Go the Distance

Chapter 3

~~*>*~~

She pulled him from his death and now she would leave him to the darkness? Why? A whim? The burning arrogance to be the saviour? Bloody Gryffindor's nettlesome tendency to charge in, head first, without any regard as to the havoc their blundering would cause?  Words falling on deaf ears. Did he have no will left of his own? Peace had been just the other side of the misty grey river. Death at a young age had always been in his cards. Condemned probably the moment he was born. He had lived in shadow all his life. That was always going to end badly. And, in the end, he welcomed it. No more memories, no pain, no constant struggle. No fear. In actuality, he was tired and longed for peace. 

~~*>*~~

Harry stared again at the gaping  angry wound at the throat of his former professor. He could still feel the blood pulsing warm over his hands as he tried to mitigate the gushing red torrent, back at the Shrieking Shack. Not much flowing now; perhaps because of the nearly dead thing. The wound needed tending, dead or not. 

Then he remembered. The confrontation with Draco last year. That blasted spell, Sectumsempra. He should not have used it without knowing its effect. His thought drifted to Draco lying in an expanding pool of crimson. Then Snape was towering over him, staring dangerously, before leaving him in a flash to bend down next to the fallen Slytherin. The slender grace of his wand movement slowly over the boy's body, murmuring  something. What was it? Oh yes! It might help now. At the very least it could close his torn throat. Harry centered his wand above Snape's upper body. Wand movement was a slow deliberate counter-clockwise motion as he spoke the incantation,

"Vulnera Sanentur."

At his amazement, the gaping wound began to close. The seeping blood traveling back into severed vessels. Why hadn't he remembered this at the shack? He might have saved the man then. Had he forgotten, conveniently, on purpose? No, no. A lot had happened, was happening. War, Voldemort. He simply forgot. The boy repeated the healing spell as the Potions Master had done for Draco,

"Vulnera Sanentur."

Hermione sniffed back a tear as she watched Harry try the impossible. 

"Vulnera Sanentur."

They couldn't save him. Could they? The sweet surrounding fragrance of the grotto had filled her head almost unnoticed. Then she sniffed again with purpose. Her attention immediate turned to her Head of House, 

"Professor, dittany! And chamomile. Echinacea and feverfew. He's covered in a blanket of it. Maybe he didn't come here to die. Maybe he came here to heal!" 

 Reaching into her expandable bag for more dittany her fingers fell upon several small bottles. Of course!

"Professor, I have blood replenishing potions! I'd forgotten... with the battle and everything. I had them when we were on the run."

Minerva's eyes shot wide. She loved her Gryffindors,

"Clever girl! Give it to me."

With a flick of her wand the older witch set about clearing Severus' airway and gullet,

"Anapneo!"

While Harry continued to heal Snape's injury, Minerva pried open Severus' mouth and poured in the potion.

~~*>*~~

He paced in the darkness. Heal?  Yes, initially. He had taken the antivenin for years, beginning after Voldemort's return with that damn snake. He always had plenty of potions with him, especially this last year. Everyone was trying to kill him! He had prepared this place as a temporary escape. Only in the last few months had he come to regard this as his final resting place.