White Heather for Protection

Afterwards

Once the others had finally left her alone to go do whatever they were doing, Heather cast a furtive glance around to make sure Poppy wasn't around before calling for Dobby.

"Mistress Heather! You bes awake! Oh, Dobby was ever so worried when he heard you were injured!" The elf wrung his hands tightly, almost punishingly so.

She shook her head and loosened his fists. "There there, Dobby. I'm alright, as you can see. How are the other house elves? Did you all stay safe during the battle?"

Dobby bobbed his large head vigorously. "Oh yes, Mistress Heather! We did like yous asked and made sure students and elfs were safe inside castle!"

She sighed in relief. "Good, good." She'd already known from Hadrian that the students were alright, but having it confirmed again helped. "I actually called you for a favour."

"Anything for you, Mistress Heather!" Dobby bounced on his feet and widened his bulbous eyes.

Quirking a smile at his enthusiasm, she said, "I'm still a little under the weather, so I was wondering if you could help pop me over to the infirmary? I want to check in on Severus."

"Of course!" the elf agreed eagerly.

Bless his little heart for not questioning her. If Poppy had gotten to him first, no doubt Heather wouldn't be going anywhere until she was fully recovered. Which was really unnecessary. She was fine like this.

She took Dobby's outstretched hand and braced herself for the strange sensation that was house elf travel. It was kind of easier than floo, but still disorientating. At least she didn't fall over at the end of it.

They reappeared outside the doors of the hospital wing. Probably out of consideration for the people convalescing inside.

"Thanks Dobby," she whispered.

He beamed, ears flopping around in happiness. "Please summon me if yous have any other wishes!" With that, he popped away again.

She carefully cracked open the door, peering inside to see if Poppy was inside. Thankfully, no enraged mediwitch came swooping down on her for being out of her makeshift cot in the Great Hall. She stepped inside, shutting the door gently behind her.

The beds reserved for staff were towards the back of the infirmary to prevent curious students from disturbing their teachers when they were unwell. She made her way there, finding Severus easily in one of the single rooms.

The dim nightlight cast an eerie pallor over the man. For a moment, her heart leapt at the sight of him looking so corpse-like. She blinked away those errant thoughts and took a seat next to his bed.

There were stained bandages wrapped around his neck and he was clearly having a hard time breathing. She was still too drained to sense the spells on him now, but she assumed there was some sort of respiratory support in play.

She could still remember the torrential bleeding from his wound, feel the warm sticky liquid coating her hands. He'd lost so much blood. It was honestly a miracle he'd survived.

Were there enough Blood replenishers in stock?

Right, Slughorn was probably capable of supplying the necessary potions.

Heather reached for one of Severus' hands, frowning at how cold it felt. Feeling her magic, she winced. Well, no warming charm then. She went and got a few extra blankets, covering Severus and tucking the edges in carefully.

"You're going to be just fine," she whispered.

Honestly, the stupid man. Who jumped in front of the freaking hydra? And he'd done it, no hesitation at all. Otherwise, it would be her brother in this state now.