Adhere
"I'm sorry Severus."
Those were the worst words any one could have ever said to me. It was worse being called ugly in my youth. It was worse than my decision to join the Dark Lord. It was worse than betraying the one you loved. It worse than the torment I went through when courting the one I love now. It was worse than stabbing myself with my own blade. I sink into a chair someone was gracious enough to conjure, without my noticing.
"The bludger hit him in the head before knocking him off his broom. He fell from a great distance and no one could slow his fall. We have done everything we can, but he has slipped into a coma. We won't know the extent of the damage until he awakens."
My body stiffens. I will not cry here, nor will I ever cry. I am stronger than this.
"Severus?"
I look up at her, the medi-witch that has just single handedly destroyed what was left of the piece I had in my life. I regret looking up. I do not wish to see the look on her face, the look of pity.
"I have to tell you that there is a possibility of brain damage Severus. I could cause potential or permanent amnesia. There is a chance…"
I tune her out. I don't want to hear it. I don't want to hear that I may lose him, I don't want to think that maybe he will not remember me. I can't bear it. Swiftly, I get to my feet. I am aware that she was in a middle of a rant that died in her throat at my abrupt stand. I can hear her call my name as I flee the hospital wing. I don't want to hear her sympathies; I don't want her to apologize for something that she has no control over. I don't want to hear of the other potential damages that could have been done to his brain. Amnesia, that is enough… enough to break me. I curse myself for my weakness. I curse myself for fleeing, for falling in love… with him. I don't think about where I am going. My feet just wonder. They take me where I do not want to go, but where I need to be: The dungeon. The same place we have spent so many nights together: loving each other, holding each other: comforting one another. I shake my head to try and clear it. I can't, though I have too. I will not cry. I know he will come back to me and we will love one another for many more years to come. I wipe my face of the tears I hadn't known I shed until that moment. I can't dawdle in self-misery; I have work to do. Honestly I just want to do something else, something that doesn't remind me of my grief. Potions: and I head to my lab, determined to forget.
One month past then two, and then after the eighth month I stopped counting. I don't know how long I stayed by his bedside, holding his hand, touching his face, running my hands through his unruly raven hair. At some point that wretched mutt he calls his godfather came in to check on him. He'd glare at me with disapproval, I glare right back. I now reserve my special glare, the one that makes first years cry, especially for the mutt. After years of being with his godson I am pleased to see that this particular look still pisses him off. I grin evilly and just to spit him, I tell myself, I brush my lips across his. He doesn't twitch, he doesn't frown, he doesn't move. I feel my heart plummet. I wanted him to stir. I wanted him to know who I am. I don't let disappointment show on my face as when I plop back down into my seat. A sigh betrays me by rushing past my lips.
"Severus?'
Mournfully I meet his gaze. For the moment I see pity flicker in his eyes before it is replaced with unbidden sorrow.
"How is he?"
I consider his question for a moment; trying to figure out how to answer. I guess the truth is always best.
"There is no change." He lays here; unmoving: unbidden. No sound has come out of his mouth in so many months: I miss it, I miss his voice; I miss his laugh; I miss his smile; I miss his kisses. I miss the fire of anger, or determination in his eyes. Most importantly I miss him: all of him, every inch of him. I miss him so much it hurts, and for as many a time as I have done during the time he has been unconscious, I curse him. I am angry to have known him; to have fallen in love with him. And: just like the other times, I curse myself for forsaking him: For doubting him. I stick to my resolve: he will come back to me: or I'll rip him out of heaven myself.
That was the last time I saw Black. He must have given up hope; just like all of the others. The Granger girl, and the Weasley boy stopped arriving months ago, Black pops in from time to time, though when he was first in here Black used to come every day. Now it is only I. I will single handedly wait for him. For I had made a vow: for better or worst. That is exactly how I will have it.
It has been a whole year; and still he has not moved. Poppy tells me that it will take a miracle to wake him now. I agree but silently. I never stray much from his side any more. I feel inclined to be here, in case he awakens. I am surprised by a knock on the infirmary door. One by one they come piling in. Fred George, Ginerva, Ron, Hermione. I am stunned into silence When Draco and Pansy waltz in behind them.
"Hello, Professor," Parkinson says too cheerily, but any snide comment I may have had dies on my lips when she kisses my cheek. I don't get a chance to speak when the infirmary door bangs against the wall. I start and curse under my breath for showing weakness. The Mutt and the Wolf walk in holding gifts and only then I note that everyone has a gift. I arch my brow questioningly.
'What are you all doing here," I sneer.
"Oh, come off it Uncle Sev. We all didn't want you to be alone today."
I arch a brow. They didn't seem to have a problem with it before. Of course I say nothing and turn back to him. He is the only one I want right now. Him! The only thing I want for today is for him to open his eyes. Everyone is talking to him, saying hello, apologizing for not being around more, though Draco and Pansy don't include themselves in that. I am startled again when the charm monitoring him starts to go off. I panic, thinking the worst has finally happened, and then reprimanding myself for my useless doubts. I shout for Poppy and the medi-witch rushes to his side. I hold my breath when I hear him grown. I'm still holding my breath when his eyes flutter open and bottle green assaults me.
Briefly, I wonder if this is what he had been waiting for; if he wanted everyone here happy and talking with him. Poppy stands back a bit when she assures herself that he is well enough to have visitors.
"Hello, Harry," Hermione says first and I watch as his eyes lock with hers. There is no recognition in his eyes, and I fear the worst. Slowly his eyes travel over everyone's faces. I'm still holding my breath as his eyes travel over every one in the room. I feel panic rising in my chest. What if he doesn't remember me? What if I find disgust on his face? I close my eyes. Fight or flight kicks in. I flee, but I do not get far.
"Severus," he croaks.
I freeze, was it him? I turn, and my breath flies out in a 'whoosh'. He is looking at me. His eyes are sparkling with recognition; he is smiling broadly at me. I feel the tears fall before I can do anything to stop them.
Concern replaces the smile in his eyes.
"Severus," he croaks again and my resolve breaks. My head falls involuntarily into my hands. I shudder as tears consume me. I do not think to curse me weakness this time; I do not think to curse him this time. My only thought is that I am relieved. And truly: honestly I AM.
The end
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