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HARRY POTTER FANFICTION > Hogwarts Castle

Characters: Albus Dumbledore, Eileen (Prince) Snape, Hermione Granger, Minerva McGonagall, Poppy Pomfrey, Severus Snape, Tobias Snape
Genre(s): Alternate Universe, Drama, Humor, Psychological, Romance
Warnings: None
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A Long Vernal Season
by MMADfan
T (PG-13)


A Long Vernal Season


Chapter Fourteen: Of Ice Cream, Kittens, and Jet Planes
Tuesday, 1 September 1998

Minerva watched, her knuckles white, as Poppy stiffened in reaction to the venom extract entering her system. Poppy let out a long breath and relaxed consciously despite the sensations that assaulted her. It felt as though there were fire ants circulating with her magic, stinging her several times a second, the prickling and burning jumping unpredictably from one area to another, and then just sweeping through her like a fiery tide ebbing and flowing, now stronger, now weaker. She concentrated on breathing calmly, and she felt Melina’s magic begin to treat her, little soothing strands spreading through her and deadening the effects of the extracted magical toxins.

Poppy became more aware of the magical cord binding her and Severus together, and she sensed the Healing strands of magic pulsing through it. She was startled as between each pulse of magic toward Severus, she felt a responding pulse wash back toward her with increasing strength. She gritted her teeth and closed her eyes as the backwash created a pressure within her magic; she’d never experienced anything like it before, but she felt as though she might burst from it, then as it created a dull, throbbing pain behind her eyes, she wished that she would burst, the pressure was so intense. The fiery, acid prickling continued, though the cooling spells did, as well, and Poppy held her breath against the burn in her magical system and the throbbing pain behind her eyes.

“Does she need the Prospirator?” Poppy heard Minerva ask in agitated tones.

The Healing spells ceased for a moment and the waves of pain were worse, though the pressure lessened, and Poppy felt Melina cast a diagnostic, though it seemed dull and distant.

“No, she’s fine,” Melina said. “You have to remember to breathe, Poppy. I’m sure you’re uncomfortable, but you need to breathe.”

“Uh-huh,” Poppy responded. Breathe. In and out. The Healing spells began again; Melina’s chanting soothed her, and breathing regularly became easier. She still felt the fiery effects of the Nagini venom extract as it coursed through her magic, but they were definitely subsiding. She remembered Severus lying beside her, and she added her own Healing intent to Melina’s as the Healing passed from her to him and then echoed back again. As she was Healed, he would be Healed. The flow of magic between them continued, and Poppy continued to think of Severus and send him her Healing intent with Melina’s.

“Now open, Poppy. I have a potion for you. It’s only a few drops, but you’ll need to swallow it down,” Melina said.

Poppy opened her mouth, but kept her eyes closed, and she tasted a few drops of a bitter potion hitting her tongue. She swallowed, but very nearly gagged on it. As the potion took effect, her eyes popped open. It felt almost as though her magic was sizzling in her body, though that was hardly possible, and then the sizzle passed through the magical bond to Severus. As it flowed back to her, it was cooler, and the flow between them was gentler than before. The pressure behind her eyes began to ease and she glanced over at Minerva, who looked very distressed. Poppy smiled at her, trying to reassure her friend, but then closed her eyes again to concentrate on Severus.

It seemed that the worst was over, and Poppy found herself becoming drowsy as the magic continued to flow from her into Severus and then back to her again, over and over again. She’d lost all sense of time when she heard Melina say, “All right, now. Time to close off the connection and finish with Poppy. You may touch Severus now, if you like, Minerva, but don’t go near the binding. It’s still active even though I stopped the flow.”

Poppy opened her eyes again and blinked. She could still feel Melina’s magic moving through her, but there was no more discomfort, not even the slightest prickling, though she felt utterly exhausted and completely limp.

Melina grinned down at her. “Still with us, Poppy?”

“Mmhm.” She swallowed, sighed, and closed her eyes again.

“I just have a couple more spells to cast, then a little more potion for you, just as a precautionary prophylactic, and a few diagnostics, then you’ll be done.”

With some effort, Poppy turned her head to watch Melina cast the final spells. “I feel done. Completely. Overdone, in fact.”

“You’ve done a good day’s work, then,” Melina said with a smile. “Here’s the potion. Just a few more drops.”

Poppy obediently opened her mouth for Melina to administer the potion one drop at a time. Its bitterness caused her to shudder and wrinkle her nose, and Melina laughed.

“It’s the same antivenin potion you’ve been giving Severus by the spoonful for the last week,” Melina said.

“My sympathy for him has doubled,” Poppy said, grimacing.

Melina patted her arm. “Your sympathy for him was wonderful, Poppy. The procedure went much faster than I’d anticipated. I’d expected it would take at least an hour longer than it did. You’re probably pretty tired now, but a good meal and a good night’s sleep, and you’ll be fine in the morning.”

“And Severus?” Poppy asked, turning her head to look at the wizard lying next to her. His cheeks already had a little colour to them. “He looks better.”

“It will take him a few days to fully recover. He’ll need a lot of rest, but he’s fine. Now I just need to check you over, make sure everything’s as expected.”

Poppy relaxed as Melina cast a diagnostic spell. “I’m starving,” Poppy said. “I’m sure we’ve long missed lunch, but I have no idea what time it is.”

“Close enough to call the next meal tea,” Minerva said as she stroked Severus’s forehead. “Why isn’t Severus waking up, too?”

“He’s been through a lot, Aunt Minerva,” Melina replied. She swished her wand and the bond between Poppy and Severus disappeared. “He’ll become more aware of things over the next few hours. We should make sure there’s someone with him continually until he’s completely awake.”

Poppy felt suddenly cold without the magical cord wrapped around her arm. She sat up and pushed herself off the table, holding onto the edge until she was certain that she wasn’t going to fall over.

“Were you going to contact Albus?” Poppy asked Minerva.

Minerva nodded, then cast her Patronus, which leapt cheerfully through the floor on its way to find Dumbledore.

“We’ll need to get him some fresh clothes, too,” Minerva observed. “A nightshirt, dressing gown, and a change of clothes for tomorrow. Once Albus is here, I’ll call Twiskett and have him gather a few things for Severus. I don’t think he appreciates wearing Albus’s red and gold striped nightshirts.”

Melina laughed.

“As for someone to stay with him, I can for some of the time,” Minerva continued, “but I know someone else who I believe would be happy to sit with him for a while, too. I’m sure you just want to eat something and get into your own bed, Poppy.”

“You’re right about that,” Poppy said, stifling a yawn.

Melina had packed away her potions and other paraphernalia, and now she was standing beside Severus, looking at him but not casting any spells. She took his right wrist in her hand, feeling his pulse, then nodded.

“He’ll probably begin to become more aware fairly soon,” Melina said. “Severus! Severus! Can you open your eyes for me?”

Severus’s head lolled toward her, and he muttered something unintelligible, but his eyes didn’t open.

“That’s okay, Severus,” Melina said, squeezing his hand. “You take your time. You’re in the Heart of Hogwarts now, but as soon as Albus arrives, we’ll be bringing you back to the infirmary where you can rest.”

“But Daddy said I could have a kitten,” Severus slurred. “He promised.”

Melina restrained a chuckle and patted his hand. “You just rest now, Severus. You’re a little confused now. You’ll feel more like yourself soon.”

“Mmm. I like ice cream.” Severus let out a sigh and seemed to relax.

“I will see about getting you a wee bowl of ice cream, then, Severus, when you’re well enough and the Healers say you can have some,” Minerva said. She patted his head, then turned to Melina and whispered, “What’s wrong with him?”

“Nothing. He’s just a little confused. Probably dreaming about something. I doubt he will have any recollection of anything that happened after he collapsed in the classroom up to the point when he finally wakes up and is fully conscious.”

“I’m going to go ask Blampa about organising a meal for us all up in my office. I’ll send Albus down when he gets here.” She started for the stairs, then stopped and turned towards Poppy. “And you look as though you should sit down, Poppy, or you’ll need a Mobilicorpus to get you out of here, too!”

Poppy laughed, but sank gratefully into one of the armchairs. Melina came over and sat beside her.

“So, would you have volunteered if you had known what you were in for?” Melina asked with a smile.

“Of course! It was very unpleasant, but I knew it would be over fairly shortly, and I did feel as though I should have done more to prevent his condition, insisted he not teach this morning. Besides, it was interesting. I’m glad I did it. I’ll probably be more glad in the morning, though. I’m getting a headache,” she said, rubbing her forehead.

“Lunch will fix that, and if you still have one after we’ve eaten, I’m sure we can scrounge some Headache Potion from somewhere!”

“Not the Erumpent horn!”

Both witches started as Severus suddenly spoke. He was quiet again, though, so they just shrugged.

“He must be hallucinating,” Poppy said.

“Mm, I’m not surprised. Shouldn’t be long, though, until he’s lucid again. A few hours, four or five at the most.”

The door above them opened, and Albus looked down at them through the opening in the wall.

“How is he?” he asked.

“He’s doing well,” Melina replied.

“Good! Very good indeed!” Albus turned and started down the stairs.

Melina and Poppy both stood as Albus entered the chamber. He went directly to the table and looked down at Severus. “He’s still unconscious?”

“Only semiconscious. More asleep than unconscious,” Melina said.

“He’s been a little . . . incoherent,” Poppy said. “So if he says something odd, don’t be startled.”

“Minerva said that the treatments worked,” Albus said.

Melina nodded. “He’ll recover perfectly now.”

“And how is our sympathetic?” Albus asked Poppy. “Are you feeling well, my dear? You look a bit peaked.”

Poppy smiled at him. “I’ll be fine, Albus. As I was telling Melina, it was quite an interesting experience. I’m just a little tired is all.”

Albus nodded, then looked down at Severus again. “Well, then, to get you back to the infirmary, my boy! Minerva’s arranging some lovely company for you, but I’ll sit with you until then.” He glanced over at Poppy. “I only had one class left today, so I cancelled it. I’m sure the fourth-years are all outdoors enjoying the lovely afternoon now.”

“Up to no good,” Severus suddenly said.

They all laughed, but Severus just sighed and didn’t wake up.

“So, the lift again?” Albus asked hopefully. He liked his gadgets, and he felt this one had been particularly ingenious. Pulleys were such great fun.

“No, magic is fine. We can just restore the charms on the stretcher, but if you could direct it, Albus, Poppy and I would be grateful. I’m sure Poppy’s even more tired than I am, and I’m pretty tired.”

“Certainly!” Albus said. “We’ll just do up his straps again, and we can all be on our way!” He flicked his wand and the straps buckled themselves around Severus.

“Did you have lunch?” Poppy asked as they headed toward the stairs, Melina first, then Severus floating on his stretcher, followed by Albus, then Poppy.

“I had a very quick bite between classes,” Albus replied. “I’ll be fine until dinner. That’s why I told Minerva I would sit with him whilst you three eat, then this evening, he’ll have other company.”

Melina nodded in approval. “That’s fine. I’ll pop over just before bedtime to check on him again, but if he’s coherent and resting easily, you can just have a house-elf on duty in the infirmary in case he needs anything during the night. I think he’ll have a very smooth recovery now.”



There was a bang and a flash, and Severus felt as though he would choke. He was scared, so scared, and the room was hot, burning hot, and his mother was angry again.

“Where did you get that?” she demanded.

“I bought it for Sammy on my way home from the mill, Eileen. He’d been looking at it for weeks—”

“He is not playing with Muggle toys! And his name is not ‘Sammy’!”

His mother snatched the little grey aeroplane from his small hands, threw it into the air, and it vanished with a flash. The explosion seemed to tear through Severus, running rivulets of hot lava through his veins.

“Eileen—”

“My father would have a fit if he saw the kinds of things you’re bringing home to Severus,” his mother hissed. “And don’t let him hear you call Severus by that other name again! I don’t know why I let you talk me into it, even as a middle name. At least it’s only on his Muggle birth certificate, not his wizarding registry of birth.”

Severus looked up at the spot where his aeroplane had disappeared, and tears welled up in his eyes. The fire of the explosion seemed to burn through him still. The aeroplane was gone, but the burning remained.

“Don’t cry there, now, Sam–, er, Sev. There’s a big boy, that’s my man! Big boys don’t cry in front of their mothers,” his father said, placing a gentle hand on his head.

“Big boys don’t cry like little Muggle girls,” his mother said in disgust. “Look at you, all dirty, the both of you. Go get cleaned up before Father arrives for dinner. Just because your father looks like a dirty Muggle doesn’t mean you should, Severus.”

His father reached down and picked him up, hoisting him over his shoulder like a sack, something that usually made him laugh and giggle and kick his feet. “Off we go, Sev, off to wash and get ready for tea!” He started up the stairs with him. “I’ll bring you to the airfield this weekend, Sev,” he whispered. “We’ll watch the real jet planes taking off.”

There was a roar, and he was on a jet plane, or no, he wasn’t on a jet. He was so confused. It was stil hot, burning hot, and his sheets were wrapped too tightly around him. He couldn’t move. “Daddy! Daddy!” But his father wasn’t there. He had the mumps, that was it, the mumps like a common Muggle, his grandfather had said. Muggle mumps. But he would have ice cream when he was well, and a kitten, too, his daddy had promised. Daddy’s a dirty Muggle. “Daddy!”

There was a cool hand on his forehead, but his father wasn’t there. He tried to turn, but Grandfather must be punishing him again. He couldn’t move. “Petrificus totalus!” He’d remember that one, and when he got older, he’d do it, he’d do it to Grandfather. He’d show him he wasn’t a dirty little Muggle. He would do magic, he would do it better than Grandfather. He’d show him!

Who was there? Someone, someone kind . . . not his father, though. He felt magic around him. He was losing his magic. He remembered now. He was losing his magic. The snake ate the kitten and he was losing his magic. He was burning in a fire, he was being punished, punished for . . . he couldn’t remember. But there was something else, something was nice. There was something else besides the fire. Maybe it was Lily. She wasn’t a dirty Muggle. She was a witch, magic like him. His grandfather had called her a Mudblood. Someday he would teach his grandfather not to say things like that about her. “A Mudblood or a half-blood bastard,” he’d said, then he’d looked at Severus and repeated, “half-blood bastard,” before turning away.

The fires still raged in him, and he remembered burning, burning as he carried another boy in his arms, a little wizard child. Carrying him through a fire. He burned. A leopard doesn’t change its spots. And he burned still. He was evil, evil, and he burned, losing his magic in a fire, his magic burning away.

Ice cream would be nice. So nice and cold. His father had brought him ice cream. That had been a long time ago. He remembered that there was a nice witch, though, a good witch, he heard her voice now. The nice witch might give him ice cream if he was good. He’d be good, a good wizard.

He was cold now, cold and hot at the same time. Where was he? Nothing made sense. A potion, he heard someone say there was a potion. His potion? One he had brewed? He couldn’t remember. If he could only think . . . but strange sensations overcame him, pinching, cramping, stinging, stretching, itching, but it wasn’t burning any longer. The fire was being quenched. No more fire. Now there was movement, swaying and bouncing . . . not an aeroplane, though. No, no jet planes, though there was a roar and a flash of green. Green flashes, Avada kedavra, and they were dead, as dead as the dried up flies on his sooty windowsill at Spinner’s End.

But he wasn’t in his bedroom, he was at school, he was at Hogwarts, he was sure of it now. He could hear Professor Flitwick. He had Charms with Professor Flitwick. He had to do well in Charms. It had been one of his mother’s best subjects. All Princes excelled at Charms, his grandfather had told him. Charms was useful in the study of the Dark Arts, he’d said, and all Princes were good at that, too. If he were a real Prince, he’d do well at Charms, but he was a half-blood Prince.

Professor Flitwick was nice, and Charms was a good class, Severus decided. It was nice. Light and warm, but not too hot, not burning like the fire. He was confused. He couldn’t be in Charms, it seemed to him. There were other people around, people who cared about him. He relaxed. It was all right. Was his father there too? No, this was Hogwarts, his father couldn’t be there. His grandfather . . . no, the old man was dead, and he'd never please him now. Professor Dumbledore . . . Professor Dumbledore was there. And he’d never please him, either. Never. Dumbledore was a Muggle-lover but he couldn’t love a half-blood Prince. Sneaks and cheats and terrors like Potter and Black and Lupin, Dumbledore loved them, but not him, not even when he . . . when he . . . what had he done? He couldn’t remember. But he could feel that there were people there who loved him, and Dumbledore was there with them, too. And now his magic, could he feel his own magic, was his magic coming back or had it all burned away?

More voices . . . so many people now. Was that his grandmother? She was worried . . . worried about him . . . but no, she was dead. And a Muggle. She couldn’t be there. She was dead and he couldn’t even remember what she looked like, only her eyes. Dark eyes, only her dark eyes . . .

“She’s dead because of you, Eileen! You, keeping her baby boy from her, keeping her little Sammy from her, telling me not to see her, and I listened to you! And now she’s dead, dead of a broken heart! You’re an unnatural freak! No wonder you all stay hidden! Nasty freaks, the lot of you!” His father was drunk and his grandmother was dead and his mother was frightened, frightened just this once, frightened of her angry Muggle husband, but when he threw the empty bottle and it seemed to explode as it hit the wall behind her, she stood straighter, a look of contempt on her face. Then he hit her, hit her hard across the face. Severus stayed hidden under the kitchen table, covering his eyes as he heard his father’s body crash against a cupboard . . . crashing, crashing, falling . . . his head hurt, and he wanted to cry, but he could not cry. Wizards don’t cry. There was pain, but no burning, no burning any longer, but now someone was plucking at him, pulling at his magic. His magic was vanishing, vanishing, he’d be a dirty Muggle like his pathetic father. His magic . . . the only thing he had . . .

“No!” he tried to shout, and he tried again. “No!” Someone plucking at him like the strings of the fiddle his father had brought him and his grandfather had disintegrated. It hurt, it hurt to lose his magic, to have someone pulling at it, taking it away a little at a time. He wanted to struggle against it, but he couldn’t. He tried to move, to shout, to pull away, but the plucking continued. A nightmare, it was all a nightmare, just a dream, and someone had once told him that he could control his dreams, someone who cared about him, a good, wise witch, Minerva, Minerva had told him. That’s why he couldn’t move, he was dreaming, and yet he couldn’t wake up and he still felt the plucking at his magic, and that felt real.

No, he was fine, he was fit, fit as a fiddle, fitter . . . he would be all right, Minerva said so. He heard her talking to him, and he trusted her. She loved him, he thought, and she wouldn’t lie to him about it. He would be all right. Just a little more to go, just a little more, she said, and he’d be fine. The plucking stopped, and it seemed he really might be fine, but he still couldn’t wake up. Perhaps he had died.

Then he felt magic flowing into him, healing, warm, liquid magic, washing away the last of the Dark snake, the last of the poison left him by his Dark master, whom he had betrayed, and he felt someone there beside him, someone whose magic was cleansing him, the remnants of Darkness leaving him, and her pure, light magic entering him and strengthening him. Another kind, good witch, someone who didn’t think he was a nasty snake or a dirty half-blood, someone who cared about him. He could hear someone else chanting, and he knew he was being Healed, that he would be well. He’d been a good boy, and he would get better. And he might get a kitten if he was good, and Daddy would bring him ice cream when he was over the mumps. Ice cream, he liked ice cream . . . but now, now, he would just sleep.



“Yes, we’ll be fine, Minerva! I’ll call Wilspy or Blampa if we need anything,” Albus said softly, smiling up at her. “You have something to eat with the others, then go do what you need to do. I know that the first day of the school year is normally very busy even without medical emergencies and disrupted class schedules.”

“All right, thank you, Albus.” Minerva leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I need to see how classes went, check in with Filius and Pomona, and talk to Sharon Carter. Then I need to find out if Olivia Ouellette would mind seeing to Slytherin House this evening, and ask her to take Severus’s rounds. I’ll offer to meet together with her and the Slytherin prefects. I have to make an announcement at dinner about tomorrow’s Potions classes, too.”

“Very good, my dear! You know that I’m at your disposal!”

“Do you suppose you could take Potions tomorrow? And for the next few days until Severus can teach again?”

“Of course, but who will you have take Defence?”

“I’ll do that. It would save having to find anyone else on such short notice, I am very familiar with your lesson plans, and it’s only for a few days,” Minerva said briskly. “Thank you, Albus! I’ll stop back after dinner. I’m sending Poppy to bed after she eats, but if Severus seems unwell, send one of the house-elves to fetch her. She’ll come.”

“I will call her if necessary, but you need to go eat, yourself. You look stretched thin.”

“Hardly, but I am hungry! See you later.” She bent and gave him another quick peck on the cheek, then hurried from the infirmary for her office, where Melina and Poppy were already enjoying their meal.

Albus looked over at Severus, whose eyes were still closed, but who now seemed more genuinely asleep, rather than unconscious. Albus stood and stepped up to the bed, then he reached over and touched the other wizard’s hand. He smiled. Severus’s magic felt strong now, and it thrummed evenly beneath his fingers. Severus sighed and stirred in his sleep.

“Ah, Severus, my boy,” he said softly, “will I ever be able to stop worrying about you?”

Severus shifted and turned his head; his eyes blinked, then closed.

“Are you awake yet, Severus?”

“Mm, Professor? Professor Dumbledore,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry. Didn’t want to . . . don’t know . . .”

“Yes, it’s Albus! I don’t think you have anything to be sorry about. You just rest. Would you like some dinner?”

“Pr’fessor . . . hates me. Why does he hate me . . .” Severus whimpered and twisted beneath his sheet. He clearly was not fully awake yet.

“Severus? Severus, wake up, my boy. It’s Albus here. I don’t hate you. You know I don’t hate you! I’m very proud of you. You’re still dreaming.” He caressed Severus’s forehead.

Severus’s eyes opened. He looked up at Albus and blinked. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the Hogwarts infirmary. You were very sick today, but you’ll be all right now.”

“There were other people here,” Severus said. “I heard other people.”

“Yes, but they had to get something to eat and get some rest. Minerva was with you, too, but it’s the first day of school, so she has a lot to do. I’m sure she’ll be back later, though.”

“Mmm.” Severus closed his eyes and sighed.

“Are you hungry? Would you like me to call for some food for you?”

Severus shook his head slightly, his eyes closed.

“Do you need anything?”

He shook his head again. “Sleep.”

“All right, my boy. You sleep.” Albus patted his shoulder. “There will be someone here when you wake up again.”

Severus opened his eyes. “Was there a jet plane?”

Albus looked surprised. “A jet? No, there was no jet, no aeroplane.”

“Oh.” Severus seemed to think about that. “I thought . . . I thought I was with my father, and there was a plane. It’s confusing.”

Albus nodded. “I’m sure it is. But after you’ve rested, it will be less confusing.”

“Are you staying?”

“Of course, son, I’ll stay,” Albus said softly. “As long as you like.”

Severus closed his eyes. “Still no kitten,” he mumbled as he fell back to sleep.

Albus smiled and settled back into his chair.



Minerva came in quietly, and Albus looked up at her and smiled.

“How is he?” she asked.

“He woke up briefly, but he was still very confused,” he whispered. “I offered him something to eat, but he just wanted to sleep.”

“That’s fine.” She held up a small container. “I did bring him some ice cream, though. He was asking for it earlier. Or at least, he mentioned it. I don’t know if he’ll want it, but I thought I’d bring it.”

“How is everything else?”

“The day went fairly smoothly, fortunately—although Laura had to give Suzie Sefton a potion this afternoon because she ate something that didn’t agree with her. Fortunately, as a mother, Laura’s had experience with such things. She also told Suzie that just because an older student in her House offers her a sweet, it doesn’t mean she has to eat it.”

“Did Laura think the other student intentionally made her sick?”

Minerva shrugged. “She thought it was possible, though Draco said that it was just an ordinary buzzing humbug from Honeyduke’s. Droobleberry flavoured.”

“Malfoy gave her the sweet?” Albus asked suspiciously.

“No, Malfoy was looking for Poppy and found Laura. He’s apparently decided to look after the new Muggle-born in his House. Laura said that Draco didn’t even blink when the girl vomited all over his robes after she’d given her the first dose of potion.”

“I suppose that at my age, nothing should surprise, but . . .”

“Anyway, other than the two sick Slytherins, it was a very smooth start to the year,” Minerva said. She looked over at Severus. “I’m thinking about our own sick Slytherin at the moment. Do you think I should wake him? See if he’d like his ice cream? Gareth and Hermione will be up in a little while, too.”

“Yes, why don’t you. And if he doesn’t feel like eating, we could get him some nutritional potion. I don’t think he’s eaten at all today.”

Minerva moved closer to the bed and spoke more loudly. “Severus, Severus, it’s Minerva.” She touched his arm lightly. “I brought you something. Would you like to wake up for us?”

Severus took in a deep breath and opened his eyes. He looked up at Minerva and yawned. “What time is it? Am I late?”

“No, you’re not late for anything. I brought you some ice cream.”

“Ice cream?” Severus seemed to wake up a bit more. “I’ve been sick.”

“Yes, you have been, but you’re getting better.”

“But not the mumps.”

“No, not the mumps,” Minerva replied with a slight laugh.

“But you brought me ice cream?” He sounded hopeful.

“I did.” She held up the container. “It’s just plain vanilla, but it’s good. Do you want it?”

“Yes, please,” Severus said, trying to sit up.

Albus, watching from his chair, flicked his wand and the head of the bed rose.

Minerva took the lid off the container and conjured a spoon. “There you go, Severus! Do you need any help with it?”

He shook his head and took the ice cream. He looked at it and then up at Minerva. “It’s all mine?”

Minerva seemed a bit puzzled, but she nodded. “Yes, it’s all yours. I had my dinner earlier.”

Severus started to take a spoonful, but he paused with it halfway to his mouth. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Severus.” After he had had a few mouthfuls of ice cream, she asked, “How are you feeling?”

He swallowed his ice cream and thought a moment. “Tired. And I have a headache.”

“Would you like a potion for your headache, my boy?” Albus asked from the corner.

Severus took more ice cream and shook his head, seeming to notice Albus for the first time. When he’d swallowed, he said, “No, thanks.”

Minerva waved her wand and conjured a straight-back chair for herself and watched for awhile as Severus ate his ice cream. “Do you remember what happened this morning?” She was concerned that he still didn’t seem entirely lucid, though he was clearly better than he had been.

“This morning . . .” Severus paused. “Potions . . . I was teaching Potions,” he said. His eyes seemed to clear. “I was teaching, and I didn’t feel well, but I thought I’d be all right until I saw Madam Pomfrey later. But then . . .” He closed his eyes and sighed slightly. “Madam Pomfrey must be . . . upset with me. She didn’t want me to teach this morning.”

“Poppy’s more upset with herself that she didn’t keep you from teaching,” Minerva said, “but she’s glad that you’re now on the mend. And the good news is that Melina did the procedures today that she’d been going to perform on Friday, so your recovery is actually a few days ahead!” She tried to sound cheerful about that and not think about the scare he’d given them all and how sick he had been when he’d arrived in the infirmary.

Severus set down the container of ice cream on the edge of the bed, and Minerva took it for him. “I don’t remember very much,” he said. “How did I get here?”

“Twiskett brought you.”

“Twiskett . . . My class—what happened with the class? All of my classes?”

“Jamie Brett gave the sixth-years an essay assignment based on the material you had already covered,” Albus said with a grin, “and the other classes were lucky enough to be cancelled.”

“Yes, it was the sixth-year class.” Severus closed his eyes and groaned. “That must have made a wonderful impression.”

“I think they were quite worried about you,” Albus replied. “And they all did Mr Brett’s essay assignment. You have a pile of parchments waiting for you. On the topic of the effect of ingredient preparation on potions brewing, or something equally broad but interesting to consider.”

“Lovely.”

“You have more visitors coming, Severus,” Minerva said. “Did you want the rest of your ice cream? Or something else to eat?”

“No. I’m tired.”

“I’m not surprised,” Minerva said. “I’ll fetch you a nutritional potion, then. You just close your eyes and rest.”

When Minerva had left, Severus turned his head and looked at Albus. “You were here earlier.”

“Yes. I’ve been here for a while.”

Severus nodded and closed his eyes again.

“Here we are, Severus,” Minerva said as she returned. “Vanilla nutritional potion. Perhaps not as tasty as the ice cream, but it won’t clash!”

“Thank you.” He drank down the potion. “You said something about visitors.” He looked unhappy.

“Yes, just a couple people who would like to keep you company for a little while. It will give you a break from us staid old teachers,” Minerva joked.

Severus was about to respond that he didn’t want any visitors when the infirmary door opened and a curly head peeked around the corner.

“May we come in?”

“Of course, Miss Granger! Is my nephew with you?”

“Naturally, Aunt Minerva,” Gareth said as he came through the door. “Have to look after my new apprentice, you know, make sure she got here safely!”

“Well, we’ll leave you young people to entertain Severus,” Albus said, standing.

“Just don’t tire him too much,” Minerva said softly.

“We won’t,” Hermione replied.

“Albus,” Severus said, his voice slightly hoarse.

Albus turned toward him. “Yes?”

“Um . . . you’ll be back later.”

“Of course.”

Severus nodded as though it didn’t matter, but Albus smiled brightly and followed Minerva out of the infirmary.



NEXT
Chapter Fifteen: Bacon Butties and Baked Beans
Tuesday, 1 September 1998
Severus begins his recovery and has visitors—and an unusual craving.
Characters: Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Hermione Granger, Gareth McGonagall, Wilspy




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A Long Vernal Season by MMADfan

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