A/N: So, I should give some credit here. This part, the idea of it, came from a scene from Severus Snape MiM's story After the Battle that I helped cowrite. You can find it on here if you want to give it a read. Either way, enjoy and thank you so much for sticking with me along with wanting more of it.
So Much for Promises
Darkness, I awake to absolute nothingness. It's not hell, but I know that it will be now that I am destined to be apart from her . . . even in death. I swallow back my emotions, not knowing if I am doing the same in the waking world. Why? Why has she done this to me? I have nothing, nothing but pain awaiting me. Why?
"Please . . . please don't . . ." a voice cries around me in the black, echoing.
I turn left and then right, attempting to see them. I see nothing, though. More soft tear-filled pleas echo about the darkness, sounding even more desperate than before. I don't recognize the voice. It seems . . . peculiar to me. I try to focus on the voice, only to feel myself start to fall in a never ending spiral of light. I don't fight it. It'd do no good anyway.
"Not Severus," the voice sobs from the shadows. "Please . . . I'll do anything."
I can hear the sadness and fear in the words. Who is this person that is begging for my life to be spared? It isn't Harry. I know that. The boy likely rushed off in glee with my supposed death after all the shit I put him through over the years. Who is this person?
A moment later, I stop falling as I feel something against my lips. It's warm and salty I take note of. So it definitely is not a bezoar then. I then feel warmth flood my body, reaching every spot. I breathe it all in, not wanting the goodness to stop. I don't know why I do it, but I do.
A jolt of something causes a part of the darkness to break apart like a shattered vase. I then feel it again, drinking it in as much as possible. It tastes sweet I notice, intoxicating also. I hear the thumping of my own heart as it likely starts again.
Something wet then hits my cheek. I brush my hand against it, frowning when I find nothing. This is a manifestation of my waking self. It has to be. Then whoever is saving me is crying. But who would waste tears on me? Unless the tears shed are from joy. I certainly have loads of people who fall under that category.
It takes a few moments before I start to smell raspberries. My eyes narrow before I attempt to focus on the scent. It's so familiar to me. I draw more of it in, closing my eyes. A blurred face swirls in the deepest recesses of my mind, just out of reach. And then it hits me . . . Sinistra.
I feel breath against my face, so I know she's close. I don't understand, though. Why can't I just open my eyes? It takes a moment of trying, my energy draining even more, but finally I'm able to, if only a bit. I see a hazy blur that I just know is her. She's holding my head up. I can feel her hands on either side of my face. I try to speak, but only a sickening gurgle comes from my mouth.
"Shh, don't speak. Oh, Circe above, please don't speak."
I can hear the relief in her voice mixed with the fear and heartbreak. I brush off her words, knowing myself better than she does. I can speak. I will prove it to her. By Merlin's wand, I will. I open my mouth again, only to have her shove something in and push my jaw shut.
"Swallow it. Please, Severus," she pleads, her voice shaking while holding my gaze. "It's a bezoar. Found it in your inner robe pocket," she rambles, clearly rattled by my state.
I glare in response, not making the effort to swallow the offending object.
"Severus, don't make me force you to swallow it."
My glare intensifies, practically daring her to do so. A moment later, her hand goes to my Adam's apple, massaging it and hitting my reflex. She wins again, I think, as I swallow. I lay there, unable to do anything else, feeling her slip her arm underneath my head to hold it up. I watch her uncork a vial with her thumb before pouring the clear substance onto my neck. It takes a moment or two before I realize what it was. My eyes snap up to hers. Blasted Goddamn woman, I think. She's wasting valuable Phoenix tears on me.
"Don't look at me like that, Severus," she softly whispers, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. "I'm saving your life. That's all there is to it."
I clench my teeth. That is not all there is to it! I was supposed to spend my eternity with Lily, not be here . . . with her. I should be dead! Why didn't she just leave me? Why are both of them conspiring against me? My question dies on my lips when I catch the surprise in her eyes after she glances off in the direction of the door. Two jets of light, green and red I notice, whizz past us. I turn my head, instinctively reaching for my wand only to find nothing. Without notice, I feel myself being pulled into a side-along Apparation with a horrifying scream next to me.
When we appear a moment later, we slam hard onto a stone floor in someone's drawing room. The wind instantly is knocked out of me. I groan immediately before attempting to grab Sinistra's upper arms to shake her as she lies on top of me. I absolutely despise side-along Apparation. However, as I move, I notice a shadow approaching with a drawn wand. I stop, slowly inching my fingers around her wand that is pinned against us. She doesn't attempt to stop me. In fact, she doesn't even move.
"Aura?" a man asks softly, a brown haired man I notice. The man's rich chocolate eyes then narrow when he receives no answer. A few seconds later, he kneels beside us, carefully extracting Sinistra from me. His eyes dart toward me before he calls out a name. "Syra! Come quickly!" His voice lowers as he gently brushes aside Sinistra's stray curls.
It's then that I notice the dark stain on her robes that is growing at an alarming rate. I glance up at her face as the man holds her against him, applying pressure to her wound. Her head is slumped forward, clearly a sign of unconsciousness. When was she injured? Was that when I heard the scream earlier? I attempt to sit up in order to help. However, the man quickly whips his wand toward me, stunning me instantly and causing my stiffened body to slam back onto the floor. I growl in my head at my stupidity for not anticipating that.
I listen to the heels clicking against the stone floor, and then to the whispers between the two. Syra instructs the man to move aside his hand before muttering something under her breath. I can't catch it in time. I then hear the witch cast Rennervate on the unconscious witch and hear the subsequent moan.
"Pro . . . tect him . . . please," Sinistra weakly says, drawing in a rasp.
"Hush, you foolish child," the witch scolds. "Release her, Orin. I'll take her from here."
A moment later, I hear the heels retreating. I assume instantly that whoever the witch is that she's going to attempt and likely fail at healing Sinistra. I have always assumed the worst, though. However, when the man's face comes into my line of sight, I send him my worst glare, even though I understand his reasoning for stunning me. The man only sends another spell toward me. I have never been so helpless before in my life. The spell hits me and without another word, I'm unconscious.
~IP~
I awake to a scream from a nearby room. I instantly sit up, only to find myself come face to face with a familiar wand. I glance up from it to the man's face. He's calm and still as he holds me at wandpoint. I clench my teeth, wondering where the hell my wand is when another scream pierces the air. My head jerks toward the closed door. I know that scream.
"Sinistra," I say without realizing I've said it. It barely registers when the man flinches in response. "I have to see her. I can help her."
"Son, I suggest you sit back down on that bed . . . now."
"I can help her, though."
"I'm sure you can, son," replies the man, clearly not believing a word of what he says. "But right now she's in the capable hands of her mother."
"Her mother?" My eyes then narrow on him. It takes a moment but I see it. The eyes, they're the same. "You're her father?"
"Maybe," he answers, shrugging half-heartedly.
"Please. Let me see her. I swear on my oath that I'm not a threat to your family." I don't react when the man scoffs in response. After all, I can understand that.
"Who are you to her?"
"Her . . . friend," I finish lamely, cursing myself inwardly for it. I could have said boss, coworker, any number of things, but instead I say friend. He'll see right through it.
"What's your name, son?"
"Severus," I answer instantly, shuddering inside when I hear the cry this time weaker than before. I can see it in the man's eyes that he too would rather be there with his daughter. "Please, sir, I can help her."
"How?"
"I'm specialized in healing spells." Not exactly a lie. I am rather talented with them, but only through loads of experience. I've had no formal training unless one counts returning from meetings when the Dark Lord wasn't in a good mood. "Please, sir. I can help." I feel uneasy under his brown eyes, but he lowers his wand a moment later.
"If you're her Severus, then I suppose I should let you at least try."
I brush off his words, moving toward the door. It takes me a moment to orient myself when I reach the corridor. Her father, however, points to a half-opened door. I stride in, nearly stopping in mid step when I see how pale she looks. She's lost a tremendous amount of blood, and the set up her mother is using . . . I shudder instantly.
"What is he doing in here?"
"He says he can help, Syra," the man replies quietly behind me.
I gently rest a hand on Sinistra's forehead, frowning at how cold she is. She's clearly in shock. I then hold my hand out toward Syra. The witch only glares at me.
"I require a wand."
"Oh, I'm sure you do," she snarls back with pure vitriol in every word.
"Here," her father says, handing me a wand that I know is his daughter's. "Heal her please."
I waste no time with pleasantries. I quickly set off to work, vanishing the blood-soaked robes to see the extent of her wound. I ignore the look of hatred directed at me by her mother. Without a doubt, I know what curse was used . . . mine.
I center myself, brushing off every shred of self-doubt before reciting the countercurse in a slow and steady tone. It is as if I'm singing or at the very least chanting. I watch the wound slowly close, feeling myself tremble slightly as it does. This is my curse that has harmed her. I am at fault for creating it in the first place. Her blood is added to my already soaked hands.
"Do you have any Dittany in your residence?" I ask her father. When he nods, I feel more at ease. "Good, get it at once. It'll lessen the probability of any scarring." I say nothing when her father calls for a house elf. In fact, I glance back toward Sinistra. Her eyes are closed, and her head turned to the side. She's breathing, though. I can feel that. It is absurd how the world works. Lily sends me back, and I nearly get Sinistra killed as a result. So much for promises.
