He leaps out of bed, wand in hand. The clock strikes three.
Although he is no longer Headmaster, the school still recognises him as such. He still gets the alert when a student is admitted to the infirmary after hours.
He casts a Disillusionment Charm so strong he is invisible, freezes in his nightgown, and considers what to do next. He isn't Headmaster. He isn't even Deputy Headmaster.
The Floo of the hospital wing doesn't flare green as he steps out—another bonus from the castle.
His heart catches in his throat when he sees a student in one of the beds.
It's Potter. His hair is a travesty, and his mother's eyes are closed.
Mouth dry, Severus pads over to see shallow and rapid breaths and a wrinkle on his brow. He permits himself to draw nearer, and his fingers brush the tips of the multidirectional hair. Potter's skin is lily-white, and dark circles underline his eyes.
Severus digs for the pulse in his neck—his skin is chilly—his heart beats in allegro. Not good.
Poppy bustles in, with Minerva at her heels. There's a commotion outside the doors, which they lock and silence. Does no one sleep in this school?
He is silent as a doe.
"Is it Dark, Poppy?" Minerva asks.
"It's the only diagnosis I can arrive at. He's stabilised for now to buy some time. I wanted to check if we should admit him to St Mungo's or get Severus's input first. I would've called for him straight away, but..."
"You should have," Minerva says. "Fetch him directly."
This may be a minor hiccough. Minutes pass as Poppy frantically calls for him in his quarters. Minerva rests the back of her hand against Potter's forehead and tucks him in tighter.
When Poppy returns to the patient's bed, he counters the Disillusionment Charm and hurries up to them both.
"What the devil is Potter embroiled in now?" Severus asks.
Minerva jumps. "Oh, Severus, I'm so glad you're here! Poppy believes some kind of Dark Magic has befallen him."
"Stand back," Severus commands.
"Poppy, please wake his Head of House," says Minerva.
For many minutes, he twirls his wand and whispers an incantation that sounds almost like a song.
Then, he sinks into a chair beside the bed, and wipes sweat from his forehead.
When Septima arrives in her towelling dressing gown, she peers at him as though he is a naughty schoolboy. "Well? Can you explain what has happened?" Septima asks.
Condescending bitch.
He addresses Minerva instead. "I cannot say for certain. I can only guess."
Poppy has fetched a small portrait of Professor Dumbledore who pipes up, "Then guess, my boy!"
Finally. Someone with a brain is here.
"Albus. He has been tainted by Dark Magic. It is likely when his magic reached maturity, a dormant contamination manifested itself. He will grow colder." He clenches his fists. "As I had not been called earlier, there is nothing I can do."
Albus raises his eyebrows. "Nothing?"
"Nothing sensible."
Of course. Of bloody course. No expense spared, nothing too much trouble, no person too valuable to shield Potter from harm, and why not? It's not as though he planned to live this long—
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The Space Between Failing and Falling • Snarry •
FanfictionA very long time ago, Severus resigned himself to the reality that he doesn't have a soulmate after all. He's finally a real Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and his life is perfectly tolerable, thank you very much. However, at the age of thirt...
