Author's note: Thanks go to Romm and shasjin-saber. And these thanks are much bigger than the usual ones because this story is now terribly off-canon. So… *huggles her latest reviews*
Chapter 27: The Past is Gone
No
regrets or promises
The past is gone
But you can still be free
If time will set you free
—Savage Garden: You can still be free
After a few seconds, the world slammed back into focus. She found herself back in Dumbledore's present office. She could only tell so because Black, Lupin and Fletcher were there.
Nobody spoke at first. They all just looked at her. Dumbledore walked to his desk, opened a box that was sitting there—it was the same one he had pulled the time-turner out of seventeen years ago—and this time he pulled out a necklace—with a moon-shaped pendant dangling from it.
As she saw this, her hands flew to her throat. Her necklace was not there.
Dumbledore smiled and she couldn't help smiling back. "That's how I knew. Well, that and the fact that you were there that night and had given my cloak to Harry, that is. But when the little girl you once were walked up to me and asked me to help her split the perfectly round pendant in that particular way—I already knew what it was supposed to look like, since I had one part—and you chose exactly that part for yourself, I knew it had been you. I had suspected it for years, more than suspected actually, but that had been the day I knew for certain. One hundred percent."
"I hadn't even noticed that I'd lost it," Sariss mused softly.
"You had other things on your mind, after all. You look terrible if I dare say so. I can't remember telling you that so long ago—but I might just be getting old and forgetful…"
"You dare say so. It must be true. If I look the way I feel… No comment on that. May I have my pendant back?"
"Yes, of course." Dumbledore handed it to her. He had repaired the fragile lock. So Sariss put the chain carefully into its respective place. She hadn't taken it off for how long? Fifteen years or so? "Little Harry almost wouldn't let us take it from him. He was clutching it very tightly in his small fist."
"All of this was so weird," Sariss muttered. "Like a dream. Like a nightmare…"
Sirius Black walked towards her then. He must recognize her now that she was sooty and her clothes were quite a bit worse for wear—literally—the blood on her face. "So it was you. I wouldn't believe Dumbledore at first when he asked me if I had seen someone who didn't belong there. I thought I'd seen you before when you came in but I wasn't sure if it really was you. You looked as though a house had come down on you, just like you do now, and your eyes were different—."
"What?" Sariss asked.
What's wrong with my eyes?
Yeah, what's wrong with our eyes?
I don't have the slightest idea.
"—they were as they are now."
"What's wrong with my eyes? Dumbledore—I mean the past Dumbledore—wasn't commentating on them at—."
"Sariss," the headmaster began. "It seems that Avada Kedavra affects your eyes when—."
"What's up with my eyes?" Sariss repeated.
"They're green," Black said.
"I know that," Sariss snapped. "They always were mostly greenish."
"No, my dear," Dumbledore said. "It seems that the curse made them really green, almost as green as Mr Potter's—."
Black interrupted him. "But Harry always had green eyes, just like his mother. Even before the curse hit him, they were green. And I can't see why they should turn green simply because of watching—."
"That might be the reason why we didn't notice that change," the headmaster interrupted Black in turn.
"I need to see my eyes," Sariss said, raising her wand hand to conjure up a mirror.
Black, however, grabbed her wrist. "Oh my goodness." He wiped the blood away to see better.
"Ouch!" She winced and made to pull her hand out of his grasp.
"Look at that! A lightning bolt scar…" he whispered in awe.
Fletcher and Lupin rushed to her side, too. "How…" they began as one.
"I already said that Avada Kedavra apparently affects the eyes. Had you let me continue I would have been able to tell you that Sariss had been hit with the curse," Dumbledore explained. "Isn't that so, my dear?"
"Quite so, gentlemen," Sariss said, stunned that Dumbledore seemed to know everything without having to be told. "Voldemort hurled the curse at me, when I dashed into the room. I tried to shield myself—stupid thing to even try, now that I think about it (which I quite obviously didn't)—and it bounced off my hand. It hit him, but didn't hurt him. At least not obviously. Then he cast another curse at Harry—and it bounced off him, too… The rest is history."
Black pulled out a handkerchief and brought it to her face, while Lupin seemed completely speechless, a very sad look on his face.
Sariss realized something. "Hallowe'en night 1981 was a full moon," she stated softly.
"I curse the day the werewolf bit me. Everything would have turned out different if I had been there," he whispered bitterly. "I would have been there if—."
"I was there, Mr Lupin," Sariss interrupted him. "I don't think you could have saved them. You would have died along with them. But you could have beaten some sense into the head of our Azkaban convict here." Fletcher sniggered at that. The man's sense of humour had always been pure acid. "You appear so calm compared to him and most other people," she said, flinching as Black touched the wound on the side of her head.
"You must have bumped your head really badly," he explained unnecessarily and rubbed her cheek with the hanky. If Sariss squirted, she could see that the cloth was stained dark red by now.
Black continued. "I was never able to thank you for trying to keep me from doing something stupid. I should have listened…"
Sariss pulled Sirius Black's hands away to keep him from rubbing her face so furiously.
"I would have expressed it clearer if I could," she said, thinking she'd keep him from finishing the task he'd set himself—namely rubbing her cheek in a way that would soon make sure that the blood was not only on it but bleeding from it—by simply speaking what was on her mind. "I hoped you'd figure it out on your own. I thought I had interfered too much already. I knew what would happen in the future but since nobody knew what really happened… I wanted to…. I'm sorry. I failed."
"You tried. Nothing you could have said would have kept me from doing what I did. I was young and foolish and only thinking about how to get Peter back for betraying us all. For betraying James and Lily and for making me believe that Remus had been the traitor and for making Remus and the rest of the wizarding world believe that I had been."
"Can't be changed," Lupin said quietly. "Some things are bound to happen no matter what you do to try and make them undone."
He should know. Being bitten by a werewolf was one of those things. It just happened. Making friends and losing them again… It just happened. Especially when the times were dark…
Some things are simply destined to be, no matter how much it hurts.
Apparently, Sariss had just recently developed a deeper understanding of Divination. Some things were meant to be. And it was good to know what might be coming. That's what crystal balls, stargazing and prophecies were there for…
"Now, little one, you should know that people with a lightning bolt scar tend to become quite famous," Fletcher said casually. "Are you up to photo sessions and autograph requests?"
Sariss rolled her eyes. "I think I can live without that. Thank you very much. And there's no one who knows about my involvement. It was the little boy who became famous. My intervention was just a twist of fate or something. A very nasty twist. At least for me."
"Now that I think about it… You made the house cave in, didn't you?" he smirked. "In retrospect, it looked like your handiwork…"
"Would you please stop it, Fletcher? You're getting really annoying, rubbing it in, you know?" Sariss said. "My… er… tendency to make those things happen is really not very funny. So stop it before I accidentally make something explode—right at you."
"Someone has to be the annoying guy. Sirius is the innocent convict, the guilt-ridden guy, Albus is the boss, Remus is the quiet and sensible type and I'm the one trying to improve the mood and getting shot because of it."
"You've been working around Muggles too often, Fletcher. Spent too much time in movie theatres, didn't you?" Black grinned suddenly. Apparently, he could take a joke about things like that by now. And a smile tugged at the corners of Lupin's mouth, too.
They must be used to Fletcher's sense of humour. It took a while but… well… this was what Fletcher was like when there wasn't something very serious happening—like the occasion Sariss had met him first. When he had taken care of her mother's dead body, carrying it away. The expression on his face back then… His sense of humour helped him keep his sanity in situations like this, helped him push those images in the back of his mind where they wouldn't haunt him…
He simply shrugged at Black's comment.
Dumbledore interrupted the bickering. "Sariss," he said calmly.
He approached her, took her left hand—her wand hand—turned it around and ran a finger along the wound that would become a scar if it wasn't treated with a proper Healing Spell or Potion very soon. "I think you should keep the scar. I said this once before: They can come in handy sometimes like the one near my knee—looks like a plan of the London Underground… But do not think you failed. Now we know what happened that fateful Hallowe'en night. This scar now connects you to Harry somehow. Everything is as it should be… By the way, my past self has been very pleased to meet you… very pleased indeed…" he gently patted her hand, smiling as he did so.
"That I wouldn't turn out a Dark Witch?" Sariss asked.
"Yes… Among other things…" the old man's smile broadened a bit.
"Perhaps you should go see Madam Pomfrey," Remus Lupin spoke up once more.
"I'm alright, honestly," Sariss answered, and it was true. "I'm just still a bit confused about this whole time-turner thingy. I'll never quite understand how the past and the future intersect." She smirked at Dumbledore and shrugged. "It almost looks as though you were the only one to grasp the meaning of the time-space-continuum or whatever it's called."
He just smiled. Typical. This is what Dumbledore does… Smile. Smile and twinkle… But then he replied anyway.
"I understand that this interlude has mixed up your… schedule quite a bit… You and Severus will have to catch up on it again, I presume." Sariss rolled her eyes at the look Dumbledore gave her over the rim of his glasses. She just couldn't get used to the fact that Dumbledore regarded her and Severus as an item (which they actually were…); that he had—as she strongly suspected—had quite something to do with all those accidents, for example the mistletoe and the dance. That would be so like him… Nothing in this castle happened without him at least suspecting something. He had known it since when she had met him in the past. He had known since then that Sariss and Severus would need each other one day. Sariss had more than implied it to him herself and he had just been trying to speed things up a bit… "He will also be glad that the riddles are being solved now."
Severus must have told him that someone had been there—and that certain someone had Stunned him, preventing him from entering the first floor room…
Oh joy. You do realize that Severus is going to want to be told the whole story?
I do, unfortunately. But I've got to tell him anyway. It's a matter of trust. And there are some things I want to ask him…
Like why he had been there?
Among other things… And there's already some kind of secret that I'm keeping from him and he knows it. He stopped asking me when I told him to, remember?
The prophecy?
Right.
But it's not really a secret, is it?
Depends…
So you have come to the conclusion that it really could—
I'm not going to fill anybody in on my guesswork. They'd think I had gone insane if I did. I think so myself…
"You know, I really get more tired of secrets by the minute. Unless they are my own, of course," she said out-loud.
"No more secrets to be kept from you on my part. And for once you're the one who knows more than Severus does…"
Sariss sighed inwardly. Was there anything you could keep from Dumbledore? He seemed to at least suspect everything…
And there was something else… Did she just imagine all those little emphasises and insinuations regarding the infamous 'Severus and Sariss'-thingy or was Dumbledore actually enjoying to, subtly, rub the whole… situation… with Severus in her face? Not that she would mind… Dumbledore was worse than a father… And far better at the same time…
She turned to leave.
"Good day, gentlemen, or is it already evening?"
"It's something in-between I'd say," Dumbledore smiled, his usual sparkle in his eyes. "You weren't gone for very long after all. However, Severus might be getting worried about you if you do not show up again soon."
"Well, then, I'll leave the gentlemen free to attend to their business—important business, that is, isn't it?" The assembled people nodded gravely. "I hope to see you again under more pleasant circumstances, Messrs Lupin, Black, Fletcher." She curtly nodded at either one of them.
"I don't understand what she sees in him—," Sirius muttered to Remus Lupin, but Sariss heard it.
"I don't understand what he sees in me," she said, biting her lip. She knew her eyes must be glittering, her cheeks going a, perhaps, lovely telltale shade of pink, as she said this.
Lupin shrugged. "Must be love, huh?"
Sirius flinched visibly. Apparently, 'Snape' and 'love' were two words that hadn't occurred to him to be used collectively. Sariss had to bite back laughter at that. She had a distinct feeling that there were quite some other words that had occurred to neither Lupin nor Black in connection with 'Snape.' If they knew…
That thought brought her back to the subject at hand. "Alright then. Gentlemen, it has been a pleasure meeting you—" she glanced at Fletcher and Black, "—once again. Oh and… I'd rather not use the fireplace now, if you don't mind, Professor Dumbledore, I really do hate Floo powder. I'd rather walk back—down to the dungeons," she drawled the last few words only to demonstrate that she had noticed Dumbledore's innuendoes. "After all, it has been seventeen years since I last saw Severus…" And to herself she added, 'And I learnt quite a lot about him in the meantime… No more secrets… This man has already been a walking and talking secret seventeen years ago. But I have a few theories… I wonder if I hit the nail on the head…'
She turned, walked towards the door, and as she turned the handle, she nodded to Dumbledore who nodded back and turned towards the three men, who had very expectant expressions on their faces, beginning, to speak. "Now that we have secured the past we must take care of the present and future. I'd like to hear your reports, later. But first, I have something to report. It has come to my knowledge…"
~*~*~
Sariss walked along the corridors, down the staircases, skipping the trick steps automatically, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. Funny how everything in this castle changed so much yet the trick steps stayed firmly where they were…
After a few minutes, she reached the door to Severus's chambers. Taking a deep breath, she entered and found him in his study. He sat behind his desk, absorbed in a book, a thoughtful expression on his face, his chin resting on his fist. As she entered the room, he looked up.
Sariss suddenly realized that she must look pretty dreadful, even though the blood should have been wiped away quite nicely. Her hand had stopped bleeding in Dumbledore's office already; the wound hadn't been too deep. It had just been bleeding quite badly when she had been injured; it had looked worse than it actually was.
Severus jumped to his feet at the sight of her. The book he had been reading fell to the ground with a dull thud as he made his way around his desk towards her.
"Sariss! What have you done now? You couldn't have been gone for more than two hours. Less, if you ask me…" He smoothed her hair back from her face. Apparently, there must still be some dried blood on her face—and there was the thing with her eyes. She'd completely forgotten about them with all those other things she had on her mind. "What happened in Dumbledore's office? Are you injured? Shall I—," he asked gravely.
"It's nothing, really," she quickly interrupted him. "The only thing that's a bit worse for wear is my hand, but—," she stopped talking when Severus reached for her hand. She hastily drew it away.
"What is it now?" Severus sounded exasperated. No wonder when one kept in mind the last time she'd drawn her hand away, flinched as he'd touched her…
Sariss shook her head and gave him a slight smile to indicate that it had nothing to do with him.
"What… What's happened to your eyes?" he stuttered. "They—."
"Severus," she said calmly. "Sit down." She walked towards the settee, sat down herself and indicated the empty space next to her. "Come on. I'll explain everything that has happened…"
She reached out her hand to him. He walked towards her, took her hand—her right hand; the one without the scar—and let himself be drawn down onto the settee.
"So? What happened in Dumbledore's office?"
"A great part of what happened, didn't happen in his office…" she began, thinking hard how she should put the events into words. "I missed you," she said finally, gently stroking his hand. He had so beautiful hands, hands she hadn't seen or held for seventeen years if one liked to split hairs…
"You've been gone for hardly an hour, Sariss," he said in a voice that made clear that he was just about to believe she'd lost her mind.
"No," she said. "For you it may have been only an hour. For me it was seventeen years backwards and seventeen years forwards again." She could see it dawning on him.
"You used a time-turner to travel back in time? To… seventeen years ago? To…"
"The night Voldemort fell."
"You couldn't have been there. I would have seen you…" he began, but then he shook his head. "No, I wouldn't. I didn't make it. I tried to warn Lily, but just as I wanted to climb up the stairs I was Stunned by a…"
Sariss could see the pieces of the puzzle falling into place on Severus Snape's face. "It was you!" He jumped up and started pacing back and forth, as he said this. "You did it, didn't you? You Stunned me! Why did you do this? I might have saved her, saved them both!" He ran his hands through his hair.
"You couldn't." Sariss stood up, too, following him. Back and forth. Back and forth; with long strides. "You would have died if I hadn't come and Stunned you before—."
"You don't know that!" he shouted.
"I do know it!" she shouted back and grabbed him firmly by his arm so he would finally stop this incredibly annoying back and forth business. And then she lifted her hand, the one with the wound that would become a lightning bolt shaped scar, and revealed it to him. A look of shock but also understanding crossed his face. "See?" she said softly. "If you had entered that room he would have killed you. He would have killed me, too, if my mother hadn't died for me, if he hadn't—."
"Provided you with the power to withstand Avada Kedavra much better than he himself ever could," Severus Snape whispered, quoting the Dark Lord's words almost exactly as he'd once said them to her, on a dark day, a day she would rather not remember…
"Yes."
Severus took her hand, running a fingertip gently over the injury. "How did it happen? I mean, what happened at all?" He sounded confused, his voice so different from the one he had used just a minute ago, so… small. Sariss had never heard him speak so softly.
She led him back to the settee.
"It's almost ridiculously simple. It was an accident…" she continued the account of things. "He was about to cast Avada Kedavra on little Harry—if he had cast it, it would have bounced off the boy, I'm sure about this, but it wouldn't have been enough. It would have hit Voldemort but not destroyed him. So, I guess, my being there had the sole purpose to get it right. The first curse intended for Harry was aimed at me instead. I didn't think at all at this moment. I didn't think about the fact that this was Avada Kedavra, the Killing Curse itself! I just raised my hands, I don't even know why… it was a reflex, I paid no attention to what I was doing… and it hit me. It hurt, Severus, it hurt so much that I made the house break apart when I couldn't bear it any longer… but not before the curse flew from my hand towards Voldemort. It struck him straight in the chest. He was not really impressed by it…" Sariss said sarcastically.
"And the little baby I was supposed to have saved was then hit with a second Killing curse Voldemort cast only a few seconds or not even that long a time after he had been hit with the curse that had rebounded off me. I almost thought that all was lost… But the curse bounced back from him, too… I was so glad that it did, even though I knew that it had bounced off seventeen years ago. I had been so afraid I'd mess everything up by my sheer presence—stupid, really… And then it hit Voldemort, too. He screamed, a piercing scream, a scream I fear I am going to remember for the rest of my life… And I screamed, too—the pain, his screaming, his shadow that passed over me… I must have lost consciousness at that point. When I woke up, there was little Harry smiling up at me as if nothing had happened at all. I can't remember crawling towards him… But I must have… He said something like "Mummy" and I had to tell him that his mother wasn't there…"
"Lily."
The way he said it…
A thousand words couldn't be more expressive than those two syllables…
Those two syllables and a few more, some of which he just said, some of which he uttered a very long time ago…
"You were in love with her, weren't you?" Sariss whispered.
This seemed to startle him quite a bit. "Sariss, I—"
"An honest answer. I know it. I heard the desperation in your voice as you entered the house and called out to her. And I can read between the lines very well. You just said you could have saved her, them both…" she said. "I want to hear it from you."
"Sariss…" he sighed, running his hand through his hair again. "Yes, yes, I was in love with her. I don't want to talk about this. I don't even want to think about this. Don't make me remember things I cannot change, things I cannot make undone."
"If you loved her—why do you dislike Harry Potter so immensely? It can't be only for the reason that his father saved you from this joke Sirius Black had devised… that you didn't want to owe him…" she trailed off, thinking hard. Then, as he hadn't answered, she said, "That's it, isn't it…" The more she thought about it the more of the pieces of the puzzle Severus Snape was to her fell into their respective places…
"What do you mean?" he asked, a tinge of wariness in his voice.
I've got you now, Severus Snape. Check mate.
You're going to hit another nerve there—and I genuinely fear it will not only be one of his…
Sariss ignored the warning voice in her head. "You dislike him so much because Lily Potter gave her life so Harry would live… because the boy lived when she had to die… You keep blaming the boy for her death, because if there had been no Harry…" she trailed off, her voice having become very soft, and hesitating before she continued thoughtfully, more talking to herself than to Severus now, as the realization sank in, "And every time you look at him you see his mother's eyes in the face of James Potter who stole Lily from you…"
"Maybe," he whispered barely audibly. Coming from him this was a clear 'yes.'
He'd turned his face away from her, not looking into her eyes as he'd confessed what was unmistakeably the truth.
He could not have her—and then, as if that hadn't been enough already, he tried but could not even save her…
He holds his grudges for far too long a time, don't you think?
Most of all the grudges against himself.
Snapes don't settle old scores…
They harbour them…
And there's—
"What happened then?" he spoke up again, changing the subject, interrupting her train of thought as he did so. It had to make him feel uncomfortable, being read like an open book, hearing the truth from someone else who just had put one and one together and got two. Suddenly it had become so very easy to read him. When you knew the signs you had to look for…
Yet, she continued her report as though the previous scene hadn't happened. "Then I pulled you out of the rubble and took you away from the house so you wouldn't be seen… wouldn't have to explain why you had been there… who would have believed an Ex-Death Eater? Who, except Dumbledore?"
"Right, I would have been in quite some trouble. I hadn't thought about this, I must admit…" he muttered, his eyes clouded by the memories Sariss could almost see floating by when she chanced a sideways glance to his eyes. He was clearly putting another piece of the puzzle into place.
"I went back, checking on Harry once more. I had to hide when Hagrid came and took Harry away after he had spoken to Sirius Black. Black grew aware of my presence and I warned him not to do anything he might regret later on. Obviously, he didn't listen… Then I told him to leave and returned to you, into the darkness where no one who came to the remains of the house looking for Harry or… her…" she avoided saying Lily's name, "…would have seen me, or you. Then I woke you up and Disapparated." She took a deep breath. "That's about it. I returned to Dumbledore's office, asked him to take good care of you for me," (she smiled slightly at Severus as she said this), "and he sent me back to Dumbledore's present office."
"And here you are."
"Here I am."
"And your eyes?"
"Avada Kedavra. Apparently, it's supposed to be some sort of Avada Kedavra green. I completely forgot that I wanted to see my eyes before I came to you. I thought that perhaps you wouldn't like the way they looked," Sariss faltered. "I don't know what they look like. What do they look like, Severus?" she moved to finally conjure up a mirror but once again her hand was intercepted in mid-movement.
"They're different, very green now, greener than before. And you're right. It is Avada Kedavra green, now that I think of it," he trailed off.
"Tell me, Severus, how… evil do they look like?"
He shook his head slightly. "They don't look evil. They're still your eyes. They couldn't even look evil if they were red as Voldemort's, simply because you're looking through them."
Sariss covered Severus's hand with hers. He turned it around and looked at her palm.
"Are you going to keep the scar?" he asked softly.
"I think so. Dumbledore said it could come in handy. The thought has crossed my mind as well as his that it must have established some sort of connection. After all both our scars came from the same spell… And as useful as it might prove to be some time, at the moment it is tingling quite badly. I just hope it heals fast although I wouldn't want to bother Madam Pomfrey. It's not deep, after all, has stopped bleeding already and…" She stopped talking since Severus had lifted her hand up and pressed his lips to the scar on her palm. His breath on the sensitive, slightly injured skin made shivers run down her spine. Why was it that this man only had to touch her so lightly to make the rest of the world completely escape her mind all of a sudden?
Don't get carried away here! There's still something that bothers you, isn't there?
Not now. He's doing it again. I don't want to think about—
Now is the moment. End all speculations. It might hurt but you'll know for sure. If it were my choice I'd refuse being second best when he keeps thinking about… you know whom I'm talking about. I don't know how it is with you…
I don't want to know. He's—
But I do. And I'll be so insistent if you don't settle this right now. I won't let you sleep, I tell you.
Sariss swallowed, trying to gather her wits—Severus's attentions made it very hard for her to string together a coherent sentence—enough to ask a final question. The question. "Are you still in love with her?" she whispered, her voice rather unsteady now and not only because she feared his answer.
He dropped her hand, startled, and looked at her, intently, a very serious expression on his face.
"I won't ask you any more questions about things you'd rather forget after this, I promise. Just answer me this," Sariss said in a small voice, by now really dreading his answer.
He didn't speak. Instead, he averted his gaze.
You shouldn't have asked.
I… He… You forced me to!
You should have let the past rest in peace.
He hasn't even answered yet…
He doesn't have to. Silence can be more of an answer than a thousand words.
So you think he's still…
Definitely. Absolutely. Yes.
Then… then what do—did—I mean to him?
See? That's exactly the reason why we decided to not ever fall in love. Love leads to loss. We didn't want to lose anymore, remember? No one.
Stop lecturing me about things I know all too well myself! I know what we decided after Rick and Rory died—even sooner than that… I can't remember. I might have decided it the day he came for me already…
And then you made friends with Rick and Aurora.
Yes.
And you lost them.
Yes.
I can see a pattern developing here…
Sariss stood up, blinking several times so as not to start crying. She wouldn't cause a scene. She wouldn't. It would be too embarrassing. She'd feel like a character from one of those romance novels that she so detested.
"Do you want me to leave?" she asked softly. "Do you want to be alone with your memories?" Her voice was shaking, and she hated herself for not being able to sound cold right now. There had been a time when she could have sounded like living ice…
"Sariss—." He, too, stood up. Slowly and quite wearily. She saw him out of the corner of her eyes.
Having learnt all those things about him made her fear that he had been looking for someone who'd replace Lily; that he thought about her when Sariss kissed him, when they made love… She might be able to sense feelings but if they were directed at her or the projection of a memory, she was not able to tell. It was a treacherous gift.
"Who is it that you touch when you touch me? Whom do you see when you look at me?" she asked softly yet harshly. "Are you pretending that I'm her?" It sounded cruel to ask him those questions the way she did. Bombarding him with question marks like the bullets of a Muggle machine gun. Whatever his answers would be, those questions must hurt him as much as it hurt Sariss to ask them. And if his answers were 'yes' and 'her' or 'Lily' it was good that way. In that case, it was supposed to hurt.
Severus stepped in her direct line of view, facing her.
"Sariss," he repeated, brushing her hair out of her face and resting his palm against her cheek, his thumb on her chin, so that she had to look up at him, "believe me, since I you came into my life, I haven't thought of Lily Evans Potter in another way than as a memory, a memory long gone by, a shadow of my past… It has been only you ever since." He said all of this very slowly and intently as though he feared to be misunderstood if he phrased his words any different…
But it was not way he said it. It was the way he looked at her. So sad, so sorry.
Sariss closed her eyes in relief; a little tear escaped despite all her efforts.
He wiped it away.
He clearly was sorry for possibly having made her feel as though he had, if only for a moment, treated her like a substitution for Lily, which he most likely hadn't at all. And if he had at the beginning it didn't really matter, did it? The only thing that mattered now was that the past was long gone.
Sariss must have been seeing things when she'd leapt to that particular conclusion she had leapt to. She must, since she sensed his feelings so unmistakably now, so strongly, that he might as well have openly declared it. She realized that she didn't hate Lily for the feelings she had invoked in him.
Things like that happened. Small dramas. Unrequited love. Sariss had never really been a victim of that. But she had witnessed those dramas all around her. She had always been too busy dealing with herself to share her life with someone else, too afraid to get involved in those things. They could only lead to pain. No, Sariss had never suffered the pain love could bring until a few months ago. Unlike Severus.
Had that led him into Darkness?
There were many reasons one chose the Dark side. Hunger for power, for wealth and influence. Those were the simple ones. But there were more complex ones, too. Had Severus descended into Darkness because there had been no Light for him to turn to? No light to hold on to, no guidance? Then why had he turned his back on the Death Eaters after a, in comparison to others, fairly short time?
Sariss wouldn't ask him about that. It caused him pain to look back, to remember. They had done that together a lot during the last days, spoken about things they'd rather not speak about usually. Nothing ever had felt so bad. Nothing ever had been so hard to do or listen to. But it was in the past. Severus had left his behind, albeit, he had not forgotten it, because "to forget is to repeat." None of what he'd said had made her angry—which was strange; Sariss had hunted down lesser men for having done less horrible things than him. But she couldn't bring herself to hate him. It was as if he were speaking about a completely different person—and he loathed that person. He loathed himself. And a part of him wanted her to loathe him, too.
He had so many regrets.
Sariss wouldn't urge him to tell her any more of them. They were part of him. But they were not him.
And she would not mention Lily again either. Let her rest in peace. Sariss wouldn't hate her for having been loved such a long time ago.
Lily had given her life for her baby—Sariss had almost witnessed it—and if Severus had loved her once, she must have been a wonderful being. Severus didn't love easily. Lily must have been a light in the darkness of Voldemort's first rise to power, the light that wouldn't shine for the young Severus Snape; the light that had chosen James Potter over him…
Sariss would try to be that light as much as she could even though she knew perfectly well that with a heritage like hers she would only be a small candle in the gloom that was the Potions master's soul. She'd be his light as much and as long as possible.
Do not burn too brightly. The brighter a candle burns, the sooner it dies…
Haven't you made me paranoid enough already?
I just—
"Severus…" she began, leaning into his palm, enjoying the warmth and softness of his hand.
"I'm sorry, love. You startled me a bit when you asked me that so frankly. I had to process all of what the question alone implied first…" Severus said softly. "I'm sorry."
Sariss once again felt his sadness and pain joining hers. He was really sorry and to express it in words, in a situation like this… She had once, in a time that seemed so very long ago all of a sudden, known a Severus Snape who wouldn't have been able to force a 'Sorry' over his lips—a real 'Sorry' and not one that was said without thinking, without really meaning very much—if his life depended on it. And now it seemed that he meant it every time he said it. She was almost painfully aware of that fact now.
"Have I ever given you the impression that it wasn't you I wanted?" he asked, stroking her cheek.
Had the thought indeed crossed his mind, too, that he might have given her the impression that he used Sariss as some sort of a replacement for Lily? It must have.
She shook her head. "I… I suddenly feel so stupid…" Sariss stuttered, wiping away another tear that had somehow escaped her eye. "Stupid thing, crying, really. I don't want to cry. There's no reason to. Everything's fine."
See? Everything's fine.
Remind me again what you told me only a few minutes ago, you prat.
I can't seem to remember.
You'd better not. And keep out of it in the future. Making me think the worst when in fact there's nothing to worry about. Paranoid prat.
How should I have known?
When you don't really know something, you'd better keep your mouth shut.
Know-it-all.
If I am a know-it-all then you're a know-it-not-at-all.
"I'm sorry, love," he said again. "I didn't want you to know it because I thought you'd see it exactly like this, which you did."
"Leaping to conclusions that's what I did."
"You do that a lot," he replied. "I seem to make you do that."
"Not your fault that is. And you shouldn't feel sorry for loving someone, anyone."
"I am not. I'm just sorry that I gave you the wrong impression again. That seems to be one of my favourite pastimes, doesn't it? Doing exactly what's the wrong thing to do." He sounded bitter now.
"You're not," Sariss felt inclined to say. "Not always."
"Then you're one of the two people who think that."
"Then there aren't very many people who know you."
"I saw to that myself. It's safer for me. People who know you well can hurt you the most. You should know that better than anyone else."
"I do. Choosing loneliness over friendships because it wouldn't hurt as much as losing those friends or being betrayed."
"I never betrayed you."
"I thought you did. I couldn't sense anything coming from you. Too many—."
"Too many people," he joined in. "Too much hatred and glee and menace to filter out feelings of pain and shock."
Sariss nodded. "That might have saved us both. If I had felt it, I would have begged you to help me. I'm fairly sure I would have. Without a second thought."
"They might have found it very entertaining. Even more than they already did."
"You would have shown your true colours if I had said something, if I had been able to force it over my lips. But the way it was… I'm not even sure if I hated you at that moment. I don't think I felt anything but fury at myself that I let you come closer and break my defences. I can't seem to remember. My mind must have shut down."
"And a good thing that is. I won't ever forget the way you looked at me. You did hate me," he whispered, "no matter what you say now. Usually I don't care about being hated or not… But when it's you… I felt so helpless. There was no use in killing us both by acting too early. Do you understand?"
"And now you're asking me for absolution?" There lay no menace in her voice.
"Perhaps… No, not really. I mean…" he hesitated. "You already said you forgave me… I don't know how I am supposed to put it in words… But I want you to know…" He ran his hand through his hair.
"Will you stop doing that?"
"Doing what?" he asked, puzzled.
"Running your hand through your hair. You'll accuse me of being the cause of you getting bald one day. I can already imagine—."
He rolled his eyes, but got serious instantly again. "As I was trying to say… You see… I thought I could stand by and watch you die. I would have. And I hate myself for being able to do something like that even when I know perfectly well that I would never forgive myself for it. That thought alone has been tearing at me for weeks. It presented me with a ghastly nightmare…" he muttered the last few words.
"What was it about?" Sariss enquired.
"You," he began. "And being too late—"
"Severus—."
"—and blood and death," he finished. "The worst of it is that the way the nightmare started out was a dream I often had before all of this happened. A nice dream. You were in it, so it had to be nice."
"Tell me about it."
"Rather not."
"Too personal?"
"You could say that."
"When did you have it for the first time?"
"The dream or the nightmare?"
"The dream."
"Some time around Christmas. As the Dreamless Sleep Potion didn't work very well anymore I found it quite pleasant to have my usual nightmares chased away by you."
"Christmas, huh?"
"Must have been the mistletoe…" One of those indefinable smiles of his flickered over his face for a moment.
"I take it that… well… You started fantasizing about me then?" She bit her lip very much on purpose. Her tears had dried.
"Oh yes." He gave her a meaningful look.
"Oh."
"Don't tell me you didn't."
"I might have."
He raised his eyebrow. She shrugged.
"Well, yes. I don't really remember when it started. Must have been lurking in the back of my mind for quite some time."
"Are you implying that all this dancing around each other on tiptoes, as though a bomb would go off any second, was totally unnecessary? That I could simply have walked up to you, swept you up into my arms and—."
"I would so have slapped you." Although in my dreams I never even wasted a thought to that…
"I thought so… And if I had said something along the lines of 'Come on, love. You know it, I know it. So why not save ourselves the trouble?'"
"I would have denied everything."
"Playing hard to get."
"But easy to keep."
"But just as easy to lose."
"If you say so."
"I do," Severus said. "You just gave me a taste of it again. But what I wanted to say is… well… I just wanted you to know what kind of man I am. Now you know how much Darkness lies in me. I don't deserve you. I've been thinking that for a very long time and being capable of watching you die… that just confirmed it. I don't deserve anyone. It borders on a miracle that you're still with me now that you know this big mess that my life is, the mess that I am… Promise you won't ever walk out on me again. Not because of something that's long buried."
"I can't make promises I might not be able to keep."
"You're a Slytherin. We always make promises, some of which we intend to keep, some of which we know perfectly well we can't or won't keep. Tell the truth if you can; lie to me if you must. I'll convince myself to believe it."
"I promise not to walk out on you if I have a choice. I cannot give you more than that. It'll have to be enough."
"At least it's a promise that's not too hard to keep. Thank you. Now that we're at it already, is there anything else you want to know?"
"Only what that fantasy you had about me was like… Details, please."
"You can't be serious. One second you're on the brink of tears and then you set out to make fun of me."
"Part of my charm and very necessary, too. Or would you rather have me break down again?"
"That's like choosing between a spinach-flavoured Every Flavour Bean and a broccoli-flavoured one. Not much of a difference. Both have only disadvantages."
"I might make your fantasy come true some time… Actually I'd very much like to."
Severus shook his head. "I'll never have it again. The nightmare is lurking over it constantly."
"Then you'll have to change it in a way that the nightmare won't fit in anymore."
"Who declared you a wizarding psychologist?"
"I just did. With you around that seems to be sort of a must—and you must note that I've had to deal with myself for much longer already…" Sariss said. Although even less successfully. "You could also fill me in on the way the nightmare's perverted your… er… fantasy. It might have a meaning."
"It does. Waiting too long. Being too late."
"You weren't too late. You saved me. You did."
"I almost was too late. I could almost feel you run out of life when I held you. Madam Pomfrey said you were lucky to have blacked out. So you see, there's nothing to analyse, no riddles to be solved about—."
"I understand. You don't want to go into detail. Believe me, no one understands that better than I."
"The last time you were forced to go into detail you blasted a whole wall away, didn't you?"
"Yes. The Aurors only wanted to know what exactly had happened, and I—." Sariss stopped dead. "How do you know that?"
"I was there," he said. "With Dumbledore. I didn't stay long. The Aurors had called him. They didn't know what to do with you."
"Then you were the one I heard speak to Dumbledore. You were right in front of the door of the room I was supposed to sleep in. I was awake, barely, but nonetheless. I heard you as though my head were stuffed with cotton wool. I was too drowsy back then to match the muffled voice I heard to yours later."
"I tipped the Aurors off that Voldemort was up to something, that he had caught the supposedly right man this time, your Secret-Keeper, which he had. The Aurors were too late. I was too late. A bad habit of mine," he added sarcastically.
"It was a long time ago, Severus."
"How come you keep telling me that when you don't even listen to your own advices?"
"It's easier to solve other people's problems than it is to solve one's own."
"I don't think I ever solved one of yours," Severus said.
"That might be because you can't answer a question that doesn't have an actual answer either."
"Yet you cope."
"Barely." Sariss sighed.
"You're doing remarkably well, taking the circumstances into account. My problems seem so small compared to yours sometimes." He, too, sighed. Deeply and sadly.
"Oh, Severus, if more people knew the part of your personality I've seen, saw you the way you let me see you…" she faltered, reaching out with her injured hand and brushing his hair (he washed it fairly regularly now, she noted with a bit of amusement) out of his face, thus mimicking his earlier gesture.
"They'd pity me."
"Some would perhaps," she stated.
"I don't want that," he said, a harsh edge to his voice.
No, you really wouldn't want that. You prefer to be heartily detested…
"I know. Neither would I," she said out-loud instead.
"Do you pity me?"
"No, Severus, I don't pity you. I… you know… I…" She couldn't say it. He was looking at her so very intently, that she could scarcely stand it. That made it even harder for her. She just couldn't force the truth out. She didn't have practice in things like these. It was much easier to ask uncomfortable questions (which she had had sufficient practice in) than to express her feelings in words.
So she did the one thing that could possibly make the silence, which, in that moment, hung so heavily between them, bearable… She kissed him. She drew him near and kissed him, thus telling him what she couldn't say. Seventeen years backwards, seventeen years forwards. She knew it hadn't been that long, yet it felt so long ago; she'd learnt so many things, seen so many things, seen a different time, the end of an age of terror from a completely different point of view than the one she'd had on it. She'd faced her very own nemesis for the third time… She'd come to know a part of Severus Snape that had lain hidden and buried for a long time. And she wanted Severus still. Perhaps even more now that she knew that she had not imagined everything he was feeling for her. She'd learnt about a new aspect of his personality… And she accepted it. In a certain respect, it made him whole; it made the puzzle that was Severus Snape complete… No more secrets.
All those thoughts raced through her mind as she once again slid her hands around his neck, very carefully, since she wouldn't have wanted to make the wound start bleeding again, and entwined them in his hair. So rich, so soft… She had no idea why exactly she did what she did; it seemed to be something akin to instinct.
His arms slid around her waist, the palms of his hands emitting the so familiar warmth that enveloped her like a blanket. He pressed her against him, holding her so very tightly, resting his chin on top of her head for a few moments… Then he pulled away from her and lifted his hand to the side of her face once more.
"Sariss, you look dreadful." He sighed. "Let me clean your face."
"Thank you very much, but I already had someone rubbing my cheek furiously today. I think I'll just wait until it disappears on its own," she smirked.
"I don't intend to 'rub it furiously.' On the contrary. Who would, anyway?" he said, already conjuring up a towel and a bowl of water.
"Sirius Black," she said, knowing she'd strike a chord with this, and sat back down on the settee.
"That would be like him," Severus sneered.
"Severus, your old grudges…" Sariss said in a singsong voice.
"Sod my 'old grudges' as you put them. I never liked him, even without the werewolf incident I wouldn't have liked him."
"Why is that now?"
"He always got the girls," he stated dryly, not a tinge of emotion in his voice.
He had caught her off-guard with this remark. Thus, she couldn't rein herself in anymore and dissolved into a fit of the giggles.
"One second you look as though someone melted their cauldron and the next—," she sniggered, regaining her composure. "You truly are full of surprises."
"Which is one of my… more charming personality traits, I hope…" he drawled, throwing her a smile, as he sat down, too, took her hand and gently began to clean the bit of dried blood away that had still been there. She winced as the cloth made contact.
"Sorry," he said.
"It was just a bit cold," Sariss waved it aside. "You know that it's just a bit uncomfortable to me. Nothing serious."
"Sorry nonetheless. Hadn't thought about it being uncomfortably cold," Severus muttered and with a flick of his wand, warmed the water. Indeed, it was much nicer now…
"Severus, I can take care of it myself, really," Sariss said. She was no baby one had to care for all the time… "You don't have to—."
"I want to," he stated firmly at her—as she knew quite well herself—feeble attempt to maintain her pride.
Having finished with her hand, he wrung out the towel in the bowl, thus moistening it again and brought the wet cloth to her face. It was pleasantly warm and he was very gentle as he tilted her head to the side to clean her cheek and also her hair. She flinched a bit when he touched the wound on her head.
Looks like there's even more blood than I was aware of… And I must be quite sooty, too. No wonder, a house collapsed around me…
She closed her eyes. His touch was so soothing. She inhaled deeply as he pulled her against his chest, holding her again, still running his hand through her hair and up and down the side of her face, sharing his body heat with her. At one point, Sariss realized that he had actually conjured a hairbrush and was now brushing her hair, very gently. She hardly noticed his slight tugging. It was really quite tangled…
But not so tangled that he'd have to take such long a time, is it? the little, a bit evil, voice in the back of her mind asked.
Who cares? This is nice… so shut up…
Sariss moved slightly, settling herself into a more comfortable position, resting her hand against his chest, burying her face in the hollow between his ear and his shoulder, inhaling the scent that was so unmistakably him… It made her so heavenly drowsy…
~*~*~
Severus brushed her silken hair that hadn't looked very silken a few minutes ago. But it already started to feel smooth and soft again, clean and shiny. Just the way he liked it; just the way it usually was. It was a calming task, one brush and then the next, slowly and carefully; not having to speak any more… And she was so very close to him, actually snuggling into him the way she did so often, resting her forehead against the side of his throat…
He felt something akin to relief at the fact that she'd figured everything out on her own. He had no idea if and how he could ever have put all those things into words. Yet, she had done so and in so few words that it bordered on a miracle. She hadn't even had to pressure him to speak. And she hadn't pressured him to state his answers more clearly. He was thankful for this, but also slightly uncomfortable. No one had ever talked to him like that, except for Dumbledore, perhaps. But not even he had expressed all those things so clearly, in such small an amount of words…
It amazed him that Sariss understood, that she hadn't really judged him. He had thought she'd scream at him, not believing him when he said he hadn't thought of Lily anymore since he'd realized that the love he'd thought he still felt for her was but an illusion he'd harboured somewhere in a dark corner of his soul. But he should have expected her to react the way she did. The last days had clearly shown that she was not the hysterical type. She'd never gotten worked up because of things that were in the past—his past—and couldn't be changed. And she wasn't the jealous type either—least of all of a memory.
Sariss would have left without saying another word if he had told her to. She wouldn't have made a scene. She would have cried. Yes. Severus was positive about that—it was something she couldn't help—but not in front of him, not to the extent she'd have cried as soon as she would have been out of his room. She wouldn't have used tears to hold on to something that didn't really exist—but it did exist. She may be on the mentally unstable side and thus very temperamental but she was clearly not the hysterical type…
And she is not Lily, either.
I'm glad she isn't her. Otherwise, she would be dead…
No. Sariss was real, alive; he could touch her, he could kiss her—and she'd kiss him back every time he would bring his lips to hers… He hadn't thought about Lily anymore…
The moment he'd said it, he'd realized it. The moment he'd told Sariss that she had been the only one on his mind for quite some time, he'd realized that he had indeed stopped thinking about Lily in ways other than that he had failed her back then… Only a shadow, a memory. It had been the truth and nothing but the truth when he had told Sariss. She was more than complicated. Not only a Riddle, but also still a mystery never to be completely solved. Would she have become like this if it hadn't been for the Dark Lord to interfere?
Sariss was on his mind, night and day, whether she was near him, so close he could feel her cool—or sometimes very warm, for that matter—breath on his skin, or far away from him in the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom, teaching… It wasn't so far away, actually, but to him it felt this way. Strange how dependent he had become on what she felt for him, what she thought of him… He wanted her to be happy. And somehow, he knew this was not possible. She'd never be happy—not completely anyway—for more than a few seconds or minutes in a row—all because of the Dark Lord. And she'd never be genuinely happy, happy without a shadow already lurking somewhere in a corner to drive any kind of positive feeling out of her heart again.
If there had been a way, Severus would have made it undone. If there were a way, he would kill him instantly. Not for the purpose of thus ridding the wizarding world of an evil usurper, fighting the Dark Side or just because Dumbledore wanted him to—no, simply because Voldemort had made her suffer and still did… Twice her father had destroyed her innocence. Twice she had to be taken away to save her from him… Severus would see to it that this wouldn't happen a third time. He felt responsible for her safety. He had already failed once. Never again.
I won't lose anymore. This is my vow. I won't lose you. No matter what.
Right. History won't repeat itself. After all the conditions are quite different.
Not that different. But I won't fail to protect the one I love for a second time. I am loved in return. I won't fail again. I can't take it. I won't fail.
And that happened quite a lot in the past, didn't you? You failing, that is.
The past is gone—
But she's here.
Yes, Sariss is here. And I'll see to it that it stays that way for a very long time…
Sariss's breath on his neck caused the tingling feeling to spread all over his body again. The way her lips lightly rested against his skin…
Severus Banished the hairbrush and gently pushed her away. Not very far; only far enough to see her face. She looked at him with those changed eyes of hers. They looked almost like Lily's had always looked like… But hers had never even remotely looked at him like that. He couldn't remember anyone ever looking at him quite the way Sariss did. As though she wanted to ask him all over again why he was here, why she was here, what made him stay with her; as though she wondered whether all of this was real or whether she was only dreaming. What did she see when she looked into his eyes? He didn't know. He only hoped she saw what he hadn't been able to tell her yet: that he loved her in a way that seemed almost obsessive.
She was so beautiful. Like a porcelain doll, looking frail like china in his hands. Her eyes, as they were now, only emphasised all of this even more strongly than before. She looked almost unreal as though she'd go up in a wisp of smoke and disappear as soon as he let go of her. That impression had been growing stronger and stronger by every passing hour.
He wouldn't let go of her. Never. Two lonely souls, two ocean souls, had found their counterparts.
What made Severus want to drown in her eyes wasn't their colour. It was something elusive that could never be fully put into words. By no one. It was downright impossible. But its meaning was all too clear. A blind man would have grown aware of it.
She loves me.
She never said it.
I never said it either. Not in as many words. That doesn't mean that I don't love her.
Perhaps you should tell her then.
I don't think I can. It's not as easy as it might sound to you.
Three little words. She's got the same problem, I'm sure. She wanted to tell you she loved you quite a few times, you must have noticed, but she never finished.
She didn't have to finish. She was quite convincing without that.
You leave it to my imagination to fill in the gaps in your explanation, don't you?
Exactly. I only tell you that I intend to do the same thing. No confessions that sound as though they were made up by an author of some sort of cheap romance novel.
I take it you've finally decided to be a man of actions then. If you can't say it then you'll have to demonstrate it.
I intend to. That kind of demonstration and towards her… any time.
"Why are you looking at me that way?" Sariss's voice intruded his mind.
He didn't answer. Instead, he tilted her head up and lavished her face with kisses, fully intending to drown in her scent and taste as he pulled her to her feet with him, picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. Somehow, the bed was his favourite place when making love to her. Not that they had never done it somewhere else. Very much on the contrary; and every time, no exceptions, it had been an experience beyond description. Perhaps it was the falling asleep together afterwards that made that particular location so attractive. Perhaps Severus was after all the romantic kind of man, in this respect at least…
"I want you," Sariss breathed, when they had reached their destination and almost frantically started on disrobing each other.
"What a coincidence. I just wanted to say the same thing," Severus mumbled against the tender skin on her throat, ignoring that a thin layer of fine dust particles—dust from the past—had settled all over her, feeling her shiver beneath his touch.
"Oh dear, I'm so sooty," she managed to say when she saw her robe fall to the floor. "Just look, it's everywhere. The house-elves won't be pleased if your sheets are ruined…"
"They don't care. Nor do I," he murmured into her ear when he pushed her down into the very sheets she had just mentioned.
"I should have taken Dumbledore's advice and taken a bath before…" was the last coherent sentence he let her even begin. The rest dissolved in a blur of those special sounds that only the act of being made love to could make her utter.
~*~*~
Later that night, in the early morning hours to be exact, Sariss carefully slid out of the bed so as not to wake Severus up. He had woken from a nightmare earlier, calling her name in such a panic. His eyes had been wild. He had been in such a fear for her that for minutes he kept clutching at her, covering her face with kisses and hoarsely whispering 'You're alive.' He had been so frightened… Sariss had never seen him like this before. It had felt like a knife had been thrust right through her heart and then twisted. Her stomach had clenched into a tight knot.
She couldn't fall asleep again after that and had thus lain awake for hours, just listening to the once more even, regular, and soothing rhythm of his breathing and heartbeat.
Earlier that night, he hadn't given her the time or opportunity to take a look at her eyes and, frankly, she hadn't really cared. She had completely forgotten about them. Yet, she wanted to know what they looked like now. Really green eyes. Avada Kedavra green eyes… The eyes Severus now saw when he looked at her…
Settling herself in an armchair near the fireplace in Severus's study, she charmed the fire to burn a bit brighter than usual—in the darkness it was a bit creepy in here with all those jars on the shelves glinting with the flickering of the fire, their rare and valuable (but nonetheless grotesque-looking) contents looking strangely alive—and then conjured up a small mirror as she couldn't very well go into the bathroom without being noticed. The door was only a few yards away from the now peacefully sleeping figure. He would wake up. But Sariss wanted to be alone to see her eyes for the first time—just in case they looked as though they weren't her own…
It already bordered on a miracle that Sariss had made it out of the room without Severus noticing her leave. There hadn't been a single time he hadn't woken up when she had only moved inches away. Not that it wouldn't have been the same with her. She, too, had a distinct tendency to jerk awake when he got up. The two of them definitely hadn't slept very deeply recently. As the Potion didn't work properly anyway, they had stopped taking it entirely and thus suffered from their nightmares again. They had been waking each other at least twice a night recently when they had spent the night together—and had thus decided to not spend entire nights with each other—well, not every night.
Severus tended to jerk back to reality rather quickly, whereas the nightmares seemed to have a much firmer grasp on Sariss. He had to use all his strength to keep her from struggling wildly, shaking her and screaming her name to make her wake up and realize that it were not Voldemort's hands on her, that it was Severus, Severus who held her safely in his arms…
Slowly, Sariss raised the mirror, having closed her eyes before she did so. Taking a deep breath, she opened them, her breath catching in her throat.
Bright emerald green they were. Avada Kedavra green. Like two small green flashlights. The difference was startling. Her whole face seemed to be overshadowed by this feature, her skin seeming even whiter with the contrast. Sariss stared at her reflection, the eyes of her reflection. So strange; so alien.
They're not my eyes. That's not me. That's not me…
Severus seems not to care what colour they are.
I can hardly believe that when he has to look at them all the time…
Stop this! Can't you for once in your life believe what you're told? He was completely honest when he said it. He loves you. You know it. You know things about him no one else knows—at least not to that degree.
You might be right.
Of course I am. Answer me one question: Would you ever make love to someone whose eyes you can't bear to look at?
No…
Quod erat demonstrandum. Now go back to bed and snuggle up to him. You and I know you like that very much…
But I do look weird.
You'll get used to it. Every time you see your reflection, you'll see them. They are yours now.
I look even paler than usual with them being so bright green. I'm as white as a sheet. How come I never realized that before?
You didn't really pay attention. But I say it again. Severus doesn't care. If he can accept your eyes, if he can accept everything about you as it is, why can't you?
It's not that simple.
It is. It's the only thing that counts. He accepts you as you are. There's nothing more you could ask for, is there?
There is.
What is that?
That's something that is impossible. I've been asking for it for almost eighteen years by now…
This is getting you and me nowhere, dear.
I know. I just wish… I don't want this. I want to be warm out of my own accord. I want to be normal…
Go back to bed. Stop thinking about it. It was a very long day for you today. Sleep. Wait till tomorrow comes. You'll feel better again.
I don't think so. But I'll heed your advice.
Sariss threw a last glance at her reflection in the mirror (it looked back at her a bit uncomfortable at having been examined so closely and blushing slightly) and then Banished it. She'd just ignore all of it. She had always fared best doing this, ignoring it all… One thing more to ignore wasn't much of a difference considering what she already had on her Ignore List.
With a sigh she got up and crept silently back into the bedroom where Severus stirred lightly but fell asleep immediately again as soon as Sariss's head rested on his chest. She, too, fell asleep almost instantly.
Next chapter:
Severus notices alarming signs, everyone returns to Hogwarts, Ginny steals Harry's socks, another Death Eater attack and open displays of affection.