St. Mungo's
Kingsley managed to keep upright the whole journey, but Korman fell to the ground, wheezing and shaking the dirt off of his robes.
“Unpleasant as ever,” Korman complained.
“He’s still asleep?” Kingsley nodded. “To St. Mungo’s, then?” Korman asked.
“Check for muggles,” the Minister answered, and they both surveyed their surroundings.
“Old lady crossing the street, but we should be out of her line of sight.”
“Baby over there, facing our direction, but he looks like he’s not even one. I think we’re safe, Korman.”
The two wizards nodded, spun, and then Disapparated, appearing miles and miles away at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
“Kingsley!” They looked up to see Remus Lupin waving frantically at them from the other side of the room.
“Thanks, Korman. You can leave us here.” Kingsley nodded at the Auror, who tipped the hem of his hat back.
“See ya, Kingsley.” He glanced down. “And good luck, Mister Snape.”
Kingsley made his way through the crowd over to Remus, who was standing next to Dahlia Skydancer and Harry Potter.
“He’s- oh, Severus!” Dahlia nearly burst into tears at the spot, sparing one glance at the wounded man.
She’d spent a remarkable amount of time with him when he was still with the Order, treating his scars and injuries inflicted on him by Voldemort.
Potter glanced at him and turned green. He watched him die- well, fall unconscious- on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. He couldn’t believe that Snape was actually alive, and for a moment he thought that he was impersonated, but then caught sight of the faded Dark Mark.
Remus grimaced as he looked at the face of his old classmate, coworker, and enemy. Severus looked weaker than he felt during the full moon, and that was saying something.
“They kept him in the same cell as the Carrows, Lestrange, Dolohov, Macnair, and Rookwood. They beat him up and ate him alive. He’s very jumpy. Dahlia, I’ll need you to help the Healers, because they say that they’ve tortured him so much that he won’t let anyone touch him.”
Kingsley walked towards the Welcoming Witch.
“Oh, no, Kingsley,” Dahlia interrupted, making the wizard halt. “You see, when you’ve worked here before, and have friends still here, you don’t have to wait in line.”
Dahlia told the three wizards to follow her and created a path throughout the crowd.
“They’re with me, Lottie!” she shouted to the Welcoming Witch, who nodded, glanced at Severus, and paled. They followed her around the facility, up stairs, and onto the first floor, into the second door on the right. The “Dangerous” Dai Llewellyn Ward: Serious Bites, run by Hippocrates Smethwyck and Augustus Pye.
Dahlia spared no glance at the information and burst into the doors, heading directly to a room which said: “NO visitors allowed. Healers ONLY” and completely ignored that, too. She instructed Kingsley to lie Severus down on one of the beds in the empty ward.
“Er- isn’t this against the rules?” Harry asked nervously.
Dahlia rolled her eyes.
“I’m known around here, they don’t care. Hippocrates quite encourages me to come here more often. But now that I’m busy at Hogwarts, I don’t come here anymore. Plus, Harry, since when have you cared about the rules?”
Seconds later, she got him hooked up to an IV and forced Blood Replenishing potions down his throat, one after the other, then Pain Potions, Calming Draughts, and other things that the other three didn’t even know existed. Dahlia got random bottles of ointments and smeared them onto Severus’s skin, bruises, and scars. They all stood in silence for a while as the swelling on his neck scar went down and the bruises got away, but the crimson words on his chest and forearms refused to budge.
Dahlia stared at it, frowning, and then muttered a string of curse words under her breath.
“Bellatrix’s knife,” she spat, shaking her head in anger. “Hermione’s scar was caused the same way, but hers was healed quicker. Severus’s wound has been here for at least four days. How did she even get a knife?”
Before they could answer, the doors burst open.
“Stop what you’re doing! You aren’t allowed in here, can’t you-”
“Read?” Dahlia finished for the Healer at the door.
“Dahlia!”
The man beamed and lumbered towards her, giving her a warm embrace.
“Haven’t seen you here in a while. And, oh!” He caught sight of the other three standing there looking awkward and confused. “Minister! Pleasure to meet you, I’m Hippocrates Smethwyck. And Harry Potter! Remus Lupin!” He eagerly shook all of their hands. “Good Merlin, is that Severus Snape?”
“We’ve rescued him out of Azkaban,” Kingsley said solemnly. “Eugene Macmillan fed us false information that he was dead. He was locked in a cell with the other Death Eaters and was abused, as you can tell. He’s been asleep for the majority of the journey, but I have his consent to be here.”
Hippocrates was already examining him, brushing his wand against Severus’s body.
“Dahlia- I’ll need that antivenom from Arthur Weasley’s attack,” he instructed.
Dahlia nodded and left to get it. He gestured for them to come closer.
“I’ve put him in a coma for now. He shouldn’t be awake. Look at how his right side is purple. That’s the venom. It’s still inside of him. The reason he survived is because of a piece of a bezoar that he swallowed. My wand told me that. But the venom is taking control of his body. It’s eaten away most of his muscles and caused spasms and cramping to the ones that he still has.”
Smethwyck shook his head sadly.
“It’s a miracle you found him, Minister. Another week and he would have died.”
Dahlia returned with the antivenom. Hippocrates nodded his thanks and poured it down Severus’s throat.
“That’s going to remove most of the venom. But he’s been exposed to it for so long that there will be some remaining.”
“And, er, that won’t harm him?” Harry asked, swallowing.
“No, Mister Potter, I don’t think it will. His body should be able to fight the rest of it away.” Smethwyck gave him a warm smile.
In a matter of ten minutes, Severus’s nails were cleaned, he was in warm, gentle clothes, and his hair was rid of all dust and dirt. Magic was wonderfully helpful sometimes.
“I’m going to keep him in the coma for about five days,” Smethwyck said. “I’ll expect to see you on the seventh, to give him a day for himself?”
Kingsley nodded.
“I will inform the rest of the Order of this,” he said. “Thank you, Smethwyck. The Ministry will pay for his bills, and we will most definitely fire Macmillan. Perhaps even throw him in one of the cells.”