AN: It's finally here, and I know that this doesn't seem long, but this is the conclusion to part one. I can finally write the act two about the Yule Ball and finally what everyone wants. It's not going to come easy, though, so please. Oh, btw, the reason why these two were so late was b/c there's two chapters for the price of er...one...okay then. Ttyl, people. Toodles.
Chapter Seven: Things Aren't the Way They Seem
Emilia awoke to find herself in a dark room, and covered in heavy blankets. Her eyes came into focus rather slowly, and she found that the entire room was lit with rays of moonlight, shining through the window above her and on the other side of the room. She could see the entire room quite clearly: it irked her how eerie it was looking around the room, propped up on her good shoulder. She could tell that she was in the Infirmary; she'd been there many times before. Once, as a suggestion from her head of House to undertake a dietary movement and another three times when she fainted from anorexia. She did not have fond memories of this place.
She sat up, or at least attempted to. Her shoulder's pain was now full of force, a stabbing pain. Apparently, whatever Snape gave her did not work. Or maybe it was totally counter-acted when she took off the bandage, and in turn took off the healing medium.
Emilia pulled off the covers, and stepped onto the ground. The entire room had a chilly feel to it. Emilia wanted to know why she here. Who brought her here? The only thing she remembered was trying to slug Snape...then her head was bobbing loosely for a while, and then she remembered something with a burning sensation forced down her throat. She remembered sputtering, and then a loud swooshing noise. She assumed that was the air escaping the pillow as her head fell on it.
She glanced to her left. A rigid body was sitting in the chair beside her bed. The head was slackly lying on his chest, with his arms crossed. It looked like he was sleeping. Emilia peered closer. Yes, it definitely was a man...and there was no mistaking that black hair. It was Severus Snape.
Emilia put a finger to her chin in amusement. He'd decided to stay at the Infirmary with her. How...almost touching. She would have been more touched if she didn't remember that nasty comment he made to her before she fell into his arms...my god, she supposed, breathing in sharply. It'd been so long since she'd felt that kind of tenderness. What was happening to her?
Why did she feel...almost safe, because Snape had watched over her? Was she really that thick-minded? Could she be...possibly...did she have something for him other than hatred? Was it...? She didn't even want to think about it. The thought--this very thought--had occurred to her, earlier...was it this year--just a few months ago? She didn't feel anything. At least, she tried not to--because if she did, then she'd be vulnerable. Emilia had enough experience with life to know vulnerability was not an endearing quality and it was not some control to bestow upon anyone.
She must admit, she did feel much better. She ran her fingers through her hair, which was knotty and uncombed. She suppressed an irritable sigh, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Gathering up a red and green blanket (complementary for next Sunday's Christmas holiday), and stood up and opened it wide. Emilia lifted it up, and covered Snape with it. He shifted in his position, and Emilia almost stepped back in surprise. Seeing that he wasn't going to wake up--at least, for now, anyway--she finished covering him up by bringing the blanket up to his shoulders. At least, if he was going to actually sit next to her bed, she could at least make sure he wasn't going to freeze. It was winter, and the castle was naturally cold.
He shifted again, and then he opened his black eyes. Emilia froze, as she was extremely aware that she was leaning over him, putting the blanket on. Her hands gripped the edge of the fabric, which were perch precariously over his shoulders. Emilia felt her hands drop the fabric immediately, and she took a quick step back. She didn't say anything.
Snape sat up straighter, and unfolded his arms silently. "What are you doing?" he asked softly.
"I was just covering you up, what did it look like?" she replied, her voice quiet but somewhat harsh. "And I want to know what's going on. Why did I have another episode like that again? Was it from the potions?"
Snape stood up, gathering the blanket that had barely any time to collect heat. He tossed it on the bed carelessly, and covered his mouth in a yawn. "I think you may have had a more serious reaction to the Soothing Solution," he said.
"Is that all?" she snapped. "I hope you know what it's like to feel like your insides are being turned out."
Snape looked at her. "I do, and I also want to let you know that you didn't eat and you didn't sleep properly, which added to the problems, you idiot girl."
She bristled. "I'm not an idiot girl," she whispered tensely, clenching both of her fists. "It was your fault I missed lunch and tea and din--"
"It is your fault you missed dinner," he interrupted. "I think I've got at least that one down. And because of this little stunt, I now, under the Headmaster's orders, have to do all of the stupid Pepper-Up Potions myself. I do hope you are happy about this."
"Ecstatic," she sneered. "You're most welcome."
They stood there silent for a moment. Snape shifted, and crossed his arms, while Emilia looked away, and sat on the bed. She unconsciously yawned. It must have been...what, two, maybe three in the morning? The moon was high, but not at it's highest. It felt very eerie in there.
Emilia looked down at her hands. There was something that she needed to know. "Severus," she said slowly, "why do you hate me so?" Normally, this wouldn't have bothered her, but for some reason...it mattered. It actually mattered why.
Snape looked at her quickly, turning his head. "What?"
Emilia clasped her hands, and took a breath. "Never mind," she said at last. She didn't want to know anymore. She knew that he hated her for what she was. Emilia didn't need him to confirm that; his snappish, "What?" solved it all.
But not who--not who she was. Emilia sighed, and pulled her covered around her. She fell back asleep instantly, leaving Snape standing there, pondering in the dark.
He turned around and sat down, and looked at Emilia's sleeping body. He watched her, again, like he'd done before. Severus felt so damn guilty, for putting her here like this. From her description of her problems, bed rest was going to be implemented. Severus recalled the conversation with Madame Pomfrey after she fell asleep. She had told him that along with a low blood sugar count, she was suffering severe sleeping problems and borderline anorexia. Again, she had said. Severus had no idea that she was like that again. She also said something about emotional distress. After all, he supposed much longer afterwards; her father did just die today.
But Madame Pomfrey said something about his being a problem for a while. What other stress did this young teacher have to endure? It couldn't be possibly all him; after all, she'd been dealing with people like him for a long time. She keeps telling Minerva this, at any rate. What other things were going on in this girl's life?
Severus looked down at her, again. He remembered doing this when Madame Pomfrey was explaining all that she found. Only to ask what kind of potion to use; she'd really hadn't seen this case in a while. He nearly laughed...what kind of potion to use exactly. It was that kind of help that got her here in the first place. Then she suggested he stay with her, because she'd gotten really no sleep since the flu season started.
His head had turned quite sharply at that. Stay with this wench the night, to make sure that she was all right? The thought never occurred to him then--the thought that he should stay--but he was taken aback. He reluctantly agreed, noticing that Madame Pomfrey wouldn't take anything else but yes.
So, here he sat, for three hours. He just sat there, looking about the window above her bed, quietly thinking. He'd really didn't get around to having a good thought in a while; ever since the school year started, it'd been quite a whirl of time passing quickly as wind. Severus never suspected that this girl would be such an opponent...she actually fought back with him.
He never really fought with her because he wanted to inflict misery onto her. Otherwise, he'd have done that with Lupin two years before. Severus enjoyed watching her get angry, and come back at him with quite sarcastic comments. He thought it great fun to finally have someone who wasn't such a sore loser when it came to quirky comebacks.
His mind drifted back to the dungeon...and he frowned. Why did he offer to help her? It must have been guilt. Truly, he had never really hurt anyone before, unless you count the initiation into the Death Eater crowd. Which brought up even more questions: how did she know that he was a Death Eater? He'd never seen her before this year, and he never knew her father at all...just their reputation.
And the way that she was afraid of the gel. She was actually acting meek, like she didn't want him to touch her. That made his stomach churn...was he really that bad of a person? He never really saw himself as a terrible person, only one that wanted to be left alone. And when he did finally get her to...show her bruise...it was so big Severus nearly gasped. He inflicted a bruise the size of a baseball on her shoulder. How could he have been that angry? But what irked him the most was how she fell nearly instantly relaxed after he had set to work.
And when he held her...it had been so long since he'd held a woman, and then, again in the hall. It was so comforting to have her in his arms. Almost too comforting. It scared him. Did he have feelings for this young woman?
There were too many unanswered questions, he thought darkly--too many.
The week of holiday passed quickly; it seemed the entire school wanted to stay for break. Simply because of the Yule Ball, but it was rather unusual all in all. They were also making notice of the absence of their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, who, after the incidents with the potions, had been confined to her room with bed rest. Emilia absolutely hated this; she could only go out and walk around a night, when Madame Pomfrey wouldn't be on her tail.
The next day was Saturday, the Yule Ball. The amount of chatter was quite thunderous Friday evening, when Emilia finally walked into the Great Hall for the first dinner she'd had in a week with company. She was still pale, but she was much healthier, none-the-less.
Emilia took her seat, and rested her chin on her hands. Dumbledore walked in, his unusually festive robes billowing out behind him. "Ah, Emilia," he said, as soon as he saw her, "I'm guessing you are much better?"
"Of course," she said quietly. In that entire week by herself, except for visits from Minerva (they were on speaking terms again) and Pomfrey, she had too much time to ponder. She thought about her father, mostly. Emilia was terribly sick with pain from her father's unexpected and untimely death, and she still wasn't over it. She also thought a lot about Severus, too. Emilia hadn't seen him since last Sunday.
About them--what was going on with them? Was there anything? Curious, she had thought many times before. It was all quite odd--she didn't know what to make of it.
Dumbledore didn't know how to respond to that. So he didn't, and glanced at the ceiling, which was swirling with a black and purple effect, from the over-crowded clouds. She felt bad for skiving off Dumbledore like that, so she tried again.
"So, then, the Yule Ball is tomorrow?" she asked brightly. Dumbledore nodded.
"Are you sure you are up to it?" he asked tentatively.
"Yes, I am," she replied firmly. "I'm going and I'm going to have fun." She laughed.
The evening meal appeared, and Minerva walked in. Emilia noticed that Severus was not at dinner. She wondered why this was. Minerva sat, and she turned to Emilia.
"Emilia! It's a nice change to see you back here," she said happily, piling food on her plate.
Emilia did the same, and smiled. "All the hustle and bustle of Hogwarts...I think I missed it!" she replied somewhat dryly. Smiling, Emilia added, "Quite the turn out for the Yule Ball, this is."
"Yes," she replied. "Fourth years and above. I didn't realize that there were so many students above that! All of my Gryffindors stayed," she added proudly, "and Sprout said that most of her Hufflepuffs did as well. I think Albus is going to make this an honorary tradition in memory of Cedric Diggory--or at least, a happy tradition for all that's to come."
Emilia looked at her plate. She didn't know what to say to that. So she didn't reply. The two of them talked a lot over the last week. Emilia now knew Minerva like a sister. It was almost comforting, finally having a proper friend for once.
"Er, sorry," Minerva said, and they finished their meal in silence. Tomorrow the Yule Ball would arrive--and when it did, it would be quite a shock for all of them.
- 2 -
Chapter Seven: Things Aren't the Way They Seem
Emilia awoke to find herself in a dark room, and covered in heavy blankets. Her eyes came into focus rather slowly, and she found that the entire room was lit with rays of moonlight, shining through the window above her and on the other side of the room. She could see the entire room quite clearly: it irked her how eerie it was looking around the room, propped up on her good shoulder. She could tell that she was in the Infirmary; she'd been there many times before. Once, as a suggestion from her head of House to undertake a dietary movement and another three times when she fainted from anorexia. She did not have fond memories of this place.
She sat up, or at least attempted to. Her shoulder's pain was now full of force, a stabbing pain. Apparently, whatever Snape gave her did not work. Or maybe it was totally counter-acted when she took off the bandage, and in turn took off the healing medium.
Emilia pulled off the covers, and stepped onto the ground. The entire room had a chilly feel to it. Emilia wanted to know why she here. Who brought her here? The only thing she remembered was trying to slug Snape...then her head was bobbing loosely for a while, and then she remembered something with a burning sensation forced down her throat. She remembered sputtering, and then a loud swooshing noise. She assumed that was the air escaping the pillow as her head fell on it.
She glanced to her left. A rigid body was sitting in the chair beside her bed. The head was slackly lying on his chest, with his arms crossed. It looked like he was sleeping. Emilia peered closer. Yes, it definitely was a man...and there was no mistaking that black hair. It was Severus Snape.
Emilia put a finger to her chin in amusement. He'd decided to stay at the Infirmary with her. How...almost touching. She would have been more touched if she didn't remember that nasty comment he made to her before she fell into his arms...my god, she supposed, breathing in sharply. It'd been so long since she'd felt that kind of tenderness. What was happening to her?
Why did she feel...almost safe, because Snape had watched over her? Was she really that thick-minded? Could she be...possibly...did she have something for him other than hatred? Was it...? She didn't even want to think about it. The thought--this very thought--had occurred to her, earlier...was it this year--just a few months ago? She didn't feel anything. At least, she tried not to--because if she did, then she'd be vulnerable. Emilia had enough experience with life to know vulnerability was not an endearing quality and it was not some control to bestow upon anyone.
She must admit, she did feel much better. She ran her fingers through her hair, which was knotty and uncombed. She suppressed an irritable sigh, and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Gathering up a red and green blanket (complementary for next Sunday's Christmas holiday), and stood up and opened it wide. Emilia lifted it up, and covered Snape with it. He shifted in his position, and Emilia almost stepped back in surprise. Seeing that he wasn't going to wake up--at least, for now, anyway--she finished covering him up by bringing the blanket up to his shoulders. At least, if he was going to actually sit next to her bed, she could at least make sure he wasn't going to freeze. It was winter, and the castle was naturally cold.
He shifted again, and then he opened his black eyes. Emilia froze, as she was extremely aware that she was leaning over him, putting the blanket on. Her hands gripped the edge of the fabric, which were perch precariously over his shoulders. Emilia felt her hands drop the fabric immediately, and she took a quick step back. She didn't say anything.
Snape sat up straighter, and unfolded his arms silently. "What are you doing?" he asked softly.
"I was just covering you up, what did it look like?" she replied, her voice quiet but somewhat harsh. "And I want to know what's going on. Why did I have another episode like that again? Was it from the potions?"
Snape stood up, gathering the blanket that had barely any time to collect heat. He tossed it on the bed carelessly, and covered his mouth in a yawn. "I think you may have had a more serious reaction to the Soothing Solution," he said.
"Is that all?" she snapped. "I hope you know what it's like to feel like your insides are being turned out."
Snape looked at her. "I do, and I also want to let you know that you didn't eat and you didn't sleep properly, which added to the problems, you idiot girl."
She bristled. "I'm not an idiot girl," she whispered tensely, clenching both of her fists. "It was your fault I missed lunch and tea and din--"
"It is your fault you missed dinner," he interrupted. "I think I've got at least that one down. And because of this little stunt, I now, under the Headmaster's orders, have to do all of the stupid Pepper-Up Potions myself. I do hope you are happy about this."
"Ecstatic," she sneered. "You're most welcome."
They stood there silent for a moment. Snape shifted, and crossed his arms, while Emilia looked away, and sat on the bed. She unconsciously yawned. It must have been...what, two, maybe three in the morning? The moon was high, but not at it's highest. It felt very eerie in there.
Emilia looked down at her hands. There was something that she needed to know. "Severus," she said slowly, "why do you hate me so?" Normally, this wouldn't have bothered her, but for some reason...it mattered. It actually mattered why.
Snape looked at her quickly, turning his head. "What?"
Emilia clasped her hands, and took a breath. "Never mind," she said at last. She didn't want to know anymore. She knew that he hated her for what she was. Emilia didn't need him to confirm that; his snappish, "What?" solved it all.
But not who--not who she was. Emilia sighed, and pulled her covered around her. She fell back asleep instantly, leaving Snape standing there, pondering in the dark.
He turned around and sat down, and looked at Emilia's sleeping body. He watched her, again, like he'd done before. Severus felt so damn guilty, for putting her here like this. From her description of her problems, bed rest was going to be implemented. Severus recalled the conversation with Madame Pomfrey after she fell asleep. She had told him that along with a low blood sugar count, she was suffering severe sleeping problems and borderline anorexia. Again, she had said. Severus had no idea that she was like that again. She also said something about emotional distress. After all, he supposed much longer afterwards; her father did just die today.
But Madame Pomfrey said something about his being a problem for a while. What other stress did this young teacher have to endure? It couldn't be possibly all him; after all, she'd been dealing with people like him for a long time. She keeps telling Minerva this, at any rate. What other things were going on in this girl's life?
Severus looked down at her, again. He remembered doing this when Madame Pomfrey was explaining all that she found. Only to ask what kind of potion to use; she'd really hadn't seen this case in a while. He nearly laughed...what kind of potion to use exactly. It was that kind of help that got her here in the first place. Then she suggested he stay with her, because she'd gotten really no sleep since the flu season started.
His head had turned quite sharply at that. Stay with this wench the night, to make sure that she was all right? The thought never occurred to him then--the thought that he should stay--but he was taken aback. He reluctantly agreed, noticing that Madame Pomfrey wouldn't take anything else but yes.
So, here he sat, for three hours. He just sat there, looking about the window above her bed, quietly thinking. He'd really didn't get around to having a good thought in a while; ever since the school year started, it'd been quite a whirl of time passing quickly as wind. Severus never suspected that this girl would be such an opponent...she actually fought back with him.
He never really fought with her because he wanted to inflict misery onto her. Otherwise, he'd have done that with Lupin two years before. Severus enjoyed watching her get angry, and come back at him with quite sarcastic comments. He thought it great fun to finally have someone who wasn't such a sore loser when it came to quirky comebacks.
His mind drifted back to the dungeon...and he frowned. Why did he offer to help her? It must have been guilt. Truly, he had never really hurt anyone before, unless you count the initiation into the Death Eater crowd. Which brought up even more questions: how did she know that he was a Death Eater? He'd never seen her before this year, and he never knew her father at all...just their reputation.
And the way that she was afraid of the gel. She was actually acting meek, like she didn't want him to touch her. That made his stomach churn...was he really that bad of a person? He never really saw himself as a terrible person, only one that wanted to be left alone. And when he did finally get her to...show her bruise...it was so big Severus nearly gasped. He inflicted a bruise the size of a baseball on her shoulder. How could he have been that angry? But what irked him the most was how she fell nearly instantly relaxed after he had set to work.
And when he held her...it had been so long since he'd held a woman, and then, again in the hall. It was so comforting to have her in his arms. Almost too comforting. It scared him. Did he have feelings for this young woman?
There were too many unanswered questions, he thought darkly--too many.
The week of holiday passed quickly; it seemed the entire school wanted to stay for break. Simply because of the Yule Ball, but it was rather unusual all in all. They were also making notice of the absence of their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, who, after the incidents with the potions, had been confined to her room with bed rest. Emilia absolutely hated this; she could only go out and walk around a night, when Madame Pomfrey wouldn't be on her tail.
The next day was Saturday, the Yule Ball. The amount of chatter was quite thunderous Friday evening, when Emilia finally walked into the Great Hall for the first dinner she'd had in a week with company. She was still pale, but she was much healthier, none-the-less.
Emilia took her seat, and rested her chin on her hands. Dumbledore walked in, his unusually festive robes billowing out behind him. "Ah, Emilia," he said, as soon as he saw her, "I'm guessing you are much better?"
"Of course," she said quietly. In that entire week by herself, except for visits from Minerva (they were on speaking terms again) and Pomfrey, she had too much time to ponder. She thought about her father, mostly. Emilia was terribly sick with pain from her father's unexpected and untimely death, and she still wasn't over it. She also thought a lot about Severus, too. Emilia hadn't seen him since last Sunday.
About them--what was going on with them? Was there anything? Curious, she had thought many times before. It was all quite odd--she didn't know what to make of it.
Dumbledore didn't know how to respond to that. So he didn't, and glanced at the ceiling, which was swirling with a black and purple effect, from the over-crowded clouds. She felt bad for skiving off Dumbledore like that, so she tried again.
"So, then, the Yule Ball is tomorrow?" she asked brightly. Dumbledore nodded.
"Are you sure you are up to it?" he asked tentatively.
"Yes, I am," she replied firmly. "I'm going and I'm going to have fun." She laughed.
The evening meal appeared, and Minerva walked in. Emilia noticed that Severus was not at dinner. She wondered why this was. Minerva sat, and she turned to Emilia.
"Emilia! It's a nice change to see you back here," she said happily, piling food on her plate.
Emilia did the same, and smiled. "All the hustle and bustle of Hogwarts...I think I missed it!" she replied somewhat dryly. Smiling, Emilia added, "Quite the turn out for the Yule Ball, this is."
"Yes," she replied. "Fourth years and above. I didn't realize that there were so many students above that! All of my Gryffindors stayed," she added proudly, "and Sprout said that most of her Hufflepuffs did as well. I think Albus is going to make this an honorary tradition in memory of Cedric Diggory--or at least, a happy tradition for all that's to come."
Emilia looked at her plate. She didn't know what to say to that. So she didn't reply. The two of them talked a lot over the last week. Emilia now knew Minerva like a sister. It was almost comforting, finally having a proper friend for once.
"Er, sorry," Minerva said, and they finished their meal in silence. Tomorrow the Yule Ball would arrive--and when it did, it would be quite a shock for all of them.
- 2 -