revealed to hold robes and gowns that were hundreds of years old delighted Kitty so, that Archy didn't bother offering to remove them. Zeffy herself was pleased when they opened one of the trunks to discover undergarments of the most intriguing kind. She glanced over at Kitty, who blushed very promisingly at the black and red silk thing that Zeffy held in her hand.
Gavin had his head stuck in the trunk, ohhing and ahhing at the contents. Zeffy thought she might have to fight him for use of some of the undergarments, but Gavin put everything back in and smirked rather salaciously, "One night, we shall all have to play dress-up. Or dress-down in this case."
Archy found a long couch somewhere, which passed Gavin's test for comfort, a shorter one and several armchairs that would give everyone a place to sit. They discovered several rolled up carpets that had the emblem of Hogwarts woven into them. Archy gave them a precursory cleansing on the spot and placed them on the floor to Kitty's satisfaction.
The fireplace needed more work than he could provide at the moment, but Archy promised them that, by morning, the room would be more than ready for them. And it seemed he remembered seeing some curtains stored elsewhere in the castle that would match the carpets, if that's what Miss Kitty would like.
Miss Kitty would indeed.
Archy blushed again and disappeared, off to find something else that he thought Kitty would appreciate.
Gavin plopped himself onto the couch, stretched out and yawned.
"Going to sleep here tonight?" Zeffy asked as she pulled Kitty down next to her on the other couch. "The room's not all that warm."
"Nah. In my own bed. They've had enough time." He sighed dramatically. "Ah, young love!"
Kitty snuggled up to Zeffy and rested her head on a strong shoulder. "You have someone in mind for yourself, Squeakie?"
Gavin glared at her. Zeffy noticed he didn't bother wasting his breath protesting at the nickname.
"There are too many fish in the sea, and I'm far too young to be paired up for life like some of you."
Zeffy wrapped her arm around Kitty's waist and held her closer. "For life?"
Gavin yawned. "You two and Neville and Blaise..." He yawned again. "Not to mention Potter and the so-called Black."
"And you know this, how?" Kitty pulled her legs up under her and curled closer into Zeffy.
"My dears," Gavin waved away Kitty's query with unconcern. "It's one of my many talents. I can always tell. One hundred years from now, you two will still be together. Can you doubt me?"
Zeffy thought about one hundred years with Kitty and felt an overwhelming sense of rightness and contentment. "No."
Kitty smiled at Zeffy then raised an eyebrow. "Only one hundred, eh? I'd better not catch you fooling around with anyone else at that point."
"Ladies, please. No cat fights."
Both Zeffy and Kitty groaned aloud at that.
Gavin snickered. "Been wanting to say that for the longest time," he admitted.
Kitty hit him with a small pillow.
**********
on to the next part