Spiral of Trust by Henna Hypsch
Summary: The summer Harry turns eighteen he sleeps alone in a shed at the Burrow. Will he be fit to return to Hogwarts for a seventh year of education? What does a last year at Hogwarts have to offer in the aftermaths of Voldemort’s demise? And how will Harry cope with the Headmaster in office?
Categories: Healer Snape, Teacher Snape > Professor Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Ginny, Hermione
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, General
Media Type: None
Tags: None
Takes Place: 7th Year
Warnings: Romance/Het, Romance/Slash, Self-harm, Suicide Themes
Challenges: None
Series: Spiral
Chapters: 47 Completed: Yes Word count: 259426 Read: 180106 Published: 11 Nov 2014 Updated: 24 Nov 2015
Chapter 15 The Grief Swallower by Henna Hypsch

Everyone in the hall had turned their heads to look at Harry and Malfoy and several pupils had risen to have a better view of what was happening. Professors McGonagall and Flitwick approached, but stopped at a distance when Snape, with a grim look on his face, lowered his wand a few steps from Harry.

“I give you thirty seconds to explain your conduct, Potter. Otherwise you’re expelled from this school with immediate effect!” he spat.

Harry was so upset he had difficulties finding his words.

“He...” Harry pointed at Malfoy “... is so full of self-pity… Whimpering about what Voldemort made him do. Of course he had a choice!” Harry’s breath heaved. “And she...” he pointed at Healer Schufflert “…is so engrossed by her own skills in making poor Malfoy talk about his wretchedness...” He spat out the words. “...that she forgets there are other victims here. She...” Harry pointed at Hermione “...was tortured in Malfoy’s house. And his mother...” Harry pointed at David “…died in that manor. He...” Harry pointed at Malfoy again. His left arm had begun to tremble from the effort of holding the shield against the Slytherin and his Auror. “He crumples up in anguish over his own deeds, but he’s still too selfish to realise who’s listening. It doesn’t matter that it’s unintentional - it’s cruel anyway. Do you really think that David Burbage needs to hear in detail how his mother died? Do you really think he needs those images in his head when he goes to bed tonight? Should I let Malfoy go on and tell him more? Let HIM ease his feelings of guilt at the expense of an innocent person who lost a parent? Who’s the victim here? This whole session thing is MADNESS and YOU should have stopped it from the beginning!” Harry shouted the last sentence full in Snape’s horror-struck face. It took a second for Snape to grasp the meaning of what Harry said, then he turned to Healer Schufflert.

“Did you let Mr Malfoy speak about Charity Burbage in front of her son?” he began, in a dangerously quiet tone, walking towards her. “I warned you of putting perpetrators...” he pointed at Malfoy as he raised his voice “... and victims...” he pointed at David who was sitting with his face hidden in his hands, “...in the same group. Professor Sprout informed you about the conditions of the pupils in her house, now, didn’t she?” Healer Schufflert fretted under Snape’s furious gaze.

”There was so much to take into consideration… We needed to assemble… I didn’t quite…” she began to say.

”It seems to me that you’ve taken on more than you can manage, Healer Schufflert. My only condition for allowing these sessions was that you shouldn’t cause more harm than good!” said Snape.

“We can Obliviate Mr Burbage at once. It’s so fresh, it will go easily...” said Healer Schufflert nonchalantly and waved her hand, as if to push Snape’s criticism away.

“He’s not to be Obliviated!” Snape and Harry roared in unison. They looked with surprise at each other.

“Lower your shield, Mr Potter, I’ll take care of this from now,” said Snape. Harry did as he was told and sat down. “Mr Sachs, please, take your charge down to the Slytherin dungeon. Draco, go with him. Healer Shufflert will come and see you later.” Malfoy, however, fought to get loose from the Auror’s grip. He still could not speak and fury shone out of his eyes. The Auror had difficulties restraining him. Miss Cork walked over to them.

“I’ll come with you, Draco. Let’s go down to the Slytherin common room together,” said the young head of Slytherin. To Harry’s surprise, Malfoy relaxed and turned to join her. The Auror followed and they were halfway to the exit when, Miss Cork having lifted the Langlock spell, Malfoy turned around and shouted:

“I wasn’t the only one who witnessed Charity Burbage’s execution. Ask Snape, he was sitting at Voldemort’s right side, and David’s mother pleaded with him to help her, said they were friends... He didn’t move a finger, didn’t say a word to her... Ask him!” he shouted at David who had risen and stared wildly from Malfoy to Snape. Miss Cork Langlocked Malfoy again and, with the help of Mr Sachs, dragged him out of the hall.

It was dead silent. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on Snape who took a step towards David.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that, Mr Burbage,” he said.

David backed off.

“Let me explain,” said Snape. “Let’s go to my office, or to the hospital wing. Mme Pomfrey can come with us and we’ll help you to the best of our ability.”

“Don’t come near me!” said David in such a stifled voice it sounded like he was being strangled. “Leave me alone! You let her die!” he whispered. Snape halted. Harry rose, but Snape stopped him with a gesture. David was pointing his wand at Snape with a shaking hand. Snape, who already had his wand drawn, lifted it slowly, but directed it sideways so that it did not point back at David. Snape closed his eyes briefly and suddenly a Patronus, a beautiful doe in full size, emerged from Snape’s wand. David winced and stared at the animal in amazement. The doe went up to David who instinctively stretched out his hand as if to stroke the silvery creature.

“Do you recognise my Patronus, David?” asked Snape.

“She came to warn us.” David spoke like in a trance. “One evening at the beginning of the summer. The doe came right up to our house and delivered a message to Mother. We Portkeyed from the backyard the same moment we heard the Death Eaters come through the front door. It saved my mother, but only for a month.”

A twelve-year-old girl walked up to the doe. “It came to my house, too,” she said. A forth year boy from Ravenclaw had also stepped forward, as if hypnotised by the animal.

“I was a spy,” said Snape softly, looking at David. “It was my mission to use the information I got from the Death Eaters’ quarters to save people on our side as often as I could. I constantly had to balance my acts so that I wouldn’t betray myself. If I did, I would be of no more use, do you understand? That day in July, when your mother was captured, I hadn’t picked up any indications of what was to happen. I wasn’t always let in on secrets. Voldemort didn’t trust me, even if I had managed to reach high rankings. He didn’t trust anyone. I was surprised and shocked to see Charity a prisoner when I entered that room...”

Snape’s voice faltered the least little bit.

“I must not betray myself. Voldemort tried us on purpose. I used my skills of Occlumency and I showed no reaction. I couldn’t have saved her at that moment, I’m sorry.” Snape lowered his head. The Patronus that had circled David suddenly disappeared. Tears ran down David’s cheeks and he shook violently.

“She was kept unconscious, most of the time. She was awake only for short intervals. She did plead with me when she was awake. We were colleagues and friends. Voldemort killed her, himself, with an Avada Kedavra. That means that it was quick... at least.” Snape’s voice trailed off, he did not seem to be able to make up what more to say. David’s breath was rattling. Harry thought that his friend was about to collapse.

“Just a moment, Mr Burbage, I’ll help you,” murmured Snape. He made an attempt to lift his hand, but his arm did not obey him and he stared at the floor.

Instinctively, Harry understood. Either Snape had already done too many Relieving Incantations during the evening, or he was restrained by his own memories of the horrid event. Harry made up his mind in an instant. He walked up to David, lifted his hands and started to mumble the incantation. He was prepared for the transfer and observed, almost with curiosity, how a burning sensation spread through his body - a searing, violent ache that transported itself in waves. He recognised the symptoms of grief and anguish. The grief after a lost mother - he knew that. He got a little misty-eyed, that was all. He stood absolutely still and let the feelings wash through him, until they abated. David was breathing normally and looked gratefully at Harry.

“Thank you!” he said, in a completely different voice, exempt of all tightness.

“She’ll always be with you, you know,” said Harry, meeting his eyes.

“I know,” said David.

Everyone had looked at them in suspense, completely silent, but now the talking and the scrapings from the chairs, as people sat down again, resumed. Harry had heard a stifled exclamation behind his back earlier, as he begun the incantation, and now Healer Shufflert was at his side, together with Snape who stared at Harry with frank curiosity. Mme Pomfrey and Hermione were talking to David and Hermione gestured to Harry that she intended to accompany them to the Hospital wing.

“Look what you’ve done, Professor, by setting them your careless example! This is dangerous stuff and they don’t even realise it. You scatter Relievings around you as if they’re simple cleaning spells and of course someone was bound to take after you. But he’s a student! He’s not allowed to perform such magic!” Healer Shufflert said heatedly to Snape.

“Come on, I only wanted to help out!” exclaimed Harry. “Couldn’t you see that he...” Harry gestured at Snape, but broke off as Snape gave him a warning glance. Apparently the headmaster was not prepared to admit to any weaknesses in front of the healer. “I wanted to help David, that’s all,” continued Harry, not sure why he covered for Snape, yet another time. ”You said so yourself, Mrs Shufflert, at the beginning of the session, didn’t you? We were to help each other.”

“I meant that you should help each other by talking. The rest is up to us adults. You’re a student and, in this context, you’re one of my patients and a traumatised victim,” she said bitingly. Harry shook his head in disbelief.

“That’s ridiculous!” he said. “When it comes to being an adult, I’m eighteen years old. If I had not missed out last year, I could just as well have been a medical student at St Mungo’s by now. I bet they do lots of Relieving Incantations all the time.” Healer Shufflert shook her head, but Harry continued. “And it’s stupid to define us as victims, just because we’re students. Voldemort’s reign of terror affected everyone - it reached throughout the country. Why, I bet even you, Mrs Shufflert, must have some relative or friend who was...”  He broke off again because Healer Shufflert winced and gripped his arm. She stared at him.

“How did you know?” she said hoarsely, blinking fast.

“That’s precisely what I meant,” said Harry. “We’re all affected.”

“You still shouldn’t do dangerous incantations like that,” retorted Healer Shufflert as she tried to compose herself.

“Incantations are not dangerous,” objected Harry with a frown, glancing at Snape. “The only thing that can happen is that they won’t work so well, but they cannot backfire, like curses, or harm anyone - unless it’s an incantation with Dark Magic in it, intended to do damage, of course,” he added.

“I meant that it can be detrimental to the person performing the incantation. The transfer of a Relieving Incantation can make you ill,” Healer Shufflert clarified impatiently.

”It was nothing, really,” Harry answered thoughtfully. “It’s easier to deal with the grief and anguish of somebody else, than it is to manage your own emotions. It passed very quickly, actually.” Healer Shufflert turned to Snape as it dawned on her.

“But the boy’s a Grief Swallower!” she exclaimed. “You’d better take care of him,” she muttered. “Explain to him his duties and restrictions and all that. I must finish this session.” She hurried away to give the teachers directions and soon pupils poured out of the room back to their houses. Harry felt a little tired and would not have objected to joining the others. He glanced at Snape and made a motion as if to slip away.

“Come with me, Mr Potter,” said Snape and turned toward a small door at the other end of the hall. Harry hesitated a second, then followed.

Upstairs, in the headmasters’s office, Snape first made for the desk, but changed his mind, turned and gestured for Harry to sit down in one of two armchairs, placed side by side in front of a fireplace. Snape made flames come to life with a flick of his wand, turned to Harry and drew his breath as if to start scolding him. He seemed at a loss where to begin.

“You were right to silence Malfoy, of course,” he finally said, letting out his breath. Snape frowned to himself and sat down beside Harry, who did not say anything in reply, but stared into the sparkling flames. It reminded him of the fire they had had in the Forbidden Forest when Snape helped him drive out his false nightmare attacks. For some reason that he could not explain, he felt slightly embarrassed. Snape stayed silent. Finally, Harry cleared his throat and spoke.

“Do you think that David Burbage will be okay, Professor?” he asked. Snape sighed.

“The boy has been in a poor state from the beginning of the term, I’m afraid. I have asked his head of house to talk to him and Professor Sprout reported to me that he could hardly speak at all. Maybe this was what he needed to start mourning his mother in a less crumpled and debilitating way. Your Relieving Incantation certainly loosened his system up and, hopefully, he’ll have time to process some of his feelings. This might be one of few positive outcomes of these horrible mind soothing sessions,” said Snape and sighed heavily again. He looked tired.

Harry nodded, but said nothing. Snape suddenly seemed to remember his duties.

“Do you suffer any side effects from the incantation?” he asked.

“No, I don’t think so. I’m fine. What kind of side effects would you expect?” retorted Harry.

“Weakness or pain in your body?” Snape looked inquiringly at him.

Harry shook his head.

“Dizziness, lingering anguish or underlying feelings of panic?”

Harry lifted an eyebrow.

“No, I don’t think so... No, not at all! I’m just a bit tired, but it has been a long evening, has it not?” he said.

“It has been a long week, Potter!” Snape said with heavy irony. After a pause, he continued in a formal, dry tone of voice: “I have the pleasure to inform you that you're in possession of an unusual magical gift, which in official terms is described as absorbing forces with alleviating effects on fellow beings, particularly with the ability to perform the special form of Relieving Incantations. You’re what’s called a ‘Grief Swallower’ in everyday language.” Harry looked at him uncertainly.

“It’s a gift?” he said. “Don’t all healers learn to do Relieving Incantations?”

“They are trained to be able to do it in emergency situations, at least. But I’d say that only about two-thirds of them are able to complete a successful incantation, and the majority suffer from severe side effects, as I told you,” answered Snape.

“But you can do it easily,” said Harry.

“I’m a Grief Swallower, too,” Snape stated flatly. “What characterise us is that we do Relievings swiftly, without almost any side effects and more efficiently than others. Naturally, there are limitations for us as well.”

Harry still looked doubtful, as if he did not know what to think of it all.

“A hundred years ago, Grief Swallowers were compelled to work in hospitals as healers. You didn’t have a choice,” Snape went on. ”Since the Swallowscopes were introduced at St Mungo’s, Grief Swallowers aren’t indispensable any longer. There are no more than eleven or twelve Grief Swallowers in all, today, at St Mungo’s. Maybe thirty wizards and witches with the ability in the whole country. You’re actually of most use on the field, in emergency situations where there are no Swallowscopes at hand. I’m sure Mrs Steadfast will be delighted to have a Grief Swallower in her troop of Aurors,” added Snape pointedly to Harry.

“It isn’t a merit if you were to apply to Med school then?” asked Harry.

“Of course it is. But they won’t take you just for that. You need to comply with basic requirements,” said Snape.

Harry looked into the fire.

“As a Grief Swallower you have an obligation, in case of emergencies, to be at the Ministry’s disposal. In analogy with Animaguses, they have a list of all ‘wizards and witches with alleviating abilities’. You’ll have to undergo a test at St Mungo’s and then you’ll be officially listed. After seeing you tonight, however, I have no doubts whatsoever that you are indeed a Grief Swallower. Do you have any questions?” Snape still spoke curtly.

It sounded like Snape not only wanted to minimise his efforts to explain, but that he tried to play down the significance of the gift itself as well. Harry wondered if the headmaster was just tired, or if there was something else behind the reluctance. It annoyed him slightly and only made him more determined to go to the bottom of this. He might not be given the opportunity, within a foreseeable future, of speaking face-to-face with another Grief Swallower, if they were as scarce as Snape claimed. Talking to Snape was as unpredictable as entering into conversation with a dragon, so you might as well go through with it, while you were at it.

“Are Grief Swallowers generally liked?” asked Harry.

“Why do you ask that?” exclaimed Snape, taken aback.

“It struck me that Healer Shufflert wasn’t very appreciative of my achievement. All that stuff about it being dangerous. And she seemed reluctant for you to do the Relievings as well,” replied Harry. Snape shrugged impatiently.

“There’s some apprehension in front of Grief Swallowers. The ability may seem strange and frightening to the uninitiated,” he replied.

“But why be snooty and disapproving about it? And Healer Schufflert’s not uninitiated,” objected Harry. Snape looked annoyed and started to explain, articulating over-explicitly:

“I already told you that when the Swallowscopes were introduced at the hospitals around a century ago, it was a revolution in Magical Medicine. Before that, Grief Swallowers were top wizards at the hospitals. The rest of the healers depended upon them. They were so few, that most of them worked too hard, with not very pleasant side effects and the general idea of them were that they were gloomy, sad and haughty individuals that only turned up at desperate situations.”

Harry thought the description fitted Snape perfectly, but he was at a loss at identifying himself with it. Snape went on.

“Grief Swallowers were associated with sorrow and death, and people were afraid of them. Because of the Swallowcopes, suddenly they were no longer needed and, consequently, many of them were turned away from the hospitals. The other healers were keen to manage on their own and they started to despise Grief Swallowers as something old-fashioned. A lot of healers still stick to this malicious idea of Grief Swallowers, even though their abilities are again valued in the hospitals.”

“They are?” asked Harry.

“Yes, because some categories of patients are neither suitable for treatment with potions, nor suitable for Relievings with the Swallowscope. They say that the effect of the Swallowscope is rougher and that it might leave a feeling of emptiness, whereas a Relieving by a Grief Swallower is gentler and leaves a more whole feeling. When it’s just about physical pain, it doesn’t matter so much, but when it comes to grief and anguish and other more complex feelings, the Swallowscope is not the appropriate choice.”

Harry pondered this.

“It’s about sharing, I suppose,” he said.

“What do you mean?” asked Snape and tried to maintain his unconcerned countenance, but an inquisitive sparkle was discernible in his black eyes.

“Well, would you like to share your inner feelings with a box?” said Harry with disapprobation. “The Grief Swallower not only takes the plaguing feelings away, does he? He also understands the feeling. If you don’t understand it, you cannot process it, right? You recognise it and you let it ravage through your body until it fades away. That’s how it works, isn’t it? So you share it with the other person.”

“You’re quite right,” said Snape with awakened interest. “What’s more: the fact that you endure the feeling without succumbing to it, works as a model for the person you’re helping. It shows them that the emotions are endurable and maybe they’ll be better prepared when they encounter those feelings the next time.” He looked expectantly at Harry as if to see whether the young man grasped the nuances of what he was saying.

“Yes, I see what you mean,” Harry nodded slowly. “What does it tell a person if you make out his or her feelings must be hidden in a magic box? It’ll tell them that the emotion is indeed unbearable, right? And they’ll feel empty and lonely, I guess. Abandoned even, perhaps… Yeah... I can easily see the drawbacks of Swallowscopes.”

Snape nodded, but did not elaborate further and fell silent. Harry muttered, more to himself than at Snape.

“It’s nice to have a special gift. I never had one before. Nothing that counted... I only had the scar on my forehead that made me special and I always hated it, because it’s in the same time a reminder of...” He interrupted himself and shook his head. “A pity it’s a gift not whole-heartedly approved of... I think it’s a good thing to be able to help people. I like this gift better than being a Parselmouth... which was not a talent that belonged to me, anyway. But what a ridiculous name for it: Grief Swallower. It’s horrible!” Harry raised his voice disapprovingly. “Don’t you think so, Professor?” he asked Snape in an offended tone.

Snape shrugged, but a smile played at the corner of his lips.

“It gives a completely false idea of what it’s all about, too,” Harry continued in passion. “Like… as if you swallow the feelings, feed on them somehow. What a preposterous idea! They resonate in you. They flood your whole body, right?” Harry was suddenly stricken by doubts. “Or does the transfer feel different for each Grief Swallower? Is it individual?”  he asked Snape who startled and frowned.

“Er...I... I haven’t thought about that. I never asked another Grief Swallower... but the description you make fits with my experience, so I reckon it must be roughly the same for us all,” he said, slightly off balance. 

“Yeah... Anyway, that name sucks... Excuse me, Professor, but it does,” Harry looked at Snape in earnest. “It must’ve been invented by some jealous git healer at St Mungo’s!”

Taken aback, Snape made an attempt to compose his features, but capitulated and gave up a ringing laugh. Harry stared surprised at his teacher. The laughter was quite unlike Snape’s usual sarcastic snorts. It was undisguised and contagious. Harry chuckled and started to laugh, too, turning his head away, embarrassed. As he did, he caught something in the corner of his eye. He sat himself erect in the chair and narrowed his eyes. Snape’s laughter abated and he looked sharply at Harry.

“He peaked at us again,” said Harry, pointing at Dumbledore’s portrait. “He’s prying on us. Silly old man!” Harry laughed softly, but blinked ferociously at the same time. “You’re welcome to join in the conversation any time, you know, Professor!” he launched, mock-defiantly at Dumbledore. Snape frowned at him, without so much as glancing at the portrait. Harry made an attempt to rise.

“Thank you for answering my questions, Sir,” he said politely to Snape, who nodded courtly. “Are we finished?”

“We’re done, Potter,” said Snape. They were both eager to end the meeting.

With his hand on the handle, ready to exit, Harry turned around to ask one last question:

“Why do you become a Grief Swallower? Does it go in families?”

Snape clenched his jaws imperceptibly, but answered slowly, looking Harry straight in the eyes:

“It seems that only persons who have had to deal with difficult events and losses in their childhood and adolescence become Grief Swallowers. You need, so to say, to have met the complex feelings of grief and anguish early on in life and been able to house those feelings, without too vast damage to your own person.”

Harry felt an icing feeling in the pit of his stomach. A shadow of gravity passed over his young face.

“There’re some hereditary components, but it’s common for the gift to skip generations, as the circumstances during childhood determine if the gift erupts or not. In my family, however, both my mother and my grand-mother were Grief Swallowers. Not that my mother made much of it... I never saw her perform a Relieving in my life,” added Snape gloomily and turned his head away. Harry hesitated before he asked:

“Would you know whether my mother was...”

“Lily was not a Grief Swallower,” Snape responded quickly. A dangerous tone had crept into his voice.

“Thank you, Sir, that’s all I wanted to know. Good night!” Harry spoke hurriedly and was out of there, before Snape had time to reply further.

 

The End.


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