He hadn't seen him before, Severus thought as he watched the man with dazed, half-lidded eyes. A new recruit, then. It didn't make much of a difference. The new ones were just as cruel, if not more so than the older Death Eaters—so eager to please. He set his gaze on a spot on the floor, waiting. Not looking them in the eyes was the only form of rebellion Severus could allow himself. With his wrists pinned above his head on the brick wall behind him, strained muscles shooting painful arrows down his arms and back, he could hardly defend himself, even if he wanted to. And he didn't. Any attempt at protecting himself, no matter how feeble, inevitably attracted stronger blows and curses.

Severus caught a glimpse of the stranger's boots. The man had stopped. Hesitating? Couldn't be. He bowed his head so low that his chin almost touched his chest. It was about to start, any moment now.

He was right, the man started advancing again. He was eerily quiet—no threats or insults for the prisoner in front of him. It unnerved Severus, who almost looked up. Any moment now, a boot would be sinking into his stomach—or, perhaps, his head would be knocked back. Any moment—

The stranger's hands were on the shackles around his wrist.

"Severus?"

He frowned. They never called him by name. Most times it was 'traitor'. He could feel the stranger lean in closer, examining his binds. The voice sounded familiar, but Severus couldn't place it.

With a click, the shackles came undone and Severus found himself sliding in a sitting position on the floor, arms still raised awkwardly over his head. They were so numb that they no longer felt like parts of his body.

The man took hold of Severus' left arm and Severus closed his eyes, bracing himself.

"Slowly, now…"

A quiet whimper of surprise escaped him when he realised that his arm was being eased down, hand left to rest in his lap. A few seconds later, his right arm followed. They both tingled like they were covered in ants.

The stranger knelt by him and, as Severus saw out of the corner of his eye, produced a small, bluish vial from a pocket of his robes.

"Will you, please…?" the man murmured, bringing the vial to his lips and tipping it slightly. "It'll help you sleep."

Severus chugged it down without hesitation. He didn't know what the stranger's plans were for him, but if could choose to be unconscious, then he didn't really care. Sleeping draught, he realised, as his eyes closed: Flobberworm mucus, Lavender, Valerian Sprigs and—

Severus woke up with a start. A furtive glance around the room confirmed that he was alone. Before sitting up, he took a minute to turn his ragged gasps into somewhat even breaths, fists curling and uncurling into the sheets.

While he slept, he had been moved into… a bedroom? It was small, but promised to be bright during daytime, going by the tall double windows that occupied the east wall almost entirely. The bed, a nightstand, a wardrobe and an armchair were the only pieces of furniture in the room.

With the bitter aftertaste of sleeping draught still lingering on his tongue, Severus stood up. Then, bracing himself against the wallpapered wall, he edged towards the door.

Surprisingly, it was unlocked. He wasn't considered a threat, Severus could only conclude as he surveyed the darkened hallway: two other doors, both closed, and a staircase. A soft snoring sound could be heard from one of the rooms, so he moved towards the stairs instead.

Huffing by the time he reached the last step, he found himself in the entry hall. Deciding against trying the front door—protective charms would surely be in place (probably even an intruder one, which would wake the owner quicker than Severus could say Flobberworm)—he headed for what seemed to be the living-room.

The house looked deceptively like a Muggle one, Severus noted, at least until one took a closer look at the book case: A History of Modern Magic, Evolution of Unspoken Spells during the 20th Century, 1000 Most Common Herbs and their Magical Properties and—

Without thinking, Severus reached for the brand-new copy of Advanced Potion-Making and, clutching it to his chest, limped to the sofa. A fluffy calico raised its head as he approached, its bright green eyes following him idly as he took a seat with the book in his lap.

The clock on the opposite wall read 6:45 am as Severus started reading. Two minutes in, he reached towards the coffee table for a pencil (he had found the first mistake). Five minutes in, the cat stood with a chirruping sound, only to press itself against his bony thigh, then curl up again. As soon as Severus' hand lowered to scratch it behind its ears, it started purring.

An hour and a half later, Severus was too engrossed in correcting the book to hear the shuffling noises on the first floor. His attention was finally diverted when he felt the cat, which he had been petting absent-mindedly, raise its head. He looked up, following its gaze, to find the stranger from the previous night standing by the sofa and peering down at him. The little colour that was left drained from his face as he slowly closed Advanced Potion-Making and deposited it, along with the pencil, on the coffee table.

The cat sprang up, rushing to the man to rub against his bare feet and ankles, meowing.

"Morning, Severus."

The man, who was at least 10 years Severus' junior, was looking at him with sleep clouded brown eyes. His dark red hair, which passed his shoulders by a few inches, was tousled and he was wearing a faded t-shirt and a pair of checkered pajama bottoms. Clearly, he had been the one sleeping upstairs.

"Pardon the stupid question, but are you feeling, uh, alright?" he murmured, picking up the meowing cat and cradling it somewhat awkwardly to his chest. "Food's coming in a second… Be quiet, Claw."

He looked as if he was expecting to be reprimanded for asking. Severus didn't understand why that was.

"Yes," came the cautious answer.

"Your shoulder must be a little stiff still, but it'll be back to normal in a day or two—I think," he stranger continued, stifling a yawn with his free hand. The cat was pushing its head under his chin. It had resumed purring. "Would you, uh, like some breakfast?"

Severus' hands were shaking slightly as he stood up and he threw a furtive glance at the book. Its owner didn't seem to have noticed what he had been doing. Sensing that it was expected of him to do so, he followed the man into the kitchen.

Humming, the stranger filled a bowl with cat food and put the kettle on, before noticing that Severus was standing motionless in the doorway.

"Won't you take a seat?"

He stepped towards the table and lowered himself into a chair, eyes on the stranger's hands. He didn't seem to be carrying a wand. Severus could already feel his heart pounding in his chest. Was this a game? A trick? Lull him into a false sense of security and then…? The short sleeves of the t-shirt didn't reveal a Dark Mark either. But if he was a new recruit or, indeed, a Snatcher…

"Black, two sugars," the stranger announced, placing a mug of coffee on the table in front of Severus, before walking off to retrieve a carton of milk from the refrigerator. He was soon facing Severus again, leaning against the kitchen counter and cradling his own, milky cup of coffee. "Problem?"

The coffee was exactly how he had been taking it for the past fifteen years (or longer), but Severus made no move towards the cup. Instead, he kept his eyes fixed on the man before him. He was aware that wandless and weakened as he was, he had little chance of dodging an attack even if he could see it coming, but he simply didn't know what else to do. His throat felt as dry as sandpaper when he spoke next.

"Who are you?"

It came out as a hoarse whisper, but the young man had definitely heard it judging by the way his jaw dropped. The question seemed to jolt him awake from the morning haze much more efficiently that coffee would and he set the untouched cup next to him on the counter.

"Oh. That's… unexpected."

Severus looked down, shaking hands grabbing his knees in a feeble attempt to still themselves.

"You don't remember me?"

Severus shook his head, not daring to look up again. His mind was racing trying to place him, but to no avail. The stranger had fallen silent, as well. Any second now, he would be punished for his answer. Severus found it unbelievable that he had lasted so many hours without the slightest correction. After what seemed to be ages, the stranger spoke again. He was straining to keep his voice even, Severus could tell.

"I'm—I mean, I was a friend of Dumbledore's. Do you remember him?"

Severus' shoulders twitched at the mention of Dumbledore, but he forced himself to nod. He could recall everything, including the wizard's death. Lie, this could be a lie. But why go through all the trouble? Severus finally glanced up, just to see the stranger extend an arm in his direction. He observed it warily as it hovered over the table and, finally, he tentatively reciprocated the gesture, all the while expecting the worst.

"David. That's, uh, my name," the man said, giving Severus' hand a gentle squeeze. The way he smiled was somewhat forced, but didn't seem entirely insincere. "I'm, uh, happy to see you again."

David took a sip of coffee, but before he could add anything else, a soft flapping noise caught his attention. He opened the window to allow a barn owl perch itself on the still and, after locating a coin on the kitchen counter (which was rather untidy, one could notice), retrieved his copy of the Daily Prophet. Claw eyed the transaction mistrustfully, giving a hiss as the owl soared into the morning sky.

"Now, now," David mumbled, picking the cat up with one hand and unfolding the newspaper on the table with the other. He took the seat next to Severus, shoulders hunched forwards as he began to read.

Severus, who had dared to wrap his hands around the mug, glanced at it only long enough to catch the headline: LAST DEATH EATHERS CAPTURED. Was that right? He was about to steal another look, when David spoke.

"Oh, last ones? That's good…" He looked up, meeting Severus' eyes, and smiled. "Look, the Ministry of Magic raided that place they kept you in. They say it was run by the last group of Voldemort's supporters—I'd really like to believe that, but… I mean, he's gone and everything, but fanatics may still appear. Not too difficult to deal with them, though, I don't think. Uh, would you like to…?"

David slid the newspaper towards Severus, but the latter made no move to pick it up. He was staring wide-eyed at the man.

"Gone?"

David nodded heartily.

"Yes, defeated for a second time by Harry Potter. You won. Your side won, Severus."

Severus, whose hands were shaking even worse than before, searched David's eyes for any trace of deception. When he couldn't find anything of the sorts, he focused on the article instead. It all seemed… genuine. He had spent the last three months (judging by the newspaper date) thinking they'd lost, convinced that Potter was dead and their efforts had been in vain. They were keeping him alive for the Dark Lord, they said. He would be the one deciding Severus' fate.

"I, uh, probably should have started with that, but… uh, I didn't realise… I thought you knew. I'm sorry."

Severus opened his mouth to say something, but found that the words had left him entirely. Shaking, he leaned forward, as if straining to read the article. The curtains of lank hair on each side of his face did a fairly good job concealing the tears that had soundlessly started running down his hooked nose and spilling onto the newspaper page.

Severus gave a start when he felt a hand rest on his back, but didn't pull away.

Severus had somehow been coaxed into eating two sandwiches and was back on the sofa with the copy of Advanced Potion-Making in his lap. At the opposite end sat David, his face hidden into the Daily Prophet. The cat had been let out to wander through the yard. He had almost drifted back into reading the book (an overstatement, as he knew the instructions by heart), when the man's voice brought him back to the present.

"Would you mind if I looked at your back for a bit?"

And before Severus could agree (he didn't dare decline), David was heading upstairs. Severus' eyes followed him as he left the room, but he remained seated, waiting. A sense of dread at what the stranger had in mind was slowly seeping in.

"Ah, there we go…"

Severus' heart skipped a beat when he saw David returning with his wand and a jar of what looked like purple jelly. He stood up on legs that felt as if they were stuffed with cotton.

"Can you please, uh, take of your shirt and turn around? Or turn around and then take off your shirt? Whichever order you prefer," he mumbled, placing the jar on the coffee table. "Thank you."

Severus stood with his bare back at the man, head hanging low and eyes squeezed shut. He gave a start when he felt hands on his back, but they were just brushing his hair out of the way.

"Nothing's reopened during the night; that's good."

It didn't sound as if an answer was expected from him, so he kept quiet and as still as possible. Goosebumps ran down his arms when he felt something cold and oily being spread on his back, covering new and old wounds alike. It smelled faintly of lavender.

"You were right, you know. Well, you probably don't remember this either, seeing as you don't remember me at all, but it was your idea to add Calendula and Lavender extract to the—what was its proper name? Anyway, to this healing goo, let's call it. Got rid of that foul smell, alright. I mean, it was working well enough before…" he trailed off, pushing the jar in Severus' hand.

He cracked open an eye to examine the recipient. It looked like generic healing ointment that one could procure from any Apothecary, but instead of being white and smelling strongly of petrol, it was a faint purple colour and the odour had been replaced by lavender. David was murmuring something under his breath and Severus felt the tip of the wand tap his back from place to place. Pleasant warmth was slowly spreading across his marred skin.

"Well, good news is," the young wizard began, taking hold of Severus' elbow and guiding him to turn around (sign that he had finished for the time being), "it should be fully healed in a day or two. Bad news is that it'll most likely scar. There are ways to get rid of it, though, should you ever feel inclined to do so."

Severus watched him guardedly as David cleaned the tip of his wand with the hem of his t-shirt. The man looked nowhere near as pale as himself, but the dark circles under his eyes were so obvious that Severus wondered how he had missed them the first time round. He looked as if he hadn't had a good night's sleep in months. The yawn that followed strengthened Severus' supposition and, half an hour later, when David had fallen asleep on the sofa with the Daily Prophet spread in his lap, he considered it confirmed. The wand was laying beside him, forgotten.

With his eyes glued on the sleeping form, Severus reached for it and grabbed it in one swift move. He stood by the sofa for a few seconds, twirling it in his hands and marveling at how easy it had been to just take it. It had started raining and the room had grown significantly darker.

He would normally have headed for the entrance, but scratching accompanied by pleading meowing could be faintly heard from the direction of the kitchen. Fearing it might wake David, Severus hurried towards the source of the sound—the back door.

His hand hovered over the knob for a moment, hesitating. What about the intruder charms?

A moment later, he had made up his mind and pulled the door open. Frightened by the storm, the cat scurried between his ankles and made a beeline towards the table, hiding under it. Severus stepped onto the porch and then stopped, listening. Nobody was coming.

The backyard was wider than he had expected, lined by thick forest on one side and extending into a hill. He could see nothing but greenery wherever he looked. Hesitantly, he took the few steps separating him from the railing and leaned forward to rest against it, still twirling the wand in his hands as he watched the rain pour.

"There you were."

Severus turned at the sound of the voice, the wand aimed at its source. Incidentally, it was David's throat.

"Are you going to curse me?"

He was sipping from a can of energy drink, not looking bothered (or, indeed, frightened) in the least.

"Well?"

Severus seemed to consider it for a long minute, before finally lowering the wand and turning around to lean back on the railing.

"You don't keep the doors locked."

"Should I?"

David closed the distance between them, mirroring Severus' pose as he took his place next to the man. Their elbows were less than an inch apart.

"There are protective charms around the house, of course, but their main purpose is keeping dangerous things out—rather than people in."

"Can I leave?"

It sounded like an absolutely idiotic question to Severus, but it didn't seem to bother his host; nor, for that matter, did taking his wand. David seemed in no hurry to claim it back.

"Yes, but I hoped you'd stay a while longer. At least until you're all healed. Then I could say I've done my job properly." David smiled up at him and took another sip of the energy drink.

"You're sleep deprived."

"Well spotted."

"But you have access to sleeping draught?"

"I'm not an insomniac, just… been busy." David raised the can and gave it a little shake, as if it represented the concluding argument for his point.

"It's revolting."

"True, but it works. For the moment, anyway."

The rain showed no signs of letting up. David kept his eyes closed for a few seconds and then, with a shake of his head, opened them again.

"You really don't remember me at all?"

"No."

"They used the Cruciatus curse on you."

It didn't sound like a question, but Severus gave a faint nod nevertheless.

"It can cause memory loss, but… this is a bit too specific, isn't it? You do remember the past three years, don't you?"

Another nod followed. Severus was looking down at the wand. The only thing that was vaguely familiar about the young man beside him was his voice—and that didn't help him much. The mere fact that David knew more about him than the other way around made Severus uncomfortable. Still, if he had been one of the Death Eaters, as he initially thought, he would have been punished by now for theft and general disobedience. After three months in their company, Severus was certain of that.

"Come," David concluded, patting him on the back, as he turned towards the door. "I'm sure you can reschedule your escape attempt for better weather."

Severus was surprised to find his upper lip curl into a tiny smirk as he followed the young man inside.