A/N: After many, many years, I am back to re-view and re-word this story and change a few things to make it flow better :) Thanks for all the support throughout the years! I hope to someday return to the HGSS fandom with another viral story :) Thanks, again! :D
I Find Comfort in Pain
Chapter 1: The Pain
He was shaking in cold and pain, stumbling through the forest as he struggled for air. He had a long way to go, and he couldn't stop now; it was too important to get there in time.
He fell. Lying on the cold, hard ground, he slowly turned to lie on his back. He lied there, on the ground, for about two minutes, but he couldn't allow himself to rest; he wouldn't.
Standing up on shaky legs, he leaned onto a tree.
"Stupid, damned leg!" he muttered as he started walking again.
Minutes passed, and he felt more and more tired. The pain was unbearable; it felt as if every bone in his body was on fire, and it felt like a thousand needles were sticking his skin. Yet it made him feel alive; made him remember he was still human.
Several deep cuts leaked blood and one eye was blinded by it as it seeped thickly from one over his left brow. He angrily wiped it away, but the blood kept falling anyway (he had no energy to spare for shallow healing spells, and he still had his right eye to see by, so it didn't really matter).
The creatures in the forest watched him as he walked. He had been there before, and he hadn't done them anything, so they left him alone and he was thankful for that. He couldn't stand up for a fight this time, anyway. Of curse, he had been worse, but he hadn't been deep in a forest back then.
'Only about half a mile left, not so far,' he kept telling himself. He looked straight in front of him, carefully scanning the forest for threats. He saw nothing; it was dark, soon to be midnight. Stroking away some raven black hair - stiff from dried blood and sweat - which had fallen before his eyes, he winced. Placing a hand over his ribs, where the sudden stroke of pain had came from, he muttered a curse. "Broken ribs!"
He was now not far away from his destination, he could even see the stars between the treetops. The forest was getting less dense, but he wouldn't hope on too much. He knew that consequences of that. He only hoped that he would get to the castle in time, and that he wouldn't pass out before telling him about their plan.
And although he knew he wasn't really trusted anyway, he didn't care. In a way, this was his real life. This was truth. He wasn't made for a life in happiness; he was destined to be the black soul seeking for the light. He hadn't found it yet, no matter what Albus Dumbledore told him. And pretending to be a faithful servant to the Dark Lord and at the same time being a spy...it had, understandably, its bad sides (which was, he mused, somewhat of an understatement). He had to prove that he was faithful for both his Masters. While one of them sent him away to gather information, and risking his life, the other one made him kill, torture, and rape. He preferred the one making him risk his life; Albus Dumbledore.
When young, he had wanted to do nothing else than follow the Dark Lord to death, but now, after several years of learning hard lessons, he knew better.
Severus Snape shook his head to clear his thoughts.
"Not far away, keep going…" he said in a hoarse voice, trying to distract himself with any sound other than the eerie background noise of the enchanted forest... The pain was getting stronger, it really wouldn't be long until he would collapse.
But finally, he reached the forest edge. Stumbling out of the forest, he moaned in pain, starting to walk up towards the castle before he gave in to the urge to simply lie down and close his eyes (forever, maybe).
"When the soul doesn't hurt, the body does," he said, sneering, as he reached the big entrance door. Coming to a stop, finally, Severus took a deep breath before pushing the door open. He winced in pain as he took in short, sharp breaths.
'Bloody great, only a few stairs to climb…'
Looking up at the first stair, he groaned. 'How to do this,' he thought.
With great difficulty, he reached the first floor, slowly making his way through the corridors towards the other staircases. When he rounded a corner, he heard a gasp. It sounded like a female, but he couldn't really tell. Looking around for anything, or anyone, he saw nothing.
"Who's there? Come out." His voice was harsh, and his eyes wild. He knew, rationally, that it could be a student out of bed, but his mind was only thinking about dangers and possible threats at this time (his ribs were broken, the blood kept stinging his eye, and he couldn't really walk straight any more).
He heard deep breathing, and soon he heard footsteps. Looking around once again, he finally saw who it was, hiding in the shadows.
"Miss Granger!" he barked, pain lacing his voice and making it more high-pitched than usual. "What are you doing out of bed? Where are Potter and Weasley?" he wondered, but didn't really care, because surely Potter would be laughing now? "20 points from Gryffindor," it was only fair, seeing him like this. "Now, get out of my sight!"
Hermione Granger stared at him with big, wide eyes and her mouth hanging slightly open in a rather unattractive way.
"Professor? What's happened?"
He sneered at her, shaking his head. "I believe that it's none of your business, Miss Granger. Now, go…away!"
She didn't listen; she only took one step closer to him making him shiver; stay away, don't look, don't see this weakness, this revulsion. "Do you need to get to the Headmaster? Have you been at one of those Death Eater meetings? I can help you; I can go and fetch Professor Dumbledore!"
If you'd only let me, hung unspoken between them. Severus meet her worried - disgustingly naïve, horribly stupid and innocent - gaze. Her eyes, like chocolate, in the faint light of the moon, he noticed. "Miss Granger, I wouldn't accept your help if I really didn't need it," he hissed between clenched teeth, fighting the urge to lean completely against the wall closest to him, "But I do need someone to...lean on," and it almost hurt physicallt to admit it, "if I'm going up all the way to his office. He wouldn't...like to go up in the middle of the night just to see this," he finally finished, sneering, promptly making Hermione speechless.
She took a deep breath before nodding and walking over to him; he reluctantly laid his arm around her shoulders to support himself. She helped him steady himself before they walked in silence towards the stairs, neither willing to add to the uncomfortable circumstances (was her next words going to cost her more points? Was she laughing at him, even now, as he bled?).
Hermione watched him out of the corner of her eye, and he looked so tired; his face covered with several cuts and bruises. His sharp, crooked nose made him look dangerous and his pale skin (marred with blue, purple, green and yellow marks, among all the red flowing so freely) made him seem like something vulnerable. 'Strange combinations,' Hermione thought, 'for something so rigidly wicked'. Wicked, but not cruel. Not heartless, she'd learned.
Slowly, and most unwelcome at that, her blood went hot as she felt his body's warmth when he tightened his grip around her. A sting of pain had hit him unsuspectingly as he twisted in her grip, making him moan in pain as he struggled to keep on walking. She stiffened in his arms, and he quickly eased his grip, afraid to have hurt her (yet he cursed himself for such a foolish reaction; who cared if he squeezed her too tight? Who cared if she was too fragile? Certainly not him).
She met his eyes and shook her head. "I'm sorry, I was just afraid that you would faint."
He looked away, not quite sure what to say and finding himself with too little energy to lash out anyway...but he watched her closely, for any sign of pain or exhaustion he might've caused her. He didn't want to owe this brat anything, after all.
Finally reaching the Headmaster's office, Severus stopped.
"Miss Granger, I will make it from here," he said, voice stilted and eyes firmly locked onto the gargoyle before him. He didn't know if he would make it, though. He hadn't just suffered from superficial abuse, but there was no reason to keep the insufferable know-it-all around any longer than necessary (weakness had always left him with a bad taste, but even more so if someone would happen to witness it. He remembered the first days of his double-play with Dumbledore, the fool, and the Dark Lord...he had never quite known humiliation until then, despite the efforts of...Potter and Black and those other...despicable creatures).
Her annoyingly light, even voice broke his train of thought. "Are you sure, Professor? It looks like you are in a lot of pain."
He met her eyes, exploring the depths of them, trying to see beyond the disgustingly fake concern, the goody-two-shoes attitude, the laughingly naïve need to please... But there was nothing beyond it, just a painfully genuine...distress.
Finally, he pulled away. With a apined hitch of breath, he mumbled quite unexpectedly, "I find comfort in pain, comfort I find nowhere else." Why? He didn't know.
With some considerate difficulty, he slowly climbed the stairs leading to Dumbledore's office.
Hermione stood looking after him as he disappeared into the office, hoping he would be all right, although she doubted that he would be seen for awhile. He had been in severe pain, and she wasn't stupid (the smell of blood was still clogging her nose, and she knew without looking there would be dark stains on her white sleeve). The Dark Lord would've used more that just cutting spells, to make him gasp for air like that (broken ribs, she was sure).
Unwillingly, her sight fogged with unshed tears as she thought of what he went through on a, most likely, daily basis (hate the mudbloods, curse Potter, worship the Dark Lord...and report back to Dumbledore, protect the Chosen One, bear the hatred, the pain...). As she walked back to the Gryffindor common room, however, Hermione thought of where else he could find comfort, if he'd only let her, let someone, be there.
A/N: Don't forget to review :)
