BOOK 2: CHAPTER 12

"Let me see your wrists," Severus said evenly, as she was getting ready for bed that night.

Backing up a step or two, she crossed her arms, already starting to feel the warmth and strength trickle from her body. Like water, or blood. Yes, more like blood. Blood that ran down…

"Amelia…" his voice echoed through.

"Yes?" she asked, unevenly.

"Let me see your wrists."

"Why?"

"Because I want to see them."

Very reluctantly, she held them out and he looked them over. She usually wore long-sleeved blouses, but tonight, her arms were bare – and the scars were there - deep and horrible.

"We never could get rid of these," he said quietly.

"Well, you know how I'm a bit resistant to some of the spells around here," Amelia said, scrambling for any words she could remember.

"Chicken wire did not do this," he said darkly.

Blinking, she backed up a step and knocked the side of the vanity, accidentally overturning a bottle of perfume.

Her breathing came in more ragged, uneven rasps – and her mouth went dry and cottony.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Obviously. But I do. So we will."

She took a deep breath, sat down on the side of the bed, and tried not to pass out.

"Why did you keep this from me?"

Horrible nausea began to wash over her, from head to toe, and she battled it back as best she could.

"I told you about my taking poison. Why the hell couldn't you tell me the truth about your wrists?"

"I…don't know what you're talking about," she attempted, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I…was repairing a fence, and…"

"My dear…" but his voice died.

"Yes?" she asked desperately. "Yes?"

Her eyes had filled with pain and confusion and all she could do was stare at him, and wait.

"Amelia…"

But she could only stare hopelessly.

"You truly don't remember?" His voice was instantly gentle, and his eyes burned into hers.

"Why would you say these things to me?" she whispered.

"Because…I love you, and I don't want it to happen again. I know what happened, Amelia. I forced your aunt to tell me."

She blinked tiredly and slumped down on a chair. He knelt down in front of her.

"Sometimes, I…have nightmares about a bathroom, and a razor…but I don't remember anything except cutting them on fencing."

"Fencing?"

"And being strapped to a stretcher – and the Novocain shots hurting. It hurts when they stick your wrists, Severus. There isn't much fatty tissue there – and it hurt so badly…"

He paused. Her eyes were so filled with pain and confusion – it was unbearable to look further

"All right," he said softly, taking her into his arms. "Let's get some tea."

--

Slumped at one end of the endless, deserted faculty table, sipping the strong tea he'd brewed, Amelia felt a little warmth seeping back.

Wearily, she leaned her head against his shoulder, hoping what he said wasn't true, but knowing that it somehow made horrible sense.

"I'm certainly glad you didn't bleed to death," he said dryly, lighting the third cigarette.

"I wouldn't be so glad," she said blackly.

He leaned forward. "What the devil do you mean?"

"You've known me a little over a year, and I've turned your life upside down."

He smashed out the cigarette and leaned forward. "This place is always upside down. You've given me the only happiness I've ever felt. Ever."

She blinked away more tears that were fighting to the surface. He reached for her hand and clasped it in his.

"Everyone here loves you. You've given this dreary place a little life. A little warmth."

"A little chaos, you mean."

He merely shrugged. "So what? This place is always in turmoil. If it weren't over you, it would be over something else."

"I should go into the desert."

"Nonsense. If anyone should go, it's Potter. Look at the maelstrom he and his cohorts stir up. Let Potter go."

Weakly, she laughed and leaned against him. He smiled gently and took a thoughtful puff.

"I'm just begging you, my dear, don't ever do anything again. Next time, it might be just before you discovered another baby was on the way – or the day before Severus Jr. took a step, or…"

She sighed. "Or just sitting here with you. Or kissing you. I don't want to leave you. That's reason enough."

He sighed and kissed her hand. She began to calm down, and she actually managed a smile.

"I don't know why I can only think of chicken wire. We didn't have chickens. We didn't have a fence made of chicken wire. We didn't even have a garden with chicken wire."

"Perhaps it's just as well you can't remember."

"Do you remember the night you tried, Severus?" she asked gently.

"Flashes and shadows. The taste. Albus' face. For months and months afterwards, I hated Albus. He watched me; he removed certain ingredients from the potions closets. But, worst of all, he made me live, everyday, with feelings I couldn't bear."

"When did you start to like him again?"

"Bit by bit, over time. And now, I'll be grateful to him for the rest of my life."

"Really?"

"Yes. It's ridiculous. Horror and death and blackness and suicide – and a day later, all it takes is a woman with pretty eyes and a penchant for tripping on staircases to make you change your mind."

She blushed. "An evil wizard, with a wonderful face and an incredible voice, can have the same effect."

He took her hands in his, turned them over and kissed both of her wrists. They felt warm and wonderful. In just a few seconds, the scars had faded.