Chapter Seventy-One: Descent into Hades

Author's Note: Rated for vulgar profanities at one point toward the end of the chapter.

Chapter Seventy-One: Descent into Hades

Monday 22 March 1999

There was a slump to Draco's shoulders as the heavy gates clanged shut behind them. "I hate seeing Mother in there," he said softly. "I should be out here, taking care of her, not at Hogwarts."

"She is not a prisoner," Severus replied, looking back at the converted Muggle manor house behind them. "However, I do appreciate your feelings on the matter. You must remember that she is there for her safety. And she does not seem . . . uncomfortable."

Narcissa had been given a small suite of sorts, and they had met with her in her sitting room. It was impersonally decorated, but it was pleasant enough, rather like a modest hotel room.

Draco gave a crooked grin. "She was happy to have her own bathroom. When I visited her over the weekend, they let me stay with her, and I slept in the sitting room. I think she was glad to have her bathroom to herself again when I left."

"I can imagine," Severus replied. "Now to St. Mungo's, if they will let us in to see your father."

"They will. He's in that new secure ward there . . . with, um, Aunt Bella. Not with her, of course, but in the same unit. But Mother spoke with them there at Mungo's, and the Ministry gave its approval, so you're expected." Draco caught his Head of House's expression. "That is, you are on a list of visitors who can be allowed in. Mother and I, well, Mother, really, we hoped you would agree."

"The last time that I agreed to a request of your mother's," Severus said drily, "I almost didn't live to regret it."

"I didn't know, I..."

"We should Apparate together so that we are not separated," Severus interrupted. "I shall bring you this time."

"Do you mind if we stop in Diagon Alley first?" Draco asked.

"You need to fetch something for your father?"

Draco shook his head. "No, for myself. We could just pick up something in Mungo's gift shop for him, if he needs anything."

"Afterwards, then, if we have the time. I want to get this visit over with."

Upon arriving at St. Mungo's and stepping through the window, Severus swept across the reception area without a glance at the welcome wizard. As he headed towards the stairs, however, he stopped when Draco touched his elbow lightly.

"He's not up . . ." Draco darted a glance to either side, then whispered, "He's down."

Severus raised an eyebrow. "The shop is on the fifth floor. Unless they have moved that."

"Oh. Yes, all right."

"You overwhelm me with your enthusiasm," Severus said, starting up the stairs.

"You want to bring him something, then?" Draco asked.

"Oh, yes, I thought a pretty little bunch of posies might brighten his room," Severus replied with a slight roll of his eyes. "No, you are going to get him something. You may be at odds with him still, but he is your father. If something were to happen to him, you do not want to regret small things that are easily done."

"Just big ones?" Draco asked with a smirk.

"Do not be impertinent. And do not give your mother any more cause for grief than she already has."

"Sorry. Yes, I shall say that it's from Mother."

"As you wish."

In the shop, Draco immediately went to the magazines and newspapers and picked up a copy of Wizarding World Weekly, which featured a story about the changes in British wizarding import restrictions. On the cover was a photograph of an imposing Minister Shacklebolt standing with a rather dour-looking visiting Balkan business witch, who was holding what one presumed was a basket of currently restricted Balkan wares.

"That's what you're getting him?" Severus asked.

Draco plucked an Evening Prophet from the rack and looked over at Severus.

Severus shook his head, glanced over the various publications, and rapidly selected a half dozen. He shoved them at Draco.

"All of them?" Draco asked.

Severus took one of the magazines away. "You are right. It is better that I give him this one." He looked down at the provocatively posed witch on the cover of Quidditch Illustrated. The model was holding a broomstick and dressed in a Holyhead Harpies uniform, but Severus did not think that any genuine Holyhead Harpy would ever wear her uniform in quite that way. He supposed it was good for their ticket sales, though. "I doubt that Lucius would believe this was a gift from your mother."

Draco laughed. "I should get him something else, I suppose. But there are restrictions on the sorts of things that can be brought in."

"Are sweets acceptable?" Severus asked, nodding toward the display of chocolates and various boxed confections.

"I think so. Mother and I brought him a meal yesterday." Draco grinned. "He's developed a taste for Muggle take-away curry."

Severus did laugh at that. He doubted that Lucius Malfoy would have ever admitted to even trying such a thing in the past, let alone have admitted enjoying it.

Draco picked up a box of Ice Mice and another of Peppermint Imps, then he scrutinised the other offerings carefully.

"I did not realise you were such a connoisseur, Newman," Severus said impatiently.

"No buzzing humbugs," Draco said, "and their selection of chocolates is limited."

"Hmph. Tempus fugit. Let's get these things paid for."

Once back down on the ground floor, Draco led Severus to the back of the reception area, around behind the main stairs, through a bright lime green door, down a wide corridor lined with offices, most of their daily occupants now gone, and then to a more narrow hallway that led to a shiny black metal door. A bored-looking grey-haired watch wizard dressed in plum-coloured uniform robes sat at a small desk, fiddling with a wizarding wireless set. At the approach of the other two, the skinny wizard flicked his wand and turned off the wireless.

"May I help you?" He looked hopeful. "Or are you lost?"

"We're here to see Lucius Malfoy," Draco said.

"Most people are lost." The older wizard picked up a parchment and scanned it with a squint, stroking his heavy grey mustache with one finger. "Wouldn't know his number, by any chance, would you?"

"DBW sixty-one," Draco replied softly.

"DBW . . . DBW. Can't be many of them down there. Ah, yes, here he is. Sixty-one in room eighteen. Let's just see . . ." The wizard pulled another parchment from the desk drawer. "Restricted visiting, says here. Family, Aurors, and Ministry officials with permits, only."

"I'm family," Draco said. "And Professor Snape has special permission."

"Mm . . . all right. They don't tell me anything about that. But just warning you that they'll stop you down below if everything's not in order. In the meanwhile, I still need your wands. Can't go no further than this with your wands."

Severus furrowed his brow.

"Don't worry, Professor," the wizard said. "I take that part of my job very seriously. Nobody touches the wands." He swivelled in his chair and pointed to a bank of cubbyholes behind him. "You pick one, then I lock it for you and give you the key, see. Needs a combination of the charm and the key to unlock."

Draco already had his wand out, ready to deposit it. "The Auror who came with Mother and me had to deposit her wand, too, Professor."

Severus simply slid his wand from his sleeve and inserted it into one of the cubbyholes. The watch wizard closed it with a small plug, waved his wand, then pulled a tiny key from the plug.

"Don't lose the key. Had a wizard do that one time, and it took us three days to find someone who could break it open and get his wand out. Tricky job to do without destroying all the charms, I'll tell you."

Severus could sense that the watch wizard would launch into a story...or perhaps multiple stories...if given a chance, so he said, "I appreciate that some people would likely lose their heads if they weren't attached. I doubt I will have such trouble, thank you."

The watch wizard chuckled. "Would lose their heads . . . that's a good one, Professor. I'll remember that. Have to tell Marina that one when I get home tonight." He was still chuckling as he opened the door for them. "Professor Snape said . . . lose their heads if they weren't attached . . . must tell the wife . . ."

A narrow, curving, well-lit stairway led down. Severus couldn't see where it ended, and he thought that Minerva would hate having to take those stairs. He had taught with her for more than a decade before he realised that she was claustrophobic, and that long, narrow, enclosed stairways bothered her particularly. She never let that stop her, but given a choice, she told him she'd rather face an angry hippogriff than some of the most narrow stairways at Hogwarts.

Draco allowed Severus to go first, and about a hundred fifty steps down, the end still not in sight, Draco said, "We're almost halfway to the first landing, I think. They have a couple guards there, but they don't do anything."

"First landing?"

"Yes. There are four landings, with two guards at each. I think about twelve hundred steps, but I didn't count. Coming back up would be tough on someone not used to it."

"They don't need to have lists of approved visitors," Severus grumbled. "Just tell them they're about to descend into the depths of Hades, after which they have to climb back out. Or die trying."

"When Mother and I were here the first time, there was a really old witch visiting someone, and one of the watch wizards was bringing her down in some kind of automagical Charmed chair."

"They should just put in a lift," Severus said. Though he doubted that it would be any better for Minerva's claustrophobia, he would appreciate it.

"I think they have something like that for the St. Mungo's staff, but it's not open to the public."

"Of course not, can't have the hoi polloi pampered with something as exotic as a lift," Severus replied. Fortunately, living in the dungeons and climbing many stairs at Hogwarts every day, he was fit enough. He still didn't look forward to the tedious walk back up the stairs. "How did your mother fare?"

"We stopped on each landing on the way back up. But she didn't complain at all." Severus heard the young man's voice crack.

"She is admirable," Severus said.

"He doesn't deserve her," Draco said. "He has no idea . . ."

"I am sure he has some notion," Severus replied gently. "And he suffered, remember, after the Dar–, after Riddle captured him in the raid on Azkaban."

"I know. But he brought it on himself."

"Perhaps, but much of his suffering was caused by the thought of what the Dark Lord had done to you and your mother. You know that he told your father that the two of you had been slowly tortured to death. He had no idea that you were safe and well."

"Yes, he said something about that when we first saw him after we returned from Sweden. Potter finally told him we were." Draco was silent for a few moments, then he whispered, "He cried when he saw us. But I was still angry with him."

"And now?"

"I'm still angry. I'm ashamed sometimes. And I feel . . . there are times when I don't even know what I feel. But you were right, what you said before. He is my father. And as stupid and awful and ugly as everything was, he didn't mean for anything to happen to Mother or me."

"I am sure that knowing that his actions have caused you and Narcissa such pain is a daily torment for him." Severus listened to Draco's footsteps behind his, echoing in the stairwell. "Perhaps you might consider . . . forgiving him. Not forgetting it, but forgiving him."

"Forgive him?" Draco asked incredulously. "And how does forgiveness fix anything?"

"It might help you both. I'm no expert in the practice of forgiveness, but I have experienced receiving it. I am probably not the best person to be talking about it, let alone recommending someone else do it. I think it's a hard thing to learn. But you're young, Draco. Don't hold on to things that make you miserable for so long that they become a kind of . . . comfort to you."

Draco snorted. "Don't worry. No chance of that. I want to put it behind me." He paused, and his steps faltered for a moment. "Of course, I know that it won't be easy. Even as Newman."

The two subsided into silence as the landing and the guards came into sight. Severus thought that they probably should not have been speaking as freely as they had done, though they had said nothing that could be specifically used against them. As if Draco had the same thought, the two became quiet, nodding at the plum-clad guards as they reached and then passed them.

The pair of guards on that first landing were playing a dice game. From the long parchment on which they were keeping score, Severus guessed that it was something they had been doing for many nights. It really did feel like he was descending into the circles of hell, he thought, a bright, antiseptic hell, but a hell, nonetheless. He noticed that the guards' voices were somehow deadened, so that until they were practically on top of them, they could only hear a vague murmur from them, and he assumed that it was some charm placed upon the landings, since their footsteps were likewise muffled.

A dozen steps beyond the first landing, Severus felt a sudden sense of vertigo. He paused, reaching out and taking hold of the hand-railing. He could feel himself sway slightly, and it seemed that there was pressure on his magic.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. Just . . . slight discomfort," Severus replied.

"Mother became quite dizzy right around here, and it was worse on the way back up. I didn't notice much, except I thought the magic seemed stronger here or something."

Severus nodded and began the descent again. "It is probably a particularly strong ward. Not as skilfully applied as one might expect on a project such as this. When did they construct this, do you know?" Severus asked Draco softly.

"They began it immediately after the war. As in, even before Shacklebolt became Minister. Tiberius Ogden commissioned the plans and gave the initial requirements for it. I don't know when they started the actual construction of it, but it was sufficiently completed at the end of August that they could move the first few patients in then. Bella was one of them."

"Did your mother visit her here, then?"

"No. She saw her earlier, not long after we returned. But she hasn't seen her since. It upset her. Mother said that her sister had completely lost touch with reality. I think she also said some rather hateful things to Mother."

"She was never particularly sane. I am sure that her master's death was the final straw," Severus whispered.

"Apparently, she believes that the D–, Riddle will be reborn in someone else. That he has been already and he's just biding his time, waiting to come for her," Draco whispered back.

Severus felt a chill go up his spine. "Not possible. He is really dead this time. Completely."

"I'm sure of that, but she thinks he somehow transferred himself to someone else. She told Mother that when he returned, we would all pay for our treachery and incompetence."

Severus shook his head. "As I say, she was never really normal. I am sorry, however, that it caused your mother pain."

The two continued on in silence, passing the wizards on the second landing, who were playing a game of chess with Muggle chessmen, then on down to pass a witch and wizard on the third landing. The witch was sketching and the wizard was reading. Severus really wasn't entirely sure what their jobs were, unless they were being punished themselves for some kind of incompetence. When they reached the two witches on the fourth landing, though, they were stopped.

"Names?" asked the tall blonde witch, whom Severus had taught several years before. Ingrid Fitzgerald.

Severus bit back a sarcastic response, though he longed to introduce himself as the Lone Ranger and Draco as his companion, Tonto. But he didn't. "Severus Snape, Ms Fitzgerald," he replied, pointing out that he clearly knew who she was.

The witch gave a quick smile. "We're required to ask. Me own mum could come down here, and I'd have to ask her her name."

"Hmph."

"Draco Newman."

The witch's eyebrows rose. "Newman, is it?"

"Indeed," Severus said smoothly. "Mr Newman is one of my students, and a seventh-year prefect at Hogwarts."

"Who will you be visiting, then?" Ingrid asked.

"My father, Lucius Malfoy," Draco replied.

The older witch of the two picked up a parchment. "He'd be sixty-two?"

"Sixty-one. DBW sixty-one," Draco corrected.

"Yes. Room eighteen," the witch said, finding his name. "Be prepared to have any gifts inspected and to empty your pockets. No body search for this one, though."

Severus raised an eyebrow.

"For the more . . . vulnerable or . . . mentally fragile patients. The V, L, and U classes, mostly. For their protection and yours, there is someone on duty who does a body search. But sixty-one is only on the restricted visitors list, not on the body search list. You do have permission, Professor?" Ingrid asked. "If not..."

"I am told that I do. If I do not, I will not be a happy man," Severus replied, shooting Draco a glance. "And the wizard at the top of the stairs forewarned us."

"That'd be Kurt tonight," the older witch chimed in. "He's good about telling folks. We don't like having to send people straight back up the stairs, you know. But it's our job."

"Of course," Draco said, smiling charmingly. "We appreciate the care you are taking. Thank you."

Ingrid smiled back. "At the bottom of the stairs, there's a door. You need to ring the bell, and someone will come and open it to you!"

"You haven't much further to go," the older witch said helpfully. "It's only another twenty-four steps to the bottom, then a short corridor."

Draco thanked her, smiling again, and the two continued down the stairs.

When they reached the bottom, Severus nearly sighed with relief to see the door at the end of the corridor. His knees, which had been damaged by many months of repeated Cruciatus, were complaining loudly after the long descent. He did not look forward to the climb up, but he was glad he would be able to leave and return to Hogwarts. If things had gone differently, he might have been one of the permanent patients there, or locked in some prison, and likely not a congenial "minimum security" facility, either. But he would be returning that evening to Hogwarts and to Poppy. He hoped that she was looking forward to seeing him. He had hated to postpone their meeting and possibly lose an opportunity to press his cause with her once more.

Severus pulled the bell rope. They heard nothing, but a moment later, the door swung open to them.

For some unaccountable reason, Severus felt a sudden sense of unease. The irrational thought crossed his mind that they might decide to keep him there, buried deep in the earth, far from civilized humanity, and he would be lost forever, never to see a friendly face again or feel a warm, caring touch. He swallowed and stepped through the door into a small foyer.

"Good evening, sir. You are visiting a patient?" The guard cast a glance at Draco, who was still slightly behind Severus.

"Lucius Malfoy," Severus replied to the guard, this one also in plum robes, but with deeper purple and gold trim. "Number sixty-one."

"The DBW. Yes. Restricted visiting," the wizard said, not needing to consult his parchment, though he picked it up. "Family, Aurors, and Ministry officials with permits, only."

"I'm his son," Draco said, stepping forward. "Draco Newman." He pulled a small folded document from his pocket and handed it to the guard.

The guard nodded as he unfolded the document and saw Draco's picture, his full name, date of birth, and a Ministry seal. He opened a drawer in the cabinet beside him and extracted a slim folder, then he compared Draco's document to a list in the file and handed the identification back when he was finished.

"You may keep this with you. And you, sir?" the guard asked, turning to Severus.

"I have permission to see him. His wife requested that I visit. Severus Snape."

"Yes, I see that, sir." He glanced at a paper in the file. "And there is something in here for Severus Snape. But have you an identity document or a pass from the Ministry?"

"I . . . no. I do not carry an 'identity document,'" Severus replied, suppressing his annoyance. He had a Muggle passport somewhere, but he had only used it once. He wasn't even sure whether it was still valid. And he doubted it would fulfil the guard's expectations for an identity document.

"We were told the pass would be here waiting for him. You can see who he is," Draco said. "He's my Head of House. I've known him my entire life."

"Yes, I do recognise him, but I don't know him personally." The guard hesitated. "Just a moment." He stood and knocked on the wooden door behind him, then had a low conversation with the person behind it. An older witch came out.

"Professor Snape. If you would wait just a moment, please, Butterworth is going to fetch someone on staff who knows you personally. Then we can proceed. I apologise for the delay. Butterworth, be quick about it. These two gentlemen have had a long trek down."

"Yes, ma'am." The guard nodded and hurried around the corner into the ward.

"I am sure you understand our precautions, Professor," the stout witch said, taking the seat that Butterworth had vacated. "Particularly given the reason for Mr Malfoy's presence here."

"Hm. I do." It didn't decrease his annoyance, but he did understand it.

"Whilst we are waiting, we can get a few of the other formalities out of the way..." The witch stopped and looked over at a mediwitch who had just come around the corner. "Yes? What is it, Madam Macmillan?"

"I saw Henry rushing down the hall," the witch said, darting a glance at the two wizards, then averting her gaze again quickly. "I just wondered if everything was all right. Wanted to make sure that he hadn't left his post . . ."

"Can you imagine that Butterworth would ever leave his post unattended?" the older witch asked, clearly annoyed at being interrupted.

"No, Madam Framingham," the witch replied, subdued, but again glancing at the visitors.

"You were not sent down here to deal with security issues. I believe that your time would be best spent checking on DHU eleven's condition and keeping DXV twelve from screaming profanities at the top of her lungs. It is distressing to everyone. Make sure she sleeps through the night tonight, will you?"

"Yes, ma'am. I consulted with Healer Baton, and he's prescribed a potion that should reduce her agitation and help her sleep. I can't give it to her until just before shift-change, though."

"Well, go look in on silver boy, then, eh?" Madam Framingham shook her head in disgust, though the witch continued to hover just by the corridor entrance.

"'Silver boy'?" Severus asked. "Would that be..."

"Pettigrew. No worse. No better." She shrugged. "I think they only keep him down here to free up a bed upstairs, since he's certainly no trouble. Though I suppose someone could decide to make him even less trouble and extinguish his life completely. But on with what we were doing. If you would empty your pockets...you first, Professor. I simply need to inspect the contents and be sure there is nothing that is forbidden."

Severus carried little in his pockets, so it was quick work to pull out the stub of a pencil, which he found handy to carry, a clean, pressed white handkerchief, and his small leather purse containing a few Galleons and his lucky golden acorn, which his father had given him when he was five. He didn't remember why he'd decided it was lucky, and most of the "gold" had rubbed off of it years before...and certainly all of the luck...but he still carried it in the little leather pouch with his wizarding money, not even thinking about it. He felt through his other pockets, but found only a note that the Headmistress had written him reminding him that she needed the finalised expense reports before the Easter holiday, and a small piece of dried Screechsnap bark that he'd picked up from the floor before leaving his classroom that afternoon.

"What's that?" Madam Framingham asked, pointing at the piece of purple and red bark.

"Screechsnap bark. Harmless."

"I am sure you know better than I about that," the witch replied, "but since I don't know about that, it will have to stay up here during your visit. Could you please empty your purse into the basket?"

Severus complied, and the witch counted it out. "Three Galleon pieces, eighteen Sickles, and twenty-seven Knuts," she said, before making a note of it in a book. "You may return that to the purse. And what is that other thing?"

"It's a . . . an acorn. Just a little Muggle trinket," Severus said, controlling his embarrassment.

"Mm. I will need to test it and make sure it hasn't been charmed in someway. Can't have you try to Portkey out of here. Most messy consequences!"

"Why don't you test the money, too?" Draco asked curiously. "And his purse? Or his clothing and handkerchief?"

"I will test the handkerchief, young man," the witch replied. "As for the other things, it depends on the level of security. For those with the greatest security needs or the most delicate health conditions, everything would be left here...including your clothing...and you would be issued a robe and slippers." She raised an eyebrow. "Does that satisfy the budding young Auror in you?"

Draco blushed and laughed slightly. "I was just curious."

"It is good to be curious," Madam Framingham acknowledged. She turned back to Severus. "And your pocket watch, Professor."

"My watch?" Severus put his hand over the watch in his waistcoat pocket.

"Yes. And I will need to either test it for charms or you will have to leave it here during your visit."

Severus opened his mouth then closed it.

"Or you can turn around and head back up those stairs," Madam Framingham said patiently.

Severus took out his pocket watch, then he carefully drew out the chain and its fob. He brought it to the basket, but seemed reluctant to let it go.

"It's required. You can imagine why it needs to be examined."

"It is a Charmed alchemist's watch and was a gift from Headmaster Dumbledore. Given me shortly before Professor McGonagall became Headmistress," Severus said stiffly. "I believe it is quite valuable. I'd prefer not to have any charms cast on it."

"I am certain that its value as a gift outweighs its monetary value," the witch said with an understanding nod. "If you wish to leave it, I will keep it in my office for you. Don't worry about it. It will be safe."

Severus nodded. Just then, Butterworth came puffing around the corner, another mediwitch behind him.

"Found one!" he said. "They're all older on this shift, it seems!"

"Hi, Professor Snape," the witch said with a smile.

"Miss Clark," Severus acknowledged his former student.

"Rourke, now, Professor. Got married this summer to Gerald," she said, still smiling.

"Felicitations," Severus said with a curt nod.

"Yes, that's Professor Snape," she said to Madam Framingham. "I really need to get back to Hyatt Crabbe now, if I may."

"Back for his nuts again, is he?"

"Yes, they disappeared again yesterday and have started to grow back. It's most painful, I understand." Despite her words, Rourke couldn't quite conceal her amusement. "Right now, they're just itty-bitty things. You'd hardly think he could feel anything at all. But I need to go give him his potion."

"You go do that, thank you, dear," Madam Framingham said. "And bring that one with you." She indicated the other mediwitch standing in the corner.

"Yes, ma'am. Good to see you again, Professor!"

"Ms Rourke." Severus nodded.

"Now for your pockets, young man! And then we'll inspect the gifts, and you can go see your father." Madam Framingham turned to Butterworth. "Henry, why don't you grab yourself a quick cuppa in the break room. I'll take care of them for you. Good to be out of my office for a bit."

"Thank you, ma'am." Butterworth scurried away.

Draco's pockets disgorged a half-finished acid pop, carefully rewrapped, several Knuts and Sickles in loose change, a money bag with two Galleon pieces and five Sickles, a crumpled, but clean, handkerchief with his new monogram on it, a bright green Gobstone, a small address book, his identity card, two Chocolate Frog cards, one of the Headmistress and one of Molly Weasley, and a grey runestone displaying iar, the Futhorc symbol for "serpent," in bright red.

"Just keep it all up here," Draco said.

"I will give you a receipt."

As the witch was writing out the receipt, Severus asked, "Framingham, are you related to the Mrs Framingham who taught housewitchery?"

"She was my husband's great-grandmother," the witch replied, handing the receipt to Draco. "I'm surprised you have heard of her, even as Deputy Headmaster."

"Her portrait hangs in Hogwarts," Severus replied, thinking of Poppy in her suite at Hogwarts and wishing he were with her instead of there in that strange place.

"All right, then. We're set. As soon as Butterworth returns, I will check your gifts. In the meantime, you can each take one of these, and we'll be almost done." She reached into a drawer and pulled out a clear vial containing several large golden capsules. "He has a bottle of water and some cups here somewhere . . ." She opened a door in the cupboard.

"Take something? What is that?" Severus did not bother to hide his dismay.

"Polyjuice Potion antidote. Bloody well time one was developed, I'd say," the witch replied as she took a bottle of water and two paper cups from the cupboard. "We get it directly from the apothecary who invented it, so you should have no worries about its quality."

"I dislike taking unknown potions from unlabeled vials for dubious reasons."

"Well, I suppose you could wait here for Mr Newman whilst he visits his father, then."

Draco had already swallowed down his capsule, and, as expected, absolutely nothing happened.

"What if I were allergic to it?" Severus demanded.

"You're in St. Mungo's. I'm sure the staff on call could handle it if you broke out in hives or something. Are you allergic to it?"

"I don't know. I've never taken it. I do not make a practice of taking Polyjuice, either," Severus grumbled, but at that point, he simply wanted to get the visit over with. He no longer cared why Lucius wanted to see him, but he clearly wouldn't be allowed back into the ward without taking the antidote. He really had gone to Hades, he thought as he reluctantly put the large capsule into his mouth and swallowed it down with a gulp of warm water.

"Very good," Madam Framingham said. "Butterworth will be back shortly. What have you got for your father?"

Draco handed her the gift shop bag, and the witch looked through the magazines and newspapers, smirking when she saw the Quidditch Illustrated, then put the boxes of Ice Mice and Peppermint Imps on top of them.

"If it will make things go faster, keep the acorn and handkerchief with my pocket watch," Severus said. "And you can simply discard the Screechsnap bark. Don't know why I picked it up."

"Habit, I suppose. We all do that," the witch said. "Here's Butterworth now. I'll give you your chair back," she said, standing for the guard. She picked up the magazines and the baskets with the wizards' possessions and disappeared back into her office.

"Why doesn't she test them out here?" Draco asked.

"She has to use her wand," Butterworth replied, setting his mug of tea down on his desk. "She keeps that in her office, not out here. We just use a variety of Charmed objects whenever we can. Pretty much only the Healers and the boss even carry wands at all down here. The mediwitches all use Charmed devices to do their work, and the rest they do manually. Even changing the sheets on the beds. Some of 'em don't like it and don't last long, despite the pay, but some of 'em seem to enjoy it enough. Macmillan does. Seems to, anyway. Works overtime a lot. Really good with some of the more difficult inmates, er, patients, too."

Framingham reemerged from her office with the magazines, newspaper, and sweets. She grinned. "I was tempted to try the Ice Mice, just to be sure they were really all right...they used to be a real weakness of mine." She patted her middle. "Trying to get rid of some of this, though, and gave them up."

"You can go on down now," Henry said, handing them each a purple card with 'DBW 61' written on it. "No need for an escort, but don't stop to speak with any of the other patients. There's security on duty, and you'll have gone through all this for nothing, 'cause they'll kick you out fast if you do. Room eighteen is on the right, way down at the end. The quiet end. He's low security, so his door's not locked. Just knock if it's not open."

Most of the doors along the brightly lit, antiseptic-smelling corridor were closed, but each door had a window in it, through which a patient could be observed. Severus and Draco did not pause, however, and Severus only noticed that a few of the rooms seemed to be unoccupied. As they approached the end of the corridor, one of the doors opened as they passed it. Severus turned his head, and just beyond Macmillan, who had opened the door, he could see Peter Pettigrew reclining in a bed whose head had been raised. The wizard was motionless, however, his eyes closed. The right side of his face and neck reflected the light, glittering silver. Severus shuddered and turned his head away.

The door to room eighteen was ajar, and Draco knocked softly, then pushed it open. Lucius was sitting up, dressed in a simple long grey robe with another open robe of pale lavender draped around his shoulders. His face lit up at the sight of his son, and when he saw Severus behind him, he set his book and reading glasses aside on the table and pushed up on the armrests to stand.

"Good evening, Father," Draco said.

"Draco, it is good to see you again so soon," Lucius replied warmly. "And Severus. Thank you for coming."

Severus nodded. "You look well." And Lucius did look better than Severus had expected, though his eyes were bloodshot and he was still very thin. But he was not gaunt, as he had been in August, and although his hair was still trimmed short, much of it had grown back. He also seemed generally stronger.

"I'm not bad. I would probably be able to go home soon, in a day or two, if we had any idea where 'home' might be," Lucius replied, wheezing slightly.

"You're breathing better than you were yesterday," Draco observed.

Lucius nodded. "They gave me another treatment today, something different. They brought in a different witch to do this one. She seemed quite competent and experienced. Doesn't hurt as much when I breathe in now, and I can see to read longer before my eyes begin to burn."

"I'm glad to hear that," Draco said.

"Please, sit down." Lucius looked around. There were only two chairs, so he eased himself onto the bed, propping himself up with the pillows behind him.

"We brought you something," Draco said, handing him the magazines and sweets. "From Mother. The sweets are from me."

"And I picked up this for you," Severus said, handing him the Quidditch Illustrated before sinking gratefully into the chair Lucius had just vacated. He avoided thinking about the long trek back up to the ground floor.

Lucius smiled. "Thank you. And Peppermint Imps...very good, thank you, son. I'll enjoy these. They're better than the Radish or Pepper Imps, I think."

"I know you had wanted to speak with Professor Snape, so I'll wait outside for a few minutes," Draco said awkwardly. He gestured toward the empty chair. "You could sit there, if you wanted."

"No, thank you. You will come back in? You came all this way, after all..."

Draco nodded. "I just thought you'd like to speak with him alone for a few minutes first."

When Draco had stepped outside, saying something in greeting to the guard standing nearby, Lucius turned his attention to Severus.

"It is good to see you. I understand that it is a labourious trip to reach this ward."

"It must be over a thousand steps. I don't see quite the point," Severus replied.

"Security. In both directions. I feel well-guarded here," Lucius said, "though I nonetheless do wish that I could leave and be with Cissy. I have told her that she should do as the Ministry says and stay where they have her now, but she would like to go back to the house."

"She wants to go back there?" Severus asked incredulously.

"When it is cleaned and repaired," Lucius said. "She misses her work, too. Twilfitt and Tatting's may not hold her position for her if she does not return. She was able to send word of what happened, but she hasn't spoken to anyone there. It seems that our life together and her work there are more agreeable to her than I had believed they could be."

Severus nodded. "But going back to the house seems ill-advised."

"I don't know. Perhaps if she had some kind of security . . . I don't think we could afford it, but perhaps the Ministry might be able to arrange something. It might be less expensive for them than keeping her wherever they have her now."

"But should you go back? And even with security, it seems that Narcissa might be vulnerable whether you are there or not."

Lucius shook his head. "I probably should not. And I don't know whether the Ministry would allow it. I am still . . . their ward. I live where they tell me I may live. But if Narcissa wishes to live there . . . I am too weak a man to tell her that we should live apart, though that might be best for her." He sighed.

"You wished to see me?"

"I am grateful you have come, Severus. And I did ask to see you. I have two favours to ask of you...favours only, and you needn't promise me anything, but . . . I trust you and there's no one else to whom I can turn."

Severus kept his expression neutral. "What are the favours?"

"The first is . . . the person failed this time. The house was somewhat damaged by the fire, but because of the wards on it, it didn't catch the way it might have. The damage from the poison smoke, both to me and to the house, was greater than that from the fire. But if I am attacked again, it will be in a different manner, I am sure, and it is clear that these people intended me to die in this attack. It was much more forceful than any of the earlier assaults. If they manage to attack me again, I might very well be killed."

"It is well that you are still here, then," Severus replied.

Lucius shook his head. "I doubt the Ministry will keep me here indefinitely. But that is not the point. If I am killed, or if I die sooner rather than later from some other cause, I'd like you to look after Narcissa and Draco. Draco in particular. He looks up to you, respects you. I have been grateful that he has taken you as a role model. It would ease my heart to know that you will continue to provide him with support and guidance if I die, even after he leaves Hogwarts. Stay in contact with him, Severus. Be . . . be like a father to him." Lucius blinked rapidly and cleared his throat. "Please. For his sake."

Severus let out a long, slow breath. "If Draco continues to . . . appreciate my presence in his life, of course. I wish to see him succeed in life. He is becoming a fine wizard, Lucius. You can be proud of him."

"I am. Narcissa told me he was made a prefect again this autumn. I am grateful to you for that."

Severus shook his head. "I suggested it, but it was the Headmistress's decision. And she has not had occasion to regret it."

"Thank her for me."

Severus nodded. He anticipated that the second favour would be one that he would be more loathe to grant. "And the other favour?"

"The wards saved the house from destruction, but they would not have saved me. I was unaware that the monitoring device, the Charmed anklet, not only would detect it if I were to leave the house, but that it would return me there as soon as I stepped more than a foot or two out the door. Whenever I had been brought to St. Mungo's or elsewhere for a scheduled appointment, I was accompanied by someone who removed the anklet and replaced it with a different one, but I was unaware why. I suppose that they thought that making the anklet a Portkey was a clever idea...and it was...but it did not foresee any circumstance in which I might leave the house under some duress."

"So how did you escape?" Severus asked, wondering what this had to do with Malfoy's favour.

"Twice, I stepped out the front door, and twice, I was returned to the sitting room. The smoke was thick and burning, my eyes felt like they were on fire, and my lungs felt as though they were turning to ash. I couldn't see or think clearly enough to find my way to the back door, though I might have been safe in the garden. I tried a third time to come through the front door, falling out of the house only to land back in the sitting room. I confess that I almost gave up then, Severus, but I thought of Cissy and all she had already suffered, and I crawled toward the door, hoping to at least be able to lay my head upon the threshold and breathe some clean air, if my lungs could even manage that." Lucius paused, seeming overcome by emotion, but after holding his breath a moment and letting it out slowly, he continued. "I had no doubt that I would die, but at least I would be found by the door and Cissy would know that I had not given up, you see. I was groping my way along the floor in that little entry hall when the door opened and a man burst in." This time, Lucius took in a shuddering breath and did not attempt to withhold the few tears now welling up in his eyes. "He grabbed me and held on . . . and held on to me. He pulled me through to the door, and I told him to leave me. He said that he didn't know what devilry was at work, but he was not going to let go of me, and if I was swept back into the house, then he was going with me." Lucius swallowed and a tear trickled down his cheek. "This Muggle had seen me come to the door three times and then disappear back into the house each time. He was not going to let me . . ." Lucius turned his head away, and Severus shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but remained quiet.

Lucius cleared his throat again and continued. "He was not going to let me die alone, Severus. This Muggle who didn't even know me, who didn't understand what he was seeing, he was going to save me or die with me. I never knew . . ."

"A brave man, indeed," Severus said.

Lucius sniffed and reached for a handkerchief, delicately wiping his tears from his cheeks. He nodded. "Very brave. But fortunately for us both, the Portkey was only set to activate for me alone. I don't know why that would be, except that presumably anyone who was accompanying me on an escape from the house would eventually let me go and I would be returned." Lucius shrugged. "At any rate, he held onto me, didn't let me go, and we made it outside. He kept his arms around me until the Aurors came. Someone disabled the Portkey, and then they Obliviated him. He saved my life, and they Obliviated him, Severus. I don't know how much, if anything, he remembers, and I don't know whether he ever received any treatment for his smoke inhalation. It was some kind of potion. I don't think that the Muggles would know how to treat something like that. He shouldn't suffer some permanent disability because he saved my life."

"So what do you want from me?" Severus asked.

"Find him for me. Find him, see that he is well. If he isn't, then find some way to get him treatment for his lungs and any other ailments he may suffer as a result of saving me. No one here can tell me anything about him, who he is, whether he was treated, nothing. I don't think they know anything, and they aren't motivated to find out, either."

"Did you ask the Healer who treated you today?" Severus asked.

"No. What would she know of it? Of course . . . if he were treated, perhaps she might have known about that even if she hadn't seen him herself. A Muggle treated for poison potion inhalation might be remarked upon. Perhaps I ought to have asked her."

"Who was the Healer? If she treated you, it is possible that she also treated the Muggle."

"Healer O'Donald. Scottish, though. In her late fifties or early sixties, I'd say."

"She is Minerva's niece. I know her fairly well. I will ask her if she knows anything. She is discreet and can be trusted. I don't know how I'm to find this Muggle, though, if he wasn't treated."

"His name was Jamie. Someone called him that. He was wearing a uniform of some sort, but not police or fire. Perhaps a bus driver or a railway worker. I could barely see anything at all, you understand." Lucius thought for a moment, gazing off as he tried to recollect what he could. "A big man. At least three or four inches taller than I, and burly. I find it difficult to judge the age of a Muggle even when I can see properly, but he wasn't a young man. Still strong, though. Middle-aged, I'd guess. Strong local accent. Country, though, I think."

"All right, we're looking for a middle-aged Yorkshireman named 'Jamie' who likely works in Leeds in some kind of service job. Six foot two or three and strongly built. Not very much to go on."

"He must live or work nearby. He was passing by on foot, after all."

"He could have been visiting someone or had some other business in the area."

"Please, Severus. I owe this man my life, and I cannot do this myself. I would ask Draco, but aside from the fact that he is at school, I don't want him to . . . it's difficult to explain. And you are more experienced. You have contacts that he does not have."

"I will do what I can. You know, Lucius, whatever you may think about me and my status, there are some who may not view me kindly. I have been told that I might be in danger, myself. I ought not be making unnecessary excursions from the castle."

"Ah . . . I see . . ." Lucius sighed.

"As I say, I will do what I can. But I cannot promise you that I will find this man. Simply discovering his identity might prove difficult."

"If you do, in addition to ensuring that he has had appropriate treatment for the smoke damage, I would like you to give him something from me. He may not have any memory of me or what he did, but you can tell him it's from someone for whom he did a great favour."

"What do you want me to give him?"

"I have spoken with Narcissa about this, and she is agreed. In fact, this particular gift was her idea. Her grandmother left her some jewellery, a few pieces of which Cissy was able to save and bring with her to Sweden. There is an emerald brooch. Its inherent value is rather great, I believe. See Cissy and she will give it to you. You may use your judgment when you meet the man and learn something of his life and his . . . his abilities whether to give him the brooch or to sell it yourself and give him the money. I leave that decision up to you. And if he . . . if he is dead, see that his family receives the money."

"I will do what I can," Severus said.

"I did think about what you said at our last meeting, Severus. I felt sorry for myself, and I was not inclined to listen to you, but I have had a lot of time to reflect upon what you said, and on my life. I still never would have believed that a Muggle would have such bravery or such tenacity in the face of danger, particularly in the face of Dark Magic. He knew that what was happening was something beyond his experience, but he faced it to the point where he would have died rather than allow me to face it alone. In principle, I believe that Obliviating Muggles is the right thing to do when they encounter something from our world, but when I think of that man, Jamie, and what he did . . . it seems unjust to Obliviate from him the memory of such a noble act."

"They may have been selective about what they did, how much they removed from his memory. They may have simply altered it. He could be down in his local right now, telling stories about how he pulled some skinny blond bloke from a burning building the other day."

"Perhaps," Lucius said with a slight laugh. He glanced up at the door, where Draco was standing, chatting with one of the guards. "I do wish to see my son before you leave, however, and I am sure that you have things to do at Hogwarts."

"I do. In fact, I had to reschedule a very important meeting in order to come here this evening."

"I am sorry, Severus, but I am glad you came. Thank you. And thank you for your help."

"I'll see what I can do. I will inform you when there is something to inform you about...or if I have been unable to find out anything about the man."

Severus waited outside the door as Lucius and Draco spoke, giving them a little privacy, but was relieved when Draco was back just a few minutes later.

"Let's hurry. The climb out of this purgatory will take long enough as it is," Severus said softly as Draco stepped out into the hall.

Draco nodded and the two wizards strode down the hall. As they reached the end of the hall, one of the doors opened as a guard entered, and Severus reflexively looked into the room. Bellatrix. Wild, mad Bellatrix Black Lestrange.

"I don't fucking well care what that bloody cunt wants!" she was shouting at Madam Macmillan. "She will pay! She will serve us! The time will come! You, I might spare, you..." She caught sight of Severus and Draco and stopped mid-sentence, her mouth open. She screamed suddenly, a long, high-pitched screech, and Severus and Draco both took a quick step back.

"Aaaaaaaaaah!" The scream continued, and the guard drew a ceramic object from his robes and held it up to her.

"Stop that now," he bellowed, "or I'll use this again, and you won't like it!"

"Sev– er– us! It is you! You! Oh, it must be you! You were to die, but you lived! You live! It is you! Please, please, don't forget me! Don't leave your Bella here when you come into your own! Have you returned for me? Please, please, Master!" Her arms were outstretched and her eyes, large and wild, were focussed on Severus.

Severus, in utter revulsion, stepped backwards, bumping into Madam Framingham, who had come around the corner.

"Macmillan, I told you to keep her quiet! Lake! Why didn't you use the Stunner? Just shut her up already!"

The guard jabbed the ceramic wedge towards Bella; a bright orange light emitted from it and she stumbled back, but it did not deter her from continued raving.

"Severus, Master, Lord, I am loyal! See what these rotting corpses are doing to me? They will rot! Rot, rot, rot! Make them bloat and rot and suffer for their crimes! Worms shall crawl through their eyes and their lungs shall stretch out upon their arms! They will scream in an agony of a thousand deaths and they shall pay!"

Severus and Draco, appalled, stepped back again, Severus grabbing Draco's arm and pulling him toward the small reception area. Up and down the hallway, several patients had come to their doors, looking out their windows or standing in their open doorways, trying to see what was happening. Severus recognised them all. More guards came to assist Lake.

"Don't leave me! I did not fail you!" She let out another loud scream as the guard thrust the Charmed Stunner toward her again, and this time, she nearly fell. Two other guards grabbed her arms, and though Bella struggled, they brought her down onto the bed. Severus and Draco did not linger to see what happened to her next. As they reached the front desk, they could still hear her screaming invectives at the guards until suddenly, all was quiet.

"DXV twelve at it again," Butterworth said, shaking his head. "She'd been too quiet all day. I knew she was ready for another blow-up. Didn't want to take her new potion, I imagine."

Severus, still stunned by the vision of Bella screaming at him, calling his name, couldn't respond except to nod his head slightly. This was not purgatory; this was hell.

It was only a short wait before Madam Framingham returned and fetched their belongings from her office. Severus barely glanced at his watch as he replaced it in its pocket and secured the chain. Bella was not only mad, she was dangerously mad. It would have been better if she had been killed. Whatever mercy Longbottom, Sprout, and Gareth McGonagall had shown her, there was no mercy in her and no kindness in her captivity.

"I hope you had a good visit with your father," Madam Framingham said.

Draco nodded mutely.

"I apologise for the disruption. She gets like that."

Draco nodded again.

"She's a relative of yours, too, isn't she?" Madam Framingham asked.

"She . . . she was my aunt," Draco said softly.

"I am sorry."

The two began the climb back up in silence, and though the guards nodded in greeting at each landing, the two scarcely noticed.

When they got close to the last landing, Draco whispered, "She thinks it's you."

"Don't say that."

"If she gets out..."

"Out of here? She will only leave here when she's dead, Draco. And maybe not even then. I pity the inmates who must endure not only their own mental illness or physical injury, but also her ravings. As a ghost, they could not even stun her to shut her up."

"She..."

"We are almost out of here. Let's leave her behind," Severus said. "And I think we will need to pause on the landing. But only briefly." He took out his pocket watch. "It is later than I'd thought. We need to hurry."

"Diagon Alley..."

"Can't it wait?"

"I won't be able to get here again for a while. But if you can't . . ." Draco subsided.

At the top landing, the guards let them sit in their chairs for a few minutes, and Severus tried to rub his knees discreetly. His knees weren't the only parts that ached, either. His ankles, hips, and back were complaining, and he thought that he would carry the Dark Lord's marks on his body forever, even if his brand had vanished entirely.

They retrieved their wands from another guard, this one younger and less chatty than Kurt, which was fine with Severus, then they left Mungo's. Severus breathed in the London air with a sense of great relief, even glad of the automobile fumes and smells of fried fish coming from the chip shop down the street.

"Diagon Alley, then," Severus said. "But only one stop. Choose your destination carefully!"

"Honeydukes," Draco said.

Severus nodded, led Draco around the corner to an alley that smelled of vagrants and rotting vegetables, took his arm, and Disapparated as a lorry rumbled past.

Draco was quick in Honeydukes, selecting a large box of black-current-flavoured buzzing humbugs, a small box of mixed chocolate truffles, and four Acid Pops.

"Are you getting anything, Professor?"

"Hmm?" Severus looked around him, still bemused by their visit to the underground ward at St. Mungo's.

"Something for yourself?"

"Ah . . ." Poppy. He drew out his watch. Eight-twenty already. But he could bring her something. He looked at the box of chocolate truffles in Draco's hand. Too obviously not something he would purchase for himself. Some glazed almonds caught his eye. He asked the witch behind the counter for a quarter pound each of the four different kinds of glazed nuts, just mixing them in one box.

After they had paid, they stepped out onto the pavement. Diagon Alley was still alive with people even at that hour, and Severus took in a deep breath.

"Acid Pop, Professor?" Draco offered, holding one out. "I got an extra."

Severus shook his head and led him toward the Leaky Cauldron. "We have to get going. We're running late. I never took you to be one for sweets, Newman."

"Only the Acid Pops are for me. The buzzing humbugs are for Sefton. She still giggles when they buzz," he said with a grin.

"And the truffles? May I gather that you have a young lady in mind for those?"

"Sort of." Draco shrugged. "Someone who has helped me with my revision for the Defence NEWT."

"I wouldn't think you would require any assistance in Defence, even if you are taking the NEWT independently...have you sought permission already? I haven't seen anything about that."

"I submitted the form directly to Professor Dumbledore." He blushed. "Actually, I owled it to him. I haven't heard back yet. I hope he gives permission. Anyway, I needed the notes from the ethics lectures. I've read the books, but I heard that the lectures cover more than the texts do. I thought I would have to wing it, but someone offered her notes to me."

"And this 'someone' is?" Severus prodded.

"Weasley, actually. She was quite decent about it. I didn't even ask. She just offered. And we've talked about the stuff they've covered in class, so she was helpful. I thought I should thank her."

Severus nodded, and as they were entering the pub, he heard his name called. He turned his head. McGonagall. With Alroy and Quin MacAirt.

"Hey, Snape! Never would have expected to see you out tonight! We're just going for a drink. Want to come?" Gareth asked.

"No, thank you. We have to be getting back." He remembered his manners. "Draco Newman, this is Gareth McGonagall, Alroy MacAirt, and his father, Quin MacAirt."

Draco nodded. "Pleased to meet you." He glanced at the oldest MacAirt, but then he turned to Gareth. "I understand you assisted my father. My family is in your debt."

"No. Just doing what needed doing at the time," Gareth said. "I was glad to be able to help. Though if you could convince Professor Snape here to join us for a drink..."

"I cannot," Severus said. "Mr Newman and I are overdue back at Hogwarts, and as he is in my care, I could not simply join you."

"In your care!" Draco interrupted.

"In a manner of speaking," Severus said. "In any case, I have a meeting with the matron, and it is already late."

"Ah!" Gareth nodded. "Don't let us keep you, then."

"Good to meet you," Draco said as the other wizards said good-bye. "Um, Mr MacAirt, do you suppose . . . I was wondering if we might meet some time. Perhaps over lunch. I am exploring opportunities following my NEWTs."

Quin grinned at him. "Sure, be happy to meet with you. Both of us will, right, Alroy?"

Alroy smiled and nodded. "We can see, certainly."

"Come, we are late," Severus said impatiently. "I am sure that you can owl Mr MacAirt."

"We're Flooing?" Draco asked.

"Yes. We can Floo to the Three Broomsticks and Apparate from there. It has been a long day."

Draco nodded. "I could Apparate us..."

"We are here. We will Floo." He looked around. The usual somewhat mixed crowd. "You go first. Wait for me at the other end."

When they finally reached the Hogwarts gates and Severus opened them with his password, Draco asked, "Did they increase the security here because of me? Because I'm here?"

"No. Not for you specifically," Severus said curtly. He looked up at the castle and tried to pick up the pace. The lights were on in the infirmary. It was not yet eight forty-five, but he was late and he hadn't had an opportunity to send a Patronus. He could send one to Minerva now, he supposed, but he felt too enervated to draw his wand and cast. He saw movement behind the windows in the Hospital Wing. Poppy and another. Probably the Headmistress. Gods, how he wanted to get home; he wished he could simply Apparate straight into Poppy's arms.

"I will see you tomorrow, Mr Newman," Severus said as they reached the entry hall. "It was an interesting evening, but not one I would care to repeat."

"Thank you for coming, Professor. And I'm sorry about Bella."

"You are not responsible for the sanity or insanity of your relatives, thankfully. Let us not speak of it further."

Severus climbed the stairs to the fourth floor as quickly as he could, given his weariness and the pain in his joints. As he reached the Hospital Wing, the door opened and Minerva stepped out.

"We were beginning to worry, Severus."

"I had no opportunity to contact you. I am sorry. It was . . . it was an awkward evening."

Minerva nodded. "I'll just say good-night, then. We can speak later. I'm glad you're back."

Severus stepped into the infirmary, and he felt himself relax as he saw Poppy step out of her office and come towards him.

"Poppy, I'm sorry I am later than I had thought."

"I'm glad you're back. Oh, Severus, I am glad you are here." Poppy put her arms around him and held on, burying her face in his chest.

Severus relaxed further, resting his cheek against her head and breathing her in. Home. The scent of home.

NEXT

Chapter Seventy-Two: Home

Monday, 22 March 1999

Severus returns home.

Rated T.

Characters: Severus Snape, Poppy Pomfrey, Minerva McGonagall