“beyond wandpoint” 007 by gingerbred

[beyondwandpoint]

“11 07e Friday - The Collapse”

Severus, Hermione, Poppy and Albus

---

Originally Published: 2017-11-10 on AO3
Chapter: 007

Pairing: Hermione Granger / Severus Snape
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con

---

---

They find themselves at the doors to the Infirmary. He kicks them open and begins screaming for "Poppy!" and soon Madam Pomfrey bustles on the scene.


"My goodness, this racket! Whatever is the matter?"

He carries his petite burden over to the second to last bed in the far corner of the otherwise empty room, small mercies, and gently lays her down. At the latest when Madam Pomfrey removes his cloak from around Miss Granger's shoulders and sees what is left of her blouse, the Mediwitch has a far too clear notion of what may have happened to her. "Severus?" Poppy's wand is drawn, and she's casting diagnostic spells as she looks over her shoulder at him.

"Poppy, please check that she hasn't been... interfered with. I'm reasonably certain I arrived on time, but... there's still a risk. I wasn't... I wasn't exactly up to snuff." He looks shaky. Exceedingly pale. After the obscuring darkness of the hallway, Hermione finds it all the more noticeable now.

Poppy turns back to him with a relieving, "She's untouched," and he feels the last scraps of fight go out of him. He didn't realise just how much he'd been hanging on to hear that bit of reassurance. The Legilimency was a good indication that he'd been on time, ordinarily it would have practically been proof, but in his current state, he just couldn't be certain he hadn't overlooked anything the boys may have desperately wished to hide. He couldn't afford to trust to it without external confirmation.

"Thank the gods. Please see to her. I'll call Albus." And with that he crosses to the fireplace, throws in a pinch of glittering powder from the pot on the mantle and calls for the Headmaster. "Albus! Albus! Are you there? Still awake?"

After a moment the response comes, "Severus, dear boy, what is it?"

"I'm in the Infirmary with Poppy and Miss Granger. There's been an... incident. It's under control for the moment, no one is seriously injured, but your attention will soon be required. Would you please come through at your earliest convenience?"

"Of course, of course. I'll be with you momentarily." And with that the Floo connection closes and Severus turns back to the room.

Poppy has had a chance to examine the student in the meantime. Her Finite Incantatem fails to give the young woman her speech back because she mistakes the Muffliato for a Silencio and so it misses its mark. Hermione would lift it herself, but still finds her occasional moans, although thankfully subsiding, rather embarrassing.

Madam Pomfrey sets about healing the abrasions on her wrists and ankles, with an intensely disapproving shake of her head. A whisper of a spell ghosts across Hermione's lip, and she feels her skin knit back together. The Matron's gentle smile as she performs this feat leads Hermione to think the results were more than satisfactory. It's followed by potions and the application of a balm that sends warmth coursing through her body, and soon she's feeling much better.

But then they make a discovery Hermione finds rather puzzling. There's blood on her side, on her ribs and waist, and a fair bit of it at that. She knows Professor Snape had cleaned her up and none of the pig's blood remained, and yet here she lies, bloodied again. Madam Pomfrey examines her more closely, but doesn't see any wounds. Echoing Professor Snape's earlier question, she asks the young woman, "Is this blood yours, Miss Granger?"

She just shakes her head 'No.'

"Were you injured?"

This time the witch hesitates before shaking her head again. When she's able to speak, Madam Pomfrey makes note to return to that question.

And then a bunch of things happen more or less at once. Professor Snape returns to their side of the room from the fireplace with an "Albus will be here shortly."

Madam Pomfrey merely nods as she continues her search for the source of the blood on Hermione's torso. Professor Snape, however, starts wavering back and forth, and Hermione tugs ferociously on Madam Pomfrey's apron, pointing wildly over the Matron's shoulder to her Potions Professor. Madam Pomfrey turns just in time to see the Professor begin to collapse, and with a shouted "Severus!" she runs over to him, again casting a slew of diagnostic spells. When she reaches him and grabs at his robes in an only moderately successful attempt to break his fall, her hand comes away crimson as he crumbles to the floor and the mystery of the source of the blood on Hermione is solved.

It was his. All his.

"Great Merlin!" the Matron exclaims, not liking the results of her tests at all, "What have you two been up to?"

Hermione shrugs, still unable to answer, and largely incapable of explaining her Professor's state even if she could.

"He's clearly suffering from the after effects of the Cruciatus, from the look of him I shouldn't like to know how many rounds. He's obviously been tortured, and his magic is almost completely depleted. What on earth was he doing?" and with that the Matron casts a spell that removes his robes, frock coat and blood-soaked, previously white dress shirt, revealing a mess of slashes across the man's pale chest and begins to work furiously to close them. It seems completely incongruous to see his soiled clothes fold together neatly and float down slowly to the chair nearest the half-dead man sprawled out on the floor and the frenzied healer.

"Accio Blood Replenishing Potion, Dittany!" She's got a Healing Charm or ten to add to the mix, and transforms into a flurry of activity.

Hermione sinks back onto the bed, absolutely appalled that this man, in his shape, had come to her rescue. Had run off her tormentors and patiently knelt, sawing through the ropes that held her while he, what, slowly bled to death from the look of it? He's mad! Insane! It made no sense at all. And still he had taken care of her, carried her all the way up here when she couldn't walk, all without a thought for himself. After he'd been tortured. And she'd been feeling rather sorry for herself, poorly done by and her treatment couldn't hold a candle to his. Good gods! She has no words for this, even if she could speak...

Professor Dumbledore has arrived by now, quickly takes in the scene, not missing Hermione's shredded, blood-streaked top and teary eyes. "Miss Granger, you are unharmed?" She nods in response, and he turns his attention to the more critical matter of his Potions Master splayed on the floor before him. "I thought no one was seriously injured?" He applies a Mobilicorpus to lift the man slowly onto the empty bed beside Hermione's as the Matron works on him feverishly.

"Severus may have understated his own condition. Again. He's been through the wringer. I've never seen it this bad. The wounds have been far worse, beyond question, but his magic... his magic is almost completely depleted, and I haven't a clue why. That just doesn't typically happen. And the girl is mute, and I've no idea what they've been through at all."

The Headmaster turns to Hermione and asks, "Miss Granger, in light of the seriousness of the situation, would you be willing to let me use Legilimency on you? I assume you know what that is."

She nods immediately, emphatically, eager to help. He comes over to her, makes eye contact, and she can almost instantly feel the brush of something foreign among her thoughts. And just as quickly, he's gone, little information required to help Madam Pomfrey understand what's going on. He's slightly pinked, and she assumes the potion is still colouring her thoughts. Fortunately, the adrenaline rush caused by the scene before her seems to be helping to get that under control. It was far worse before.

"Oh. Oh, dear. Well yes, that explains it. We'll speak in short order, my dear. I'm afraid Professor Snape was right, I'd like to talk to you about that, and I'm sorry you went through it."

And then he turns to the Matron and starts explaining, "He returned to the castle somewhat over an hour ago now, I felt the wards. The Cruciatus tremors were apparently evident and considerable even then," Hermione can't believe he could pick that detail out of her memory, and yet she hadn't even noticed it. But it's no doubt easier in hindsight, and she was fairly distracted, to be sure. "He then became involved in an... altercation where he extracted this young lady from a particularly prickly affair. It required rather a lot of magic to do so. And I believe that's where we find ourselves now. Can I be of any assistance?"

The Matron simply shakes her head and gets back to work, an idea of how better to proceed knowing the magical depletion is largely unrelated to the Cruciatus or any other treatment from the Death Eaters. Potions keep flying into her outstretched hands, phials emptying as she pours them down his throat. Spells keep getting cast, one after another. She's truly impressive in her element.

The Potions Professor, now stretched out on the bed, stirs, his expression unguarded, clearly in agony, and briefly opens his eyes, a critical message to relate. Reaching for the Matron's apron, he clutches it tightly and grits out, "No Potions for the Slytherin students tomorrow. Not a one." And then he's out like an extinguished sconce, Noxed and done, unable to be roused once more.

Madam Pomfrey just turns after that strange proclamation to look at the other two present in the room as if either of them might understand that bit of delirium, but is quite evidently even more perplexed when she can tell by their expressions that both of them do.

Professor Dumbledore takes the lead, "Poppy, that sounds like a fine recommendation. I think we should see to it that we do just that. No Pain Relief and no Headache Potions, tomorrow or the day after to be safe, right, my dear?" he asks turning to Hermione, and she finds her features setting into a grim line and herself resolutely nodding in agreement.

Let the snakes rot.

Present company excepted, she realises with a start, feeling blazingly guilty for a moment there. Merlin, how quickly she forgets. She owes him everything.

"Miss Granger, would you come with me please? I think we have much to talk about." With that the Headmaster leads her into the adjacent private room at the Infirmary's rear, and his Finite Incantatem does just the trick, having seen that the spell was a Muffliato in her memories. Hermione finds herself biting her lip, hard, to squelch the last of the potion induced sound effects.

And Madam Pomfrey is left alone labouring over the recumbent Professor Snape, doing everything she can and then some to help the poor man recover.