Hey readers, I'm back! It's been a rough few weeks for me here, between my work hours and my continuing dental issues. But in spite of the two root canals I had done in the last few days, I finally got the edits back from my beta, and I am able to post a few new chapters. I hope you guys enjoy what I've got for you.

Disclaimer: The world and characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and I claim no ownership whatsoever. I only own my original characters and their names.

~HP~

White knuckles gripped the rim of the toilet bowl Severus was kneeling in front of. His entire body was in tremors as his stomach forced up what was left of what he had eaten the previous day. But no matter how many times he was sick, the nausea would not let up at all. His insides were twisted to painful levels. His throat was burning from the acid and bile, and there was no chance to try and extinguish it. His eyes also stung from the irrepressible, salty tears that now ran down a deathly white cheek. Unable to control his body, Severus fought to stop his bursts of emotion. A grown man could not allow himself to sob like a child.

But he was never this ill as a child.

Behind him, Poppy had a firm hand on his shoulder. With the other, she swept his sweaty hair back away from his face. She kept speaking to him in a quiet, comforting voice. "Easy does it, dear. I've got you, you're alright." To Severus, it was all nonsense. What the hell did she know? He wasn't alright, not in the slightest! For Prospero's sake, he had been trapped on the bathroom floor all morning. He couldn't even crawl over to the sink to get a sip of water. And even if he had, it would have come right back up in minutes.

The retching finally seemed to cease, though still leaving Severus nauseated. He panted hard, just waiting for it to start again. In fact, he was heaving as though to speed it up, get it over with. Poppy was urging him to stop before he overexerted himself. That is any more than he already had. Carefully, she hooked a hand under his arm to help him to his feet. She took a wet cloth and wiped it over his mouth. Severus grasped his stomach, and Poppy rubbed his back while he leaned over the bowl. When it looked that there was indeed nothing left to throw up, the Mediwitch led Severus out of the washroom and into his bedchamber. Immediately, she told him to get into bed.

"It's a good thing I thought to come down here when you were late to your appointment," said Poppy, draping the sheets over Severus's legs. "Why didn't you tell me that your morning sickness was this severe?"

"It wasn't," Severus moaned into his pillow. "I hardly felt ill at all the last few days. Up until today, I was fine."

"Oh goodness, I should have warned you! Morning sickness can have tendencies to come and go in waves. You can be very ill one day, and perfectly healthy the next."

"I don't care, it's still horrid." The ailing wizard lay on his side, curling in around his troubled stomach. Poppy quickly decided that it was a good idea to transfigure a bucket beside the bed. She noticed the drying trails left by tears and sat down on the bed. "You will be alright, dear. It is only temporary."

"Is it?" Severus bit out, his tone laced with spiteful sarcasm. Drained of energy and will power, Severus gave up any thought of a fight and fixated on trying to ride out the nausea.

Poppy gently eased Severus over until he was on his back. "While I'm here, I suppose I should check you over. I would have done so anyway." Severus just nodded, swallowing that terrible taste.

Poppy spent the next fifteen minutes or so waving her wand over Severus's body, casting charms to check both the child's development, and its father's current condition. The entire time, the elderly witch had that same look of concentration etched into the lines in her face. Severus chose to keep his eyes closed so as to not see this expression, or any changes to it. He didn't want to know what she was doing, or what she was thinking to do.

"Alright then," Poppy said, attracting Severus's attention as she tucked her wand away. "The baby is growing as expected for this stage, and it still appears to be doing well. Right now, you are a little dehydrated, and I'm worried that you still are not getting the proper nutrition. I understand if you are not up to eating something for now, but I'm serious when I say that I want you to start eating better, without someone telling you to do it." Severus managed to give his eyes a little roll. "In the meantime, I want you to drink lots of fluids to replenish the ones you have already lost."

"How can I? It will just come back up."

"Oh Severus, I highly doubt that. I believe the worst of it might be over for now. I think you can manage a glass or two of water." Poppy solidified her order by actually summoning a glass of water to the bedside table. Severus turned his head in complete disgust, already feeling the slow roll deep inside. He was soon back on his side, head hovering over the bucket. And within minutes of that, he felt fire shoot up his throat. Poppy continued to whisper comforting words to him as he vomited. When he was through, the glass of water was next to his face.

"Rinse and spit, dear." Severus listened to the Mediwitch and washed his mouth out, spitting the water out to mix with his own sick. Poppy banished the mess with a quick flick of her wand. "I won't penalize you if you choose to stay in bed today. I wouldn't want to take the chance if I were in your place. Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"You could give me a potion so I don't have to stay in bed," Severus croaked. "I ran out two days ago."

Poppy's face wrinkled around her eyes. "Severus," she said, obviously uneasy. "How often do you take your Anti-nausea Potions? Every other day?"

"I take them when I need them. I have to function somehow."

"Yes, but do you take them when you feel a little bit nauseous, or only when it's this bad?"

"Whenever I fucking need them," Severus growled out as he gripped the sheets. "I keep a stock in my office so I don't have to suffer through my classes. You try to work when your stomach is rebelling against you, even a little. Please Poppy, I know you have them. Just let me have one so we can both get on with our day."

"But Severus, I can't do that."

The pale-as-parchment, deathly ill wizard looked at Poppy with a gutted, desperate expression. "Why not, you insufferable woman?! I feel like I'm dying here!"

"I know that, but you sound like you use that potion on a fairly regular basis, even when I told you to use it only when it was absolutely necessary. Believe me Severus, I want to help you as much as I possibly can. But my concern is that if you keep that up, your body will build up an immunity. You could have another morning like this, drink the potion, and find that it no longer works. Personally, I am not willing to take a chance on that happening. Your best bet is to ride this one out, give your system a break. I suggest that you start trying other remedies as an alternative. A few crackers before rising could be helpful on more moderate days."

Severus rolled onto his back, clenching his eyes shut as though to say something along the lines of You-stupid-old-broad. Settling into the mattress, he tried to calmly breathe away the gut-twisting pain with not much success. Feeling terribly sympathetic, Poppy rested a gentle hand on his abdomen, rubbing in comforting circles. Severus, to her surprise, made no move to stop her. "I know, dear. I know it's dreadful. But really, this is a good thing. This is your body doing as it should. Your hormones are working hard to sustain your pregnancy."

"While making me feel like complete shit," moaned Severus. "Poppy, I am so tired of this."

"It will get better, Severus. The morning sickness will let up eventually. At best, you will only have to deal with this for a few more weeks."

"And what happens after that? You said it yourself that there will be other things to watch out for."

Poppy looked to the ceiling with a sigh. "Oh Severus, don't mind that. You shouldn't focus too much on that anyway. You have a baby to think about."

"Sorry to break your heart, but I don't want to think about that. I don't even feel pregnant in the slightest. It just feels like I've got a bad case of the flu. What the hell am I talking about? I'm not supposed to feel pregnant!" Severus brought his hand up to massage his temple.

"That will change soon enough," said Poppy. "Just you wait until you start showing. I bet it will feel all the more real then."

"Poppy, don't!" Severus barked sharply. He quickly wiped away what remained of those degrading tears and let his arm rest beside him.

Poppy now could not tell if this was illness or emotional distress. As stubborn and maddening as Severus could be at times, she couldn't help but look at him now and see the boy he once was. She was reminded of that night many years ago, the night she had to deliver a Calming Draught to a very frightened lad who had been pulled from the grips of a werewolf. But he was so young then. If anything scared Severus now, he had too much pride inside to let it show. 'Poor thing, he must be terrified.'

She leaned forward and touched Severus's pale cheek. He opened his disturbingly hollow eyes to look at her. "How about this? If you are not feeling better by tonight, you can have your potion. Would you like that?" Severus merely nodded, providing Poppy with a little comfort. She ended up sitting there with him until he fell into an uneasy sleep.

~HP~

Severus would wake repeatedly throughout the morning, mostly to vomit into the charmed bucket beside the bed. Nothing in his being could have persuaded him to challenge Poppy's request that he stay in bed. He wouldn't rather be anywhere else at the moment. He was terribly ill, but at least he was terribly ill in the comfort of his own rooms.

He did not see much of anyone after Poppy left. He had half-expected that he would have to deal with an onslaught of company. Poppy must have passed on the message that he was not feeling well at all, and that it was best that he be left alone. Minerva did pop in for a short visit, but only to check that he was not letting himself get more dehydrated, which he was not. She also managed to scrape together three bottles of Nourishment Draught, a little potion that acted as a meal supplement for the ailing or those battling an eating disorder. She assured Severus that he should drink them only when he felt up to it.

Just one of those bottles lay empty when the clock in the sitting room chimed noon. Six hours in, and Severus felt no better. This could not be normal, he thought to himself. He should have been able to get up two hours ago. But still, what could he do? There was still a long stretch of time before he could have the relief he so desperately wanted. He had long surrendered to lying on his side and waiting for the next wave of nausea to pass. And he was doing exactly that when the handle on the bedroom door creaked open. Dumbledore stepped in, barely making a sound as he walked across the floor.

"What do you want, Headma…Albus?" said Severus in a gutted groan.

"I wanted to see how you were coping. Poppy told me that you were in a pretty bad way this morning." The old wizard stopped to take in the sight of the younger one, still in his nightclothes, lying in bed, curled in a rigid, angled ball. He felt his chest twist with compassion. Poppy wasn't kidding! "I suppose I don't have to ask how you are feeling." Severus sneered, albeit weakly. He rested his head down onto his pillow. Albus looked down and noticed the bucket. "Oh goodness, you're not still getting sick, are you?"

"It comes and goes, but I still feel horrible." As if on perfect cue, Severus was hit by a particularly nasty wave. Instinctively, he pushed himself forward over the edge. "Oh…oh god!" he hissed through his teeth. Albus supported him with a firm hand on his shoulder, and they rode it out together. Severus collapsed back down and sighed, thankful to be spared of any retching in front of the headmaster.

"I'm sure you've heard enough of this," said Albus. "But it'll be alright. You'll be back on your feet before you know it."

"That's what I thought hours ago," growled Severus. "Albus, I can't take it anymore. I am sick and tired of being sick and tired."

"I know, Severus –,"

"No, you don't!" Severus snapped at the wizard trying to comfort him. "You don't know what it's like to wake up every day and feel worse than you ever have in your life. You don't know what it's like to have your emotions hanging by a thread, to be smothered by everyone around you and not being able to stop it. And you certainly don't know what it's like to know it's all because of a little speck feeding off you. Albus, you don't know what it's like to be pregnant, so don't talk to me like you do!"

Albus sighed. "You're right, I don't know. But Severus, I'm just trying to help you. You know that, right?" Severus pretended to ignore the older wizard, staring at the not-too-distant wall. "Anyway, you just have to remember that this is a good sign. As rough as it seems now, this is a normal and relatively treatable part of having a baby. If anything, remember that the child is doing just fine."

"Of course the child is doing just fine. Probably doesn't even look human yet, and already it's causing trouble. Albus, why would anyone actually want to put themselves through this? I've been beaten, bruised, scarred, hexed, and cursed a million times over. And yet I look back on that and still think that this has been worse. The Dark Lord's work only lasted a few hours if I was lucky. I'm stuck suffering like this for nearly the whole school year."

"Oh dear boy, it's not suffering. Once you hold that baby in your arms, you'll forget all about this illness and fatigue and –,"

"Albus, you don't understand!" exclaimed Severus, abruptly sitting up in bed. He stared passed Albus's glasses, straight into his bright blue eyes. "I don't want this. I don't want to spend the next year in agony for an unplanned child that I'm not even sure that I want."

"Severus –,"

"It wasn't supposed to be like this! I was never supposed to end up like this; bloody fucking raped and knocked up by it."

"Severus!" Albus raised his voice as he planted his hands on Severus's shoulders. "It was not your fault, no matter what you think. You couldn't have prevented this pregnancy if you knew it was possible in the first place."

"It's more than just that," said Severus, his deep eyes slowly welling up. "I accepted that I was never going to have the family I wanted. The last few years really made that clear. But I never would have sunk to this level, carrying a child myself. It's just not natural! I cannot accept a child that came from something so perverted and miserable. I don't want everything to come to a screeching halt because of this child."

"Tell me the truth," said Albus. "Are you afraid that the child will remind you of how it was conceived?" Severus reluctantly nodded, one tear escaping his now closed eye. Albus felt a knot in both his chest and his throat. Wherever this was going, it could not be good. "Are you saying that you don't want to keep this child after all?"

"I don't know," Severus croaked, his voice constricted by his distress. "I wish to God that I did. I know I told you I wouldn't abort it, but it feels like all the walls are closing in on me. You have no idea what I have to do to stay calm in front of the kids. It's too much, Albus."

"I understand, Severus. Anyone in your position would be overwhelmed. But you're only two months gone. No one is asking you to make a decision right this instant. You have a lot of time to think things over, make the necessary changes. Having a child is a massive undertaking, but it's one a lot of people have done before. You could do it just as well…but if it's your decision to give the child up for adoption, then that's your choice. Let me just say one thing."

"What?" asked Severus.

"I don't believe that your pregnancy was as unplanned as you think. I don't choose to see it as a completely random act of magic that chance and unfortunate circumstances produced."

Severus listened impatiently, and his aching gut had very little to do with that. "Then what is it to you?"

Albus folded his hands and relaxed them into his lap. He looked at Severus with a brightly optimistic glance. "This is your chance at happiness, my boy. Obviously, someone up there is looking out for you, thought you deserved better than a life on your own. This is your chance to have the family you should have had long ago."

"Call me mad, Albus, but I always had the thought that a wife would be involved somewhere along the way," said Severus. "Given my career, my reputation, and now my condition, I doubt that's ever going to happen."

"Life has a funny way of sneaking up on you." Albus spoke softly with a smile. "But even if a romantic life isn't in the cards for you, you will still have a son or daughter who will love you unconditionally. I think you will end up content with your life in the end."

Severus sighed as he hunched over, propping himself up with his elbows on his thighs. His head was starting to ache from the onslaught of thoughts and conflict at war in his mind. He knew that Albus meant well, and he knew that the old man wanted to see him happy one day. But he couldn't make his decisions any easier if he thought it possible. Severus felt utterly trapped, and Albus could not provide him with a way out. "I wish I knew what to tell you, Albus. There are just so many things preventing me from seeing any gain in this mess. I can't help but wonder if giving the child up is the best thing to do."

"It might be, though I doubt that is the case. You've helped to bring up some fine kids, whether you see it or not. Have a little confidence in yourself, son. Fate gave you this child. I like to think that it was for good reason." Albus leaned in closer to Severus's pale face. "Who knows? Maybe Lily put in a good word for you."

"You are meant to live your life out after these dark days. Severus, you have the chance to get everything you wanted. You can finally get what you truly deserve."

For a brief moment, Severus's lasting nausea was replaced by an empty sinking feeling. He suddenly remembered the sight of his late love, her soothing words to him. He remembered her promises, promises that felt so empty, but still so stirring. In those first agonizing days after the Dark Lord's defeat, it was a comforting thought to him. But he had ultimately dismissed it as an extreme hallucination brought on by his near-death experience. Up until recently, it was nothing more than a recurring dream. If it really was her, she couldn't have meant anything like this. No, it couldn't be! Lily would never have wanted anyone to suffer like he was now. She wouldn't have wished it on her worst enemy, perhaps not even on the Dark Lord himself.

"I wouldn't get your hopes up on that one," he said, his tone falling into an exhausted drone. Letting his upper body drop back down onto the bed, Severus pressed a hand to his forehead. He felt Albus carefully rubbing his upper arm and shoulder.

"Get some rest, my boy. We shall miss you at supper. I'll see you in the morning." The headmaster rose to his feet and turned for the door. He didn't know whether to be amused or disheartened when he heard Severus's voice coming. "At this rate, I don't know if I can guarantee that."

~HP~

Another two hours of steady sleep left Severus feeling surprisingly better. The upset in his stomach was still there, but he thought it felt much better than what he had endured for most of the day. He felt well enough to finally get out of bed and dress himself. But regardless, he thought it was best to continue to play it safe and stay in his quarters. He relaxed on his bed for several moments, taking the opportunity to drink his second Nourishment Draught. He couldn't consider solid food now even if he wanted it. He eventually felt brave enough to move to his sitting room, and he spent his afternoon reading on his sofa. Suppertime came and went, and another bottle lay empty on the end table.

Severus soon looked up at the clock and noticed the later hour. It suddenly occurred to him that he had some work left over from the day before, work that had to be done before the next day's classes. He knew that he should still be taking it easy as he still only felt around fifty percent. But he couldn't leave it until the morning. Why try and compensate then when he could do it now while he could function? Against his better judgment, Severus left the safety of his quarters for his classroom.

He quickly came to regret his decision. The longer he was on his feet, crossing the room several times and setting up for the next day's lessons, the worse his stomach felt. He hoped it was just lasting aches and sat down at his desk. Even then, the sickening churning got progressively worse. Severus thought with horror of the possibility that his system was kicking back the potions he drank. It could happen, it just had to happen to him, happen now. He leaned on the aging wood, grasping at his abdomen. Sweat was forming on his temples as his mouth filled with saliva.

"Eh-hem…"

Startled, Severus looked up to the door where the voice came from. Leaning against the doorframe, Rose stood there in a jumper and light jeans. Her red hair was hanging in a neat braid which rested against her collarbone. Her wand was tucked into her belt. The look on her face was cautious; she appeared to be a bit nervous when her professor caught sight of her.

"Beckett…what are you doing here?"

"I still have detention tonight, don't I?" said Rose, sounding as nervous as she looked. Snape's stomach turned, this time out of the stun of that. He completely forgot about her! How could he let himself do something like that? Forgetting to grade a stack of quizzes was one thing; that was excusable. But it was something else entirely to let something like a detention session slip your mind, especially one as routine and drawn out as Rose Beckett's.

"Oh…um…yes, yes you do." Snape said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. Rose stepped forward and said, "That's what I thought. Since no one's seen you today, everyone was telling me to skip out on you. I thought it was a good idea to at least come down and check."

"Sensible," said Snape. He really wasn't in the mood for chit-chat right now, even with her. He repeated to himself over and over again to not let his queasiness trigger his temper. He took deep breaths in an attempt to compose himself. "Have a seat. I'll think of something for you."

Rose pulled up a stool at a front desk and sat down. She waited in silence for Snape to give her a command. But quite a few minutes passed by without even a suggestion. Having gotten so used to manual labor that ranged from the mundane, to the tiring, to the disgusting, it was strange to be just sitting there. Snape, it seemed, was bent on doing everything himself for once. Rose followed him with her eyes. She watched him sorting papers, arranging jars and bottles, summoning brewing tools, a typical Sunday evening for a professor she guessed. But the more Rose stared at Snape, the more she thought she should be doing this all for him. There was no color in his face, pale as liquid parchment. She noticed the glaze of perspiration across his sickly skin. And periodically, he would stop in his tracks and lean against the nearest surface, alternating between hard pants and shallow breaths.

"Professor Snape, are you okay?"

"What?" The Potions master jerked his head in her direction, like he had forgotten she was there again. Rose stood and carefully walked toward him, feeling a building tension in her chest. "Sir, you look horrible. Are you feeling alright?"

Snape thought to lie to her to calm her nerves, but a charade like that would be pointless. He knew he looked like death, and felt every bit of it. But he still didn't want to have Rose worrying about him when she really didn't have to. "I'm fi…" He was stopped when the room seemed to start spinning. He gripped the counter, feeling the cold sweat coming on. "No…I'm not."

"You're not?" asked Rose, coming closer. "Talk to me, sir. What's going on?"

"I have been ill the whole day. I thought I was alright. Don't mind me, I can manage." He looked up at Rose and suddenly saw her form double before him. The student came back into view as a new wave swept over him. "Merlin…I'm going to be sick!" He made a move for the sink.

In a move right out of a DADA practical, Rose grabbed her wand, whipped it at a stool which skidded over to Snape, turned on the sink faucet with another flick, tucked it into her belt again, and then turned her face away. She shielded her eyes with her hand. Her insides twisted with compassion as she listened to Snape's attempts to retch, but she was held back by her boundaries. She wanted to be of more help to the professor she admired so greatly, it just wasn't her place.

The dry heaving slowly and erratically came to a stop. Rose lowered her hand and turned back. Snape eased down onto the stool, still gripping the sink brim. The young witch came up on his left side. "You okay now?" she asked.

"Yes," Snape sighed. He wiped the beads of sweat from his face. "Oh, who am I kidding? I'm in no state to do this."

"I should say not. You should be in bed."

"Honestly, Miss Beckett, I was in bed enough today." The Potions master was clutching his abdomen again, swallowing a gag or two. He shook his head at Rose with a defeated frown. "I'm sorry, but I can't do this tonight. I'll let you have the night off. I suppose you've earned it."

"Are you sure about that?" asked Rose, her worry wringing her fingers.

"Yes, I'm sure. Just get out of here, please."

"Don't you want me to finish setting up for tomorrow's lessons?"

Snape tried not to growl. That was a close enough call; he did not want to be sick in front of a student, much less Rose. He cursed the very persistence that he had been so keen on. "No, I will worry about that tomorrow. Now go! Scram!"

"No!" Rose barked at Snape. He jerked back, startled. But her demeanor did not give off the slightest trace of anger. In fact, the look on her face bore a striking resemblance to Poppy's that morning. She finally rested her gentle hand on his arm. "I know you won't admit it, but you look like you need some help. There must be something I can do for you."

"There is nothing you can do," said Snape. "It's beyond your control."

"C'mon Professor, work with me. Do you have anything you can take?" Rose received a slow head shake. "Well, would you like me to make something for you, an Anti-nausea Potion?"

He wasn't entirely sure if he could wait for a potion. He probably would feel better if he could just throw up. But he remembered what Poppy said. He could have it now if he only had the strength to brew it. And he considered Rose to be totally trustworthy in her brewing. She could brew this potion with her hands tied behind her back. "If it's not too much trouble…"

"It's not," said Rose.

Lightly nudging her to the side, Snape stood and walked over to his desk. He opened one drawer to rummage through his collection of odd papers. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Rose going for a discarded copy of her textbook. Of course she knew it was in there, he thought. "Not that one, Miss Beckett." Snape was met by a puzzled glance from Rose, already well into the pages. He found the delicately written instructions for Poppy and Pomona's safer recipe and held it out to her. "Use this one, it's not much different. You'll find everything you need in my stores."

"Thank you, sir," said Rose. "You know, you don't have to watch me. I'm not going to poison you. Go sit in your office, stay close to the loo. I'll have it for you as soon as possible."

She dashed into Snape's now open office. Already, he could hear the stockroom door opening with a squeak. Heavy tapping, that's when he realized she was up the step ladder. Snape half-expected to see her come out weighed down by ingredients, possibly dropping a jar or two. But it turned out that she made two trips, pushing past him at the door on her second exit.

Though he knew he didn't have to, Snape did indeed watch Rose for a moment from his office door. She was blissfully unaware of this intrusion as she carefully read the directions, prepared the various herbs and other ingredients, and deposited them into an abandoned cauldron. She didn't even appear curious as to why it was not the standard book version she was working on. She simply went about her work. She was doing her part to help him. As appreciative as Severus was, he was also confused.

This would not have happened three or four weeks ago. Rose would not have given up her freedom to brew a potion so he could feel better. The last time he allowed her to go very early, she ran out of there so fast that her cleaning tools could have hung in the air. And as well as they got on now, Severus saw no reason for it to be different. Silently, he ran through every possibility. He knew she regarded him with high respect, she said so herself on numerous occasions. But then again, so did many of the Slytherins. Where were they now? There had to be more to it than that. Maybe she thought she owed him something for some reason. Maybe it was for playing therapist a few times, maybe it was something else.

Severus pored over his memories of her in past years, searching for something that would stick out in both their minds. There wasn't much to choose from, Rose had always been so anonymous to him when she was younger. It wasn't the flaming hair mishap; she was more humiliated than relieved after he put her out. But he had to have done something else for her besides give her those well-deserved good grades.

Suddenly, his rapid thoughts came to a halt. There was that one night three years before…

~Flashback~

Dolores Umbridge really was a psychotic bitch. Severus knew this before anyone else had the misfortune to find out. And right from the word go, Severus had a gut feeling that the short, stocky woman was worthy of his deepest loathing. It didn't have much to do with the fact that she had stolen the DADA position from him; if he believed anything that the Slytherins were giggling about, he was already far superior than she could ever hope to be. His teaching could make the little cat-loving cur's head spin. He had nothing to worry about with that. In truth, Snape hated Umbridge just for being so barking mad. In his eyes, she was encroaching on his territory. It had taken Severus fourteen years to build up his reputation as the school's most hated professor. Umbridge had only been in the school for fourteen minutes and had been able to achieve the same with him. And within fourteen days of that, the entire Hogwarts population caught up. The fact that he was seen as relatively tolerable now was enough to make Severus teeth-gnashing angry. Really, who did she think she was? And the interrogating! Ah, the interrogating! And why the woman saw the need to wear more pink than most had seen in their lives was just beyond Severus's comprehension.

All Severus could really do was to do whatever he could to stay in Umbridge's favor. The last thing he needed was to be sacked, Dark Lord or no Dark Lord. He also had to do his best to maintain his cruel disciplines. After all, he had reduced some of these children to tears. She hadn't been able to do that yet, had she? Making teenagers angry was one thing, but humiliating them in that way was a completely different thing. He couldn't soften up. He couldn't let himself feel sorry for a student, no matter what. Therefore, he could not allow his menacing ways to falter.

It was just that that led him to a startling discovery.

It was ten o'clock at night in early October. Severus stalked through the dark corridors of the dungeons, on the prowl for students out of bed. For once, the castle was strangely quiet. So quiet, it was actually a bit eerie. But at least there was no trouble in his sights. It seemed that even Potter had better, more sensible things to do. Severus found himself deciding that it was a better idea to just give up the search for nothing and take an early night. Images of a bottle of scotch and a good book in front of the fire flashing through his mind, he turned in the direction of his quarters.

Just then, Severus heard a noise. His eyebrow arching, he turned around to listen. It was as soft as it was sudden, but it was there all the same. It was the sound of sniffling followed by a quiet sobbing. Someone was crying. Severus could easily tell that it was a female voice. It didn't sound too young and childish, but it didn't quite have the mature sobbing of a grown woman. Severus concluded that it had to be a fourth or fifth year student. And judging from the echo, she was somewhere down in the dungeons. Seeing that it could be one of his Slytherins, Severus decided to investigate. He turned his lit wand back down the black void.

Severus began to retrace his steps through every dark, dank hall below the castle, following the sniveling voice. With every step, he could hear himself getting closer. And in time, Severus finally came to discover that the voice was just around the corner from where he now stood. Very slowly he came around, pointing his wand ahead of him. At first, he saw nothing. But then he looked down.

Rose Beckett, then a Fifth year, was sitting on the floor. Even in the darkness, her eyes were quite visibly red and tears still ran down her pale face. She was clutching her left hand in her right, her knuckles white. She looked up at the offending light and coward when she saw just who the wielder of the wand was. "Professor Snape!" she squeaked, rather uncharacteristically for her.

"Miss Beckett, what are you doing down here at this hour?" Severus was actually rather curious about the appearance of this particularly random Gryffindor.

"I…I…um…uh…I…" she stammered, obviously shaken.

"Out with it, Beckett."

"I was on my way back up to my common room, but the staircase changed on me. From where I ended up, the only way back was to go around." Severus shook his head to himself. That was a pathetic excuse if he ever heard one. Rose continued. "I'm sorry, sir. I'll just go" She tried to stand. But when she eased up on the pressure she kept on her hand, she fell back down hissing in pain. It was then that Snape saw the blood running down her hand.

"What happened to your hand?"

"Nothing sir," Rose was quick to answer the question.

"You are bleeding, that is nothing?"

"I cut my hand on some broken glass. It was an accident, I can handle it. I'm sorry, I'm leaving. Please don't give me detention." Rose tried to stand again.

Snape stepped forward, shoving his wand in her face. "Stay there," he said. As Rose eased back down onto the ground, Severus got down on his knees and set his wand down on the floor beside him. Not exactly caring for the girl's personal space, Severus gently pried her right hand away from her wounded left. He was dumbfounded by what he saw. It was not the jagged gash of an accidental injury. It was small words etched deep into pale flesh, as though hand written, that read 'I must not start fights.' The words were still oozing blood. If Snape didn't know any better, he would say that Rose had done this to herself. There was just one thing; he had heard that cutters usually didn't cry.

"This was an accident?" Snape dared her to answer, though Rose seemed to be paralyzed by his touch. She probably wanted to run all the way back to London now. She slowly nodded, but Snape was not convinced. "Then why have you not gone up to the Infirmary?"

"I told you, Professor, I can handle it myself."

Snape let go and stood, picking up his wand. He knew that Rose didn't have much intention of going into Healing, and he certainly knew that this was beyond the first aid skills of the average fifteen year-old. Not even Snape himself knew what possessed him to do what he was about to. "Keep pressure on it," he said in a low voice. "Come with me." He looked down on the puzzled girl before he turned to walk away. He picked up speed only when he heard a second set of footsteps behind him. Not once did Severus turn to look back at the scared, injured student. He reached the door to his office and stopped to let Rose catch up. Then he led her inside.

Rose was cautious as the door was shut behind her. Snape motioned for her to sit down in the chair before his desk. Once she had done what he had asked of her, Snape walked over to a set of drawers on one wall of the room. The Potions master could feel his student's light eyes watching him as he easily found what he was looking for. He returned to his desk with two small potion bottles, a small towel, gauze, and a roll of bandages. He glared at Rose as he sat down and laid the towel out on the desktop.

"Give me your hand," he demanded, but Rose just held her hand tighter as she shook her head, wide-eyed. Snape rolled his eyes. "I'm not going to harm you, Miss Beckett. Now give me your hand." He noticed Rose swallow hard as she held out her shaking, bloody hand. He took it in his own as he uncorked the bottle of Sterilizing Solution.

"I trust you know that this will hurt," he said as Rose nodded. He then tipped the bottle over to let the cold liquid pour over the carved out sentence. Rose cried out through clenched teeth and clamped eyes as the burn of the potion shot through her entire hand, sending fresh tears down her face. The white towel on the table was stained pink and pale red. Severus watched as she gripped the arm of her chair with her free bloodstained hand. Once he had cleaned out the wound and dabbed away what remained of the acidic brew, Severus opened up the second bottle, a small supply of Essence of Dittany. He had to get those words to start closing up. He soaked a bit of gauze in the dark, cloudy mixture before beginning to slowly rub it over Rose's hand.

"Professor," said Rose, wiping her eyes dry with the sleeve of her robe. "Why are you doing this?"

"It's rather simple, Miss Beckett," Severus said with a calm tone. "I couldn't possibly believe that you were capable of handling this yourself."

"You underestimate my abilities, Professor."

Severus glared at her. "Is that so? You, like too many Gryffindors before you, are too proud for your own good. Hmm…could be why you refused to see Madam Pomfrey."

"I would have gone to her if it got infected."

"Why wait until then? Unless it has something to do with how you managed to obtain this peculiar injury." Rose opened her mouth, but quickly closed it again. It seemed to Severus that her answer wasn't good enough and she knew it. He sneered as he turned his attention back to her hand. "You cannot possibly think that I'm going to ignore that. I have seen many things in my day, but a statement carved into someone's hand was never one of them. Curious…very curious indeed."

Rose's expression got surprisingly defensive amidst her fretfulness. "Are you saying that you think I did this to myself?" she said in a low, tense voice. "And on purpose?"

"It would make more sense than it being an accident," said Snape. "Miss Beckett, these wounds are very deep. If you did not cut out the words, then who did?"

"Um…no one," The reply was quick, like Rose hadn't put much thought into it. Snape raised his black brow. "Oh, so then you did do this –,"

"No!" Rose shouted. "It wasn't me. I swear on my life, sir." She tried to pull her hand back, but Snape held on tightly without very much effort. He continued rubbing the gauze over the slowly healing sentence, now with a bit more force.

"Then tell me who is responsible for this," he said, letting aggravation seep into his tone. "If another inflicted such harm on you, then it would seem appropriate that they face the consequences."

Rose shrank back as far as she could, trying to sink back into her chair. Snape looked into her eyes and there was the fear again. No questions asked, someone or something was making her withhold the truth. But if it wasn't him, then who? "Miss Beckett, get over yourself and tell me. Who are you trying to protect?"

"It isn't that, Professor," said Rose. "I…I just can't tell you…it's a delicate situation."

Snape cocked his eyebrow at her, reaching for the roll of white dressings. "A delicate situation? Is that all you can come up with?"

"I thought you would say that. Well believe me or not, it's true. I'm sorry Professor, but I can take care of this myself. You don't have to go and get involved, because that would make things worse."

By this point, Severus was wondering if one of his Slytherins had something to do with this. He did find her in their territory after all, and her wounds were still fresh. While he encouraged the rivalry between houses, he would not allow them to sink to the level of permanently scarring others. And if they had, had they done it to others as well? He remembered something all of a sudden. Potter had been walking around with a bandaged left hand recently. And so had that Sixth year boy from Hufflepuff, and that couple of Fourth year Ravenclaws. Snape tried to find some connection between the five of them. Not all of them had known troubles with other students, yet they all ended up with bloodied dressings. Potter had also stayed out of his hair lately. He was more Umbridge's problem lately, serving pointless detentions for so-called lies…wait. Potter's bandages appeared not long after. The same thing happened with those other three students. Severus felt stunned when he remembered Umbridge mentioning something about Rose's "barbaric behavior" towards Pansy Parkinson earlier that afternoon.

No…

Snape carefully tore off a length of the bandages and started wrapping it around Rose's injured hand. He decided not to pressure her for answers. If he was right, then it really was a delicate situation. "If you are going to be stubborn and hold your tongue, then I suppose that is your choice. But when Professor McGonagall corners you tomorrow, don't tell her that I did nothing." He tied it off and let Rose pull her hand back against her chest. "Make sure that you change those dressings every few hours. Keep applying Dittany if you don't want any obvious scarring."

Rose was quiet as she waited for Snape to write out a note for her, to prevent further trouble for being out past curfew. She was just as quiet as she took it and made a move for the door. But before she left, she glanced back at the Potions master at his desk. Thanks were just on the tip of her tongue, but for whatever reason, she could not do it. She left him alone without a word.

~End Flashback~

It was doubtful that Rose would have forgotten something like that. It was a simple act of pity that she thought could never happen at the time. She most likely wasn't too pleased with herself after he told Minerva their little story, thus opening the floodgates to Ministry domination at Hogwarts. But it was evident in her mannerisms in the following months that she did appreciate what he did. She could not thank him with words, so there had to be another way to express that gratitude. Perhaps she had been trying to find some way to repay him for years.

Severus had taken to sitting at his office wingchair, listening to Rose work from the other room. He tried to distract himself by reading with some moderate success. Shifty black eyes kept glancing at the clock, ticking obnoxiously with every second. An hour and a half after she arrived, Rose came into his office. She blew on the steaming goblet she carried delicately in her hands.

"Here you are, sir," she said. "It's a little hot, but I didn't want to make you wait."

Snape accepted the goblet with his thanks. At first, he found himself questioning how she managed the changes to the brewing. A quick look at the liquid and a whiff of the fumes suggested that she had done nothing wrong. Relieved, Snape tipped back a good amount of the potion in one sip. He noticed that Rose was still standing in the middle of the room.

"There was quite a lot left over, so I put aside some extra doses for you to keep should you need them. Everything is already cleaned up, don't worry about anything."

"You really didn't have to do that," said Snape.

"It's okay, I wanted to." Rose stepped over to the second chair and sat down on the very edge of the cushion. She bent over to lean her elbows on her knees. "It was the least I could do."

"But why? What did I do for you to deserve this favor?"

"Who said anything about that? Do all Slytherins think you have to do something to get something in return? Professor, you've done a lot for all of us. But I did this because I wanted to do something nice. I've caused you enough stress this term. Besides, I doubt you could have brewed that on your own in your condition."

The dreaded c-word failed to catch Snape's attention. He hardly knew what to say to Rose, especially when he saw such raw honesty in her face. She wasn't playing with him, she meant it. And she obviously cared for his wellbeing if she was still there to be sure he drank the whole dose. "Yes…um…thank you, Miss Beckett. That was all very considerate." Uncomfortable, he let his gaze wander from her face down to her left hand. "So those scars that Umbridge left you with have healed up nicely."

"Oh yeah," said Rose, glancing down at her hand where the words were now barely visible. "I kept using Dittany, just like you said. It sure worked; my mum didn't notice them until I pointed them out to her." She glanced around the room, toward the desk. "You know I don't think I've ever said this, but I appreciate what you did that night. It was very kind of you."

Snape's lips tugged into a small smile. It felt surprisingly wonderful to finally get that thank-you after three years. "You didn't think you could ever say that, did you?"

"Not out loud, but times change, I guess. I'm sorry I never told you that to your face. Awfully rude of me…now that you mention it, maybe I did owe you a favor after all." Rose giggled to herself, with Snape quietly laughing in the background. She looked back to him with a warm smile.

"You really are a good kid," Snape said after downing the last drops of potion. "Forgive me for telling you something I'm sure you have heard a thousand times."

"Don't be silly," said Rose. Her bright eyes fell to the floor before she brought them up rather sheepishly. "Do you really mean that?"

The Potions master felt an odd shiver at her inquiry. Warmth spread through his body as the potion took its effect. "I do. I do not know many young people who would put themselves in your current place, and by their own choice. If I'm honest, I do not know many people who would show me that level of compassion."

"Aw, Professor," Rose blushed hard and stood to look down at him. "Don't degrade yourself like that, it surely isn't true. And you should know that I save my compassion only for those who deserve it."

The peculiar feeling in Snape's chest moved down into his stomach. But for once, he had no fear of being sick. Severus had enough kindness in his life to keep him just about content, especially these days. But why did it have to feel so strange here? He knew Rose by now, such kindness should not come as a surprise. Yet here he was, still taken by her little gestures. He could feel the color creeping into the paled skin of his cheeks. Rose didn't seem to mind as she bent over to get closer.

"I'm going to go scrub my cauldron, then I'm going to go." she said. "I really hope you feel better, sir. If there's anything else you need –,"

"That's alright, Miss Beckett. You have already done more than I could ask for. Don't act as though you owe me a life-debt."

"Don't blame me, I can't help myself." Rose giggled again, coaxing a smirk out of her tired professor. Casually, she made her way over to the door. "See you in class tomorrow." And like that, with a smile and a flash of red hair, she was gone. Touched, Severus listened and waited for Rose to finish cleaning up after herself, and he did not rise from his chair until she had left for the night. Passing through his classroom before heading back to his quarters, Severus noticed how Rose left his ingredients neatly lined up on his desk. She knew better than to try and put things away without his precise instructions. Severus saw this and realized that if she had gotten the green light from him, she probably would have offered her total servitude that night.

There were people who would do anything they could to help him. But Severus went to bed that night feeling more cared for than he had in weeks.

~HP~

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