Chapter Six
Morning
It was lucky for Reign that Madam Pomfrey had administered a sleeping potion to her, for if she hadn't, Reign never would have fallen asleep. But she had, and it was the first time she had slept peacefully in almost a week. The potion blocked dreams, and more importantly, nightmares. Her night had been uneventful, and she was most thankful for it.
Reign breathed deep as her mind and body awoke to the morning. The sun squeezed through a gap in the curtains and shone directly at the woman's closed eyes. She squinted and groaned as the light registered through her dark lids. She turned her head to avoid its brilliance, but it didn't help as much as she hoped. So she pulled her sheets over her head and regretted waking up at all. The sheets suffocated her so she threw them off, only to be bombarded by the enemy that was sunlight. She sighed in frustration and sat up. Her body screamed out to her to stop moving so fast and so soon. Every muscle ached. She lifted her hands to rub her eyes of sleep and even that took an enormous amount of energy. Her arms fell to her side when she was through with them. Ignoring her pain, she threw back her covers and dangled her legs off the side of the bed, determined to rid the room of the dreaded sun. She stretched slowly and thoroughly, even flexing her toes to make sure they still existed. Then she sat, for quite awhile, still in the process of becoming fully awake. Sitting, not really wanting to move, with her back bent forward and her hair falling in her face, shielding her view of the floor. Her eyes did not blink; she was lost in a daze. Soon she arched her eyebrows and closed her eyes and breathed deep once more. Her lips twitched and her calves jerked. She tapped her fingers on the mattress and blinked. The light from the window pulled her head toward that direction. It was so bright. She rolled off the bed and staggered toward the source of the tormenting light. But when she reached the spot--instead of drawing the curtains tighter to rid the room of the beam --she threw back the drapes, and the sun streamed into the room, lighting all that faced it and casting shadows on all that defied it. Reign shut her eyes and turned her head away. It took awhile, but she slowly opened them as she became accustomed to the radiance. The world outside her window became clearer with each blink of her eye. The grass was wet from the morning dew, and a light haze drifted above the ground. Birds sang from their nests in the trees, awakening all that heard their songs. A squirrel scampered across the grass, its tail floating ghostly behind it. Reign went one step further and opened the window. A shiver ran down her spine as the cool morning air crept into the room. She hugged herself as goosebumps popped up on her skin, but she held strong and did not close the window. She let go of her body and placed her hands on the sill, breathing in the smells of the morning. The air was crisp and fresh, and it helped to renew her senses. The songs of the birds were louder, but still soothing and pleasant. She could hear the wind rustle the leaves of the trees, and she could see the luminous colors of the sky stretch toward her from the horizon. It was a beautiful morning.
She was interrupted by the sound of a door swinging open and shutting behind her. She spun on her bare feet to meet Madam Pomfrey's disapproving glare. Her arms were crossed and she tapped her foot impatiently.
"You are not fully recovered yet, Reign. I suggest you lie back down." Her patient shuffled back to the bed. She threw herself on top of it, not caring to be under the covers. Poppy patted her legs and she lifted them up into the air as the nurse pulled the sheets back. When Reign lowered her limbs again, the woman pulled the sheets over her and up to her shoulders. "You still need to rest," she said. Reign nodded. Then she yawned. Afterwards she looked Poppy in the eye, and the nurse could sense her eagerness to get out of the Infirmary. She grinned. "Give it a few more hours, then you might be able to leave." Reign smiled. "But only if you stay put and try to sleep." The woman nodded, understanding. Poppy padded the covers and went over to the window. The sunlight disappeared back out the window as she drew the curtains closed. The room fell dark once more, but a faint glow could still be seen from beneath the drapes. The day would go on, even without Reign.
***
Severus Snape paced around his office. It had been a very long night for him. Unlike Reign, he did not have Poppy's miracle sleeping potion to help him sleep. He had tossed and turned all night. And he thought all night. It was dangerous for him to think these days, especially when he was thinking about Her. His lack of sleep was evident from his appearance. His raven hair fell into his eyes, and his sore muscles refused to remove it. His normally correct and graceful posture was missing as he slunk back and forth through the room. His skin was even more pale than usual, and great bags hung under his tired eyes. But still he paced.
He felt as if he was going to pass out; he had been thinking for too long. His head pounded. What was going to happen now? What was going to happen now that She was back? She paralyzed him when She came into the Hall the previous day. She looked awful, near death. She had died. But he couldn't move. He couldn't run to Her and hold Her and tell Her everything was going to be OK. He was too shocked to do anything. And in a very deep corner of his mind, a voice was telling him that he didn't want to do anything. A part of him enjoyed seeing Her suffer. After all, it was only fair after what She did to him. It was a horrible thing to think, but he couldn't help it. He had been thinking too long.
His thoughts were disrupted as a glass beaker fell to the floor, shattering his stream of consciousness. He jumped back as the glass pieces flew in his direction, determined to embed themselves in his leg. He pulled his wand from his robes and waved the mess away. Had he knocked that over? Of course he had, there was no one else in the room. He hadn't even noticed he had bumped into anything. Yes, thinking was definitely dangerous for him.
He stood in the middle of his office, his wand dangling loosely from his right hand. He was half-tempted to walk over to his desk and pull out his whiskey bottle. He shook his head and cursed himself. He needed to pull himself together. Going for alcohol at ten o' clock in the morning was definitely a sign of weakness. And Severus Snape was not a weak man. Besides, he had a class to teach in fifteen minutes. That was just what he needed. Some whiney annoying first years that had no more knowledge of potion making or the desire to learn about it than a rock. He sighed. He was a mess. What was happening to him? Was it Her? His upper lip curled. He would not let it be Her. He shoved his wand back in his robes and stalked toward the door.
He would not let Her get to him.
He slammed the door behind him, and a few more beakers fell to the ground. But he did not turn back. He would not clean up the mess.
