Severus sat in the waiting room with Augusta Longbottom, Nott Senior, and many other parents.  Theodore Nott had taken a turn for the worst despite the fact that he initially appeared to be alright.  Apparently he had a head injury that worsened.  He passed out not long after making it out of the school. 

"How could something like this happen?  That blasted school was supposed to be protected," Nott grumbled as he paced the floor. 

"The founders could not have anticipated an earthquake when they started the school," Severus said through gritted teeth.  He never liked Nott.  The man grated on his last nerve. 

"Well, how about Dumbledore?  That senile old man should've done something in case of something like this," Nott said.

"For once, I agree with Nott.  We should be able to send our children off to school without worrying about them being killed by something like this," the mother of the Patil twins said.

"Our house certainly has protections for possible natural disasters," her husband added.

Severus eyed them sadly.  Unlike many others, they weren't there to hear about the condition of their children, as they hadn't made it to the hospital yet.  Severus didn't have it in them to tell them that at least one of their daughters wouldn't be rescued at all.  Pavarti Patil was not amongst the students to make it out of Gryffindor.  That meant that when the dorms or the tower itself went down, she probably did too.  He hoped for his own soul that it was the dorms and not caused by the spell he'd used to save Potter.

Just then a healer came over to them.  "Mr. Nott."

Nott immediately went over to him.  "How is my son?"

"Perhaps we should speak privately," the healer said.

Severus closed his eyes sadly.  The only time healers asked to speak privately was when they had bad news to give.  It was clear what the bad news was this time.  Theodore Nott didn't make it. 

The healer sighed.  "I'm sorry."

"W...what?  No!  He's not dead.  He was fine.  He was alert.  They said he walked out of that castle on his own.  And now you're telling me that my son is..."  He couldn't say the rest.  He couldn't even think it.  It was too terrible. 

"I know.  Sometimes it happens that way.  Sometimes people seem alright when they're not.  Sometimes we just don't know until it's too late," the healer said as gently as possible. 

"No.  No, it's someone else.  You're talking about someone else," Nott said while shaking his head.

"Mr. Nott..."

"Not my son!" Nott yelled in a begging tone.

"I wouldn't be telling you this if I didn't know for a fact.  Your son suffered a massive bleed in his brain.  We tried to repair it, but it was too extensive," the healer explained.

"My boy's dead?" Nott asked in a shaky voice. 

"Yes, sir.  I'm sorry."

Nott took several deep breaths and then glared at Severus.  "You tell that old man that I'm coming for him.  My son is dead because of him.  He's going to pay," he said in a cracked voice before walking away.

Severus didn't even attempt to speak.  Nott might be a despicable human being and he might have done terrible things, but he'd just lost his son.  He was entitled to some allowances. 

Theodore Nott's death hit heavily on Severus hard as well.  He was that boy's head of house.  He watched him grow up for five years.  Now he was gone.  In one terrible, random disaster, a fifteen-year-old boy had lost his life.  What was worse was that he wasn't the first nor would he the last to die on this night.

Severus forced all thought on the Nott boy's demise away and turned to the healer.  There would be plenty of time later to deal with the massive loss of life that had occurred tonight.  Right now he needed to focus on those who still had a chance of making it, like Potter.  "Do you have news on anyone else?  Potter perhaps?"

The healer shook his head.  "Sorry, he wasn't my patient."

"What about my grandson, Neville?" Augusta asked.

"Uh, I examined him for possible fatal injuries and determined he had none.  A more thorough examination will be conducted later," the healer said.

"What do you mean ‘later'?  He came in her with a broken back.  He needs to be looked at now," Augusta said irritably. 

"We've stabilized his back as best we can.  We don't have time to anything else.  There are children in serious trouble," the healer said.

"My grandson is in serious trouble!" Augusta yelled. 

"Would you shut up, Woman?!" Severus yelled back.  He was getting sick of listening to her badger the healer.  In the time she yelled at him, he could be saving the lives of more students.  Too many had already been sacrificed because of this tragedy.

Augusta glared at Severus.  "Shut up, Snape!  This has nothing to do with you!"

"Did you not see what just happened here?  Nott was just told that his son was dead.  Dead!  You won't be getting that news.  Whatever happens to your grandson as a result of this tragedy, he's going to live.  Take comfort in that and let this man get back to his job so that he can prevent others from hearing the news of their children's demise," Severus said.

"Who are you to lecture me?" Augusta asked angrily. 

Severus stood up from his seat and glared.  "Who am I?  I am the one who sat in that nearly completely destroyed room with your grandson and several other students waiting for a way out.  I'm the one that watched as young children uncovered the bodies of their classmates and were forced to look at them because there was no way out."

There was a collective gasp from the surrounding parents, all wondering if one of those bodies had been of their child.

Severus cringed when he realized the fear and horror he probably caused, but he kept his gaze on Augusta Longbottom.  "Gain some prospective.  The idea of your grandson being paralyzed is terrible, but not even close to as terrible as the loss of life that occurred tonight and will probably keep occurring," he said before walking towards the opposite end of the waiting room to get away from the woman.

After sitting down, Severus sighed and checked his watch.  It was five in the morning.  Technically, the night of hell had come to an end.  The tragedy, however, was far from over.  Hell, he wondered if it would ever be over.  He doubted it.  Too much had happened.  He had a feeling that they would all be dealing with the effects of this tragedy until the day died.