He paced. He sat. He stared. He waited impatiently. He made sure she was still breathing every few minutes. The ineptitude of the healer really knew no bounds. Injecting draught of the living dead! It was an outrage. It was pure neglect and so utterly stupid. Sure, he could give her the antidote and hope that it worked, but he had never reversed the effects of a potion that had been injected. And he thought that he should at least offer her the chance to heal and sleep because she when woke up he would be hard-pressed to contain her as she tried with all her might to fight against him and seek out their son. Their son who was as good as dead.
He hadn't left her side for days, moping that his son had been torn from his arms but equally worried the woman he loved would become a modern-day sleeping beauty and never wake from her slumber. If she didn't wake within the next day or two he would try his luck with the antidote because currently, she was up to day seven and hadn't even made as much as a flutter with her eyes.
He would pace the room, exactly four of his strides before he reached the wall, turn on his heel and pace the four steps back to beside the bed where she currently lay. Over and over again he paced, stopping only or a meal here or there, eating only enough to stop his stomach flipping inside out with hunger.
Voldemort hadn't called upon him, in fact, Voldemort had been very quiet since he had taken the boy and it piqued Severus's suspicions tenfold. It was unusual for Voldemort not to call upon him and he knew no good would be coming of this. Alas, he would wait to be called and see how it all played out.
He paced backward and forwards, glancing out of the window every few passes, Draco had stopped to check in on her and him a few times a day and to his credit he was nothing but civil and actually pleasing to be around. He knew he cared for the girl and that was fine by him if they somehow did survive all of this, if he somehow managed to live and she didn't want to leave, he would be fine with sharing the girl with him, after all, she was his only ticket to continuing the Malfoy lineage.
Movement out of the corner of his eye roused his interest, he was sure her fingers had just moved. Racing to her side he knelt by the bed. Another flutter of movement and another. Thank fucking Merlin for that.
He held his breath for what felt like an eternity before her eyes groggily opened, looking around the room.
Instantly her hands fell to her stomach, it was no longer round and full of life, no, it was empty and desolate, a barren wasteland of broken dreams.
"Hermione?" He asked gently, stroking her curled, blonde hair. Still blonde from the days previous when Narcissa had bleached it beyond recognition, rendering her looking like she truly belonged within the Malfoy family. "Do you remember what happened?" He pushed, gently.
She blinked at him, once, twice, thrice, as if processing what was going on and regaining her bearings.
"Unfortunately," She hissed with ferocity at him.
He stared at her with regard, wondering just exactly it was that he had done?
"Hermione I'm… I regret what happened I couldn't stop it."
"Couldn't or wouldn't?" She seethed.
"You think I would let him take our child willingly? You honestly think I want to see a baby in the arms of that vile creature, Hermione, for once in your fucking life believe me!" Desperation filled his voice as he pleaded with her desperately.
"You made it quite clear that you didn't want him. You made it known to many that you didn't want our child!" She exclaimed, tears pricking her sad eyes hotly, threatening to spill like a waterfall.
He groaned deep in his throat, frustrated. "Granted I did say that, but I changed my mind, I changed my mind after I saw him. For fuck sake Hermione, this is killing me as much as it is you." Scrubbing his palms over his eyes as he tried to wick away any evidence of a stray tear that may or may not have been threatening to fall.
"I doubt that." She sniffed indignantly, rolling over with her back facing him.
He knew right then and there that his wife was totally and utterly heartbroken and there was nary a fucking thing he could do to right the wrongs.
The pain in his arm was intensely burning. He wanted to see him desperately, but what for? Probably just to gloat.
"I'll be back, this isn't over," He snapped harshly at her, pulling himself to full height and leaving the room.
o-o-o-o-o-o
"My Lord, please. What do you need with such a tiny, helpless child he is virtually of no use to you at all," Severus pleaded, almost throwing himself at the feet of his overlord and begging for his child back.
How times had changed for Severus. Never in a million years did he think that he would ever feel any bond towards a child he sired, he had assumed it was all in someone's head the way they felt about their offspring but now, now he got. The bond and the need to protect came naturally.
"How pathetic," Voldemort tutted. "Begging at my feet like a weak, pathetic muggle. I expected more from you, Severus. Not this, to reduce yourself to this is honestly sad to see." He sat in his armchair watching Severus with intent. The child nowhere to be seen, instilling instant worry deep in the pit of his stomach.
"I've done everything for you. I've given up everything for you and I am standing here, begging you to spare my child. Begging you to give a little back for everything I have given up for you. Anything and everything you have asked of me has been done with no question. My life has been dedicated to you and I ask for one tiny favour and you can't even honour that." Pain etched into each line in his face, brow furrowed as he blinked rapidly trying to push the tears back.
Voldemort watched him with deep regard, never had he seen Severus Snape so broken. In fact, he couldn't even remember the last time he had seen anything upset Severus. Even the time he killed the filthy Potter bitch he hardly blinked a fucking eye. He was always stony-faced, no emotion or weakness shown, but this time it was different. This time the life of his child was on the line.
"Pathetic. You know I don't take kindly to such a pathetic show of emotion, Severus. You knew what I wanted; you knew what would become of the child once it was born. You knew all this, you stood there and told me to my face that you didn't care one bit for the wretched spawn and now, now you have changed your mind within minutes of the boy taking his first breath. You came to me, you convinced me to utilize the girl and I did to my full ability. You are the one that fucked the child into her. All of this is on your shoulders. You knew the ramifications of what would happen."
"Please," His voice cracked harshly as he tried to hold himself together. He didn't need him to see this type of weakness but right now he couldn't help it. He knew his child was going to die, he knew the son he got to hold in his arms for but a moment would be little more than a memory of the few people who saw him born into a cold, dark and evil world.
"Please," He whispered again, collapsing to the ground in a broken heap, staring up into the cold, murderous eyes of a sociopath. The very cold, very empty eyes not even showing a shred of compassion. He didn't except any less, honestly.
"Please," Voldemort mocked in a high falsetto before barking out laughter at the incredibly sick scene before him. Lightning fast Voldemort fished around in his robes for the Elder wand, his wand, the wand that help him possess great power, he wasn't having any of this, he wouldn't sit idly by while Severus grovelled at his feet.
Pointing the slender piece of polished wood at Severus he grinned wickedly. "Crucio," he barked out gleefully almost shrieking in delight. He had wanted to do this for a long time.
Severus collapsed where he stood, body twisting and writhing to and fro in positions a body probably should be able to contort in. Hands clenched tightly and arms stiffened the pain coursing through his body was almost unbearable. No matter how many times he was on the receiving end of this curse, it never got easier and this time it was stronger, he was angrier and wanted Severus to really hurt, maybe he even wanted him to die.
It stopped. Severus panting on his back managed to shakily get to all fours, looking up at Voldemort he winced, knowing another one would come, and it did. Another and another until he was floating in and out of consciousness as the pain surged around his body with vigour, each aim of the wand more intense than the last and he thought that maybe he would die right here and now and he wouldn't care, at least he wouldn't have to go on living life knowing he failed his firstborn son- his only born son.
Voldemort grew bored and stopped just as Severus had come to again. Glacially slow he got to his feet, he felt like vomiting, he wanted to collapse again but he wouldn't show his weakness again, not now, not ever. From now on he would keep it locked up tight, buried deep within him hidden from the world.
"Get out of my sight," Voldemort barked as Severus pulled himself together with every ounce of energy he had left and exited the room with haste.
Out of the room, he stumbled a few steps, using the wall as a walking aid he stumbled along with a few more steps before throwing up all over Lucius's one of a kind wallpaper he had shipped in from Peru. He would fix that later. Or maybe not.
He wanted to collapse again, but not here. Not now. He needed to get back to her, to Hermione, to safety. Where the fuck was Lucius when you needed him? Any other time he would be lurking around the halls and appearing at the most convenient or inconvenient times but now when he really needed him, now when he needed a hand actually functioning, he wasn't anywhere to be found. Of course, why would he be useful to anyone, he excelled in the art of being useless.
Step after agonising step he was sure his legs would give out at any moment. Shaking like he was in the middle of an arctic blast he pushed on. His room had never seen so far away, in saying that he had never in his life been on the receiving end of the curse at such power and he truly felt like he would die. His head spun and his eyes watered making it hard for him to navigate the usually easy route.
The door was so close; it had already taken what felt like an eternity to get here. He pushed on slowly, he had to make it. He needed to collapse in the bed beside her. He needed to know he would be safe while he licked his proverbial wounds. The curse causing his whole body to convulse and shudder, his legs shuddering and threaten to buckle. He reached the door, reaching out a quivering hand he fumbled with the smooth brass knob violently before he managed to turn it.
"What happened to you?" Hermione asked with sincerity laced in her tone as she rushed to his side, eyeing him off as he collapsed in a pile at her feet, a change of tone on her behalf since he last talked to her but a few hours before.
"No...Nothing." He bit out angrily, not at all what he wanted to do.
She helped him back to his feet, pulling his entire weight against her arm she braced and pulled him up with all of her might and walked him over to the bed. He collapsed upon it in the most undignified manner she had ever witnessed.
He fished around in his robes with the utmost difficulty, his fingers grasping his wand he pulled it from his robes.
"My wand. Take my wand and keep it close, use it if you must. Protect yourself." He managed to whisper out and thrust it into her hand before he fell unconscious once more, feeling slightly better that he had someone to watch over him while he was incapacitated. He trusted her, for once in his life he truly trusted someone.
A/N: Slowly progressing. I have the rest of the story firmly mapped out in my head. We might just scrape by and make it to fifty chapters if I play my cards right and the story comes out how I plan… I just write, the characters have a mind of their own. -Aliasmel1