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“Severus, what happened?” Poppy asked, bustling around the Infirmary, trying to assess the damage to Severus’ nose.
“Grhump,” he snorted in response, giving her the evil eye as she cast an Episkey on it. She was undeterred, already used to his terrible disposition as a patient.
“Could you please elaborate on that?” demanded the Matron, siphoning away dried blood from his face.
“I could, but I don’t want to,” he replied before snapping his jaw shut.
“Severus Tobias Snape, don’t you dare to take that tone with me,” retorted Madam Pomfrey putting her hands on her hip. “I’m trying to help you here. Now, tell me what happened.”
Severus’ shoulders slumped as he muttered, “I’ve been an idiot, Poppy.”
“Could you please be a bit more specific which instance you are referring to?” she asked, healing a scratch on his face.
Severus shot her a dirty look, but complied. “I let my guard down at the latest Order meeting, and someone landed a Truthfulness curse. I suspect the youngest Weasley boy, he had been very vocal about me belonging in Azkaban.”
“Severus, a Truthfulness course doesn’t cause a broken nose, a black eye, a split lip or any of your other injuries,” she insisted while dabbing anti-bruising paste around his swollen eye.
“You should see the other guy. Well, guys and Molly.”
“Severus. What. Happened.”
He winced as she treated another cut, but finally answered. “I don’t know when I was hit with the curse. I only noticed that something was off when Molly asked me how I liked my coffee, and I told her with three sugars, a lot of milk and a dash of fudge-flavoured syrup.”
“But Severus, you always take your coffee black, small and strong.” He looked at his colleague with narrowed eyes, which was quite a feat given how swollen the left one was. “Oh. Sorry. I understand. Please continue.”
“Molly didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong, so she blabbed about if I liked my Christmas gift. So I told her that the cookies were stale, and as ugly as the Weasley sweaters are, I find it hurtful to be the only one not gifted one.” His lips twitched. “Not that I would wear it. Well, understandably Molly looked horrified, but young Mr Weasley jumped in immediately to ask me why I joined the Death Eaters, so at least I didn’t have to deal with her reaction.”
Poppy clapped her hand against her mouth. Given Severus’ history with his bullies, stripping away his privacy like that was probably the worst thing Mr Weasley could have done to him.
“Severus… I’m so sorry. That’s… unthinkable.”
“So I was forced to tear my soul open in front of everyone and told them the truth. That my mum was a pureblood witch. That she was kind to me, and tried to protect me as best she could. But… that my father, a muggle, kept beating me, that the kids of the neighbourhood punished me for being weird and different, that Lily’s sister, Petunia verbally abused me and made fun of me. They taught me early on that muggles were going to hurt me if they could.” Severus recounted the events in an emotionless voice, staring at his own knees.
“I told them that on my very first train ride to Hogwarts, the Marauders taught me that those who stand up for muggles hated me even more and would hurt me, just because I existed. They kept repeating that lesson nearly every day for seven years. That Lily taught me, before I ruined everything between us, that I wasn’t like her other friends, that I was an embarrassment to her, that I wasn’t good enough to be introduced to her other friends. That Minerva, Horace and the Headmaster taught me that I couldn’t trust those who were supposed to stand up for me. They taught me if you weren’t in Gryffindor you weren’t worth protecting. Then, in my fifth year my dad beat my mum so badly that she died. And the Ministry did nothing. And they taught me that the officials didn’t care. That no one cared, that the only one I could count on was me. So when I left Hogwarts and a charismatic, powerful man promised me the power to be able to protect myself from those who kept hurting me, I took it.
I realised pretty soon that this wasn’t what I had signed up for, that the Death Eaters did to the muggle-borns exactly what I was subject to for years, only, even worse. But… it was still better to witness the horrible crimes then be the target of them, so I stayed. Until I realised I brought Lily in danger, but then it was too late.”
“Oh, dear. I’m so sorry, Severus.”
“Well, Miss Granger proceeded to tell Mr Weasley off for having less common sense than a Mountain Troll and less human decency than a Flobberworm. Molly attempted to defuse the situation by telling me that my circumstances used to be awful and my youth was terrible and tragic, but it should be all right now because I found friends in the Order. And, well, that didn’t quite sit well with the curse. So I told her not to insult my intelligence by pretending that I didn’t notice how people still whisper behind my back, how Potter, Minerva and Miss Granger were the only ones to apologise to me let alone thank me, that I didn’t know that there were Order meetings planned specifically to exclude me, that most of them were barely civil even to my face.”
“I don’t think that went down well,” the Matron said, squeezing his shoulder gently.
“You could say that. Molly got all miffed and told me that I was very difficult to be nice to let alone like, and I should be grateful to be allowed back into the meetings at all after what happened with Albus and George Weasley’s ear and I should be the one grovelling for their forgiveness.” Poppy was one of the very few people who actually knew just how hard it had been on Severus what the late Headmaster demanded him to do. The utter lack of care Albus had shown for Severus’ mental and physical well-being still made her blood boil, and hearing it thrown so casually and accusatory in his face made her want to grab her wand and march over to the Burrow and do something that would land her in Azkaban.
“She demanded to know if I hated the Order so much why I still kept coming to the meetings. So I told her. That I was worried for Miss Granger, because how Mr Weasley treats her reminds me of how my dad treated my mum. Especially since Mr and Mrs Potter announced their pregnancy, he seems downright fanatical to have his own progeny with her. The nagging. The guilt-tripping, the ganging up on her, the passive aggressive comments, the emotional blackmail. I see so much of my father in it, it’s frightening.
I was relieved when Miss Granger sent the Weasley boy on his merry way after a particularly vile row they had, but I was still concerned for her safety, especially seeing the love bombs he kept dropping, denying any wrong-doing, reversing the situation and painting himself as the victim. I told them that I noticed that Molly was also especially vocal and domineering in her opinion on how everyone should lead their lives, including young Mr Weasley and Miss Granger.
With all the guilt-tripping from the other Weasleys, I was worried they would convince her she was in the wrong, that she owed him anything and she would take that buffoon back. And I wasn’t going to just stand by and let that happen to another witch, not if I could help it.”
Severus, I’m glad I’m not the only one who noticed this. I was worried that all her friends seemed oblivious to what was going on,” explained Poppy. “Sadly I wasn’t close enough to any of the children to intervene, not since Mr Potter graduated and stopped ending up in my care,” she added, pulling out a tiny glass shard from one of Severus’ wounds.
“Thank you, Poppy, though I don’t think it would have made much of a difference if you did try. Young Mr Weasley was of the opinion that their interactions were none of my business, that I had no right to even say a word after how I treated them all as students.
“I first laughed at him, though there was no mirth in it, and told him he was fool if he thought I had any choice in how I treated my students, that the esteemed late Headmaster pulled my strings like a master puppeteer, until I have nearly forgotten who I was. That his sister, Miss Granger and even Longbottom understood this.
Needless to say most people present didn’t like hearing that. I would wager there were only a small handful that figured out that I was under the influence of a potion or a curse at all. Hagrid started bellowing ‘Never insult Albus Dumbledore in front of me’, and probably the intervention from Miss Granger and Miss Weasley was the only reason he didn’t trample the rest of the Order to get to me.
Mr Weasley ignored both Hagrid and everything I said, slowly becoming so red with anger that I was worried he would give himself an aneurism and blame me for it. He then reiterated that what was between him and Miss Granger was none of my business, and demanded to know why I would even care about what he labelled their ‘private relationship troubles’.”
Severus buried his face in his hands and Poppy gave him the time he needed. When he looked up again, his eyes looked red and haunted.
“I’m rather certain that his question was rhetorical, but the curse didn’t really care, so I told him because any decent human being should care when they witness abuse. Also, that I wasn’t naïve enough to think that my feelings could possibly be reciprocated, but I… really liked her.
Mr Weasley proceeded to inform me that I was a disgusting old creep lusting after pretty Gryffindors out of my league, and that Miss Granger was all his and I should stay out of their business.
I had disagreed less than politely and tried to make Mr Weasley understand that no one owned Miss Granger, that she was her own person and she could do whatever the hell she pleased, which certainly included dumping his ignorant and abusive arse, and she certainly didn’t owe any grandchildren to Mrs Weasley or anything at all to him.
Well, that’s when Mr Weasley punched me in the nose for good measure and told me she wasn’t mine and to keep my disgusting hands to myself. I stumbled against the glass cabinet and the shattering glass is to blame for most of the scrapes, scratches and shallow wounds. I drew my wand and sent a couple of choice curses in Mr Weasley's direction, who was being held back by Mr Potter at the time. Molly didn’t like that one bit and joined the scuffle to ‘protect her baby’.
The rest of the details are a touch hazy, I distinctly remember stopping Mr Weasley from hitting Miss Granger, which made her join in the fight. I think I got the split lip when Molly elbowed me in the face. At some point Arthur and Kingsley tried to break up the fight without much success. I vaguely recall Hagrid backhanding me, which I think is where I got the black eye, though truth to be told, I’m not sure if Hagrid was aiming for me or if I just got unlucky.
Someone must have alerted the auror office because they rolled in with large numbers, broke up the fight. They took Mr Weasley, Molly and Percy Weasley to St Mungo’s for treatment, and after taking the statement of the others they let us go. I distinctly remember Miss Weasley saying her brother ‘was a complete douche’ and she hoped the aurors would have the good sense to lock him up after he was released from medical care. Personally, I didn’t fancy spending more time in Mrs Weasley’s company so I declined to be transported to St Mungo’s. Well, and now I’m sitting here.”
“Oh, Severus, I-”
“Don’t you dare to say ‘I’m so sorry’ again, Poppy,” Severus cast her a dirty look.
“I was about to say I wished you told me this before I started healing you so I could have made an official compilation of your injuries to support you when you decide to press charges,” replied Poppy indignantly. “You are going to press charges, right?”
“I don’t think I have to. Kingsley was terribly angry and the aurors on scene did an exemplary job of cataloguing evidence and during one of the routine scans the Truthfulness curse popped up too. I’ve never seen him this angry before. He told Mr Weasley just because he was a war hero, he couldn’t do whatever he wanted to. I’m rather convinced that he would be dealing with the consequences of his actions soon. A novelty, really.”
Poppy was about to make sure Severus would not get the little brat to get away with what he had done, when there was a tentative knock on the door. She gave her patient a look that promised him a world of pain if he dared to leave before she was finished, and went to check who was trying to see them.
It was Miss Granger standing in the door, holding a brightly wrapped, lumpy looking package.
“Hi, Madam Pomfrey. I heard that Professor Snape came here. I was wondering… could I please see him?” The young woman looked genuinely worried, biting her lip in nervousness.
“Miss Granger, my dear, you need to stop worrying your lips, it’s a terribly unhealthy habit,” she admonished, opening the door wider for her. “Please do come in, we are nearly finished here.”
The young woman strode into the room with Gryffindor determination.
“Miss Granger,” Severus sounded more tired than anything else.
“Professor Snape. I came to see how you were doing, sir.”
“A bit bruised, but I will survive.” It didn’t escape Poppy that he refused to meet the young woman’s eyes.
“I… I’m glad to hear you’ll be fine, sir,” she said, attempting a smile. “Also, I wanted to thank you for standing up for me. I haven’t realised it, but the constant nagging and guilting was starting to make me doubt if I had done the right thing breaking up with Ron. In all fairness I think Ron is under an immense amount of pressure from Molly to start a family. He wasn’t this eager for children when we just left school. But that doesn’t make any of his behaviour acceptable.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Thank you for looking out for me, and saving me, again. This time from going back to Ron.”
“Don’t mention it, Miss Granger.” The defeated voice and his reluctance to look up worried Poppy more than any of the cuts and bruises she has treated.
“I thought you might like to know that the auror office will be pressing charges against Ron. The rest of what happened in the fight is such a mess that they can’t really pin anything on anyone else, though Ginny, Harry and I offered to testify.”
“That’s hardly necessary, Miss Granger.”
“Well, I disagree,” replied the Gryffindor hotly, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “After everything you have done for us during the war, you would deserve our gratitude and respect, not… this. For the first time, you deserve justice, sir. We can’t undo the horrors of the war, but it’s a start.” Poppy couldn't have agreed more.
“I uhm, also took the time to explain to the rest of the Order what happened. With the curse. Hagrid says he is sorry. Actually, he was sobbing and I needed Harry and Ginny to support me to not collapse under his weight when he threw himself on my shoulder, and he promised to bring you rock cakes, sir. Most of the others are on your side too, sir. Though for the time being neither Ginny, Harry or I are welcome in the Burrow. Harry also said the only Weasleys that are allowed in Grimmauld place are the ones who can pull their heads out of their arses.
When Fleur heard what happened, Bill had to hold her back from marching to St Mungo’s to rip Ron a new one, and Mr Weasley told him he was deeply disappointed in his behaviour, and he didn’t know where Ron learned this, but he seems to have forgotten the public brawl he had gotten into with Lucius Malfoy a few years back.
I don’t know what Professor McGonagall whispered in Ron’s ear before they took him to the hospital, but I have never seen him that scared. Well. Anyway, there are more people on your side than you know. So please, just ignore all the terrible stuff Ron and Mrs Weasley said. They had no right. And also, it wasn’t true.”
Reaching the end of her rant, Miss Granger seemed to lose most of her courage too, but she pressed on through sheer determination.
“I.. uhm.. I also brought you a late Christmas gift, sir,” she said, handing the lumpy package to Severus, biting her lower lip.
“You already got me a book, Miss Granger,” he replied, taking the package, but he made no motion to open it.
“Well, yes, but… it was kind of impersonal, wasn’t it? And well… This isn’t quite as horrible as a Weasley jumper, but I did my best.”
Captiously, Severus opened the wrapping paper and pulled out a lumpy, misshapen, hand-knitted pullover in Slytherin green. There was a silver-grey blotch on the front, but it was impossible to make out what it was supposed to be. He appeared to be lost for words.
“Well, I… I wanted to make sure you felt included. What I’m trying to say is… Well, I really like you, too, sir.” Finally Severus dared to look the young woman in the eye. “And well. I would like to spend more time together, outside of the Order meetings. If you don’t mind. And maybe, if it isn’t presumptuous, I would like it if you could call me Hermione. If you’d like.”
“Miss… Hermione,” Severus replied, hugging the lumpy monstrosity to him. Poppy wasn’t sure if he was trying to hold onto it like a lifeline or if he wanted to hide behind it. Probably both. “I would very much like to spend more time together, but I need to insist that you call me Severus.”
“Severus,” replied Hermione, a brilliant smile lighting up her face. Poppy watched as she gently placed a hand on the Potions Master’s wrist, stepping closer to him. Really close.
Poppy decided to see herself out of her own Infirmary, giving the two of them some much needed privacy. She had a nagging feeling that her colleague needed the kind of healing the young woman could offer him much more than a few more cuts and bruises fixed.