Categories > Books > Harry Potter > The Secret Lives Of Potions Masters
(Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor anything contained within these pages, no infringement is intended.)
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The lamps were flickering he entered the room. He could see Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall were huddled by the only occupied bed. Dumbledore froze in mid step, as if hit by some hex, when he realized who was lying there. "How long has he been like this?" Dumbledore asked hoarsely, moving up to take his place beside the bed. "A few hours or more," answered Madame Pomfrey. " I don't know, I can't tell. Miss Granger found him, down by the kitchens. We don't know how he got there," she continued, gesticulating helplessly.
Professor McGonagall spoke, almost whispered "He looks as though he's been attacked by some wild animal ..." she trailed off into silence. "He was," said Madame Pomfrey, and pulling back the bed sheets to show the worst of the damage, she continued, "he's lost a great deal of blood, and the bites... it carried some sort of poison. Fever has set in ... Albus, I'm sorry, it's only a matter of time. I think ... the teeth and claw marks are consistent with that of a Gryphon. No one has ever survived." Professor McGonagall closed her eyes at the news and put a hand over her heart as a shudder passed through her. "Oh, Lord." she whispered. She opened her eyes and looked down at the patient, who lay there shivering and oblivious, gripped in the throes of illness. "Oh, Albus," she said her voice cracking with emotion, as the tears began to fall from Professor Dumbledore's eyes.
"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore sighed, "I've failed you, yet again." "No, Albus," interrupted Professor McGonagall, attempting to comfort him, to absolve him, "we all know the risks, he knew..." "That his life was at stake, while we sat in safety," Dumbledore continued harshly, "after years of torture at the hands of Voldemort ..." both Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey winced at the mention of that name, while Dumbledore continued talking. "that he was expendable when compared with the others." "It was his decision," said Professor McGonagall, feelingly she continued, "a decision we've all made, to shape the consequences of our actions."
Dumbledore looked again at the man bleeding and shivering before him while Madame Pomfrey circled the bed doing what little she could to keep him alive. "At eighteen," Dumbledore sighed, his anger spent, "Did he really know what the consequences would be? What the cost would come to? Did he really have a choice?" "Did you?" questioned Professor McGonagall. Taking a seat by the bed and wiping a tear away, Headmaster Dumbledore answered her, "No, to give Severus a chance to redeem himself, in my eyes if not his own ... The opportunity to have a spy in Voldemort's court was to rare not to exploit." Dumbledore's right hand formed into a fist at his next words, "the chance that Voldemort could be thwarted in even the slightest way ..." he trailed off, his hand flattening again. "But now..." Dumbledore continued, raising his hand and gesturing towards the bed were Professor Snape lay dying, "is this end really justified?"
A tired silence descended on the room. "Poppy," Dumbledore spoke again at last, a tiny twinkle returning to his eyes, "please go to my office and collect Fawkes, his tears might be able to do some good." "Headmaster," Madame Pomfrey stammered, "it won't cure him." "Thank you, Poppy, I am aware of that," Dumbledore said, permitting himself a small smile before continuing, "however, it will buy us time to find something that can." Madame Pomfrey hurried out of the hospital wing, relieved at last to be doing something constructive.
"Minerva," Dumbledore spoke again,"would you please fetch Miss Granger. I need her to run an errand for me. If possible, ask her not to dress in her school uniform." "Now? Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked incredulously. "Yes, Minerva," Dumbledore replied, "it is of the utmost necessity." Professor McGonagall made her way over to the open door, yet paused on the threshold. Glancing back towards Dumbledore she spoke, "What will you do?" Dumbledore answered, "send for help, what choice have I? There is no alternative." Minerva spoke again, unsure, "What if he won't come?" "He has to." Dumbledore replied with assuredness.
With that Professor McGonagall continued through the door into the brightly lit hall. As her eyes adjusted, she continued making her way through the school to the Gryffindor common room to deliver the summons. Back in the hospital wing, Dumbledore sat clasping Severus' hand in his own, weeping for the fallen. He whispered through his tears, "He has to."
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The lamps were flickering he entered the room. He could see Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall were huddled by the only occupied bed. Dumbledore froze in mid step, as if hit by some hex, when he realized who was lying there. "How long has he been like this?" Dumbledore asked hoarsely, moving up to take his place beside the bed. "A few hours or more," answered Madame Pomfrey. " I don't know, I can't tell. Miss Granger found him, down by the kitchens. We don't know how he got there," she continued, gesticulating helplessly.
Professor McGonagall spoke, almost whispered "He looks as though he's been attacked by some wild animal ..." she trailed off into silence. "He was," said Madame Pomfrey, and pulling back the bed sheets to show the worst of the damage, she continued, "he's lost a great deal of blood, and the bites... it carried some sort of poison. Fever has set in ... Albus, I'm sorry, it's only a matter of time. I think ... the teeth and claw marks are consistent with that of a Gryphon. No one has ever survived." Professor McGonagall closed her eyes at the news and put a hand over her heart as a shudder passed through her. "Oh, Lord." she whispered. She opened her eyes and looked down at the patient, who lay there shivering and oblivious, gripped in the throes of illness. "Oh, Albus," she said her voice cracking with emotion, as the tears began to fall from Professor Dumbledore's eyes.
"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore sighed, "I've failed you, yet again." "No, Albus," interrupted Professor McGonagall, attempting to comfort him, to absolve him, "we all know the risks, he knew..." "That his life was at stake, while we sat in safety," Dumbledore continued harshly, "after years of torture at the hands of Voldemort ..." both Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey winced at the mention of that name, while Dumbledore continued talking. "that he was expendable when compared with the others." "It was his decision," said Professor McGonagall, feelingly she continued, "a decision we've all made, to shape the consequences of our actions."
Dumbledore looked again at the man bleeding and shivering before him while Madame Pomfrey circled the bed doing what little she could to keep him alive. "At eighteen," Dumbledore sighed, his anger spent, "Did he really know what the consequences would be? What the cost would come to? Did he really have a choice?" "Did you?" questioned Professor McGonagall. Taking a seat by the bed and wiping a tear away, Headmaster Dumbledore answered her, "No, to give Severus a chance to redeem himself, in my eyes if not his own ... The opportunity to have a spy in Voldemort's court was to rare not to exploit." Dumbledore's right hand formed into a fist at his next words, "the chance that Voldemort could be thwarted in even the slightest way ..." he trailed off, his hand flattening again. "But now..." Dumbledore continued, raising his hand and gesturing towards the bed were Professor Snape lay dying, "is this end really justified?"
A tired silence descended on the room. "Poppy," Dumbledore spoke again at last, a tiny twinkle returning to his eyes, "please go to my office and collect Fawkes, his tears might be able to do some good." "Headmaster," Madame Pomfrey stammered, "it won't cure him." "Thank you, Poppy, I am aware of that," Dumbledore said, permitting himself a small smile before continuing, "however, it will buy us time to find something that can." Madame Pomfrey hurried out of the hospital wing, relieved at last to be doing something constructive.
"Minerva," Dumbledore spoke again,"would you please fetch Miss Granger. I need her to run an errand for me. If possible, ask her not to dress in her school uniform." "Now? Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked incredulously. "Yes, Minerva," Dumbledore replied, "it is of the utmost necessity." Professor McGonagall made her way over to the open door, yet paused on the threshold. Glancing back towards Dumbledore she spoke, "What will you do?" Dumbledore answered, "send for help, what choice have I? There is no alternative." Minerva spoke again, unsure, "What if he won't come?" "He has to." Dumbledore replied with assuredness.
With that Professor McGonagall continued through the door into the brightly lit hall. As her eyes adjusted, she continued making her way through the school to the Gryffindor common room to deliver the summons. Back in the hospital wing, Dumbledore sat clasping Severus' hand in his own, weeping for the fallen. He whispered through his tears, "He has to."
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