Chapter 2
'I did not know if I could use magic on him, or even just move him', Minerva said, kneeling beside the wounded man. 'I got angry, please do not ask questions. He hurt his head'.
Poppy placed a hand on the Slytherin's forehead. 'He's burning up'. She paused. 'You realise that if he was to be left alone here, his rule over the castle might end soon'.
Minerva shook her head. 'I really don't like to say this, Poppy, but I believe he is the only barrier between the students and the Carrows' madness. And if anything was to happen to him, students might be the target of their retaliation.'
Poppy smiled sadly. She had, of course, already come to the same conclusions, but she needed to hear them from the mouth of another, she needed the small hint of compassion within her to be smothered by reason and reason alone.
They carried him back to bed. He had not moved to the headmaster's apartments, perhaps, as Minerva had wished to believe, out of guilt. His own quarters had always been immaculate: he and Minerva had often had disagreements on the subject, as she had a secret tendency to let things quickly go out of control in her rooms.
'For Merlin's sake Minerva, you are a witch. Is a simple wave of the wand too much to ask from you? I do not expect you will find this book before Christmas. Are you sure you cannot remember the title?'
'I just have my own way to store things. See?' she extirpated the book they had been looking for from under a huge pile on her desk. 'I know exactly where things are'.
'Still, those books should be in your library. Why do you have one if not to store your books?'
Minerva laughed. 'And spend my Sundays making up my own storing system that even our librarian has a hard time understanding? No thank you, dear, I have other hobbies.'
He rolled his eyes.
But his rooms were not so clean now. Only his books were properly stored: he had not read in a while.
Poppy was performing a diagnostic spell on him. His skin now had a greyish, green colour, his cheeks were flushed by a growing fever. The nurse undid the top of his shirt, revealing his bonny neck.
'He is in really bad shape. Worse than I ever saw him before,' she said. 'He has the flu to begin with, which is not surprising at this time of year - but he is also severely underweight and dehydrated. I suppose his immune system is virtually non-existent at this point'. She moved her wand further down and frowned. 'It's an overdose'.
'An overdose?' Minerva repeated.
'A veritaserum overdose. Dear Lord, how was he even conscious in the first place? He should have been passed out from the beginning'.
The transfiguration teacher looked down at the man lying on the bed. 'Is he not supposed to be immune? Why would You-Know-Who do that?'
'It has happened before. The potion's effects still facilitate the Dark Lord's access to his thoughts. One has to be exceptionally powerful and skilled to fight the potion and You-Know-Who's mental assaults at the same time. Severus was. But he is going to be very sick. His body cannot eliminate this amount of potion.'
Minerva shook her head. 'The Dark Lord should know by now that the headmaster is fully loyal to him. No need to go to such lengths. Severus has nothing to hide anymore.' She was angry. She was not sure why. Incoherently, she was thinking that if even killing Albus had not been enough, if even after this Severus still came back from being summoned in such a state... then what was the point? What was it? Now she was confronted with the worst of both worlds, and she could not help but feel that her anger was tied to an unavowable and confused sense of empathy.
'We can still leave him', Poppy said, looking at her.
They were silent for a while. 'Could he die?' Minerva finally asked. Poppy hesitated.
'If you want me to be completely sincere, then I cannot overlook the possibility of him shocking on his own vomit while unconscious or dying the next time his master decides to test him, simply because his body won't be able to sustain any more injuries.'
Minerva nodded gravely.
'Then we will help him, Poppy. At least I will.'
By way of response, the nurse simply opened her bag and took out several potions which she then carefully placed beside the bed. 'Minerva, I know I may seem heartless, but Severus was my friend, too. I took care of him; I saw him in his weakest moments. I thought I knew him. I just cannot allow myself to feel anything else than hate or disgust, because if I do - I do not need to explain this to you.'
Minerva smiled weakly, then moved to her side to help support the man's head. 'You do not need to justify yourself, Poppy. I understand very well.
She cleaned Severus' face with a wet tissue while the nurse forced him to swallow several potions: there was one to settle his stomach, another with nutrients, one to reduce the fever. In a few hours, Poppy would try to administrate a potion to help him expel the veritaserum, then start muggle treatments for his internal injuries, if there were any.
'I saw nothing', Poppy said suddenly, continuing aloud a stream of thought that she could no longer suppress. Minerva did not seem surprised.
'None of us did.' She let Severus' head rest on the pillow. 'And if we couldn't see that our colleague, a friend, was about to betray us, what about our students?'
'I don't want to think about it.'
Poppy got up to fill a glass of water. 'Why won't the man even drink? It is like he does not want to stay alive.'
'He never knew how to take care of himself', Minerva said sadly. They had tried so hard to make him better, to make sure he ate enough, to get him out of his dungeons at least twice a week; they had even sometimes dragged him to staff parties. Then he had killed Albus.
'I'll stay with him tonight if you want', Poppy said. 'I'll just consider it my duty as a nurse'.
Minerva sighed. 'No, I'll stay.'
Poppy studied her colleague's anguished face for a moment, then, guessing her reasoning, simply shook her head.
'Minerva… it is pointless'.
'I have no other reason to take care of him.'
That was what she needed to tell herself. Poppy understood.
'Very well. He may have a concussion, but we will have to wait for him to wake up to be sure. We will wake him in an hour. Try to make him drink water as much as possible then.' She stood up. 'I think... I think I pity him.
'Me, too. And I will hate him only when he tells me he did it cold-blooded.'
They fell silent once more.
'Minerva, even if he did not, the result is the same.'
'I know.'
But that, she could not accept.