"I Can't Let You Love Me" Chapter 3
Phoebe walked swiftly down the corridors to the dungeon frustration, pain, and anger all fighting within her. As she walked her strides lengthened and became more purposeful, stronger, as the unexpressed emotions boiled within her. She nearly ran several students to the ground. More than one sprang out of her way and looked at her retreating back with surprise. Phoebe, however, did not stop nor did she look back. She needed to get to her office as quickly as possible before she exploded.
All the while one thought circled in her head "Damn, damn, damn, damn!" Damn what? She wasn't sure. Herself for falling in love, Snape for returning her feelings...for pushing her away, the death eaters? Well of course she'd like to damn the Death Eaters and Voldemort on general principles! "Arrgh!" She spat out in frustration and slammed open her office door. She promptly turned and slammed it shut behind her so hard that a few of the thick stones in the walls shifted. She had always had a nasty temper, that's why she tried not to get angry. But now it was too late.
She whipped out her wand and swung it sharply sending several items flying into the walls of her office. She narrowed her eyes and frowned. Then she shoved the stack of student papers off her desk onto the floor and transfigured everything else on it to glass. She proceeded to pick up each item individually and smash it against the far stone wall as hard as she could. She hurled the items with such force that, by the time she finished, her arms ached.
It was only when everything that had been on the desk lay in glittering shards that she stopped, stood still, and found herself sinking to the floor. She sat with her back to the opposite wall and tried to resist the howl of misery and frustration welling in her, but she could not. She put her head in her hands and let herself not just cry, but actually weep as she had not done in years.
Why had she done it? Why had she said anything at all? Why had she told him? Couldn't she have left well enough alone? Ptolemy's Ghost, why couldn't she just keep pretending to herself it wasn't true... that something about this man drew her to him in a way that surprised even her? But, no, she'd had to admit it not only to herself but also to him! What had happened was worse than she could have imagined.
The worst she might have expected (had she been smart enough to think it through before she did it) was rejection. But to find that he felt it too and still rejected her... That was worse. The fact that it was supposedly for her own safety was cold comfort. Weren't matters of her safety her decision?
She slammed her fist on the hard floor and heard the unmistakable crack of a bone breaking even before she felt it. When she did feel it she let out several choice oaths she had picked up in her travels.
"Your vocabulary has expanded in the last several years," a venerable voice said from the doorway. Phoebe's head whipped around to see Albus Dumbledore standing in the doorway. "I knocked, but you clearly did not hear me,"
Suddenly, Phoebe was very aware of the fact that she was sitting on the floor across from a pile of shattered glass with what was undoubtedly a very messy face. Dumbledore had seen her crying... and she didn't generally let people see her cry. She wiped her cheeks with her hands and rose quickly.
"I apologize, sir, I'm sure that's not language fit for a professor."
"Why ever not?" Dumbledore asked, "In the privacy of your office and out of the presence of students I don't see why you should censor yourself. Especially," he added, "when you have such colorful expressions at your disposal." Well, Dumbledore was the sort of person to particularly appreciate the curses she'd learned in America.
"Well, travel does tend to broaden one's horizons," she said dryly.
"Phoebe," Dumbledore said, a slight change in his voice, "I came to see if you are alright. I-"
Phoebe did something very few people ever did, she interrupted him, "Of course I am, sir, thanks you for asking."
"No," Dumbledore said firmly with a meaningful look at the pile of broken glass, "I don't think you are."
Phoebe didn't know what to say so, for once, she wisely said nothing letting her mind focus on the throbbing pain in her hand, instead.
"When Severus refused to tell me why he was so upset I thought it best to come and speak with you," Dumbledore said.
When Dumbledore mentioned Severus being upset Phoebe forgot about her hand for a moment, then silently cursed herself. She only just stopped herself from banging her other hand into the wall. If she didn't watch it she'd be joining Severus in the hospital wing and she really didn't think she could stand to be there right now. Still, however, she said nothing.
Dumbledore sighed, cleared his throat and spoke again, carefully and gently, "Phoebe, it seems clear to me that you and Severus have begun to care deeply for one another. Unless I'm very much mistaken, it was only just now that you both realized the feeling was mutual." Phoebe nodded miserably. "And yet," he continued, "I find you both visibly upset a short time later. This concerns me. Now, I could make some suppositions but it seems wiser and better to ask why."
Phoebe sighed very heavily and shook her head. "I was foolish to allow myself to get into this mess in the first place." She turned from him and walked toward her bookshelves. She hoped not looking at him would make it easier. "Severus is of the opinion that being in a relationship with him would get me killed and so..." she trailed off, feeling embarrassed and hurt.
"So he refuses to do anything about the way you both feel." Dumbledore finished for her, "I see." He paused here, and Pheobe could hear the rustle of his robes, "I can understand why Severus thinks as he does." Phoebe winced at this but Dumbledore continued, seemingly unaware, "Nonetheless I had hoped... I had hoped that together the two of you might overcome the unfortunate trait you share."
"And that is?" Phoebe asked.
"Fear."
"Fear?" Phoebe whirled, incredulous, "Us? Fear? I hardly think that's a fair assessment, do you?"
"Yes I do," Dumbledore replied, holding up a hand to stay her protests, "You both have shown a great deal of courage to be sure, but you both fear the same thing above all others."
"Love?" Phoebe asked.
"After a fashion, but not that specifically. I think if you think about it you will understand. When you are ready to talk about it I will be here." Dumbledore said gently. With that he left closing the door very quietly behind him.
