Sanctuary

The mist was pooling and the cottage was moving. Brynna could feel the movement that had become second nature to her in these dangerous times. Sanctuary had been busy every night since He-who-must-not-be-named had resurfaced. Her thoughts no longer drifted toward imaginings of who she would shelter that night. There had been so many these past months she couldn't even remember all of their names. All those dear people she had been able to give sanctuary to; she wondered briefly how they were faring. There was not time to dwell on it now though; she had to prepare.

Mists swirled around him; it was impossible to tell his location. Trying to keep Potter safe while leaving Voldemort in the dark was an all-consuming task; he did not have time for interruptions. He tried to apparate out of the mist. He tried again. Trapped. Bloody brilliant. This was just what he needed after the night's chase to try and keep Potter and the Order safe. His temper flared. Just as he withdrew his wand to try and clear the mist, it parted.

A deluge broke over his head as the vapors passed. He was soaked in less than a second. Then there was a voice calling to him through the tempest. He saw a light ahead and moved towards it. There, closer than he could have imagined, was a small, stone cottage. He was at the eave in an instant and the woman was beckoning him inside.

"Ooch. You're soaked. I'm sorry about that. I have some dry clothes for you in your room that you can put on. I'm afraid they're muggle clothing but I'll have your robes dry in no time."

Severus Snape was a man who was not often surprised; this was one of the few occasions. The woman spoke with a slight Scottish brogue that softened her speech like a warm blanket. She was a petite little creature with wide gray eyes and midnight hair that fell down her back. She was lovely and would therefore be categorically uninterested in him. He began to dislike her intensely. She just stood smiling at him as he dripped on her floor.

"You're probably wondering where you are – eh? You're at Sanctuary and my name is Brynna. I'm the Sanctuary keeper. You'll be stayin' here tonight but go on now and put on those dry clothes and I'll explain everythin' to you when you're dry."

She was pushing him past the small lounge area that had a large hearth fire and into a tiny hall that was covered in photographs. Thousands of faces winked and smiled and waved to him from the wall. She was shoving him into a room before he had time to linger; Brynna was deceptively strong.

"You can look at those later; many of the people that stay with me send 'em to me later on with a little note of thanks. This is your room. You'll find trousers there on the bed and the black socks and sweater there I knitted myself. They're made out of the softest fleece you'll ever feel. Now go on and change; I'll have some hot soup ready for you when you come out."

Brynna pushed him one final time toward the clothes and then whisked out the door, shutting it firmly behind her. The absurdity of the situation made him pause for a moment. He had to get out of here; he certainly didn't have time to waste with a woman who was determined to...determined to what exactly? Irregardless, he didn't have time. He tried to apparate again. He failed. Again.

"What the bloody ---"

Her voice was just outside the door. "You can't apparate in or out of this place. You're stuck here for the next twenty-four hours so quit tryin'. Now get dressed like I told you to."

He almost opened the door to give her a piece of his mind but then thought the better of it; she had promised to explain everything once he changed clothes. He might get answers faster if he simply complied.

He hastily changed out of his robes into the muggle jeans; damned if she wasn't right about the sweater and socks being the softest he had ever worn. For some odd reason, this made his temper worse. He stormed out of the room ready to confront his hostess. As he turned the corner into the cozy lounge she was waiting for him by the fire. She was holding a bowl full of something that smelled wonderful and a flaggon of mead.

"Sit down and eat. –Ah no arguin' now. I'll explain while you eat."

"Very well."

He complied with her request, taking the food from her hands and seating himself on the large couch. The furniture was all plump and soft, the kind you could sink into and stay in for days. The colors were dark and warm, muted and soothing. The walls were of stone, where they could be seen. Mostly the walls were lined with books upon books upon books. It was almost difficult to imagine how she managed so many books in a space so small; Severus then decided that she must have some sort of enchantment upon them to contain so many. Another small passageway, apart from the one that led to his room, led off to what he assumed was the kitchen.

He shifted his focus back to Brynna and her large gray eyes were staring at him with a keen interest. It was a bit unnerving.

She sat down across from him in an armchair. The heat from the fire, the warm soup, and the mead were all making him pleasantly relaxed, in spite of his earlier irritation.

"There you are now. I always say that a man without food in his stomach is crankier than an angry hippogrif and twice as mean. Now then, my name again is Brynna. I'm also known as Brynna the Secretus."

Severus spluttered the mead he had been drinking.

"You mean to tell me that you are the Secret Keeper?"

"Aye, that's what I'm tellin' you. No need to sound so incredulous. I might get offended."

She smiled broadly at him. He couldn't help but answer it with a smirk of his own.

"I run Sanctuary and I am the Secret Keeper as my mother was before me and her mother before her and so on."

"I can't believe it. I thought the stories of Sanctuary were just a myth."

Brynna laughed and the sound was full and throaty. It seemed to fill the house and imbibe it with even more warmth.

"I'm no more of a myth than you are...You know you still haven't told me your name."

Severus hesitated here and Brynna could see the doubt creep into his eyes.

"Look, Sanctuary is no myth. This is a real place and I am a true Secretus. You are safe here for the twenty-four hours that fate decided you needed when it dropped you on my doorstep. This is a place for you to let go of whatever burden it is that you might be carrying. You can tell me anything that you'd like and that secret must die with me; I can never tell another living soul anything that you might tell me. The magic that protects Sanctuary and binds me is the most powerful I have ever encountered."

"More powerful than the Dark Lord?"

Brynna raised her eyebrows at that. Severus rather liked that reaction and decided perversely to provoke her. He raised the sweater sleeve on his arm to reveal the dark mark.

Brynna gasped; her large gray eyes widened like two pale moons in a cloudless night. Yes, this was the typical reaction to him; the one he was used to. Everyone ran from him, feared him or derided him; it was the same his entire life.

But then her eyes changed; they softened and grew tender. She wasn't running away from him or castigating him. She moved to him, vanishing the remains of his finished meal with her wand, as she seated herself next to him on the sofa.

"How long?" she asked.

"How long what?" he tried desperately for a sneer.

"How long have you been working against him?"

He smiled then, full and slow and lazy, "How do you know I'm working against him?"

Brynna returned his smile, staring directly into his dark eyes, "You wouldn't be at Sanctuary if you were still working for him. This place senses your intentions; it only seeks out those who are working for good purposes. You couldn't be here if you were still loyal to him; it's simply impossible."

He sighed then, all the bluff taken out of him. He averted his eyes, his head drooping from the weight of it all.

"My name is Severus Snape. I've been working against He-who-must-not-be-named for seventeen years after he murdered the only woman I've ever loved."

Severus looked back up to find Brynna watching him intently, her eyes still tender.

"I'm so sorry Severus." She took one of his hands in her own. Her hands were soft and warm and reassuring. "Would you like to tell me your story?"

And so he told Brynna, with her soft eyes and warm hands, the same story he had shared with Dumbledore. He told a story of an unhappy boy and an unhappy childhood, the story of a childhood love that had grown and was taken from him by another man, the story of a man who had vowed to protect the child of the man who had taken that love from him, the story of a man who had killed a mentor to protect the child of the woman he still loved, the story of a man who lived a lie every day to still protect that child.

And she listened. She listened as the lamp-lights dimmed and as the fire dwindled inside the stone cottage. She listened as her large gray eyes spilled tears that reminded him of the rain outside. She listened to him.

When his tale was finished Brynna sat for a moment in silence and then she did the most unexpected thing --- she reached for him. She reached for him and held him. Severus was stiff in her arms and still she held onto him, the warmth of her embrace leaching into him, until he returned her hold, his arms tightening reflexively around her.

She pulled back slightly to meet his gaze.

"Thank you for telling me your story Severus." Her eyes were still glistening with tears.

He nodded unable to form any more words.

"Would you like me to tell you a story now?"

"I...that is to say...yes, I would." He wished for anything to take his mind from the memories of Lily that were crowding his thoughts.

She nodded and whisked out her wand. Instantly an enormous soft blanket enveloped them, warding off the chill that had crept into the room. And then she was pushing at him again, poking and prodding until she had him comfortably lying on the couch. She nested into the crook of his arm, her head pillowed on his chest and she began her story.

She told a familiar one, which pleased him for some reason. It was a story about a man returning home from war to his family, to a beloved wife and son. The man encountered many obstacles on his journey home. He met with one-eyed monsters and sea serpents and witches. He lost men on the journey. When he arrived home, he found suitors fighting to take his place...In the midst of the tale, Severus went to sleep.

She could sense the moment he drifted off. His breathing became steadier and deeper. His chest moved up and down reflexively. She could hear the slow intake of breath and the soft exhale out. Brynna raised up on her elbow to gaze at the sleeping face. He looked peaceful and that pleased her. His dark hair waved across his forehead and she couldn't resist gently fingering a strand. It was soft and silky to the touch. His face was lined with the strain of the burden he carried but Brynna could not help but think that he was beautiful. Again, her hand couldn't resist slightly touching that face. He leaned into her touch and whispered,

"Lily."

Brynna's heart broke for him again as she thought about the mistakes he made that sent He-who-must-not-be-named after the woman he loved and her young family. This was by no means a perfect man but he was a strong man; he was a brave man.

Her hand continued to trace his face as she thought about his tale. There was so much unhappiness, so much despair and so little love in his life. She wanted to give to him. She wanted to show him. She wanted to love him.

She stopped herself at that...love...love him. She had only known him a few hours and he was in love with a woman dead seventeen years. How could she possibly be in love with him?

And yet she knew. Her mother had once told her that "if it hits ya' you'll know it and that'll be it." Somehow she did. She just knew. She loved him and that was it. Maybe, just maybe she could give him enough love for the both of them. And if this war ever ended and He-who-must-not-be-named defeated, he might be ready to move on. Once Harry Potter was finally safe, Severus might be able to let Lily go. Brynna knew one thing for sure, she would be there with open arms if he decided he wanted to try.

She traced her hand over his lips; they were remarkably full and they looked incredibly soft. She wondered what it would be like to...She brushed a soft kiss over his lips. She was right; they were soft. She would have to wait for more; she could wait; she was a patient woman. She gently rose from the couch, tucking the blanket around him as she did. She left a brief kiss on his forehead as she went to find her rest. She knew he needed his.