Disclaimer: Not mine.

A Best Forgotten Conspiracy

Chapter 4

"Fourteen years?" she said after her tears abated.

"Yes," Severus said flatly from the chair next to her bed.

"I didn't keep track very well did I?" She tried a weak smile, her hand going to her hair, tugging it down as if trying to lengthen the mess. "I didn't know… when I looked in the mirror….I thought…,"

"It will grow back." Severus frowned at her, feeling uncomfortable around a witches tears. "Minerva is floo-ing the Medi-Witch to look at your injuries. You are to stay in bed until she arrives."

"No, I want to get up. I feel trapped in this bed."

"I could let you up to sit by the window." He stood to prepare to move her. "I do not think you should go further than this room."

"Am I to be held a prisoner?"

"Miss Livingston," he said, trying to be patient. "I am in this position at the request of the Headmaster. Normally, I would be more than happy to open the door if it would get you to leave quicker. However, I am afraid I am to be stuck with your company and you with mine."

"The sun hurts my eyes. It's why I came at night." She looked to the window. "Move and I can sit here, just let me out of this bloody bed."

He stood, grinding his teeth at being ordered around by this witch, and watched as she again climbed out of bed and stood unsteadily.

"Do you need help, Miss Livingston?" he intoned coldly.

"No," she spat back, "have you forgotten what I told you?"

"I seem to remember the last time you refused my offer I found you on the floor in tears." He crossed his arms and looking down at her.

"I am fine," she said somewhat softer. "I am sorry I am not fast enough for you."

Severus conjured a chair for himself and sat across from the witch to wait for Poppy. He was not a man to sit idle, and was soon tapping his foot and glancing around the room impatiently.

"I used to do that."

"Do what?" he sneered as he stilled his foot.

"Fidget, tap, squirm, pace, and all the little distractions you do when you think no one will notice," she said evenly.

"Miss Livingston, no matter how exciting you find this after your time in Azkaban, I assure you I do not. I fidget when I am bored."

"I get sleepy when I am bored." She scowled and locked her eyes to his. "I fidget when I can not move, when my mind wants to do something my body cannot. That was the worse part I think."

"I would think there are other things that were worse."

"Pain?" She gave a hollow laugh. "No, not nearly. Pain is only a reminder that you are still alive, sometimes the only reminder. Everyone has their own fears, in Azkaban you can hear them, the fears I mean."

"And what pray tell was yours?" Severus asked before he could stop. "I am sure the Dementors did not leave many fears to hear, so the ones you heard must have been your own."

"I would like that dinner every one keeps promising." She avoided his question. "I have not had a decent meal in a long time."

Severus flinched as her comment struck him. She had not had a decent meal in fourteen years. He walked to the floo and going down on his knees ordered the kitchen to send up a selection of foods for her.

"Your dinner shall be here shortly." He sat again. "It takes longer in the summer. Albus does not keep the kitchen fully stocked when the students are not here."

"Can you tell me what has been happening?" She looked at him again with the same wide-eyed look he had seen when she held the mirror.

"About what?" he asked her.

She sat without answering, having too many questions to put out, until the elf brought the tray, then leaning forward in her chair she reached first for a cup of tea. Holding the cup under her nose, she took a deep breath and then sat it back down with out so much as a sip.

"Are you not hungry?" Severus watched her closely.

"Yes," she whispered and looked down at her lap. "I want to get dressed and I want you to stop looking at me like some animal in a cage."

Severus stood up and walked to the closet in the back of the infirmary and grabbed three sets of robes, not knowing her size, returning to the witch he handed them to her and then left the curtained off area around her bed.

"If you would prefer to eat alone I will remove myself." He offered from outside the closed off area.

"No, I just need to dress," she said too quickly, "I don't mind the company."

Severus started to pace, then remembering their conversation quickly stopped and rolled his eyes at his own foolishness. He wanted to leave the hospital wing, and return to his work. He would not give her the satisfaction of seeing she was correct in her assumption of his pacing. Hearing the curtains drawn back, he turned to see her step out and return to the chair.

"The robes do not fit you. I will ask Minerva for something more suitable."

"These will do." She looked down at the tray. "I have no money for new robes."

She reached for the tea again, this time bringing it to her mouth and drinking half the cup before setting it down. Then she picked up a plate and started in on dinner, taking a little of everything that was offered until her plate was heaped.

Sitting back with a sigh, she held her plate in her left hand, bringing it close to her mouth as she used her right hand to hold a spoon and shovelled the food into her mouth. Severus watched, seeing her fourteen years in Azkaban in her actions and could not bring himself to correct her. Waiting until she seemed finished, he picked up a bowl of pudding and taking her plate, placed the bowl in her hand.

"No, I have had quite enough," she said refusing the bowl, and setting it down. "I should leave now."

"You will wait for Madam Pomfrey."

"I don't think she can help," Redda said honestly. "I have been like this too long. If you would be so good as to find me some shoes, or perhaps repair my old ones I will be on my way."

"Where would that be?" He raised his eyebrow at her with a smirk. "Since your lover seems to be dead where had you planned on going?"

The words were hardly out of his mouth when she flung the entire tray at him. He did not have time to do more than jump up and reach for his wand before the sound of her feet making for the door echoed through the infirmary.

"Shite," he muttered as he took off after her knowing that he once again said the wrong thing.

She was half way down the hallway when he caught her. He picked her up and put her over his shoulder as he angrily walked back to the infirmary.

"Perhaps if you listen to your pain now it would tell you to get your damned legs fixed so you can run faster," he fumed.

"Bastard!" She screamed at him as she pounded on his back and tried to kick his face. "You bloody bastard, you are the same as the rest."

He kicked open the door to the hospital ward and striding over to her bed dumped her back down in a heap.

"If you ever try that again there will be repercussions," he seethed at her.

"What? Are you and Albus going to send me back to Azkaban?" she shouted at him. "At least there the guards wear uniforms."

"If I misinterpreted your relationship with the late Mr. Black I will apologize for that." He held up his hand to silence her. "However, from what I hear it was common knowledge that you were living with him and was one of the reasons you found yourself on trial."

"That is what that bastard Albus told them, it is what he wanted them to believe," she screamed at him. "Ask him why he did this to me. Ask him why I rotted fourteen years."

"If you were indeed so badly mistreated, why was Hogwarts the first place you came?" he sneered at her.

"The bloody oath you arse, I am sure if you work for him he extracted an oath from you as well, don't think I forgot who the fuck you are," she hissed, waiting for him to deny his oath. She was surprised at the look on his face, and the slight nod of recognition he gave.

"He set me to work with Black. At the time I was flattered, I was young, I thought I was doing a great thing to save the world. Now I know he wanted everyone to see me as no more than Black's whore. He knew, he knew what would happen! I was just a throw away. I had no family, no place to go, no one who would miss me, or come looking for me."

"I am sure there is more to this story." He ran his hand though his hair.

"I have spent fourteen years going over this in my mind. I can remember every damn word that was given at my trial," she said no longer shouting, but her breaths coming fast.

"Sirius never touched me. I was sixteen, he never touched me." She turned red and looked away. "Every one thinks that I let him do what he wanted, but he never did. He never even tried. He had a girl he was seeing."

"In the Headmaster's office, when you heard he was dead…"

"I didn't know he had been freed," she cried, tears coming to her eyes and falling down her cheeks. "He was free and didn't take me with him. He did not come back for me. He left me in there the same as Albus and all the rest. I always thought he would save me, I always thought he would be there when I got out."

"Obviously you put your trust in the wrong person." He again beginning to pace. "He escaped, he as not freed."

"If you want to leave that badly that you can not sit still, leave," she said seeing him walking back and forth. "Go ask your precious mentor what he is up to. Let's see who else placed their trust in the wrong person."

"He is not my…"

"You have no family, do you? Do you have anyone who would come looking it you were to disappear?" She paused until he stopped walking and looked at her coldly. "No, I thought not."

"I was not a member of the Order at that time, I am sure you remember that?" he sneered at her.

"Of course I do. But who else is there now?" She questioned him arching her brow. "Most of them are just plain witches and wizards, ready to fight for the cause. However, what of the ones used for his missions? What of the ones that he favours? They are all like us."

"You are wrong," he said feeling uncomfortable.

"Really?" she leaned back and folded her arms. "Think of your last meeting, think of who was there and who was discussed. Think of who will go, or is already on a mission of some sort."

"Where are you going with this," he started to pace again.

"Now tell me how many are not alone in this world. Tell me how many are either cast off Mudbloods or unwanted by their own families. Give me the name of just one that would be mourned more than a lost tool of his war." Her eyes locked into his.

Severus stood and looked at her oddly. He thought of Remus, sitting at the back of the meeting alone, still sitting next to the empty chair that had been Sirius'. His mind flew to Moody, always angry, his entire family dead. Tonks did not fit the scenario, would not her Muggle side of the family miss her? Pushing aside his own part in the Order, his mind landed on Potter.

The boy was well loved, but only by other Order members. He would be missed, but no one from outside the Order would look for him. His Muggle family would be glad he was gone. Severus also knew that the Order would believe what Albus said. The boy would be in the last battle, the child would save them all, but that only one could live.

"Miss Livingston," Albus stood in the doorway, anger flowing off him in waves. "While you are a guest in this castle I will demand better of you."