Forgiveness

This chapter was beta'ed by Drusilla of Perfect Imagination.

Thanks for the kind comments on the last two chapters.

Chapter 20

Severus awoke before the sun rose and knew that the day was going to be a bad one. The harsh feeling of burning flesh that constantly tingled in his extremities was already spreading far up his limbs. He eased himself out of bed, wincing as his feet touched the warm wooden floor. He fumbled in the bedside table for the potions he kept on hand for nausea and pain and downed them in two swift jerks of his head. He followed his treatment with a shot of Firewhisky; the spirits aided the rapid distribution of the pain potion. Shuddering against the burn of the alcohol, he waited as the pain dissipated to a manageable level. It was never gone these days, just a dull ache that he could deal with. This sensation, however, was the worst he had felt in years. He thought the rapid change in temperature of the last evening might have something to do with the increase of his symptoms. Oklahoma, in early autumn was apparently unstable. Two nights ago, it had been balmy, almost hot. Last evening, he and the children had huddled under mattresses in the hallway as a cold front moved in rapidly and created the ideal circumstances for a tornado. The greenish-black funnel cloud had passed overhead, skipping over the compound leaving little but wind damage in its wake.

He showered and then went to the kitchen, his movements achingly slow and deliberate. He started the fire under the kettle for his morning tea.

Poppy had warned him about the progression of his symptoms from the excessive amount of Crucio he had received and Severus had chosen to ignore her, as he had disregarded much of her medical advice over the years. He had a job to do and could not shirk it, no matter how painful it became. Therefore, the torture would continue, as the Dark Lord had seemed to want to cure his most brilliant follower of his unfortunate birth. If there were a new curse or variation of a curse to be tested, the resident half-blood, no matter how brilliant and valued, would be the recipient. Most of that had changed with Severus’ murder of Albus, but by then the damage had been done. Each successive curse after that time just picked away at Severus’ health, until during his tenure as Headmaster, Poppy, who had been in on Dumbledore’s plot from the beginning, had said there was nothing more to be done. Eventually Severus would require constant care and be confined to a wheelchair. It was inevitable.

He often thought that if there had been another choice…

Severus cut the thought off brutally. There had been no choice for him since that Halloween night when Lily was murdered. He stopped in mid-stride, waiting for the familiar ache that thoughts of her always brought. It never came and he was shaken to the core. Lily was his reason for living for all those years. He had never abandoned her, not even when she turned from him. He found himself sinking to a chair, shocked as he tried to dredge the feelings of inadequacy and loss up that his iconic version of Lily invoked, but nothing came. It scared him, and Severus had had enough of being frightened and in pain. The kettle began its whistling blare and he stood up unsteadily to take care of it.

Severus saw Stella off to school, masking his pain while he braided her hair. His hands were steady, but he could hear the whisk of his blood in his veins, a throbbing punctuation of each movement. Stella kissed him and then left the cottage for the main building to Floo to school. Severus leaned against the cool pane of glass of the bay window-seat. His hair was limp with sweat and a thin sheen of perspiration covered his face. Joseph Pony came to the door of the parlour. "Hey, Da-- Uh, Uncle 'Rus. I'm gonna to eat in the commissary with Charmaine. You wanna join us?"

Severus shook his head slowly, “No, thank you."

"You better eat, 'cause Antonia'll have my hide if you've lost weight while she's gone to Chicago. You already look a little pale." Joseph Pony grinned to ameliorate the effects of the words. "How 'bout I bring something to the lab? That way, when Antonia gets back she'll see you've eaten."

"That would be acceptable," Severus answered, his mind on the painful trek to the outbuilding. "Thank you, Joseph Pony."

The boy winked, his teeth flashing white. "You're welcome, Mr. Tuvock."

&*&*&

Later in the morning, after hours of the boy's worried hovering and constant queries after the Potions Master's health, Severus sent Joseph Pony from the lab on the pretext of doing an inventory on his private stock of potions ingredients. Only when the boy had left the room with a great deal of effusive solicitude, did Severus give in to the pain. Between tearing bouts of retching into a rubbish bin, he cursed breathlessly and rocked back and forth. The pain had never been this bad, not without a recent application of the curse that caused it.

He heard the doctor’s tread coming down the hallway and he struggled to sit up. He had hoped he would be over the pain by the time she returned from Chicago. The odour of acid and vomit hung in the air He was sitting upright as the door opened, but was still shaky. “I hope your trip was constructive.”

"Oh, it was just great. I had to inform the big guys I had dismissed yet another Potions Master, and hired one on my own. They loved that. Oh, and I had to Obliviate the man from HR that hired you. Other than that, everything went well." She answered breezily after kissing him on the cheek.

"You are quite ruthless, Madam," Severus observed, more to fill the void in the conversation than to comment on her lack of compunction about doing dark deeds. She waggled her eyebrows and twisted a pretend handlebar moustache, before shivering in the cool of the room.

“Jesus, it’s cold in here." Antonia laid a cool hand on his neck. "You’re… burning up.”

He pretended interest in the parchments before him. The black words blurred and squiggled on the page. Severus fixed what he hoped was a pleasant expression his face and turned to her with blind eyes. He had done this before and he could do it now, he told himself. He had had years of practice masking the after-effects at Hogwarts in front of dunderhead students, no less. She took his face in her hands, turning it toward the light. “How long have you been like this?”

“I…” he began before being hit by a more violent wave of pain. He doubled over with the extremity of it.

“Jesus. Severus, just sit still. I’m going to do something for your pain.”

Severus felt the first wave of magic wash over his skin and knew the spell she cast was a Dark one. This was followed by a second wave, still Dark, but less so than the one before. As the third spell was incanted, he was blessedly released from his agony and was left with the wrung-out feeling of the battle. Antonia moved to his field of returning vision. She pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at his lips. The cloth came away bloody. He had bitten his tongue. “I can’t leave this set of charms on long. I need you to tell me, on a scale of one to ten, how bad was your pain just now?”

“I‘m fine,” Severus ground out, his voice sludgy in his ears.

Antonia let out a noisy breath in exasperation. “One to ten, Severus. I don’t need your macho bullshit right now or your English stiff-upper-lip.”

Severus felt his lips twitch in amusement, almost giddy from the relief of the pain. “Fifteen, maybe sixteen. It’s only been this bad once before without the Curse.”

“Thank you. Admitting that wasn't so bad, now, was it?" She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘dumb-ass’ under her breath. "Do you think you can stand if I release the charms?”

“They were Dark,” Severus observed as he tried to turn the focus of the conversation from his failings. “The charms.”

Antonia ground her teeth visibly. “Most Healing spells are based on Dark ones. They have to be to be so invasive. Can you answer my question, please?”

“No,” Severus said. Antonia frowned, telegraphing her question. Severus felt a wave of amusement well up in him. He breathed out. “I mean: No, I cannot stand if you release the spells.”

&*&*&

Poppy peered at him over the tray of potions she carried. Her tart presence and curt demeanour was balm to Severus’ already short temper. She treated him as he wished to be treated, no pitying sighs or watery smiles. “What curses this time, Severus?”

“The usual and no exotic variations. I was fortunate. Oh, and a new one you may not know of. A cutting curse,” Severus answered as he slowly lowered himself to the waiting white-draped bed. “Fucking Potter.”

Pomfrey’s cheeks dimpled in consternation as she began divesting Severus of his Death Eater garb and shirt. Her acerbic question rang out in the infirmary, “What has Harry Potter got to do with a new curse that giant horse’s arse used on you, may I ask?”

Severus thought that Poppy Pomfrey was either the bravest or stupidest woman in the world, maybe both, to even refer to the Dark Lord in such a manner. That is why he appreciated her on these late-night forays.

She pulled his shirt up and hissed as she saw the long, red welt that nearly bisected his body. “Don’t worry, I knew the counter curse,” Severus explained. “It just needs an application of tincture of Dittany.”

“Is this the same one that was used on Malfoy a few weeks back?” Her sharp eyes darted to his face. She was still angry about Severus’ high-handed refusal of her services on the Slytherin. Severus pressed his lips together. She darted her hand out to his chin. “I’ve known that look since you were a first-year and you came in here after those you fought those boys. Severus Snape, what have you done?”

He feigned innocence for a moment but then let his expression harden. “Nothing you need to know, Poppy.”

She tsked but said no more as she Accio’ed and then began applying the Dittany in large, cooling swathes across his skin. “Take your potions before I strap you down and bypass that nasty mouth of yours.”

Severus downed the contents of the bottles, smacking his lips after each vile tasting concoction. The mediwitch paused in her ministrations to hand him a tumbler filled with Albus's best Firewhisky. "Drink."

Severus did not have to be told twice. He knocked back a good portion of the amber liquid and settled in for the next few hours, grateful in his own snarky way for Poppy's care.

"Ah, Poppy, being under your kind auspices reminds me of my own mother's care." He smirked as her back straightened.

"Don't insult me, Severus," she warned as she plumped his pillows. "Your mother was a nasty piece of work when we went to school, and after as well.”

"That she was, Poppy." He took another long draw on the tumbler, letting the burn warm him. As the mediwitch left the room, he thought he might have heard her cursing.

&*&*&

"Are you sure, Severus?" The dull roar of pain gnawing at him like starving Nifflers had muffled Antonia’s voice. He gave a sharp nod and stood, leaning heavily on her much shorter shoulders. "Severus, just let me levitate you to the office."

He gripped her shoulder tighter in response. "I don't want... Joseph Pony..."

"I don't know how he doesn't know you're sick since he's not blind. You're sweating like a pig and white as a sheet." Severus sneered his response. "Okay, so maybe I'll never be a writer with original analogies like that."

They struggled across the compound and into the main building containing the Floo. "Now will you let me?"

Severus nodded and Antonia transfigured a chair into a stretcher. "Lie down and I'll cast a Somnulus Spell. I'm afraid Floo travel will hurt you too much."

Severus began worrying his lip again. He absolutely hated being this far out of control. Antonia squeezed his hand and helped him to the prone position. She gave him a small smile. "You really are impossible, you know?"

"It's my forte." Severus closed his eyes and felt the spell wash over him. Blackness ensued.

&*&*&

He awoke belly down on a soft, Muggle exam table, completely pain free. When he attempted to sit up a soft, golden hand stopped him. A moderately accented female said, "No, Mr. Snape, don't move."

A tiny woman with Asian features and sharp white teeth moved into his field of vision. “I’m Dr. Nguyen. I’ve placed you under a few spells right now, but I’ll need to lift them soon. I have done some diagnostic spells on you and have decided the best course for your treatment is acupuncture. Are you aware of what that entails?”

“Needles,” Severus answered with a shudder. He had hated needles since he was inoculated as a child.

“Yes,” Dr. Nguyen answered as she pulled an example out of her lab coat. “These are special needles, designed to enter the skin without causing pain. I’ll also be administering morphine subcutaneously and casting some spells to regulate your Chi flow. You will have to return every week for a month and we’ll see what happens after that. I would like to give you your first treatment now. Do I have your consent?”

“Where is Antonia?”

“I’m right here, Sweetheart,” she answered. She bent to eye-level and gave him the watery smile he so dreaded. She ran a hand through his hair, letting her nails scrape his scalp. “What do you need?”

Without volition his mouth opened and he uttered, “You.”

“Okay.” Antonia smiled again, stronger this time. “I’ll stay with you. Will you let Doctor Nguyen do her work now?”

Severus gave his silent assent, and the spell was lifted. He kept his black eyes on Antonia’s face. She was his lifeline as the pain ate up his backbone and into his brain. He heard the Asian doctor say, “I’m going to do something to increase your appetite. You're seriously underweight.”

She pulled a small vial from her pocket and filled a syringe with liquid. She pulled his underwear down on his hip. "A little sting and you'll start feeling drowsy; don't fight it."

Severus moaned as the narcotic hit his system and drifted to sleep.

&*&*&

Severus’ third year began with a trip to the hospital wing rather than the feast in the Great Hall. Lily had left him to his own devices as she skipped off the train with two of her Gryffindor friends. Severus was late changing, and so had gone into the toilet last. He had no desire for the other students to see the mass of bruises covering his legs and up his back. The last week at Spinner’s End had been sheer hell. His father had gone on a bender after losing yet another job and he had taken most of his wrath out on Severus. His mother had failed to intervene, yet again, and so Severus was left to deal inexpertly with his own injuries.

When he stepped out of the small cubicle, hair carefully slicked back with water, and his face relatively clean, a spell hit him in the chest, knocking him back into the hardwood door of the cubicle. As he struggled to draw a breath into his sore lungs, he attempted to pull his wand from the sleeve of his robes, but it was tangled in the sagging hem of the robes that had come undone. He had meant to repair it after his mother had purchased it in a second-hand shop, but was too busy being used as a punching bag by his father instead.

He finally drew a shaking breath as his wand came loose. Another spell arced toward him, and he rolled, groaning as his face came in hard contact with the floor. He hissed, “Potter.”

“Guess again, Snivellus,” Black said, stepping out from an empty compartment. The Gryffindor cast again, but Severus was quicker with his wand.

“Levicorpus!” Severus shouted. The force of the spell knocked Black against the side of the car, and Severus ran, afraid he had done some real, punishable damage to the Gryffindor.

He had made it to the feast, but after several odd looks from the Head table, and fleeting pains that became more insistent as the minutes ticked by, he excused himself.

Madam Pomfrey appeared to be waiting for him. She ushered him to a clean bed and asked as she lifted his shirt, “Severus Snape, what have you done?”

It was always thus with him. He was always accused of being the aggressor. He had thought Madam Pomfrey was different. He pulled his shirt down and stood to run out of the room. She stopped him with a tart, “Sit, young man, or I will put you in a full Body-Bind.”

Severus complied with dragging feet and a heavier heart. Tears of frustration pooled in his eyes, but the mediwitch ignored them. “Was it your father this time, or your mother?”

“I was just clumsy.” Severus shrugged out of his shirt.

"Time and again, it seems," she muttered, then made a clucking sound with her tongue as she ran her hand over his face. “The ones on your face look fresh. Did they all gang up on you this time?”

“No.”

The mediwitch paused in her inspection. “Well, which one? The Headmaster must be informed before he can put a stop to all this bullying.”

“It won’t do any good.” Severus felt his shoulders sag in defeat. Headmaster Dumbledore was most decidedly not going to punish a Gryffindor for picking on a Slytherin. “Please, Madam Pomfrey, it will just cause other problems.”

“Well, don’t you go taking care of them yourself.” The witch rubbed some stinky potion over his face. “I won’t stand for you bullying them either.”

“Yes, madam.” Severus closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall. Third year was going to be just smashing.

&*&*&

Severus drifted in and out of consciousness during the procedure, aware that he clung to Antonia's hand throughout. Dr. Nguyen worked in near silence, punctuating the work she was doing with commentary only when Antonia enquired about a particular point of interest. At the end, after removing all the needles, the Asian doctor scratched something on a pad and tore it off with a flourish. "I want you to give him this in four hours. The Apothecary next door carries it."

Antonia pocketed the paper and then ran her hand over Severus' brow. "Is there anything else I need to do?"

"He'll need to be monitored tonight. The combination of the morphine, Demerol and the potion might depress his respiration." Dr. Nguyen tore off another sheet. "This is for the Demerol. Two capsules as needed every four to six hours. You know the drill. Make sure he takes it tonight, at least." A third paper was handed off. "This is his standing appointment. Every Friday, noon, if that's not convenient, I'll have to juggle my patients. I haven't seen a case of Cursing this severe since Africa. Can you tell me how he got this damage and that Protean Charm on his arm?"

"I'll let him decide whether he wants to tell you or not," Antonia replied. "We'll make the time work. Thanks, Phuong."

"Toni, be careful," Nguyen sighed. "He's an awful lot like Thierry."

Antonia's clothing rustled in the stillness of the room. "In some ways, yeah. In other ways, not at all."

"Still, he's used a lot of Dark Magic," the Asian doctor observed. “It makes me wonder what he intends with you.”

Severus drifted off to sleep once more, puzzled by the import of the last words spoken.

&*&*&

He settled into his bed after Antonia brought him home and expertly stripped him of his clothing over his weary protests. He absolutely hated being drugged like some Muggle. She forced the prescribed potion on him and then the two pills. He was suddenly boneless and nearly pain-free. "I'll be back, Severus, I need to get us something to eat. Will you be okay?"

He grunted, stoned beyond what he had ever experienced before. She smiled and with a kiss said, "Eloquent as always."

&*&*&

Severus woke to gentle pressure on his chest and a numb arm. He struggled to sit but was constrained by the softly snoring body of the sleeping doctor. She snuggled into him, “You need something?"

What Severus needed was the loo, but what he wanted he would not dare ask, even with the temptation of her soft curves pressed against him and her alarmingly trusting position in his arms. He feathered a kiss over her hair, messy from sleep. His voice came out a low rumble, "I need the loo."

Antonia muttered a spell and suddenly the pressure of his bladder lifted. "No walking until morning. Doctor's orders."

She stretched and he caught a glimpse of pale, freckled belly and white skin. "Do you need some more of the Demerol?"

"No, my dear,” Severus’ gaze followed her as she arched gracefully to a seated posture.

Antonia leaned against his headboard, letting her hand drift to his hair. "Was that an endearment coming from you?"

"What is this world coming to?" he chuckled softly, his tone slightly teasing. "I believe it was."

Antonia settled next to him again. "Severus, when did you want to talk to my father?"

"Why?" He was suddenly alert.

Antonia began a maddening exploration of his neck with her lips and tongue. She paused only long enough to say, "I'm ready for those further intimacies. It's been a long time for me."

Severus pulled her closer, feeling the rightness of her in his arms, Lily Evans only a soft memory in the dim light of the moon. "I think we can forego that stricture in our arrangement for now, if you're willing.'

Her only answer was a soft sigh as her hand quested downward. Severus eased into her touches with his own, pulling at her nightshirt, cupping a soft breast, kissing the spot between her neck and her shoulder. She shuddered under his ministrations and as he entered her, she whispered into his ear, "I think I love you, Severus."

He answered her with his body, unable to dash her burgeoning feelings with his own deficiency. Lily would always be his first love.

Yet, as they reached culmination together, he realised that if he had a first love, he might be able to have a last one. The idea jolted him to a disturbed state of wakefulness as Antonia cuddled into him, her body warm from their activities.

When had he started wanting to live?

&*&*&

Phuong: Fung. Phoenix.

Nguyen: Pronounced something like Ween or Win. A common surname in Vietnam.