Knew Father

by ImperialJedi

Summary: AU6th Year. Sevitus. Harry is a natural Occlumens and has hidden the fact that Snape is his father since he was 10. Harry must deal with many unique attempts at his life and the ongoing war while studying to become a Healer and keep his parentage secret.

Disclaimer: I acknowledge that Harry Potter and related copyrighted material is not my own. I am not receiving any monetary gain for this fanfiction.

A/N: A huge thankyou and hug to my awesome Beta reader, my Mom! Thanx also to all of my patient readers who have reviewed, fav'd, or alerted this story. :D

Chapter 12: The New Patient

The Healer from Godric Hollow came with his assistant in the early hours of the morning. They quietly packed up and transported the more serious cases back to their clinic. After they departed, Albus Dumbledore dimmed the lighting in the Hospital Wing and bid Madame Rosmerta, Professor Sprout, and their assistants a good night before leaving.

He took a shortcut to the teacher's lounge. The Headmaster only paused briefly to speak a few words with the Aurors standing guard at the door. Once inside, the Headmaster was immediately accosted by voices of concern. He listened as well as he could while he took a moment to see who were present and take in the mood of the room. Not only was the Minister present, there were also MLE officials and other Department Heads. They were huddled together discussing their concerns depending on their department.

The Aurors and Magical Law Enforcement (MLE) officials were gathered around a large wooden table sorting through the latest Intel with Minister Rufus Scrimgeour. They had a magical map zoomed in on Hogsmeade and London. At the countertop running along the sidewall next to the sink and coffee pots the Commerce, Transportation, and Health Department Heads were pounding out emergency supply distribution and procedures. On the sofas and lounge chairs were the Head of the School Board of Governors sitting next to Deputy Headmistress McGonagall. They were discussing what do to with the few students still remaining at Hogwarts and how to inform the parents and guardians of the recent attacks.

Professor McGonagall had gone to visit her family for the winter break, but must have just returned in the last hour or two. She spotted the Headmaster looking at her and he gave her a nod of thanks across the busy room.

"Albus," growled Mad-Eye Moody at his side. "The Minister wants to see you." The ex-Auror had taken an advisory position with the MLE department. Still sporting the fake leg and magical eye that could see through most things, Moody turned about and made his way around a House-Elf serving snacks and food. Dumbledore followed suddenly feeling tired. Men his age had no business going without sleep for so long. He pulled out a lemon drop and sucked on it for a little bit more energy.

"Minister Scrimgeour," Dumbledore said politely around his lemon drop. Rufus Scrimgeour looked up for a moment before returning to his parchment. On his right sat the Head of the Auror department, Gawain Robards. Dumbledore took a seat in the chair offered him. Moody remained standing.

"Headmaster," the Minister said. "Thank you, once again for hosting us here at Hogwarts." Moody rolled his magical eye completely around in it's socket at the obviousness of why one would host the Auror Department in Hogwarts when the enemy was right on their doorstep. Scrimgeour missed the movement, but eyed Moody skeptically anyway. Albus did his best to look innocent despite his own amusement.

"We're finalizing our counter-attack." The minister continued as he straightened the parchments in his hand and set them on the tabletop. "Ideally, we'd want to strike them now when the sun has yet to rise and the Death Eaters are just settling down. Unfortunately, our own forces aren't prepared for an assault and won't be for another few hours. Not to mention they're just plain exhausted, affecting their decision-making capabilities. We could give them stimulant potions to keep everyone alert and running, but it would still take several hours to move the potions here and distribute them."

"We must assume that the Death Eaters also have such stimulants," Moody growled. He leaned forward. "They may not actually be sleeping, but moving to attack as we speak."

"I agree," stated Scrimgeour. "There is no advantage to dragging it out. It would be to the Death Eater's advantage to attack soon. They have taken the whole of Hogsmeade, but their position at the Three Broomsticks is weak. We have the advantage here at the castle. Our undercover Aurors have also been able to enter and leave the village of their own volition. You-Know-Who does not intend to remain at Hogsmeade."

"Minister," Dumbledore said in an even tone, drawing Scrimgeour's attention to him. "Voldemort may very well be preparing to take over Hogwarts." Rufus Scrimgeour nodded and the other witches and wizards around the table shifted in their seats. "However, we hold the high ground in this castle. We are hardly under siege. Perhaps we could fortify our forces here and wait for Voldemort and his Death Eaters to make their attack," suggested the Headmaster.

"What do you think, Alastor?" the Minister asked.

"We'll need a contingency set up, so that our people can be in place as soon as there is any indication that the Death Eaters are on the move."

"Setting up here would be good," Robards agreed. "My Aurors can get some rest. In the meantime we'll need to bring in more personal and supplies. I'm also concerned about defenses for the Ministry. With all of our attention here, it would be an fair opportunity for them to return and overrun it."

"Close the Ministry to the public, put a few Aurors and all of the current trainees there," Moody suggested. "I don't believe the Death Eaters would return to the Ministry, but we should be prepared to fight on two fronts."

"Gawain," Scrimgeour said. "Call up your reserves. We'll draw up procedures to be carried out at once. Hopefully, everyone will be fed and rested by the time You-Know-Who attacks."

"Yes, sir," Gawain Robards replied standing up. He strode over to his subordinates and started issuing orders.

Scrimgeour faced the Headmaster. "Are there any students in the castle, presently?"

"Yes, there is a handful. I'll speak with Minerva about moving them to a safer location."

"Good." Scrimgeour felt satisfied that they were taking the second best course of action, as the first was unavailable to them. Now they just needed to gather their resources and hope for the best. "If you know of any other trusted people that can assist us, we would appreciate their help."

In response he got a light twinkle from Dumbledore's eyes. "I think I know a few."

The Minister gave another nod and turned to his remaining advisors while they quickly came up with plans of action. The Headmaster spoke with Professor McGonagall and the Head of the School Board Governors before retiring for a few hours. There was a constant flow of people moving in and out of the teacher's lounge. Minister Scrimgeour called over various Department Heads and continued planning into the early morning.

The Aurors landed harder than usual in Hogwarts' main entrance hall. Between them lay Severus Snape on a floating board. Moving swiftly, they directed the injured man to the Hospital Wing. The solid stone walls brought comfort to them.

The door to the Infirmary lay open and while there were still enough light to see with, it was dim enough for those who could were able to sleep. David spotted Harry and moved to his bedside.

"Harry," he whispered. David was about to gently nudge the youth's shoulder, but froze when he found Harry's wand at his neck. Harry's eyes were wide from waking suddenly and trying to place where he was.

"Sorry," Harry said. He lowered his wand and sat up, rubbing absent-mindedly at his scar. The boy felt a bit better now that he'd had a bit of rest. He tried to shake the grogginess from his body. "Any luck?"

"We found him," the Auror said flicking a glance towards Willard and Snape, "but he's not looking well."

Harry scooted off of his bed. "Put him here." The teen looked around the Infirmary. There were various tremors of magic around the room, but nothing that commanded his attention. He pulled the curtains around the bed so as to not disturb anyone who was trying to sleep. Harry pointed his wand at the nearest wall scone and murmured, "Lumos Maximus," so that only the bed and side table were lit.

They worked together to lift the skinny man from the makeshift stretcher to the bed. The wooden board stopped levitating and clattered to the floor noisily causing the three men to wince. Harry merely muttered a silencing charm to keep the noise from leaving the curtained off area.

Finally, the boy allowed himself to look down. Without even running a scan it was apparent that there was a lot that had to be done. Already he was going through the motions, waving his wand in patterns he had only mastered this night. Spell to insure oxygen was flowing into his lungs, spell to monitor his vitals, spell to detect malevolent magic, spell to detect injury…

"Did you happen to see a Healer out there?" Harry asked calmly. He wondered why he was so calm, why he really didn't feel anything when at the very least he should have felt overwhelmed. He figured it was probably adrenaline and was glad that his head was clear so that he could help the surgeon.

Willard stepped through the curtains. He was back moments later with a yawning Madame Rosmerta. "I'm sorry, Harry," she said. "The Healer had to return to Godric's Hollow, and he took our more critical patients. The Death Eaters had set fire to about half of the town and he couldn't leave his patients for any length of time."

Harry finished the rest of his spells with a shaky hand. "I can't do this," he whispered stepping back. "Er… we need Blood Replenishing Potion," Harry told the adults. Madame Rosmerta pulled a vial out of her apron and Harry gestured that she should administer it.

"I need to get going," whispered Willard in David's ear. David nodded and Willard quietly left the Infirmary. David rubbed his hand over his blond crew cut and continued to watch as the young mediwizard-in-training worked.

Harry spent a few moments inventorying the damage. The most obvious wounds were the lacerations that were liberally placed upon the Potions Master. His robes were shredded and all the cuts on his skin were still bleeding, having not the time to properly clot.

The spells Harry had cast also indicated internal damage; bruised organs, some kind of bronchitis, and a spinal injury of some sort. Harry quickly immobilized Snape's back. Also, there was some spell damage on his right leg. Harry waved his wand over the area, just above his knee. Harry furrowed his brow. The wand was flickering between a sickly yellow and purple glow. With his wand still in hand, Harry cautiously reached out and tentatively touched the leg. He frowned and felt the area around the hit.

"Uck," Harry said pressing on the frozen flesh and then the squishy bit next to it. "Did you see what he got hit with? Some kind of freezing charm, or something?" Harry pointed his wand very carefully. "Diffindo." The spell cut the fabric of Snape's trousers to expose the wound.

"We only saw the Death Eater cutting him up," said David.

"Merlin!" David said once he caught sight of the leg. Snape's skin and muscle seemed to have been freezing and thawing and then freezing again at the edges leaving a slurry of frozen flesh in the center.

"I think it's spreading," Harry said suddenly. He squinted at the wound and then pointed his wand at the edge of the damaged area. Nothing came to mind. The only marking spell he could think of at the moment was Flagrate, but he didn't know how the fiery marks would affect the injury. Harry raised his wand over their heads and pointed at Pomfrey's office. "Accio marker."

When the marker was in his hand, Harry quickly uncapped it and ran it around the edge of frozen and slushy skin. It was about the circumference of his closed fist. He also wrote the time before capping the black marker and tucking it in one of his robe pockets.

He picked up a thick reference book on Healing from the side table. He had left his own copy in the Three Broomsticks, but found an older edition in Poppy's office. "Where's Professor Sprout?" he asked as he flipped through the book.

"In the Potions Classroom," answered Rosmerta as she spelled the blood out of Snape's hair. She transfigured a few hairpins and set about pinning his hair back away from the bleeding gash. "Dumbledore wanted us to get some rest, but Pomona insisted on brewing some more healing potions."

"David," Harry called. "Go to the potions cupboard and see if you can find some Murtlap and, er, I can't remember what it's called. It's a purple potion."

"Sure, Doc." David's face relaxed as he was given a task to focus on.

Harry wiped his hands on his mediwizard robes. "Madame Rosmerta, if he finds the purple potion, I want you and Auror David to use it to sterilize the cuts before you heal them. 'Episkey' should mend most of them, but leave the deeper ones for me to examine first. Let me take a look at that one."

The woman moved aside and Harry leaned over the head wound. "It'll be fine, just clean it up and then close it. Use the Murtlap Essence, if we have any, to help it along."

"I'll do my best," she answered. She looked at the boy and noticed how much deeper the lines of his face were and how the single light above them covered him in deeper shadows. "You're doing very well yourself. How long have you been learning the art of Healing?"

"A few months," he said with a low voice. The curtain around Snape's bed was pulled aside and as soon as David stepped over the threshold they could hear the clinking of glass vials and jars.

"There were two purple ones," the Auror said. Harry took them both and examined the labels. He set down the jar of metallic violet paste off to the side.

David was left holding a jar in one hand and a vial in the other. "I didn't know if you wanted Murtlap or Murtlap Essence, so I brought them both."

Harry passed the half-full vial of purple liquid to Madame Rosmerta. "Here's the disinfectant."

Harry turned back to David. "We'll need both. Hand me the Murtlap. It's supposed to improve resistance to hexes and jinxes. I'm hoping it'll help with his leg."

David handed him a jar with sea anemone looking things in it. Harry popped open the lid and levitated one of the pickled growths onto a tray. Then he looked at his unconscious patient. Clenching his jaw tight, Harry proceeded to ignore the Murtlap waiting innocently on the tray.

Harry pointed his borrowed wand at Snape's right leg. "Ferula!" Bandages jumped out and wrapped around the leg. The teen's wand movements were sharp and abrupt. He remained silent, keeping his mouth closed tightly in a grimace.

David kept glancing up while he carefully removed the rest of Snape's destroyed robes and covered him with a hospital blanket.

Harry quickly moved to Snape's left arm. A few waves of his wand and it was roughly healed and bandaged. The white wrappings covered up the blackened snake and skull symbol. Harry hoped that the other two hadn't noticed the Dark Mark on Snape's forearm. Even though he had revealed to David that Snape was a spy, the three of them didn't need Voldemort's calling card staring them all in the face.

"You're not going to give him the Murtlap?" Rosmerta asked. She was healing a gash crossing Severus' shoulder.

"I can't." Harry walked around to other side of the bed and did the other arm in the same manner. "We can't feed it to him like this and I don't know how to spell it into his stomach." Harry swallowed. "I'm actually too scared to try. The stomach isn't that big of an organ and I could miss it completely.

"We'll have to keep him stabilized until a Healer becomes available," Harry said. His voice was a muffled. David looked up again to find Harry speaking into the thick Healing book. "We can finish closing up all the open wounds, and we can probably give him something for his lung damage." Harry jotted down a note, pausing only to reference the open book.

"David," Harry said. He held to a note out to the Auror. "Bring this to Professor Sprout and see if she can find it among Professor Snape's potions."

David took the note. "Dungeons, then? I'll be quick." The Auror left.

"Alright," Madame Rosmerta said. "That's the last of them. How's his leg doing?" She closed up the vials of potions and slipped them into her apron pockets.

Harry carefully removed the bandage from the hexed and jinxed leg. His hands felt warm compared to its iciness. "It's spread." He pulled out his marker again and ran it upon the ruined quadriceps. "It's alright," he said softly to Madame Rosmerta. "You can go." The woman nodded and went to check on the other patients also in the Infirmary.

Harry wrapped Snape's leg back up again with clean bandages; this time by hand. There was nothing he could else he could do to fix the damage to Snape's spine. When he was done he covered the prone man with a clean blanket and then pulled the curtains open. He removed the silencing spell and made his way around the Hospital Wing as well.

Most of the patients were sleeping. A few were having trouble sleeping due to pain or nightmares. Harry spoke quietly with a few of them and even had some house elves provide some breakfast for those that were hungry. All of his critical patients were gone, their empty beds clean and ready for the next casualty.

An hour later, Harry returned to Snape's side and sat in the chair. David had yet to return, but perhaps he had been called back on duty. Harry didn't know. He hadn't really known David or any of the Aurors that had helped him that night. Already Nick and the other, Frank, were gone.

Harry knew he was doing the best he could. He looked up at the man on the hospital bed. It frightened him that he didn't know what was wrong with Snape. Any other time it would have been perfectly all right, because if Madame Pomfrey didn't know what was wrong, they could always go to St. Mungos.

Well, that wasn't the case now. Whatever the situation was between Voldemort and the Ministry of Magic, their side had definitely lost something in that aspect. Harry covered his eyes with one hand. There wasn't anything else he could do. He had used up his resources, his talent, and intellect. He put to use every thing he had available and he was losing. He took a strained breath and shuddered. Harry Potter was losing.

Harry sat by his dying father and gave a small sob, hiding the pain in his eyes behind his hand.

The floo sputtered. Then it roared to life, large flames filling up the huge fireplace. At the same time the Infirmary doors opened and many voices drifted up the stone hallways.

Chapter Posted: July 22, 2008