Chapter Four: Out of the Cauldron...

A velvet voice cut through the haze of sleep, and Emily moaned.

No, she told herself sternly, not just a velvety voice. It's Severus Snape's voice. She paused for a moment to consider the implications of being rescued by the only man she'd ever loved, the man who'd murdered her father at Voldemort's command. Angrily, she tamped down the budding frustration. She'd wanted so much to talk to him earlier, to gain some understanding, but she had sobbed for what seemed like an hour as he held her and whispered comfort into her hair. When the tears would come no more, she had collapsed, exhausted. Apparently, he had just let her sleep.

"Emily," he called again, softly, almost lovingly, the way she'd always wanted him to say her name. But Severus was no longer her Severus. He was a different man, and belonged to another, a dark master who did not share. She opened her eyes to an older, more powerful, much more attractive Severus Snape and groaned inwardly.

Out of the cauldron and into the fire, Emily. That was always your way.

"We have a great deal to accomplish today," Severus said in what was, for him, an excited tone. "Can you sit up?"

She complied with a monumental effort, and Severus scowled down at her.

"Are you in pain?"

She nodded, not wanting to irk him by speaking.

"Your muscles have deteriorated," he said, unwittingly assuming his classic lecturing voice, "but they'll rebuild rapidly with the potions I've given you. I'll bring an analgesic for the soreness after breakfast." He sat down delicately beside her. "Do you think you're ready for an actual meal today?"

Emily shrugged, looking up in wonder at her old friend. Gods, he was gorgeous! So different from the skinny, awkward kid she'd grown up with. As much as she'd loved him, she'd never actually been attracted to him, but that had most certainly changed. He, however, observed her as he would a simmering potion, with clinical curiosity, occasionally checking her pulse or lifting her eyelids for Merlin knew what reason, completely self-possessed and at ease.

"Thank you..." she rasped, hesitating, not knowing how to address him.

"Severus," he finished for her. "And, I told you not to speak." He could still do that single-arched eyebrow thing that used to make her shrink. Now, she found, it sent a shiver down her spine. "If you're going to insist on doing so, then you should take this first," he announced, selecting a small cup from the tray which had followed him in.

She eyed the brownish liquid with trepidation, then swallowed it with a single gulp. It was surprisingly good, tasted faintly of honey, and was warm and thick going down, coating her throat soothingly. She must've looked as surprised as she felt.

"Not as foul as the others?" Snape asked with a prim pursing of the lips.

She shook her head and said weakly, "No. It's good." She managed to catch his eye despite her nervousness. She could at least be polite while she found out what the hell was going on.

"I imagine that you have questions, Emily, but I need for you to take this restorative first, then we can have breakfast while it clears the cobwebs from your brain."

He passed the second cup from the tray, the same goblet he'd used for the other restorative, she noticed, offhand. Still the same orderly, habitual Severus. Some things never changed, even in... she lowered the cup. "How long have I been there?"

He never batted an eye. "Sixteen years this Yule."

Emily froze. She knew that time had passed, but... sixteen years? That couldn't be possible.

But, the deep lines in her old friend's face didn't lie, and as she eyed them carefully, she admitted that it had to be true. Sixteen years of her life gone, and she'd practically begged the courts to do it. For good reason, she reminded herself. You're a Death Eater and a murderer. You don't deserve to live. She stared disconsolately into the steaming goblet and gave a little sniffle.

"Finish that, Emily," came Snape's crisp order.

"Or you'll what?" she asked dispassionately. "Put me under the Imperius, again?"

He leveled a look at her then that reminded her why she'd come to dread him the last few years she'd known him. "I will do whatever I must to restore your physical and mental health, as I have been charged." He drew his wand casually and rested it on his knee. "But, I would prefer you drink it of your own volition. If you can't pull yourself together again, you'll go straight back to prison, and I will not allow that. If I must control you through this entire assignment, I will."

"We swore we'd never use that on each other," she said quietly, still staring into the cup.

"We promised many foolish things when we were children," Snape replied unrepentantly, "but we are children no more, Emily... and there's work to be done."

Oh, no. So, that was the pill in all this jam.

She drained the cup in one long swallow and placed it indelicately on the bedside table. Her eyes remained on his wand as her breath caught in her chest. She had to get this out in the open before he went any further.

"I'm not going back, Severus," she stated as firmly as she could, raising her gaze to his and forcing it to remain.

"You needn't," he replied. "I am attempting to arrange a full pardon for your services to..."

"Not to prison," she interrupted testily, "to him. I am never going back to him." Her eyes returned involuntarily to his wand. She'd witnessed some foul deeds at the tip of that wand, in his service. It was terrifying, the thought that it might be turned on her for her refusal, perhaps to force her to serve against her will. "I made that perfectly clear the last time he summoned me."

He scowled at her, clearly not understanding what she was saying, then slowly, comprehension dawned. But his scowl only deepened as he considered her words, and she braced herself for whatever was coming. Perhaps he'd grant her the death she so deserved.

"Why do you not wish to return?" he asked carefully.

"He ordered me to kill my own brother, Severus," she responded, amazed that he would even ask such a thing.

"And you did as you were commanded... but only after he had your father put to death," he returned smoothly, his face completely unreadable. "I've often wondered why."

She flinched at the flat statement of fact, spoken so casually.

"Why do you look so wounded?" he continued easily. "His wasn't the first life you'd taken. You'd always followed orders. This is no time for a sudden deluge of conscience."

She took a moment to steady her breath before responding. "It was a mistake, Severus. I'm not a Death Eater."

A single brow arched as he encircled her bony wrist with a long-fingered hand. He extended her arm slowly, baring her mark, a pointed question glittering in his eyes.

"I know," she whispered sadly.

"Then you know also that you are sworn to his service until you die," he snapped, the once-soft voice edged and lethal. "By what right would you refuse his commands?"

"I didn't know," she sobbed, burying her face in her hands. "I didn't know, Sev."

"Don't lie to me," he snapped. "You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into!" He glared for a moment, seeming to enjoy the sight of her discomfort. "And if I tell you that you will return to his service or you will die?" he seethed. "Which will you choose?"

She tried to control the sobs racking her body, tried to regain some semblance of discipline before answering, but the tears refused to abate even for a moment. It was through those tears that she answered quietly, forcing her eyes to meet his. "I chose death years ago, Severus. All you can do is finish what I started."

Severus narrowed his eyes dangerously, and she began to feel sick.. not from fear, she'd faced down her fears so many times that they no longer had any monumental effect. What sickened her was that Severus, the only man she'd ever loved, was so loyal to Voldemort that he'd kill his oldest friend on the Dark Lord's order. That was enough to twist her stomach into knots.

She tensed when he lifted his wand, then gawked in fascination as he slid it home within his sleeve. A quick, familiar smirk preceded his next words. "Your stubbornness is going to be the death of you, Emily... but not by my wand."

The now-empty hand that slid from his sleeve reached to caress her face, and she leaned into the touch out of sheer relief. There was no way to know what the hell he was playing at, but she'd take the mystery over the certainty of death at his hands any day.

"Why did you do it?" he asked softly.

She sighed heavily and looked down at the black mark on her ashen flesh. "So many reasons, Severus. My brother, my father... you."

"Don't you dare blame me for your stupidity," he bit out, practically leaping from the bed and running a slender hand through his hair. "No one asked you to take the Mark. You came to us. You damned yourself and your family."

He was pacing now, hands clenching and releasing in pent-up fury. "Do you have any idea what it did to me, watching you fall on your face before that creature, watching him burn his mark into your flesh?" He swooped down and slammed his hands on either side of her head, commanding her gaze, his face mere inches from hers, daring her to look away. "Watching him... watching you? You stupid, reckless, thoughtless child," he spat.

She was too taken aback now to cry, too shocked at his sudden venom to even back away when his forehead came to rest on hers, an old and familiar gesture. "I never knew that kind of pain existed," he ended quietly.

"I didn't know," she whispered again.

"You didn't care, Emily," he asserted soberly. "And, that is the fact that still keeps me awake at night."

He took a very, very deep breath as he sat back. "There's so much you need to understand." With a sharp snap of his fingers, a tiny, prim house elf appeared at his side, bowing low, his long nose almost touching the floor. "We will have our breakfast now, Liri." With a polite acquiescence, the house-elf disappeared and breakfast appeared in his place.

Severus separated the floating serving trays, sliding the one loaded with fresh fruit, scones, and tea in front of Emily and taking the one with sausage and eggs for himself. He didn't begin to eat, though, until his charge hesitantly picked up a grape and placed it in her mouth. Satisfied, he began slicing things into a reasonable size on his own plate.

"Do you remember your first kill?" he asked softly.

She closed her eyes and swallowed thickly, managing only a nod.

"I remember, as if it were yesterday, the look in your eyes as you spoke the words that stole the life from that man's body," he continued. "Truth be told, I didn't care so much about the wizard. I'd never been overly fond of him, but the joy you felt at taking the life of an innocent was..." he stopped and closed his eyes against the memory. "I was finished with it after that," he continued grimly. "Finished with the Dark Lord and finished with you. I went to Dumbledore that very night, put aside my pride, and threw myself on his mercy, begging him to help me escape."

She smiled softly as she bit into a strawberry. No matter how gloomy the conversation, the sensation of sinking her teeth into that sweet, ripe fruit after so many years was one of absolute bliss. It also gave her a moment to digest what Severus had said to her. After some consideration, she asked, "So, why didn't he?"

"The Order needed a spy more than I needed asylum, and I saw an opportunity to atone for some of the blood that I had shed." His eyes never left his plate as he spoke the next words. "I hoped that doing some modicum of good would drown out the screams in my head or wipe the vision of your face, lit by that violent green glow, from my mind."

She hesitated, picked up her glass, then sat it back down. "Did it?" she asked.

He rubbed a spot between his eyes for a moment as if fighting a headache. "Not for an instant," was his quiet reply.

Headmaster,

I have finished administering the restoratives to Miss Grey and have informed her of the condition of the castle. She has readily agreed to assist us. It is my intention to spend tomorrow gathering supplies, then escort her to Hogwarts on Friday morning. As per your instructions, we will not be leaving the castle until it is restored.

If you need to contact me, please send Fawkes. An owl would likely blunder into the runic fields and be destroyed.

Sincerely,

S. Snape

Emily stared at the pale, gaunt figure in the mirror and shook her head. This really was a hell of a turnabout. Severus, always the silent, brooding youth in her shadow, had grown tall and strong and beautiful; and she, immensely wealthy, beautiful, powerful, one of the rising stars of the Slytherin house, had lost everything. There was no money, no estate, not even the marriage to another noble that she had avoided like the plague. Truly, she was nothing, now.

Sev, however, had grown fearfully powerful, so much so that she could feel the formidable swell of magic within him when he touched her. It was intriguing and terrifying and unspeakably attractive. Unfortunately, that desire was not mutual. That was made perfectly clear by the way he looked at her, the way he pulled away from her touch.

And, no wonder, she thought, scowling at her reflection. I'm not even a whisper of the woman I was. How did I let this happen?

It was a silly question, really. She had allowed it to happen because she had been trying like hell to end this misery forever. She wanted death, had desired to slip into nothingness for as long as she could remember. Life before Voldemort, before Azkaban and the dementors, before blood and darkness took over seemed like a blissful dream of someone else's existence.

Severus appeared at the door then with a question on his face.

There was no need to ask him to verbalize it. He hated to talk when he was tense.

She gave the handle of the bag a quick tug and grimaced with the effort of supporting its meager weight. A last look around the room, a last, secret glance in the mirror, and she moved to meet him outside the anti-apparation wards.

He looked the same question at her again, and she smiled warmly.

"I'm fine, Sev." she assured him. "Let's go."

Elessar Evenstar: I'm glad you liked the tea. It was Plantation Mint with honey and a teaspoon of soymilk. It's so good to see that you've returned. I can't tell you how much reviews keep my spirits up. Emily is close to being her old self, though she still needs some filling out and cheering up. Maybe our beloved Sev can help. :-) Thanks for the positive feedback on the flashbacks. It's a relief to hear that they're as helpful in developing the characters as I'd hoped. Lucius will be making a few cameos, (much like the one in the first flashback) but the kinky sex will have to wait until I continue his story with Alex... or until I write this one-shot ficlet I have haunting my head. I may take a tiny sabbatical from this work to pen that one next week. It should only take a day or so, but it's a fun idea. Don't be a stranger!

Quietude: I've never viewed Dumbledore as Mr. Compassionate. He seems to have his favorites, whom he coddles, the public, whom he generally favors, and the Slytherins, to whom he is really unfair. Unless, of course, you consider Severus who, it has been speculated, came to him for asylum, and he turned him into a spy, essentially forcing him to continue a life of bad deeds at great personal risk. That was much worse than just unfair. Anywho, I shouldn't even get started rambling on the subject of Dumbledore. I'm not a big fan. I mean, if one only considers his lack of judgment... okay, okay. I'll stop. No sparkly-eyed, sweet Dumbledore in my fics. I can't help but write him as I read him, as a general in a war, manipulating his troops as he must for a certain victory. Sorry. Still friends? Here. Have some tea and a muffin. You'll feel better. There will be more of Dumbledore in this fic than the last, and I hesitate to say much more lest I spoil the plot, but I don't think you'll stay pissed with him. He is being an ass , but there's a reason for that. Thanks for the compliment about Severus. It's soooo difficult to keep him in character without loosing his sense of compassion for his friend.

Lady D3ath: Hi! Good to have you. Pull up a chair. Have some tea and a coffin cake (my Halloween special, just right for a Lady o' Death). I update pretty often because of the whole life thing: essentially, I don't have one. I guess that works out well for my beloved readers. Thanks for adding my story to your favorites. It's not only flattering, but it's a foreshadowing of future company in my little campfire circle... I hope. There's more than enough room, and you're welcome.

Intel Ewok: Hi! It's so good to see you again! I was hoping you'd come aboard. Thanks for digging my Severus. Writing from his point of view is proving to be a challenge, but it's loads of fun. You're one of the few to mention Emily. It's such a relief that you find her interesting. It's difficult to make her that way when she's practically comatose, but she'll perk up now that she's coherent again. Glad that you enjoyed the Albus-Severus interaction. More of that on the way. Thanks for joining in, Intel. It would be lonely without you. Hope to see you next chapter!

aurora: Hi! Good to have you. Have a seat. Have a cuppa. Have a snack. Hear a story. Thanks for chiming in about the other two stories. It's good to know that you enjoyed them. Hearing that makes the writing worth every bit of effort. I hope that this story lives up to your hopes for it. As for an edition to the Alex stories, that's going to have to be a resounding affirmative. Just about everyone has requested that the tales continue, so I've begun an outline for the next adventure. As soon as this one ends, the other will begin. And if you're not there I'll be very sad, so hang on with me. Okay?