Phoebe hasn't yet got all the pieces, will she finally put together the puzzle that is Severus Snape? And what of Phoebe...?
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Chapter 25 - Identity
It had been heartbreaking to see Severus so distraught. Phoebe deduced that he must have been forced to go against almost every grain of his being to be reduced to such a state. He most probably had sacrificed who he was in order to operate amongst the Dark side. She felt for him, wishing desperately that she could spare him from this torment… and from having to go back. This perhaps hurt Phoebe more than anything else, knowing that she would have to send Severus back there in mere hours, back to a place that seemed so dark, so corrupt and evil that it was almost beyond her comprehension. And she could do nothing about it. She felt a strong urge to protect him; but what could she do, just pick up the pieces of his devastated conscience when he came to her?
They lay together on the couch when Severus had calmed enough for Phoebe to release him a little from her embrace. His blank, numb expression was evidence of his exhaustion and Phoebe saw that he desperately needed to sleep. She stroked her thumb softly across his face, along his cheekbone and over his eyes, encouraging him to close them. She could not send him back to the Dark side like this, he was fragile, brittle even. In silence she did her best to soothe him, perhaps after he had rested, he would regain some of his usual strength.
He slept against her body, Phoebe watching over him protectively, not wanting to leave him just now, not when he so obviously needed her support.
After a time (it felt like well over an hour), Phoebe once again began to feel uncomfortable lying so still on her back, the weight of the baby pressing on her artery, causing her to feel a little light headed, and her breathing somewhat uncomfortably shallow. Gently she manoeuvred herself out from under his body, replacing her shoulder with a cushion. The man stirred a little, but thankfully he did not wake.
He looked comfortable and relaxed, and Phoebe thought she could watch him sleep like this forever. When she finally felt satisfied that he did not need her fussing over him, she decided she ought to take the time to shower and dress instead.
Most of her nausea had disappeared, though Phoebe did notice she still felt a little queasy, and she did have a bit of a headache developing. Nothing she couldn't put up with though.
'Thank goodness the Quellin was still somewhat effective,' she thought, as the hot water began to pour down on her in the shower. It helped her to relax a bit, until now she hadn't realised how anxious she had been. She closed her eyes, leaning against the shower wall, enjoying the massaging effect of the firm jet of water. Her thoughts eventually turned to the father of her unborn child.
'He had been injured last night,' she thought, remembering cleaning the blood from his face not long after he had arrived, feeling thankful that he was alright now. He told her he had been healed, but Phoebe now understood that the injury had been the least of his concerns.
She wondered briefly what he had been forced to do which had evoked such a powerful emotional response, a reaction even Phoebe recognised was unusual, perhaps even unheard of , from him. But then she quickly decided that she really didn't want to know. Phoebe suddenly furrowed her brow, 'No, that isn't fair… it isn't fair to Severus.' If he'd had to face it, should Phoebe be so squeamish that she refused to simply hear about his torment. A little guiltily, Phoebe remembered it was she who had encouraged this man to go and help Harry Potter, to follow Dumbledore's plan, to fight to end all this, and now here she was practically judging him for the things he had to do for the cause. 'No, that definitely is not fair!'
She thought maybe she should encourage him to talk to her, share the burden. But how was she to get the man to talk? That would be her next problem, he was always so guarded about what he has experienced, everything he has endured, that she doubted he would be an open book now.
It was kind of sweet that he was trying to protect her from the harsh realities, it proved that he cared, even though he never said it. But it was enough that she knew, Phoebe could not expect more from him at this stage, he had enough on his plate. She smiled expectantly at this thought. How passionate could Severus be if he was not otherwise occupied? This was certainly one experience with him she would anticipate to be completely breathtaking. She had sensed his potential for great passion and devotion when she had first met him, that combined with his confidence and strength was what had attracted her to him in the first place, she recalled with fondness. 'And the fact that he is a tall, dark wizard doesn't hurt,' she thought, chuckling to herself.
Phoebe turned off the water, dried herself, wrapped the dressing gown around her and made her way into her bedroom to dress. She sifted through her clothes and quickly chose something to wear. The choice was made easier now, ever since Severus had fixed her problem a few weeks ago. As she pulled on a pair of jeans, she was amazed how they fit so perfectly day after day, despite her growing midriff.
Severus had performed a self adjusting spell on all of her clothing before he had left last time, and he had given her an almost cheeky smirk as he selected the burgundy robes from the wardrobe and repeated the incantation on them. She remembered holding him that day, feeling completely in love and yet extremely fearful at the same time. It seemed so strange to Phoebe that a person was able to feel those very different emotions simultaneously.
Once dressed, she went back out to the kitchen to get something from the House-elf to eat, she was beginning to become quite peckish as she hadn't eaten all morning and it was now past midday. Maybe her blood sugar was low and this is why she had a headache (which seemed to be getting a bit worse, she noticed).
The man didn't appear to have moved at all, Phoebe shook her head slowly, appalled at how exhausted Severus must have been. Munching on some toast, she took the Potions text off the coffee table once again and sat down (a little ungracefully) on the floor in front of the couch next to the sleeping man, with the intention of continuing to read where she left off the previous day.
As she opened the cover she noticed for the first time written in the same handwriting as the other notations throughout all the books, 'Property of The Half-Blood Prince'. It seemed odd to Phoebe, she had assumed the handwriting was Severus', but Phoebe knew he was a pure-blood wizard. She briefly wondered to herself who the books had belonged to, but soon she forgot all about it, turning to the page she had marked with a folded piece of paper.
The toast long gone, and several pages later, Phoebe rubbed her forehead, her eyes were tired and aching, which wasn't helping her headache any - she really needed to sleep some more too, she decided. She looked up to see the man's almost black eyes watching her.
"You're awake," she said quietly, smiling gently at him.
"Yes," he responded, raising himself onto one elbow and supporting his head on his hand.
"How do you feel?" Phoebe asked with concern.
"Much more rested," he replied.
"Good, I'm glad," Phoebe said, snapping the book shut and inching closer to the couch on her knees.
Severus held his hand out to assist her, which she took gratefully, her advancing pregnancy was beginning to slow her down and moving around was sometimes a little awkward. He pulled her close to him, then lifting his head from his other hand, he reached out and gently raked his fingers through her hair on the side of her head. He leaned forward to kiss her lips.
Phoebe allowed herself to be drawn close, and enjoyed the tender kiss. When he pulled away, she grinned at him.
"You're definitely feeling much better, aren't you?" she teased.
Snorting a little in amusement, a mischievous glint in his eye, he kissed her again more passionately. But Phoebe noticed his heart wasn't really in it, and he eventually settled for just holding her close. With her head still aching Phoebe wasn't really in the mood either.
After a while he released her from his embrace and gently took the Potions text from her grasp.
"Ravenclaw, as I said before," he muttered.
"No, I don't think so," she contradicted, with a grin, noting the puzzled look on his face. "Actually I think I would have more likely been in Hufflepuff."
He snorted in amusement once more, "You have read Hogwarts a History, then," he stated, with a tiny encouraging nod of acknowledgment. "Hufflepuff indeed," he then mumbled scornfully, a small sneer occupying his features, reaching to place the book on the small table and sitting upright.
"Yes," Phoebe responded, a little indignantly, "why, do you have a problem with that?" she asked, sitting back on her heels so she could survey his response.
"Well, they are not known for their wit, ambition, bravery nor necessarily their intelligence, I assume you would like to highlight your assets rather than detract from them," he answered, smugly.
"You do not value loyalty?" she countered, still very much indignant, "I rather think that is a trait you would prefer to have highlighted yourself currently... Mr Slytherin."
After another small snort of amusement, "Well, well… we have done our homework, haven't we," Severus responded laconically, although he again acknowledged and encouraged her diligence with a small nod.
"Yes, I have actually," she responded; Phoebe's turn to be smug, "You know, I am rather proud of you," she said, somewhat ambiguously.
"Proud?" Severus questioned, curious of her intention.
"Yes, proud that you no longer hold dear the sentiments practically ingrained in your house. That must have taken a strong character to turn away from what has obviously been impressed upon you since you were eleven years old," she explained.
Severus narrowed his eyes at her, a small frown appearing on his forehead, still apparently uncertain of her meaning.
"You know… all that non pure-blood prejudice, Salazar Slytherin not allowing muggle-born wizards into Slytherin house. I think you would have done well to associate with some, no doubt," Phoebe announced, a bit arrogantly and rather rudely.
"Indeed," Severus responded brusquely, a cold look clouding his already dark eyes.
Noticing his icy response to her comment, Phoebe felt a bit embarrassed, she realised she had no right to judge him in that way. Sometimes she just wished she remembered to engage the filter between her brain and her mouth before she spoke.
"Sorry," she said, reaching to take his hand in her own, "I... I am just being an idiot, I didn't mean to hurt you."
"Accuse me, you mean," he said resentfully, removing his hand from her reach and standing up.
This was all going wrong, she did not want to be responsible for causing Severus more conflict. She felt terrible, silently admonishing herself for being so insensitive.
"No, Severus, I'm not accusing you of anything," she insisted, apologetically.
Severus walked over to the window, keeping his back to her, "You have made assumptions about me. You may have read what I provided you, but you really know nothing… you know nothing of me," he said, abruptly.
Phoebe was taken aback by his tone and attitude, she did not know what to say to the angry man, so chose to say nothing at all, just staring after him in disbelief.
He wheeled around on her when she maintained her silence, his anger and frustration evident, "You know nothing about Me," he snarled, emphasising himself by tapping his closed fist on his own chest.
Shocked at the way he was treating her, she turned her face away from him, away from his glaring eyes filled with anger. Phoebe did not know what else to say or do, but suddenly, as she was staring down at the well worn rug, it dawned on her that she did not deserve to be treated this appallingly. She had indulged Severus and allowed his short temper because he had seemed vulnerable and she knew he was still tired. She'd felt he had warranted her sympathy and patience, however he had now crossed the line.
She looked back up at his angry face, fury now spreading across her own. "Well, why don't you enlighten me then?" she spat out at him. "Tell me what I don't know, Severus, finally tell me about who you really are!" she demanded.
He stared back at her, seething. "Never mind… forget it, you would not understand," he said bluntly, turning his back on her again.
"Is that because I'm a Muggle," Phoebe shot accusingly at him. "What would I know? I do not have the correct genes to comprehend your world - your kind. You know, it's about time you got over yourself, Severus, your pure blood is unimportant in the real world. My blood, and your child's blood for that matter, is fine just the way it is!" she finished, her voice rising with her temper.
After a pause Severus answered, "Do not push me today, Phoebe!" he said warningly, clenching and unclenching his fists by his side.
"Push you!?" she said incredulously, using the couch to lever herself up to stand and face him. "You are so arrogant sometimes, you know. Perhaps Slytherin was right after all - keep all the Muggle-borns away from the perfect pure-bloods, for fear they will be attacked for their blatant conceit!" she announced, with outraged sarcasm, trying to ignore the painful throb in her head.
"I am NOT a pure blood!" Severus suddenly shouted, his tolerance for the false accusations breaking, then he turned and snatched the lamp off the side table, launching it at the wall with force. It smashed into many pieces, Severus still seething in anger, fighting to control his outburst.
Phoebe took a few steps away from him warily, but with shock and confusion she questioned his shouted confession quietly, "You're not pure-blood?"
Severus swallowed, calming slightly, realising the impact of his statement. "No… my father was a Muggle," he said, his tone still brusque.
"Your father? But I don't understand - why the insults, and the prejudice…?" Phoebe responded, trying to comprehend, then as it dawned on her, "You bloody hypocrite!" she accused with a snort, then snatching the Potions text back off the coffee table, she flicked open the cover where the owner had written their name and shoved the book towards him.
"So, this is you?" she snapped. Phoebe then plucked the bookmark from the middle of the book, only just now remembering that it was the note that Severus had sent accompanying the parcel of books. She unfolded it, smoothing it flat, then compared the handwriting. She had been right all along, it was marginally different (the writing in the book appeared to have been written years before, as the ink looked aged), but it definitely was written by the same hand.
With slight surprise, Severus looked from the book to Phoebe, "Yes," he answered bitterly, with a small nod.
"What does it mean?" Phoebe asked, not understanding the title he had used for himself.
"My mother's maiden name was Prince," he explained, concisely.
Phoebe acknowledged her understanding with a nodded sigh. "She was a pure-blood witch?" she queried, and he confirmed her question with a nod, but she still could not understand his attitude.
"Why, Severus? Why do you hate this part of yourself… your Muggle heritage?" Phoebe asked, bewildered.
Severus swallowed again, pausing before he answered, "Because I hated him, I hated my father. Many times he was violent toward my mother. I never understood why she tolerated it - she was a witch she did not have to… yet she did!" he said with a frown of confusion. "For many years she put up with the useless, worthless man," he continued, his explanation steeped in a rare display of emotion.
Phoebe was shocked by his admission. She could see his hurt and her concern grew for the man. "What about you, did he hurt you?" Phoebe asked, almost afraid of the answer she already suspected.
Severus gave her a sharp look, then looked away, his shoulders sagging slightly, "When I was very young," he admitted quietly. "Though he never dared when I became older," he continued defiantly, straightening himself, his contempt for the man evident in his voice.
Phoebe looked at him with compassion, "Severus, I'm sorry," she said. He did not respond. She dropped the Potion book onto the couch and approached him, placing a hand on his arm and the other on his chest, her touch encouraging him to face her.
Relieved, she felt him place his arm around her and pull her close, "It is ancient history," he said, in an attempt to be dismissive, "he is no longer alive, neither of them are, in fact."
"You need to tell me these things about yourself, Severus, so I can understand," Phoebe appealed, looking up at him. "Please, I want to know you, everything about you."
A few moments passed silently, "We aren't all like that, you know, like your father," she assured, clinging to him, feeling suddenly exhausted now herself.
She felt him nod as her head rested against his chest, "I know that now," he responded, softly, "but I was blinded by my hate of my father when I was young - it was a mistake. I regret my behaviour now, I regret being so easily led." Then Phoebe felt him sigh silently, "Not any more - I make my own decisions now," he affirmed, with conviction.
Phoebe smiled, she felt proud of the man, knowing somehow that he was definitely genuine about his remorse. It baffled her to think that others could not see it, then conceded that he was obviously not as open with everyone else as he was with her. 'It was a shame,' she thought, 'everyone would see he was such a remarkable man if they only took the time to get to know him, to gain his trust and trust him in return, like Dumbledore had done.' The Headmaster had accepted Severus, even to the point of caring about him. Phoebe felt thankful that Severus had at least had the respect and support of the Headmaster in his life.
She reached her arms around the dark man's neck and gave him a reassuring hug. Cupping her hand on his cheek, she ran her thumb along his cheekbone, then stretched up on her toes to kiss him tenderly on his lips.
He returned the kiss, deepening it until it was a very passionate exchange. "Phoebe, I am sorry," he finally whispered to her, "It has been... difficult lately, I am not myself," he explained.
"I understand, Severus, I can see this is hard on you. When all this has ended, we can start over, it will be alright, I promise," Phoebe replied, reassuring him, ignoring completely the assumption she just made that there would even be an end, and that Severus would come through it unscathed.
The man sighed gratefully, pulling her close and holding her tight, kissing her firmly on the top of her head. "I have made some progress," he suddenly revealed quietly.
Gasping, Phoebe pushed him away a little and looked up at his face in shock, "What? Oh my God… really?" she asked, hardly daring to breathe, chills suddenly creeping up her back.
He gave her a tiny nod.
Her hands were beginning to tremble, she had wanted Severus to tell her what was happening, to confide in her, but she hadn't really prepared herself mentally or emotionally for details.
"Phoebe… I think you should sit down," Severus suddenly urged her, evaluating her, a worried expression spreading across his face. He gestured for her to sit on the couch but maintained an arm around her for support. "You are shaking… and you look very pale."
She obeyed his request, giving merit to his sudden concern when she took a step toward the couch and started to feel quite faint. She began to feel clammy and a little ill as she also began to experience the same tightness all over she had felt when Tonks was at the cottage with her a number of weeks ago. This time the constriction was so strong it seemed to restrict her breathing, and a rushing of blood in her ears worsened the headache she had been suffering for the past couple of hours. Frowning and groaning at her discomfort, she rubbed her hand over her tight baby belly to try to soothe the distressing sensation. Her knees suddenly began to buckle beneath her and when she grappled for Severus in an attempt to save herself, she thankfully felt him quickly scoop her up into his arms and carry her safely to the couch, where he kneeled on one knee in front of her.
"Phoebe?" he said, cupping her cheek with one of his hands trying to get her to look directly into his eyes, considerable concern now expressed in his voice. However she barely noticed him, she felt so dizzy and suddenly it seemed as if the room became quite dark, rather too quickly.
"Phoebe!"
She heard Severus' anxious voice echo faintly from afar. 'He's too far away, much too far away,' she thought, starting to panic. She tried to call his name and reach out for him, but the smothering darkness closed in on her completely… and she knew no more.