Allosia's eyes suddenly registered him in the distance, walking towards the
castle. He was slow, and in pain, but she resisted the urge to run to him.
She imagined he would be embarrassed and she didn't have it in her to
fight with him about her concern just now.
She sighed with relief, and willed herself to stillness, until she saw him bend over and heave, before collapsing into a sitting position on the ground.
Allosia was up and running towards him then, without thinking.
"Severus," she panted as she came to a stop.
"Allosia." His tone was dry, hoarse, even angry and then he shuddered.
His condition began to register to her then. Trouble breathing, unable to stand, blood around his mouth, the shaking. "What?" was all she was able to get out.
His answer was halting. "Voldemort, at least two broken ribs, I'm presume I'm in shock, not sure what else," then he paused, regaining himself for a moment. "Crucio, of course."
Snape met her eyes at that, and Allosia shuddered. "Let me get you to Pomfrey."
"No. Too public. My rooms, just, I need to be home." Each word was a struggle.
"Can you stand?"
"Well, I don't expect you to carry me. Give me you arm."
It was his self-possession that frightened her the most. What would he have done had she not been sitting out here?.Allosia did her best to help him up, and then just kept muttering to him softly, to go slowly, to not make things worse. She didn't know if his grimace was a reaction to the obvious pain he was in, or her concern.
When they got to his rooms, he stopped, in the doorway.
"Allosia," he paused, swallowed and winced.
"What do you need me to do?" She was proud of herself, for finding a way to offer help without giving him much opportunity to reject it.
He nodded, as if he understood her calculation, and she felt an old familiar respect creep over her.
"First," he said, turning to her with some bemusement, "help me to bed. I need to lie down. Then, I will give you tasks."
She smiled at the memory of experiments, bitter potions and her then child's body serving as a map of his intellect. Allosia nodded, guiding him into the room, pausing to close the door and then manouvering him around furniture and walls to his sleeping alcove.
A small part of her could not help but be charmed, by the double bed and its thick blankets in multiple jewel tones, the stack of books on the nightstand and the shelves of more tomes, rising behind it. It looked comfortable, and she certainly never thought of Snape as comfortable.
"Thank you," he said, sitting down, leaning against the worn, brown leather, padded headboard and closing his eyes.
She stood waiting, aware that he posture would seem awkward if she thought of it, but the moment seemed to require her stillness.
He opened his eyes then, and smiled at her, but it was not kindly.
"Most of what I need should be in the store room, by my office. There's a shortcut, next to the bar, I'll give you the sequence."
She nodded and he began his list to her, pausing only to verify she was capable of remembering it all. He saw her start when he mentioned wormwood and asphodel.
"Dreamless sleep is not enough when you have sold your dreams. Really, my dear," he smiled mockingly, and while it was clearly directed at himself, it was also clear, that he expected her to know better. When he closed his eyes again, she took it as a dismissal, and went to retrieve what was clearly needed.
She sighed with relief, and willed herself to stillness, until she saw him bend over and heave, before collapsing into a sitting position on the ground.
Allosia was up and running towards him then, without thinking.
"Severus," she panted as she came to a stop.
"Allosia." His tone was dry, hoarse, even angry and then he shuddered.
His condition began to register to her then. Trouble breathing, unable to stand, blood around his mouth, the shaking. "What?" was all she was able to get out.
His answer was halting. "Voldemort, at least two broken ribs, I'm presume I'm in shock, not sure what else," then he paused, regaining himself for a moment. "Crucio, of course."
Snape met her eyes at that, and Allosia shuddered. "Let me get you to Pomfrey."
"No. Too public. My rooms, just, I need to be home." Each word was a struggle.
"Can you stand?"
"Well, I don't expect you to carry me. Give me you arm."
It was his self-possession that frightened her the most. What would he have done had she not been sitting out here?.Allosia did her best to help him up, and then just kept muttering to him softly, to go slowly, to not make things worse. She didn't know if his grimace was a reaction to the obvious pain he was in, or her concern.
When they got to his rooms, he stopped, in the doorway.
"Allosia," he paused, swallowed and winced.
"What do you need me to do?" She was proud of herself, for finding a way to offer help without giving him much opportunity to reject it.
He nodded, as if he understood her calculation, and she felt an old familiar respect creep over her.
"First," he said, turning to her with some bemusement, "help me to bed. I need to lie down. Then, I will give you tasks."
She smiled at the memory of experiments, bitter potions and her then child's body serving as a map of his intellect. Allosia nodded, guiding him into the room, pausing to close the door and then manouvering him around furniture and walls to his sleeping alcove.
A small part of her could not help but be charmed, by the double bed and its thick blankets in multiple jewel tones, the stack of books on the nightstand and the shelves of more tomes, rising behind it. It looked comfortable, and she certainly never thought of Snape as comfortable.
"Thank you," he said, sitting down, leaning against the worn, brown leather, padded headboard and closing his eyes.
She stood waiting, aware that he posture would seem awkward if she thought of it, but the moment seemed to require her stillness.
He opened his eyes then, and smiled at her, but it was not kindly.
"Most of what I need should be in the store room, by my office. There's a shortcut, next to the bar, I'll give you the sequence."
She nodded and he began his list to her, pausing only to verify she was capable of remembering it all. He saw her start when he mentioned wormwood and asphodel.
"Dreamless sleep is not enough when you have sold your dreams. Really, my dear," he smiled mockingly, and while it was clearly directed at himself, it was also clear, that he expected her to know better. When he closed his eyes again, she took it as a dismissal, and went to retrieve what was clearly needed.
