Chapter Text
1.
The soft flutter of wings awoke Snape from his sleep. He opened his eyes slowly, and focused them on the thing that’s causing the noise: a barn owl, currently perched on his bookshelf. Snape scowled, casting a quick tempus: 3:07 in the morning. Sighing, he gestured for the owl to come over, and retrieved the letter tied to one of its legs, making a promise to hex whoever sent this into next Sunday if the matter was not the-Dark-Lord-has-murdered-the-entire-population-of-London urgent. These days he wakes early anyways, but having just returned from the Dark Lord’s summon , he would much rather spend his time resting at the Devil’s Hour. Breathing another deep sigh , he opened the envelope, and began reading the extremely lengthy letter, or, tried to. The words swam around in his head, another testament to how truly tired he was after last night’s ordeal.
“I swear if this is another letter from a parent , telling me to change my ways of teaching ,” Snape said, his tone between a whisper and a snarl. Lazily he aimed his wand at the letter.
“Contenutum!”
The letter began speaking, and Snape was a bit surprised at hearing Dumbledore’s voice: So Albus has sent him the letter.
Severus,
I do apologise for sending you this at this time of day, but time is of essence and I’m afraid the matter is too complicated to be explained via a Patronus. This letter has been charmed to permanently turn blank should anyone intercept it midway, and just in case, I’d like you to thoroughly dispose of this after you read it.
Last night, Arabella informed me via floo that Harry Potter’s current residence has been compromised. Apparently, there was an explosion—- at this, Snape’s heart dropped and immediately his mind was fully awake, adrenaline rushing into his veins. If the boy has perished, then all his work for the past decade has been for naught, but the letter continued.
—-the police have determined that it was caused by a gas leak, however whether or not that was actually what had transpired remains to be seen. The boy’s uncle, who was in the house at the time, has been declared dead. Petunia—- at this Snape sucked in a breath. So the boy has been living with that veil woman?
and Harry Potter is still alive, but both are in critical condition.
Snape felt his blood run cold. In critical condition. He barely listened to the rest of the letter, his mind moving on autopilot, packing potion supplies, a travelling cloak, muggle clothing. His mind repeated the contents of the letter, and by the time he was ready to go, he had already sorted out all the information he was given from the letter. A quick incendio and the letter fades into ash. He went over what the letter said again as he walked out of range of the wards of his house: Explosion last night at Harry Potter’s residence , Harry Potter in critical condition , Dumbledore giving him the task of retrieving the boy from the muggle hospital, by all means necessary , he’d said, the strong wards, blood wards, apparently, has held for the time being, but if Petunia were to meet her untimely demise then Potter would lose the protection, and then… Snape dare not think about the consequences. He has to get the boy out of here, before that were to happen, and then save the boy’s life.
Turning on the spot, he disappeared into the dark night.
Apparating into Little Whinging was not something Snape had ever thought he would need to do in his entire life, and the only other time he’d been here does not exactly bring forth fond memories, it having been the first and last time Lily had brought him to visit her family. Right now though, he couldn’t help but be thankful that at the very least, that had allowed him to perfectly visualise the place and therefore apparate here. Taking quick strides, Severus Snape swiped through the streets, his cloak billowing behind him.
Little Whinging remains largely unchanged from the time he’d visited it, over 16 years ago. The dull and identical-looking houses remind Snape of Spinner’s End, where he grew up, if it was a bit more middle-class and less half-slum . The pristine little gardens all look so artificial , as do the cars, which at night looked more like identical blocks of grey than anything else.
Turning a corner and out of Little Whining just before No. 4 would come into view, he rushed through the streets and soon came into view of St. Louis Hospital , where, according to Dumbledore, Harry was being kept.
It took surprisingly little to convince the nurse working at the front desk to let him into Potter’s room. Snape had originally thought that he would need some well-placed confondus, but a few words was enough for him to be led through the halls and into the ICU part of the hospital and into a room.
“Mr. Potter is currently still unconscious and under heavy monitoring, but we believe that at least for the time being his condition is stable, and as such we will allow you to visit. However do keep in mind that Mr. Potter is unconscious at the moment. Should he wake, you should press the call button and inform one of the nurses immediately.” One of the staff members said in a no-nonsense, brisk voice.
“Of course.” Snape answered smoothly. “I’ll allow you some privacy, but someone will be checking in soon.” The nurse said, then gestured for Severus to go through the door, and she left, closing the door behind her.
A quick pulse check confirmed that Potter was indeed alive, but one wouldn’t believe it unless they actually felt his weak but beating heart. His face was pale, and there was a large scar around his chin and spreading down his neck. His hair was matted, and Snape was sure that Potter’s scared expression would haunt him until the day he died.
Immediately he got to work, casting a notice-me-not charm on the door and retrieving potion after potion from his bag. Gently he helped them down Potter’s throat: a general blood-replenishing potion, a small dose of Pepper-up, nerve regeneration potions. Once he was sure that Potter does not have a broken neck and probably won’t die, he got his emergency Portkey ready, and pressed his wand on Potter’s forehead.
“Rennervate.”
Potter’s eyes fluttered and then opened, exposing his terrified, blood-shot eyes.
“Snape?”