Chapter Four

Three attempts, and there was little improvement in the tiny girl's respiration. Although her skin now glowed with the peachy blush of the newly born, the walls of her chest still revealed far too much of the underlying bone structure with each inward draw for Severus' satisfaction. What the infant needed was the kind of aggressive, invasive attention he could never bring himself to deliver, despite Poppy's attempts to..."toughen" him up through her kindly worded instruction and gentle nudges.

"What is worse, Mr. Snape?" The midwife moved him aside with her hip. The pale blue streaks of magic from the end of her wand intensified to a shade closer to violet. The baby boy's body arched and convulsed like a first-year Slytherin during initiation. Severus shivered in commiseration with the pitiful creature in the white oak cot. "To allow a child to be in agony for a few paltry moments?" Another quick flick of the wrist and the lightning arcs of magic fused into a single, soft beam of warm green. Almost before one could blink, the babe calmed, his color much improved and his breaths more regular. "Or for hours under the torture of tubes and needles?"

Severus shuddered slightly as the memory faded into the low-level noise found in any active mind. His more senior colleague was right, of course. It was easier in the long run. But after years of servitude to a master who found torture as entertaining as the local pub quiz, he simply couldn't bear casting even the most harmless diagnostic spell on an innocent. Although the pain was exceedingly brief, perhaps not even fully registering in the newly minted nervous system, he could not...

"Merlin's scraggly beard!"

The Healer's favorite expletive was as beautiful as the canonical strains that had accompanied his blushing bride and her bespectacled escort along the flower-strewn tapestry aisle runner chosen to cover the ancient floors of Crathie Kirk on their wedding day. Were it in his nature, he would have pounced on the poor woman and hugged her until her stays creaked. Thankfully, his wife was a Gryffindor. There was little doubt she'd express the relief enough for the both of them.

"Poppy!" Hermione spun around so quickly, Severus felt a twinge of vertigo. "Oh, we're so glad you are here. Severus is doing an amazing job with the baby, but he can't see to the mother, too. And the baby still seems to be having a bit of difficulty, though not as much so as when Severus first unwrapped her..."

If the situation weren't so dire, he would have laughed at the effect Hogwarts' matron still had on his beloved little lioness. The older witch had been in the room all of five seconds, and his normally calm and collected wife was blathering like the eleven-year-old know-it-all she'd been when she had first graced the halls of the celebrated school of witchcraft and wizardry. Then again, Madam Pomfrey's renowned no-nonsense demeanor had that effect on all but those too afflicted by idiocy to recognize its possible malevolence.

"Madam Snape."

The tone was not nearly so sharp as the one Severus used when pushed to the limits of his irritation, but the sternness undergirding Poppy's words had the desired result. Hermione's mouth snapped closed, and she shifted a little further into the shadow of his presence.

"I may be only slightly younger than magic itself, but I assure you my senses are as acute as they ever were." The prim woman bustled across the room. "One doesn't need a set of Omnioculars to see you are in quite a fix this time. No doubt thanks to Mr. Ronald Weasley."

"Poppy," Severus warned. The last thing he needed was for the rumors to start before he had a handle on this case. Although the mediwitch very rarely precipitated the gossip along Hogwarts' network, she could let things slip if she were on one of her rants about the debacle the ginger member of the Golden Trio had made of his life. "To place blame at this point would only be conjecture."

"Conjecture, Albus' arse," she snorted. "More like bloody obvious. I'm not a fool, Severus. I've been to this flat more times than I can count since the boy started down his self-paved road to destruction." She nodded toward the bed. "That girl is not the first and most likely won't be the last." Her eyes softened, modulating the frown into something closer to a relieved smile. "Your wife is the only one to make it out of this place physically unscathed, my darling boy." She leveled a benevolent gaze at the couple she'd counseled and healed numerous times over the years. "You were both very lucky that day, my dears." Her lips completed the upward curl, but it lasted only a moment, then started a rapid descent. The others..." Her voice trailed off, betraying the guilt she still felt over those she saw as personal failures. The slight shake of her head carried the same heavy tone as Westminster's death knell.

Severus winced as his friend's features morphed from grateful, to sad, to the stern mask she favored when in Healer mode. There was no need to remind him of that day. Or of their luck. Or of his need for gratitude to the universe for its charity. He had spent several minutes daily thanking God they had arrived in time. He took Hermione's hand in his and entwined their fingers. Thank you for her life, he breathed, hoping a little bit of the grace bestowed on them would spill over onto the current lost souls in the room.

"Now, enough with this nonsense." Poppy brushed them out of the way with a dismissive wave. "Stand aside and let me tend to the infant." Hope, irritation, and doubt fought for dominance in her sigh. "Then I'll see to the girl."

A gentle sweep of the older witch's hand cleared and cleaned another spot on the table. She pulled a few bundles from the deep pockets of her medical robes, then unsheathed a wand. A wand that looked nothing like the one Hermione had seen far too many times to count over the years.

Getting her husband's attention with a touch of her elbow to his side, Hermione widened her eyes, then shifted them to the sliver of wood in the matron's hand. A carefully arched eyebrow asked. A slight dip of his head confirmed it was not the witch's customary rod. An all-but-imperceptible shrug of his shoulders indicated he had no foreknowledge of its existence. Did that mean it was unregistered? And if it were unregistered and the Ministry discovered...

"I can assure you, my dear, this is a legally registered magical device."

Hermione couldn't help but flinch at the unexpected intrusion of the Healer's amusement-laced voice answering the silent question. She glanced at her husband again. Disbelief flitted near the fringes of those near-black orbs. Nearby, the wand in question carried out the unvoiced orders of its mistress with seamless precision. Little spurts of pale-colored spell light from its tip settled on each package, carefully enlarging and organizing the supplies. It was obvious the bit of wood and the woman's magic meshed together perfectly. So, if it were obtained under suspicious circumstances, it had certainly accepted this witch and her magic. Unlike Bellatrix's. The mere thoughts of that bent bit of walnut caused an unpleasant tingle to return to...

"Oh, do stop frowning, Hermione. With tonight's predicted temperatures, those wrinkles are likely to freeze that way if you don't." Clearly finished with the unpacking, the Healer turned her attention to the tiny newborn. Runes of differing shades of greens and yellows appeared in the air above the struggling little body. "This wand was legitimately obtained during a visit to the States a few years back. Since their laws are a bit more relaxed in certain areas of magic, it allows me to perform the diagnostic spells without having to worry about the bloody Ministry sticking its unwelcome nose in the middle of situations those old biddies need not concern themselves with." She looked at Severus briefly, eyebrows furrowed in slight warning. "Am I correct to assume this is one of those situations?"

Most would not have noticed the shakiness of Severus' sigh, but Hermione did. Whether it was because of their bond or her keen observation abilities, she had always been able to discern the tiny nuances that gave away his emotions. Even when she was nothing more than another student to be filleted by his scorn. He was apprehensive about this whole thing, uncertain as to what the best course of action was for all parties involved.

Slowly, he nodded. Just a curt bounce of his head, but it was enough. As far as the magical world was concerned, this baby, and most likely the young mother in the bed across the room, would not exist until he said they did.

"Good." Poppy switched the signature of the spell, concentrating the beam of magic on the infant's chest. Slowly, its rise and fall smoothed out to a healthier rhythm. "Better to keep her out of Molly Weasley's clutches for as long as possible."