Chapter Five: What About Me?

Fury burned, or seethed rather, deep in the heart of his soulless black eyes. In his darkest fantasy, her slender head was between his curving fingers, black hair pressed softly against his palms. Slowly her skull would crush between his porcelain white hands, staining the flawless skin with hot crimson blood. Her blood would spread like wild rivers, tracing through each pore if his hands, wrapping around his wrists and raining down his arms. Before her skull completely caved in, an agonized scream would reach her lips, pouring out as slowly and hotly as the blood from her head. A shudder caressed his soul, bringing him back with a sting to reality. Her cool handprint was a heavy echo against his face. 

"The truth is a ruthless bitter disease isn't it?" Practically unfazed by the physical attack, Severus spoke in a low harsh tone. His face was now a mere inch from her own. Each of his breaths rolled over her face. "You seem so ready to just give up, renounce everything you believe because you don't have the easiest life. Let me tell you dear child, you are not the only one to ever suffer. By no means will your suffering end here, no matter what path you choose. Heed my words girl, do not forsake this world because things haven't gone according to your plan, this is bigger than any of us here. How can you possibly believe that you alone suffer? You know not what it means to truly suffer." Vaguely, but there nonetheless, in the background was Dumbledore pleading at Severus to step away from Melody, but the two were entranced with each other, locked in their own time. Glittering onyx stones glared straight into clear sapphire pools, dancing with the light twinkle of tears that had yet to fade away. "You have never felt pain like your dear sweet Caleb. Would you like me to tell you what Cruciatus feels like?" She made a weak, pleading noise in the negative, yet he completely ignored her. "To have every nerve in your body crackle and explode in a brilliant shock of agony, every bone break and break again with each muscle tearing over and over. Torture so severe, so incredible you cannot comprehend anything else, all you know is this sharp burning torment, twisting you inside out. Jagged shivers slicing down your broken spine, grabbing at the bones and yanking them further apart…that is true suffering." Finally he was silent, and quietly they stared at each other, tension immersed itself into her shoulders, refusing to let the chill of his stare make her quiver. Time stood still for them, allowing the silent communication to stretch, going on and on.

Readjusting the strap on her bag, Melody swung it onto her weary shoulder. There was a dull aching in her back and her head was thickly clouded with all the discoveries the morning had birthed to her. Now it was mid-day and she was to be escorted down to the dungeons, where Dumbledore had prepared a small room for her.

The trip was silent and tense. Severus hadn't spoken a single word to her since their 'talk.' It had been a slight eye-opener for her, but yet she could not stop wondering what about me? The decision that she would indeed stay and help any way she could with the war, which she knew so little about, had already been made. Dumbledore had briefed her with few details both about the war and her family, after apologizing profusely for not telling her before, much to Snape's disgust. No she had no siblings, but her mother was buried in the Everlasting Cemetery. In order for their plans to work, she would have to come face to face with her father, with Voldemort. After a few hours sleep, she was to meet with the famous Boy-Who-Lived and several other key members of the Order.

Dreading the meeting, Melody quietly followed Severus down a winding corridor that seemed to slope downward ever so slightly. The air around them cooled the further they traveled, the gracefully whistle of Severus's robes was the only sound to penetrate the veil of silence between them. The halls grew darker and the temperature was downright cold, shrugging her shoulders in an attempt to warm herself, Melody cleared her throat, coaxing herself to say something, anything.

"Um…"

"What?" Curtly he tried to discourage her from further attempts at communication.

"Is it going to be this cold in my room?"

"Indeed."

There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence between them. His back stood straight and hard in front of her, guided her down the winding path. Glancing around she couldn't help but wonder why they didn't warm the hall with magic. It was so dark and dank down there, and cold. "Your rooms are down here aren't they? How do you stand it?" A poor stab at a conversation, but all the same, she did wonder.

"Matches my presence don't you think? Black and depressing…do I not send chills down your back?" Sarcasm rolled easily from his mouth.

"Not really." Another mistake. Before she had time to react, he had swept around, facing her immediately. His long fingers wrapped around the tops of her shoulders, nails digging into her skin.

"Now perhaps?" The expression on his face combined with his coarse grasp on her, did indeed send a stream of chills sliding down her back. Apparently the look on her face told him all he needed to know, for he let go and turned away from her, resuming his brisk pace around a corner.

"And here we are. Your rooms." With an exaggerated bow he opened the door wide, sweeping his hands around as though the doorway was on display. Curiously she eyed him; there was nothing friendly about this conversation. He was so acerbic, so sarcastic. The dramatic way he showed her the room disturbed her, he wasn't joking, he was mocking her with a deadly cruelty. Uneasily she remembered that she still didn't know where the Potions room was, and that was the place she was to meet him latter.

"Thank you. But where is the Potions room? That is where I am supposed to go isn't it?" Fully expecting some strange mocking comment she stood nervously before him.

He nodded, "follow me." That was it, no cynicism, wow.

Further down the corridor they walked, passing only one other door. Melody was tempted to ask where the closed door led, but figured that if she was supposed to know, he would have informed her. Finally they came to a halt.

"And this would be your latter destination. I trust you can find your way back to your rooms without my assistants, correct?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"You are so very welcome." Thick with sarcasm he watched her turn and move smoothly down the hall, drifting into shadows until she was no longer visible.

Quietly he sat in his chair, staring at the dark green pattern etched expertly into the beautiful wood desk. His robes were thrown over the back of his chair and he tried to relax. Even now, he could still feel her smack. She had a lot of nerve hitting him like that, but he had attacked her in a way. Still, he felt no sympathy for her. How was he supposed to be concerned for her when he had so many of his own ghosts slithering through his empty soul? She had cried as he yelled at her, and he had wanted to hit her for the weakness. Could she face Voldemort that weak? Severus couldn't bear to think what the monster would do if she cried in front of him.

But she is his daughter...oh I dout he has any fatherly impulses. He won't care about her, only her power and how it could be used to his advantage. True, true.

Melody was grieving though, perhaps after some time has passed, she will be over Caleb and be stronger because of it.

Severus…she will never be over Caleb if she really loved him, and I believe she did. After all, you still aren't over Lily.