In accordance to all popular and completely biased belief, Severus was wholly unpredictable.


It was not the sensation of an empty, cold dent, nor the smell of freshly slept-in sheets that awoke him. It was the smell of tea.


He awoke nose first, as always, carefully whiffing the unfamiliar and excitingly alien territory around him. He let the blackness swim behind his lids for several minutes before he eased them open reluctantly. The sunlight hastily filled his head, and a slow, unnervingly dull ache began at the base of his skull and charged forward unhindered.


The tea, brewed in the manner which he himself favoured, ushered forth such memories, that he opened his eyes fully this time, expecting his stones, simmering cauldrons and green and silver canopied bed to greet him.


But the illusion was dispelled, the formerly magnificent surroundings slowly melted and liquified into the tiny, squashed and ardently over heated room. He stretched his knuckles again, acutely aware of another's presence, the girl's curious, but not prying gaze, and the coils of steam that were lazily drifting from her mug.


He felt enlivened, and so vigorously rested, that for a few ridiculous, but unearthly seconds, he believed himself capable of anything. He rubbed his nose, which was cold, and found himself wishing for the small bundle of her body, wedged beside his own.


He heard the dull, clunky roar of the mug being set on the bed table beside him, and the soft sigh that she allowed herself. She sat on the edge of the bed, her slight weight barely making a dent in the malleable springs.


Nothing was said between the two of them, for circumstances had already advanced beyond being uncomfortable. She was intrigued by him, and though Severus found it distasteful and unprideful, he was fascinated by her.


Her instinctual comforting was just that: instinct. A motherly ember had been awaken and kindled by him, and though it was not blazing, it was still vibrant. He hadn't minded that she had crawled into bed with him, though it was far more difficult to ignore the small curves of her breasts against him than he would have anticipated.


He had also found it interesting that he hadn't awoken with a dull and painfully throbbing erection that had plagued him for as long as he could remember. Severus was enormously relieved at this, for he could never have imagined both their shames if he had grown hard with her wrapped around him.


She reached out tenatively, and tapped his foot, fingers extending so the rest of her wouldn't have to. He pulled away from her, and she acknowledged this as his being awake.


I've brought you tea. I thought you might need it.


Perhaps this was a proffered apology, or a sampling of her hospitality, but he was oddly gratified by this inanely simple gesture.


He nodded and sat up, ignoring the plaintive buckles and cracks in his back that they both heard. He reached out, and without looking, allocated the mug and brought it to his lips without breaking eye contact.


He noticed that she neither flinched nor looked away, angrily embarrassed by him. In the beginning, she was nearly walking about on tip toes, trying to avoid him around corners, and not meet his infamously stern gaze.


You keep having the same nightmare.


She gestured at the bed, the tangled sheets and mangled pillow. He closed his eyes, leaning his head back, wishing her gone, yet painfully yearning for her presence.


I've had the same nightmare for twenty years now. I've learned to administer my own cures.


He was speaking, of course, of rather heavy dosages of Dreamless Sleep, among other soporific narcotics, but she would never have known this.


I didn't mean to invade...you were just screaming so much...I thought someone was killing you....


She hesitated, knowing by some gift of foresight, that she was treading extremely volatile ground. Severus would never warn her of how close her prediction had come.


It's fine. A natural reaction. In fact, I thank you.


He tried to keep the bite out of his voice, tried to keep the condescension that was the pestilence of his relationships with others, but found that traces of it still remained in his intonation.


Next time, I'll just leave you alone.


She was trying to apologise again, trying to alleviate whatever distaste she had heard in his voice beforehand.


Severus had honestly not minded it. She had wedged herself into him, a ball of arms and legs, her thighs cleverly wrapped around his own, encasing him in a fleshy tangle. Her hand had never left his own, though her other arm was thrown across his chest, her palm sheltering his heart. They lay in a distant stupor, a lethargic battlefield, her own wiry frame trying to protect his. She had afforded a view of the part of her hair, the gleaming whiteness violently contrasted with the sable mane that flowed around it. She enveloped him in an unconscious, intimate embrace.


I really didn't mean to fall asleep....but I...you were thrashing around and crying and....my mum used to come in and sleep with me till my nightmares were over. It was the only thing I could think of.


She gave him an absent stare, and he immediately saw that she was reminiscing. He wondered what possible nightmares a child could have that would have brought a mother to wrestle it back to sleep.


She shifted her weight again, obviously uncomfortable by his lack of vocal scathing and the scrutiny which usually accompanied his stares.

You kept shouting a name. Voldemort?.


She knitted her eyebrows together, not noticing the physical repulsion the name caused him. He felt himself tense up, a flimsily built being of over- grated nerves.


Voldemort. It is he from whom I run.


Severus spoke cryptically and sparsely when he spoke of Voldemort. He also extremely disliked the fact that he was seeking refuge from a wizard whom he could most likely best in a duel.


He killed my sister.


Her face didn't crumple, and the tears that can sometimes escort these kinds of confessions, didn't stream. In fact, she looked positively calm and peaceful, the center of gravity. Severus swore he could detect relief hidden within the words.


I believed that to be so. How did your sister die?.


He knew what an utterly bastardly thing it was to say, and in what a cruelly blunt manner he had demanded this, but she seemed not to mind.


She was trying to help half bloods and non magi's that were being pursued by Deatheaters. She never let on what she was doing, mostly because we would die if she told us, but also because she was afraid to be thought mad. He found her, eventually, and he tortured her. She never broke down, not even in the end when he used physical implements instead of bloody spells.


She looked so angry, so wretchedly furious and utterly helpless, that it evoked a long lost sense of pity in Severus. She was twisting the bed sheets between her hands, her nails shredding the material.


Then perhaps you should also know that I am a former Deatheater.


He knew it was wiser not to tell her, and that she would most likely come flying at him. He braced himself for her attack, for the pent up rage that had plagued her so deviously in those years. He had made his tone carefully impassive and dispassionate. He sounded like one under the influence of Veritaserum.


There was a look of such disgust and loathing, a repulsion so strong that it sank like lead through his skull. He felt assailed, naked and starkly stripped of any defenses with which he might have armed himself.


He almost pitied her, this girl who had unwittingly crept into bed with one of her sister's probable killers.


You don't deserve to live.


She said it very calmly, though with thinly veiled bitterness. She rose up stiffly, her body having trouble accepting the grim and troubling news. Severus watched her silently, knowing well that what she said was true.


She edged towards him, furious gaze prying into his own, not allowing his eyes to wander. She grasped the handle of the tea, and with a swift motion brought it to the side of his head.











A/N: A semi-cliffie. Anyways, thanks for the reviews and profuse thanks for Ami-the-writing-queen, bitterdiva, lady jeanetta and Raven Xavier.