Title: Beauty in the Breakdown
Author: Riley (Naughtykittekat)
Unnecessary Disclaimer: Just borrowing for a time. I don't own anything except the mistakes and the plot.
It wasn't an ordinary knock. It was haggard, slow like a dying man's last breath. It was the briefest noise at first, as if the hand had struggled to gain purchase on the door, a soft scratch against the wood and then again trying to find the needed strength to knock. Then a hard pound followed by fingernails trembling against the small filthy pane. The house sensed something in its finality and allowed it to echo through the small house alerting those who may be with in.
The man of the house was used to late night visitors, he had his guard up at all times. Stealthily, he manoeuvred from his dimly lit library and down the even darker hall. He stood in front of the door, trying to look through it as if to sense who was on the other side, gauging the safety of opening the door. The intense pain was as palpable as if he was standing on the other side of the door. He placed a pale hand against it, almost in the exact same spot as the trespasser on the other side. His other hand hesitated ever so briefly as his fingers wrapped around the rusty doorknob and twisted gently.
A girl, who couldn't be any more than sixteen or seventeen, fell threw the threshold before the door opened all the way. She collapsed in a tangle of limbs on the rough-hewn stone floor of the hall bringing with her many questions and the frigid January air.
***
Time seemed to tick away as Severus studied the girl. Her face was swollen from multiple beatings; she had slightly healed gashes across her right cheek. Dried blood stained what was once a probably impeccably white t-shirt, which was also shredded and gave hints at what brutality might lay beneath. She was thinner than he had remembered, her denims hung loose about her hips emphasizing her bones as they stuck out at odd angles as she lay upon the floor. If it hadn't been for the girl's matted dirty brown curls he might not have recognized Hermione Granger.
In morbid fascination he watched as a fresh gash across her wrist slowly oozed blood to the straining staccato of her heartbeat. A soft, strained groan escaped dry, bloodstained lips and rocked Severus into action. Swiftly, he bent down and gathered the girl in his arms. It was a strange sight to behold; together they looked much like Michelangelo's Pieta. He cradled her in his arms as the red black blood danced rivulets down her fingers and splashed on to the floor leaving a trail from the front door, down the hall, up the stairs.
Once in the safety of his bedchamber Severus deposited the former student on the bed. It was a neat and tidy thing, hardly luxurious, but it suited him. Severus stared at her for only a moment trying to figure out why she had come to him before starting to cast quick charms to determine how serious her injuries were, rather what had more of a need to be taken care of first.
Gently he grasped the bleeding wrist, murmuring as he traced it with the tip of the wand. Slowly, the gash started to knit itself together before his very eyes. He let out a breath; he hadn't known he was holding. Some of the tension leaving his body, as bent down to open the nightstand drawer that was always stocked with a variety of potions. He dribbled a purplish one against the wound, sighing at the telltale hiss of healing. It stuck out an angry red against her sickly skin but at least it was healing.
On to more pressing issues, he forced a blood replenishing potion to her dry, bluish, bloodstained lips and tilted it coaxing her to swallow with a hand on her throat. He gave her two more in the same manner and a heady dose of something much stronger than Skele-o-Grow. Once the charms assured him that everything else was just bruises he undressed her with a quick vanishing charm. Her whole body seemed to pulse underneath his clinical eyes, as it should. Her face was not the only thing that was black and blue; her body was covered in marks of various sizes, shapes, and age. One was a clear outline of a boot, another ten crescent shaped nail marks, and her nipples seemed to have been bitten repeatedly. Multiple bruises of fingers and hands on her hips said all the things she couldn't right now. Carefully, he rolled her to her side to get a look at her backside. Thighs held more fingerprints and her buttocks was a frightening shade of purple. Her back was covered in older slightly healed flog marks and scratches from uncaring fingernails. In the bend of her neck and shoulder the Dark Mark was burned into her sallow flesh, still blistering from the cattle iron used to make it and turning an ashy shade of grey.
Taking out a large, unmarked jar of a specialized bruise salve he began the daunting task of covering her entire body with it. Slowly, methodically he worked his way up the legs, expert fingers kneading the delicate flesh. At her thighs and hips he spent extra time trying to will the salve to work immediately, even though he knew it would take multiple applications to ever rid her body of such transgressions upon her youth. He worked up her stomach past the swell of her breasts and out into each arm. Gently, he spread the salve against her cheeks and across the Dark Mark on her neck. He could feel like calling to like at the simple touch and drew his fingers away like he touched a hot kettle. He looked at her body one last time before covering her up, she looked like a perverse canvas of decidedly terrifying colours, but at least the swelling had visibly gone down.
***
A couple days later, Severus Snape had another late night visitor. He had removed himself from his vigil for the girl only long enough to see to his desk, check his mail. Whilst reading through a letter from Minerva, his fire grate flared to life.
Lucius walked from the flames and cast cleaning charm on his robes."Would you like a firewhiskey?" Severus asked without looking up from his letter.
Lucius smirked causing the worry lines in his forehead to crease, "Now, that is quite the greeting."
"Well, do you want some firewhiskey?" He asked again stepping to the sideboard and getting two glasses from beneath. "Merlin knows I do," he mumbled under his breath pouring far more than what could be deemed polite.
"Yes," Lucius replied folding himself into the sofa, resting his ankle across his knee and draping his arm upon the back of the sofa.
Handing Lucius the tumbler of amber liquid, Severus glared at the man sitting so lazily on his couch, "Well, what do you want at this hour?" he asked slamming back most of his firewhiskey and walking back to his desk.
"So, no 'how was your day'?" Lucius smirked. "Really, I think maintaining a proper amount of politeness would really make the world a better place, such as common pleasantries. If only—"
"Oh, do shut up." Severus said darkly swirling his glass. "Tell me what you want."
"Fine, fine. There is something to be said for a proper upbringing though. I want you to take Draco," Lucius said completely nonchalantly.
Severus eyes flashed suddenly with fear for a moment. The girl… he thought. "What makes you think I'll take in a grown man?"
"The Dark Lord."
A/N 1: Seeking a beta...
A/N 2: I'm not sure how often I can update, but here's the start anyway.