Dumbledore's bedside manner
Lucius Malfoy ended the Cruciatus curse, glaring down at the dark, crumpled figure at his feet. "After all I've done for you, you ungrateful little git," he said, his hair mussed and his expression wrathful. There was a long cut on his cheek that was bleeding, and he touched it gingerly, glaring at the sight of blood.
"You dare to hex me? You dare to spill a Malfoy's blood? You are fortunate that I even look at you, Severus Snape! Son of a Muggle," he spat, and raised his wand again. "Crucio!"
Severus tensed all over again, his throat clamping shut painfully as he rolled over onto his other side, spasming in agony.
"Make a sound," Lucius shouted, twisting his wand venemously, and pain doubled through Severus' already exhausted form. "Say something! Do something! You will acknowledge me!"
If it would have stopped his nerves being on fire, Severus gladly would have made a sound, only he could not tell his throat what to do any longer. He wasn't breathing, and speech was a little impossible.
Just before he thought that surely he would black out, the curse ended.
Severus bit down on the sleeve of his robes to keep from chewing up his own lip like last time as the spasms wracked him. He wondered if this was what it was like to have a seizure.
He took a large, desperate gulp of air and opened his bleary eyes. There was his wand lying on Malfoy's expensive carpet, only a few feet away, but seeming like miles.
"I would torture you until you went mad from it if I didn't think I'd get into trouble for it," Lucius said angrily. "Speak," he shouted, and kicked Severus in the kidneys.
"Don't kick me!" Severus blurted, using his remaining strength to roll towards his wand.
He was on his back, but he flung his arm out and groped blindly for his wand, and the moment his fingers wrapped around the handle, he Disapparated.
A moment later, he was home, but he didn't intend to stay there. Remus was out, so there was no one to help him. He had to get to the fireplace, but even Apparating right in front of it didn't make getting the powder any easier. Severus swung a fist and knocked the bucket over, then scooped up as much as he could in trembling fingers. It all seemed to want to slip through his hands and go everywhere, but finally his sweat managed to collect enough that he thought he'd make it.
He half-crawled, half-wriggled into the fireplace and slapped the stones with his palms, which was enough of an impact to ignite the Floo powder and send a hot sensation through his hands. "Hogwarts Infirmary," he croaked, and then fell into the whirling network, which shook him up and jarred him about and banged his limbs with every painful twist and turn. He didn't have the coordination to keep them tucked in.
Severus rolled out of the Floo and across the floor of the Hogwarts infirmary, went hot and then cold very fast, and promptly threw up.
There was a patter of gasps, followed by a flurry of activity as Poppy Obliviated two Hufflepuff fourth years and shooed them out the door. She locked it and spun to hurry towards him.
"Severus Snape!" she exclaimed in a whisper. "What have you done to yourself this time? Where's Remus?" She flicked her wand, levitating him to the bed she privately thought of as Remus and Severus' private ward.
Severus was very grateful for Poppy's quick thinking and the invention of memory charms. He landed gently on the bed (though everywhere his skin touched felt like fire crawling across his flesh), gasping for breath as if he'd just run miles. "Remus gone."
"Gone?" Poppy gasped, a note of fear in her voice. "Severus, what happened? Was it--was there a battle?" She flicked her wand, sending a silvery streak of light out of the Infirmary. Then she turned her attention to Severus, carefully but quickly working to find his injuries.
Severus shook his head, still feeling out of breath no matter how much air he sucked into his lungs. He felt so drained of energy, and he was still in so much pain. He knew she wanted answers from him, but he didn't have the strength to give them.
"Is Remus still out there?" Poppy demanded. "Do I need to send someone for him?"
Before Severus could answer, the door to the Infirmary slammed open, hitting the wall and bouncing back. Dumbledore stopped it with a wave of his hand, then flicked his fingers and slammed it shut. He was already halfway down the length of the ward.
"What has happened?" he asked, looking formidable despite the way his hat was askew and he was wearing only a purple dressing gown with matching slippers. "Poppy? Severus?" He strode to Severus' side.
Severus flinched at the quickness with which Dumbledore approached the bed, shaking his head as best he could and hoping Poppy would know what he meant. He felt a wave of frustration, wishing she would just give him the same potions she had last time and maybe one to sleep, but it was still too draining to even try to make himself speak.
He told himself he would try again, perhaps after the next spasm passed.
"He said Remus is gone, Headmaster!" Poppy said. She had collected several bottles, but her hands were hesitating. "He has no obvious injuries, so I suspect at least the Cruciatus Curse--this looks like what I've seen in the few victims we've recovered alive."
Dumbledore frowned. "No, Remus is safe--or should be--far from here. Severus..." He bent to look Severus in the eye. "Can you tell us what happened?"
Poppy breathed a sigh. "A pain potion," she suggested, holding a bottle up.
"Severus, what happened?" Dumbledore asked again, concern deepening on his face. He placed a hand on Severus' shoulder, very lightly. "Will you allow me to see?"
No, Merlin no, Severus immediately thought. He didn't want Dumbledore to see any of that, he determined, tossing his head, his expression fearful, but all he could do was groan. It even hurt to move his bloody head.
"Severus, my dear boy," Dumbledore murmured, kneeling and trying to catch Severus' gaze. "Was it the Cruciatus? You must show me what happened. Poppy cannot help you if we don't know."
Severus let out an unconscious whimper, but nodded his head. He would do anything, at this point, to feel some relief.
Dumbledore rested his hand on Severus' head, brushing the hair out of his eyes. Warm blue eyes met anguished black ones...then, ever so gently, Dumbledore pushed.
They put little Draco to bed together, all three of them, and then Narcissa announced that she was retiring as well, her expression hopeful, and Severus knew she was hoping he and Lucius would repair the rift between them.
Severus tried to make his excuses, but Lucius would not hear of it, leading him into the drawing room and pouring drinks down his throat. When the room grew warm and Severus thought he had stayed late enough to make a getaway, he stood and took a few steps, again trying to take his leave.
Lucius, his cheeks flushed, immediately had Severus backed against the wall. One hand rested casually against it while the other sought out some slack in the fabric of Severus' robes to draw the bottom up. Severus tried to shift away, but Lucius pinned him, slurring softly into his ear.
"Don't you miss this?" he coaxed, hitching up the fabric and working a knee between Severus' legs. "Those drugged fucks from strangers in clubs can't possibly compare, love."
Severus laughed, hollow and bitter, shoving at Lucius' arms. "You did not just call me 'love'. Let me go; I told you months ago I wouldn't do this any longer."
"I'll make it enjoyable for you," Lucius promised, his lips whispering against Severus' ear. "I'll make you scream my name."
"You never could before," Severus spat, his anger and fear both rising as he struggled to get Lucius' hands away from his pants. The room had cooled at an alarming rate.
"I made you what you are, you could at least be more grateful," Lucius hissed, biting the ear lobe under his lips.
Severus made a warning noise, letting go of Malfoy's hands to fumble through his robes for his wand. Lucius took the opening when he saw it, yanking the elastic of Severus' pants down and wrapping a hand around his flaccid prick.
"Not happy to see me? You will be."
Severus jerked, panicking as the seconds ticked by, and Lucius stuck his tongue in Severus' ear. He let out a noise of relief when he yanked his wand out, shoving the point into Lucius' ribs. "Get off!"
Lucius pulled back, surprised, staring at the wand dumbly for a few seconds before scowling at Severus. "You put that away this instant, you filthy little half-blood. Just for that, I think I'll make you suck me."
Lucius gripped Severus' hair tightly, pushing down, but Severus cast a slashing hex that caught Lucius' robes at his stomach and made him stumble backwards with a noise of surprised pain.
"Stay away from me," Severus hissed, pulling his pants up and his robes down and glaring for all he was worth. "I told you you weren't ever allowed to touch me again and I meant it!"
"You want it," Lucius spat, drawing his own wand.
Severus felt a blind flash of hatred and whipped his wand towards Lucius' face. A cut appeared instantly, running the length of his cheek and jaw, and Lucius stumbled back, snarling.
"Crucio!"
Severus just barely managed to stifle a cry, not having expected an Unforgiveable for that. He slashed at Lucius, but had no idea if it connected as he doubled over and hit the ground.
The pain was incredible, and so familiar by now that he almost instantly wanted to die, rather than have to keep going through it. He thrashed and tensed, drawing in his limbs, and watched Lucius' feet approach.
After what felt like hours, the curse ended, but Lucius wasn't done cursing him.
The memory continued on, not ending until Severus dragged himself into the infirmary and was sick on the floor.
When Dumbledore withdrew from his mind and Severus found himself face down on his bed, he shut his eyes quickly and willed himself not to be sick again.
"My God." Dumbledore's voice was barely audible. He brushed a hand over Severus' hair. "A pain potion, Poppy," he ordered. "It was Cruciatus. Extensive Cruciatus."
Poppy made an angry noise and maneuvered Severus until she could pour a powerful pain potion down his throat, following it quickly with a muscle relaxant. "Headmaster--"
"Could you excuse us, Poppy?" Dumbledore asked. He looked old, his expression sorrowful.
After a moment, she nodded curtly and left.
Dumbledore sighed and helped Severus settle down against the bed, pulling a blanket up to his chest. "Oh, Severus, I am so sorry," he said, his voice heavy.
Severus wanted to tell Dumbledore that he had nothing to be sorry for - it wasn't his fault, after all - but he still didn't trust his voice. At least the pain potion and the muscle relaxant would bring relief soon. That was all he cared about, that was the only reason he'd let the Headmaster see, and now that he had, Severus had no desire to meet Dumbledore's gaze ever again.
He stared at the ceiling, walling up the sudden emotion threatening to break.
"Is he like that often?" Dumbledore asked. "Have I condemned you to this, by forcing you to keep your relationship with Remus a secret?" He sighed and drew up a chair, sitting in it at Severus' bedside. "Remus should be here."
Despite his best efforts, Severus' eyes prickled hotly at Remus' mention. Remus would hate him if he found out. That thought was enough to will speech to come, and he rasped, "Don't tell!" desperately.
"Oh, Severus, Severus," Dumbledore sighed. He rested a hand on Severus' head. "I would never tell Remus what I learn from you through Legilimancy, either in our lessons or tonight." He shook his head. "But you must know he would never blame you for this? He loves you."
Severus blinked back hot tears, wishing he were alone so he could fall apart without worry. He didn't know how to explain, that Remus had always known this went on, and no matter how Severus tried to explain it, seemed to blame Severus for it. But if Dumbledore didn't think Remus would, then he ought not tell him Remus did. Dumbledore liked Remus, and Severus didn't want that to change.
Even now he felt guilt mixed in with the sickness, his stomach roiling unpleasantly.
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Dumbledore asked quietly. "Please trust me, Severus. Let me help."
"I don't know," Severus said, momentarily pleased that he managed three words in one go. He could feel the edge coming off, relief washing through him. "I just wanted a pain potion."
He closed his eyes tightly, but moisture leaked from the corners despite his best efforts, running into his ears.
Dumbledore let out another sigh and stroked Severus' hair as tenderly as if Severus were his own son. "I hate seeing you in pain, Severus," he murmured. "I am so sorry that all too often I am the author of it." Tonight there was little of the formiddable Headmaster in him; he was merely an old man, tired and sorrowful.
Dumbledore was touching his hair so tenderly, just like Remus did, and the thought of Remus again made the tears come harder, despite his best efforts. "Remus found out a while ago," he uttered, the confession spilling just as unwillingly as his tears. He didn't want to tell anything bad about Remus to the headmaster, but he was in such dire need of being told it wasn't his fault again. "He almost left me."
"Remus knows?" Dumbledore repeated in shock. "I am surprised Lucius Malfoy is still...ahhh." His hand stilled for a moment, then resumed stroking Severus' hair. "That explains the Cruciatus he used against Lucius, that night in Dalmellington. But he was foolish enough to threaten to leave you?" Dumbledore's voice conveyed his disappointment. "It was wrong of him, Severus. You are not to blame for Lucius Malfoy's appalling behaviour."
Severus relaxed a bit, feeling lighter. It was so freeing to hear 'you are not to blame' for once. "I always said no, but I started giving in after a while," he admitted, "because it was easier, less painful, to be forced without being forced. But after Remus almost left and I begged him to stay, I stopped giving in again. At first, Lucius was just angry, and he threw me out, so I had to go live with Remus. I suppose tonight had been building for a while."
"And Remus knows you never wanted anything to do with Lucius?" Dumbledore asked. "Severus, you should make him understand. He had no right to be angry at you." He drew in a breath. "Though I cannot blame him if he is angry with Lucius. I am furious with Lucius myself at the moment."
"I told him I never wanted Lucius," Severus uttered, feeling bad again. "Many times."
Dumbledore hesitated. "Are you certain you do not wish for me to speak with Remus?" he asked delicately. "I am well aware of your desire to avoid vulnerability. Would it be easier if someone else spoke for you?"
"No, he'll be angry," Severus insisted, shivering. "It's fine."
"Oh, Severus," Dumbledore said sadly. He Summoned another blanket and spread it out, tucking it up under Severus' chin. "I wish I could take this pain from you."
Severus shut his eyes against a fresh wave of tears. Why was Dumbledore being so nice to him? He didn't understand at first, but then he wondered if he was just trusting too much. He curled his fingers around the edge of the blanket, conflicted. "Do you think he's all right? I miss him."
"I am certain he is," Dumbledore replied. "He sent me a short letter tonight. As a matter of fact..." He reached into his dressing gown and pulled out a curl of parchment. "His letter says, They have spoken with the Death Eaters, but seem inclined to listen to me. If only there were more food, especially for the children. Hopefully they will come to a decision soon." Dumbledore looked over at him. "I imagine there will be a letter waiting for you at home, as well."
Severus fervently hoped so. It would be good to hear from Remus. He hoped for lots of sappy declarations, too. This week was already so hard, and it wasn't even over yet. "Good."
"Is there anything I can get you, my boy?" Dumbledore asked, his hand still on Severus' hair. "Something to drink? Something to eat?"
"I am very thirsty," Severus admitted.
"Tea? Or water?" Dumbledore asked.
"Water, thanks."
Dumbledore nodded and clicked his fingers. A pitcher floated over to him and he poured from it into the glass that followed. "How are you feeling, Severus? Any better?"
Severus nodded, sitting up slowly and accepting the glass. "Much better. Pain's almost gone, feel pretty relaxed."
"I wish I could do something to help, Severus," Dumbledore said slowly. His blue eyes had lost their twinkle. "Perhaps you and Remus could take a holiday. You could tell Tom that I wish you to attend a conference somewhere, in preparation for teaching." He sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I wish that I could free you from this war. But I need your information so badly."
Severus perked up despite himself. "A holiday," he repeated, his hope almost painful. "That would be brilliant."
Dumbledore's expression lightened somewhat. "Do you think you could arrange it?" he asked. "I know it is a small compensation."
"I don't know," Severus admitted. "I'll have to ask Remus."
Dumbledore frowned. "I am asking you, Severus," he said, his voice firm. "Is it something Tom would accept? That is what must first be established. If so, I can easily send Remus on another mission."
Severus blinked, surprised, his gaze focusing on Dumbledore. "I...I think he might. After all, even though he wants me to teach, he is under no delusions that I will be a good teacher. He might like the idea. Help me from getting sacked."
"Good." Dumbledore nodded. "Good. As Remus is between jobs at the moment, he will have no trouble arranging to be away. I suggest you choose somewhere rather secluded for your destination--somewhere that isn't in Europe would be a particularly good idea, I think." He glanced at Severus.
"I'll ask Remus what he wants to do," Severus said quietly.
Perhaps Dumbledore sensed it was the time to stop pushing. He nodded. After a few minutes, he flicked his wand and a cup of hot tea appeared on the bedside table. "Tea, Severus?"
Severus set his empty water glass aside and picked up the tea cup. "Thank you." Now that he had quenched his thirst, hot tea sounded very good.
Dumbledore nodded, then Summoned a cup for himself. "I only wish there were more I could do."
"I appreciate you listening," Severus said slowly, regretting it somewhat now but it was too late for that. "And not telling Remus."
Dumbledore nodded again, his expression grave. "Of course. You have my word, Severus. Though I still feel you should speak with him about it; I am sorely disappointed in him, that he would react so badly. Rest assured, Severus, I do not blame you for this. You are not to blame."
Severus nodded, though he frowned. "I wish you wouldn't be disappointed in him. He really respects and admires you." Less now because of how Dumbledore liked to use Severus, though he'd have never given Dumbledore a chance if Remus hadn't respected him.
He sipped his tea, and thought that after he finished, he might sleep.
"As you no doubt respect and admire Remus," Dumbledore said. "But I am certain that doesn't keep you from becoming angry or frustrated with Remus, either." Dumbledore sighed and rested his hand on Severus' shoulder, squeezing gently. "You should rest," he said softly.
Severus nodded, then drank his tea. "Feeling tired."
"Would you like me to ask Poppy for a sleeping draught?" Dumbledore asked. "I will stay with you, if you want to sleep."
Nodding again, Severus yawned into his tea cup. "Thank you."
Dumbledore left for a moment, and when he came back, he had a small, blue bottle in his hand. "She said you could take the whole bottle if you like. She also said the aroma should tell you what it is, so you can decide for yourself." He raised an eyebrow as he looked at Severus, but held the bottle out.
Severus arched both eyebrows at Dumbledore, but took the bottle and uncorked it for a smell. Dreamless sleep, he might've known. Still. He wasn't eager to dream, after the evening he'd had.
Debating a moment, he tilted the bottle back and drank it down.
Dumbledore took the bottle Severus handed back to him, then watched as Severus settled back down into bed. After a moment, the Headmaster reached out and ran a hand over Severus' hair again. "Sleep well," he murmured.
Severus watched Dumbledore, hoping he would stay as he'd promised but unwilling to ask again even to be reassured. His eyes drifted shut, and within minutes, the potion had taken effect.
Dumbledore watched Severus for several minutes after he fell asleep, then snapped his fingers. A book appeared in the air in front of him, and he settled back in a chair. It was going to be a long night.