Chapter Eleven--Corrosives
A/N: I'm having a girl friend imput now (Yea), as she thinks I'm 'lacking insight and feeling'. Hoorah. I'm humouring her for a few chapters. Mush, IMHO.
Georgie descended the owlery steps and walked down the hallway towards the main staircase. She paused as she crossed Minerva's open door. Minerva wasn't there but the light was on. Perhaps she was out on her own evening rounds or chatting with Dumbledore. Whenever Snape wasn't about in the evening, he was usually chatting with his friend Albus, playing chess, or doing manly things...or else he were out on an assignment. She always hoped he was up there kicking Dumbledore's ass at Wizarding chess when discovered t be absent.
She skirted back to dungeons, and called out goodnights to several students in the Common Room. She burst through the door smirking dopily. Snape looked up at her then returned his attentions to his book.
"So..." She walked behind the couch he was perched on. "When are we going to be doing some horrifically dangerous and illegal potion-brewing?"
Them man glanced up, slightly surprised, but pleased. "In that big of a hurry?"
"Yup, I love making things go boom!" She teased, then covered up quickly by adding sternly, "And not go boom also...I miss it. I have only gotten to make some sleeping potions and some other stuff..." Her voice trailed off. There were some things she tried to keep as her own secrets around here.
"What would you like to work on?"
"Something corrosive."
He starred at her shocked. "Why?" setting his book aside.
"Poisons, I'd be too tempted to use on you. Combustibles, on Draco Malfoy." Draco had said something about her accent the day before, and she was still a little sore about it. "Invisibles, on Hogsmeade. Everything else is too simple for me. Fame, Glory, Power, Love...don't need any of those as they're not real anyway...." Her eyes were squinting up in glee. "I see Corrosives as the only thing that I can't come up with a violently active use for. Can you?" She baited.
He ignored that, then suggested, "How about Healing? Levitation? Mind Altercations? Temptations? Illusions?" She shook her head on each one as she sat down.
"I'll get to those all in turn, but what I'd really, really love to do first would be a corrosive." She crossed her arms across her chest stubbornly.
"Again, I ask you the real reason why."
"Truth?"
"Always." He stared hard down at her.
"I want a tunnel in my room to the kitchens." She said without emotion.
Snape's head fell backwards and he shook with silent laughter. Georgie pouted at him. "It's not funny. It's true."
He gathered his wits about him, never losing control for longer then a few seconds ever-though more than usual with Georgie. "Of course, I will assist you in anyway I can. Anything to get you out of here more often."
"How noble," Georgie mocked.
"Yeah, you know me. Noble." He spat.
"Hey, Snape?"
"Why am I starting to dread those words and that tone?" He challenged.
"Shut-up. Anyway, you remember when once I told you to die, and you said if I wished it?" She watched his face for any sort of recognition to the conversation she alluded to. He slowly nodded, his mouth a thin line.
"Don't ever say that again--even as a joke. I still have bad vibes about it." He raised his eyebrows on hearing that. Georgie jumped up to her feet, mumbling about grabbing her schoolbooks for Herbology tomorrow.
She returned with two books under her arm and set into reading, her brow furled in concentration. Every so often she'd scratch her head, or frown, or smile all in response to her reading. Once again Snape was struck by how expressive her face was. It wasn't merely her eyes-as they squinted up into unreadable slits when she smiled or laughed. It was her mouth. She grinned unabashedly, twisted the sides up amusedly, bit her lip--It was like watching a show at the theatre. She set her finger on the top of her broad, flat nose and left it there, tapping it occasionally when in deep thought.
"Georgie?"
She looked up and whisked her finger off of her nose.
"Why do you only call me Snape?" He had wondered that for sometime and was waiting for an opportune time to bring it up. This really wasn't that time, but oh well.
"Huh?" She grunted, clearly not following his train of thinking.
"You call me Snape and some other rather foul names, but mostly Snape. Never Severus." He pronounced matter-of-factly.
She looked down for a second, "Uh, Everyone else calls you Snape. You told me not to call you Severus in front of other students. Hmmm..." She broke off for a second. "I don't know why I only call you Snape. What would you like me to call you?" She reasoned.
"Snape." Georgie snorted at this. "Or Severus." He added.
"Okily, dokily, Dorkily." She rolled her eyes ceiling-ward and shook her head lightly. "You didn't call me Sugar Lips though. See, I do have a good memory." She pointed out.
"Not happening. Ever. But nice try."
"Severus?"
"What?"
"Sugar Lips?" hopefully.
"Georgie!" He snarled exasperatedly.
"I want a snack. Want something?" She changed the subject unwillingly.
"No." He looked coolly at her.
"Come on. How about some Ginger or Banana Bread? I know you like it, so I'll ask for some if they've got it." She stood up hastily, dumping her things on the floor. She bent over awkwardly and set the books on top of the table. "See? This would be the time to use my secret passageway to the kitchens. But no-oo. I have to use my feet just like everyone else, damnit."
Standing straight up, she sighed, then hurled herself over the back of the couch and lunged at the door. "I'm off. Be back in few. Aloha." And she left.
She returned with a large bag in her hands and used her foot to open the door. "Aloha. I swear that it pays to live with you. Perhaps I'd get stopped in the hallways if I were a mere normal student. But I live with Snape. It's like I have free reign of the castle, go where I want, whenever I want--no one stops me." She set the things down on the table, and knocked aside her books. "I'm thinking they're all scared of you or some such nonsense..." She sat down out of breath.
"Why did you say Aloha again?"
"It's a Hawaiian greeting for 'hullo' and 'goodbye.' Oh, and 'love' too."
"Doesn't that become confusing?" He asked, sitting forward so he could rifle through the bag, setting aside the Diet Cokes in front of his friend.
"Nah. It's all in the situation. If you just walk up to someone on the street then you greet them with the Aloha meaning hello. When your conversation is done, Aloha--goodbye. The second Aloha in a single conversation with is someone is usually the goodbye one, as a-rule-of-thumb. If you're saying Aloha--love to someone, they probably know that you already love them, and you don't need to explain it." She unwrapped some cakes. "Makes sense, huh? It's all in the context."
Snape had found the Gingerbread and was unwrapping it. "If I eat like this with you for the next year, I'll get fat." He mused good-naturedly and indicated the loaf.
"Hardly." Georgie mumbled with her mouth full of food. She swallowed and laughed. "You're a walking stick-figure of a man. No meat at all on your thin person. It'd take longer than a year to get you 'fat.' Skinny, skinny, skinny..." She belched loudly.
He frowned and looked down at his body, as if he had forgotten what he looked like.
"You might also try integrating color into your wardrobe. Black is a slimming color-makes you look skinnier than you are by illusion or something-Muggle magazine said so." She grinned sheepishly.
"Thank you, but I have no desire nor need for a make-over." He was still looking down at himself.
He looked at her alternating between crisps and Diet Cokes now. "Are your family Muggles?" He couldn't believe he hadn't asked her before.
She chewed slower and narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. "Does it matter?"
"No." He answered truthfully, trying to convey that in his tone.
"Okily, here's what happened. My Mom is Canadian, she's full blood. She doesn't give a rat's ass about that because in Canada, no one cares. My dad's English. He's full blood too, but he's lived in Canada for the past almost 30 years. I was adopted; my mom and dad couldn't have kids-real sad. My biological parents were killed-don't know the story, so don't ask. I don't care. As far as records are kept in adoptions, well in Wizard adoptions--which don't go far at all--I'm full. But I honestly doubt I am. I love Twinkies too much, must be a Muggle somewhere to give me that love of sugary goodness. Besides, most Polynesians are mixed anyway. It just happens when you're stuck on islands..."
She took a bite and chewed for a few moments in silence before continuing. "I think full-blood means absolutely nothing. Hell, I'd rather spend my time with Muggles than almost 90% of the Wizards. Magic makes people stop using their imaginations and ingenuity. Magic makes us lazy. Muggles are exciting. I dunno, that's just how I feel about it." And she got suddenly very interested in her crisps.
"Filch is full-blood." Snape volunteered.
Georgie looked up amazed. "Really? Who'd have thought?" She chuckled to herself. Just more proof....
"I hate Slytherins." She spat.
"Why?" His eyes flashed. She knew he was proud of his House.
"Full-blood crap, alienating perfectly fine people. It's not a very just or logical system."
He nodded silently. "True. Slytherin inherently has deep problems--more so than all the other houses combined. But it makes you who you are, therefore one should be proud." He seemed to be parroting someone else.
"You're proud of the friends you had here? Of the things they pressured you to do? Of what you did?" Georgie asked delicately.
Snape didn't seem to be offended. "I figure that I am a different and a improved person for what I've experienced and lived through. It has shaped me and changed me, from the moment I walked into the school for the first time, to my arm being marked by Voldemort, to my running back to Dumbledore tail between my legs begging him to put me out of my misery." Georgie hadn't known that, and bit her lip. "Then the spying..."
"What about those who still subscribe to Voldemort's lies? What about those who died for his cause? What of them? What of the people they killed?"
"I'm not saying it was the right thing to do. But I feel that in my special case, my experiences have made me see the truth in things. They've helped me to value true friendships, to not want an easy way out, to be cautious with my life and with others'. I think for some people they have to take a visit to hell before they truly realize how very horrible and hot it can get-they have to sink down as far as possible, before it's possible for them to climb out of the pit, so to say. It's like how some people don't know what they have until it's gone."
"So many though, never climbed out of that pit, and preferred to stay in that hell. Is that worth it? Is the experiences, the curiosity, worth the dying?" She didn't see how this would justify so many Death Eaters, so many stealth killings, over so many years...and it was still happening.
"I would say yes. At least they're truthful-that's their true forms. They were and are sick and horribly evil people. Myself included. But the experiences that I've made it out alive from, I've learned from them taken from them what I could. I'd be a different person if I were sorted into Ravenclaw. Perhaps, I'd be endlessly happy, with 20 children, a nice wife and know not a thing about Potions, who knows? Which is better? Who knows? It's the choices we make that bring us to where we are today-that make us who we are today."
"But, So long as there's good, there's going to bad to keep the goodness in check. I don't want to say it was bound to happen anyway, but well, that's really the true gist of things. Logically, Bad happens. And Bad needs Bad People to do it's bidding. I was just stupid enough to follow." He ended solemnly.
Georgie nodded understandingly. "Severus, how'd you get to be so wise?" She said slowly and seriously.
"Experiences." He sort of grinned.
"I'm chucking this book idea," She threw her schoolbooks over her shoulder and into her open doorway. "Experiences are way better."
"I think not." He said slowly. Picking at his Gingerbread once more. Then settling back onto his couch, he stretched out and posed nonchalantly, "May I ask you something?"
"Anything." She grinned. She knew he wouldn't, out of propriety or whatever, ask her certain things, so she could say that with no fears. But he had need to worry at a question such as that because Georgie didn't believe in a question that couldn't be asked. However she was indeed taken aback on this one.
"What do you look for in a man?"
"Breathing's always good." She chided.
"Be serious!"
"I am!" She insisted, "That's really at the top of my list. Why?"
He glared at her unhappily. She glared right back at him.
"I wish to embarrass you." He said matter-of-factly.
"Oh well, then let me just assist you..." She shot him a dirty look. "Geesh!"
"So...?"
"I'm not looking for a man." She still teased. "Okay fine, um....How about: Tall, dark and handsome? Disco-dancer, or maybe an artist or a musician....dishy, dreamy boy. Smart, good, kind, funny as all hell...." She twisted her lower lip between her teeth. "A lot of my answers would be the same as yours-pretty common answers really. I've not given it all that much thought." Her eyes took on an unusual misted-over shade. "Perhaps, someone who needed me-it's nice to be needed. Someone who enjoyed music and reading and wine...good conversation... Damnit!"
She snapped out of her day-dreaming, and turned on Snape. "I'm copying yours! Now I can't even come up with one on my own. You suck!" She accused; while he just sat there looking amused and pleased with himself. That look of his vexed her to no end.
"I didn't know you like wine." He recognized.
"Yeah, well I didn't know you liked 'wicked' either." She parried.
"It just seems, well, a very mature taste to have." He raised one eyebrow at her, allowing her time to explain, but she didn't. "You're forever drinking Coke and juice. And to top it all off, your behavior is, well...young." He thought that was a safe-enough adjective.
"Hell, I surprise everyone sometimes," she shrugged. "Yes it's true!" She sounded like one giving a confession. "At times I don't bounce about acting like a five year-old, screaming like a banshee, playing tricks and telling jokes and skirting responsibility. Sometimes, I think deep thoughts, stay quiet enough to hold an intelligent conversation, drink wines, dress nicely and act my age. But that's not any fun is it?" She winked at him depravedly. "I try to do that only in dire emergencies."
Snape nodded, while raising one eyebrow. He'd hate to see the emergency that would make her act anything other than what she usually was. "Fair enough."
"Embarrassing enough?" She prodded.
"Not hardly."
"Figures. Severus Snape--the dark man who must always have the last word of everything, and must always have something to hold over your head for leverage. Pity really... He misses out on such 'wicked'," She threw in his direction, "good times while he's brooding over which card to play and how best to keep up his emotional impenetrable wall."
"Spare me, Georgie." He spat. But as he sat back against the couch cushions he seemed to be considering something. A moment later, "Can't you ever hold a conversation without some moral anecdote or something like that?"
"No I can't," She smiled gaily. "It's not my way. Why? Bother you?"
"No." He retorted sternly from where he sat.
He sighed a few minutes later. Georgie noted it as Snape rarely let out such a...What? Humanizing, emotional, weak, friendly emotion. She expected him to make some earth-shattering announcement, but he didn't say a word. Georgie couldn't even hear him breathe, nor did he move; and if she didn't see his eyes blink ever so often, she'd probably think he was dead. That was another thing that bugged her-Her eyes flew up, as suddenly, lightning lit up the sky outside. Damn. Another storm, well no wandering around the grounds tonight, she pouted as the rain slowly began to beat against their high window. She looked at Snape, seemingly lost I his own la-la-land.
Georgie blinked ever few seconds. Sometimes she believed her eyes to be too small, or too dry---probably neither were true. But Snape didn't blink. Sometimes she thought people who didn't blink were creepy--too starring, too robotic. She smiled inwardly at the Muggle word. Snape wouldn't know a robot if it came up and bit him on the kneecap. Perhaps, her mind was reeling, Snape was a robot--planted here by Voldemort to spy in Hogwarts--to get to Potter. Was Snape a robot? Georgie answered herself internally. Nah, Voldemort wouldn't stoop to Muggle inventions-he'd probably use a Golem, or a polyjuice potion.
"Snape? Are you really Severus, or a robot? Or someone else?" She eyed him suspiciously, but trying to keep the laughter inside of her from bubbling out.
"What the devil are you talking about? You're crazy." He widened his eyes and tried to make her feel as small as he could.
"So are you really Severus?" She pushed.
"Yes!" He bellowed, his patience never long-suffering.
"Good." She let her laugh out. "I thought so anyway."
"Are you being paranoid, or foolish?"
"A little of both, thanks for asking." That was truthful enough.
The rain continued on beating down the old castle walls and windows for several weeks. It was a bad stroke of luck and Georgie's sunny demeanor soon mirrored the murky weather outside. One evening Georgie had returned from Herbology, soaked to the skin. She entered into the lounge and slowly swished and dripped over to the high-set window and pressed her nose almost against the glass. It was foggy and the rain came down with no end in sight. Georgie sighed deeply and examined the grounds as she spied Fang-Hagrid's hound-take off across the lawn.
"The weather doesn't suit you?" Georgie almost jumped out of her skin. She spun around and slammed her back to the window as she scanned the room.
Snape was sitting on the couch she'd just walked by. How could she have not seen him? She must be losing it. "Were you here the entire time?" She gasped, shocked.
He smirked, "Yes, the entire time."
She wrung her hands and her head, "Man, I must be losing it..." voicing her fears.
"No, You're just jumpy. Always have been. I knew you hadn't seen me when you dashed in." He droned.
She ignored that and pushed her door open. She hung up her school robes on a hook at the end of her wardrobe--sure it'd make a puddle, but not a large enough one for her to do anything about it. She brushed her hair in front of her tiny mirror for a few moments, yanking out the ever-present snarls. She knew if she paid more attention to grooming habits and all, she would have less tearing-out to do, but she always reasoned with herself that she had better things to do.
She slipped out of her rain-heavy clothing, and threw it in a heap by her wardrobe-she'd hang them up in the bathroom later. She flung open the wardrobe doors and snatched up a woolen sweater and a pair of corduroy pants. They were perhaps 2 sizes too big, but big was the style these days. Poking about until she found a clean pair of socks she slipped them on and strode back to Snape.
She flopped over the back of her couch and rolled onto her stomach. She pulled out her wand and murmured "Incendio," then pocketed it once more.
She flipped onto her back and wriggled her toes now that she was toasty warm. Snape looked at her. "What? Too warm?" She inquired.
"No. Just fine." And he looked away. Georgie shrugged it off. She was probably doing something odd once again and hadn't realized it. She summoned for two hair bands, and on fastening them to her wrists, began to braid her wet hair. She was doing two braids-one on each side of her head, like pigtails. Every few knots, she'd grumble lightly and undo, then start again.
When she tied the second one off, she looked up and Snape was giving her an odd look, but he turned away quickly as if not wishing to be caught.
"Severus?"
"Nothing, you just look... pastoral."
"Uh, thanks. I think..." He voice trailed off.
"And...young." He added, speaking into his lap.
"Gee, that's the look I was going for...." She returned smartly. Georgie settled down against the pillows and closed her eyes, maybe she could just rest here until dinner. It had been a full day....
So many things to think about. Snape's ad had run last week, and already there were a handful of answers. Siobhan and Niamh and herself had giggled over some of them, tossing them aside: too old, too far away, too stupid... This wasn't going to be easy.
But, they'd all given favorable nods to the one received that morning. Everyone at the staff table had by that day finished with teasing Georgie, on account of the numerous owls the first morning all swooping down to her. This lady sounded...well, good. Like a possibility. She was 30 years old and she worked for the ministry. She said she enjoyed the quiet life and also walking outdoors. She read poetry and enjoyed 'refreshing discourse.' Georgie didn't know of Snape liked the outdoors, but he had to. She introduced herself as Orris McDade, which seemed a normal enough name, though a bit old-fashioned. The twins urged her to respond that night after dinner. Her stomach was doing flip-flops. What should she say? How could she puff up Snape? Hmmm....
Snape's voice brought her back to the present she opened her eyes, blinkingly. He towered directly above her. "Georgie?" He repeated.
"Wha'?
"Dinner. You coming?" He extended his cold hand to her. She accepted it gratefully and was lifted to her feet easily. "Wow, you're stronger than you look, stick-boy." She grinned. She stumbled into her room and slipped on her shoes and returned to find Snape standing by the door to the Common Room looking impatient. "Any day now." He growled.
After dinner Georgie hastened back to the dungeons, practically shoveling food into her mouth. Hagrid freaked out when she had choked on her beef, but she held up her hand and sputtering, she smiled and assured him that she was fine.
She hoped Snape wouldn't hover around her and watch what she was doing. She wouldn't do it if he was watching her, obviously. But she wanted to get the ball rolling for him on this. Hell, she didn't get this excited when she were dating herself.
She cautiously turned the door handle and heaved a sigh when she saw he wasn't there. She pushed it open and slid inside. She quickly gathered her quill, a bottle of ink and some fancy parchment, then returned out to sit down in front of the fire on the floor. She spread her tools out before her.
Suddenly the door lurched open and Snape appeared, finding her eyes peering over the end of the couch at him. She looked a bit upset at him showing up, but tried to mask that, because he'd get suspicious and this were more his room than hers. But, oh what timing, her thoughts moaned.
"What are you up to?" He glanced down at her sitting cross-legged on the floor.
"No good." She retorted defiantly.
He nodded and walked to his room.
Georgie didn't move an inch to touch her papers or quills while he was next door. Her mind reeled, trying to figure where she should go. She brought her hand down over the length of her face, and paused, "Damn, I've got a zit." She grumbled, as she discovered the spot.
Snape returned, and strode over until he was directly behind her. She flipped her head straight back and up to look at him in the face.
"You're frowning." He pointed out expressionless.
"Observant, aren't we? I've got a zit." She repeated. But her frown grew deeper, into the look of dread and distaste as she spotted the black cloak over his arm. He had been perhaps hiding it from her view, but not very effectively.
He followed her eyes to the object which he held in his hands. "I'm going out tonight." He set his jaw rigidly. "Could you do the rounds tonight."
Georgie hesitated for a moment, not wanting to say anything. She should tell him, no, do your own damn rounds--and while you're at it, stop going out spying and risking your life! But she felt sad and drained. He was the good guy, doing the good thing-for all of them, even her. "Yes." She whispered. She turned away quickly to the papers and the bottle of ink, sometimes she was so disgusted with herself-she was so selfish-really. She felt ill. She examined her fingernails and poked down the cuticles, expecting Snape to walk away at any moment.
She didn't look up as he swept from the room, but she heard the door close behind him. Man, she'd been hoping he wouldn't be here tonight, but this wasn't what she'd been asking for exactly. She began to feel guilty, but pushed that thought out quickly. Instead she reached her broad palm out and lifted the quill.
Several hours later, Georgie had what she hoped would be the finished draft. She'd sought out Siobhan and Niamh in the Common Room and they'd approved of it, so it would be sent tonight. Niamh was starting to get cold feet. What if Professor Snape found out? What if he found out they'd all been involved? But Georgie calmed her fears and promised that since it was her idea, and she would have done this without their permission or assistance, and since she were prepared and able to handle Snape's certain wrath--she'd claim all responsibility.
The letter was a full sheet of parchment long. It explained how Georgie, a great friend of the shy and elusive Mr. Snape, was doing this on his behalf. It detailed a few more of his habits and, a-hem, charming points, and then went on to say that if she thought a meeting was at all possible Georgie would introduce Ms. McDade as a friend and they'd both see how Snape would take to her.
She crossed her fingers as she winded her way up to the owlery that Ms. McDade was understanding of the situation and willing to meet sometime. Georgie hadn't the foggiest of where or when. She plucked down an owl from the corner and quickly tied the letter to it's feet. The owl nibbled at her hand as she took an extra long time fastening it on properly. Finally satisfied she walked with the owl towards the window, murmuring, "Sorry, the weather's so awful..." The owl seemed to understand and cocked it's head to the side before it took off from her arm into the blustery night.
Now that that's done.... She felt a weight off of her mind now that it was done, but she still felt heavy enough. Perhaps it was something I ate, she posed? Before hoping down the stairs to begin her rounds.
Rounds were a brain-dead activity for Georgie. She never ran into anyone doing anything--except the occasional teacher. Even if she were to come across someone, she didn't think she'd have the heart to dock many--if any--points from their house. She hummed to herself as she kept stealing glances at her watch in the patches of light from torches hung high in main corridors. She'd just be out here, wandering about, for a reasonable time, and then she'd head back and read or burn stuff.... She didn't rightly care which.
Right before she figured it were time to get back-there was a nasty draft coming from somewhere, she mused-she stopped by the kitchens. The house-elves gathered about her. Gee, you'd think they didn't get too many visitors. Georgie felt awful disappointing them, turning down conversation and card games, but she accepted some Banana bread for Snape, though she couldn't stand the stuff.
One elf offered her some Diet Cokes and some juices, even butterbeers, Georgie smiled wanly, and asked if they had anything stronger. The majority of the short creatures just turned to each other, appearing confused. But one confidant boy-elf marched to the front and passed a bottle into her hands. She looked down at it, but it was unmarked. She smiled, devilishly and thanked him, then all of them, as she backed towards the exit.
Walking briskly homeward, she rationalized that tomorrow was a Saturday and she was caught up with schoolwork, no plans... And besides, she sighed, I just want to forget stuff. She set her will and marched off to the dungeons.
It had been 2 o'clock the last time she looked at her watch, and Snape hadn't returned. For all she knew, he might be gone all weekend-she hadn't asked. But really, she'd be better off not fretting and carrying on. The bottle lay on the ground between her couch and the table, empty. The elf was correct, that it was stronger than butterbeer, but not as strong as Muggle stuff. Still, when the bottle was done her eyelids were dropping down heavily and she fought them. The last thing she remembered was watching the flames from her fire dance and twinkle and spin before her eyes, but the fire's cackling and blowing sounds seemed to be out of sync with the actual movements.
Georgie didn't dream, She never dreamed. She knew full well that everyone did in fact dream, just others were better at remembering them afterwards. Still Georgie seemed to think that this rule didn't apply to her. She did not dream. The last dream she could remember was a nightmare when she was 15. Something about having to defend her house against invaders with the help of her football team-it seemed rather silly afterwards. But it wasn't at the time.
But nothing since then. She seemed to fall asleep, and then a few moments later it was time to wake up, though she felt rested and she knew time had passed. A complete blackout. Bummer, she often thought, as friends would share the crazy dreams and the romantic dreams... Nah, my dreams are dreams I have for reality, she'd constantly reassure herself.
His eyes adjusted to the darkness in the room quickly. He had heard her snores immediately on return, but wasn't positive as to where she was. He adjusted and took a few steps in almost slow motion, moving stiffly. He closed his eyes tightly, and his hand shot out to grasp the end of the plush couch. He didn't think he could make it further. But he did. He detected her sprawled out face down on the floor in front of the couch. He almost smiled at that--she must have crashed there in her sleep.
He moved around and stood at her head, but leaned back against the couch for support. Then drawing a deep rasping voice, "Georgie," He spoke at normal tones, though gravely ones. He used his toe and gently tapped her arm a couple of times. She slept like the dead. He frowned, and grimaced at a sharp pain. Wake up, he urged silently. "Georgie," He kept on.
Slowly she roused herself up onto her elbows and groggily looked up. "Hmm?" She whimpered sleepily, her eyes hadn't adjusted yet and she was wondering what in the world could be disturbing her sleep. She was wearing her glasses, she didn't wear those everyday. It took a second for her to adjust them on her nose.
"Georgie," He rasped a last time and coughed, shaking his whole body.
She woke up quickly at that, and recognizing Snape and the situation, she stumbled to her feet, burbling, "Sorry Severus."
His coughing fit ended and grasped his side with his arm. "Oh my God, what?" Georgie's voice took on an edge of panic.
"Nothing. I need you to assist me up to the hospital wing now, then run and get Dumbledore. Can you do that?" He sounded pained.
"Yes," She assented. Nothing, my ass. Then looking around her, she hopped to the front of him, biting her lip in thought. "I'm going to support you if you can walk?"
He nodded, she made out in the darkness. She ducked under his left arm and popped her head out from under his shoulder. He seemed to be injured on that side, so she was careful not to touch his side. She wrapped her arm around his back and tried to steady him. Sounding more confident and strong than she felt, "Ready?" She looked up at him.
He nodded again. His breath was raspy and he stepped gingerly. Damn, she hated seeing him like that, and she guessed he hated being seen like this. Their progress was slow and silent except for their own footfalls. Why couldn't the hospital have a fireplace, she pondered angrily, though not rationally. She was angry, but not at him, and so she was careful to not show any emotion since he might pick up on it. She gritted her teeth as she huffed on.
On reaching the hospital wing, Georgie opened the door and maneuvered them both inside. "Madam Pomfrey!" Georgie hissed loudly. The woman came skirting around a corner, clad in her dressing gown and fuzzy slippers.
"Oh dear!" She took the sight of them both in. She looked from one to the other quickly trying to master which of them was the injured party.
"Snape." Georgie filled in. The witch looked at Snape for a moment, then after glancing his bent-over form up and down, a thought seemed to come to her, because her mouth dropped in shock. She didn't say what it was; though Georgie figured she must have noticed something about or on Snape that gave her a clue to his condition. Georgie wasn't a Mediwizard, so to her it could be asthma or poison for all she knew.
The witch motioned them both towards a bed several feet away, Snape was looking haggard, but he was conscious and helped move over to the bed, Georgie set him up against it and the two women lowered him onto it.
Madam Pomfrey pulled Georgie aside, "He didn't say anything?"
Georgie shook her head, looking confused. "I need to get Dumbledore. Keep him awake--I'll be back in a few minutes."
Georgie took off at a run, but slowed to a trot when she was out of breath. "Damnit Severus." She spoke, and no one--not even the paintings--heard her. She approached Dumbledore's hidden door to his office and rooms, spoke, "candied slugs," then bounded up the stairs, hoping and wishing that he were awake. However it would appear that he wasn't. His door was bolted and Georgie stood before them banging urgently, hopping from foot to foot.
She scratched her shin absently as the doors opened, and with a faint light behind him, stood Albus Dumbledore wearing an old-fashioned nightcap atop his silver hair. "Dear, what can be the matter?" His eyes smiled at her, but his face was serious. He looked at her agitation, and his brows furled in concern.
"Severus has returned. Hurt again. He's with Pomfrey, seems okay, didn't look good though. Think he's out of danger. Don't know what happened, but he wanted you." She explained all in one breath. He nodded and shut the door behind him as he grabbed her arm and they tromped off down the stairs.
Perhaps this was a dream, Georgie asked herself. This felt so surreal, as if she weren't really here. She looked to Dumbledore but his face was set determinedly, and he pushed on forward. Yes, she was sure of it. This was a dream, she sighed with slight relief. She was snug on her couch before the fire, dozing deeply. She was glad of that fact. Otherwise, she'd probably be pretty emotional. She yawned once more.
The entered the Hospital Wing and Dumbledore, unhooked Georgie's arm from his own and left her near the entrance, so he could speak with Madam Pomfrey in lowered tones. Dumbledore turned to Snape and Pomfrey turned to Georgie. "You can just sit here, dear. Dumbledore will want to speak to you in a moment." Indicating the bed next to Snape's. Dumbledore however had drawn the curtain around Snape's and they were whispering hurriedly. Georgie couldn't be bothered to try and eavesdrop, beside this was just a dream so what did it matter. She was so tired....she leaned back on the pillow, and before she knew it she had curled up into a ball and dozed off.
She awoke with a start, she didn't know why she had, she just did. Her heart was beating wildly. Where the hell was she? Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she made out the shapes common to the hospital wing. Holy shit, her heart sank as she remembered. It must have been hours ago.... She sat up and swung her legs over and dangled them above the floor. She looked over her shoulder towards the door, and listened intently for any noise. She barely heard breath coming from the bed next to hers. Snape....God, she hoped he was okay. But she felt the need to get out of here, away from this and the thoughts it made her think. Death Eaters and spying and dying and everything....
Determined not to make any noise she slid off the side of the high bed and landed silently on her sock-covered feet. Taking one step she abruptly stopped--
"Georgie?"
She turned her head and tried to make out Snape's dark form a few paces behind her. Was he hallucinating or dreaming?
She turned slowly around and padded over until she was standing over his bedside and looking down on him. "Severus?" She squinted hard at him and whispered, so quietly that if he were asleep he wouldn't have noticed it. His black eyes were open. And he looked up at her blankly. Perhaps he was under influence of drugs or something.
"Stay." He uttered blandly.
Georgie opened her mouth, about to protest and come up with some reason to go downstairs, to get away, to not give an occasion to talk about this. She paused for a long time standing there unsure what to say. Snape seemed to sense the indecision.
"I wasn't sleeping. Couldn't sleep. Stay."
She brought her fist up to her mouth and just starred at him. Then slowly, nodded at him. She turned her back momentarily on him and lifted a chair up from against the wall and carried it to his bedside, before setting it noiselessly down again. She sat down eye-level to him and in awe. Yes, he probably was drugged, but she'd stay still.
Speak Severus, she tried to send him her thoughts telepathically. If you don't take control, I'll ask the questions, and they'll be ones you won't like.
"Good thing you were there," he began in a whisper. "I don't think I could have walked up here." He stared into the darkness.
She kept her voice down as best as she could, "Where exactly are you hurt?"
He closed his eyes. "Everywhere."
Georgie didn't respond. He kept on. "A few broken ribs, a broken wrist, a little internal bleeding, general pain...."
"I don't understand..." Georgie shook her head as if trying thrust her bad thoughts and feelings out of her mind and send them flying across the room.
"Voldemort was upset," He explained calmly as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Five of his people are in the Ministry and they all failed to get an essential bit of information he requested to have about a month ago. Since none of them got it, we all had to pay...."
"How?" She whispered, barely audible. She didn't know is she'd actually voiced it out-loud or not.
"You don't want to know." He starred off straight in front of him.
Georgie believed she already knew anyhow-it was something very bad. "Yes," She insisted slightly angrily. "I do."
"Incendigrito."
Her hand raised to slowly cover her mouth. Not a word passed between the two of them for a while. It wasn't an unforgivable; It should have been though. It was not like the Killing Curse or Cruciatus, but it was still a form of torture. It made the person feel like their blood was on fire beneath their skin. At least he wasn't in mortal danger.
She finally gathered her voice and wits about her, "B-but, you didn't do anything?" She stuttered. "You didn't do anything." She repeated it, sounding more disbelieving.
He rolled his eyes, not maliciously at her. "Do you think He cares about that?"
"But you don't work for the ministry, you weren't involved, it wasn't your fault..." She hissed.
He sighed at that, and reached out his hand and set it down lightly and comfortingly on top of her head.
"He does that to remind us who is the Master, and that failures will not be tolerated. It's not all that uncommon really...."
Georgie starred wide-eyed at him. How could he say that so casually?! It was torture for goodness sake! You don't get used to that. This was sick, and she felt hot and angry. She wanted to shake him and beat him until he understood how horrible this was. How awful, she couldn't imagine. She felt tears well up in her eyes, and she sucked on her lip, trying not to let them spill over. She sniffed. "I wish I could fucking kill him."
"So do I." He permitted, removing his hand. "But you couldn't do it, thank God. You are not a killer Georgie."
"Fuck you, Severus. I could kill Voldemort. I want to kill him." She whispered passionately, biting her lip harder. She didn't want him to see her cry, to see her weak. At least it was pitch black in here. It was probably irrational and cold, but she didn't care and so she clung to that.
"This war has been long and demanding. I've been fighting it for most of my life. I can hardly remember what it was like before..." He looked piercingly at her, his eyes were so black. "I want it to end. If I could, I would tomorrow. But at this point the killings and tortures would continue. Now is not the time. I wish it were...."
She nodded her sentiments, and her tears finally spilled over. Snape didn't appear to notice, thank goodness, she thought as she as inconspicuously as possible brought the back of her hands up to her betraying eyes. "I hate you." She spat at him.
Snape grinned widely into the darkness. "If it were only that easy in life," He murmured, but she didn't understand, and so let it drop.
Georgie scratched her arm and frowned. Snape, tried to change subjects, "So what trouble did you get up to tonight?" He prodded her.
"Nothing, wrote letters, did rounds, raided the kitchens, sang an opera, went fishing for lake trout." She tried to smile like she usually did, but it came out sort of half-assed.
"Ah, an opera. I'm sure that would be a horrific experience, so I'm quite glad that I missed it in its entirety." He smirked.
"Hey," she insisted, taking the bait unknowingly. "I wouldn't be that bad! Sure I'm not the best singer in the world, but I'm sure I'm not the worst either! Geesh, you're a butt. It was Turandot, and I was singing along with my Muggle player--you weren't there! How'd you know if I were good or not, I mean granted I'm not good-good, but still...." He shushed her when her voice seemed to be raising too high.
She grinned at him, when she realized how easily she could be maneuvered in a discourse--especially one where they'd argue. She shot him a look, and with a humph, leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.
He chuckled to himself silently at her expression. "You are irreplaceable as a friend--you are so easily swayed in conversation, easy to lead about in all things that are for the good of all, and helping whenever I show up bleeding to death."
"Ha. Ha." Georgie said bitterly, but with the corners of her mouth turned up slightly. But it was dark she figured he couldn't see that. "I'm not so easily lead about, like a stupid horse on a tether..." She griped.
"I never said you were stupid. I'm saying you usually have sense enough to be lead out of pointless conversations and situations. You are valuable that you listen and accept good advice and sensible suggestions when you hear them. Now shut up and accept the compliment." He growled.
She blinked for a minute in the dark, "Thank you."
He sat back and closed his eyes. "Now about this lake trout you fished for--I presume it's stinking carcass isn't anywhere in the dungeons?" She covered her mouth with her hand as she giggled and her eyes squinted up in mirth.
They chatted for awhile more about everything and anything. Georgie still suspected that he was under the influence of some drug or another, but she was okay with that. Thy just kept their voices down, and though she couldn't see her watch she surmised that dawn wasn't far off. But if it were to be another stormy day, light would be still a long ways off.
Georgie hadn't realized when she had fallen asleep that that was what she was indeed doing. Her head had been propped up her chin on her wrists on the edge of the bed for the latter half of the conversation. She had paused mid-sentence, yawned and shut her eyes and never finished what she was trying to say.
Snape looked down in surprise at the funny sight she'd just made, and smiled genuinely to himself in the dark. Such an odd girl. Probably very tired. She began to snore quietly. Yes, very tired. How amusing, Snape thought to himself. Girls don't usually fall asleep at your bedside, how out of the everyday.
He settled himself down on his pillows, taking cares not to disturb the snoring creature at his side nor his own aching body. Finally Severus Snape fell into a deep and drug-induced restful sleep.
PLEASE R/R--it makes me happy. Usually.
A/N: I'm having a girl friend imput now (Yea), as she thinks I'm 'lacking insight and feeling'. Hoorah. I'm humouring her for a few chapters. Mush, IMHO.
Georgie descended the owlery steps and walked down the hallway towards the main staircase. She paused as she crossed Minerva's open door. Minerva wasn't there but the light was on. Perhaps she was out on her own evening rounds or chatting with Dumbledore. Whenever Snape wasn't about in the evening, he was usually chatting with his friend Albus, playing chess, or doing manly things...or else he were out on an assignment. She always hoped he was up there kicking Dumbledore's ass at Wizarding chess when discovered t be absent.
She skirted back to dungeons, and called out goodnights to several students in the Common Room. She burst through the door smirking dopily. Snape looked up at her then returned his attentions to his book.
"So..." She walked behind the couch he was perched on. "When are we going to be doing some horrifically dangerous and illegal potion-brewing?"
Them man glanced up, slightly surprised, but pleased. "In that big of a hurry?"
"Yup, I love making things go boom!" She teased, then covered up quickly by adding sternly, "And not go boom also...I miss it. I have only gotten to make some sleeping potions and some other stuff..." Her voice trailed off. There were some things she tried to keep as her own secrets around here.
"What would you like to work on?"
"Something corrosive."
He starred at her shocked. "Why?" setting his book aside.
"Poisons, I'd be too tempted to use on you. Combustibles, on Draco Malfoy." Draco had said something about her accent the day before, and she was still a little sore about it. "Invisibles, on Hogsmeade. Everything else is too simple for me. Fame, Glory, Power, Love...don't need any of those as they're not real anyway...." Her eyes were squinting up in glee. "I see Corrosives as the only thing that I can't come up with a violently active use for. Can you?" She baited.
He ignored that, then suggested, "How about Healing? Levitation? Mind Altercations? Temptations? Illusions?" She shook her head on each one as she sat down.
"I'll get to those all in turn, but what I'd really, really love to do first would be a corrosive." She crossed her arms across her chest stubbornly.
"Again, I ask you the real reason why."
"Truth?"
"Always." He stared hard down at her.
"I want a tunnel in my room to the kitchens." She said without emotion.
Snape's head fell backwards and he shook with silent laughter. Georgie pouted at him. "It's not funny. It's true."
He gathered his wits about him, never losing control for longer then a few seconds ever-though more than usual with Georgie. "Of course, I will assist you in anyway I can. Anything to get you out of here more often."
"How noble," Georgie mocked.
"Yeah, you know me. Noble." He spat.
"Hey, Snape?"
"Why am I starting to dread those words and that tone?" He challenged.
"Shut-up. Anyway, you remember when once I told you to die, and you said if I wished it?" She watched his face for any sort of recognition to the conversation she alluded to. He slowly nodded, his mouth a thin line.
"Don't ever say that again--even as a joke. I still have bad vibes about it." He raised his eyebrows on hearing that. Georgie jumped up to her feet, mumbling about grabbing her schoolbooks for Herbology tomorrow.
She returned with two books under her arm and set into reading, her brow furled in concentration. Every so often she'd scratch her head, or frown, or smile all in response to her reading. Once again Snape was struck by how expressive her face was. It wasn't merely her eyes-as they squinted up into unreadable slits when she smiled or laughed. It was her mouth. She grinned unabashedly, twisted the sides up amusedly, bit her lip--It was like watching a show at the theatre. She set her finger on the top of her broad, flat nose and left it there, tapping it occasionally when in deep thought.
"Georgie?"
She looked up and whisked her finger off of her nose.
"Why do you only call me Snape?" He had wondered that for sometime and was waiting for an opportune time to bring it up. This really wasn't that time, but oh well.
"Huh?" She grunted, clearly not following his train of thinking.
"You call me Snape and some other rather foul names, but mostly Snape. Never Severus." He pronounced matter-of-factly.
She looked down for a second, "Uh, Everyone else calls you Snape. You told me not to call you Severus in front of other students. Hmmm..." She broke off for a second. "I don't know why I only call you Snape. What would you like me to call you?" She reasoned.
"Snape." Georgie snorted at this. "Or Severus." He added.
"Okily, dokily, Dorkily." She rolled her eyes ceiling-ward and shook her head lightly. "You didn't call me Sugar Lips though. See, I do have a good memory." She pointed out.
"Not happening. Ever. But nice try."
"Severus?"
"What?"
"Sugar Lips?" hopefully.
"Georgie!" He snarled exasperatedly.
"I want a snack. Want something?" She changed the subject unwillingly.
"No." He looked coolly at her.
"Come on. How about some Ginger or Banana Bread? I know you like it, so I'll ask for some if they've got it." She stood up hastily, dumping her things on the floor. She bent over awkwardly and set the books on top of the table. "See? This would be the time to use my secret passageway to the kitchens. But no-oo. I have to use my feet just like everyone else, damnit."
Standing straight up, she sighed, then hurled herself over the back of the couch and lunged at the door. "I'm off. Be back in few. Aloha." And she left.
She returned with a large bag in her hands and used her foot to open the door. "Aloha. I swear that it pays to live with you. Perhaps I'd get stopped in the hallways if I were a mere normal student. But I live with Snape. It's like I have free reign of the castle, go where I want, whenever I want--no one stops me." She set the things down on the table, and knocked aside her books. "I'm thinking they're all scared of you or some such nonsense..." She sat down out of breath.
"Why did you say Aloha again?"
"It's a Hawaiian greeting for 'hullo' and 'goodbye.' Oh, and 'love' too."
"Doesn't that become confusing?" He asked, sitting forward so he could rifle through the bag, setting aside the Diet Cokes in front of his friend.
"Nah. It's all in the situation. If you just walk up to someone on the street then you greet them with the Aloha meaning hello. When your conversation is done, Aloha--goodbye. The second Aloha in a single conversation with is someone is usually the goodbye one, as a-rule-of-thumb. If you're saying Aloha--love to someone, they probably know that you already love them, and you don't need to explain it." She unwrapped some cakes. "Makes sense, huh? It's all in the context."
Snape had found the Gingerbread and was unwrapping it. "If I eat like this with you for the next year, I'll get fat." He mused good-naturedly and indicated the loaf.
"Hardly." Georgie mumbled with her mouth full of food. She swallowed and laughed. "You're a walking stick-figure of a man. No meat at all on your thin person. It'd take longer than a year to get you 'fat.' Skinny, skinny, skinny..." She belched loudly.
He frowned and looked down at his body, as if he had forgotten what he looked like.
"You might also try integrating color into your wardrobe. Black is a slimming color-makes you look skinnier than you are by illusion or something-Muggle magazine said so." She grinned sheepishly.
"Thank you, but I have no desire nor need for a make-over." He was still looking down at himself.
He looked at her alternating between crisps and Diet Cokes now. "Are your family Muggles?" He couldn't believe he hadn't asked her before.
She chewed slower and narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. "Does it matter?"
"No." He answered truthfully, trying to convey that in his tone.
"Okily, here's what happened. My Mom is Canadian, she's full blood. She doesn't give a rat's ass about that because in Canada, no one cares. My dad's English. He's full blood too, but he's lived in Canada for the past almost 30 years. I was adopted; my mom and dad couldn't have kids-real sad. My biological parents were killed-don't know the story, so don't ask. I don't care. As far as records are kept in adoptions, well in Wizard adoptions--which don't go far at all--I'm full. But I honestly doubt I am. I love Twinkies too much, must be a Muggle somewhere to give me that love of sugary goodness. Besides, most Polynesians are mixed anyway. It just happens when you're stuck on islands..."
She took a bite and chewed for a few moments in silence before continuing. "I think full-blood means absolutely nothing. Hell, I'd rather spend my time with Muggles than almost 90% of the Wizards. Magic makes people stop using their imaginations and ingenuity. Magic makes us lazy. Muggles are exciting. I dunno, that's just how I feel about it." And she got suddenly very interested in her crisps.
"Filch is full-blood." Snape volunteered.
Georgie looked up amazed. "Really? Who'd have thought?" She chuckled to herself. Just more proof....
"I hate Slytherins." She spat.
"Why?" His eyes flashed. She knew he was proud of his House.
"Full-blood crap, alienating perfectly fine people. It's not a very just or logical system."
He nodded silently. "True. Slytherin inherently has deep problems--more so than all the other houses combined. But it makes you who you are, therefore one should be proud." He seemed to be parroting someone else.
"You're proud of the friends you had here? Of the things they pressured you to do? Of what you did?" Georgie asked delicately.
Snape didn't seem to be offended. "I figure that I am a different and a improved person for what I've experienced and lived through. It has shaped me and changed me, from the moment I walked into the school for the first time, to my arm being marked by Voldemort, to my running back to Dumbledore tail between my legs begging him to put me out of my misery." Georgie hadn't known that, and bit her lip. "Then the spying..."
"What about those who still subscribe to Voldemort's lies? What about those who died for his cause? What of them? What of the people they killed?"
"I'm not saying it was the right thing to do. But I feel that in my special case, my experiences have made me see the truth in things. They've helped me to value true friendships, to not want an easy way out, to be cautious with my life and with others'. I think for some people they have to take a visit to hell before they truly realize how very horrible and hot it can get-they have to sink down as far as possible, before it's possible for them to climb out of the pit, so to say. It's like how some people don't know what they have until it's gone."
"So many though, never climbed out of that pit, and preferred to stay in that hell. Is that worth it? Is the experiences, the curiosity, worth the dying?" She didn't see how this would justify so many Death Eaters, so many stealth killings, over so many years...and it was still happening.
"I would say yes. At least they're truthful-that's their true forms. They were and are sick and horribly evil people. Myself included. But the experiences that I've made it out alive from, I've learned from them taken from them what I could. I'd be a different person if I were sorted into Ravenclaw. Perhaps, I'd be endlessly happy, with 20 children, a nice wife and know not a thing about Potions, who knows? Which is better? Who knows? It's the choices we make that bring us to where we are today-that make us who we are today."
"But, So long as there's good, there's going to bad to keep the goodness in check. I don't want to say it was bound to happen anyway, but well, that's really the true gist of things. Logically, Bad happens. And Bad needs Bad People to do it's bidding. I was just stupid enough to follow." He ended solemnly.
Georgie nodded understandingly. "Severus, how'd you get to be so wise?" She said slowly and seriously.
"Experiences." He sort of grinned.
"I'm chucking this book idea," She threw her schoolbooks over her shoulder and into her open doorway. "Experiences are way better."
"I think not." He said slowly. Picking at his Gingerbread once more. Then settling back onto his couch, he stretched out and posed nonchalantly, "May I ask you something?"
"Anything." She grinned. She knew he wouldn't, out of propriety or whatever, ask her certain things, so she could say that with no fears. But he had need to worry at a question such as that because Georgie didn't believe in a question that couldn't be asked. However she was indeed taken aback on this one.
"What do you look for in a man?"
"Breathing's always good." She chided.
"Be serious!"
"I am!" She insisted, "That's really at the top of my list. Why?"
He glared at her unhappily. She glared right back at him.
"I wish to embarrass you." He said matter-of-factly.
"Oh well, then let me just assist you..." She shot him a dirty look. "Geesh!"
"So...?"
"I'm not looking for a man." She still teased. "Okay fine, um....How about: Tall, dark and handsome? Disco-dancer, or maybe an artist or a musician....dishy, dreamy boy. Smart, good, kind, funny as all hell...." She twisted her lower lip between her teeth. "A lot of my answers would be the same as yours-pretty common answers really. I've not given it all that much thought." Her eyes took on an unusual misted-over shade. "Perhaps, someone who needed me-it's nice to be needed. Someone who enjoyed music and reading and wine...good conversation... Damnit!"
She snapped out of her day-dreaming, and turned on Snape. "I'm copying yours! Now I can't even come up with one on my own. You suck!" She accused; while he just sat there looking amused and pleased with himself. That look of his vexed her to no end.
"I didn't know you like wine." He recognized.
"Yeah, well I didn't know you liked 'wicked' either." She parried.
"It just seems, well, a very mature taste to have." He raised one eyebrow at her, allowing her time to explain, but she didn't. "You're forever drinking Coke and juice. And to top it all off, your behavior is, well...young." He thought that was a safe-enough adjective.
"Hell, I surprise everyone sometimes," she shrugged. "Yes it's true!" She sounded like one giving a confession. "At times I don't bounce about acting like a five year-old, screaming like a banshee, playing tricks and telling jokes and skirting responsibility. Sometimes, I think deep thoughts, stay quiet enough to hold an intelligent conversation, drink wines, dress nicely and act my age. But that's not any fun is it?" She winked at him depravedly. "I try to do that only in dire emergencies."
Snape nodded, while raising one eyebrow. He'd hate to see the emergency that would make her act anything other than what she usually was. "Fair enough."
"Embarrassing enough?" She prodded.
"Not hardly."
"Figures. Severus Snape--the dark man who must always have the last word of everything, and must always have something to hold over your head for leverage. Pity really... He misses out on such 'wicked'," She threw in his direction, "good times while he's brooding over which card to play and how best to keep up his emotional impenetrable wall."
"Spare me, Georgie." He spat. But as he sat back against the couch cushions he seemed to be considering something. A moment later, "Can't you ever hold a conversation without some moral anecdote or something like that?"
"No I can't," She smiled gaily. "It's not my way. Why? Bother you?"
"No." He retorted sternly from where he sat.
He sighed a few minutes later. Georgie noted it as Snape rarely let out such a...What? Humanizing, emotional, weak, friendly emotion. She expected him to make some earth-shattering announcement, but he didn't say a word. Georgie couldn't even hear him breathe, nor did he move; and if she didn't see his eyes blink ever so often, she'd probably think he was dead. That was another thing that bugged her-Her eyes flew up, as suddenly, lightning lit up the sky outside. Damn. Another storm, well no wandering around the grounds tonight, she pouted as the rain slowly began to beat against their high window. She looked at Snape, seemingly lost I his own la-la-land.
Georgie blinked ever few seconds. Sometimes she believed her eyes to be too small, or too dry---probably neither were true. But Snape didn't blink. Sometimes she thought people who didn't blink were creepy--too starring, too robotic. She smiled inwardly at the Muggle word. Snape wouldn't know a robot if it came up and bit him on the kneecap. Perhaps, her mind was reeling, Snape was a robot--planted here by Voldemort to spy in Hogwarts--to get to Potter. Was Snape a robot? Georgie answered herself internally. Nah, Voldemort wouldn't stoop to Muggle inventions-he'd probably use a Golem, or a polyjuice potion.
"Snape? Are you really Severus, or a robot? Or someone else?" She eyed him suspiciously, but trying to keep the laughter inside of her from bubbling out.
"What the devil are you talking about? You're crazy." He widened his eyes and tried to make her feel as small as he could.
"So are you really Severus?" She pushed.
"Yes!" He bellowed, his patience never long-suffering.
"Good." She let her laugh out. "I thought so anyway."
"Are you being paranoid, or foolish?"
"A little of both, thanks for asking." That was truthful enough.
The rain continued on beating down the old castle walls and windows for several weeks. It was a bad stroke of luck and Georgie's sunny demeanor soon mirrored the murky weather outside. One evening Georgie had returned from Herbology, soaked to the skin. She entered into the lounge and slowly swished and dripped over to the high-set window and pressed her nose almost against the glass. It was foggy and the rain came down with no end in sight. Georgie sighed deeply and examined the grounds as she spied Fang-Hagrid's hound-take off across the lawn.
"The weather doesn't suit you?" Georgie almost jumped out of her skin. She spun around and slammed her back to the window as she scanned the room.
Snape was sitting on the couch she'd just walked by. How could she have not seen him? She must be losing it. "Were you here the entire time?" She gasped, shocked.
He smirked, "Yes, the entire time."
She wrung her hands and her head, "Man, I must be losing it..." voicing her fears.
"No, You're just jumpy. Always have been. I knew you hadn't seen me when you dashed in." He droned.
She ignored that and pushed her door open. She hung up her school robes on a hook at the end of her wardrobe--sure it'd make a puddle, but not a large enough one for her to do anything about it. She brushed her hair in front of her tiny mirror for a few moments, yanking out the ever-present snarls. She knew if she paid more attention to grooming habits and all, she would have less tearing-out to do, but she always reasoned with herself that she had better things to do.
She slipped out of her rain-heavy clothing, and threw it in a heap by her wardrobe-she'd hang them up in the bathroom later. She flung open the wardrobe doors and snatched up a woolen sweater and a pair of corduroy pants. They were perhaps 2 sizes too big, but big was the style these days. Poking about until she found a clean pair of socks she slipped them on and strode back to Snape.
She flopped over the back of her couch and rolled onto her stomach. She pulled out her wand and murmured "Incendio," then pocketed it once more.
She flipped onto her back and wriggled her toes now that she was toasty warm. Snape looked at her. "What? Too warm?" She inquired.
"No. Just fine." And he looked away. Georgie shrugged it off. She was probably doing something odd once again and hadn't realized it. She summoned for two hair bands, and on fastening them to her wrists, began to braid her wet hair. She was doing two braids-one on each side of her head, like pigtails. Every few knots, she'd grumble lightly and undo, then start again.
When she tied the second one off, she looked up and Snape was giving her an odd look, but he turned away quickly as if not wishing to be caught.
"Severus?"
"Nothing, you just look... pastoral."
"Uh, thanks. I think..." He voice trailed off.
"And...young." He added, speaking into his lap.
"Gee, that's the look I was going for...." She returned smartly. Georgie settled down against the pillows and closed her eyes, maybe she could just rest here until dinner. It had been a full day....
So many things to think about. Snape's ad had run last week, and already there were a handful of answers. Siobhan and Niamh and herself had giggled over some of them, tossing them aside: too old, too far away, too stupid... This wasn't going to be easy.
But, they'd all given favorable nods to the one received that morning. Everyone at the staff table had by that day finished with teasing Georgie, on account of the numerous owls the first morning all swooping down to her. This lady sounded...well, good. Like a possibility. She was 30 years old and she worked for the ministry. She said she enjoyed the quiet life and also walking outdoors. She read poetry and enjoyed 'refreshing discourse.' Georgie didn't know of Snape liked the outdoors, but he had to. She introduced herself as Orris McDade, which seemed a normal enough name, though a bit old-fashioned. The twins urged her to respond that night after dinner. Her stomach was doing flip-flops. What should she say? How could she puff up Snape? Hmmm....
Snape's voice brought her back to the present she opened her eyes, blinkingly. He towered directly above her. "Georgie?" He repeated.
"Wha'?
"Dinner. You coming?" He extended his cold hand to her. She accepted it gratefully and was lifted to her feet easily. "Wow, you're stronger than you look, stick-boy." She grinned. She stumbled into her room and slipped on her shoes and returned to find Snape standing by the door to the Common Room looking impatient. "Any day now." He growled.
After dinner Georgie hastened back to the dungeons, practically shoveling food into her mouth. Hagrid freaked out when she had choked on her beef, but she held up her hand and sputtering, she smiled and assured him that she was fine.
She hoped Snape wouldn't hover around her and watch what she was doing. She wouldn't do it if he was watching her, obviously. But she wanted to get the ball rolling for him on this. Hell, she didn't get this excited when she were dating herself.
She cautiously turned the door handle and heaved a sigh when she saw he wasn't there. She pushed it open and slid inside. She quickly gathered her quill, a bottle of ink and some fancy parchment, then returned out to sit down in front of the fire on the floor. She spread her tools out before her.
Suddenly the door lurched open and Snape appeared, finding her eyes peering over the end of the couch at him. She looked a bit upset at him showing up, but tried to mask that, because he'd get suspicious and this were more his room than hers. But, oh what timing, her thoughts moaned.
"What are you up to?" He glanced down at her sitting cross-legged on the floor.
"No good." She retorted defiantly.
He nodded and walked to his room.
Georgie didn't move an inch to touch her papers or quills while he was next door. Her mind reeled, trying to figure where she should go. She brought her hand down over the length of her face, and paused, "Damn, I've got a zit." She grumbled, as she discovered the spot.
Snape returned, and strode over until he was directly behind her. She flipped her head straight back and up to look at him in the face.
"You're frowning." He pointed out expressionless.
"Observant, aren't we? I've got a zit." She repeated. But her frown grew deeper, into the look of dread and distaste as she spotted the black cloak over his arm. He had been perhaps hiding it from her view, but not very effectively.
He followed her eyes to the object which he held in his hands. "I'm going out tonight." He set his jaw rigidly. "Could you do the rounds tonight."
Georgie hesitated for a moment, not wanting to say anything. She should tell him, no, do your own damn rounds--and while you're at it, stop going out spying and risking your life! But she felt sad and drained. He was the good guy, doing the good thing-for all of them, even her. "Yes." She whispered. She turned away quickly to the papers and the bottle of ink, sometimes she was so disgusted with herself-she was so selfish-really. She felt ill. She examined her fingernails and poked down the cuticles, expecting Snape to walk away at any moment.
She didn't look up as he swept from the room, but she heard the door close behind him. Man, she'd been hoping he wouldn't be here tonight, but this wasn't what she'd been asking for exactly. She began to feel guilty, but pushed that thought out quickly. Instead she reached her broad palm out and lifted the quill.
Several hours later, Georgie had what she hoped would be the finished draft. She'd sought out Siobhan and Niamh in the Common Room and they'd approved of it, so it would be sent tonight. Niamh was starting to get cold feet. What if Professor Snape found out? What if he found out they'd all been involved? But Georgie calmed her fears and promised that since it was her idea, and she would have done this without their permission or assistance, and since she were prepared and able to handle Snape's certain wrath--she'd claim all responsibility.
The letter was a full sheet of parchment long. It explained how Georgie, a great friend of the shy and elusive Mr. Snape, was doing this on his behalf. It detailed a few more of his habits and, a-hem, charming points, and then went on to say that if she thought a meeting was at all possible Georgie would introduce Ms. McDade as a friend and they'd both see how Snape would take to her.
She crossed her fingers as she winded her way up to the owlery that Ms. McDade was understanding of the situation and willing to meet sometime. Georgie hadn't the foggiest of where or when. She plucked down an owl from the corner and quickly tied the letter to it's feet. The owl nibbled at her hand as she took an extra long time fastening it on properly. Finally satisfied she walked with the owl towards the window, murmuring, "Sorry, the weather's so awful..." The owl seemed to understand and cocked it's head to the side before it took off from her arm into the blustery night.
Now that that's done.... She felt a weight off of her mind now that it was done, but she still felt heavy enough. Perhaps it was something I ate, she posed? Before hoping down the stairs to begin her rounds.
Rounds were a brain-dead activity for Georgie. She never ran into anyone doing anything--except the occasional teacher. Even if she were to come across someone, she didn't think she'd have the heart to dock many--if any--points from their house. She hummed to herself as she kept stealing glances at her watch in the patches of light from torches hung high in main corridors. She'd just be out here, wandering about, for a reasonable time, and then she'd head back and read or burn stuff.... She didn't rightly care which.
Right before she figured it were time to get back-there was a nasty draft coming from somewhere, she mused-she stopped by the kitchens. The house-elves gathered about her. Gee, you'd think they didn't get too many visitors. Georgie felt awful disappointing them, turning down conversation and card games, but she accepted some Banana bread for Snape, though she couldn't stand the stuff.
One elf offered her some Diet Cokes and some juices, even butterbeers, Georgie smiled wanly, and asked if they had anything stronger. The majority of the short creatures just turned to each other, appearing confused. But one confidant boy-elf marched to the front and passed a bottle into her hands. She looked down at it, but it was unmarked. She smiled, devilishly and thanked him, then all of them, as she backed towards the exit.
Walking briskly homeward, she rationalized that tomorrow was a Saturday and she was caught up with schoolwork, no plans... And besides, she sighed, I just want to forget stuff. She set her will and marched off to the dungeons.
It had been 2 o'clock the last time she looked at her watch, and Snape hadn't returned. For all she knew, he might be gone all weekend-she hadn't asked. But really, she'd be better off not fretting and carrying on. The bottle lay on the ground between her couch and the table, empty. The elf was correct, that it was stronger than butterbeer, but not as strong as Muggle stuff. Still, when the bottle was done her eyelids were dropping down heavily and she fought them. The last thing she remembered was watching the flames from her fire dance and twinkle and spin before her eyes, but the fire's cackling and blowing sounds seemed to be out of sync with the actual movements.
Georgie didn't dream, She never dreamed. She knew full well that everyone did in fact dream, just others were better at remembering them afterwards. Still Georgie seemed to think that this rule didn't apply to her. She did not dream. The last dream she could remember was a nightmare when she was 15. Something about having to defend her house against invaders with the help of her football team-it seemed rather silly afterwards. But it wasn't at the time.
But nothing since then. She seemed to fall asleep, and then a few moments later it was time to wake up, though she felt rested and she knew time had passed. A complete blackout. Bummer, she often thought, as friends would share the crazy dreams and the romantic dreams... Nah, my dreams are dreams I have for reality, she'd constantly reassure herself.
His eyes adjusted to the darkness in the room quickly. He had heard her snores immediately on return, but wasn't positive as to where she was. He adjusted and took a few steps in almost slow motion, moving stiffly. He closed his eyes tightly, and his hand shot out to grasp the end of the plush couch. He didn't think he could make it further. But he did. He detected her sprawled out face down on the floor in front of the couch. He almost smiled at that--she must have crashed there in her sleep.
He moved around and stood at her head, but leaned back against the couch for support. Then drawing a deep rasping voice, "Georgie," He spoke at normal tones, though gravely ones. He used his toe and gently tapped her arm a couple of times. She slept like the dead. He frowned, and grimaced at a sharp pain. Wake up, he urged silently. "Georgie," He kept on.
Slowly she roused herself up onto her elbows and groggily looked up. "Hmm?" She whimpered sleepily, her eyes hadn't adjusted yet and she was wondering what in the world could be disturbing her sleep. She was wearing her glasses, she didn't wear those everyday. It took a second for her to adjust them on her nose.
"Georgie," He rasped a last time and coughed, shaking his whole body.
She woke up quickly at that, and recognizing Snape and the situation, she stumbled to her feet, burbling, "Sorry Severus."
His coughing fit ended and grasped his side with his arm. "Oh my God, what?" Georgie's voice took on an edge of panic.
"Nothing. I need you to assist me up to the hospital wing now, then run and get Dumbledore. Can you do that?" He sounded pained.
"Yes," She assented. Nothing, my ass. Then looking around her, she hopped to the front of him, biting her lip in thought. "I'm going to support you if you can walk?"
He nodded, she made out in the darkness. She ducked under his left arm and popped her head out from under his shoulder. He seemed to be injured on that side, so she was careful not to touch his side. She wrapped her arm around his back and tried to steady him. Sounding more confident and strong than she felt, "Ready?" She looked up at him.
He nodded again. His breath was raspy and he stepped gingerly. Damn, she hated seeing him like that, and she guessed he hated being seen like this. Their progress was slow and silent except for their own footfalls. Why couldn't the hospital have a fireplace, she pondered angrily, though not rationally. She was angry, but not at him, and so she was careful to not show any emotion since he might pick up on it. She gritted her teeth as she huffed on.
On reaching the hospital wing, Georgie opened the door and maneuvered them both inside. "Madam Pomfrey!" Georgie hissed loudly. The woman came skirting around a corner, clad in her dressing gown and fuzzy slippers.
"Oh dear!" She took the sight of them both in. She looked from one to the other quickly trying to master which of them was the injured party.
"Snape." Georgie filled in. The witch looked at Snape for a moment, then after glancing his bent-over form up and down, a thought seemed to come to her, because her mouth dropped in shock. She didn't say what it was; though Georgie figured she must have noticed something about or on Snape that gave her a clue to his condition. Georgie wasn't a Mediwizard, so to her it could be asthma or poison for all she knew.
The witch motioned them both towards a bed several feet away, Snape was looking haggard, but he was conscious and helped move over to the bed, Georgie set him up against it and the two women lowered him onto it.
Madam Pomfrey pulled Georgie aside, "He didn't say anything?"
Georgie shook her head, looking confused. "I need to get Dumbledore. Keep him awake--I'll be back in a few minutes."
Georgie took off at a run, but slowed to a trot when she was out of breath. "Damnit Severus." She spoke, and no one--not even the paintings--heard her. She approached Dumbledore's hidden door to his office and rooms, spoke, "candied slugs," then bounded up the stairs, hoping and wishing that he were awake. However it would appear that he wasn't. His door was bolted and Georgie stood before them banging urgently, hopping from foot to foot.
She scratched her shin absently as the doors opened, and with a faint light behind him, stood Albus Dumbledore wearing an old-fashioned nightcap atop his silver hair. "Dear, what can be the matter?" His eyes smiled at her, but his face was serious. He looked at her agitation, and his brows furled in concern.
"Severus has returned. Hurt again. He's with Pomfrey, seems okay, didn't look good though. Think he's out of danger. Don't know what happened, but he wanted you." She explained all in one breath. He nodded and shut the door behind him as he grabbed her arm and they tromped off down the stairs.
Perhaps this was a dream, Georgie asked herself. This felt so surreal, as if she weren't really here. She looked to Dumbledore but his face was set determinedly, and he pushed on forward. Yes, she was sure of it. This was a dream, she sighed with slight relief. She was snug on her couch before the fire, dozing deeply. She was glad of that fact. Otherwise, she'd probably be pretty emotional. She yawned once more.
The entered the Hospital Wing and Dumbledore, unhooked Georgie's arm from his own and left her near the entrance, so he could speak with Madam Pomfrey in lowered tones. Dumbledore turned to Snape and Pomfrey turned to Georgie. "You can just sit here, dear. Dumbledore will want to speak to you in a moment." Indicating the bed next to Snape's. Dumbledore however had drawn the curtain around Snape's and they were whispering hurriedly. Georgie couldn't be bothered to try and eavesdrop, beside this was just a dream so what did it matter. She was so tired....she leaned back on the pillow, and before she knew it she had curled up into a ball and dozed off.
She awoke with a start, she didn't know why she had, she just did. Her heart was beating wildly. Where the hell was she? Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she made out the shapes common to the hospital wing. Holy shit, her heart sank as she remembered. It must have been hours ago.... She sat up and swung her legs over and dangled them above the floor. She looked over her shoulder towards the door, and listened intently for any noise. She barely heard breath coming from the bed next to hers. Snape....God, she hoped he was okay. But she felt the need to get out of here, away from this and the thoughts it made her think. Death Eaters and spying and dying and everything....
Determined not to make any noise she slid off the side of the high bed and landed silently on her sock-covered feet. Taking one step she abruptly stopped--
"Georgie?"
She turned her head and tried to make out Snape's dark form a few paces behind her. Was he hallucinating or dreaming?
She turned slowly around and padded over until she was standing over his bedside and looking down on him. "Severus?" She squinted hard at him and whispered, so quietly that if he were asleep he wouldn't have noticed it. His black eyes were open. And he looked up at her blankly. Perhaps he was under influence of drugs or something.
"Stay." He uttered blandly.
Georgie opened her mouth, about to protest and come up with some reason to go downstairs, to get away, to not give an occasion to talk about this. She paused for a long time standing there unsure what to say. Snape seemed to sense the indecision.
"I wasn't sleeping. Couldn't sleep. Stay."
She brought her fist up to her mouth and just starred at him. Then slowly, nodded at him. She turned her back momentarily on him and lifted a chair up from against the wall and carried it to his bedside, before setting it noiselessly down again. She sat down eye-level to him and in awe. Yes, he probably was drugged, but she'd stay still.
Speak Severus, she tried to send him her thoughts telepathically. If you don't take control, I'll ask the questions, and they'll be ones you won't like.
"Good thing you were there," he began in a whisper. "I don't think I could have walked up here." He stared into the darkness.
She kept her voice down as best as she could, "Where exactly are you hurt?"
He closed his eyes. "Everywhere."
Georgie didn't respond. He kept on. "A few broken ribs, a broken wrist, a little internal bleeding, general pain...."
"I don't understand..." Georgie shook her head as if trying thrust her bad thoughts and feelings out of her mind and send them flying across the room.
"Voldemort was upset," He explained calmly as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Five of his people are in the Ministry and they all failed to get an essential bit of information he requested to have about a month ago. Since none of them got it, we all had to pay...."
"How?" She whispered, barely audible. She didn't know is she'd actually voiced it out-loud or not.
"You don't want to know." He starred off straight in front of him.
Georgie believed she already knew anyhow-it was something very bad. "Yes," She insisted slightly angrily. "I do."
"Incendigrito."
Her hand raised to slowly cover her mouth. Not a word passed between the two of them for a while. It wasn't an unforgivable; It should have been though. It was not like the Killing Curse or Cruciatus, but it was still a form of torture. It made the person feel like their blood was on fire beneath their skin. At least he wasn't in mortal danger.
She finally gathered her voice and wits about her, "B-but, you didn't do anything?" She stuttered. "You didn't do anything." She repeated it, sounding more disbelieving.
He rolled his eyes, not maliciously at her. "Do you think He cares about that?"
"But you don't work for the ministry, you weren't involved, it wasn't your fault..." She hissed.
He sighed at that, and reached out his hand and set it down lightly and comfortingly on top of her head.
"He does that to remind us who is the Master, and that failures will not be tolerated. It's not all that uncommon really...."
Georgie starred wide-eyed at him. How could he say that so casually?! It was torture for goodness sake! You don't get used to that. This was sick, and she felt hot and angry. She wanted to shake him and beat him until he understood how horrible this was. How awful, she couldn't imagine. She felt tears well up in her eyes, and she sucked on her lip, trying not to let them spill over. She sniffed. "I wish I could fucking kill him."
"So do I." He permitted, removing his hand. "But you couldn't do it, thank God. You are not a killer Georgie."
"Fuck you, Severus. I could kill Voldemort. I want to kill him." She whispered passionately, biting her lip harder. She didn't want him to see her cry, to see her weak. At least it was pitch black in here. It was probably irrational and cold, but she didn't care and so she clung to that.
"This war has been long and demanding. I've been fighting it for most of my life. I can hardly remember what it was like before..." He looked piercingly at her, his eyes were so black. "I want it to end. If I could, I would tomorrow. But at this point the killings and tortures would continue. Now is not the time. I wish it were...."
She nodded her sentiments, and her tears finally spilled over. Snape didn't appear to notice, thank goodness, she thought as she as inconspicuously as possible brought the back of her hands up to her betraying eyes. "I hate you." She spat at him.
Snape grinned widely into the darkness. "If it were only that easy in life," He murmured, but she didn't understand, and so let it drop.
Georgie scratched her arm and frowned. Snape, tried to change subjects, "So what trouble did you get up to tonight?" He prodded her.
"Nothing, wrote letters, did rounds, raided the kitchens, sang an opera, went fishing for lake trout." She tried to smile like she usually did, but it came out sort of half-assed.
"Ah, an opera. I'm sure that would be a horrific experience, so I'm quite glad that I missed it in its entirety." He smirked.
"Hey," she insisted, taking the bait unknowingly. "I wouldn't be that bad! Sure I'm not the best singer in the world, but I'm sure I'm not the worst either! Geesh, you're a butt. It was Turandot, and I was singing along with my Muggle player--you weren't there! How'd you know if I were good or not, I mean granted I'm not good-good, but still...." He shushed her when her voice seemed to be raising too high.
She grinned at him, when she realized how easily she could be maneuvered in a discourse--especially one where they'd argue. She shot him a look, and with a humph, leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.
He chuckled to himself silently at her expression. "You are irreplaceable as a friend--you are so easily swayed in conversation, easy to lead about in all things that are for the good of all, and helping whenever I show up bleeding to death."
"Ha. Ha." Georgie said bitterly, but with the corners of her mouth turned up slightly. But it was dark she figured he couldn't see that. "I'm not so easily lead about, like a stupid horse on a tether..." She griped.
"I never said you were stupid. I'm saying you usually have sense enough to be lead out of pointless conversations and situations. You are valuable that you listen and accept good advice and sensible suggestions when you hear them. Now shut up and accept the compliment." He growled.
She blinked for a minute in the dark, "Thank you."
He sat back and closed his eyes. "Now about this lake trout you fished for--I presume it's stinking carcass isn't anywhere in the dungeons?" She covered her mouth with her hand as she giggled and her eyes squinted up in mirth.
They chatted for awhile more about everything and anything. Georgie still suspected that he was under the influence of some drug or another, but she was okay with that. Thy just kept their voices down, and though she couldn't see her watch she surmised that dawn wasn't far off. But if it were to be another stormy day, light would be still a long ways off.
Georgie hadn't realized when she had fallen asleep that that was what she was indeed doing. Her head had been propped up her chin on her wrists on the edge of the bed for the latter half of the conversation. She had paused mid-sentence, yawned and shut her eyes and never finished what she was trying to say.
Snape looked down in surprise at the funny sight she'd just made, and smiled genuinely to himself in the dark. Such an odd girl. Probably very tired. She began to snore quietly. Yes, very tired. How amusing, Snape thought to himself. Girls don't usually fall asleep at your bedside, how out of the everyday.
He settled himself down on his pillows, taking cares not to disturb the snoring creature at his side nor his own aching body. Finally Severus Snape fell into a deep and drug-induced restful sleep.
PLEASE R/R--it makes me happy. Usually.