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tamingthemuseTitle: Life After Snakebite
Fandom: Harry Potter
Prompt: #205 ~ Aboulia
Warnings: AU ending to The Deathly Hallows
Rating: General
Summary: Snape survives, with complications.
Disclaimer: I own none of the Harry Potter Universe and make no money from this.
They had found him on the floor of the shrieking shack lying in a dark pool of blood almost blending in with the shadows cast by the waning moon. The miracle had been that he was still alive, just barely, but still alive. He was rushed to St Mungo’s and straight to the Dai Llewellyn ward for serious bites which was on the first floor. The floor specialised in creature-induced injuries, and they seemed to have been getting a lot of practice with snake bites the past few years. It had been touch and go to begin with, but Snape had hung on by that thread for all he was worth.
The great gaping hole in his neck had been the first glaringly obvious issue and Healer Smethwyck had begun barking orders from the moment the stretcher bearers entered the room. The Healers had then set to it with a gusto not usually seen in that ward. But, then, that amount of injured people were not usually seen in St Mungo’s and speed was of the essence, not merely to keep Snape alive but also to enable some of the Healers to move on to the next patient. The war had been kind to no-one.
They had trainees scurrying to and fro with bandages and bottles and the other implements that Smethwyck was shouting for as he bent low over Snape’s prone body, waving his wand in an intricate fashion close to his neck. The blood flow had ceased and when the Healer moved away the hole was starting to close, but they were no closer to making him stable. What looked like blood replenishing potions and a strengthening solution were coaxed down his throat, but not before his body convulsed horribly.
They had not been able to get him to the Healers in enough time. His organs were deteriorating and the delay in treatment had caused him to have a stroke. Healer Smethwyck was able to stabilize his heart and other internal organs with more frantic wand-waving. She remembered thinking that Snape wouldn’t have labelled it foolish this time around and her giggle had been rewarded with a few glares.
A potion that she had not recognised, grey in colour, had also been forced down his throat. Later, when things had started to calm down and she had been able to ask, she discovered that it had been a specialty potion of which the main ingredient was ground bezoar. Appropriate, considering the injury. His body had outwardly relaxed and one of the trainee Healers had settled him more comfortably onto the bed pulling the covers over him and she had been told that now all they could do was wait.
Shaking herself out of her reverie, she moved away from the door and entered the dingy ward properly, balancing his lunch with one hand. Snape was sat in a chair by his bed staring up at the single small window the ward afforded but her movement made him turn around.
“About time too,” he grumbled with a glare that made her feel like a child again.
She set the tray down on the trolley each bed had for a table and turned to face him looking thoughtful. He had yet to fully recover but he had been making good progress. The stroke had left him little able to respond to the goings on around him and most had put it down to him being his usual ungrateful self and wishing that they hadn’t gone to the trouble to save him. She had felt differently though, and the Healer’s had gladly let her take over the menial day to day care of their patient.
Today was the first time that he had responded spontaneously and it was a sign that she had been right. It made her feel vindicated and happiness swelled inside her like a balloon. There was always a glimmer of hope, whatever the situation and however hard it might be to turn that glimmer into a shining light.
Smiling to her patient she replied “I think its time we start relearning how to feed yourself.”
Fandom: Harry Potter
Prompt: #205 ~ Aboulia
Warnings: AU ending to The Deathly Hallows
Rating: General
Summary: Snape survives, with complications.
Disclaimer: I own none of the Harry Potter Universe and make no money from this.
They had found him on the floor of the shrieking shack lying in a dark pool of blood almost blending in with the shadows cast by the waning moon. The miracle had been that he was still alive, just barely, but still alive. He was rushed to St Mungo’s and straight to the Dai Llewellyn ward for serious bites which was on the first floor. The floor specialised in creature-induced injuries, and they seemed to have been getting a lot of practice with snake bites the past few years. It had been touch and go to begin with, but Snape had hung on by that thread for all he was worth.
The great gaping hole in his neck had been the first glaringly obvious issue and Healer Smethwyck had begun barking orders from the moment the stretcher bearers entered the room. The Healers had then set to it with a gusto not usually seen in that ward. But, then, that amount of injured people were not usually seen in St Mungo’s and speed was of the essence, not merely to keep Snape alive but also to enable some of the Healers to move on to the next patient. The war had been kind to no-one.
They had trainees scurrying to and fro with bandages and bottles and the other implements that Smethwyck was shouting for as he bent low over Snape’s prone body, waving his wand in an intricate fashion close to his neck. The blood flow had ceased and when the Healer moved away the hole was starting to close, but they were no closer to making him stable. What looked like blood replenishing potions and a strengthening solution were coaxed down his throat, but not before his body convulsed horribly.
They had not been able to get him to the Healers in enough time. His organs were deteriorating and the delay in treatment had caused him to have a stroke. Healer Smethwyck was able to stabilize his heart and other internal organs with more frantic wand-waving. She remembered thinking that Snape wouldn’t have labelled it foolish this time around and her giggle had been rewarded with a few glares.
A potion that she had not recognised, grey in colour, had also been forced down his throat. Later, when things had started to calm down and she had been able to ask, she discovered that it had been a specialty potion of which the main ingredient was ground bezoar. Appropriate, considering the injury. His body had outwardly relaxed and one of the trainee Healers had settled him more comfortably onto the bed pulling the covers over him and she had been told that now all they could do was wait.
Shaking herself out of her reverie, she moved away from the door and entered the dingy ward properly, balancing his lunch with one hand. Snape was sat in a chair by his bed staring up at the single small window the ward afforded but her movement made him turn around.
“About time too,” he grumbled with a glare that made her feel like a child again.
She set the tray down on the trolley each bed had for a table and turned to face him looking thoughtful. He had yet to fully recover but he had been making good progress. The stroke had left him little able to respond to the goings on around him and most had put it down to him being his usual ungrateful self and wishing that they hadn’t gone to the trouble to save him. She had felt differently though, and the Healer’s had gladly let her take over the menial day to day care of their patient.
Today was the first time that he had responded spontaneously and it was a sign that she had been right. It made her feel vindicated and happiness swelled inside her like a balloon. There was always a glimmer of hope, whatever the situation and however hard it might be to turn that glimmer into a shining light.
Smiling to her patient she replied “I think its time we start relearning how to feed yourself.”
