Set Ablaze (Repost-idiot--me--deleted it)

A/N: If you catch a spelling error, pretty please let me know.


“I just need to find my Transfiguration Professor,” Natalie pleaded with Madam Pomfrey yet again, “If I could just speak with her… It's my worst subject. If I have to stay in bed I need a way to be productive. I can't keep wasting so much time.”

The nurse pursed her lips and folded her arms to glare at her patient.

“You have regained little use of your lungs. Walking through the castle would send you into hyperventilation. Besides, you need to rest,” she scolded.

Natalie groaned, regretting it, and laid back down. This nurse was seriously getting on her nerves. The curtains were still up. A boy who looked to be eleven or twelve was brought in by a very small man with black hair. The boy had sprouts out of his nose down to his bellybutton and still growing. Madam Pomfrey set him right with a few flicks of her wand, and he was off, already being lectured by the small man as they walked out the door.

Natalie heard the nurse’s footsteps leave her bed. Waited until she heard the office door close, Natalie swung her legs over the edge of the bed. With careful focus on her breathing, she placed her sock-covered feet on the floor and slowly stood. Lightheadedness caught her by surprise, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it had been the day before. She pulled the curtain aside quietly and took a few tentative steps forward. When she was sure she wasn't going to fall, she walked normally to the door, but half way paused and put a hand to her chest. As much as she hated to admit, Madam Pomfrey had been right.

Natalie forced her breath into an even rhythm and very slowly made her way across the stone floor to the wooden door of the infirmary. She stopped inches in front of them and placed her hands on the door, willing it not to make any sound at all. Holding her breath, she grasped the metal handle and pulled it forward. It was much more heavy than she expected and required both hands to open it enough for her slide out. It was silent, even as it closed after she passed the threshold and into the hallway.

Snape made his way from the dungeons to the great hall. Not far from the marble staircase, however, a blot of white against the shadow and black school robes caught his eye. He glanced for a second, and then stopped. He watched her to make sure he wasn't seeing things. She held tightly to the banister with one hand, her other hand pressed against her diaphragm. She stopped walking, closed her eyes, and tried to catch her breath.
Snape turned sharply and began to mount the steps.

Natalie thought her chest was going to explode. She forced herself to swallow her last gasp and tried to continue on. She took two steps and stopped. Professor Snape stood a meter from her, arms crossed over his chest, glaring expectantly at her.

"Where is it you are so determined to be, Miss Goust?" he said silkily.

"I... I...," she stuttered, terrified she was in trouble, "need to see the Transfiguration professor."

Snape frowned, breathign through the biting comment that rose instantly to his lips.

"And why are you looking for her?"

She took as deep a breath as she could and tried to explain, "Transfiguration is my worst... subject. I'm already a month... behind, and since I'm in a... hospital bed I thought it would... be a good idea to use that time."

Her breath began to come more sharply. Snape couldn't listen to her any more. He walked up beside her and held his arm out.

"Come, Miss Goust. It is time you get back to bed," he said. She protested immediately, but he cut her off, saying, "I will find Professor McGonagall and tell her you need to speak with her. Now come before you drop from lack of oxygen."

Snape lead her away and up a few flights of stairs. She moved very slowly on the steps. Several times he had to stop and let her catch up. She didn't look up at him once, keeping her eyes to her feet, but she continued to move until the last staircase before the hospital wing. She leaned on the banister, gasping and breathing as if she ran ten miles.

Snape walked back down to her, and asked, "Do you need assistance?"

She shook her head.

He said quieter, "You have made it quite far. Help is acceptable at this point so you do not worsen your condition."

She shook her head again, gripped the banister, and pulled herself up the next two steps. She continued slowly, Snape one step behind her. Far be it from him to stop her determination. If she was strong enough and wanted to push on (and if someone was there to make sure she didn't get hurt), he saw no problem with letting her proceed. He did, however, walk in front of her after they reached the landing to open the infirmary doors. She didn't argue.

"Go quietly," he whispered.

She placed a hand over her mouth to smother her ragged breathing. As quickly as she could, she made her way to the curtained, fourth bed on the left. Snape pulled the side curtain over for her to get in.

Natalie put her hands on the mattress and turned around. She rested her butt against the bed and folded her arms. Every muscle in her body shook from exhaustion. She had no idea how she was going to heave herself up onto the bed.

Doing it as obviously as he could make it, Snape moved to stand beside her. He bent down and gently hooked his arm under her legs. He paused, waiting for her to flinch or pull away, but she did neither. He placed his other arm around the back of her shoulders and lifted her up two centimeters above where she sat. He pulled her over the middle of the bed and lowered her to the mattress.

He knew his care was excessive, but he placed his hands on her knees and carefully pushed them flat. Her body trembled under his hands and the sheets. Pulled the blanket up to her chest, he caught the pained expression on her face, eyes closed, biting her lip. If he didn't have such a good hold on his reactions he would have jumped to comfort her.

She half opened her eyes to look at him.

"Thank you," she whispered between violent breaths.

He said nothing, just backed away and drew the curtain shut.

"Severus," said Madam Pomfrey expectantly.

He looked over at the nurse and spoke without thought.

"I needed to speak with Miss Goust about making up her potions when she is released from your care."

"Outside of the infirmary?" Madam Pomfrey commented with a raised eyebrow.

"I did not remove her from the hospital wing," Snape told her honestly.

She clicked her tongue in skepticism, pushing past him to get to the bed.

As the nurse busied herself fussing over Natalie, Snape slipped out unnoticed, on his way to find Minerva McGonagall.

~

After seven days on a Sunday evening, Natalie was granted release from the hospital wing. Her first line of action was to ambush the line of teachers as they tried to leave dinner.

Professor McGonagall was closest to her.

"I have finished the work you gave me, Professor," Natalie said as she held out both her hands with a stack of parchment between them.

McGonagall looked mildly surprised, and said, "All of it?"

Natalie nodded.

"A month's worth? Well, so much for it being your worst subject."

"If you could, would you tell me where I am going wrong?" the girl asked.

McGonagall nodded as she leafed through the papers. Snape smiled, thinking, finally maybe someone would rival Hermione Granger. Natalie faced Professors Flitwick and Sprout.

She told them, "I have read the first four chapters of your classes. I was wondering if I could be tested on them and be allowed to move on?"

"Yes, of course. I will set up a two part exam," Flitwick promised.

"As will I," agreed Professor Sprout.

"Thank you," said Natalie, then she turned to Snape, who she noticed seemed to stand a little straighter, and asked, "Is there a time when I will be able to complete my missed potions?"

Snape seemed to think about it, and replied, "You may come any time I have a class if you stay in the back, but do not draw attention to yourself."

"Of course."

Before Natalie could turn and ask the professor in pink, the woman stepped forward and spoke rapidly, almost as a challenge, "You are to complete the first five chapters in the text and meet with me everyday after class to ensure you are doing as you're told."

For several seconds Natalie's face hardened, and Severus felt the urge to say something to keep her from saying or doing anything that would make an enemy of Dolores Umbridge, but then Natalie gave a tight nod.

“Thank you for accommodating me,” she told them all, “But I need to speak with Professor Binns. Excuse me.”

Her teachers nodded, and she turned to ambush her ghost professor.

“I don't see anything incorrect,” Minerva mumbled at Professor Dumbledore.

~

Over the next week, Natalie had her make-up exams, written and otherwise, and concocted potions in sequence from day one. She lost two points in her practical Charms exam and four in her practical Transfiguration exam, but so far she had yet to lose points in Potions. Most of the classes she imposed on for her make-up potions were first and second years. She liked watching them when her potions needed to simmer, or when she absentmindedly cut ingredients. She noticed Professor Snape was very distant from his younger classes. He barely gave instruction and only looked up when something exploded.

On her fourth day she saw a second year at the table in front of her was crying. She kept looking at the textbook, then the blackboard, and back down at the text.

“I don't know,” she mumbled over and over again until Natalie felt so bad for her she slipped out from behind her own table and, glancing up to the front of the room to make sure Professor Snape wasn't looking, quietly made her way up to the girl's cauldron. Natalie put a finger to her lips to make sure the wide-eyed girl said nothing to draw attention to them. Looking at the potion, Natalie decided that she probably just added too much nutmeg and turned it orange. Natalie pointed to the knife (The girl picked it up.), pointed to the green caterpillar (The girl cut it up quickly.), and pushed half the pieces towards her. Without a word or another gesture, Natalie slid back over to her own stool. She glanced back up to make sure the professor wasn't watching, but she had no such luck. He was looking directly at her with one eyebrow slightly raised. She bit her lip and averted her eyes as she pushed her attention back to her own potion.

Apparently she was a softhearted girl. He had been watching her on and off through his top eyelashes. She was extremely good at what she did, but there seemed to be something missing about her, an absent section of her personality that showed only for a second when helping the girl. Natalie seemed almost slightly detached and distant from everything. He knew the potential she had if she could find a passion for potions.

The bell rang, and the class gratefully packed away their things and shuffled out the doors. Natalie had just washed off her table when Snape called across the room, “Miss. Goust, I would like to speak with you.”

Nervous dread filled her. Had she just ruined her chance to make up the rest of her potions? She walked up to his desk. He put down his quill, folded his hands, and looked up at her.

“The condition about you being practically invisible is not my rule. It is advisement on Professor Dumbledore's request,” he said, “There are certain people here who do not want you at this school because of your age, and if these people find a way to decide you cannot be here, Professor Dumbledore fears he will be able to do little to challenge them.”

Softly Natalie said, “I'm sorry. I won't do it again.”

Snape nodded in response and looked back down at his papers.

Natalie returned to her table and finished packing. With her bag over her shoulder, she was on her way out when a thought occurred to her.

She asked, “Professor?”

Snape looked up.

“These 'people,'” Natalie continued, “They wouldn't happen to be Delores Umbridge and her backers, would they?”

Snape leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his lips as if pondering but said nothing.
“Thought so,” Natalie said softly.

Dolores Umbridge had been one of the two problems Natalie had all week. Umbridge tested her on the most trivial of things, some things not in the text, and lectured her on what a disappointment she was when she didn't know. Natalie longed to prove her wrong, so wrong, but she could do nothing but study more.

The other problem was nightmares, which Natalie usually ignored, but her roommates did not like being woken up with screaming every night. They were beginning to really resent it, and they had every right to.

She made it to Friday without further incident, but just a few minutes before bell in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Umbridge said in her sickening voice, “I have word that some of you are practicing defense spells in the common rooms and even in other classes. This will stop at once.”

“Why can’t we practice in the common rooms?” Hermione Granger asked incredulously.

“As I have stated on several occasions, I am teaching does not involve using this kind of magic.”

Natalie thought Harry Potter looked like he were on the verge of exploding.

“Why have class at all?” he yelled, “Why learn something we supposedly will never need?”

Umbridge's fake sweet face turned murderous as she set eyes on Harry, her voice dripping with venom as she told him, “This class only teaches what you need to know. That does not include being able to blast people through walls. I'm not going to teach you how to fight!”

Harry shot from his chair. The silence over the rest of the class was deafening. Natalie's heart was racing. Angry yelling was something she was familiar with.

Harry yelled back, “You're purposely crippling the Wizarding World! Maybe you're working for Voldemort!”

Umbridge lashed out and slapped Harry as hard as her pudgy arms would allow. With all the flinching the rest of the class did at the name of You-Know-Who, no one saw it coming.

“Stop!” Natalie screeched, jumping up from her desk and clumsily running over.

“Sit down, stupid girl!” Umbridge snapped harshly.

“No!” Natalie yelled back as she reached Harry. She placed her hand on the red part of his cheek, but he pulled it away. “You have no right to treat people like this.”

“Detention! Both of you! I will see you in my office tonight,” snapped Umbridge, and she turned away sharply to go sit behind her equally portly desk.

Harry glanced at Natalie with a mixture of irritation and pity. They went out with the rest of the class and made their way to dinner. Umbridge did not show up to eat. When dessert vanished, Harry Potter and Natalie Goust left the Great Hall for the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Harry's steps were a great deal more grudging than hers. He knew what detention with Umbridge was about.

As they approached the classroom door, Harry whispered, “I'm sorry. Don't let her know it's getting to you.”
Natalie's eyes widened a bit, but Harry pushed on. They walked through the room and knocked on the door to Umbridge's office.

Umbridge's irritating voice said in a falsely sweet tone, “Come in.”

They entered and said nothing.

“You know what to do, Mr. Potter,” she said, and gestured for the two desks set side by side not far from Umbridge's desk.

Natalie followed what Harry did. He sat at one of the desks, put his bag by his chair, and picked up the quill. Harry glanced at her and put the tip of the quill to the paper and began to write in red without any ink. Natalie didn't understand, and then she noticed Harry's hand tremble slightly. The words were appearing bloody and deep, seemingly tracing lines that were already there.

Natalie's horror only last a couple seconds, but then she set her face and mind. She had been through much worse.

“I will be silent,” Umbridge said slowly to her as if she might not understand.

Together the two students diligently carved into the backs of their hands for nearly three hours. As the fourth approached Harry glanced over at his classmate and did a double take. Blood oozed out of the back of her hand, a sheer coat that spilled over onto the desk and parchment. Natalie seemed possessed. She kept writing 'be silent' over and over again, forgetting the 'I will,’ her eyes glazed over as she zoned at the edge of the desk.

Harry slowly reached over and wrapped his hand around her wrist to stop her from writing. She jumped and jerked away from him, rattling the desk. Umbridge looked over and smiled.

“Problem, dear?” she asked.

It took a couple seconds, but Natalie answered with a thick tongue, “Yes, just got startled is all.”

Harry watched her for the next few minutes. Even though Natalie had stopped cutting her hand, it was not healing. The blood puddle just grew.

They resumed their tasks, but a half hour later a dark puddle began to form around the leg of Natalie's desk. She was looking distant again. Just when Harry thought he was going to have to think of something to get her out, Umbridge clapped her hands together girlishly, and said, “Well, let's see how far we got today.”

Umbridge's eyes lingered on the mess of Natalie's desk and said, “You are cleaning that up.... Mr. Potter, I will bring you in here as many times as I have to until you listen. You may go now. Here, girl.”

Umbridge held out a rag, and Natalie took it. Harry picked up his bag and set it in his seat. When their teacher was at her desk again, Harry stepped shoulder to shoulder with Natalie. He took out his wand and whispered, “Scurgify.” The blood vanished. He bent down and tapped the puddle with the same spell. It also disappeared. Harry grabbed her bag as she went to pick it up and ushered her silently from the office.

Just outside the classroom, Harry stopped her and took off his tie. He wrapped it around her still bleeding hand and gave the bag back.

He told her quietly, “I have to get back to the common room. It's after hours. You should too.”

Nodding, Natalie shouldered her bag. He left with a small wave.

Knowing, however, what she did about her inability to heal and how thin her blood was, Natalie had no intention of going to the Hufflepuff common room. Instead she carefully made her way to the dungeons, the whole time willing her feet and the steps and portraits to make no noise. When she made it the potion rooms, she sought out the one used for her own fifth year classroom. It was the only one she knew of for sure that had all the ingredients.

Refusing to use anymore of her magic that night, Natalie struggled with her hand to get everything out, but once the cauldron was out and full on her bench, the process became a lot easier. Around midnight Harry Potter's tie could hold no more liquid, and red streaks began running down her arm. She wished the brewing didn't take two and half hours, but there was no hurrying a potion, especially one like this. Cutecura was temperamental to the highest degree, she knew from experience.

In the midst of adding milkweed leaves, some of them stopped right above her cauldron. She frowned and picked it back up, but her fingers brushed a solid barrier. She pressed her hand against the invisible lid. It didn't move.

Oh no.

She whipped her head around towards the door, and there he was.

Snape had been on his way to see Dumbledore when he heard the familiar bubbling of a cauldron. He was furious at first but then recognized who it was, and a little of his anger melted away,. Standing watching her he could tell something was wrong. He capped the potion and waited for her to see him.

Natalie nonchalantly lowered her arm and pressed it the small of her back.

“I'm sorry, Professor,” she said immediately, lowering her eyes, “Please don't be angry. I know I'm not supposed to be here.”

Snape proceeded forward. His eyes lingered on the stain of her collared shirt then wandered over the ingredients she had spread out on the table.

He pointed to her chest where she had held her hand to, and asked, “Are you hurt?”

“No,” she said immediately, “Not... I'm....”

“Show me,” Snape ordered.

She looked at his feet for a couple seconds, then slowly brought her hand out from behind her back and held it in front of her. Snape stepped closer and cupped his hands lightly around hers at once. Her blood smeared off onto his skin. Slowly he began unwrapping the tie that hid her gashes. He expected lacerations, deep gouges, but when the last of the tie was removed it clearly was not what he expected. They were words. He dropped the tie to the floor and gently wiped his sleeve over the back of her hand. For a few seconds the words 'be silent' were visibly carved into her skin before blood oozed up and filled in the divots and poured over.

“You did this?” asked Snape, forgetting to hide the note of astonishment in his voice.

“Yes.”

“Why?” he snapped, as if her injury personally offended him, “Why would you do this?”

She hesitated, his tone making her nervous, and replied, “I had to.”

Snape didn't take that as an answer. He pushed her onto the stool at her bench and dug in his pockets. He withdrew a small container of Cutecura. With his sleeve again, he removed the blood from the back of her hand and quickly spread the paste into the wounds. He rubbed it in, but droplets returned.

“Follow me,” Snape said as he turned from her and marched out of the room.

She paused, unsure, but did as she was told and followed Snape all the way down to the end of the dungeon to a door, dripping blood along the walk and swaying from side to side. Snape reached for the handle and opened it. He stood aside to let her in.

It lead to his private rooms. A stiff black couch sat in front of his fireplace. There were books and paintings and a desk, but that's all she could register before Snape took her arm and led her to the right through an entryway into a kitchen. He sat her down at the small, square table in the middle, and he proceeded to dig through the many cupboard that lined all three walls. She looked around her in the dim light but could make out few things, like a couple seemingly muggle appliances and a line below the cupboards she took to be counter tops.

Snape's wand lit as he returned to the table with three vials to set on it. He moved another chair to sit in front of Natalie, took her hand again, and began applying the potions, one after another, but no matter how much he dripped or rubbed the potions on her wounds she kept bleeding. Her hand burned more every time he touched it.
Snape waved his wand and another bottle shot from a cupboard right into his hand.

“Drink this,” he said as he uncorked it, “It will replenish your blood so you will not get dizzier.”

She did as he said. As soon as she swallowed it he stood and left the room. Severus headed for his personal lab. He approached a solid wall, tapped it, and it opened into a door that lead down a flight of stairs. This is where he kept the potions that weren't typically used. He snatched one off the shelf and summoned three more. On his way up the steps he heard a frantic call.

“Professor!”

He lunged the rest of the steps three at a time and hurried into the kitchen. Natalie was still sitting at her chair but had her arm outstretched locked at the elbow. With his wand lit, Snape came around and nearly slipped. Blood was pouring from her cuts as if an artery had been severed. The blood replenishing potion was just supposed to replace lost blood, but it seemed that for some reason it continued producing, and her body knew what blood did not belong.

Snape saw her eyes wide with alarm, but he was impressed by her calm control. He uncorked a bottle and tipped it to her lips, but even as he did the stream of blood was slowing. He pulled the bottle away before she could drink it. The constant running gradually turned into the drip, drip of her natural blood. She pulled her arm in, looking at her hand like it had grown two more fingers. Gently Snape used his other sleeve to clean it and covered it with a thick, chunky, muddy-looking paste. He rubbed it in like with the others, but this time the drops became less frequent, and within a couple of minutes stopped all together.

Standing, Snape summoned two towels from a drawer and walked over to the sink in front of Natalie and wet one with warm water. He returned and began cleaning her hand of mud and blood.

“What was that paste?” Natalie asked softly.

Snape answered without looking up, “It was the old substitute of Cutecura from time of Romans. It's all natural, completely different from modern healing potions. One could argue that all potions are natural but typically what they do to the body is not. This, Tergum, is from a time when Natural potions were all they had. Obviously your body responds far better to it.”

He switched to the warm rag, and let it soak and warm her damaged, tingling skin, but he still did not look up at her.

Natalie would have shifted uncomfortably if it wouldn't have drawn attention. She hoped Professor Snape was not as intelligent as he seemed. There were certain aspects of her body and abilities she needed him not to know and did not want to explain.

“What is the difference in how the potion takes effect?” she asked with genuine curiosity.

“Artificial potions create their own cells, like the cells that compose blood, and disappear as the body produces its own, however long that may be, but a Natural potion speeds up the process of cell production by taking energy from the body it is presented to. It can be dangerous. For instance, if you had lost so much blood that you were unconscious, and then you were given the Natural potion to replace it, the energy it could require to work could be all the energy you have left.”

He finally looked up at her, and said, “It could kill you.”

She looked down to avoid his gaze.

After a minute he asked, “The tie was Gryffindor. To whom did it belong?”

“Harry Potter,” she answered.

For a split second she could have sworn a shadow passed over his face, but then it was gone, and he said, “You left the Great Hall after dinner with him.”

Natalie was surprised at his observance.

“Why were you with him, and why did he give you his tie instead of escorting you to the hospital wing?”

“Harry and I had detention together, and after, he said we were out too late and had to get back to the common rooms.”

“But you came to the dungeons instead.”

“I didn't know if we were allowed to go to the hospital wing.”

Snape was frowning at her.

He said, “You did this to yourself in detention? The professor didn't notice?”

Natalie frowned back at him. What was he talking about?

Snape sighed and said, “Tell me what happened from the beginning.”

“Harry and Umbridge were arguing, and she slapped him.”

Snape quirked an eyebrow but gradually sat forward, seeing her get more and more upset as she spoke.

“She slapped him, and no one said anything! No one did anything. I told her she had no right, and she told me to sit down and be silent, but I didn't, and she gave us both detention.”

“I will inform Dumbledore,” Snape said to try to prevent her from crying, “He will not allow that to happen at Hogwarts. None of the teachers will.”

For a second Natalie froze. She wished she could express to him the immense relief he had just set over her. Knowing that physical punishment was not part of this school was more comforting than she expected it to be.

“Continue,” said Snape.

“She had these quills without ink. I didn't understand. I watched Harry pick his up and write anyway. It wrote in blood, and letters started cutting into his hand, but there were already letter scars there. 'I must not tell lies' they said.”

Snape gripped her wrist so tightly her fingers began to redden and tingle. Anger at where this story was going flushed through him. Umbridge was torturing Harry Potter in a way even Severus Snape would not condone. And Natalie....

“She told me to write 'I will be silent.' I kind of, I really don't know, disconnected after a couple hours. I just wrote 'be silent' over and over again until Harry grabbed my wrist to stop me.” Snape gritted his teeth. “He had drops of blood on the parchment and desk, but I had a puddle that was soaking half the parchment. Then it ran on to the floor. At the end all she said to me was 'clean it up.' She gave me a rag, but Harry used his wand and made it go away. He didn't go to the hospital wing, so I didn't know if I could either.”

For a minute Snape sat there and seethed. So, this was the Ministry's new plan? To torture students? It seemed that when the Dark Lord made his return public Dolores Umbridge would be the first new recruit. Worst of all, he was sure there was nothing Dumbledore could do to stop her, at least not forever.

Natalie was staring at her knee, not sure what to do next. She really just wanted to go to bed. She was exhausted and not just from the time. She looked small and fragile sitting in front of him. He watched her eyes begin to droop. A ridiculous urge to touch her face swelled in him. After a shocked second at himself, he squashed it down.
Instead he leaned forward, still holding the rag to her hand, and said as softly as he could manage with rage burning through him, “I need you to listen.”

She looked up.

“I apologize that you went through this at my school, and I wish I could say it will not happen again, but Dolores Umbridge's power is beyond any of us at the moment. I will promise however, that I will do what I can to stop her. If this happens again, I need you to come to me. Madam Pomfrey does not have many Naturals in the hospital wing. I will help her stock them, but until then I need you to tell me if you have an injury.”

“Okay,” she said meekly.

“I'm going to wrap your hand and soak the bandages in essence of merlap, and I will give you a bottle to re-soak them in the morning. It will take the pain away.”

He got up and a few minutes later returned with damp, white cloth. He gently wrapped it around her. The intense sting she had been ignoring to her best ability vanished instantly.

“Thank you,” she whispered with a sigh.

Snape handed her a bottle without reply. He thought it best to say nothing unnecessary until he was sure he his anger was under control. What was Umbridge playing at? Natalie (and the other students, but he wasn't really thinking about them) had nothing to do with this imaginary battle between the Minister and Dumbledore.

“I will walk you back to your dorm,” he said evenly, standing and waiting for her to do the same.

As she rose to her feet she wobbled. For a second Snape readied himself to catch her, but she stabilized. He turned and marched through the main room that contained more furniture than she originally saw, and to the entrance door. With his hand on the knob, he paused and turned to look back at her.

“I have a request of you,” he said with less certainty than usual, “It is against very strict rules for a student to be in a teacher's private rooms for obvious reasons. I will inform Dumbledore of tonight's events, but I ask that you do not tell anyone you were here.”

She nodded and said weakly, “Okay.”

Snape opened the door and let her out in front of him. Her steps were quite a bit heavier than usual. That accompanied with the dull ache of her incompletely healed lungs, made her fall behind and stumble a few times. Snape adjusted his pace to match hers, and lashed out to steady her, but it was not needed. She kept herself upright.

Thankfully, the Hufflepuff common room wasn't as far as the hospital wing. When they stood outside the tapestry to the common room, Snape turned to her and finally spoke.

“If your roommates ask you questions about where you were tonight, tell them you were with Madam Pomfrey.”

Natalie half smiled sardonically with her eyes half closed from exhaustion, and replied, “I'm sure they noticed, but they're not going to question it.”

“Why is that?”

“Because this is the most sleep they've gotten since I got out of the infirmary.”

Snape frowned, but before he could inquire further, she said, “Thank you, Professor, for healing me and bringing me up here. I won't ever talk about being with you tonight, promise. Good night.”

She stood in front of him for a few seconds. When she was sure he wasn't going to reply, she turned, gave the password, and the tapestry drew aside to let her open the door behind it. She gave a small wave and disappeared behind it.

~

Just when Dumbledore began wondering why Severus was so late, the man in question banged the door open and marched in. He was in a storm. He slammed the door shut behind him.

"Did you know?" he demanded of the headmaster as he approached, "Did you know about Umbridge's detentions?"

Dumbledore frowned and asked, "What about her detentions?"

"Her blood quill," Snape spat as he halted inches from Dumbledore's desk and bent over to place his hands on it, "She makes the students carve into their hands until words are scarred."

Dumbledore closed his eyes, pressed his fingers together, and rested his forehead against them. He knew Harry had injured his hand, but he assumed it was a quidditch accident. The wound hadn't seemed severe.

"Someone has to do something," Snape continued, "No matter what Fudge says, the parents will not allow this."

"Harry has no parents, Severus," Dumbledore told him as though he didn't already know, "The way people are perceiving him right now, they might have gratitude for Dolores Umbridge, especially if Harry is the only one."

Severus sank into the chair in front of Dumbledore and took a deep breath.

"Umbridge has given Natalie Goust detention as well," he said, not looking up.

The older man leaned back in his chair and looked down his nose at his teacher.

"So this is why you care," he said quietly, "Dolores can do whatever she wants to Harry, but to touch Miss Goust encures your anger. And how did you come to know this?"

With obvious reluctance, Snape told him, "On my way to see you, I heard her brewing a potion, Cutecura, which I thought was brave of her given last month. She had Potter's tie wrapped around her hand. It was soaked with blood. The Cutecura did not work on her, so I brought her to my chambers."

Dumbledore closed his eyes in exacerbation.

Snape didn't stop. "I went through two other healing potions that did not work, and her body rejected the blood replenishment. Tergum, however did work. I will give some and others like it to Madam Pomfrey in case she gets injured again."

"Severus," Dumbledore started as if he were lecturing an ill behaved student, “Your interest in her has to stop--”

“I do not have any kind of interest in her!” Snape cut across angrily, “You assume because she has
certain... similarities to Lily that I have some kind of weakness for her when in reality she was out past curfew in my classroom brewing a potion that nearly killed her to heal an injury given by a teacher that would not stop bleeding. What do you want me to do, Albus? Give her another detention? Give Dolores Umbridge another reason to remove her from Hogwarts?”

“At the very least you could not have brought her to your chambers!” Dumbledore snapped, “If the parents found out, her parents or others, they could call for your resignation. If you do not work so closely to me as you do now, you are no use to Voldemort as spy and will have no information as our spy. You know the risks involved with changing anything yet you ignore them!”

Closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, Snape took a deep breath. He knew Dumbledore was right. It happened so often he really hated it. Clearly she had some kind of problem, but even if she had more issues than he did, she wasn't worth losing everything he and the Order had done so far.

“She won't tell anyone,” he told the headmaster a touch softer, “I asked her not to and told her I would tell you. She agreed. Besides, I do not think she has many friends, if any at all.”

Dumbledore sighed, “All she has to do is mention it, come to your defense in the slightest, and that is what she will be known for, liking you when no one but the children of Death Eaters do. What does that say about her? Do you want her friends with those students? If she has no friends, she will latch onto the first people who accept her, just like you did.”

The truth behind his words made Snape flinch. From what little he knew of her, she was not arrogant. She had a plan. She knew what weighed on her graduating from Hogwarts—her entire life, and she wasn't stupid or impressionable enough to jeopardize it.

“There is nothing you can do now, Albus. It already happened. It will not happen again, and I will give Poppy all the potion she needs for any possible injury so that Natalie will have no reason to come to me except for class. Does that satisfy you?”

Dumbledore sat in silence, leaned back in his chair, watching Severus over the rim of his glasses. Severus waited for several seconds but had no more patience to deal with the old man. He stood and swept out of the office without giving a farewell. A few minutes later, two unfortunate students out after curfew were sent back to their houses in tears.