Everything went black and Asha felt as if she were being compressed into an infinitely small space, unable to breathe while an invisible hand plunged through her stomach and wrenched her forward by her spine. Then, with an ear-splitting crack, light and space burst back into existence. Snape released his grip and Asha tumbled forward into a wall. She gasped for air and doubled over feeling like she was going to be sick. Fortunately, due to the nauseating anxiety of going back to the Home, she had eaten scarcely anything in days so there was nothing to come up.
"Out of the way," Snape grumbled, pushing past her. What she had thought was a wall turned out to be a door. A door to a quaint, single-storey cottage. Asha spun around. There were a few other houses dotted across the rolling hills of the countryside, and down the road was a cluster of old buildings that Asha assumed made up the village centre.
"Where are we?" Asha asked.
"Abersoch," Snape called back from inside the cottage, "Wales." Wales! Asha continued to scan her surroundings. "Do you plan to stand there all day?" Snape grumbled. Wearily, Asha stepped over the threshold with her trunk and closed the door behind her. Snape had thrown his cloak over the arm of a couch and was waving his wand. His seemingly bottomless trunk was open on the living room floor. Cupboard doors and drawers were flying open, as books, clothes, and other miscellaneous items flew through the air, landing neatly on shelves or disappearing to other parts of the house.
Asha looked around. It was a modest and minimalistic abode with brick walls and hardwood floors. Apart from the bookshelves that lined the walls, the only furniture in the living room was a couch, an armchair, a coffee table, and a dark green rug. The kitchen and dining area was at the other end of the house through a wide archway and provided a breathtaking panoramic view of the surrounding countryside. There were no photos or sentimental items to be seen.
The room grew quiet as the last of Snape's belongings nestled themselves into their designated places. Asha stared at him in disbelief. Did he expect her to stay here? In his house? With him? Then, unable to suppress her curiosity, Asha wandered further into the living room and began to inspect the contents of the shelves. His book collection was certainly something to admire, not to mention the content looked far more interesting than what was available in the Hogwarts library; An Analysis of the Unconventional Dueling Strategies of the 18th Century, Theories on Goblin-Made Ironwork, A Curation of Lesser-Known Counter-Curses, Dark Alchemy and its Contributions to the Search for the Universal Solvent... Asha's eyes were drawn to a heavy, ancient-looking tome. The ink-black leather was cracking and there was no title on the spine, just the subtle indent of a coiling snake. She raised her hand to draw the book from the shelf.
"Do not touch that," came a deadly growl. Hand still raised, Asha turned her head slowly to look at Snape, one eyebrow ever so slightly raised. He had his arms folded across his chest as his eyes bore holes through her very being. Gently, she lowered her arm.
Snape spoke slowly, punctuating every consonant. "While you are here you will not touch any of these books. Do you understand?" Asha kept her face expressionless but her eyes twinkled with curiosity and she scanned the shelves once more.
"Yes," she conceded before quickly adding "-Professor".
"You can put your trunk in there" he ordered, flicking his wand at a door on her left, "And don't get comfortable. I have to go out and tend to some business for which, thanks to you, I am already late. But when I return we'll be sorting out where you're going. Do not leave this house - I will know if you do". And with that, he snatched his coat up off the couch and stormed out of the house. He was definitely regretting bringing her here. There was a crack and Asha was alone.
The room on the left contained a single bed, a set of dark wooden drawers, and a matching bedside table. The walls were covered in a plain cream wallpaper and at the back of the room there was a casement window that provided a 'glorious' view of a fieldstone wall that was too tall to see over.
She didn't want to be here. She hated the fact she was nothing but a burden, yet she was too weak to do anything about it. She didn't want to stay, but she couldn't bring herself to leave. Her whole body was swirling with loathing. A dark, twisted, malevolent loathing - for herself. There was no escape. There was no way out when it was herself that was blocking the path. Suddenly she could feel the weight of the infant in her arms...
Panic flooded through her body as she strained to hear the baby's faint, wheezing breaths.
'We need to get help, something's not right!' Asha urged.
'No Ash! They'll take him away!"
"Give me your phone!" Asha heard herself shout. "Mad! Your phone! Now!"
"I don't have it," sobbed the girl, "I dropped it as we were running onto the bus. What are we going to do, Ash!" Her wails rang out across the deserted landscape. Asha's mind was racing at one hundred miles an hour.
"There was a house, a couple of miles back, remember? We can get help there. Come on Mad, stand up, please!"
An infuriating ringing was crescendoing in Asha's ears. She fell forward against the window and gripped the sill with one hand, her other clenched in a fist at her side. She stared at the sill at and willed herself back to the present. A droplet splashed down on to the wood and she realised she had tears streaming down her face. Her emotion was too overwhelming to comprehend. It was a raging storm of anger, grief, shame, loneliness... Asha felt a hot sensation course through her veins towards the hand clenched at her side. Her fingers flexed violently and a strong sensation pierced the side of her thigh. She gasped and stumbled backwards, twisting to look at her leg. There was a dark shadow spreading on the side of her black jeans and the whole area felt strangely hot. She pressed her fingers to the side of her thigh and they came away wet and red. Feeling totally bewildered, she unbuttoned her trousers and pushed them to her knees. A 6-inch-long gash ran up the side of her thigh, deep and inflamed. It was at that point Asha realized the sensation she had been feeling was pain.
She grabbed a t-shirt from her trunk and sat down on the edge of the bed, pressing the fabric to the wound to stop blood running on to the bedsheets. Although, strangely there was not as much blood as she would've expected from a cut of that size. She sat in silence and observed how the pain pulsed with her heartbeat. It was an all-consuming pain, and for that reason, it was calming. Her attention was locked to the physical sensations of her body, rather than the torment of her mind. Her breathing slowed and the ringing in her ears died away. She felt infinitely calmer.
After ten minutes, Asha had acclimatised to the throbbing pain and the wound had started to clot. She tied a white tank top tightly around her thigh, pulled up her jeans, and lay back on the bed. How had she done that? Her jeans hadn't ripped so it had to have been magic. In her first year at Hogwarts, Asha's friends had talked about how they had accidentally used magic when they were younger. It tended to happen when they were angry or scared but it was only little things; making a light flicker or making the ground soft as they fell over. She could think of times when she and Cole had done it too. This must've been a more severe version of that. She gave a sardonic laugh. Trust her to manage to do something so childish and inexperienced.Still, Asha welcomed her newly established inner calm. Her eyelids grew heavy and soon her reality dissolved as she sank into a much-needed sleep.
Dusk had fallen by the time Asha awoke to the sound of the front door slamming shut. The cottage was filled with sounds of thumping and clinking as Snape unloaded items into the kitchen and back rooms. After a few minutes, a lean, dark figure emerged in Asha's doorway.
"There's food if you want it," he stated, barely giving her a glance before sweeping out of sight. It was at that moment Asha realized she was starving. She jumped to her feet. A pain shot up her right leg and she examined the raised, dark patch on her jeans. She dug a school robe out of her trunk and pulled it on. It was open at the front and hung loosely around her slender frame, but did its job of concealing the side of her thigh.
Strolling into the dining area, Asha noticed Snape eyeing her strange choice of attire, but he refrained from making any snide remarks. He was standing in the kitchen, tinkering with what looked like a silver compass attached to a small vile of gold liquid. Asha hesitantly approached the counter. She endured the potion master's usual cold stare as she reached into the bag of sandwiches and pulled one out. She refused to break the silence in the hope of delaying the imminent conversation about her living situation. She glanced at him before turning on her heel and heading back to her room.
"Why are you limping?" she heard him call from behind her. Asha spun around.
"What? ... I'm not," she replied with convincing sincerity.
"You are."
"I'm not!". His eyes panned down to her lower legs which were visible under her robe. "There's nothing wrong with my feet!" she exclaimed.
"I can see that" he replied coldly. She had turned to leave when all of a sudden Snape lunged at her with uncharacteristic speed. He whipped her cloak aside, revealing her right leg.
"Hey!" She tried to pull away but he was gripping her firmly by the fabric at her waist. His eyes narrowed as he registered the dark, raised bloodstain on her jeans.
"What is this?" he growled. Shit.
"I scratched myself."
"You scratched yourself."
"Yes. On the corner of a draw"
With his free hand, Snape pulled out his wand and flicked it in a circular motion. The portion of Asha's jeans soaked in blood, as well as the make-shift bandage beneath, dissolved into the air and vanished, leaving the deep, oozing gash exposed. Asha winced as the cool air washed over the wound.
"What have you done!" he hissed, "I leave you alone for one second!"
"It's nothing!" she insisted. He released her and pointed at the couch.
"Sit," he commanded. Asha reluctantly discarded her robe on the armchair and plonked herself on the living room couch, arms crossed.
"I would've fixed it myself if we were allowed to use magic," she grumbled.
"Don't talk such rubbish," Snape snapped, "You don't learn healing spells until sixth year!" He hesitated and narrowed his eyes at her. "Or is this just another skill you've supposedly taught yourself, along with non-verbal magic and disillusionment charms?"
Asha had actually performed healing charms before - Maive was a Hufflepuff chaser this year and had let Asha practice on her whenever she got a hit by a bludger - but she kept her mouth shut.
Snape knelt down in front of the couch, pressed the tip of his wand into the skin adjacent to the gash, and muttered "Medeor epidermide". Nothing happened. Snape furrowed his brow and scowled, looking up at Asha suspiciously. "What exactly did you do, Asha?" he said slowly and seriously. She swallowed sheepishly.
"Er... I think... I think I may have accidentally used some magic." She could feel her face growing hot but she stubbornly held his gaze. His expression quickly changed to that of anger as he snarled through gritted teeth.
"Do I need to confiscate that wand of yours, Winters?You are underage! How many times do you have to be told not- "
"No! I didn't use my wand! It wasn't on purpose! You think I'd do this on purpose!?" The potions master glared at her astutely. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. "I'm not lying," Asha insisted, "I know accidental magic's a thing, my friends have told me about it! Except usually it only happens to... to kids." Asha's voice trailed off in embarrassment. Still on one knee, Snape returned his gaze to her leg. He pressed his wand firmly to her skin once more, this time into the corner of the gash. Asha grimaced at the searing pain but didn't move.
"Medeor epidermide" he said in a clearer, stronger voice. Once again, nothing happened. He stood up looking perplexed and ran a hand through his hair. "No. This can't have been merely accidental. Causing harm on such a scale requires accurate, potent, and deliberate magic. It's almost impossible to achieve something like this without a wand, let along an incantation." He rolled his wand between his finger and stared off into space, apparently deep in thought. After a minute or two, he spoke again. "I've never seen a wound quite like it. Whatever magic caused this is actively minimizing the bleeding, yet repelling the healing spell. Are you sure you are telling me the truth, Winters?"
"Yes," Asha replied, though her voice was distant. Of course she had managed to give herself an unhealable cut! Why fucking not! Causing harm just seemed to be her style apparently. She looked up into Snape's coal-black eyes and suddenly felt an odd tugging sensation at the base of her skull. Images from a few hours ago - being braced against the window and flexing her hand - flickered translucently in front of her eyes. She experienced brief flashes of the accompanying emotions and the sensation of magic coursing through her veins into her hand. Asha gasped and stood up, breaking eye contact. "What the fuck!?"
"Language, Winters" Snape drawled, though he was looking a little startled. "Sit down" he snapped and pushed her back down onto the couch by her shoulder. "I wonder..." He crouched down once more and this time positioned his wand inches from her skin and murmured "Vulnera sanentur". Instantly the blood began to absorb back into her skin and the inflammation dissipated. The split flesh began to press together, though the skin did not knit itself together seamlessly like Asha had seen other healing spells achieve. Snape grunted in disapproval.
"Looks pretty good to me," Asha offered. Snape stood up, crossed his arms, and surveyed her.
"Go and sit out on the porch" he ordered, striding out of the room before she could argue.
A slide-door in the kitchen lead out onto a small porch with a wooden railing. Asha sat down on one of the chairs and admired the bucolic view. The sky was a burning red and the trees that peppered the fields had elongated shadows. After a few minutes, Snape returned holding a small vial containing a deep purple liquid.
"Oh, don't waste that on me," Asha protested, "You've healed the worst of it".
"And it won't heal any further unless we treat it now." He uncorked the vial and immediately a sharp, putrid odour filled the air.
"I can see why you made me go out outside," Asha said, scrunching up her face.
"This will hurt" Snape announced, glaring at her warningly. Asha rolled her eyes. He leaned over and poured the entire contents of the bottle over her wound. Asha jerked and gripped the edges of her chair. It felt like someone had doused her leg in gasoline and dropped a lit match. After ten seconds of gruelling agony, the pain subsided and no evidence of the injury remained. Asha slumped back in her chair. She watched the orange sun disappearing behind the distant hills and propped her feet up an adjacent chair. Snape leaned against the railing, also staring out at the horizon.
"At some point, you're going to have to tell me what's going on, Asha" He said softly. She didn't reply.
