Work Text:
Name: Carpenter, Joseph
Age: 15 years
Height: 176 cm
Weight: 59 kg
Time of Intake: 17 December 1990, 21:03
Case Notes: Fifth-year half-blood Ravenclaw brought in by F. Flitwick in pain and unable to speak or move left arm or leg. Diagnostic tests performed—patient appeared to be paralysed, possibly from sustained nerve damage. Purple mark found on left side of torso between third and fourth rib. Patient submitted to yes-or-no questioning using blinking. Patient had been experimenting with Dark Arts and damage was self-inflicted, but patient did not know exactly which curse was performed—patient transferred to Dark Curses ward. Patient stabilised and put under Draught of Living Death by Healer S. Snape.
And then, in his own sharp, twitchy hand:
Condition is progressing: appears to be slow paralysis originating from the mark on his left side that will likely eventually reach the vital organs. Healing potion has slowed it down, but has not stopped it. Advisable to periodically readminister Living Death to avoid potentially unbearable pain.
Advisable to figure out the source of the damage. Otherwise, the patient probably has about ten days to live.
Something about this case was haunting Severus.
By all means, it shouldn’t have been. He saw innumerable other patients as St. Mungo’s top Dark Curses specialist—including plenty of other dunderheaded Hogwarts students who liked to throw caution to the wind and meddle with things they shouldn’t. Usually that ended with him patching things up and grumbling yet again about how Hogwarts should implement a Dark Arts class if only so he wouldn’t be the one having to clean up all their messes. But things were different this time. There had been plenty of the grumbling, but none of the patching up. And it left Severus feeling emptier and more desperate than it usually did, even if he couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.
He had been working at St. Mungo’s since he started as a Trainee Healer after graduating Hogwarts, so, naturally, he had seen plenty of people die. It was part of the job. It was never easy, of course, but at least when it happened, Severus knew he had done all he could.
And you have for Joseph Carpenter, too, Severus tried to tell himself. And he had. If no one could figure out what sort of curse had caused this ailment, there wasn’t much he could do besides keep the boy comfortable and slow the curse’s progress so there would be time for final goodbyes.
Then, of course, Severus’s eyes drifted to the bottom of the boy’s case file, as they had so many times over the past week the thing had been lying open on the desk in his office:
Visitor Log: 0
Maybe there would be no final goodbyes.
Maybe it was that. Maybe it was the futility of it all, the impossibility of finding a cure when the illness was completely inscrutable, and the idea that no one seemed to care whether he found one or not. That this boy had thrown his life away, and that maybe there wasn’t much to throw away in the first place, but now there was no chance for there to be anything more—and no one seemed to care.
So maybe Severus had to care.
Whatever it was, it had kept him glued to his office when he wasn’t on duty in the ward, searching through his shelves of books for any sort of answer that might save this boy. Hours and hours of research, yet nothing turned up. Perhaps Severus was being just as naive and foolish as the boy had been when he thought that he just needed another few minutes and he’d find the perfect cure or at least what the boy had done to himself in the first place, but he kept thinking it nevertheless, thinking it perpetually in an endless cycle until it was Christmas Eve and it was two and a half hours past the end of his shift and he was still sitting in his office, hair tied back out of frustration, poring over a textbook that was, in all likelihood, completely useless. And he was just about to think it again when the fireplace next to his desk roared to life.
Mildly startled, Severus swiveled around in his chair to face it and felt a wave of relief—of comfort, even—wash over him upon seeing the familiar face of his wife flickering in the flames.
“Lily!” He was so tired, he practically cried with joy upon seeing her.
“Sev!” She responded in kind, then her voice became softer as she seemed to be attempting to mask her disappointment with gentle curiosity. “Are you coming home soon? I thought I would put Iris to bed soon, but if you’re coming, she can stay up a little longer.”
Severus looked at his watch with apprehension, and his heart sank upon seeing 7:34 on the face. His shift had ended at 5:00, having been given the evening off precisely because of his young daughter waiting at home to celebrate her first Christmas Eve with her father. He had told himself he would just do a little more research before going home, but, as it was wont to do, a little more research had apparently turned into a lot more research without him even noticing.
He cursed himself for letting time get away from him like that; there was probably a desperately-needed hot meal and a roaring fire waiting at home, and, far more importantly, a wife and a daughter. Why had he holed himself up in his office, uselessly leafing through textbooks on a holiday night when he was supposed to be home spending precious time with his family? He was acutely aware of how fleeting time was, and how Iris’s youth needed to be held, savored, cherished whenever he could—maybe even more acutely aware than usual of how easily that youth, that innocence, that endless potential, could be squandered in mere moments.
Maybe it was that Joseph Carpenter didn’t have anyone waiting for him. Maybe that was why Severus was here.
“What if she and I came through the Floo? And then we can walk home with you when you’re ready?”
Lily’s voice broke through the haze of despair that Severus had plunged himself into, apparently unresponsive for far longer than he should have been. But of course Lily didn’t need a response to know what Severus needed. She never did. He nodded gratefully, then turned back to his desk to put his things in order as Lily’s face disappeared into the smoke and the flames went out just as quickly as they had appeared.
After a few minutes, the books were in all their proper places on his shelves, still tabbed and scribbled in, but findable for when he next needed them. Severus couldn’t help but wonder if, once he returned from his holiday, that would still be for Joseph Carpenter, or if it would be for someone else, some new patient taking over his room after he was gone. Everything else having been put away, Severus sat down once again to stare at the boy’s file, as if looking at it one more time would somehow, by some miracle, bring him the answers he needed.
He was once again snapped out of his trance by Lily, although this time by her entire body rather than just her head as she stepped out of the fireplace with her hand covering the face of the black-haired baby she was holding against her chest. Although she was brushing the soot off her coat and there was a layer of fine, powdery gray intermingling with the fiery red of her hair, Severus thought she looked just as radiant as ever. And he thought Iris looked like a rather chubby candy cane in the red and white striped onesie Lily had put her in. Still, a cute one, he had to admit.
“Happy Christmas, Sev,” Lily said, leaning over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I hope they haven’t been working you too hard.”
“No, it’s my fault, I’ve just been trying to work on this patient and I lost track of time. I’m sorry.” He reached up and brushed some of the soot off of Lily’s cheek as some sort of act of repentance.
Lily opened her mouth to respond, but closed it and looked over at Iris in mock irritation as she began to fuss.
“Right, you like Dad best. That’s alright, I only gave birth to you!” Lily turned back to Severus and dropped the saccharine sarcasm from her voice. “Why don’t you take her for a bit?”
Severus was, of course, more than happy to oblige, and began bouncing Iris on his lap as soon as Lily handed her over.
“You know, I wish you wouldn’t make your mother feel bad about herself,” Severus said, although his strict facade was betrayed by the growing smile on his face. “But I suppose you’re alright.”
She was more than alright, of course. She was living proof that, despite how bleak things had seemed in Severus’s youth, there was more for him. That he would have something too precious to squander, and that he had been naive to think he wouldn’t.
Of course, it was a bit harder to be sentimental when the precious thing in question grabbed onto his nose with surprising force for an infant.
“Right, that’s why I’m your favorite. I know. I’m just entertainment to you.” Still, Severus was well aware that his stern words were difficult to take seriously when they were said with such a wide grin, and Iris continued to laugh accordingly.
“You’re lucky your hair’s up, she’s been pulling mine all day!” Lily chuckled, leaning against the bookshelf across from him.
“Yeah, sounds about right,” Severus replied, gently pulling Iris’s hand off his face and sitting her down on his lap.
It was then that he really got a good glimpse of Iris’s face, and was able to look into her eyes for a moment. His own, really—the same shape and color but softened by youth. Or perhaps not yet hardened by life. And he knew he would try his damndest to keep her from ever being hardened by life at all. Not the way he was. Iris would want for nothing, she would always know love, and Severus would do everything he could so that she would always have something to hold on to. She would never know the feeling of being utterly alone in the world. Not like he had.
Not like Joseph Carpenter had.
“Shall we start heading home?” Lily suggested, making her way over to Severus and gently brushing a strand of hair out of his face, once again pulling him out of his ruminations.
Right. That was what they were here for. He had done all he could. He had to go home.
Severus nodded and handed Iris over to Lily to be dressed in winter outerwear as he got up and picked his coat up off the desk, muttering “These goddamn robes” under his breath as he buttoned the black coat over his ever-despised lime-green Healing robes.
“Aw, don’t say that, they’d almost be festive if you put a bit of holly right here!” Sporting a teasing grin, Lily pointed to the St. Mungo’s emblem on the left side of his chest, and the playful gleam in her eye only grew stronger when Severus scowled in response (although said scowl was followed by the tiniest hint of a reciprocal smile).
With the three of them ready to make their way back home, Severus finally took one last look at the open case file on his desk and closed it for the night before following Lily and Iris out of the office and locking the door.
Severus knew the halls of St. Mungo’s like the back of his hand, and it should have been the easiest thing in the world to to get from his office to the front desk to sign out, but he found himself lingering by the doorway of Joseph Carpenter’s room, as much as he wanted to put that boy out of his mind for just a day. He mentally scolded himself as Lily, having noticed him stopping, turned around; it was Christmas Eve, he needed to go home and spend the rest of the night with his family!
But maybe it was because it was Christmas Eve that he felt he had to be here.
“Is something wrong, Sev?” Lily asked softly, concern in her eyes.
That was enough to make Severus finally break down.
“This patient. He’s dying and no one has come to see him or asked after him and it’s Christmas Eve and I just-”
“Why don’t we come to see him, then?”
Severus, truthfully, hadn’t thought of that. It was probably quite unethical, seeing as he was a Healer and wasn’t supposed to meddle in the personal affairs of his patients.
Still, maybe it wasn’t ethical, but Severus knew it was right.
He nodded, and entered the room without a word, Lily following closely behind him with Iris in tow. The boy was still comatose and unresponsive, but he wasn’t alone anymore.
“It doesn’t look quite like Christmas Eve in here,” Lily mused, pulling out her wand from her coat pocket and conjuring a holly wreath to hang on the inside of the door. “There. Now it does. Maybe he won’t see it, but I think he’ll feel it.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Severus replied, and pulled out his own wand to dim the clinically bright hospital lights so that the soft glow of the moon was the only thing illuminating the room, bathing the boy’s bed with an almost healing touch. He was still unmoving, but maybe he would be alright for tonight.
“Looks like midnight mass.” Lily chuckled softly, lighting the tip of her wand. “Remember that?”
“Yeah, course.” Severus lit his own wand tip and lost himself in thought for a moment. He wasn’t even sure if he believed in that stuff anymore, but there was really no getting rid of its traces, nor would he really want to—it was home. And maybe it could be home for Joseph Carpenter tonight, too.
Severus didn’t need to say any of that for Lily to know just what he needed. Slowly, softly, she began to sing.
Silent night, holy night
Her voice was bright and clear, like the glittering stars dotting the dark expanse of the night sky.
All is calm, all is bright
His voice was full and deep, like the sacred blackness of the sky itself, the tapestry against which the stars shone.
‘Round yon virgin, mother and child
He sang the harmonies without needing to remember them, they had seeped into his muscles and made their home there.
Holy infant, so tender and mild
He wasn’t alone on Christmas Eve.
Sleep in heavenly peace
He wasn’t alone.
Sleep in heavenly peace.