Severus Gazed Up At The Low Ceiling
AN: This is just one chapter for now, but I will write more if I hear from those who enjoy it *hint hint*
Please tell me if you see any errors, as I don't have a beta, and am something of a perfectionist.
Severus gazed up at the low ceiling, admiring the heavy spread of damp that adorned it. His tired eyes were heavy with tears, though he didn't seem to notice. He blinked, slowly, and sighed. Floating in his mind, the heavy numbness that surrounded him tightened its grip, and head rolling to one side, he sank back into unconsciousness.
When he next awoke, it was to hard wood pressing into the back of his head, and the threads of a thin carpet scratching his cheek. Prising open one of his heavy lids, he was met with blurs of green and white, distorted across his weak vision. He breathed in, trying to speak, but finding his throat swollen and dry, and his mouth unable to move. The sound that emerged was a whisper, thin and cracked, barely making it past his lips. Waiting until he could begin to see clearly, he saw that he was lying with his face to a door. The door to his rooms.
Concentrating, he twisted his head up, drawing a quick breath as pain stabbed behind his eyes, shooting down through his neck and igniting a steady ache in his shoulders. Suddenly, as though ice water had been dumped over his head, full awareness slammed into him. His eyes widened in shock and a sharp gasp filled his lungs. He felt darkness rising up to enfold him and struggled against it, but as his vision was swamped he could only close his eyes again, and try to deepen his breathing. Drifting away helplessly as tears spilled slowly down his face.
When once again he found the strength to open his eyes he saw it was early morning. Blinding streaks of light splashed from the window and criss-crossed his prone body, as the first sounds of a Hogwarts morning filtered though the door. Desperately trying to ignore the cramps that had invaded his body as he slept , Severus slowly rolled onto his knees and knelt, breathing deeply as he rested his damp forehead on the cold floor. Gradually the heavy ice in his limbs began to melt, and he managed to drag himself into a standing position, clinging pathetically to the door as his legs trembled. Knowing he had to move while he could still stand, he focused, steadied himself, and threw his body away from the support of the wall.
He lurched a few steps, just making it to the cupboard before his legs gave way and he narrowly avoided crashing to the floor by grasping the edge of the wooden furniture, and holding on with all his rapidly diminishing strength. Sweat sheeted his face and his vision blurred. Blood was pounding through his head. The Professor desperately fumbled through the clustered vials on the shelf, scattering them over the edge, until at last he grabbed one with shaking hands and threw it down his throat. Finally allowing himself to slide off his new favourite piece of furniture and slump to the floor, as the potion began to take effect. His eyesight cleared, his heart calmed, and the pain relaxed its hold on him.
Allowing himself a small smile of victory, he pushed himself to his feet and stumbled into his bedroom, closing the door. Monday morning. Shit. He tried to remember the last few days, but there was nothing there. 6:49am. Maybe in time. The springs in his mattress protested softly as he lowered himself wearily onto the side of his bed. Meanwhile, he had to remember what he was doing today, who he was teaching, when his first class was, whether Dumbledore had asked him to do any favours, whether he was covering any lessons, how much of the day he could manage in his current state….
Screaming. And pain. Screaming over and over and over.
The springs groaned in protest once again, as he slid back onto the pillows in a faint.
AN: So there's your little Snape torture fix, please do review and let me know if you liked it! Most chapters will be quite short, i seem to be unable to write anything long, but they're only going up if you ask for them.