“beyond wandpoint” 066 by gingerbred
Mar. 21st, 2019 06:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beyondwandpoint“11 11f Tuesday - Meanwhile in the Infirmary”
Hermione, Minerva, Ron, Dean, Nurse Wanda Wainscott, Sunny, Severus, mentioned: Poppy, the Devis, the Grangers, the Snapes Sr., Seamus, Filius, Remus, Polly the Infirmary elf
Originally Published: 2018-03-22 on AO3
Chapter: 066
Pairing: Hermione Granger / Severus Snape
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Hermione only answers half the question. "You thought I had underestimated his condition. That he had taken advantage of me. I need to show you something."
There's something in her tone that has Minerva worried. The fact that their path leads once again in the direction of the Infirmary simply reinforces her concerns. Minutes later the young woman is leading her again to the back room, and Minerva has no doubt whom she'll find there. The only question is what state he is in.
Hermione sails through the Infirmary, the surety of her course carrying Professor McGonagall unerringly in her wake to the back room. The young woman neither hesitates nor looks about, and Minerva simply follows suit.
With all the comings and goings this morning, the screens have been readjusted around Ron and Dean to give them the suggestion of privacy as they breakfast - Ron's still struggling, not quite valiantly, with his gruel - without shielding them entirely from view, but the witches take no particular notice of them as they sweep past. Dean, however, is not so preoccupied. He turns to Ron, "Sure that was Hermione. I told you it was. There she goes again," he asserts, pointing in the direction the women just disappeared.
The mention of her fails to improve Ron's mood. He drags his spoon through the gruel again. He could swear compo might be more palatable. He casts a disgruntled look at Dean's now empty bowl. There's no way his hadn't been better.
"Why do you suppose she's here?" Dean muses, immune to Ron's moods after more than six years of sharing a room with the mercurial ginger, and bored enough to be seeking diversion. Infirmaries don't typically offer much along those lines, unless one provides them oneself in the form of medical emergencies.
Ron's busy not supposing, leaving Dean to have to answer his own question. That doesn't prove much of a hindrance to his conversation. In fact, given Ron's frame of mind, it probably only serves to lighten its tone. "She looks alright," Dean continues, attempting to rule out injury or illness as the cause for her visit. "Pretty good, in fact. What on earth was she wearing?"
Ron gives him a disdainful look, but presumably not for the reason his churlish answer might imply. "Muggle clothes. I thought you of all people would recognise that."
"Well, yeah, but they don't usually look like that..." He waves his hand, tracing a vaguely curvy shape that somehow only makes Ron angrier, gesturing once more after their Housemate. "I mean, she looks fit, right?" Ron glares at him, and Dean feels the sudden need to try that again. "Well, I mean, it's hardly regulation school robes, is it?"
Nurse Wainscott thankfully interrupts when she comes over and enquires if Dean's done with his breakfast. At his, "Yes, thank you," she Banishes his tray to the kitchens with a smile.
"Was everything satisfactory?" Dean nods, smiling back, and Ron snorts. He's not sure if Dean's a suck up or if his breakfast was really that much better than his. That only earns him a, "Tuck in, Mr. Weasley. Madam Pomfrey said you're to finish your breakfast before you leave." Looking at his mush, he wonders if the Matron has it in for him. Given he isn't having Episkeys applied without Pain Relief, the answer is probably 'no', but he's not likely to recognise that fact.
"Now, Mr. Thomas, let's get some of this Salve on you. It wouldn't do to have you scarring." Dean sits up for her, lowering his gown, and she begins to apply the gel to his back.
"Ooo! Merlin! That's cold!" He winces.
She chuckles and waves her wand over the small pot, "Sorry, I should have thought of that. I'll just warm it up for you."
"Much better," he quickly agrees. "Thank you." She continues spreading it carefully over the multitude of small wounds across his face, chest and back.
As she's doing so, the first scream comes from the back room, and all heads turn in that direction. Eminently practised, Wanda flicks her wand towards the rear of the Infirmary and casts a Mediward Silencing Charm, typically used to prevent patients in the throes of particularly painful spells from disturbing the other patients around them. Unfortunately, it's only a temporary measure that ends when the noise levels have returned to normal for a while, but it still does the job nicely as the sounds are indiscernible before any of them have truly even registered them.
Feeling that might be a suitable segue, or at least the best he'll get, although Ron looks patently unconvinced, Dean takes the opportunity to ask, "Say, Nurse Wainscott, was that Hermione that just went past?" He just won't let it go. Ron may have growled. It could have been a breakfast related noise, however.
"Yes, it was. I gather she's visiting Professor Snape in the back room," the Nurse reveals without any trace of misgivings. Poppy wouldn't be pleased.
"Although, I'm not entirely sure why..." she can't help uncertainly adding. Wanda knows Poppy gets on well with the man, but frankly she finds him quite... formidable. Pity he's in their care so often.
And she really can't conceive of anyone seeking him out of their own volition.
Dean takes it for a joke and laughs. Ron - thoroughly disgusted, whether with the food or conversation is anyone's guess - throws his spoon down onto his tray. When the Nurse only looks puzzled at their responses, Dean gets the faintest hint of an inkling, but a few incredulous questions later, and he's determined she's actually serious.
Well, now!
Dean's had a good stay in the Infirmary. He always does. He's a polite boy, impeccably mannered, the solicitous older brother to a number of sisters, and it shows. He's a perfect gentleman with a ready smile. The witches in the Infirmary appreciate these things about him. He makes a frequently trying job that little bit more pleasant. Polly, the Infirmary's house elf, would probably still like him, even if Madam Pomfrey didn't, that's how well he's received.
It's possible as a result that the treatment he gets is just a little better, kinder, warmer than most others obtain. It's also possible Dean responds to that with even more charm, and that's rewarded with more of the same. They're only human after all.
Given their rapport, Dean easily swings into a recitation of yesterday's announcement, and cheerily fills the Nurse in on the news from the previous evening.
Ron's accompanying growl this time is definitely not confined to his still fairly empty stomach.
Wanda Wainscott, like most others on the Infirmary's staff and the majority of the Professors teaching the extra-curricular courses, like Sarah Sapworthy, Xylomancy, and Barrymore Beckford, Ghoul Studies, isn't one of the Hogwarts employees who resides in the castle. Most of the non-residents live in Hogsmeade and are only present during the hours they're working.
As such, the Nurse hadn't been at dinner in the Great Hall last night. There are few meals truly good enough to entice most non-residents to subject themselves to the hordes of students longer than need be. Having missed the staff meeting and isolated as Wanda is in the Infirmary, she had no idea whatsoever about the bondings, and now it's her turn to think the boy is having her on.
Somewhat ironically, it's Mr. Weasley's sullenness that finally goes a ways to convincing her. It seems altogether the wrong reaction were this simply a lark. And still it strikes her as so thoroughly... unbelievable. She avails herself of the chair beside Mr. Thomas' bed, plunks down onto it rather heavily for her lightness of frame, and he garnishes his anecdote by supplying a colourful recounting of the students' reactions to the news.
Goodness.
Poppy naturally hadn't had a chance to tell her about Mr. Devi's tail yet either.
Well.
Dean's rewarded for his forthcomingness when Wanda then provides a little information of her own, and soon they're merrily swapping gossip. She hasn't got much, but what she has she shares all too readily.
There's a blackboard in Poppy's office that each of the nurses checks at the beginning of shift. It's Charmed to list all individuals currently being treated in the Infirmary, when they were admitted, in what condition and why, as well as their present status. That's perhaps not as invulnerable to student pranking as might be advisable, as the Weasley twins had demonstrated quite clearly when they managed to have it report half the Gryffindor Quidditch team as deceased a few years ago.
Poppy had nearly had a coronary of her own, and the boys had spent some quality time with Argus once again. As his office had been the source of useful artefacts over the years, they didn't half mind, and they were both exceedingly accustomed to detentions under his supervision anyway.
Far more robust against tampering, thankfully, the blackboard also summarises what the patients are being treated for, what's been done for them in broad strokes on this particular visit, and what the scheduled treatment is for that day. It aids in keeping track of which Potions need administering when, which is an enormous help. Doubtlessly it's saved the Infirmary staff a lot of time; it's conceivably also saved lives.
Filius had created the Charm for them over two decades ago after a mistake in the dosage of potions administered to Severus, of all people - he really has some of the worst luck, rather late in his fourth year had had severe consequences. Inexplicably, the dosage recorded manually on the blackboard they were using at the time had been mysteriously altered and was off by an order of magnitude, and the student nurse administering the Potions unfortunately hadn't questioned why she was giving the patient twenty phials instead of two.
There it was, white on black. She had simply done as it said. No one could particularly fault her, well, much, not that that provided any consolation for her. She quit the profession soon after, completely traumatised by the experience.
Careful investigation of the staff proved none of them had changed the number, and yet as the portraits could attest, no one had been seen entering the office either. Everyone agreed, half jokingly and very uneasily, whoever did it would have had to have been invisible.
What were the chances of that?
Only Severus' unusual habit of carrying a Bezoar about with him at all times had very narrowly averted tragedy, and still it had taken him weeks to recover from the mishap.
Mistakenly the incident is used in medical teaching circles to illustrate an incidence of 'the cure being worse than the disease'. That makes Severus pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration as it misses the point entirely. He can never emphasise the importance of units enough. As a Potions Master, they're very near and dear to his heart.
Much like Bezoars.
In an ultimately successful effort to ensure such a mistake never happened again, Filius had spent the rest of the spring term, the entire summer and a good portion of the following autumn developing the Charm to automate the process.
He finally prevailed with a truly brilliant series of modifications to the Homonculous Charm, fortunately an obscure but nevertheless quite lovely bit of magic that allows one to track the movements of everyone within a mapped area. It was an extremely creative application of the Charm that shifted the focus from physical location to physical condition and the rest was history, as they say. It wasn't long before Filius was able to sell his Charm on to St. Mungo's and a few other clinics as well, securing himself a tidy nest egg for his eventual retirement.
Remus Lupin, a fifth year by the time of the Charm's completion and one of the Gryffindor Prefects, had assisted the Charms Master invaluably in his research. As he claimed when he volunteered, he was exceptionally good at... fetching any materials required.
It's... possible some of the things Remus learned in the process proved... useful when the Marauder's Map was created not long thereafter. Remus was always... fond of learning.
There are indeed a few drawbacks to the current automagic system, but the advantages far outweigh them. One of the disadvantages would clearly have to be that their overreliance on the board as a means of relaying important information has slowly but surely led to a worsened communication in the Infirmary over the years. Staff no longer brief each other anywhere near as thoroughly as they used to, sometimes not even at all. Whatever for if everything important is clearly recorded?
The problems inherent in that attitude have begun to manifest in things as simple and wide reaching as Poppy not telling her Nurse about the bondings at school over the weekend.
Another drawback would have to be a slight imperfection in the documentation of the reasons for the injuries. It's unclear, although probably wouldn't be were people more honest with one another, if there's a semi-sentience behind it or if it's purely a reflection of the thoughts of the staff and others present at the time the entry is made, but the board has been known to show an uncanny degree of perception as to the causes of the various maladies.
And possibly a questionable sense of humour.
For example just in the past day, it listed the cause of Malfoy's injuries, in addition to the obvious 'Seven-story Fall', as 'Karma'. To the results of Seamus, Dean and Ron's little fracas it tacked on 'Stupidity' as a suffix. And quite astutely to the reasons for Crabbe's allergic reaction it added 'Revenge'.
It's not too significant an aberration. For the most part, it's considered unreliable and irrelevant enough as to be largely ignored. And as imperfections to Charms go, it's fairly inconsequential considering few other than the Infirmary staff ever see the entries on that board and much of it would be considered privileged information anyway. It becomes a little more problematic when staff members are as taken with gossiping as Wanda is, and presumably even more so when the board rather creatively, but not quite inaccurately, lists the reason for Severus' stay as 'Marriage Related Injuries'.
Unfortunately when Wanda seeks to provide Mr. Thomas with a little tit for tat, that's all the information she can provide as to why the Professor was brought in during the past night. When she had first seen the board, she'd been left trying, and failing, utterly, to picture an attack by a jealous husband and the completely improbable witch between them. Having heard Mr. Thomas' story, it now makes a little more sense.
Albeit not much.
Quite naturally, of course, 'Marriage Related Injuries' gets thoroughly misunderstood, certainly no later than the end of second period when Seamus, who will soon stop by to visit Dean and check on his progress before Transfigurations class and winds up hearing the latest on dit, happens to mention it to some Ravenclaws. By lunch, so surprisingly, word seems to have spread all through the castle.
Ron's waxing desire to hex the initial parties involved fuels a renewed attempt on his breakfast. With any luck, he may still make it out of there in time to get some real food from the Great Hall.
Minerva follows Madam Snape into the little room at the Infirmary's rear to discover Severus - surely only half naked, but that's clearly the half on display - once again in the single bed. He appears to be unconscious, at least, she sincerely hopes it's only that. Merlin, he'd only just left the place Sunday...
She can't help noticing how... at ease the young woman seems both with his dishabille and the very visible injuries to his person. Minerva remembers how she'd recoiled at the sight Sunday; Madam Snape by contrast seems unfazed.
Admittedly Hermione's had some time to grow accustomed to his scars. Mostly she just sees him, but when she does take notice of the scars, she finds the suffering they represent frightening, not the scars themselves. And she sports a rather remarkable one herself, after all.
Truthfully, it's not nearly as noticeable as she thinks, but that's often the way of these things. It certainly can't hold a candle to his, but as he'll eventually tell her: it isn't a competition.
The young woman turns to Minerva and by way of explanation informs her, "He had to report our bonding to You-Know-Who yesterday. This is how they thanked him for that little courtesy. They tortured and half killed him for it, and he barely made it back alive.
"I'm not being overly dramatic, Professor," Hermione hastens to assure her Transfigurations Professor, "but I understand if you feel you can't simply take my word for it. That's fair enough. But if you can't believe what I'm saying, please, please ask Madam Pomfrey..."
There's something in her tone that lets Minerva know there's already been too much of that - not taking her at her word. The poor woman. The Head of Gryffindor deeply regrets challenging their motives for the bonding Sunday, for all the good it does now.
"That won't be necessary, Madam Snape. I'm more than prepared to believe he's here for very good reason. I'm just sorry that's the case."
"He was in such terrible shape when I found him last night, lying unconscious in the snow in front of the gates..." Hermione tells her, clearly very affected by the ordeal.
"What were you doing outside the gates at night?" Minerva asks sharply, more than a little alarmed. The young woman had only just been attacked herself a matter of days ago. Leaving Severus half dead before the gates and taking advantage of their bond and Vows sounds like a brilliant and terrifying plan to lure her back into their clutches, if - as Severus and Albus seem to think - 'their' ability to reach her on the school grounds has truly been properly curtailed.
"Trying to make sure he didn't die, Professor. I gather it was very close initially. Madam Pomfrey had her hands full trying to save him." Hermione sounds a little glib. It's her preferred approach to abject terror, or anything else too upsetting. That list has grown quite long in the past couple of days.
Minerva is about explain that that was incredibly reckless - these children seem to survive almost entirely due to luck alone - and then detail how she should have handled the situation when an owl soars into the little room, its purpose abundantly clear once she spots the all too familiar red envelope in his clutches.
Hermione's calm is a fragile thing. She'd finally gotten some decent rest and she has a Calming Draught in her system. It helps. Mostly, though, it had helped convince her she was fine, which holds for about as long as it takes for her calm to be threatened even ever so slightly. That's amply proven when she flinches merely at the sight of the Howler. It's too much like fourth year and the wake of Skeeter's poison pen articles during the Tri-Wiz for comfort just now.
Minerva watches as contradictory impulses seem to overcome the young woman to shrink together in retreat and square her shoulders, firming her resolve, all at once. It's only the fleetest of moments, and then the little witch swiftly moves to place herself between Severus and the perceived threat, as though it could make a difference, but she's acting on impulse, just as she had done Sunday night when that threat had been Minerva herself. That fact makes Minerva more than a little rueful. But seeing the woman face her discomfort to try to protect Severus makes both her and the Disillusioned house elf still standing guard in the corner smile to themselves.
Thinking to spare the young woman some distress and feeling she owes it to her, Minerva reaches for the envelop only to have it suddenly burst open at her touch and begin screaming.
Quite unexpectedly, though, it's screaming at her.
A voice Minerva soon recognises as Mrs. Devi's unleashes a chorus of "How could you allow this to happen?" punctuated by the occasional "What were you thinking?"
Minerva finds herself without adequate answers for either, other than Albus had blindsided her, and frankly she'd asked him much the same Sunday evening. In fact, rather more often than Mrs. Devi does in her Howler. It's nothing she couldn't have predicted, should have expected actually, and it's soon run its course. Unpleasant, to be sure, but unfortunately all in a day's work as the Head of Gryffindor.
Madam Snape, struggling somewhat not to let her relief show too greatly, meanwhile busies herself in the room, politely pretending her Head of House isn't receiving quite the bollocking in her presence, and applying what appears to be a Diagnostic Charm to Severus. Minerva can't see any results, but she believes she's seen the wandstroke before, and Madam Snape's expression seems to reflect that she's received good news. Very good news.
It's soon followed by a Freshening Charms to Severus' bedclothes and apparently a Refreshing Charm to the man himself. The quiet confidence with which the witch applies the Charms, the lack of apprehension she has about applying them to him, has Minerva wondering how much practice she's had in the past few days. It all seems so... routine. Minerva certainly prefers focusing on that to the Howler.
When Mrs. Devi's rant has run out of steam and the Howler bursts into flames and turns to ash, Minerva breathes a sigh of relief, both that she wasn't in the Great Hall to receive it, that's never pleasant, and that she needn't worry about receiving one from Miss Kilkenny's... Madam Devi's parents. A definite advantage to the Muggle-born students if ever there were one. It crosses her mind briefly to wonder if she'll receive another when Mrs. Devi hears about Dhanesh's tail... How lovely. She can hardly wait.
Minerva turns to her pupil and apologises. "I'm sorry you had to hear that. I probably should have silenced it earlier, but I find it more constructive to be able to refer to the actual complaints made when corresponding with parents later."
Hermione gives her a wry grin from where she stands by Professor Snape's side, and in a bit of dark humour quips, "Well, on the bright side, at least you don't have to worry about getting one from my parents."
Minerva pales, a little abashed at that, she quite frankly hadn't thought of Madam Snape's parents at all at that moment. She thinks ruefully about what Severus had told her about them. They've really let this young woman down. Repeatedly.
Simultaneously, Hermione has a very strange turn as it dawns on her to wonder about the Professor's parents... Well, not his mum, obviously, but his... father... Not that he, as a Muggle, could have sent a Howler either apparently... She realises that she doesn't even know if the man, horrid though he may have been, but she doesn't know if he's still alive... She'd simply never enquired.
When the Professor had asked her if her parents should be present for their bonding, she hadn't given a single thought to his. In retrospect, it's just as well she hadn't asked about them, but still... Goodness, he could have as many siblings as a Weasley... Although that seems unlikely... Or aunts and uncles and cousins galore... She seems to sometimes forget, whatever else he is, he's a person like anyone else, which leaves her feeling somewhat guilty.
At the thought, she finds herself absently, gently brushing that stubborn strand of hair out of his face, as if in penance. To atone for her oversight...
Finally.
Sunny could cheer. He may have giggled. Fortunately the Silencing Charm around him ensures no one else will ever know.
And then Hermione has a brief moment of something very like vertigo, thankfully much dampened by the Calming Draught, when she worries, somewhat acutely considering the Draught, about having a person like the one Madam Pomfrey had described as a father-in-law. Merlin, what he'd done to Mrs. Snape... But it's really only the briefest of moments before she relaxes, trusting that the Professor would never expose her to someone like that, even if the man were still alive. She feels it, deep down in her bones, with a conviction she couldn't explain if she had to. She knows, absolutely, she's safe with her bondmate. In that regard, she trusts him completely. In most regards, actually, when she thinks about it...
And again she's stroking that strand of hair from his face.
It's odd. She's never noticed it hanging in his face in class before. Certainly never when he brews, he wouldn't stand for it... And yet as he lies there sleeping, largely immobile, it seems to have taken on a life of its own. She wonders if there's a draught by his bed... She extends a hand towards him to test for it.
As Minerva watches her charge fussing surprisingly tenderly over Severus, it occurs to her to wonder if in the aftermath of the man's apparently rather dramatic rescue the young woman isn't half smitten. And then she finds herself pondering if in the face of their bonding, that would be such a bad thing... Discounting Severus' misanthropic nature, of course. Always assuming one can...
Both women are yanked from their thoughts by the arrival of another owl. Hermione briefly considers if that's even remotely hygienic, owls flying to and fro in an Infirmary, but presumably there are Charms for that, too. Maybe she'll ask Madam Pomfrey about it later... And suddenly she recognises the owl.
It's Pigwidgeon.
There are a few seconds of denial when Hermione recalls Ron is in the main room - she'd only just dragged Professor McGonagall past him, now that she thinks about it - and surely Pig is here for him, when she spots the telltale red envelope in his talons. Her heart sinks as Professor McGonagall again reaches for a letter, "Please, allow me, Madam Snape..." And as she touches the flap, it bursts open and Molly Weasley's voice fills the little room.
A/N:
In the category too cute for my own good... 'Compo' is a traditional material used to make many of those fancy decorations you may associate with antique picture frames. It's made predominantly out of glue from boiled animal hides (yup. and: ick), chalk, rosin and linseed oil. (for example: www.nps.gov/tps/how-to-preserve/briefs/34-composition-ornament.htm) (A similar technique from the Italian Renaissance was called 'pastiglia', if you're more familiar with that.) Compo is put in moulds and that's how all those curlicues are made. It's far easier (and hence cheaper) than carving the same ornamentations out of wood would be. I mention this because my dictionary doesn't feel anyone needs to know this :-( (A pox on artificially restrictive dictionaries. A pox, I say!), and I figured some of you might not be better off than I am in that regard.
It's also the word for British military rations. Sort of like American K-rations or MRE's, if that helps.
While I wouldn't expect most of the characters to know the second definition, given the prevalence of portraits at Hogwarts, I assume there's a thriving frame making business in their society.