3 – A Trust That Binds

Severus' Saturday visits became a habit, and for a month following his first unexpected appearance, he showed up on my doorstep at exactly one o'clock each Saturday afternoon. At first, we stayed in the cottage discussing potions, researchers, and articles that we had read. Sometimes, I'd venture to ask if he'd heard anything from Albus or Voldemort. He would answer my questions as quickly and briefly as possible as if to avoid breaking the comfortable atmosphere that we were creating. On his third visit, we ventured outside for a walk in the foothills of the majestic mountains and forest that surrounded the cottage. I pointed out some of the plants that I had been using in my potions and others that I didn't have the need for yet but thought would be interesting for future research. Severus listened attentively, taking in the information.

"Do you realize that you have a book of new treatments and cures sitting on your kitchen table?" he pointed out one afternoon as we wandered the hillside. "In all of your studies, did you ever apprentice with a Potions Master?"

"Yes. I apprenticed for almost two years with Maestro Paolo Nastroma before he unexpectedly died. Then, I left to help Albus. The rest, you know. How does a ghost become a Potions Mistress?" I asked sadly.

"I should introduce you to my Master. Maybe he can connect you with another Master here?" he said thoughtfully, examining the buds of a low shrub.

"You would do that?" I asked, kneeling beside him.

"Why not? Look at the work we used to do at Hogwarts. Look at what you've accomplished here, with no guidance. It wouldn't hurt to ask."

I was stunned that Severus would make such an offer. How would I explain my experiences? That was a lifetime ago under a different name. Did Maestro Nastroma keep records of his apprentices? My mind reeled.

As we leisurely strolled back to the cottage, I stepped over a fallen log and slipped on a dewy patch of grass. Severus' hand shot out and caught my arm to steady me. I regained my balance quickly, but he didn't let go. As we continued along the path, his hand slid down to hold mine. He didn't look at me but kept his eyes straight ahead. I watched him through sideways glances. His hair was pulled back again with a black string. His angular face and Roman nose, for lack of a better description, presented an impressive profile. He moved with a confident stride, and I found myself smiling. For the first time in a long time, I felt truly happy.

The following Saturday, one o'clock came and went, and Severus didn't appear. I found myself wandering through the cottage, dispirited. I had gone to the market that morning with the hope that Severus would stay for dinner. He was always commenting about the meagre contents of my fridge. I knew that his time with me was limited as he had work to do with his Master, but his Master seemed fair enough to offer Severus time off if his work for the week was complete. Maybe they were onto some sort of a breakthrough that required their attention, I thought. I remembered those days, but that didn't ease my mood.

I put the groceries away, tidied up some research that I had wanted to discuss with Severus, and kept glancing out the window. Finally, I gave up.

Sitting in the armchair, in the darkening sitting room, I moped, not wanting to turn on the lights, make dinner, read, or do anything. I just sat there. It was getting late, and I must have nodded off, because I was startled by the sensation of the security wards being triggered. Someone was coming. It was dark outside, and with no lights on in the house, I was instantly alert, wand in hand.

The knock at the door was weak. Silently moving into the hallway, I cast a Seeing Spell and saw Severus leaning against the wooden frame, his head propped against the edge of the small, glass window. He looked injured. Quickly lighting the wall sconce to a dim light, I opened the door, and he practically fell into my arms.

"What happened? Where are you hurt?" I asked anxiously pulling him into the cottage, removing his cloak as we moved. There was no answer. His body shook with the strain, his breathing was laboured, and his eyes were unfocused. I half carried him into the sitting room and lay him on the sofa. The pain emanating from his body was so intense that it tingled my skin.

"Severus, look at me." I placed my hand on his burning cheek, turning his face to meet my eyes. "You're safe now. What happened?" The tremors were so bad that he couldn't respond. "Forgive me, Severus, but I must know." I balanced myself on the sofa and positioned my face above his. With all the concentration that I could muster I tried something that I hadn't done in over a year. "Legilimens," I whispered. Dark images came into view; black cloaks, silver skull masks, a circle of people, and Voldemort. Fear and then pain shot through Severus' body, as I finally understood– Crucio. It affects the nervous system, short-circuiting the neurons throughout the body, creating a hypersensitivity to light, sound, and touch. I knew this curse all too well. Summoning the quilt from the armchair, I wrapped Severus as tightly as I could and dimmed the lights even further. There was little that could be done, as there was no treatment for this Unforgivable. As I sat on the floor beside the sofa, waiting for the tremors to subside, I watched Severus' face, creased with pain, and wondered what he had done to receive this punishment. Finally, the tremors slowed and finally stopped, the creases smoothed, and his breathing evened. Gently brushing the hair away from his face, I softly whispered, "You're safe with me."

In the early hours of morning, as dawn sat on the horizon, I sat a vigil, watching over him as he had once watched over me.

A low groan brought my awareness into full focus, and I was immediately on my knees at his side.

"Shh," I whispered. "Don't try to move."

His eyes fluttered open, and he winced as the morning sun beamed through the back window. I had closed the curtain, but it wasn't enough. Streaks of light crept around the edges, drawing lines across the floor and wall.

"What time is it?" he croaked, his voice deep and resonating from lack of use.

"Mid-morning, I think. There's no clock in here," I replied.

He tried to sit up but unsteadily fell back onto the sofa, wincing again.

"Don't move. I'll get you something." I left him lying on the cushions, his left arm shielding his eyes from the light. In the kitchen, I heated a valerian and chamomile infusion. This would at least dull some of the pain. When I returned, he had half-propped himself into a sitting position. I handed him the potion, and he raised a dark brow at me, questioningly, but took the cup and drank the potion without a word. I retrieved the cup as he began to shake his head weakly.

"It was stupid of me to come here. I could have been followed. I've put you at risk," he admonished himself.

"Then, why did you come?" I asked.

There was no answer. He leaned his head back against the cushions and covered his face with his hands.

"Severus, I don't think you were followed. I've been up all night, and my wards only sounded when you arrived. They're strong ones. I would know if someone else was here."

He looked at me with a strained face. "You are far too accepting."

"Maybe, but you took a risk when you helped me. Consider it payback," I responded compassionately.

He snorted, shaking his head again slowly, looking up at the ceiling.

"You need to rest more comfortably," I gently commanded. "Come on. Get up." I took him by the arm and helped him to his feet, leading him, haltingly, down a short hallway to the bedroom. Casting a Warming Spell on the simple room and drawing the shades, I turned down the thick covers of the double bed. Severus stood unsteadily in the doorway watching me. His eyes were beginning to unfocus again.

"It's soft and warm." I indicated to the bed. "It'll take awhile to recover from this. Sleep as long as you need." I headed to the door to leave.

He carefully sat on the edge of the bed to pull off his boots. He looked so tired. As I began to close the bedroom door, I turned and saw him pull his sweater over his head, leaving him in a short-sleeve black t-shirt. The Dark Mark on his left forearm stood out against the pale skin looking ominous and foreboding. He gazed at it for a moment, then closed his eyes as if willing it away. Tipping to his right, he gently lowered himself to the soft mattress and pulled the cover over is shoulder.

It was late afternoon before Severus rose and made his way to the bathroom. I could hear him retching all the way in the kitchen. A delightful side effect of Crucio, I thought sarcastically as I filled a glass with cold water, put a dash of peppermint extract into it, and headed for the bathroom. I waited in the doorway until I felt that he was done. As he sat leaning against the wall between the door and the toilet, I handed him a warm, wet cloth to wipe his face, and then handed him the glass. He eyed it suspiciously.

"It's just water and peppermint," I assured him. "Rinse and spit. You'll feel better."

He looked up through the familiar curtain of black hair with an "I doubt it" expression, but he took the proffered glass and did as he was told. As he moved, he swayed, and I thought he was going to be sick again.

"Would you like something to settle your stomach?" I asked quietly.

"No, I think I'll be alright."

"If you need it, I have a Liquorice Root tonic in the cupboard." I opened the cabinet above the sink and placed the small amber bottle on the counter. "I also have another valerian and chamomile infusion ready to be heated in the kitchen. I've adjusted the portions to accommodate your body mass and metabolism. Crucio does nasty things to the nervous system, and it'll help."

"I should go," he said trying unsuccessfully to get to his feet

"You'll go nowhere until you're ready," I said firmly. "You're safe here, and you need to get your strength back. Trust me, I know. It takes a while."

He looked at me with a closed expression. I couldn't tell what was going through his mind.

"I've also made a chicken and vegetable soup. It's light enough for your stomach to handle when you're ready."

"Do you eat anything other than chicken?" he mocked.

"Occasionally a child wanders through the woods and tries to eat pieces of my cottage. They taste very good oven-baked," I joked. But, my reference to the Muggle fairytale "Hansel and Gretel" was over his head, and he gave me a puzzled expression.

"Never mind," I said with a sigh.

Severus slept for another few hours and rose as the sun was beginning to set. I had managed to take a catnap on the sofa and joined him in the kitchen for some soup. We ate in silence. I had so many questions, but I didn't know how he would handle them. We had a trust that I didn't want to jeopardize, but there were things that I needed to know.

"Did the infusions help you sleep?" I questioned, beginning the conversation innocently enough.

"Yes."

"There's more in the pot if you like."

"No."

"Will you tell me what happened last night?" I figured I'd stop beating around the bush.

"No."

"I saw the mark on your arm. I didn't think he could reach you here in Italy."

"Nor did I."

His answers were short, but it was easier than I thought. I cautiously continued.

"How did you get home in such a state? Apparating would have been impossible. You didn't have the strength." I didn't realize that I had used the word "home" until it was out of my mouth. It sounded natural.

"Emergency Portkey."

"Portkey? From who?"

"Dumbledore."

"He knew that I would take care of you, but why didn't you tell me before?"

"I never thought that I would need it, and I thought it was set to my quarters in Rome. I would never have gotten you involved."

"He knew that you would need someone to help you, and I'm glad to do it. If Albus set the Portkey to me, then it would be untraceable, so don't worry; he's spent a lifetime protecting me. He's not going to get careless now."

Severus looked over the table at me, his expression guarded. Grudgingly, he knew I was right.

"I should be leaving. Thank you for what you've done." He rose carefully and headed for the bedroom to retrieve his boots.

I sat at the table watching him gather his things.

"I won't stop you, but I wish you'd stay. It's not over yet. You'll still feel the pain for a day or so."

"I can't stay," his voice sounded from the bedroom. "I have work tomorrow, and the longer I stay, the more at risk you are."

"Fine then, but keep taking the valerian and chamomile. It's more effective hot, like a tea, but it will make you sleepy. Do you have a lot to do with the Potions Master tomorrow?"

"We have some research to do, and we're still testing the effectiveness of certain combinations," he said as he returned to the kitchen.

"Good," I replied. "You'll need to take it easy."

I walked him to the front door. It was dark now, nearly twenty-four hours since he arrived on my doorstep, injured. He took his cloak from me and hesitated before putting it on. I looked up into his dark eyes, seeing into their depths. He was transfixed.

What do you want to do?

"Kiss you," he said aloud, surprised by the sound of his own voice.

"Then, do it," I breathed.

He tentatively lowered his head to mine, lips lightly brushing against lips, like a whisper that was unspoken. Then, his lips passed from mine, barely touching my skin as they crossed my cheek and stopped at my ear.

"Be careful," he whispered as he took a step back and walked out the door.

I stood, watching him go, my knees weak. I drew a deep breath and closed the door.

You be careful, too.