Presents
Severus began to heal with each day. There were still times when he still thought that he was in Azkaban, or that everyone around him were enemies, but the few precious minutes of sanity was steadily increasing.
He finally fully trusted Dahlia when she drank Veritaserum and answered a bunch of questions, including the question where she promised to never hurt him.
And thankfully, he’d agreed.
However, at night, when he was in the most pain and still disoriented, she never knew what he could do. They were working on it, trying to control emotions.
One day, a week and three days from being moved over from St. Mungo’s (and two since Hippocrates came to check on a very flustered, paranoid Severus), Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Luna Lovegood, and Neville Longbottom came to visit him.
The moment they walked through the door, Severus screwed up his eyes, clutched his chest, and forced himself not to greet the five as if they were torturers.
He never told Dahlia- never told anyone , that is, about the horrors he’d endured in Azkaban. They assumed that only the Death Eaters bullied him. Not countless wizards and witches with wands from all over the country.
Numbers 578, 590, 591, 592, and 593.
Severus gritted his teeth, silently counting them, repeating the numbers over and over, trying to find a grip on reality.
“Bloody hell, Professor,” Ron Weasley said shakily, his eyes wide as he gazed at the thin rocking man on the bed.
Severus’s gaze glazed, then refocused, then glazed again. He recognized them, sure. He knew their names, who they were, the numbers that he mentally assigned them to.
Dahlia assured him that whoever is let into the Infirmary is safe, at least under her watch as Hogwarts Matron.
“Potter, Granger, Weasley, Lovegood, and Longbottom,” he rasped in that soft, nearly incomprehensible voice.
“Er- good to see you too, Professor.”
Neville Longbottom positively quivered at the sight of his old Boggart. It had changed after the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. Changed to Bellatrix Lestrange, who’d tortured him and his parents, and who'd made their lives miserable.
“Dahlia!” Hermione Granger beamed, turning his gaze towards Dahlia, who beamed back.
They’d been quite close. Severus supposed that the two were rather alike- from what he’d gathered from Potter and Weasley’s random ravings to Lupin and the others, Granger was intelligent, fun, bright…much like Dahlia. Or Tonks.
Poor Nymphadora, who was taken too early.
He’d taught her, hadn’t he? Didn’t she marry Lupin? Or was it Black?
Severus shook his head, confused by the muddled thoughts around his head. She’d left a son behind. Bear. No, that hardly seemed right. Bear…Teddy…
Ah, yes. Nymphadora’s child was named Teddy.
“Sir?” Harry’s voice jolted him out of his musings.
“Sorry,” he babbled, trying to shake away the fog.
“That’s okay, sir.” It was Longbottom’s voice that surprised him, and surprised all of them.
The boy tried giving him a warm smile.
“It’s not your fault, you know.”
Severus looked at him, puzzled.
“The confusion. My parents’ have got it too. I expect that it’ll go away soon with you, though, because I think you’re slightly better.”
And then he stopped, blushing, and retreated, seemingly shrinking.
“Sorry, sir,” he squeaked.
Severus felt a pang of confusion. Did he scare the boy? He tried wracking his mind… when had he scared him? Merlin, Severus should be scared of Longbottom (which he was, slightly), and not the other way around!
“Nothing, nothing,” Severus said distractedly.
“Wrackspurts got into your head, didn’t they, Professor?” Lovegood said dreamily.
Severus stared at her, trying to remember what Wrackspurts were.
“They’re things that make your brain go all fuzzy,” Lovegood explained happily.
“I’ve always got them now,” Severus wheezed, agreeing. He had this sort of… tolerance for Lovegood. He knew what it was like, being incredibly smart yet left out. And he read her essays, of course, as a teacher. If you had enough patience and enough skill, you could tell that Luna Lovegood made some pretty good points.
Harry had that odd sort of bemused expression on his face at Severus’s words.
“Well, we brought over gifts,” Granger said brightly.
“ I brought over the gifts,” Weasley said, apparently annoyed. “And I had to carry around a bag like a- a girl .”
“You say it like it’s a bad thing!” Granger said with a glare.
Weasley rolled his eyes. He cleared his throat, reached into the tiny bag he had, took out some tiny objects, waved his wand, and opened his mouth-
Granger snatched his wand out of his hands.
“You’re doing the movement wrong,” she scolded. “It’s a flourish, not a wave.”
Weasley turned bright red and began to scowl.
“You do it then, since you do everything around here,” he snapped.
Granger nodded importantly.
She flicked her wand, muttered quietly, flourished her wand, and the items promptly returned to normal size.
“Ah- this one’s from my mum,” Weasley said, still obviously quite angry. He flung the wrapped gift over to the side, which made Granger go, “ Ronald Weasley, you can’t just throw it at him! ”
“That one’s mine.” Potter snatched a small, red parcel off the ground and gave it to Severus.
Longbottom picked up his own present, a very large yet light package, and set it down gingerly.
Lovegood smiled serenely, reached into her pockets, and pulled out her own gift.
“Really, you didn’t have to,” Severus protested weakly.
No, he didn’t deserve this at all.
Not the traitor, not the murderer. Not the evil, greasy bat who killed Albus Dumbledore.
Severus entered another state of nervous confusion.
Dahlia noticed this and shook his shoulders gently.
“You very much deserve these,” she whispered softly into his ear. “Severus, you’re safe. You’re a war hero, remember? No one blames you for what happened.”
“That’s right,” Lovegood said lightly, smiling at them.
Dahlia blinked, momentarily surprised, and then beamed again.
“Open mine first,” Weasley said excitedly, spotting Severus’s uneaten breakfast toast and asking him, “Can I have this?”
At Severus’s nod, Weasley reached forward and shoved it into his mouth.
“Hm. Could use some jam,” he mumbled through a mouthful of food. Hermione glared at him reproachfully.
Severus blinked at the package and reached forward with his trembling left hand and opened it, revealing bags and bags of horrendously bright objects inside of them.
“What… are these?”
“Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes,” Weasley said proudly. “George made most of them himself. Sorts of candy that does good or hinders you. Quite ingenious. Look- there’s my favorite one, it’s awfully good for pranks, it turns the person who eats it into a dazed sort of trance that makes them blurt out random words to make them seem all funny, sort of deranged, really…”
He trailed off at the horrified looks on each of his friends’ faces.
Severus had turned a pale, sickly green and curled up with his knees to his chest in the bed, feeling like it was all a big old joke to them… was that how he was to them, a whining, pathetic lunatic?
“… dazed sort of trance and makes blurt out random words to make them seem all funny, sort of deranged, really…”
Dahlia, sensing a rise in his emotions, plopped down next to him and offered a soothing hand.
“I’m sorry!” Weasley blurted out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it! It was funny, that’s all, it’s usually a laugh!”
“Ronald Weasley! When will you learn that other people have feelings and control your mouth?” Granger swatted at him with a newspaper.
“Ouch! Gosh, you’re like my mum!”
“Er- speaking of Mrs. Weasley,” Potter said quickly, meeting Severus’s shaky gaze and paling considerably himself, “Here’s what she gave you!”
Potter gently set it down on Severus’s bed.
The Ex-Potions Master tried desperately to clear his mind and not make a bigger fool of himself.
But he was tired, and overwhelmed by the people around him. And he couldn’t quite move his fingers the same way that he used to, chopping up minuscule ingredients and nimbly manipulating other sorts of rat tails or frog spawn.
He struggled one-handedly with the package for a good thirty seconds and then gave up, crumpling against the wall with a helpless look on his face.
“Useless,” he muttered angrily, tears sparking in his eyes.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville couldn’t believe what was worse: their skilled Potions Professor being unable to unknot a simple ribbon, or the strong spy crying, or calling himself useless.
“Here, let me help, Severus,” Dahlia said kindly, taking the present gently out of his arms and untying the bow for him.
“And you aren’t useless, Professor,” Lovegood piped up. “You’re healing, aren’t you? You’ll be on your feet and teaching again in no time!”
Molly’s gift turned out to be an enormous mince pie that made Severus’s stomach turn just by looking at it, a nice, light, dark green silk scarf which covered his neck scar nicely without irritating it, and a thicker, heavier wooly blanket that was in the same color, clearly handmade.
“Thank her for me,” Severus rasped.
Weasley nodded, still rubbing his head where Granger had smacked him multiple times.
“Grew this one myself,” Longbottom said proudly, handing over a small plant, which, according to him, was only able to be kept fresh because the package in which he contained it was so large.
“Healing and calming properties,” Dahlia said approvingly. “The scent,” she explained. “It’s rare, these flowers.”
Severus wanted it to be placed next to his bed, which Dahlia did, and he thanked both of them.
“Here’s your memories back,” Potter said brightly, handing over the vial. Severus stared unhappily at the glass, feeling years of suffocating guilt and grief in them.
“You don’t have to take them back now,” Potter said softly. “When you’re ready, that is. Oh, and I brought you some Honeydukes Chocolate.”
Severus nodded, accepting the candy.
He felt like he knew someone who loved chocolate. James Potter? No, he nearly slapped himself- what was wrong with his brain- Lupin! Lupin loved chocolate. Maybe he’ll give it to the werewolf, or even the Bear son the next time he sees them.
Severus didn’t like chocolate too much, so he was more than willing to give it away to someone who actually enjoyed it.
“This book came out a week ago, so I knew you wouldn’t have it,” Granger said happily. “Professor McGonagall said you liked to read. Here it is- One Hundred and One Extremely Difficult Yet Useful Potions .”
“Thank you,” Severus said quietly, although he secretly thought that if he could recover enough to even stand would be a miracle enough.
“I’ve got a book too,” Lovegood said, giving him a strangely wrapped, purple and glimmery gift.
Severus read the cover: Fifty Very True, Very Possible Tales . Written by Xenopholius Lovegood.
“It’s got all of my favorites, too. Daddy wrote all of them, you see. Here’s the one about the Nargles, and the Blibbering Humdinger, and the-”
“Thanks, Miss Lovegood,” Severus interrupted her gently.
“Call me Luna, please, sir!”
They stayed for a little bit longer, with Dahlia giving them some tea and biscuits to go along.
Lovegood- Luna, he corrected himself, even sat herself next to his bed and read the first tale to them all, which did nothing but confuse Severus’s already frazzled thoughts, make Longbottom look nervous, and Weasley shove more food into his mouth.
“We should have the whole Order come here one day,” Potter was saying cheerfully.
“Would you like that, Professor?” Granger asked.
“Sorry, what?” Severus grimaced, trying to clear his muddy thoughts. “What order?”
“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Longbottom said. “My parents are like this, too. When they get disoriented I usually leave. Not that I’m comparing you to my parents, Professor,” he added quickly.
Severus only nodded, the same uncomfortable, blank expression on his face.
They all were pretty quick to leave. Dahlia even pressed more biscuits into Weasley’s hands, which made him beam and his eyes sparkle almost fanatically.
Ron loved food.
“Goodbye, Professor!” Luna called happily as they left. “Tell me what you think of the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks!”
Severus shook his head bewilderedly after her as Daulia let out a laugh.
“You’ve gotta love Luna,” she said breezily. “Well, I’ve got to say, Severus, you did good today. Me and Minerva have been trying to concoct a Mind-Clearing Potion to see if that helps.”
“Mind…Clearing?” Severus’s words were like sludge.
Dahlia gave him a reassuring smile.
“Don’t worry, Severus, you’re in good hands. Now, how about a nap, and then I can read you that… nice book Luna brought?”
“Please don’t,” Severus muttered, and Dahlia spluttered a laugh.
“I’ve got some literature here, as well, do you think you'd prefer that?”
Severus nodded.
“Thanks, Dahlia.”
“No problem. Oh, and by the way, if you don’t like my Muggle literature, I can also read you the full list of each ingredient and all of the directions in Hermione’s book, too.”
This was the first time in a long time that Severus went to sleep with a trace of a smile on his face.