Chapter Five: A Pain In The Neck

"I'm sorry, Severus, I seem to be having trouble in discerning what the problem is. Can you be more specific?"

Part of him resented the fact that there was nothing within nearby reach that he could throw with sufficient force whilst another part was grateful that was the case. A petulant fit would do little to improve his argument. Snape closed his eyes briefly in a mixture of exasperation and the effort to keep a semblance of calm in front of Dumbledore.

"It was my understanding, Headmaster, that this school was for those in possession of magical abilities. Am I wrong in this summation?"

Dumbledore glanced up at the ceiling of his study in a brief gesture of thought. "One might interpret the rules in that fashion, yes."

"Headmaster, the rules you mention clearly state that ..."

"... that Hogwarts is a school of witchcraft and wizardry whose aim is to educate those in need of magical knowledge," Dumbledore finished for him. "I'm perfectly aware of the school's tenets, Severus, but I fail to see the conflict that you do."

"Parr is a Muggle! She shouldn't even be here, let alone be taught as a student.

Dumbledore scratched the side of his head and sighed. "Severus, the two worlds can't be as separate as you think they should be. There has to be some crossover between the two, no matter how much of an anathema it may seem."

"Why?" Snape asked bluntly.

Dumbledore squinted at him. "Because both worlds currently share the same space, and, might I also point out, some of the same problems." He held up his hand as Snape opened his mouth. "Severus, I will not be drawn into another debate centring on your opinions as to how magicfolk and non-magicfolk should interact. Chara has been accepted as a student here in full compliance with the school rules."

"But once you let one Muggle in..."

"Chara is not the first non-magical to be taught here," Dumbledore interrupted. "Two others have passed through during my tenure, and at least one I know of during Dippet's, so I can hardly be blamed for bringing the school into disrepute." He noted the slightly stunned expression on Snape's face. "There are times when a tighter collaboration between the two worlds is necessary. Things can't always be classified black and white...the shades of grey have a foot in both camps. I would think that you would know that better than anyone else." The slight sting of reproach in his voice was unmistakeable.

Snape looked over his right should to where Parr was standing. She'd drifted over to Fawkes' perch almost as soon as they had entered Dumbledore's study and hadn't moved from her gazing point. Snape and Dumbledore might very well have not been there for all the attention she was paying to the conversation.

"She's not a Squib, is she?" asked Snape shrewdly. He turned back to the Headmaster who, for once, was actually giving him his full attention, or at least giving the semblance that he was.

Dumbledore smiled benignly. "Not to my knowledge."

"Then why this Muggle? What is it that makes her so different from all the others that she must be here?"

Dumbledore pressed his lips into an even thinner pair of lines as he stood up. "Circumstances dictate it, Severus, and I might add that it is not customary for me to divulge the ins and outs of a student's prior history." The old wizard picked up a dusty book from his desk and drifted away, putting some distance between himself and Parr. "I have a book that you might be interested in, Severus. I found it during the summer break whilst I was in France. The condition is really quite superb."

Snape rolled his eyes in tired frustration and followed Dumbledore to the bookcase.

"Severus, I would ask that you do not discuss the situation with any other staff member, any student, or really, anyone else besides me," said Dumbledore under his breath as he slipped the book he had been carrying amongst its fellows on the shelf. "Non-magical students are always kept anonymous as much as possible, and I would not wish that long-standing practice to stop during my time here."

Snape blinked and shuffled some information about in his head. "Is there any danger to other students?"

Dumbledore paused in pulling out another book and narrowed his eyes at Snape. He paused noticeably before answering. "I don't believe so."

"Surely letting other staff members know would help keep the situation more tightly controlled."

The Headmaster gave a tight smile at that comment. "Alas, it has been my experience that some teachers, well-meaning though they may be, have some trouble keeping certain elements of information to themselves. That is why it is on a need-to-know basis, and that is how I can control the flow of information best."

Snape scowled, certain that Dumbledore was making a comment about his suspected role in Lupin's lycanthropy becoming commonly known last year that resulted in the man having to resign from his position as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"What about the board of governors?" he posed, reflecting Dumbledore's small smile with a twisted one of his own. "Are they apprised of the... situation?"

The Headmaster's features hardened at that. "You can rest assured that they know that Chara is here. In fact, I personally presented the five letters of recommendation for her to attend Hogwarts from rather prominent members of the wizarding world at a meeting of the governors last Sunday." He pulled the tome he had selected out completely from the shelf and handed it to Snape. "I believe it's a first print."

The Potions master looked at the front cover with its faded and cracked leather decorated with pale letters of gold. It was a copy of Truhillo's Hallucinogenic Spores of the Western Thallophyta. Very rare indeed, he admitted, suppressing a more noticeable indication of surprise at being handed so precious a piece of literature. The cynic in him whispered that it was more likely a tactic by the Headmaster to mollify him into not asking any more questions about Parr. Snape hefted the book in his hands slightly as if weighing up its efficacy in such a tactic and opened his mouth again.

The sound of Fawkes' melancholic trill stopped him before he could speak, and both men looked over to the bird. The phoenix was leaning over sharply on his perch, head outstretched towards Parr's crouched figure.

"Chara?" Dumbledore called, hastening over to her. "Are you alright?"

Parr was almost kneeling on the floor, one hand placed in front to steady her whilst the back of the other hand was pressed against her neck. Her face was hidden behind the pale hair that fell forward, obscuring her features but not blocking out her slightly hoarse reply.

"I believe that it might be a good idea if I went to see Madam Pomfrey, Headmaster." She remained hunched over, her school robes pooled around her. Dumbledore managed to coax her to a standing position, and it was as her head lifted slightly that Snape saw her hand was streaked with thread-thin lines of the bright red blood that had already soaked through the bandage around her neck. Her face had become a ghostly white that rivalled her hair, and dark circles under her eyes made her look thoroughly wretched.

"For how long has it been hurting?" Dumbledore asked her, prising Parr's hand gently away from her neck.

Parr's head drifted slowly to one side and down towards her shoulder. "About an hour, I think," she slurred, forehead rippling into furrows. "It got a lot worse than I thought it would, I'm afraid."

"Severus, can you make sure Chara gets to the infirmary?" Dumbledore asked him, "I'm not sure she can get there unaided." It was probably only his grip on her arm that prevented the woman from sinking back to the floor again.

Snape's first reaction would've been one of annoyance at the request had he not seen the degree of blood around Parr's neck. A bleed like that was potentially serious, and certainly something that required immediate and urgent attention. Fortunately, it appeared to be a sluggish bleed. A fountain of arterial blood would have caused far more alarm in him.

He pocketed the book and swept over. The noticeably greenish cast to Parr's face gave him pause. He wasn't very good with vomiting. Blood he had no problems with, but vomit took all his willpower not to heave up the contents of his own stomach. He'd have to keep her at arm's length as much as possible, but considering the way Dumbledore was holding her up, she didn't have much leg strength. Great. Just what he needed: trying to drag a disorientated, weak-kneed, pre-vomiting and dangerously bleeding student down two flights of stone steps and up another. Snape sighed and gritted his teeth.

"Can you stand by yourself?" he grated at Parr, earning him a disapproving frown from Dumbledore.

Parr squeezed her eyes closed and flexed her hands. "Ah, yes, I think so,' she replied quietly. Her eyes opened again with a touch more focus in them than before.

"Severus, help her or she'll fall down and hurt herself further," said Dumbledore sternly.

Parr shrank away from Snape's outstretched hand. "No! I'm fine,' she almost shouted with a wild look about her eyes. Both men froze at the outburst. "Excuse me, I meant to say I think I'll be fine to walk unassisted, thank you," she reiterated in a more moderate tone of voice. Dumbledore reluctantly released his grip on her arm.

"Well, if you think that..." he began, doubtful.

"The Headmaster is right," Snape interrupted. "We can't have you collapsing down stairs now, can we?"

Parr's eyes sharpened noticeably under her lowered brows as she drew further away from him. It seemed a foolish attitude considering her condition. Or perhaps, she just didn't want him touching her. Despite the severity of the situation, that possibility irritated him.

"I'm not an invalid, Professor," she hissed at him, fists clenched at her sides.

"I was thinking more of the floors. Filch complains incessantly at having to scrub blood out of stone."

"Then perhaps that can serve as part of my detention tomorrow," she shot back at him, the green cast to her skin counteracted by the angry flush in her cheeks.

"I think you have enough to do already without that," he parried calmly, getting ratty at her recalcitrance.

Dumbledore cleared his throat as a subtle indicator to stop the sniping. Snape took the hint and indicated that Parr should precede him to the door of the study.

"I'll check on you later, Chara," Dumbledore assured her as she gathered the hem of the robes up in her unbloodied hand.

"That's very thoughtful of you, Headmaster," she responded with a tired smile. She drew herself up straighter. "Sorry to have disturbed you so late in the evening." She turned carefully and made her way to the door.

"Try not to provoke her, Severus," Dumbledore suggested under his breath.

Snape stared at him. "Does she bite, Headmaster?" he asked just as quietly as he moved to follow Parr.

"Sometimes," was the almost inaudible reply, making him pause mid-step.

Parr quickly straightened from the wall she had been leaning against as Snape shut the door to Dumbledore's study behind him. Keen not to show any more weakness than necessary, he guessed. It would be interesting to see how long she could hold that up for. She turned her head and peered out of the corner of her eye at him warily as he walked up behind her.

"After you, Miss Parr, unless you don't feel you can make it down the staircase without somersaulting face first," he said tersely, looking down his nose at her.

Parr rolled her shoulders back irritably, making the tendon in the right joint click loudly, and walked slowly towards the stairs. As she reached the first step, she hesitated, head tipped forward to assess her footing. Seconds passed. Snape watched her silently as she wavered gently. He stuck out a long finger and pushed her in the back, making her tip forward, and had to grab her by the robes to stop her from falling headfirst. She barely registered what had happened and didn't even raise her head.

"Fine to walk unassisted?" Snape sneered at her and sighed loudly. He wondered if it would be easier to grab her around the middle and hoist her down the stairs like a rolled-up carpet, but he thought of the vomiting issue again and decided against it. He'd just hold her up by the fistful of material he already had in his hand. He twisted it to get a better grip and then pushed her in front of him. "Try and watch where you're putting your feet," he instructed stonily.

It was with some surprise that they got to the infirmary without Parr collapsing or spewing. There was a brief delay while Snape reprimanded a couple of second-year Hufflepuffs for being out of their house quarters close to midnight, but other than that the corridors had been deserted.

Fortunately, Madam Pomfrey had still been awake when they arrived. She took one look at Parr's sagging form and dropped the bandages she had been rolling with her wand.

"What's happened?" she shrilled, hurrying forward like an aproned steamtrain.

"A student requires your attention," Snape replied laconically and thrust Parr towards the mediwitch. Parr tottered towards Pomfrey who latched on to her arm with a vice-like grip and drew her away to the nearest sick-bed. Sitting her down, Pomfrey started to fuss at the woman's neck bandages until Parr stopped her with a raised hand and spoke to her quietly. Snape couldn't make out any of the words, but Pomfrey flicked a glance up at him. A few hushed sentences were exchanged, and Parr nodded slowly. Pomfrey ducked into her little side-room and gathered up a few things. He watched her hand a small glass bottle to Parr and assessed that the opportunity for surreptitious information gathering was probably non-existent. Snape turned to go. This wasn't a place he wanted to be right now.

"Just a moment, Severus," Pomfrey called out behind him, catching him just as he reached the door. "I need to speak to you before you leave." He frowned at her, but she was too busy cutting off the bloodied bandage around Parr's neck to notice. He sighed audibly and tapped his foot, and lurked uncomfortably at the opposite end of the room.

It was hardly inconspicuous that Parr was not in the sort of physical health that permitted laxity or disregard. Whilst Snape didn't doubt that Madam Pomfrey was more than capable of dealing with the situation, common sense would dictate that Parr be restricted to a medical institution like St Mungo's instead of a poorly equipped school infirmary.

If Parr had a tutor before arriving at Hogwarts, it might suggest she had access to others. Therefore, magical education was available to her outside of Hogwarts. What did she gain by being here?

The tap of Pomfrey's footsteps brought Snape out of his reverie. He looked up to find the mediwitch approaching with a wooden chair clutched in her hand and a look on her face that could stop a Hippogriff in its tracks.

"I understand you've been experiencing headaches, Severus," she said flintily and placed the chair on the floor with a determined clack. "If you'll just take a seat, please." It wasn't a request.

"What for?" he asked suspiciously. "Surely you have more important medical conditions to attend to right now, Poppy."

Pomfrey tutted, lifted the chair again and swept around and behind him with an irritated rustle of skirts. The chair's seat being rammed sharply into the back of his legs made him sit down before he could stop himself. The impact woke the headache up from its sleep, reverberating nastily behind his eyes. The mediwitch clamped her iron claws on to his shoulders to stop him from getting up.

"What are you doing?" he snapped.

"Why didn't you come and see me before?" she demanded to know, seeming to exert no effort in holding him down in the chair. The woman had the strength of an ogre, and by the sound of her voice, the temper of one as well.

"I'm perfectly capable of handling a headache," he retorted.

"Well, you're here now, so sit still and hush up," she commanded and started to unbutton his coat from behind. A sharp slap knocked his hand away from stopping her. "It won't make the slightest difference to me if you choose to be difficult, Severus," she pointed out, "so you might as well keep the stubbornness in check, and I can fix this quickly." He almost yelped as she dug her fingers into his shoulders. Dammit, the woman had the bedside manner of Death Eater. No wonder she had gone into medicine. He glowered at the stone floor at his feet and suffered in silence as she tried to work the knots out of his shoulders. "Hecate's hat, would you relax! You're making this more difficult than it has to be," she griped.

Snape tried relaxing but he was never comfortable with people touching him, and Pomfrey tutted at his lacklustre effort. He rolled his eyes over to where Parr was still sitting with her back to them and both hands holding a plump medical dressing against the front of her neck. He wished he could smack her for mentioning his headache to Pomfrey. If she had any experience with Pomfrey's treatments, she'd have done it out of spite as the cures were frequently as bad as the symptoms they addressed. He clutched at the seat of the chair and the mediwitch slipped one hand over and down the back of his collar to get to his neck, transferring the iron-grip to the muscles there. Snape could really do without this nonsense.

"Yes, I can see you're doing a great job of treating this," Pomfrey huffed. "Maybe if you seen me before your muscles turned into stone you wouldn't have to put up with this."

Snape grunted at her, seething. He suffered in silence for a few minutes, trying to distance himself from the pain that was flooding through his tortured neck. A thought occurred to him and he mulled on it for a while. "Your brother still works at St. Mungo's?" he eventually asked, gritting his teeth as Pomfrey worked at the area above his collarbone. His shirt was beginning to chafe against his skin a particularly unpleasant way.

"Asclepius? Yes. Why do you ask?"

"I heard that there was a murder at the hospital." He suppressed another yelp as Pomfrey jammed her fingers into his scalenes.

"Mmm," she replied, non-committal.

"Does he know what happened?"

Pomfrey's fingers paused. "Don't you read the Daily Prophet?"

"That rag? Certainly not!' he retorted contemptuously.

The fingers of death started moving again. "Well, the rumour goes that one of the patients was found...shredded," she revealed quietly.

Snape started to turn to look at Pomfrey in surprise but she held his head still.

"Stop moving!" she snapped.

"What do you mean, 'shredded'?" he asked stupidly, wincing at a thumb pushing up under his skull roughly and inexorably. Shit, she was going to give him bruises at this rate!

"Asclepius said that one of his colleagues went into the patient's room and found...bits of her scattered everywhere like confetti."

Snape processed this new piece of information with a frown. "Do they know who did it?"

"No. At least I don't think so. There were people from the MLE in and out of the place barely minutes after the mess was found, mainly Aurors."

Aurors? Not surprising given the circumstances. Snape's eyes lost their focus as he tried to reconcile this piece of information with what he knew of the workings of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Considering the number of blunders that occurred under their jurisdiction, it was hard to come up with anything trustworthy.

"Who was the victim?"

"I don't know. Asclepius doesn't either, or he's not telling me, which is understandable." Pomfrey's palms smoothed their way along the sides of Snape's neck. That actually didn't feel too bad, he thought distantly. His headache was still there though, which was disappointing.

This time he did yelp as Pomfrey suddenly and sharply twisted his head up and to the left. Several pops sounded as his vertebrae moved back into their correct positions. "You could've given me some warning!" he proclaimed angrily.

"What for?" she replied with too much smugness in her voice for his liking. "You'd just tense up again if I did."

He stood up abruptly.

"Where are you going?" she asked, smugness turning quickly into annoyance.

"I think that's more treatment than I can handle right now, thank you, Poppy," he responded, buttoning up his coat again. "Perhaps you should attend to your other patient." With that he swept off, stiff-backed, in a billow of black.