Secrets in the Dark

When Severus awoke it was to the blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

"How do you feel today, Severus?" There was genuine concern in the old wizard's voice. Severus wanted to answer, but there was no voice there. Only an unintelligible, rasping croak followed by a whacking coughing fit that caught him by surprise, and left him gasping for air.

"Steady, steady now. Here, my son, drink a bit. This will do you good." The Headmaster slid a supportive arm behind the sick wizard's neck and raised his head to a steaming cup of herbal tea. It smelled of sage and honey. He was thirsty, indeed. He could have drunk an entire river. But after a few sips he was too tired to even swallow. He closed his eyes again and sank back into the softness of the pillows, the Headmaster's concern like a warming blanket around him. He had called him 'son' ...

*******

The next time he woke up, Dumbledore wasn't there. But he could discern a softly snoring figure resting in the armchair by the fireplace. The mild winter sun shone through the narrow window, and he could see the sky, a stripe of immaculate azure. Like Dumbledore's eyes. The unfamiliar room was small and sparsely furnished. But it was definitely not one of the wards in the hospital wing, he was sure about that. Besides the picture of some lonely, rugged coast and a troubled sea - a stark contrast to the lovely weather outside - there were no personal things. A guest room, perhaps? On the bedside table were many phials filled with various healing potions and, gratefully, he noticed a mug filled with tea. It was the same sage-honey blending, and it was still hot.

Severus sat up a little and reached for the mug. He also felt very hungry, all of a sudden. But he didn't want to wake up the sleeping witch. Instead, he leaned back and enjoyed the tea and the quietude. It would be over soon enough, he was sure of that. They would interrogate him again, stir up all those images of burning houses, Muggles writhing in agony, wizards and witches killed in a flash of green light. And the Dark Mark blasphemously marring the velvety dark of the night sky. No, he would not think of this, yet. He would cherish the short time of peace that was granted him before returning to his personal hell. Just a few minutes of peace ...

But the beast in his mind was already awake, releasing a surge of self-accusation and guilt that could not be dammed up. The flood advanced on him full force without mercy. Severus closed his eyes again, trembling with the turmoil of emotions, droplets of perspiration appearing on his temples and brow. He moaned in exasperation.

*******

The sound of muffled sobs mixed with painful coughing awoke her from her slumber.

"Severus?" Professor McGonagall asked softly, her gaze directed towards the place where the sounds came from. The sick wizard had buried his face in the white pillows, his entire body shaking with agitation.

"Severus, what's wrong?" Minerva approached the bed and put an arm around the sorrow-stricken man's shoulders.

"The Kiss. I want the Kiss," he whispered hoarsely, suppressing another rattling cough.

"You don't know what you are talking about! You are feverish again, Severus!" the Professor exclaimed, deeply shocked by the young man's request.

"No, I deserve it. I've done terrible things. They come to haunt me ..." More sobs and coughs.

"Please, try to calm down, you will only make yourself sick again. I'll get Madam Pomfrey. She'll give you something so you can sleep."

*******

When the Mediwitch entered the sick-room, she found her patient in Minerva's arms almost coughing his lungs out. He was deathly pale, his haggard face glistening with perspiration and not yet dried tears, his pitch-black eyes feverish and full of anguish and despair.

The Mediwitch had a fair idea about what was going on in her patient's agitated mind. He had talked a lot in his feverish dreams. Incoherently, most of the times. But she had learned a lot about him, nevertheless. That she had indeed been correct with respect to her strong suspicions towards Severus's father, for example. The boy hadn't fallen down the stairs but had been beaten up so badly that he had almost died of the injuries. By his own father. She had talked to Albus about her suspicions then, but neither of them had taken any action to protect the boy from his abusive family. But why hadn't they? Because he was only a hopeless Slytherin? Because he had grown up at Knockturn Alley and had known more curses prior to entering Hogwarts than most of the students at their graduation? Had they given up on the boy from the very beginning, she, Dumbledore, and the rest of the staff? And now, he had become a Death Eater, a murderer marked by "You-Know-Who." She had seen the ugly mark grow back on his bandaged arm as clear and vicious as ever ...

What was it called again? - Pygmalion effect, that was it. Self-fulfilling prophecy. They had expected Severus to succumb to the Dark arts, to seek out the enemy, and he had just fulfilled their expectations. And they had never done anything to prevent it, none of them. Were they guilty, too?

"I think, I'll have one or other word with Albus on the issue," she mumbled to herself, then approached the bed and produced another phial with a light-blue liquid from the pockets of her apron.

"Here, drink this, my lad. It will drive away the nightmares and ease the cough." It was a strong sleeping potion combined with a cough suppressant, much stronger than she felt comfortable with, but the young man was so shaken, a mild concoction of valerian would never do. She'd have to carefully monitor his sleep, so she could detect any negative effects on his liver early and take the appropriate countermeasures. Another sleepless night, then. She sighed. Luckily, there would be Christmas holidays soon with only a handful of students left at school, and she would have ample time and leisure to catch up on her sleep. When this mess was over.

"You can leave now, Minerva, you don't want to miss the last Quidditch match, do you? Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, isn't it?"

"You have watched all night already, Poppy, you are supposed to rest."

"I will, I will. Severus will sleep like an angel till next morning at the least, so I can take one nap or another. Don't worry. And enjoy the game!"