This is a one-shot fic that I've written for the Amortentia FanFiction Challenge no. 2. Prompt phrases are emboldened, and it is 2681 words without my A/Ns. It's supposed ot be angst/horror genre, but there's some angst and not really any horror. I hope it's OK anyway. It's a bit random; there's a lot of backstory that simply wouldn't fit.
St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries was unusually quiet. The pristine, sparkling white corridors were all but empty, save for the muted swish of lime-green robes as Healers made their way, silent and efficient, from ward to ward.
Ginny Weasley sat nervously in the waiting area, her face pale and wan, clenching her fists in her lap. Her eyes were red-rimmed and all but obscured by dark circles, and the Welcome Witch glanced worriedly over at her from time to time. She had burst into the hospital at an ungodly hour of the morning with blood-stained robes and tear-streaked cheeks, and the Welcome Witch had assumed she had come to check in.
But Ginny had swiftly disabused her of that notion. Head held high, she had demanded to see one of their most critical patients with all the assurance of an empress. When the Welcome Witch had politely asked her to return during visiting hours, she had looked shocked, as though unused to being refused.
"I will see him," Ginny stated, her voice cold and flat. "With your consent or without it, it is all the same to me."
The Healer on duty at that time was a young man, newly-qualified. He had taken one look at the expression on Ginny's face and hastened off to prepare the patient for her visit.
The Healer returned; he hesitated, then tapped the red-head tentatively on the shoulder.
Ginny leapt out of her seat, wand in hand, a curse half-formed at her lips. She recognised the young healer and relaxed, stowing her wand away. "You will take me to him now?" She squinted to read his name tag. "Healer Martin?"
Martin swallowed and nodded, heart pounding in his chest. Ginny followed him wordlessly to a small ward on the fourth floor. It was full; extra beds had obviously been crammed in and every one of them was occupied.
The curtains had the bed at the farthest end of the room; Martin pointed to this and hurried away to tend a witch who was muttering restlessly in her sleep.
Ginny stood transfixed, watching the curtains flutter restlessly, breath caught in her throat. Steeling herself, she walked forwards with a determined step and slipped behind the curtain to sit on the edge of the bed.
She looked at the man lying inert beneath the crisp hospital sheets. His face was composed, and his breathing even, but Ginny winced at his thin frame, the shoulder blades sticking out with painful clarity. Long, black lashes swept down onto gaunt, white cheeks.
Ginny took a swift, sharp breath and looked away, her eyes filling with tears that she angrily blinked back. Trembling, she looked down at her hands; unconsciously she had clenched them into tight fists once again. She forced herself to relax, and uncurled them. Her nails had bitten cruel half-moons into the flesh of her palm; absently she rubbed them, then reached up to softly stroke the man's cheek.
"Harry," she whispered softly. Her tapered finger caressed the scar that ran from temple to chin; a brutal dark orange mark that seemed to pulsate in the dim half-light.
She slid limply to the floor beside him, her hand searching for his. Unable to hold back the tears any longer, they spilled out, fat and shining, dropping down onto Harry's skeletal arm.
"I'm so sorry," she choked through her tears. "So sorry, my love."
Harry stirred; his eyes flickered open, vibrantly, shockingly green. "Ginny." It was a travesty of a voice, hoarse and rasping.
Ginny gasped at the sound of his voice. "Harry!"
He squeezed her hand reassuringly, his eyes closing again even as his mouth curved in a tiny smile.
As Ginny began to weep in earnest, he forced himself to look at her. "Ginny," he croaked.
The word was so soft that she did not hear him.
"Ginny," he repeated insistently.
Chocolate-brown eyes sparkling with tears met his own unwavering green ones. "It wasn't your fault."
"It was, it was," she sobbed, burying her head in the linen. "I should have been there to protect you!"
"Ginny, look at me," his voice was oddly compelling. "There was nothing you could have done."
Pushing herself up on her elbow, Ginny took up his left hand with her own. Two slender bands of gold gleamed on their entwined fingers.
"When I put this on your finger I promised I would never desert you!" she hissed. "But when you needed me most -" she broke off, unable to finish.
Harry shook his head gently. "Don't cry, love," he chided her gently. "I can bear anything, except this."
"I'm sorry," Ginny wiped her eyes. "It's just - to see you like this! I feel so helpless - so - ashamed. Is there anything I can do?"
"There is one thing."
"Anything," she breathed fervently, her eyes alight. "Anything you ask, no matter what!"
Harry's lips twisted in a wry smile.
"I wonder…" he mused weakly. "Is that because you still love me…or because I am the saviour," and his voice cracked bitterly over the word, "or because you want something to assuage your guilt?"
His wife sucked in a sharp breath, drawing back. "Harry!" she whispered reproachfully. "How can you doubt me?"
Yet her stomach writhed with hot, bubbling guilt.
Harry coughed pitifully. "It doesn't matter anymore," he sighed. "It will all be over soon."
As his eyes closed, Ginny pressed his hand urgently. "What was it?" she asked eagerly. "What did you want me to do? I would do anything!"
Harry tried to laugh, but the breaths caught in his chest and he coughed violently. His wife leant over him anxiously, soothing him with her cool fingers at his disfigured temples.
He calmed down gradually, but his chest still rose and fell heavily. "At Hogwarts," he managed breathily. "In the Headmaster's office -" he stopped and winced, touching the scar briefly. "There is a box…a rosewood box, inlaid with a phoenix motif…I need you…" he wheezed waiving aside her murmur of concern. "Bring it - to me," he finished, choking on a cough. "He mustn't have it…bring to me!"
"I will!" vowed Ginny, her brown eyes ablaze with an inner fire. Her voice was tense with zeal. "I swear, I will bring it to you."
Harry forced his eyes open once more to look upon his wife, still lovely despite her careworn face. One hand came up to caress those familiar, burnished red curls. "Still as beautiful as the day we were wed," he murmured.
Ginny said nothing, the tears welling up again until his face disappeared in a blur of sparkling tears.
The only sound now was that of Harry's laboured breathing. "Promise me.." he rasped. "Promise me, Gin…you won't turn to them."
"I am as devoted to the cause as I am to you," she replied quietly.
"I wish that I could believe it."
Ginny's hand trembled in his.
"Gin…promise me. Promise me you won't. I couldn't bear it…for you to be with him..."
"Harry," Ginny said tenderly. "My husband, my love, I promise I will never leave you. I would never turn to Severus Snape."
"You're lying, Ginny," Harry told her sadly, every word as harsh as a curse. "You've never loved me like I love you. Always been…tempted…" his voice trailed off, his breath coming in shallow gasps.
"No…" her voice was so soft the could barely hear it. "It's not true."
"Isn't it?" the matter-of-fact enquiry caused the tears to flow once more. "I wonder…where were you, Gin, that night? The night this-" He raised his hand to touch the throbbing scar.
There was no answer. The thick, silky curtain of Ginny' hair obscured her face from view.
Harry's chest throbbed painfully, and he tried to swallow the lump that was growing in his throat.
"I thought so," he told her brokenly. "But it doesn't matter anymore….none of it matters anymore…I forgive you, Gin."
Suddenly his wife looked up at him, her hand pressing his urgently. "I still love you," she whispered fiercely. "No matter what I may have done, I've never stopped loving you!"
"At least I defeated them. It is all over now, isn't it?" he whispered, his eyelids growing steadily heavier. "I defeated them..."
"Yes," breathed Ginny. "Yes…it's over…all of it."
Her husband nodded his dark head once and sighed, letting himself fall into the blissful oblivion of sleep.
On the banks of the lake of Hogwarts Castle, his black, hunched figure silhouetted against the silvery surface of the moonlit lake, Severus Snape sat, his mouth set in a grim line.
Ginny Weasley quietly sat down beside him. He was intent on watching the water, but she had eyes only for him. His eyes were dark and brooding, and he said nothing when she tapped him gently on the arm, but flinched away from her touch.
"I'm hoping something, Sevevrus," she told him, not taking her gaze from him. "I'm hoping that I didn't do this to you."
"Save your hopes for something important."
Ginny sat back, looking with unseeing eyes over the lake. "That's very good advice." She picked at the grass. "So, are you looking to join the Lonely Blokes' Club, then?" she asked him, her mouth twisting in a sardonic smile.
Severus steadily ignored her.
"There's no joining fee, you know. But I've heard the meetings aren't that much fun."
"You wouldn't know about being lonely, Ginny," he answered finally, his tone as black as the look he sent her from beneath heavy brows.
Ginny shifted uncomfortably on the grassy verge, raising her eyebrows in surprise. "Well, I can't know about yours. But we're all lonely in our own way, aren't we?"
Severus appeared to be absorbed in watching the gentle lapping of the lake on the shore.
Ginny took a deep breath and continued. "You can be surrounded by people, but if you convince yourself that nobody values you…that's a pretty powerful type of loneliness." She smiled a little. "Of course, that wouldn't be yours, would it Severus?"
"Don't pretend to know anything about me!"
"Of course. I've never really known anything about you, Severus," Ginny said, and there was the faintest hint of regret in her voice. She turned to face him. "But let's pretend, just for a moment, that you're like every other man on the face of this planet - afraid to admit anything to anyone. Because that would be weak, wouldn't it?"
She laughed bitterly. "Well, if you don't want to talk to me, Severus, that's fine. You enjoy your trip down into the black pit of loneliness. Send me a postcard, won't you?"
She moved a little closer, eyes intense. "It would be a little like walking on the moon, wouldn't it? You're the first man ever to be there."
"I just don't want to talk," Severus told her, his black eyes glittering in the moonlight.
Ginny laughed softly. "Of course! Because if we talked about it, who knows?" she shrugged. "We might actually get somewhere. You might start to feel better. We might even crack some jokes. We might take it a little less seriously."
Severus pushed his hair out of his face. "It comes on you like a shiver," he said, his voice low and heavy. "Suddenly you realise…that you're going to die alone."
The words hung in the air as though suspended, and Ginny felt their weight above her like a tonne of concrete. She sighed, with a long, quavering exhalation, thinking of Harry, lying in his hospital bed, struggling for breath.
"But that's everyone's fate, Severus." She reached for his hand in the darkness. It was large and cold, and the long fingers curled about her own. "There's nothing that anyone can change about that."
She hesitated, and he tightened his grip. "You wonder if you'll ever find anyone to love - to truly love. We all do. And we never really know. When you find someone...you still wonder. Doubt." She thought of Harry, of the small band of coat in her pocket.
He stirred beside her. "I fear that I will never know."
The wind played about their faces, like the timid caress of a young lover.
"Well, you and I are fellow travellers. It's a big hurt, I know. Gets on top of you. Presses you down." She shuddered. "I'm no fan of pain. And it's the sort of pain you think will never go away, isn't it?"
Severus looked at her for the first time that night, and as she looked at him he saw that her eyes were red, as though she had been crying.
"But there is one good thing about it," she continued resolutely. "It does mean that you're alive, Severus. And sometimes, we all need to know we're alive."
She made to rise, but he held her back.
"Women are curious things," he said, his eyes boring into hers. "They make us vain, and then curse us for our vanity."
"Are you referring to me, Severus?" Ginny asked incredulously.
"Of course I'm referring to you!" he exploded. "I thought you loved me!"
Ginny didn't try to hide her astonishment. "But I do love you!" she cried. "Why else would I have betrayed my husband when he needed me most, to tend to you? I betrayed my family, everything that I believe in, for you!" her voice rose and wavered. "Why else would I do that, if not for love? Why do you think I am even here, beside you?"
Severus touched her face tenderly, his eyes disbelieving. "Then why did you go back to him, Gin?" He kissed her hand, and Ginny felt a familiar shiver of delight, coupled with a hot flush of guilt that made her blush furiously.
"I had to. I owe him a lot, Severus. I may not love him…but I owe him." She leant forward to kiss him once, hard, on the mouth. "That's partly why I'm here tonight."
Severus pulled back, his guts twisting with a sense of betrayal . "And here I was thinking you were here for me! The man you profess to love above all others."
"I do love you! I do!" Ginny felt the sting of tears as she covered his face with hot, feverish kisses. "Just this one favour that he has asked of me…and then I am yours."
She looked at him with eyes burning with passion.
"Mine," he murmured. "Come, then. I will help you, if this is truly the last."
"I need a box, from the Headmaster's Office. Rosewood, inlaid with a phoenix motif."
"I know of it," Severus nodded, frowning. "Come with me."
They found the box nestling in a bed of rose-coloured velvet, in a drawer in the Headmaster's desk. The portraits on the wall muttered angrily as they took it from it's resting place, and Ginny looked around her fearfully.
"Come, they cannot harm you," Severus told her, tucking the box in his robes as he placed a comforting arm around her shoulder.
They left the castle through a side door, but as Ginny made to leave, Severus stopped her, withdrawing the box. It was a beautiful thing; the phoenix was so real that Ginny felt she could almost hear the wings beating.
"You want this box…for Potter," Severus said slowly.
Ginny nodded, anxious for him to understand. "It is all that remains of my allegiance to him."
Her lover nodded curtly, examining it. Suddenly, without warning, he threw it high into the air, muttering a curse.
The box exploded in a shower of wood chips and a strange, silvery dust.
"You are mine, Ginevra Weasley," he asserted, and she shivered to hear her name spoken by that silken voice. "And I will have you beholden to him no more."
As the dust settled around the Hogwarts Castle, Ginny Weasley knew everything would change…
Severus drew her into his arms in a crushing embrace. "I have you now," he murmured against her hair. "And I will not let you go again!"
As Ginny closed her eyes, exulting in the feel of his strong arms around her, she spared a thought for her broken husband in the overcrowded ward in St Mungo's. She thought: never again.
Please R&R!