Severus Snape, undoubtedly just as Madam Pomfrey had done earlier this year, read the entire three-part novel that was the girl's medical history. As they suspected, they had tried... a lot.
A blood curse? No, no. Blood curses have a sudden offset, and they don't vary in intensity once they begin manifesting themselves. Was it caused by a specific spell injury? Or is it something that just started happening for no reason? Her files, strangely, didn't give a straight answer. They only mentioned she was very silent as a child, and that could lead equally to both conclusions. The episodes, are they really just episodes, or is there a pattern to them? Maybe there's an external cause no one managed to find, though not for the lack of trying. It was most certainly not a lingering spell, as he could feel no trace of magic, neither charm not legillimentic.
Just what was it? They'd managed to find cures for most illnesses of the Wizarding World. Dragon Pox now safely eradicated, there weren't many physical ailments left that could slay a witch or wizard. Broken bones - not to worry! Missing bones? A little more difficult, but entirely possible! Burns, cuts, scrapes - just a wave of the wand. Werewolf bites? Well best not to touch upon that right now. Antidotes for most poisons - both man made and of venomous beasts - were knows, for those dexterous enough to brew them. And it was highly unlikely that the girl stumbled upon some rare tropical brute in her uncle's or father's mansions, apart from white peacocks. Lucius did like to stick with a theme. And opulence flowed through that one's mind like blood through veins.
And yet... And yet...
Nothing had incentivized Severus Snape's curiosity like this for years. Intrigued equally by the mystery and the fate of his dead friend's child, he moved toward the Hospital Wing. He had, naturally, waited until the other girl was allowed to leave.
As long as the child agreed, it couldn't hurt to ask a few questions and try other ideas. Indeed the grand doors to the Hospital Wing were cracked opened, swaying slightly with a soft breeze. Vivenna a bed inside, close enough that he could see her features in the dim light. He could see Vivenna's face, hand against her temple, staring at the pages spread before her. Vivenna's eyes were haunted, her expression haggard. Through the hospital robes, outlines of bones were peaking out, as if her skin was stretching to contain them. She looked skeletal. The usual robes hid that. This was not the Vivenna that anyone was accustomed to seeing. The confidence had been overwhelmed by exhaustion, the poise replaced by worry. Vivenna started to write something, but stopped after just a few words. She set down her quill, closing her eyes and massaging her temples.
Severus Snape pulled back, suddenly feeling as if he'd intruded upon a private moment. An ill child with her defenses down. There were cracks in the mask. He actually began to creep away, but then remembered an old friend...
Anubius. Always able to bring a little light on the darkest of days.
Yes, he could see the resemblance now that he thought about it. The young fool could have buried himself in books if you didn't remind him humans should eat and sleep now and then. And it was also impressive how many books one could fit at the dining tables in the great hall - assuming one didn't mind the food materializing right on top of it all. He'd made such a fuss about that...
Severus Snape put on a mask of his own and then knocked.
"Yes? Oh, professor. I wasn't expecting you, sir."
"Indeed," He said, but became preoccupied with the door, as he gave her time to reset herself. "I should speak to Argus. It won't close properly."
Vivenna frowned, now sitting up with proper posture. "Couldn't a spell be used, sir?"
"Probably. Though the castle reacts curiously to spells sometimes. Some it allows, some it does not..."
Severus Snape stepped in and closed the door, though the latch didn't catch. He stepped forward, hands clasped.
