By eleven that night, the pain in Snape's leg became too unbearable to ignore. He wished he had taken Arthur up on his offer to open a bottle of Firewhiskey. Even Molly noticed his discomfort.
"Are you certain you wouldn't rather spend the night here, Severus? I know you haven't had time to air out your house. You could get a good night's sleep and be fresh and ready in the morning.
Fighting not to let out a string of expletives as he slowly stood, Severus snarled in response. "I fail to see how sleeping on that cramped, sagging couch of yours could possibly constitute a good night's sleep."
He instantly regretted his display of temper. Molly looked stricken and Arthur's face had reddened alarmingly. He couldn't believe he had said such a thing to the very people who treasured Rose as much as he. Contrite, he did his best to make amends, but it was difficult when it felt like an invisible rapier had skewered his leg.
"My apologies. I am overly tired. While I appreciate your offer, I would be more comfortable sleeping in my own bed."
"Of course," the Weasley matron stammered, still affected by his rudeness if the tears welling in her eyes were any indication.
Arthur was not so forgiving. "I can certainly understand why you would find our cramped couch uncomfortable. In the future, perhaps you would prefer Rose to simply floo home so you aren't forced to endure such mean accommodations."
"That was not my intent," he snapped irritably. "This has nothing to do with the state of your home, Weasley. I would prefer to sleep in my own bed. I doubt my ability to walk in the morning as it is. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall inform Rose that we are taking our leave."
Somehow, he managed to limp from the kitchen table to the door and out to the garden. Cross, frustrated and miserable, he didn't look back. If he had, he would have seen the Weasleys' pained expressions quickly change to ones of profound sympathy. It was probably for the best; like Narcissa Malfoy, pity was the emotion he reviled most of all.
Standing in the tiny sitting room in Spinner's End, Rose Potter agitatedly plucked at her silver bracelet. Biting the inside of her cheek, she blinked back tears. Severus took no notice of her or the dust and grime that had accumulated in his dilapidated family home since his last visit. All he could see was the steep, narrow staircase leading to the bedrooms. It might as well be Mt. Everest. With the spasm in his leg becoming ever more painful, he could not possibly walk to the first floor.
"Professor, please. What's wrong? I didn't get a chance to say goodbye. I don't have my things, or Hedwig's cage! Did the Weasleys do something to offend you? Did I do something? Just tell me. Please, Professor!"
"Enough!" he roared as the searing pain intensified. "I am sick and tired of you constantly assuming everything is your fault! The world does not revolve around Rose Potter! Just be quiet for once and allow me to—"
He broke off as the pain flared to the point where speech was no long possible. It was all he could do not to scream. Gritting his teeth, he doubled over before falling heavily to the floor. Bloody stupid fucking idiot—he should have taken a fourth pain potion, potential overdose or not. Breathing deeply, he fought for calm as Rose bent over him shouting his name.
It was the Cruciatus all over again, only this time it was concentrated in his leg. He squeezed his eyes shut as he Occluded his mind. The mental exercise wasn't enough to eliminate his agony, but after several minutes he found the pain had diminished to the point where he was once again aware of his surroundings.
His skin drenched in a cold sweat, he rolled from his side to his back, completely worn out. Weakly, he gave Rose's hand a reassuring squeeze.
"Rose," he croaked, his throat raw and raspy. "I am sorry. I did not mean . . . ."
"You need to see a Healer," she stated forcefully, completely ignoring his attempt to apologize. "You've been hurting all day; don't think I didn't notice. Should I floo to the Weasleys or St. Mungo's?"
In spite of the situation, he was impressed by her composure. Nervous and frightened, she had put her emotions aside to take charge of the situation. However, he had no intention of allowing her to floo to St. Mungo's by herself, nor could he stand the thought of Molly Weasley hovering over him like an anxious mother hen.
"Neither," he began, but she immediately objected.
"I'm not going to let you stay on this floor, Professor! Bad enough what happened last year."
She referred, of course, to the day the previously summer when Petunia Dursley had all but thrust Rose into his care. Released from St. Mungo's only hours before, he'd overtaxed his weakened body with the trip to Surrey and had collapsed ignominiously to the floor as soon as they had reached Spinner's End. Much like now, he thought with a grimace.
"If you'd let me finish," he testily replied. "I would prefer not to involve the Weasleys at this time."
"I'll go to St. Mungo's, then."
The pain swiftly increasing, he snapped more irritably than he'd intended. "Listen for a minute, you insufferable child! I want you to contact your godfather. I am going to show you how to use your Patronus as a messenger."
"Why not use the floo?"
"Because," he ground out through gritted teeth, "the house is a menace, especially this late at night." Slowly, so as not to jostle his leg, he took out his wand. "You will have to watch closely. The best I can manage at the moment are the wand motions."
After showing her the spell, he could only watch as she confidently cast her Patronus. The radiant doe waited patiently for instructions, allowing Rose to cast the ancillary spell. Thankfully, she proved to be a quick learner.
"What do I say?"
"Tell her the message and the recipient. She will do the rest."
"Okay."
The doe bent down so Rose could whisper in her ear. By then, Snape was in too much pain to bother asking what she had said. By the worried frown on her face, he guessed it would be melodramatic enough to pull Black out of bed. He watched the graceful image leap through the front door before another wave of agony overtook him. As he struggled not to frighten Rose further, he hoped Sirius would hurry.
The fireplace in the sitting room flashed a bright emerald green before depositing two wizards inside the cold hearth at Spinner's End. Rose ran immediately to her godfather, throwing her arms around him before noticing the identity of their second visitor. Doing a double take, she glanced questioningly from Sirius to Draco then back to Sirius before insistently tugging the disheveled wizard towards her incapacitated guardian.
In the fifteen minutes it had taken to summon help, Severus had experienced three more attacks, each more painful than the one before. He was at the point where he'd begun to think that amputation would be preferable to another bout of pain, and sweat ran along his hooked nose to drip slowly on the floor.
Long fingers pressed against his carotid artery as the crushing pain began anew.
"You have got to be the most pig-headed, mulish, stubborn git of a wizard ever to walk this earth. What the bloody hell were you thinking, Snape?"
Obviously, he hadn't, but he wasn't about to tell Black that. Nor could he give a verbal reply; the pain was simply too great. If he opened his mouth, the screams he'd trapped in his throat would erupt like a bubbling cauldron.
After a second of tense silence, the pajama-clad wizard gripped his shoulder. "There's no way round it, I'm going to have to take you to St. Mungo's,"
Grunting his displeasure, Severus nevertheless managed a terse nod. He watched Sirius speak quietly to Rose and Draco when the pain ebbed enough for him to take a few deep breaths. As he floated towards the fireplace, he wished he could stay as a fly on the wall. Black had ordered Rose and Draco to wait together at the house. The teens' confrontation would likely prove interesting.
Someone held his hand. Severus Snape felt a brief stirring of curiosity as that one fact pierced his thoughts. Swimming sluggishly towards consciousness, he gradually took note of the voice which accompanied the comforting gesture. It was a girl's voice, pleasant and familiar, if a trifle self-conscious. Not quite ready to face the reality of what opening his eyes might bring, he floated lazily in his semi-aware state. She told an intriguing tale, and his vivid imagination supplied the rest.
"Merlin, this place is a hovel. You'd think Hogwarts would pay its professors better."
Pulling her eyes off the now empty fireplace, a livid Rose Potter whirled around to face a contemptuous Draco Malfoy. The boy wore striped pajamas, much like his uncle had been wearing, though it didn't appear as if he had slept in a while. Dark smudges underlined his bloodshot eyes.
"It's not a hovel! He just doesn't live here much during the year. So, shut it, Malfoy, or I'll—"
"You'll what?" he asked with a sneer. "You can't hex me here, Potter, unless you intend on getting kicked out of Hogwarts. On second thought, go ahead; it would make my life a whole lot easier."
The girl's anger evaporated. Fiddling with her charm bracelet, she took a tentative step towards the pale blond wizard. "Yeah, about that. I . . . well . . . thanks, for sticking up for me. Pansy told me what Marcus Flint had planned. If you hadn't stopped him, I imagine I'd be . . . ." She shrugged, as if to say she had no idea what would have happened, but they both knew better.
The boy's arrogance all but disappeared. Color rose in his cheeks, although he was quick to look to the floor in order to conceal it. "I'm glad you're alright," he mumbled almost too softly to be heard.
But the young witch had heard. Incredulous, she took another half-step towards him. "I . . . ." She didn't know how to complete the sentence. After an awkward pause she settled on, "I'm sorry about your Dad."
The Malfoy heir jerked his head up to meet her gaze. His vivid blue irises burned with hurt and anger. "Don't be. Nobody else is, especially not me."
"Oh." Her mouth gaped in a fair imitation of Ron Weasely. "Yeah, I guess not. Your mum's going to be alright, though?"
Leaning against a bookcase full of cracked, leather bound books, Draco scowled. "You don't know, do you?"
"Know what?"
"What really happened the night my father died."
Unconsciously, she smoothed her bangs that hid her scar. "Well, I know it was the same night I ended up in the Hospital Wing."
"He saved her."
Bemused, Rose stared at him quizzically. "Sirius saved your mum?"
"Snape," the boy refuted condescendingly, as if daring her to challenge it. "Father warned me not to protect you again. He would have killed Mother this time, but Snape saved her. And, now he's suffering for it. It's my fault."
"You . . . ." Without thinking, she closed the gap between them. Standing inches apart, Rose took his hand. It had been an impulsive act, one she fully expected him to reject. He didn't. Looking down, he laced his fingers with hers.
Then, their eyes met. She saw herself reflected in his gaze—the same fears, the same anger, the same pain, simply a different way of showing it.
"I'm sorry."
"Why?"
It was a fair question. One she had trouble answering when all she could think about were his fingers entwined with hers. She was sorry that he'd acted like such a prat when they'd first met, sorrier still that she hadn't bothered to look past it. But, most of all, she was sorry to be the cause of someone else's pain.
"It's my fault."
He squeezed her hand. "Don't be ridiculous, Potter."
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. His arrogant, dismissive tone was so very . . . Draco, for want of a better word. Then, the arrogance disappeared, replaced by an earnestness that made her heart thud in her chest.
"I'm the one who should be sorry. You wouldn't have been in the Hospital Wing this time if I had told Professor Snape straight off. I'm glad you're alive, Rose."
"Me too," she quietly admitted before reddening in embarrassment. What was wrong with her? Why was she acting like such an idiot? "I mean, I'm glad you're alive too. That night, in the Forbidden Forest, I was scared you'd been . . . ."
Her mind blanked as he leaned slowly towards her. He couldn't be about to kiss her, could he? Her chest tightened and her stomach did a strange flip-flop when he did indeed press his lips to hers. Tentatively, she pressed back before he pulled away.
They stared at each other, both temporarily stunned. She couldn't believe it. Draco Malfoy had kissed her! And, she had kissed him back! Kissing wasn't anything like Parvati Patil had described. He hadn't tried to slobber all over her, and his lips had been nice and warm, not cold and clammy. She vaguely wondered whom Parvati had been kissing before smiling shyly at the boy standing in front of her.
"Hello." Merlin's Beard, could she sound any more witless?
Drawing up to his full height, the proud Slytherin somehow managed to appear both amused and haughty.
"Liked that did you?"
Her reaction was akin to drinking a Pepperup Potion. She was so angry that she thought steam might come from her ears.
"You . . . you . . . YOU MISERABLE, ARROGANT GIT!"
"Wait!" His demeanor changed in an instant. Gone was the arrogance, replaced by an anxiety that made her tense. When he took a step towards her, she took a step back.
He looked her in the eye and then let out a long breath. "Wait, Rose. I didn't mean it like that. I liked it, too."
Oh. Oh! Well, that was alright then. She threw her arms around him.
". . . . So afterwards, it was a little awkward. I mean, the kiss was nice and we hugged and all, but we were both worried about you, and Sirius was taking an awful long time to come back. So, we decided to sit on the stairs and talk. We started talking about the Chamber of Secrets, and when I mentioned Dobby's name, he appeared out of thin air right in front of us! I didn't know house-elves could respond to their name being called from so far away, but Draco said it was part of their magic."
Much closer to waking, Severus sensed her shift in the seat beside him, but his eyes stayed shut.
"Dobby was surprisingly happy to see Draco. But, Draco, he—I'm really glad you're not awake, Professor—he talked Dobby into cleaning Spinner's End. Now, I know I shouldn't have let him, but honestly, it looks loads better. The shelves are dusted and the floors are mopped and the linens are clean and the kitchen sparkles. Besides, Dobby was happy to do it. We did pay him. It was only a couple of knuts, but he acted like we'd given him a dragon's hoard."
She paused for a moment before adding quietly. "It's awfully empty without you in it, though."
The door creaked open and the teen pulled her hand away. "It's time to leave, Rose. Healer Wellby said you could return first thing in the morning."
"Sure thing, Sirius," she answered glumly.
He tried to open his eyes to tell Black to let her stay, but found himself momentarily caught between sleep and wakefulness. A faint, bitter trace of valerian lingered on his tongue, and he guessed that he had been given a Sleeping Draught at some point. Too groggy to be disappointed, Severus listened to the chair scrape across the floor. Rose kissed his cheek, and then the room grew silent once more.
After a while, he dreamed. Though his imaginings started out as nothing more than fanciful fairytales, they soon transformed into vivid, twisted nightmares. The Daily Prophet published an interview written by Rita Skeeter in which he was labeled a fraud, forcing him to take remedial Potions under Horace Slughorn. A huge Grim appeared in front of him on a misty moor, tearing him from limb to limb. Surrounded by those he loved, he transformed into a snarling werewolf to kill them one by one. His left leg chained to a rock, the Dark Lord mocked him as Rose died in his arms.
Weakly, he thrashed about, but try as he might, he could not wake. A string of images marched through his subconscious, each more disturbing than the one before. He begged for help, but all he could manage was a weak groan.
Cool, delicate fingers stroked his cheek. The horrible images slowly receded as his ears filled with the soft sounds of humming. Gradually, his breathing evened as he focused on the world around him.
The tune was hauntingly familiar but one he could not place. One thing, though, was abundantly clear. It was a woman's voice, a woman's soothing touch, a woman's gentle kiss placed upon his brow. Blearily, he managed to open his eyes as his curiosity overcame the last vestiges of the valerian.
"Narcissa."
Tenderly, she smoothed his hair away from his face. "I warned Healer Wellby you were sensitive to Sleeping Draughts."
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he wished the fog in his mind would dissipate. "How long?"
The hint of a frown appeared on her careworn face. "Two days. Long enough to give everyone a fright, even if your Healer insisted you would recover."
Not quite prepared to think about the state of his health, Severus' eyes travelled to her dress. Icy blue, her nightgown was far too delicate to have been hospital issued, but it did suit her. Idly, he fingered the material. The sleeve was soft and silky against his rough fingers as it concealed the bandages on her wrists.
She bent over him, and he suddenly had a much better appreciation for the silky material. It clung to her curves most provocatively. Instantly, he was exceedingly aware.
"I am certain that seducing me as I lie in this bed is against several St. Mungo's regulations."
"Oh?" she answered with exaggerated innocence. "Then, perhaps you should get up. I am certain I saw a broom cupboard nearby."
As much as her reply exhilarated him, the thought of standing forcibly reminded him of the reason he was a patient at St. Mungo's in the first place. The pain in his leg had disappeared, but at what price?
Sitting up, he experimentally swung his legs over the side of the bed. His left moved as easily as his right. Glancing around the dimly lit room, he searched for his cane, but it was nowhere in sight. He'd have to brace himself against the metal bedframe.
Before he could act, however, Narcissa stood before him. Her fingers threaded through his lank hair, she boldly pulled him into a kiss. He answered brazenly, pouring years of self-denial into his passionate response. A tatter of prudence left them both panting, foreheads pressed together.
"You can't do this again, Severus."
His stomach dropped as he feared he was trapped in a cruel nightmare. Had she already come to regret her actions? But, she ploughed on before he could frame a bitter apology.
"You can't mask your pain anymore. You have people who care for you now, more people than you realize." In a choked whisper, she added, "You can't scare me like that again. Please, Severus, you simply can't. If Sirius hadn't brought you in when he did, the nerves in your leg might have been permanently damaged."
Guiltily, he met her gaze. She was right. He was no longer the solitary spy, suffering in silence for the greater good. Rose must be beside herself with worry if Narcissa's reaction was any basis for comparison.
"Forgive me. I have been alone for a very long time."
His lips brushed hers, his kiss an apology and vow as much as a caress. It rapidly built to something much more as she responded unreservedly to his advances. The two might have forgotten caution altogether if not for the sound of voices coming from the hallway.
"How can Matilda lose a patient in the Restricted Ward? You'd think the sound of the alarm would have been a dead giveaway."
"Been caught sleeping on the night shift more than once, hasn't she? Surprised it hasn't happened more often, to tell the truth. Besides, the widow Malfoy's disappeared before. She's a slippery one, she is. We should check the cupboards like her Healer suggested."
The voices faded down the hallway. Both Severus and Narcissa held their hands to their mouths for several more seconds lest they give themselves away. Studying her features, the Potions Master thought the beautiful witch lying beside him looked ten years younger. Sure the hallway was clear, they both laughed like errant schoolchildren.
"I should go," she reluctantly offered once her giggles had subsided.
"Only if you wish to."
The haggard, haunted expression he had seen on her face upon waking suddenly reappeared. Her eyes darted about the room, as if searching for unseen menaces.
"I can't be seen here, Severus. I'll be punished."
Her sudden, all-consuming fear served as a pointed reminder that there was a very good reason why Narcissa Malfoy currently resided in the Restricted Ward at St. Mungo's. He wished Lucius had burned to death in actuality rather than facing the prompt release of the Killing Curse. The contemptible wizard had deserved to suffer far more than he had.
Pulling back her sleek blonde hair, he kissed the nape of her neck. "They wouldn't dare. Stay with me. Perhaps I can return the favor and keep your nightmares at bay."
She stiffened beside him. "How did you know?"
He had the sense not to blurt out that her lack of sleep was written on every line of her face. "It doesn't take a Legilimens to suspect that you might suffer from nightmares after such an ordeal. Besides, they're aware that you've left the ward. Wouldn't you rather stay here and rest than endure tedious questions?"
"I won't be punished?"
"Of course not. You've done nothing wrong."
It was a testament to her faith in him that she merely pulled the blanket over them both in response. Draping his arm over her waist, he rubbed her back as she slowly relaxed. Utterly content, Severus consciously reveled in his own private fairytale. Though all too real, the nightmares could wait just this once.
Author's Notes - Hi! Yes, this chapter took a little longer to write, but I hope it was worth it. Just in case you were wondering, I make no promises about the permanence of a Rose/Draco pairing. Let's allow Rose to enjoy her first kiss and leave it at that. (With Pansy Parkinson hot on his heels the year prior, I'm sure it wasn't Draco's first kiss.) As for Severus and Narcissa, don't expect anything more descriptive. I'm keeping this story at a teen rating no matter what the characters decide to do.
Thanks so much for the positive response to the first chapter. I appreciate all the alerts and favorites. A special thank you to everyone who reviewed. The feedback is very much appreciated. The next chapter will focus on Rose's 14th birthday. I promise there will be some surprises! Hope you enjoy.