A/N: This is the third and final installment of the Green Trilogy, the first two stories of which can be found on my profile page. So...read those first. :)

CHAPTER ONE

Brain Damage

There was no reason for me to be sitting so close to the fireplace, barefoot and staring unseeingly into the golden flames. More than once, a burning ember burst free of the fire and singed my skin, but I didn't move. In fact, the pain felt refreshing, jolting me from the numbness that had settled in my body.

The rug beneath me was dusty. I could have cleaned it up with a flick of my wand, but I didn't. I just kept staring, occasionally fiddling with one of the white dress shoes that lay beside me. I'd lift it on its heel before flicking it over, then repeating the process. Lift, flick, lift, flick, over and over, and then over again.

My knees supported my chin, the silky material of the white dress robes caressing the skin there. The dress had more than one burn hole in it now, and I should have moved away, but nerves held me still until the sound of footsteps long overdue caught my attention.

I turned my head, spotting the man in black robes in a nearby doorway. He stood there for a while, staring at a spot somewhere to my right, before he crossed the living space into what I presumed was the kitchen after hearing a clattering of dishes.

Sighing, I turned back to the fire. We hadn't spoken a word to each other yet, though my mind was overflowing with far too many questions to voice. The only thing I knew for certain was that I was in the dungeons of Hogwarts, sitting on the floor of the living quarters of one Professor Severus Snape, my husband.

I practically choked on my breath at the thought that I was not only married, but wedded to one of my professors here at school. One who seemed to dislike me a fair amount at that. The questions cascaded through my thoughts, but they blinked from existence as Snape appeared beside me, settling himself on the neglected carpet, and placing a platter of tea and biscuits between us.

I wanted to say thank you, I really did, but the words stuck in my throat, held captive by confusion and cautiousness. So I opted for lifting one of the biscuits to occupy my mouth with chewing.

Snape poured the tea, wordlessly handing me one of the cups. I accepted it, and we drank in silence.

The tea was surprisingly delicious, more creamy than sweet, and warming up my insides better than any magical chocolate could have. My nerves seemed to settle somewhat, and I straightened from my hunched position a bit. I could see Snape from the corner of my vision, the man staring into the flames just as I had been. His face, as always, was impossibly blank.

Snagging another biscuit from the tray, I realised rather abruptly that although I was cautious and questioning, I wasn't uncomfortable or afraid. I hurried to put the biscuit in my mouth before my hand could tremble from the shock of this realisation. "I should at least be uncomfortable," I thought to myself.

When the tray was empty, Snape moved to take it away. Without consciously deciding to, I snatched it up with reflexes born of Quidditch training and lifted myself to my feet. Snape didn't say anything as I walked away and into the kitchen. There, I found Mimi and Vinny busily preparing something, and Vinny came over to take the tray from me. Mimi handed me two glasses of butterbeer, which I recognised as being my cue to return to the living space.

Snape had abandoned the floor in favour of the sofa. He had left space for me there, and so I accepted the spot and handed him one of the glasses.

This time, however, the silence felt strained. I didn't know how, but something had changed. And in a single word, Snape shattered the invisible wall between us.

"Relax."

"Oh, please," I spat before I could think about what I was saying. My rudeness startled me.

Snape eyed me over his glass, unsurprised. "That's the first step."

"What's the first step?"

"Relax."

"Oh." I frowned. "The first step to what?"

"Think, Evans," Snape snapped. "Think about the situation you're in. You're in serious danger."

"I know, but-"

"You're about to begin a whole new life, one that will ask far more of you than you think you can give. You have to be ready."

"Ready, sir?" I asked.

Snape glanced away. "It's hardly appropriate for you to call me 'sir' under these circumstances."

"Er, right. Sorry, s-"

"Severus." His tone was soft. Reluctant, but not unkind.

"Right."

The lecture voice returned: "As you know, the Dark Lord has taken a special interest in you. You are the descendent of a long line of Dark wizards on your mother's side, and you also happen to be a friend of Potter's." He glanced at me, noting my wide-eyed gaze. "Do you follow?"

I shook my head free of the cobwebs it contained and cleared my throat. "Yes. So because of this, Voldemort wants-"

"Don't speak his name," Snape hissed.

I wanted to object, but something in Snape's gaze told me not to. "Sorry. Because the Dark Lord wants Harry, he wants to use me to get to him."

"Correct," Snape said with a nod. "And with your parents gone, it is easier than ever for him to reach you."

I nodded, biting my lip to keep it from trembling. I had been orphaned by my parents, each of them murdered by Dark wizards. I thought back to my stay at Malfoy Manor last Christmas, how well I had been treated by Draco and his parents. But now, I wanted nothing more than to punch Lucius Malfoy in the face for killing my mother. I wondered what it would be like the next time I saw Draco...

I knew Snape was looking at me, so I pulled myself back together and lifted my head. "Thus the marriage."

"Thus the marriage," he repeated, glancing away again. A brief silence fell between us.

"Thanks for that, by the way. You didn't have to...you know. Um." I took in a deep, shaky breath, striving to stay calm. But it shattered. "Great Merlin, I'm married!" I nearly yelled.

The next few moments were filled with me muttering sorries under my breath after downing the last of my butterbeer.

"Relax," Snape repeated himself, waiting for me to recenter myself. He waved his wand, refilling my glass.

"Right," I breathed, collecting myself. "I-I don't usually panic like this. It's just...what the hell just happened to my life?"

"If this upsets you, you're not going to like what comes next."

I stared up at Snape. His expression was determined, like he was about to begin a class filled with the dumbest possible students.

"Oh, crap," I whispered.

"The only thing standing between you and the Dark Lord is me," Snape continued as though the conversation hadn't been interrupted. "As you are aware, I am both a member of the Order of the Phoenix, as well as one of the Dark Lord's Death Eaters. Or rather, a spy among their ranks. Of course, the Dark Lord doesn't know this. He thinks I am a loyal follower stationed at Hogwarts to keep tabs on Potter. Which, to a certain degree, I am."

I frowned at this, wondering why Snape would have to watch out for Harry if it weren't for Voldemort's orders. But he did not stop to explain.

"Because of this, if you are to remain safe from the Dark Lord, you can by no means express any behaviour that conflicts with this facade."

"What does that mean?" I asked, suddenly worried. This marriage thing was rapidly seeming much more intense than just wedding vows.

"If you don't want the Dark Lord to go after Potter, you must ensure that the Dark Lord does not go after you."

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

Snape gave me a significant look. "You cannot allow him to think that Potter is in any way close to you."

"But...but he's my friend!" I countered.

"It doesn't matter. The only way to keep Potter safe is to disassociate yourself from him."

"But-"

"It doesn't matter!" Snape snapped. "This isn't your life anymore, Evans!"

"Then whose is it?" I shot back.

"It's the Dark Lord's."

I fell back into the cushions, reeling from the blow of Snape's words. Suddenly, as bleak as a married life had seemed, it couldn't even remotely compare to this.

"You cannot openly support Potter in this war, and you cannot allow the Dark Lord to think you are any sort of threat to his plans. You are under my protection, you are my responsibility, but should you reveal your true loyalties, there is nothing in this world that can stop him from destroying you."

My breathing was shallow and quick as I watched the remnants of my life crumble into dust around me.

"And how am I supposed to do all that?" I asked in a small voice.

Snape's expression became even more intense than before. "You do everything I tell you to."

I gulped. "Sounds like a party."

"Are you taking this seriously, Evans?" he barked.

"It's Sam!" I said, voice strained. "My name is Sam! Or Samantha, at the very least. And yes, I'm taking this seriously, considering it's my life I'm watching you crush into dust!"

Another moment of silence passed. I concentrated on evening my breathing. Snape finished off his glass of butterbeer and set it down.

"So what do I have to do?"

This was by far and away the strangest summer I'd ever had. That first night, Snape had outlined everything we would be working on to prepare me for this new role. Everything from wordless spellcasting to occlumency, each step of the way bringing new information to light.

"Relax," Snape would say. "Concentrate."

"I thought this was the summer holidays," I groaned once as I struggled to cast spells without speaking.

"Not anymore," Snape said in his signature professor's voice.

I kept notes on what I was learning, thankful to have the leather bound journal Draco had gotten me for Christmas. It was charmed to prevent anyone but the author from reading its words, something I had made sure of before I wrote anything inside.

The day Snape began teaching me occlumency rivalled that first night in the most-awkward-encounter-of-my-life competition. I knew absolutely nothing about this sort of magic, and so when Snape broke through my mind's defences like a hot knife slices through butter, I was a little more than taken aback.

"What the hell was that?" I yelped, staggering backward, clutching my head. "You-you were in my head!"

"Excellent observation," the man said with a sneer.

I struggled to regain my composure, my mind filled with the images Snape had just seen inside my head: memories of Dad, people we had met, and Mother yelling at me during one of our potions sessions. I flushed at the thought. "Oh, Merlin."

"Again," Snape said, raising his wand.

"No!" But too late. Homeschooling. Seeing Hogwarts for the first time. Being Sorted. "Slytherin, Slytherin, Slytherin."

"So you were almost sorted into Slytherin," Snape said as he withdrew from my memories.

"Yes," I said, gasping and blinking repeatedly as the room came back into view. "I told you that years ago."

"Yes, I know," he said lightly, looking lost in thought. "Again."

"No, please!"

Christmas at the Malfoy's. Singing with Terrence. Seeing Snape at that first potions class. Then, kissing Snape at our wedding.

The room swam back into view. "You're not blocking me," he said. "You have to empty your mind."

"I know, I know," I said, failing to suppress a blush. Then I stopped to think back on the last round of memories. "Why did you look at me like I had two heads when we first met?"

Snape considered the question, staring hard. But instead of answering, he whispered, "Again."

I didn't even protest as I felt him slip easily back into my thoughts. I frowned, trying to figure out how to neutralise my thoughts: Dad's death. Mother's death. Lying to my friends about why I wasn't leaving Hogwarts with them.

"Good," came Snape's voice as the memories faded slightly. "You're learning to lie."

I wanted to say how that wasn't really a good thing, but then the memories returned full blast: Dancing with Harry at the Yule Ball. Being attacked at the Yule Ball. Being raped at the Quidditch World Cup by the masked Death Eater.

"No!" I screamed, tearing through my thoughts and pushing the pieces away. I blinked, seeing the room again.

"Better," said Snape.

I avoided his gaze, knowing what he had just seen. It was something no one else had witnessed until this very moment. He had known about the assault, sure, but seeing it happen? I shuddered.

"That's enough for today. You must work on emptying your mind so that the Dark Lord might have a trickier time breaking into your thoughts than I did."

I nodded, following him into the kitchen where Mimi and Vinny had prepared dinner. Though the house elves had everything under control, I offered to carry the glasses to the table before I sat down.

Meals with Snape were typically taken in silence. In fact, much of our time beyond this training stuff was silent. Snape would disappear now and again, using the Floo network to escape Hogwarts' wards. I never asked why. I just pulled out my guitar and played to hide the silence.

This time, however, there was post sitting on my plate. And with post typically came conversation.

I swore softly under my breath as I realised what this particular piece of mail was: my OWL results.

Snape was watching me, I could tell, as I opened the letter with trembling fingers. I knew I had done well enough, but opening the results in front of a professor made unfolding the parchment infinitely more challenging.

ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS

PASS GRADES: (O) Outstanding | (E) Exceeds Expectations | (A) Acceptable

FAIL GRADES: (P) Poor | (D) Dreadful | (T) Troll

SAMANTHA KAY EVANS HAS ACHIEVED:

Ancient Runes - O

Astronomy - O

Charms - E

Defence Against the Dark Arts - E

Divination - E

Herbology - O

History of Magic - A

Potions - O

Transfiguration - A

I breathed in a sigh of relief: I had achieved Outstandings in all the areas I was required to accomplish for a career in potioneering. Even Ancient Runes! As for the wandwork, it wasn't bad, and I was especially delighted to see I had passed transfiguration.

"Would you prefer to show me now, or let me find out later when I read your mind?" asked Snape.

I gave a humourless chuckle before handing over the parchment. His eyes whizzed down the list, spending an extra split second on the second-to-last class. I gave a small smirk.

"Satisfactory?" I queried.

Snape handed back the parchment with a wordless nod before returning his attention to his food. We ate our meal in silence.