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UnBroken	By : OddDoll Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Het - Male/Female Views: 6172 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Unbroken
By Odd Doll
Chapter 2
Severus Snape was awash with sensations. Light illuminated the small universe of the cell. After two days of silence, there was the click of heels, unfamiliar voices, and the sweet musical pitch of a woman's voice. It was a young woman's voice, firm and clear, not the curdled rasp of the old woman they sent to tend him. When she knelt beside him, he smelled her perfume, even over the stench of his own body. It had been years since he had smelled perfume. A warm hand settled on his arm, a soft touch. Even the man touched him with gentle hands. When she stroked his hair and promised to help him, he dared to think that maybe his luck had changed at last. He felt a rusty door slide open in his mind and in a panic tried to shut it. Hopes were not allowed; they were always followed by disappointment, betrayal, and despair.
The stretcher bounced and jarred his injured ribs, but for a moment, between the door to the house and the doors to the ambulance, he saw a stretch of blue sky and trees budding out in fresh, pale green. It's spring. They had never let him outside. Only the changes of temperature marked the time. Thinking back, he realized over a year had passed since he had seen the sky.
*****
Muggle medicine turned out to be yet another test of his endurance. Needles poked his bruised arms, and hard metal instruments pressed against his skin. They laid him out on a cold, bare table where a strange device passed over his body, taking pictures they told him. The gurney jostled as they wheeled him into a sterile tiled room. A mask descended over his face. The next thing he knew, he was moving again, watching ceiling tiles flick by in a dizzy blur.
When at last they put him in a bed, he could get no rest. A tube stretched from his arm to a bag hanging by the bed. The needle in his arm would have irritated if he weren't so used to discomfort. The nurses bustled in at irregular intervals, smiling in a perfunctory way and fussing over the tubes and instruments, taking his temperature, asking questions he would not answer. If they were not bothering him, they were working over the man in the next bed. His roommate, an elderly man with his leg in a cast to his hip, talked to the television while it spouted noise that was nonsense to his jumbled mind.
It was too much. After so many months of so much silence, the change came too suddenly, the sensations were too rich and varied. In the end, he fell asleep from pure exhaustion.
In the early evening two orderlies and a nurse came to move him to another room. "You have a benefactress," the nurse said. "An American lady is paying your bills and insisted that you have a private room."
He tried to digest this. He didn't know any Americans, he thought before he realized that the woman from the house had been American. What was her name? It bothered him, a little, that he couldn't remember.
"She asked several times to see you. We told her no visitors just yet. Maybe tomorrow, though, if you want to see her. She said she'd be back."
He stared at the ceiling tiles again as they rolled him to his new room. They continued to move even after they had settled him onto the bed. It's the drugs.< His thoughts shifted in a restless muddle. What had her companion called her? With difficulty, he tried to hold onto this thought as he drifted off to sleep again. For the first time in many months, something mattered.
*****
In the morning, a tall sandy-haired Muggle doctor explained to him in detail the surgery he planned to perform.
"You have some broken ribs, which we've already taken care of." He held up a black and white picture that showed a human torso. Severus assumed it was his. "And you have some older injuries that need attention. Your kneecap didn't heal properly. Neither did your right hand." He went on to describe pins and screws they would place in him as if her were Frankenstein's monster. "Your orbital bone is our biggest concern. I imagine you've suffered from headaches for months. Then, of course, we can reconstruct your nose with plastic surgery, but that's not a priority." The doctor looked away from the picture and down at Severus's face. "You're really lucky your eyes weren't damaged."
Severus stared up at this glib, confident young man, so full of self-importance, telling him what he planned to do to Severus's body. When had he ceased feeling anger towards his captors or the many others who sought to use him over the years? He had stopped feeling anything. For a moment, though, he would summon enough interest to accomplish one thing.
"No."
"I beg your pardon?" The doctor peered at him, as if looking closely would improve his hearing.
"No."
"No what?"
"No surgery."
"You're joking."
"No."
The doctor stared, open-mouthed, and then went into a lecture about the dangers of leaving his injuries uncared for. Severus turned his face to the window, staring at the beautiful blue sky. From this angle, the window framed little more than soft green spring leaves and a scattering of snowy white clouds. The colors were so clean and rich, like seeing Honeydukes Sweetshop for the first time, its tantalizing variety of shapes and colors on display everywhere he looked. That was what this day was like for him.
The doctor's speech sputtered out. Even though he faced away, Severus could feel eyes on him. The doctor remained silent for a moment before turning on his heel and heading for the door.
"We'll talk about this some more when you are feeling stronger,"
Severus stared out the window for several more minutes while a small, unfamiliar burning ignited in his chest. He didn't trust it, because it was fueled by hope, but it refused to be doused by the realities of his weakened condition and his absolute dependency upon the charity of others for his continued survival. Somehow, he would leave this place and find a real wizarding healer to care for his injuries.
He wondered if the American woman would help.
*****
Phoebe spent her morning in the dusty, cluttered basement of the Cassandra Building, home of the Daily Prophet. She knew at least six witches and wizards she could have contacted for the information she sought, but if her hunch was right, it was safer if they didn't know what she was looking for: information that might help her identify the man she had found. She wouldn't even trust the archivist, a handsome young wizard who hovered near Phoebe's carrel like a dog hoping for table scraps and repeatedly asked her if he could help her find anything. Sometimes being an attractive woman was damn inconvenient.
After two hours of inhaling dust, hauling heavy bound volumes to and from the dim recesses of the paper's archives, and fending off the archivist, she came upon a small article from February of the prior year.
TWO DEATH EATERS FOUND DEAD
Severus Snape Sought for Questioning
Two Death Eaters were found dead this morning in a rail yard outside Plymouth, amidst signs of a heated magical battle. A broken wand found nearby has been identified by Olivander's as belonging to Severus Snape, former Potions professor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Authorities say that one of the dead men suffered a broken skull while the other died of strangulation. Use of the Priori Incantatem on the wands found at the site indicate the dead men and Snape had engaged in a ferocious duel.
"We believe that this is a clear case of self-defense," said Ministry spokeswoman, Umberta Urgle. "But we would like to talk to him about the deaths." Since the Escape from Hogwarts, for which Snape was awarded the Order of Merlin, Snape has been rumored to be working behind the scenes with those fighting the Dark Lord. He never appeared to collect his award.
The names of the victims have been withheld pending notification of the families.
In the next edition, the paper followed up with obituaries for the two Death Eaters. The first wizard, Phineas Phinkle, had been the owner of a small shop in Knockturn Alley that, judging by the description, served either a junk store or a pawn shop, depending upon the customer's needs. The second was much more interesting: a wealthy pure-blood named Lucius Malfoy. Phoebe read to the end of the long column of print, absorbing the details of Malfoy's pedigree, his businesses, the astounding list of organizations he belonged to, and the charitable funds his family had founded.
On a hunch, she pulled out several articles describing the bodies of Death Eaters found in locations throughout Britain who had had the letter T carved over the Dark Mark just before their death. In each case, there were stories of how the victim had betrayed the Dark Lord in some way, or had tried to leave the ranks of the Death Eaters.
Reading it all was a delaying tactic.
Phoebe sighed as she closed a thick book with a soft thump. It sat squarely on the desk in front of her as she stared blankly at the globe logo embossed in gold on the green cover. It had been November of 1996, she recalled. Eighteen monthS ago. Bracing herself with both palms flat on the desk to either side of the book, she rose to her feet with a heavy sigh and set off to find the article that would confirm the information she already knew. That any witch or wizard the world over knew.
HOGWARTS FALLS
Followers of the Dark Lord Find Castle Abandoned
Potions Professor Credited with Daring Rescue of 200 Children.
Last night after 68 days of siege, Death Eaters, at the direction of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, stormed Hogwarts Castle and found the school abandoned. Sources say the Dark Lord erupted into rage at the news that the children had somehow escaped the cordon of Death Eaters that encircled the castle.
Credited with leading the escape is Potions master Severus Snape. It involved a massive illusion, exhaustive cloaking charms, and perhaps the largest broomlift in history.
Although the details are still unfolding, witnesses say that in the early evening smoke appeared above the castle. Within minutes flames erupted from the castle's midsection, where most of the classrooms are located.
"There was heat, and ash, too," said Madam Rosmerta, a resident of nearby Hogsmeade.
"We thought for certain they had stormed the castle and set it on fire."
It was a charm, devised and set by Snape himself. The fake clouds of smoke were created to drive off the Death Eaters who had been circling Hogwarts by broomstick night and day since the siege began and to hide any possible traces of the students as they escaped the castle. In addition to the fire charm, Snape is said to have put a cloaking charm on the entire student body and the professors who escorted them.
"We couldn't spell the students individually, for fear of losing them in the dark," said Professor Flitwick, Hogwarts' charms instructor. "And it would have taken hours. He had to make one charm for everybody. It was one of the finest illusions I've ever seen."
"The whole plan was Severus's idea from start to finish, and he did most of the magic," said Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall. "He was the only one of us who accepted reality and prepared for this day. Even so, it was a bold and daring plan, and a tremendous piece of magic. The poor man was barely able to fly when we lifted off."
Some time after two a.m. the exhausted student body landed safely at the Quidditch arena in Edinburgh. From there students were transported in small groups to their homes by means of Apparation, portkeys, broomsticks, and Muggle transportation. Reports indicate that no students were injured or lost.
Long associated with the Dark Lord, and a suspected Death Eater, Snape was a surprising choice for Hogwarts Potions professor. Headmaster Albus Dumbledore stood by Snape throughout the years and most recently when his loyalties came into question after the untimely death of Harry Potter. "Severus risked his life to save Harry," Dumbledore said at the time. "If he couldn't save him, no one could." Unsubstantiated rumors suggest that Snape has been working as a double agent for many years and blew his own cover when he engineered the escape.
"I wouldn't want to be in his shoes if You-Know-Who ever gets his hands on him," said a former colleague, who requested anonymity. "You-Know-Who should be very angry. Without the students and faculty, Hogwarts is just a piece of real estate. He had to have been counting on the power that would come from controlling one of the most important institutions in England, if not in the world. What's more, a lot of the people fighting him had children attending Hogwarts. He lost some valuable hostages when they escaped. Snape deserves the Order of Merlin for this."
At this time, Snape's whereabouts are unknown. Sources suggest that he may have gone into hiding.
Since the disappearance of Albus Dumbledore in August, many have predicted the fall of wizarding institutions everywhere. Few, though, expected Hogwarts to be the first. "It's our greatest bastion," said the Minister of Magic this morning at a dawn press conference. "Every British witch and wizard attends Hogwarts. To see it fall is like losing a part of our childhoods or an old friend. This is, indeed, a dark day for wizarding kind."
Read the children's stories and political analysis of this latest development, beginning on page 3.
Phoebe read the article, refreshing her memory of the news that had shocked the wizarding world. It was the photo, though, that drew her attention and was the reason for her research. She studied the dark-eyed man that almost scowled into the camera. It could be the same, she thought.
She closed the book of bound newspapers and held it in her hands, forgotten as she pondered the many disturbing implications of the injured man's identity. Slowly, reluctantly, she rose to leave. She made her way to the street and collapsed onto a bench. As she sat there cars passed by her in a dizzy blur she did not see. For the first time in many years, Phoebe didn't know what to do.
She crossed her forearms across her knees and rested her head against them. "Oh god, this man is trouble. I just know it."
What were her choices? She could pay his bills anonymously, make sure he had the best care. That was the wisest choice. But they wouldn't keep him in the hospital forever. Where would he go then? If he truly had no family or friends, he might be better off if she had left him in that cell. Perhaps she could stay with him long enough to get him settled somewhere. But where? And how could she do that without getting involved?
"Christ!" she whispered. "He's the god damn Hero of Hogwarts."
What kept returning to her, though, was not implications of the rash promise she had made, but the sight of the pathetic, ruined man who had prompted it.
"The Hero of Hogwarts," she said softly. Her heart filled with lead, she returned to the Cassandra Building to find a place to Disapparate and return to Plymouth. She had to take care of him. She was responsible, and she would let no one ever say that she couldn't live up to her responsibilities. It was as simple as that.
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UnBroken