The Houses Competition (or THC) Round Five: Burning Up
House: Slytherin
Class: Muggle Studies
Category: Themed: 1000-3000 words, worth up to 18 points
Theme, choose one theme: [Discomfort] - mental or physical unease
Prompts, choose one prompt: [Last Line] It was a relief to finally close [his/her/my/name's] eyes.
Word Count: 2,976
Disclaimers/triggers: Canon based character death
Two sentences taken from HP 7, "The Elder Wand"
Beta Love: StoryPlease, DeepShadows2 - Thanks to my teammates for looking over my story!
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FOCUS
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His eyes were burning. He could barely keep them open. It felt as if he had been awake for three days and counting. Maybe he had. Severus had lost count when it came to his waking hours.
There had been so much to do.
So much to do and so little time. Too little time.
Not that it mattered anymore.
It stopped mattering the moment the pain in his neck had hit him with full force. For a moment, there had only been pain. He screamed and struggled, his body automatically trying to get away from the agony it was experiencing.
The torture his body went through was overwhelming, but after a moment, the pain faded to a slight throbbing, barely worth the acknowledgement. The only thing left behind was the dizziness that spread through his body the moment the agony left it.
It was hard to think.
Severus staggered and stumbled. His right hand automatically reached out so that he could steady himself on the wall next to him. He reached up with his left hand towards his neck. There was something wet there, when he touched it.
He removed his left hand and stared at its stained palm without comprehension.
A shudder spread through his body. He felt cold.
His temporary hold on the wall dwindled – right hand and unstable feet suddenly barely able to bear his weight. Then his feet gave out and he fell to the floor.
His hand slid down the wall, still uselessly trying to steady his collapsing body. On the way down, it scrubbed over the wooden wall, the skin of his palm tearing open on the rough wood. Splinters embedded themselves into his palm and he bled. From experience, Severus knew those scrapes should hurt, but he didn't feel it.
The world before his eyes swam before it rightened itself again, leaving behind a shadow that seemed to loom over everything.
There was a mild pressure – discomforting, for sure, but only mildly so – where the wounds were, nothing else.
Nevertheless, Severus was sure that something had happened. He was sure that he should feel concerned – but the only thing he felt was dizziness and a vague unease as if he had forgotten something important. Something like putting out the flames beneath a cauldron about to explode.
But what?
His mind was blank.
He lifted his right hand and stared at it. It felt heavy like lead and a bit like it wasn't part of his body.
"You're bleeding."
The voice didn't seem real, more like an echo of a memory, bleeding into his waking hours.
It was riddled with the same clinical detachment like it always had been.
"Put something on it, boy!" His mother stared at him with the same cool detachment that coated her voice. She was leaning over him – using the leverage of her height to intimidate him.
Severus blinked at her. His eyes burned and he couldn't really focus on her face, no matter how hard he tried. Not that he needed to see her disappointed gaze. He knew how she was looking at him right now – he had seen it often enough to not need the visual reminder.
Severus pulled his slightly numb legs closer to his body, his left, unhurt hand curled around his waist in the mocking expression of a hug. His body wracked with shivers.
With his mother's eyes on him, he felt small and useless.
The scrapes on his right palm pulsed in tune with the pressure of his blood. His neck ached.
At any rate, his mother's uncaring eyes were worse. They reminded him that no matter what, she had never really been on his side. He squirmed a bit under her icy glare, but didn't dare to look away. He knew better than to look away.
"Mother," he tried to say, but the word got stuck in his throat before he could make a sound.
What had he done to end up on the floor? He remembered potions, fear and pain, but he couldn't place it. Had he brewed in the kitchen? Had he broken his mother's rules? How old was he again? He felt too dizzy and too cold to think.
His mother's frown deepened. She always seemed to know when he wanted to say something but didn't manage to get a word out.
"Speak up, boy," she said harshly. "You weren't raised in a barn!"
"Mo..thr," this time the word passed his lips in a mangled, unclear sort of way. Obviously, that pleased his mother less.
"Articulate clearly, boy," she admonished him. "I raised you better than this!"
Severus flinched. His body curled up a bit more – an automatic reaction to his mother's words. He was sure that something wasn't right. His legs seemed numb, his palm felt fuzzy and his neck oddly hot compared to the rest of his body. He was also lying in an angle that would surely make his neck ache something fierce, soon.
Something was seriously wrong.
Nevertheless, he kept up the eye contact with his mother.
'It hurts, Mother.'
The woman just looked at him expressionlessly. "Don't stare at me like that," she said. "And don't present me with your pitiful scrapes. I won't help you with them."
Of course, she wouldn't. She never did and never had.
'Mother, please.'
But she just turned away. "Don't come crying for me again! You won't like the consequences if you do."
Severus clenched his fists. It felt like there was a belt around his chest, tightening until it felt hard to breathe. He had always known that his mother never really loved him. But this… this plain dismissal of something that didn't feel trivial to him at all? It hurt. And it made him feel unsettled. Had she always cared so little about him?
For a moment, the throbbing in his palm increased. He could feel some of the wooden splinters moving in his wounds. It felt uncomfortable, like brushing your hand over a hot stove. Not near enough to burn, but near enough to feel the threatening heat.
At least, the threat of something more snapped Severus out of his vision and cleared his mind a bit. The figure of his mother dissolved into nothing but dust when the memory lost its hold over him.
She hadn't been real.
His mother hadn't been there – had never really said those things he had heard just then.
Severus shuddered. His body felt stiff and heavy. His neck throbbed.
For a moment, he lay there, simply blinking. The room he was in was dark and dusty – or was it his vision that made it look like that? Severus' eyes burned. They felt heavy.
Don't close them.
Not yet.
Severus' body ached with too little sleep and too many things he had tried to get done. Potions after potions he had brewed which had ensured that his shoulders were aching with overextension. He lifted his unhurt, stained left hand to push a strand of his hair out of his eyes. His hand shook.
He felt weak, tired and ready to sleep.
Not yet.
Ruthlessly he suppressed the trembling in his hand, pushed the strand out of his eye and then tried to find leverage with both of his hands on the floor to push himself up and out of the uncomfortable position he was in.
His mind felt foggy. Chills wracked his body and he felt depressingly cold.
His hands – once so easily controlled – shook with the strain of pushing his upper body up from the floor.
Something… there was something he had to remember. Something was happening right now…
Then his hands gave way and he fell back onto the floor. His head hit the wall behind him and his vision swam. For a moment his surroundings seemed to grey out and the shadows surrounding him increased. Severus blinked. The world gained colour again, but it seemed a darker place than it had been just a moment ago. Severus' eyes dropped, the burning stronger than the will to keep them open.
No, not yet.
There was still so much to do...
He forced them open despite the burn.
"You don't look so good, Sev."
A moment ago, Severus had been sure that he had been alone, but now, there was a figure crouching over him.
"Lily," he tried to say, but the voice left him before he could utter even a single letter.
Green eyes met his tired black ones with concern. Then a hand reached out towards his neck and Severus – knowing what was expected of him – tilted his head to the side so that his best friend could take a look.
"That looks nasty," she decided.
Her assessment actually startled Severus. It didn't feel nasty. Oh, it throbbed something fierce and it felt a bit as if his skin was stretched to its limits there. But it didn't feel nasty. He had felt a lot worse before. This was nothing compared to those times.
"I've had worse," he tried to tell her, but his throat didn't cooperate. There was a dry feeling to it and the slight tickling of an oncoming cough irritated it. Severus swallowed, automatically trying to soothe the feeling in his throat by wetting it.
With the motion, pressure built on the left side of his neck, giving him the sensation of his skin stretching in ways that it shouldn't.
He seemed to have gotten his point across anyway, because Lily's mien turned severe.
"It doesn't matter," she said. "You're hurt – that's all that matters."
Because of course that would be her opinion on that matter.
'I still had worse.'
But truthfully, Severus wasn't sure if that was true. Something was niggling in the back of his mind, making him doubt his assessment. But whatever it was, he couldn't access it beyond the feeling of unease through the fog in his brain.
"Oh, Sev," Lily said and there was sadness in her eyes. "Sometimes worse can't be defined by the lack of pain."
She had told him that before, whenever he had insisted that he wasn't bothered by mean words of classmates and school nemeses. It was her way of telling him that she knew that words sometimes could cut deeper than physical hurt could ever reach.
Severus wondered why she was telling him that now.
There was something he had forgotten.
Something wasn't right and the unease in his chest told him that it was important.
Lily changed her position so that she was now sitting next to him instead of crouching before him. "I don't like your pallor," she said softly. "When was the last time you've been outside?"
Severus actually had to think about that. It was hard to think – like wading through molasses. His thoughts seemed stuck on the present; the past was nothing but full of vague shapes.
There had been potions, a lot of potions. There had been no time – too little time for everything he needed to do.
And pain.
Severus remembered being in pain, even if it had been short-lived and the feeling of the agony itself long since forgotten. The pain had been important, but Severus' syrupy thoughts couldn't grasp why he knew it was important. The reason escaped him, leaving him with a vague discomfort, but nothing more.
"Sev?" He looked at Lily again. "Sev? When was the last time you've been outside?"
'Far too long ago.'
Lily glared at him. "You should take better care of yourself, Sev!" She immediately admonished him. "Honestly! Don't you know better than that?"
But there hadn't been time. He had needed to be done.
Some of his thoughts must have shown on his face, because Lily's glare lessened.
"You don't need to do everything alone, silly," she said, her voice gentling. "That's what friends are for."
But Severus didn't have friends. Not since Lily…
His eyes widened; the unease intensified.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Lily asked him, her face stern. "C'mon! Stand up! Whatever it is you need to do, I'll help you, OK?"
But it wasn't. It wasn't OK because…
Lily's figure blurred in front of his eyes. She seemed young and older at the same time for a moment and Severus wanted to reach out towards her and touch her.
Because…
He tried to lift his left hand a second time.
It was heavy – far heavier than it had been before.
The dust danced around him in the sparsely lit room. Twilight was descending upon the world – or maybe it was just descending upon Severus' world.
"Lil…ly," the word actually passed his lips this time. It was mangled, barely recognizable as her name, but it was there.
Severus' eyes burned. He tried to keep them open, because he wanted this to be real. He wanted Lily to be there.
Lily smiled. Her face lit up like the sun. And then she dissolved into dust the way his mother had before.
A single tear left Severus' eyes and trailed down his cheek.
The cold that had overtaken his limbs fought with the burn of his neck and eyes.
Severus' eyelids dropped and he let them.
Lily hadn't been real.
Lily was dead.
"That's what you're fixating on now?" The voice was stern like Lily's and cold like his mothers. Severus hadn't heard it in a long, long time.
"You're not real," he wanted to say, but the only thing that left his throat was a pitiful croak.
"Quit the dramatics, child, and open your eyes," the man – known to Severus but certainly not there – admonished him. "You're old enough to know better than to give up because something didn't go the way you hoped."
Severus forced his eyes open just to be able to glare at his hallucination.
In front of him – where Lily had been – knelt a man in a silvery cloak with unforgiving eyes in the same colour as the killing curse.
"Ah, still a bit of fight left in you, then," the man said, satisfied.
"Godfather," Severus wanted to spit at the man in greeting, but the word that left his throat was incomprehensible.
"Guess you still know who I am," Severus' godfather said, satisfied. Severus just stared at him in contempt, even though he could only see the blurry outline of the random man his parents had chosen as his godfather. The man had been a stranger, just passing by, not even a friend of his parents. A poor choice, but what else was there to expect from parents who had never cared about Severus?
'You're not real.'
"Does it matter? I'm here," his godfather countered. "Just like your mother was. Just like Lily was."
Then his godfather turned and looked over his shoulder. His eyes fixed on a crate not too far from Severus. "It won't be long now," he said. "Just keep your eyes open until then."
Then he turned back towards Severus and glared at him. "And stem that bleeding, will you? You're about to bleed out, you silly child."
Severus blinked and automatically lifted his stained hand towards his neck. His fingers touched something wet. He pulled his hand back again and stared at it.
It was stained red.
His godfather was right.
Severus was bleeding.
Immediately, Severus returned his hand to the wound and pressed down. The dull throbbing flared up to a stabbing pain. For a moment, Severus forgot to breathe and his mind cleared.
The Dark Lord.
The talk about the wand.
The snake.
Venom. There was venom cursing through his body, killing him. Severus guessed that he should panic, that he should feel afraid… but he had always known that this was how he would die. Not the method, but he had known that he wouldn't survive this war.
He still hadn't done what he needed to do…
He hadn't fulfilled his promise. The thought brought back the unease that had been pushed away by the clearing of his mind.
Severus' eyes travelled towards his godfather. He expected the man gone, now that Severus was more or less clear-headed, but the man was still kneeling next to him, watching the crate.
Before Severus could ask why he was looking there – could even ask why his godfather was still there when he should have dissolved like the rest of Severus' hallucinations – the crate was lifted by magic.
A moment later, Potter pulled himself up into the room and hurried over. He ran straight through Severus' godfather, confirming that the other man was an illusion – even if a clearly stubborn one that wouldn't vanish.
"Your last chance," Severus' godfather told him.
But Severus didn't need to be told. His eyes felt heavy, his body was icy.
He reached out towards Potter and pulled him close. There were things he had to tell him. Things he need to know, but–
Severus didn't have the words, couldn't do anything. And then his godfather pulled out a wand and aimed it at Severus' head. "Just think of it," he said gently.
And Severus did.
"Take… it… Take… it," he begged the child. Silvery blue mist left his mouth, his eyes and ears aided by his godfather's spell. He couldn't focus on his surroundings anymore, wasn't too sure if Potter had heeded his wish. But he was sure that Granger was there and she would do it even if Potter wouldn't.
The cold overwhelmed him. His grip slackened.
"Look… at… me…"
Potter's eyes met his own. Then Severus' godfather reached out towards him. "Let's go, my child," he said with a soft smile. "It's time. You can sleep now."
"Death," Severus whispered, unsure if his lips even moved anymore or if he was already gone.
"The one and only," the other replied. "Let go. Your task is done."
Severus smiled. His hand struck the floor.
It was a relief to finally close his eyes.
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The End
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About the godfather: I guess Severus' parents chose Death as his godfather just because he walked by? ^^'
The story turned out a bit more tragic than I planned. Anyway, I hope you liked it.
Over and out.
Ebenbild