SUTURES

 

By W.M. Achrya

Spring 1983; post-GodricÕs Hollow, pre-PhilosopherÕs Stone

 

The cauldron exploded.

The window panes of the laboratory rattled but held. Cauldron shards shot in all directions, taking splashes of the hot potion with them.

The graduate studentsÕ laboratory erupted into havoc, people vociferously surveying their largely non-existent damage and injuries, or just wondering in loud exclamations what the devil had happened.

The unfortunate pair of experimenters at the offending bench looked dazedly at each other as they slowly realised their fortunate escape without a single scratch or stain.

At the neighbouring bench, a heavy-set woman with short-cropped brown hair quickly moved through the confusion to the sink in the corner. She removed her eyeglasses, turned on the tap and put her face under the stream of water.

The pale, slender, black-clad young man who had shared her cauldron decanted the result of their own work into a blue glass bottle without spilling a drop. He put a cut-glass stopper in the bottle, wiped his hands and with only a couple of long strides joined the woman at the sink.

He leaned over her: ÒCatrin, did you get any of that in your eyes?Ó

ÒMy left eye, yes. IÕm rinsing out as much as I can.Ó

 

The man in the black robes pounced on the owner of the exploded cauldron and shook him like a terrier might shake a rat.

ÒWhat did you put in it?!Ó

ÒI donÕt know. I followed the instructions.Ó

ÒNo, you didnÕt, you dolt, you must have changed something!!!Ó

ÒI donÕt... I thought...Ó

ÒYou did not think!!! So think now, what was it, we need the antidote!!!Ó

The group fell silent, shocked by the vicious attack by this quiet young man who rarely said anything not related to their course work.

 

The woman straightened up from the sink, her face, hair and the front of her robes sopping wet, water-diluted blood trickling from a cut across her left eyebrow.

ÒLeave it, Severus. The gear probably wasnÕt clean. We wonÕt find a specific antidote. Do you have bezoar tincture?Ó

Bezoar. The universal antidote. Severus visibly forced himself to calm down. He shoved the culprit aside and returned to Catrin.

ÒYes, I have some at home. Let me go get it.Ó

ÒNo. Take me along, youÕll treat me there. ItÕll be faster and calmer.Ó

He put an arm about her shoulders in preparation for sidelong Apparition.

ÒBring my bag,Ó she reminded him.

He picked up the black leather MediwitchÕs bag under the work bench.

Catrin put her arms around his waist. Together, they Disapparated.

 

- - - - - - - - -

They popped into visibility in the middle of SeverusÕ spacious, sparsely furnished bed sitter.

ÒCome,Ó he said. ÒThe bedÕs over here.Ó

ÒWe donÕt want a soft, wobbly bed,Ó she corrected. ÒYou need something firmer if youÕre going to treat me. The rug on the floor will do fine.Ó

She was holding a handkerchief to her left eye, surveying the room with her near-sighted right one.

ÒGet the bezoar,Ó she said. ÒWhere do you keep your linen?Ó

ÒCupboard, over there,Ó he gestured to the right.

With a simple flick of her fingers, she Accioed a bed-sheet and a towel and had them spread out neatly on the rug. A wave of her wand covered and sealed their surface with a cleansing spell. She stretched out on the sheet, the towel under her head, with an audible sigh that was almost a groan. She rested a moment and, as an afterthought, she Accioed a large flat cushion from the couch and placed it by her head.

 

Meanwhile, the man had unlocked the spells around a heavy oaken chest and removed a small brown glass bottle from it. Catrin heard a splash of liquid and a light clink of glass against glass.

ÒWhat are you doing?Ó

ÒDiluting the bezoar tincture. One part, to four parts normal saline.Ó

ÒDonÕt. IÕve had this crap in my eye for too long, we need the antidote to work fast.Ó

ÒYou canÕt put concentrated bezoar in your eye!Ó

ÒIt isnÕt harmful, just uncomfortable. The tears will dilute it anyway.Ó

He set down the glass beaker, undecided.

ÒIÕm a qualified Mediwitch, damn it! LetÕs have two drops of the tincture in my eye, now! IÕd do it myself, but youÕll be more accurate.Ó

His mouth tightened, but he picked up a tiny amount of the liquid in a dropper and kneeled on the cushion by her head.

ÒAre you in pain?Ó he asked gently.

ÒYes, it smarts like hell, and I'm afraid for my eye. ThatÕs why I shouted at you. IÕm sorry.Ó

He nudged her hand holding the handkerchief, and she removed it from her eye.

He tried to remain impassive, but could not suppress a flinch at the sight of her injury.

ÒYou have a bad cut here,Ó he said. ÒIt wonÕt stop bleeding.Ó

ÒFace injuries will look messier than they are. Just smack a compress on it, weÕll deal with it later. In my bag,Ó she added when she noticed his momentary confusion.

She waved her hand in the direction of the bag and spoke the password that lowered its wards.

Severus put down the dropper next to her head and opened the black bag. The contents were neat and orderly. He rolled his wand between his hands in a cleansing spell, picked up a sterile package, tore it open and extracted a piece of gauze. Gently and carefully he mopped the blood from her eyebrow and forehead, discarded the gauze and laid another clean compress over the wound.

His face was tense, his eyes wide, but his hands worked with economic, purposeful precision.

He picked up the dropper.

ÒAre you really sure you want this?Ó

ÒNo, I donÕt want it, but itÕs necessary. Talk me through it... please.Ó

ÒAll right.Ó His voice sank into a low, nearly hypnotic mode.

ÒClose both your eyes lightly and relax as much as you can. IÕll breathe and focus with you.Ó

She let herself float on the sound of his voice, focusing on the air filling her body cavity and on the relaxation brought on by each deep exhalation. She sensed his breath matching hers, and mentally leaned on the sensation for support.

ÒThere. Now, do absolutely nothing. Just focus on your breathing. IÕm going to open your eye with my fingers.Ó

Gently, firmly, his thumb and index finger spread her eyelids.

The air smarted her injured eye, but she took another deep breath and kept still.

He approached the dropper to her eye.

 

ÒThis will feel very, very cold, and quite nasty. But itÕs just two drops.Ó

ÒGo ahead,Ó she said.

ÒLook up.Ó

Her pupil rolled up towards her eyebrow.

ÒInhale, and hold your breath.Ó

She complied.

ÒSteady now. Exhale.Ó

As she let out her breath, he released one drop of the amber liquid inside her lower eyelid.

Her breath ended on a loud, shaky gasp.

His fingers released her eyelids and covered her eye for a brief moment.

ÒGood. Once more now. Look down.Ó

He spread her eyelids again. The pupil rolled in the direction of her cheek and held steady.

ÒInhale, and hold your breath.Ó

Again she complied, somewhat raggedly.

ÒAlmost there,Ó he murmured gently. ÒExhale.Ó

Below her upper eyelid, another drop. Another gasp.

He released her eyelids and her eye closed, flooded with tears.

ÒThatÕs it, thatÕs it,Ó he murmured. ÒYouÕll be all right. You have the antidote now.Ó

 

It felt as though not just a grain of sand, but an entire desert had lodged itself in her eye. Instinctively she raised a hand to rub it, but encountered his hands lightly covering both her eyes. His voice was there, steadying and grounding her.

ÒKeep your arms along your body and try to relax. WeÕll let the bezoar act for a while and then IÕll rinse your eye.Ó

ÒThatÕs three to five minutes, isnÕt it,Ó she noted.

ÒYes.Ó

ÒStay with me?Ó

ÒOf course.Ó

He swept his right hand across her forehead, as if to smooth away a non-existent strand of hair, and let his hand return to her eye.

ÒGive me five minutes, then,Ó she requested in a steady voice.

He raised his head and looked at a clock on his desk. ÒTimer,Ó he intoned, Òfive minutes.Ó

ÒFive minutes,Ó repeated a metallic voice.

Severus shifted from his kneeling position to sitting cross-legged behind CatrinÕs head, his elbows supported by his knees, his head lowered, his hands lightly covering her eyes.

He looked up as if trying to remember something. A barely noticeable blush spread over his face. He lowered his head again and, in a very low voice, began murmuring a simple song.

His blush dissipated and a sense of warmth, calm and comfort filled the room. CatrinÕs breathing settled and her lips parted slightly as her face relaxed.

 

- - - - - - - - -

 

ÒTimeÕs up, timeÕs up, timeÕs up!Ó called the metallic voice of the clock.

Severus raised his head, rolled his shoulders and ran the backs of his curled fingers across CatrinÕs cheek.

ÒAll right?Ó he asked.

ÒYes. Thank you so much.Ó

ÒYouÕre welcome. Keep your eyes closed for a while. I have to get up, to get the saline.Ó

He could have Accioed the bottle, but she sensed the discomfort in his legs and understood that he needed to move.

He stood up with a low grunt and stretched his legs before going over to his desk. He brought a clear plastic bottle and a large dropper, that he filled from the bottle. Then he returned to his kneeling position on the cushion at CatrinÕs head.

ÒI have normal saline solution here,Ó he said. ÒIt may be a bit cold, but it will make your eye feel better. Do nothing at all, let me handle it.Ó

 

As before, he spread her eyelids and approached the dropper to her eye.

ÒHere goes.Ó

He released a large, soft drop of the clear liquid into her eye, then another one, and another.

This time Catrin sighed with relief.

ÒOh, thatÕs good. Wonderful. More.Ó

ÒComing up,Ó he said as he re-filled the dropper.

He rinsed her eye thoroughly to remove as much of the tincture as possible. Then he released her eyelids.

ÒBlink hard a couple of times.Ó

She did as he told her, and sat up.

ÒHow does it feel?Ó he inquired.

ÒFine.Ó There was no mistaking the relief in her beaming smile. ÒPerfect.Ó

ÒCan you see?Ó

ÒMore or less. I left my glasses in the lab.Ó

He took her glasses out of his breast pocket and handed them to her.

She put them on and winced as she carelessly touched the wound on her forehead.

She turned around to face him, also on her knees.

ÒThank you, thank you, thank you,Ó she took both his hands in hers. ÒYouÕve saved my eye.Ó

ÒYou were quite active in the process,Ó he said wryly, and added more softly: ÒAnd very brave.Ó

She pulled a face. ÒHumph! WhatÕs so brave about wanting to keep my eyesight?Ó

ÒIf you say so,Ó he replied. ÒBut you still have that cut. May I have a look?Ó

ÒFeel free.Ó She took off her glasses and flopped down on her back on the rug again.

 

Severus tried to lift the piece of gauze on her eyebrow, but it stuck, and he hissed in sympathy.

He moistened another compress with saline solution and dabbed at the wound to release the gauze. Soon it came unstuck, but the wound began bleeding again. He touched it gently here and there, examining its length and depth.

ÒI think you need stitches,Ó he said.

ÒVery likely. Get me a mirror.Ó

He raised his hand, a small mirror zipped from his bedside table and landed in it. He handed it to Catrin. She sat up again and held the mirror close to her face to compensate for her bad eyesight. She pulled and poked at the wound intently.

ÒYouÕre right,Ó she said. ÒThree stitches at least, four would be better. And as soon as possible. We canÕt do magic on my face for at least twelve hours so it doesnÕt interfere with the after-effects of the bezoar, and by that time IÕd end up looking like the Bride of Frankenstein.Ó

ÒIÕll take you to a Muggle hospital,Ó he suggested. ÒTheyÕll be able to anaesthetize and suture you without magic.Ó

ÒTry it, Severus, and IÕll jinx your balls.Ó

He winced. ÒWhatÕs the problem?Ó

ÒI donÕt intend to spend hours in a crowded waiting room to have some anonymous butcher poke at my face.Ó

ÒSo what do you suggest?Ó

ÒYou stitch me up.Ó

ÒMe?!Ó He scrambled to his feet.

ÒOf course,Ó she said calmly, looking up at him. ÒYou have good enough training.Ó

ÒYes,Ó he replied with an exasperated sigh, Òbut I have no Muggle anaesthetics, and even if I did, I wouldnÕt know how to use them.Ó

He was pacing the room, his hands clenched behind his back.

ÒThereÕs no need. ItÕs just four stitches.Ó

ÒCatrin, you canÕt ask that of me.Ó

ÒWhy not? I know you. I trust you. And IÕve seen you throw perfectly neat sutures on squirming furry guinea pigs in the lab. At least my face isnÕt furry, and I promise not to squirm.Ó

ÒCatrin, please, donÕt ask me to hurt you any more than I already have.Ó

She thought for a moment, then said: ÒAll right, weÕll freeze it, if it makes you feel better.Ó

ÒWhat?Ó

ÒCold. It numbs the tissues. Do you have something like a bag of peas in the freezer?Ó

ÒWell... yes.Ó

ÒGet it for me, and a clean tea towel.Ó

Her overwhelming trust literally made him dizzy. In an effort to clear his head, he walked to the kitchen to get the items without magic.

 

Catrin wrapped the bag of frozen peas in the towel and held it against her forehead. She imagined the funny picture that she made, and laughed at it, but Severus was in no humorous mood. He laced his fingers together, clenched them hard and pressed them to his chin. He stared down at her, eyes wide. Then he released his hands, stretched his arms along his sides and clenched and unclenched his fists.

ÒCatrin, I donÕt know...Ó he begun.

ÒCome on,Ó she interrupted him in a conversational tone. ÒJust get on with it. WhereÕs your suture kit?Ó

She stretched out on her back on the floor again, and looked at him intently past the cold towel-wrapped package.

ÒIn the lab,Ó he answered.

ÒAll right, then, youÕll use mine. ItÕs in the bag.Ó

He kneeled on the cushion again and rummaged in the black bag. Soon, too soon in his opinion, he found the small black zippered case, just like his own. He opened it.

ÒYouÕll find a couple of extra thin, needled ones on the left,Ó Catrin instructed.

He did find them, and took out one of the sterile envelopes.

ÒAnother thing.Ó He heard his own voice as if from a distance.

ÒIÕll have to use Muggle disinfectant.Ó

ÒFlat brown bottle,Ó she directed calmly. ÒIn one of the middle holders. And you know where the gauze is.Ó

He found all the materials, laid them out on the towel and settled down cross-legged by her head again. Slowly and thoroughly he renewed the cleaning charm on his hands. Catrin put aside the towel with the frozen peas.

When he cleaned the wound, she only closed her eyes, but did not flinch or make a sound.

 

He ripped open the suture pack, picked up the curved needle and held it up for the curled-up suture to straighten. He felt his movements become automatic. Still, he shivered when Catrin looked up at him.

ÒPlease, donÕt worry if I grunt and groan,Ó she commented. ÒIÕm no hero when it comes to pain. Just go on. I promise not to fidget.Ó

She sensed his effort to brace himself.

ÒGo ahead,Ó she said. ÒI really do want you to do it.Ó

ÒClose your eyes, please,Ó he said. She flashed him a brief smile and complied.

ÒIÕll be as gentle as I possibly can,Ó he went on, Òbut it is going to hurt.Ó

He bit his lips and took a deep, steadying breath. This time she was the one to match her breathing to his as they grounded and focused each other.

He pressed the heel of his hand against her forehead to steady them both, held the edges of the wound together, and applied the needle. Catrin exhaled with a deep, groaning ÔaaaahhhhÕ as the needle penetrated the skin. When he pulled the suture through, her hands grasped the sheet at her sides. She felt him tie the first knot, and pushed herself into deeper relaxation. Then there was no more sound from her, and no movement, as he placed the remaining three stitches.

 

- - - - - - - - -

 

She felt a drop of something wet on her forehead, and opened her eyes. Severus was still leaning over her, sweat trickling down his face. She groped for the tea towel and lifted it to wipe his forehead.

ÒAre you all right, Master Surgeon?Ó she asked in a gently mocking tone.

ÒCatrin, you incorrigible old clown,Ó he gave an exasperated laugh. ÒI torture you, and you poke fun at me?Ó

He let her wipe his face, although her ministrations at the awkward angle were getting rather more sweat in his eyes. Then he took the towel from her and finished the job himself.

ÒWhereÕs the mirror?Ó

He handed it to her, and she examined his handiwork.

ÒHmm, nice embroidery,Ó she said. ÒA really neat job. This shouldnÕt leave much of a scar.Ó

She settled back to let him cover the wound with a light bandage. Then she sat up and put on her glasses.

ÒWell... Thank you again,Ó she said.

And then, in a tone of mock royalty: ÒWill you be my personal surgeon, Master Severus?Ó

She extended a limp-wristed hand to him.

He picked up the game: ÒThank you for your gracious offer, Your Ladyship.Ó

He took her proffered hand and kissed it.

ÒBut...Ó he continued in earnest, ÒIÕd rather not, if you donÕt mind. I hope I never have to do this again. Please take care of yourself.Ó

ÒIÕll try, I promise. But, if necessary, I do hope youÕll be there.Ó

ÒIÕll do my best.Ó

ÒMe too,Ó she said.

 

Severus collected the equipment and returned every piece to its proper place. He re-locked his potions chest, and Catrin locked and warded her bag. They tidied away the blood-stained linen and the cushion.

Then Severus said: ÒYou know what? IÕm starving.Ó

ÒMe too,Ó Catrin laughed.

She looked at the thawing bag of peas in her hand.

ÒWhat do you have that goes with peas?Ó

 

 

 

 

 

 

If you want to know how Severus lost his virginity,

read the next story.

 

 

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please return to the contents page to choose another story, or

move on to the next period: after DumbledoreÕs death.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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September 2007