The three Gryffindors talked quietly, mindful of the huddled figure on the seat. It was unclear if Severus was sleeping or unconscious, but they were loath to disturb him either way. Medical attention was nowhere in sight, and he needed rest above all else. It was also difficult to gauge the extent of his injuries, and what damage that prolonged exposure to the Cruciatus Curse may have caused.
Remus and Sirius discussed the good old Marauder days with James and Peter, trying to reconcile it with the betrayal of their good friend and the death of another. The talk seemed to do Sirius a world of good as he realized that there was very little sign of Peter's true allegiance. “I have to tell you something, Moony,” he said, looking shamefaced. “It was the Shrieking Shack incident that led me to give up my role as Secret Keeper. Peter pointed out that I had foolishly endangered you as well as Snape, and I didn't want such a massive responsibility on my shoulders once more. I didn't even see how thoroughly he had manipulated me, until Voldemort had already struck. I've had twelve long years to think about it, and I'm still not sure exactly why he turned against us. I mean, I have a few ideas, but I just can't understand it in my gut.”
Remus looked at him sharply. “Is that part of the reason you hate Snape so much? Perhaps you blame him for your choice to replace yourself with Peter as Secret Keeper. That's hardly fair to him, and to James. In the end, it was James' choice. Tonight Harry avenged his father's death, and while I wish Peter had sided with us, he made his choice and gave his life for it. There's no further need to berate yourself over it.”
Sirius gave a somewhat watery smile, squeezing Lupin's hand and groping for Harry's. “I know I really don't deserve it… but I'm damned lucky to have friends like you. It feels as if the Marauders aren't really gone. With Harry here, perhaps we can keep the group alive.”
Harry squeezed the hand in his grasp. “I'd be honored to be a Marauder.”
Remus looked pleased with the exchange, but the smile faded from his face as a sobering thought struck. “Harry, I hope that Professor Snape didn't hurt your feelings too badly. He rarely has a good word to say about anyone, even the ones that he cares for. I don't think he's really learned the art of tact. Plus I think he'd choke on the words if he ever had to compliment anyone.”
Harry looked thoughtful. “It does hurt a bit, but not as much as I thought it would. Snape doesn't know me well enough to judge me properly. I've thought for awhile that he has a blind spot when it comes to Gryffindors, and the name Potter in particular. He may not think much of my actions, but he doesn't know my reasoning behind them. I suppose I can forgive him for it – after all, I judged him pretty harshly for years. I never tried to understand his actions until recently. I think with a little more training, I can prove to him that I'm not just some foolish Gryffindor.”
“I'm proud of you, Harry. That's a very mature observation.” Lupin glanced at the huddled form across the small compartment. “Sirius and I have each other. You have your friends Ron and Hermione. But Severus has practically no one. He's succeeded in pushing away everyone around him, and now he has what he wanted. He is alone in the world, and I can't help but wonder if he doesn't get lonely sometimes.”
Harry didn't quite know what to say to that. As pondered this new concept, he felt a giant yawn threaten to crack his jaw apart. “I'll second that,” Sirius murmured, already wrapping himself in his cloak. “Harry, you take the other seat. I'm fine right here.” His sentence was barely out before soft snores filled the air.
Remus chuckled. “Padfoot always did have a talent for sleeping through anything. Still, sleep sounds like a heavenly idea. We all could use some rest – we're going to need all the strength we've got to get back to Hogwarts in one piece.” And, for a time, there was nothing but the sound of deep breathing and the occasional snore or mutter.
* * * * *
Harry jerked violently out of sleep, startled and disoriented. He hadn't been having a particularly pleasant dream, and his mind was a bit clouded as his eyes darted frantically, seeking to identify his surroundings. He relaxed slightly as the memories returned to him. The train, Lupin, Black… he was safe. Then a noise caught his ear, and he realized that it wasn't the nightmare at all that woke him. He stiffened once more, focusing on the sound. There it was again, it was a… whimper?
He listened in mute horror as the whimper transmuted into a full-throated scream. The abrupt noise startled Lupin from his slumber, as he jerked his head up and blinked owlishly. Black jumped and fell from his precariously slumped position, falling to the floor with a thud. He grumbled crossly, rubbing his sore posterior. A second scream brought him back to the situation at hand. Everything suddenly snapped into focus. “Professor!” Harry exclaimed, hurrying over to the thrashing figure. He touched the man's shoulder timidly, unsure of what to do.
In a flash, Lupin was by his side, looking Snape over with a critical eye. “Wake up, Severus!” he said firmly, shaking him as gently as possible. “It's just a nightmare. Wake up!”
Eyes snapped open, but they held no recognition, no clarity. Inky-black orbs stared unseeing at the ceiling. “No!” A soft moan tore from his lips. “Stop! No more!”
Sirius frowned from the other side of the compartment. “What's wrong with him?”
Remus put his hand on the pale, sweating forehead. A deep line appeared between his eyes, reflecting his concern. “He's feverish. Whatever ails him is causing him to become delusional. There's really not much difference between when he's awake and when he's asleep.” He winced at a low, despairing cry.
At Lupin's approving nod, Black pulled out his wand and placed a Silencing Charm on the compartment. It was a real risk to use magic and attract attention from any Death Eaters, but the screaming could summon nosy, interfering Muggles, and that was something they certainly did not need.
Snape stared up at Lupin, looking right through him. “You can't punish me, Father, you can't! I've done nothing wrong!!” His plaintive tone caused the trio to wince. Harry stared at his feet, wishing he was anywhere but here. It wasn't right for him to hear the uncontrolled ramblings of such a private man.
Lupin knelt, loosening the ill man's clothing as gently as he could, Snape's earlier reaction still fresh in his mind. “Padfoot, fetch some damp paper towels from the lavatory. Harry, see if there's anything in Professor Snape's potions case that will help him.”
Harry poked through the case as Sirius hastened out of the room, no doubt relieved to escape the oppressive atmosphere. He did his best to shut out the sounds of misery as he picked through the assorted bottles and vials. Most were labeled, and he warily avoided those that were not. There was undoubtedly a reason that Snape did not want these potions to be identified. Finally he gave up with a sigh. “Sorry, Professor, there isn't much here to work with. There's Dreamless Sleep, but I don't it should be taken with a fever. There's still one more vial of Healing Potion. I don't think this one's been tampered with.”
“Hold it up.” Lupin eyed the meager contents of the bottle. “We'd best save it for tomorrow, when the train arrives at King's Cross. Severus will need every ounce of it to make it off the train.”
Black returned with a pile of damp paper towels in his hand. Remus took one and began to mop the pale brow, waiting for his patient to stop flinching from his touch. His look of sympathy was mirrored by Harry's own, and even Sirius looked rather grim. “I guess he doesn't like to be touched for a reason.” Harry took the clammy hand hesitantly in his own.
The huddled, sweating form took no notice of his surroundings, his head turning restlessly, as if searching for something. “Maman! Maman, où êtes-vous? Je me suis perdu, et il fait froid. Il est très noir, je ne vois rien! Maman?”
“Is that French?” Harry took another wet towel and began dabbing at the small slices of flesh that were visible of Snape's neck and chest. “What is he saying?”
Sirius shrugged, looking at Lupin for explanation. The ex-professor obliged them. “It is French, but I never learned much of the language. I think he's recalling a memory of being lost and calling for his mother. I gather she didn't find him for a long time.” A light of recognition began to dawn in his eyes. “This makes a lot more sense now! I think I remember hearing somewhere that Snape's mother is from the Rogue family. That would certainly explain how he learned French.”
Sirius broke in, “That greasy git, a Rogue? You must be joking! The Rogue family is one of the most established families of noble breeding in all of France! If he were related to the Rogues, you can bet he'd play it for all he's worth, like the Malfoys.”
Harry did not look up from his ministrations. “Maybe he didn't want people to know. He doesn't seem to like anyone knowing anything about his personal life.”
“True enough,” Lupin agreed, moving to change the dressing on a wound that was seeping rather ominously. “Severus never liked to talk about himself when we were in school. The Rogues and Snapes are both very powerful pureblood families. I wouldn't be surprised if there was an arranged marriage involved with his parents. Such unions are rarely happy ones.”
Harry locked eyes with his former professor. “I wonder what Draco's home life is like,” he said quietly. “If his father is half as cruel as Snape's must have been, it may explain why he's so horrid.”
“You never seem to amaze me, Harry,” Lupin beamed at him. “It is not an excuse for Draco's behavior, but it is important to understand what he must go through and what pressures may influence him. Knowing this may make it easier to deal with his kind. Compassion goes a long way, Harry, even if the target does not seem to appreciate it.”
“How is he?” Sirius inquired gruffly, trying to squelch the feeling of guilt that was creeping up on him. What did he know of the concoction he had slipped to Snape? That could be the very reason the git had taken such a bad turn. As much as he loathed the man, they needed all members in top form, and the slimy Slytherin did help Harry to get out of a bad spot….
“Not so good.” Lupin fretted over another open wound. “His fever isn't breaking fast enough. There's no way we can get him the medical treatment he needs. I just hope we can keep his illness under control until we get to safety.” He resolutely ignored the near-incoherent mumblings of his patient.
Harry tried to recall what little he knew of Muggle first aid. It was the best hope they had right now of healing the Potions Master. He reached out to feel for the pulse and jumped in shock as a bony yet powerful hand closed over his wrist. A squeak came from the boy's mouth. Snape lifted his head, his intense gaze boring holes into Harry's head. “Albus, the Potters! The Potters are in danger! Voldemort will strike them next… you must warn them… find need a Secret Keeper... choose wisely… keep them safe….” The coal-black eyes closed, and his head fell back against the seat as if the strings of a puppet had been cut. That last memory/delusion seemed to have drained him of his remaining strength. Other than the occasional cry or murmur, there was silence.
The three Gryffindors groped for something, anything to say. “It was him,” Black finally rasped. “He was the spy who tipped off Albus that Lilly and James were in danger. He risked his life to save them, and I ruined the sacrifice… I allowed Pettigrew to sway me and put their lives in his hands. No wonder he thought I was a murderer. He's not far wrong. How could I have been so blind? Tonight he risked his life again to save Harry, and I didn't even see it, couldn't believe that he could be selfless.” He stared with a mixture of horror and guilt at the slashed-open Dark Mark on Snape's pale arm, exposed to the air for the first time in decades. Rather than a symbol of evil, it seemed to him to be a badge of sacrifice. Snape was prepared to risk everything to bring down his former master. Could Black do any less?
“I thought he hated my father,” Harry said dully, massaging his wrist where the strong grip had left marks. “Maybe he tried to save my parents because of the debt he owed. But he still hasn't stopped looking after me, as much as he seems to despise the Potters. I don't think I'll ever understand him, but I can at least try to treat him with a bit more respect, and see that others do as well. The reputation of the Boy Who Lived has to be good for something, after all.”
Lupin tucked in the edges of Snape's voluminous robe around the comatose figure. “It's good to know that he has a champion in you, Harry. And Sirius, I doubt there will ever be more than animosity between you, but I hope that you can at least ease up on him a bit in the future. He's got enough on his mind without any of us making it worse.” Black looked more than sufficiently abashed. He doubted he could ever bring himself to say the words, nor would Snape believe them, but deep inside a pervasive feeling of shame was taking root.
“I think he's worn himself out,” Lupin said softly. “We'd all best get some shut-eye while things are quiet. However, I'm afraid to leave Severus unattended. We'd best take turns looking after him.”
“He'd hate being coddled like this,” a slight smirk twitched at Black's lips, “but it's not as if he's in a position to argue.” Checking one last time to make sure that the ill man was comfortable, Lupin assumed a rather uncomfortable perch nearby to begin the first watch. Exhaustion claimed the others immediately.
The strong sunlight woke them hours later. A quick glance out the window revealed that they were quite close to King's Cross. Black stretched, trying to work the kinks out of his back after his turn watching over Snape. He still hated the man – there was a part of him that couldn't help that, the sensation had been a part of him for so long – but now at least he had a sense of the person lurking behind the cold mask and sharp tongue. Snape wasn't the inhuman monster that Black had always imagined him to be, and he wasn't quite sure how to take that realization.
Harry smiled ruefully as his stomach gurgled. “Guess I'd better see about getting something to eat.” He pulled out a sizeable billfold. “Good thing I managed to get a bit of money converted to pounds, back when I though I'd have to go back to the Dursleys.” Unfortunately, he produced only a few small bills and coins – the rest of his stash was wizard currency. “I should be able to get us all something small. Be right back!” He wisely shed his outer robe to avoid curious stares, heading for the dining car clad in his rumpled sweater and slacks.
Once Harry had departed, Lupin and Black turned their attention to Snape, who had begun to stir. Remus knelt beside him and spoke. “Severus, wake up. Do you know who we are? Do you recall what happened?” There was only a low mutter as Snape turned his head away, saying something about Potions finals. It wasn't clear if he was referring to taking them as a student or administering them as a professor. Black approached with the remnants of the Healing Potion. Lupin tried to coax the pale man to drink. “Come now, Severus, it's one of yours. It hasn't been tampered with, I promise you. Drink it, please, you need to get well.” He tried to gently turn Snape's head, who whimpered and pulled away.
Black couldn't stand the worried, near-desperate look in Lupin's eyes. He snatched the bottle, bending over Snape, and grabbed a fistful of his shirt, pulling the pale man up to face him, glaring at the unfocused eyes. “Listen, boy,” he snarled, “you take your medicine and stop giving your mother trouble, or I'll give you a beating you'll never forget!” The horrified gasp, combined with the look of terror in the normally guarded black eyes, was enough to twist at even Black's heart. He squelched the feeling and quickly dumped the contents of the vial down Snape's throat, holding his hand over the man's nose and mouth, withholding oxygen until he was certain that the entire potion had been swallowed. Only then did he let go, meeting Remus' look of horror with one of guilt.
“Gods, Moony, don't look at me like that!” he cried. “I didn't enjoy that one bit, and believe me, I know that it was low of me to use Snape's fears against him. But it was the only thing I could think of to get him to take that damn potion!”
Harry's return bearing sustenance was enough to settle the topic, for the moment. The boy wore a look of confusion as his gaze darted from Black, to Lupin, to Snape. He could sense tension in the atmosphere but could not fathom what had transpired during his absence. The incident was forgotten, for the moment, as they all tucked in hungrily, devouring the scones and apple juice as if they had not eaten for days.
They paused in their chewing as the dark figure on the bench stirred and began to rise shakily. Remus was by his side in an instant, feeling his forehead. “Take it easy, Severus, you're still rather feverish. Lie down and rest awhile.”
“Can't.” Lupin was flummoxed to see a faint pink tinge on the man's cheeks. “Need… need to use the loo.” Snape grimaced and glared fiercely at his shoes. Having to ask for help in such a private task was nothing short of degrading! He'd never have even mentioned the problem if his back teeth hadn't been floating. If he left it for much longer, he'd have a serious problem on his hands. Already his bladder was screaming at him to get up and do something to relieve it.
“Ah,” Remus replied simply. “I'd best accompany you to make sure you don't fall along the way.” To Snape's disgust, an arm wound its way around his shoulders, supporting him as he made his way, shuffling and weak and hesitant, down the hall to the lavatory.
Sirius suddenly had a mental image that caused him to guffaw out loud, a rather absurd sound of amusement. Harry jerked his head up in surprise. Black explained, “I just had the most bizarre mental image of Remus trying to help ol' Snape in the loo!”
Harry giggled. “I'm sure that Snape would force him to wait outside, but it would be really funny if he needed help! Boy, I'd love to have blackmail pictures of that! Perhaps you should have packed a bedpan!” He suddenly wished for Colin's irritatingly omnipresent camera. Where was the blasted thing when he needed it?
Snickers greeted the two on their return from their quick sojourn. Snape gave them an evil glare, but his illness had diminished its usual quelling power – that, and he was still leaning heavily on the blasted werewolf's shoulder. He thanked him for his troubles with a deep scowl. Remus smiled cheerfully in return. “You'd best eat something, we're almost there.”
Snape accepted an apple juice with shaking hands, drinking it in small, measured sips. He outright refused the scone, knowing that he would never be able to eat it after all the stress his nervous stomach had been subjected to. Lupin decided to save it for a future meal, since they would be hard up for food later on. The next half-hour was spent on making themselves presentable-looking to disembark. Black collected everyone's robes, knowing how strange they would look in the Muggle world. Despite their snickering over the loo, no one was foolish enough to refuse a quick pit stop before leaving the train.
Exiting the train was a messier affair than anticipated. Snape was weak and unsteady on his feet, and it was an arduous task helping him down the stairs. Lupin held him upright, but he stumbled and fell face-forward. Only Black's quick reflexes saved him from a broken nose. Snape gave the animagus a weary glare, and Black responded with a sneer as he supported the limp weight until Lupin and Harry could finish making their way to the platform. Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, the two men balanced Snape between them, while Harry walked in front, trying to block curious stares. A strange frisson passed through all of them, and even Snape picked his head up slightly to look around him. King's Cross station brought back a lot of memories for all of them. It was a bizarre meeting of worlds, the place that heralded the beginning and end of each school year, and the adventures to be had. Each privately wished to have more time to wander, to remember, even if for just a moment.
Black was relieved when they reached the barrier to Platform 9 ¾. His face was as well-known here as it was in the Wizarding world, due to the Ministry's manhunt after his escape from Azkaban, and although his name had been cleared, he still got the most awful stares. He had kept his head down the entire time to avoid unwanted attention. Getting a weakened Snape through the barrier proved to be mercifully easier than anticipated. It wasn't until they were on the other side that Harry paused to think. “How are we getting back to Hogwarts? Surely the Hogwarts Express doesn't run all the time.” The fact that they were utterly alone on the platform was a telling clue.
Black explained as he had Lupin lowered the professor to an empty bench and donned their robes once more, “There is an unmanned car that runs between here and Hogwarts on occasion. There was very little call for it until recently, when the Order reactivated it for missions that required travel without magic. Few know about its existence, and Dumbledore himself has placed protective wards on it.” Lupin busied himself by tapping his wand in a certain pattern on the wall, summoning the car. “Now we just have to wait. With luck, it should be here within the hour.”
By the time the car arrived, Snape was clearly the worse for wear. His head rested upon Lupin's shoulder, seemingly too sickly to even raise a fuss about it. He didn't even raise a murmur of protest when the two men fairly carried him into the car. The ride was uneventful but tense, as the Potions Master's condition steadily worsened. He slipped into unconsciousness and would not wake, and his breathing became irregular and raspy. His temperature climbed steadily, and his thin frame was alternately seized by sweats and chills. The ride was faster than that of the Hogwarts Express, due to the car's smaller size and cargo, but the journey still seemed to last an eternity. The others were ravenous and divided the remaining scone between them, casting worried glances at Snape. He was the one that needed to eat the most. By the time the train arrived, they were afraid to move Severus at all. His face had taken on a waxy coloring, and his hands were clammy and bloodless. It was quite cramped in the single horseless carriage leading back to Hogwarts, but the trio did their best to make their patient as comfortable as possible by draping him over their laps and stirring up small breezes to cool him.
There was a massive stir in Hogwarts as the main doors were flung open to admit a very bedraggled and exhausted Harry Potter. Classes had just let out, and the hallways were packed with students and professors, all immediately surrounding Harry, chattering excitedly and touching him as if they were not certain he was real. Rom burst through the crowd and hugged his friend fiercely. “Harry, we've all be scared out of our minds! We hadn't heard from you in days! We were afraid you were dead!” He stepped back just in time for Hermione to launch herself at Harry. Professor McGonagall came up behind Harry and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It's good to have you back, Mister Potter.” A slight smile of relief tinged her usually stern expression.
The doors burst open again to admit a bone-weary Sirius Black. The assembled group fell silent, staring at the abrupt entrance of the former convict. On his heels followed their beloved ex-Professor Lupin, carrying a deathly ill Snape. “Oh, merciful gods!” McGonagall exclaimed as she beheld her stricken colleague. “Quickly, we must get him to the hospital wing!”
From seemingly out of nowhere, Dumbledore appeared and took the ill man from Lupin's arms, hefting him effortlessly. The entire school goggled as one, shocked into silence by the sight of their most reviled professor brought low and cradled in the arms of their revered Headmaster. Poppy Pomfrey hastened over and began giving her patient a quick once-over as Dumbledore whisked him away to the hospital wing, the other three Gryffindors following submissively after a commanding glare from the nurse.
The Slytherins followed at a subtle distance, worry and confusion written on their expressions. They were a close-knit group, and despite their mentor's prickly demeanor, they held him in the highest regard. What in the name of Merlin had struck down their Head of House? And how was Harry Potter involved? There was nothing more tempting to the Slytherin mind than a mystery, and they were determined to get to the bottom of this one.