ellid (ellid) wrote in lupin_snape, @ 2007-08-18 12:07:00 |
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Entry tags: | fic: pg13 |
Post-DH Fic: War Wounds, Part One
Title: War Wounds, Part One
Rating: PG-13 for pre-slash and concepts
Summary: two war casualties meet in St. Mungo's. Can they aid each other while the rest of the world goes on its way?
Note: this is DH-compatible. It is cross-posted to LiveJournal and ellid.
"Jesus. What a slaughter. Are they all from - "
"Yeah. That's why they sent 'em here. Too many for old Gotobed to handle in Hogsmeade."
"Christ. This un's young, hasn't even started to shave."
"I've got worse. This gel - looks like she had a kiddie at home. What the bleedin' hell was she doing there?"
"What - oh. I heard about that one. Ran after her husband, and they both got it. Poor kid."
"We got enough orphans without makin' em deliberate like. Who's this?"
"Lemme see, he looks familiar - oh, that one. Taught at Hogwarts for a while. I think he's a werewolf, maybe a vampire? Something Dark - "
"Poor bastard. Looks like he didn't have two sickles to rub together."
"Who does these days? Bloody Ministry and their bloody - what's wrong?"
"Bloody hell! He moved!"
"What? That - fuck! He's -
"I'm calling a Healer!"
"Here, raise him up, he's choking - "
"Not a chance, he might be contagious! Di'll kill me if I get infected - "
"What's going on? I came as fast as I - good Lord man, get away from him! Let me - oh my. Crash Cart to Morgue One, stat! Casualty reviving!"
"Sir! There's another one, over here, the one the elves brought in - "
"Make that two Crash Carts - damn, damn, damn, he's bleeding out! Possible poisoning, bring a bezoar and antivenin! We're losing them!"
"He's a Death Eater! Let him go!"
"We can send him to Azkaban after he's out of danger - yes, right there - massage it down his throat - good, he's starting to breathe again, clamp the wound - how's the other?"
"Heartbeat's thready, sir. We're bagging him until we get him upstairs."
"God. Get a team down here and check everyone. If there's even a chance, we're taking it."
"Right. Let's get these two up to Critical Care!"
Excerpt from dictated medical reports of J. Staghorn, Senior Healer, Critical Care Ward, St. Mungo's Hospital.
…upon examination, it was found that three (3) casualties of the late battle maintained some minimal respiration and brain activity. Revival efforts commenced at once.
Patient #1 - male, aged 38, widowed, one child. Patient suffered severe spell damage, including a deflected avadra kedavra, broken bones in the wand arm, and a variant crucio on a compound fracture to the right femur, as well as pre-existing lycanthropy. Left arm moved while morgue attendants were preparing for autopsy, resulting in call to Emergency Services. Standard blood-borne pathogen precautions were used during revival efforts due to pre-existing condition (lycanthropy; see below).
Resuscitation and treatment were complicated by hitherto unknown spell that seemed designed to force the lycanthropic transformation. Patient's internal organs had begun to change (lower GI tract, urogenital system, lungs were lupine; other organ systems remained grossly human). Spell reversal was required to permit normal respiration. Theory that magical residue of partial transformation forced patient into suspended animation must be investigated further.
Current status: serious but stable. Patient has yet to regain consciousness. Will require physio to regain full use of leg and arm.
Prognosis: good.
Patient #2 - male, aged 38, unmarried. Patient was not present at battle but was brought in separately by a Hogwarts elf identified only as "Mimsy." Death was attributed to severe blood loss and damage to the central nervous system due to snakebite from the self-styled "Dark Lord's" familiar, an oversized king cobra. Tissue necrosis around the bite was also present due to the venom. Stasis spell presumably cast by "Mimsy" was in place to maintain body until burial arrangements could be made.
Patient gasped during preparation of battle casualties for autopsy. Revival efforts were successful thanks to large doses of antivenin and blood replenishers (see treatment regiment for Weasley, A.,) as well respiration spells until patient's pulmonary nerves had regenerated. Tissue samples showed that patient had partial immunity to snakebite due to ingestion of small quantities of cobra venom over a long period. Patient also had the remnants of a miniature bezoar concealed in a rear molar, which may have slowed the anti-clotting factor in the snake's venom.
Current status: critical. Patient has yet to regain consciousness and will require extensive physio and occupational therapy to regain full function. It is not known if the patient has suffered impairment due to oxygen deprivation and poisoning.
Prognosis: guarded.
Patient #3 - female, aged 52, divorced, three children. Patient suffered massive trauma to the throat and internal organs. Shallow respiration was discovered during check of all casualties initiated after above patients showed signs of life. Revival efforts were hindered by crushed larynx and brain damage from lack of oxygen.
Patient could not be revived and was pronounced dead after 57 minutes on respiration spells. Family was notified and claimed body for cremation.
Excerpt ends.
You shouldn't be here.
What?
You can't escape by dying. Especially since you're not dead.
I'm not alive - look, I'm there and -
You still have magic. Just a trace, but it's still there. Dying to get away from your responsibilities -
McNair and Yaxley -
She took that curse for you, Moony. The least you can do is live for your son.
She's right, mate. You can do what we couldn't. Go back.
Oh God. What I said to Harry - I meant -
I'm sorry, Moony. But you can't stay.
She shouldn't have followed me - she just had a -
Go home, Remus. You have work to do. We'll be here when you're done.
But -
Go home!
Death was white.
He was mildly surprised about this. The battle had been red, blood red, or green from the Killing Curse sizzling overhead. Those few seconds when Harry brought him back had been grey, the dull, peaceful grey of a fogbank. Then nothing, and now everything was white, whiter than milk or stars or paper or -
Remus gasped and tried to sit up. A witch in a white St. Mungo's uniform was there almost immediately, pushing him back to the smooth cotton sheets before he could notice that his wand arm was bandaged almost to the shoulder and his right leg was immobilized. "What - "
"Don't try to talk, Mr. Lupin. You've been unconscious for days. Here, this will help." She held a cup of something cool and blue to his lips. "It's a strengthening potion, not a sedative."
The liquid tasted of summer fruits and fresh mint. Remus swallowed. The witch drew her wand and ran it up his right side, nodding from time to time.
"What happened?" He turned his head enough to see that he was in a hospital ward. Most of the beds were empty, except for one in the corner that was surrounded by a fabric screen. "The battle - "
The Matron broke into a huge grin. "Over. You-Know-Who is gone for good, thanks to Harry Potter." The grin faded. "Hogwarts is a mess, and Headmistress is farming out the students to Beauxbatons and a couple of smaller schools until they can rebuild. A lot of good people died - some of those children were so young - "
Headmistress? Minerva must have survived, thank God. "What about Harry? He - "
"Oh no, alive and well! He'll be thrilled to hear you're awake again." She cast a temperature-check spell and looked pleased. "Your arm and leg are healing well, and your fever is gone. You'll be well enough to start rehabilitation therapy in a few days, and then we can send you home. Your little boy is so sweet, though why he keeps changing his hair I couldn't say."
"He's a Metamorphmagus." Remus allowed himself a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they could make a go of it now that the War was over. "Did my wife bring him in?"
"Your - oh. Dear." The smile faded, and Remus knew. His left fist clenched.
"She's dead, isn't she?"
"I'm not supposed to say until you're - "
He managed to raise himself on his good elbow. A cold ache that no painkiller could dull had begun under his ribs. "The last thing I remember is her throwing herself in front of a spell. If I'm alive, it's because of her. Please."
The Matron would not meet his eyes. "I'm sorry, Mr. Lupin. You only caught the edge of the Killing Curse. She took it full in the chest." She made a show of checking the clipboard hanging at the end of his bed. "Her mother's been to see you with your little boy, but she couldn't stay long, poor thing. She's that crushed, she is, losing her daughter so soon after losing her husband."
Remus slumped back against the pillows. "I'm sure she is," he whispered. Oh, Dora - why? Why were you there? Was it for me? I'm not worth it, I’m not -
"Here. You rest. I'll get Healer Staghorn." The witch hesitated, then reached down and patted his hand before fleeing. "He'll tell you everything."
Excerpt from treatment records of R.J. Lupin, werewolf, as dictated by J. Staghorn, Senior Healer, Critical Care Ward, St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies.
…patient was awake and alert. He had many questions about his condition, prognosis, and treatment, and asked repeatedly after his son and friends. I provided answers and a full treatment schedule, although I could not promise a date by which he would be released.
Patient requested several days' worth of back newspapers so he could "catch up" with current events. He became emotional upon reading the casualty lists in the Prophet and the interview with Headmistress McGonagall of Hogwarts. I suggested that he might wish to speak to an alienist concerning grief issues, especially given that he will have sole responsibility for a son that seems to have inherited his mother's unusual abilities. Patient stated that he would consider his options and then pled exhaustion….
End of excerpt
"Here we go, ducks," said the physiotherapist. She was a stout, cheerful witch with the most powerful forearms Remus had ever seen that weren't on a professional Beater. "Up we go and into the chair, that's right!"
Before he could so much as squawk she'd scooped him up and placed him in a wheelchair, then gestured and set it rolling toward the door. "Where are we - "
"Physiotherapy, of course. I can work on your arm anywhere, but your right leg was such a mess you'll need real work if you want to walk without a limp." The halls cleared as they approached, most likely because the chair went so quickly that Remus bounced slightly every time they went over a seam in the floor. "Just because they took the cast off doesn't mean you're shipshape and Bristol fashion, you know!"
"No doubt." Remus clutched at the metal armrests as he whipped around a corner and headed for a door marked REHABILITATION. He'd already guessed that physiotherapy was next from the way his leg had buckled yesterday when Healer Staghorn had finally let him hobble to the loo unassisted. "Have you done this long?"
"Twenty-five years this December, ducks." He finally got a glimpse of her nametag: A. GIDEON. She stopped the chair when they were in a long room that looked like a cross between a gymnasium and a dance studio, gesturing expansively at a collection of polished torture devices. "We use Muggle equipment here in case you're curious. Modified, of course. Some of the old guard on staff don't like it, but I say if it works, use it, and we get amazing results."
"I daresay." The room was pleasantly humid and warm thanks to a bubbling hot tub near the wall and a long, thin swimming pool by the windows. The water in the pool was moving in a slow, rhythmic pattern, and Miss Gideon beamed as she noticed him staring at it.
"We're right proud of that. It's designed to let people work on their legs without putting weight on the bones while they're healing." She clapped him on the back. "You'll be there eventually, but not today. I'm starting you with stretching and strengthening in case your hamstring shrank while you were out."
"I - " Remus fought to keep his balance as Miss Gideon helped him stand. Healer Staghorn had assured him that it was just a matter of time and exercise before his leg was perfectly fine, but it was disheartening to be so weak. "I'm not a good swimmer."
Miss Gideon helped him to an exercise mat and had him lie flat. "Don't worry, ducks. There's an anti-drowning charm on the wave pool and the hot tub. Some of our patients can hardly move, let alone swim."
She ran her wand along his leg, nodded to herself, and began carefully lifting it up, inch by inch, until it was straight up. Remus grunted at the stretching pain and turned his face to the side. "I know it hurts, but this is the only way to make sure it heals right. Here, it needs to stay like this for a few minutes."
A murmured charm, and his leg remained sticking straight up as she checked his chart. "Besides, you're better than some. That other patient in Critical Care - he's still out and they're not sure he'll ever wake up. Whatever You-Know-Who did to him was torture, pure and simple."
That had to be the mysterious patient behind the screen. Remus had seen Healers and mediwitches coming and going at all hours with what looked like every potion in the Pharmacopeia Magica on their neat little trays. The surviving members of the Order were all accounted for, so who was it? An Auror? A student? "Have you seen him? If he was at Hogwarts, I probably know him."
"I think so. He was much worse than you were, love. I hear they used ten vials of blood replenisher and all the antivenin in the hospital, he was that bad." Her cheerful face darkened. "He's no older than you, not that it's easy to tell with him looking so bad. They've had me draw up a rehab plan for him in case he comes to, but I'm not sure I'll ever use it."
Remus closed his eyes at the thought of yet another person damaged by Voldemort's madness. Would it never end? Fred, that poor Creevey boy, Mad-Eye, Dora -
I should be dead, not her. Why me? A great spasm of guilt swept over him, and he started to cough into the arm of his hospital-issue sweat top. The grey fabric seemed to be charmed to absorb moisture.
"Here, it doesn't hurt that much, does it?" Miss Gideon knelt beside him and held out a wad of fluffy tissues. "You're doing much better than most, you know. That Beater for the Pride cried like a baby when I worked on his - "
"No, no. I'm almost used to it." Damn this weakness! "It's - sometimes I think about the casualties, and - "
"That's right, your missus! I'm so sorry." She stuffed the tissues into his hand. "War's a terrible thing - " Her wand blinked, and she made a face. "Hang on, ducks, I have to lower you."
Remus blew his nose and managed a faint smile. "Thank you. You're very kind."
"If you want to talk about her, I'm listening." She murmured a spell and began manipulating his bad leg, carefully checking the alignment of tendons and muscles alongside the knee as she worked. "Good, it's mainly residual weakness. You'll be up and running soon enough."
Talk about Dora? He stared at the ceiling. The pain had faded to a dull warmth as Miss Gideon stretched and flexed and relaxed his muscles. "The last time I tried, it didn't go well. Har - my friend didn't want to hear what I had to say." The hollow feeling was back, worse than ever.
"Well, that's a shame! Everyone has a story. Your friend should have at least listened." She pulled him upright and helped him stand so they could limp over to a weight machine. "Now, you need to build up leg strength - that's right, sit down and put your feet right there - good, like that.
"If you need to talk about your missus, I'm here. You're probably not ready, but when you are, I'll listen." She drew an X over her heart. "Promise."
Remus cautiously pushed his legs against the weight-resisting plate. His right leg protested, but not nearly as much as he'd feared. "'Dora was - she was like no one else I've ever met. She was a good friend and a good Auror, and I did love her, as much as I could. But I tried to tell her that it wasn't that kind of love, and we shouldn't have gotten married - and then she told me about the baby, and it was too late - "
Owl to J. Staghorn from Horace Slughorn.
My dear Jeremy! How wonderful it is to hear from you. How is your wife? And your kiddies? We must have lunch.
Of course I'll brew the Wolfsbane for Remus! We're all so pleased that he's alive and recovering. When will he be allowed to receive visitors? Young Harry is wild to see him again, and I'm sure Mrs. Tonks will be delighted to bring little Teddy for a visit - such a beautiful child, even if he terrified his grandmother by appearing to be a girl at his last nappy change.
The potions lab has all the supplies I'll need, so expect the Wolfsbane within a few days. Please let me know if you need any further medicinals and I will speak to Damocles about putting his lab to work.
Sincerely yours,
Horace
P.S. I've enclosed a supply of blood replenishment potion and my own nerve tonic. I've heard rumors that you're running low on both for a certain unnamed patient. If he ever wakes, I'd be obliged if you'd give him my regards. H.S.
Paid obituary from the Daily Prophet:
TONKS, Nymphadora Eugenia, during the Battle of Hogwarts. Miss Tonks, daughter of Andromeda Tonks and the late Theodore Tonks, was an Auror for many years until her recent retirement. She was a Hufflepuff, and was involved in several notable cases during her law enforcement career. She is survived by her mother, Andromeda, and son, Theodore.
Services will be private. Contributions in lieu of flowers to the War Orphans' Fund and the Alastor Moody Scholarship Foundation.
He was a wolf when the visitor came.
He hadn't wanted to stay in the Critical Care Ward during the full moon, even with Wolfsbane, but Healer Staghorn had insisted. "I want to monitor the first transformation in case something goes wrong. Your bones are almost healed, but the whatever it was - "
"Emergo lupus was the incantation, I think. I'm not sure who cast it." Remus squeezed at the little rubber ball Miss Gideon had given him to strengthen his hand. She was planning to start him on wand motions in the next day or two, carefully monitored in case of residual weakness or tendon damage.
" - may effect your transformation," the Healer continued, frowning slightly at the interruption. "I want you here when it happens, not downstairs with the recently turned. Some of them are on the verge of going feral thanks to Greyback, and I don't want to risk your recovery if there's a dominance battle."
Healer Staghorn had been right, of course. So when Remus became Moony, he was watched by his entire treatment team, checked for organ damage and muscle strength, and fed a carefully monitored bland diet in case he had a human's digestive tract in a wolf's body this time.
It was the most pleasant transformation since the year he'd spent at Hogwarts, and if Slughorn's version of Wolfsbane wasn't quite as good at pain relief as Snape's, it still allowed him to think and react as a human rather than a slavering thing. Miss Gideon even snuck him a dog biscuit when it became obvious that he wasn't going to sick up, and after Healer Staghorn had gone off to tend the mysterious patient in the corner, she put him on a leash and took him down to the courtyard for a romp and a chance to lift his leg. She said it was to monitor his right leg, but Moony knew better.
He was curled on his bed, almost asleep, when the door banged open. His hackles rose and he growled a warning, but the cloaked figure swirled past him without a glance.
"Staghorn!" The posh accent was familiar, but the raw fury was not. "Is it true?"
Healer Staghorn stepped out from behind the portable curtains surrounding the corner bed. Moony raised his head and took a long sniff as air was displaced. Medicine, fever, sweat, soap, powder, something familiar under it all, someone he knew, poison -
"Mr. - "
"Malfoy. Draco Malfoy." The young man's hair was almost white in the dim glow from the corner. He grabbed the Healer by the shoulders, voice dropping to a snarl. "Is it true? Is it him?"
Healer Staghorn smacked Malfoy's hands away. "I don't know what you've heard, young man, but my patients' names and condition are confidential. Unless you're a relative - "
"He saved my life!" Malfoy's jaw worked as if he were fighting off tears. "Once at school, when Potter hexed me - yes, St. Harry Potter, don’t look at me like that! - and another time, when - " He sucked in a hard, angry breath. "All I want to know is if he's alive. Please. He wasn't even mentioned at the public memorial, but Barty Crouch's old elf said something about him being here - "
Moony flowed onto the polished linoleum and padded over to them, making sure to stay out of Malfoy's line of sight. Remus had read the transcript of the memorial service and gone over the long, long list of the honored dead until his vision blurred. Who was missing?
"Mr. Malfoy." The Healer's voice was gentle. "I realize that this is very upsetting for you, especially given some of the articles about your friend that have appeared in the last few weeks. I've spoken to Harry Potter and I'm fully aware of how much he sacrificed for the Light, no matter what Rita Skeeter and her ilk might say.
"You must understand that his condition is grave. He was severely - damaged, and unless and until he regains consciousness we have no way of knowing whether he will ever recover enough function to be the man you once knew. Muscle atrophy from being unconscious so long is a definite, and there is a strong possibility of brain damage from lack of oxygen. There's also tissue necrosis at the wound from the venom, and - "
"I don't care. Whatever care he needs, he'll get." For the first time Malfoy looked like a young man, not a petulant boy. "I don’t care what condition he's in. All I want is to see him for myself."
Healer Staghorn narrowed his eyes. "You must keep this confidential, Mr. Malfoy. Harry Potter aside, your friend isn't the most popular of men. We've taken no chances with outsiders knowing that he survived. Only those immediately concerned with his care know his true identity."
"His secret is safe with me. My oath as a Malfoy." The pointed chin came up a notch. "I'll tell no one. Not even my parents."
"Very well." The Healer drew the curtain back and nudged Malfoy forward. "You're welcome to talk to him, but don’t expect an answer. He hasn't shown any signs of waking since he arrived."
Everything was white: the glossy metal bedframe, the stiffly laundered sheets, the starched curtains on their enamelled steel frame. The man in the bed was white, too, nearly as white as the bandage on the side of his neck. His eyes were screwed shut and lips pursed as if he were in pain, even unconscious. The only splash of non-white was the smoothly combed black hair, and that was starting to grey at the temples.
Young Malfoy made a sound that was half shock, half pain. He stepped past the Healer and stared down at the unmoving figure, then lifted one limp hand and held it as if he could somehow will his friend to speak, move, react.
"Severus," he whispered. "Severus, please. Wake up."
Severus? Moony joined Malfoy beside the bed and positioned his front paws so he could raise himself enough to get a good look at his old colleague. The scent was right, the face was right - what had happened? The papers said he'd vanished after the last battle and was presumed dead. How had he ended up here?
Malfoy jerked backwards with a hiss, wand almost pinwheeling out of his fingers as he yanked it from its sheath. "Werewolf - Lupin? What the - "
Moony bared his teeth, then dropped back to floor as he realized that it looked more like a snarl than a grin. Snape looked so cold and so pale - what had happened? Why wasn't he awake yet?
Healer Staghorn grabbed Malfoy's wand arm before he could aim. Moony cowered and tried to scrabble backwards. His right hind leg held, but a spike of pain had started up toward his groin.
"You are in a hospital, Mr. Malfoy, and I would ask that you not forget that in the future."
"But - "
"Mr. Lupin is fully medicated. The worst he could do is shed on Headmaster Snape." The Healer's voice was nearly as cold as Snape's when he was angry. "He was gravely injured and is here until he's well enough to rejoin his family. Exactly like your friend."
Malfoy swallowed, then nodded. "I'm sorry. It's - he hated, hates werewolves. And Andromeda - my aunt - said - "
Healer Staghorn nodded after a moment. "I understand your concerns. Do you truly think I'd risk anyone's safety by having an unmedicated werewolf in the wards? Believe me, he's perfectly safe." He knelt and gave Moony a gentle rub between the ears.
Moony whined and nudged the Healer's fingers, then carefully prodded Malfoy's leg with his muzzle. The young man hesitantly extended a hand so Moony could sniff, visibly relaxing as the first contact was a tentative lick and not a savage bite. "He - he's not what I expected. I - "
There was a faint, almost pained gasp from the bed. Malfoy whirled and snatched up his old professor's hand again. "Severus? It's Draco. I'm here, you're safe - "
Moony ignored the ache in his leg and scooted under the bed. He came up on the other side and stared down at Snape. He had gone rigid, and the human part of his mind heard something that sounded like "seizure" from the foot of the bed. He whined and leaned close enough to smell the hospital's shampoo on the limp black hair - surely Snape was cold, and that was why he was shivering?
He nuzzled the still face, then the thick bandage on the neck. That smelled of antiseptic and healing, and he ignored it. The Healer was doing what he could as he chanted and drew patterns in the air, and it was not Moony's place to interfere.
The left arm, though - the skin where the Dark Mark had burned was greyish and unnaturally slick. Moony took a good, long sniff, then ran his tongue up and over the soft underside. Snape tasted of sweat and medicine and the faintest trace of venom, and Moony licked and licked until the taint was gone and the flesh was pink. He heard a question from somewhere, but ignored it. Wasn't he immune to all poisons except silver? He had nothing to fear.
There was another gasp, and a groan. Moony whined and began working on the long, stained hand. The salty, bitter taste of poison was there, too, if less and less as Moony lapped away. The fingers tensed, and then yanked free.
"What - " It was a ragged croak, not the old smooth flow. "Dog - Draco? Where - "
Healer Staghorn was at Snape's side in an instant. Moony stopped licking and ignored the slide of nails on floor as his weak leg finally began to give way.
"Headmaster Snape? Can you hear me?"
"Hear - who are - " Snape trembled. "So cold - where am I? Draco?"
"You're in St. Mungo's. Severus - oh God, you're awake - " Malfoy clutched Snape's right hand and ignored the tears pouring down his cheeks. "We thought you were dead!"
"Dead? Damn snake - " Snape turned to face Moony. Moony whimpered and lowered himself to the cold institutional tiles while he could still control his leg. "Lupin? You - "
"We'll explain everything in good time, Mr. Snape," said Healer Staghorn. He shooed the werewolf away from the bed and tapped a patch on his hospital robes. The Matron and Miss Gideon were there in seconds. "Welcome back to the world."