Disclaimer- I own nothing but the plot. I don't own the Silmarillion either.

Monuments and Melodies

Chapter Two- Shallow

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The room was shrouded in darkness, the only relief, a small, plain candle dripping wax over the end table. The bed beside it was piled high with blankets and sheets of every sort. You could just make out the lone figure lying beneath them, unmoving. Severus stood by the door, his gaze focused on the younger girl sleeping before him.

"Will she be alright, Poppy?" he asked. The other woman beside him shifted uneasily.

"I really don't know," she said, "She's been through a great deal, more than most are asked of…your potion seems to be working," she added as an afterthought.

"How well I do not know,"

"Anyone would be lucky to have a potion made by you, Severus," Poppy said, giving him a maternal look. Severus shook his head.

"She's in rough condition,"

"No more than you are and have been,"

"I'm not so sure about that…" he murmured. Though his prominent features revealed nothing, his eyes, like black ink, reflected some unrecognizable emotion- worry?

"I should go," Poppy looked to the door uncomfortably, "I need to get back to Mungo's. They're-"

"Yes, yes, of course," Severus interrupted, "I'm sorry to have troubled you with coming here. I know how much work you have now."

"Oh, Severus, really! It was no problem. I'm glad to be here. Ginny was one of my favorite students- a friend even… I really don't want to leave. It's just-"

"I know, Mungo's is busy-" he cut in.

"You have no idea. Severus, it's awful. It really is. I've never seen anything like it. Everyday more and more people walk in, completely devastated- broken bones, burnt flesh, infected wounds- and you can just see it in their eyes…"

"What?"

"What do you mean 'What'?"

"What can you see?"

"Oh…" she trailed off distantly, "The hopelessness. You see the hopelessness, Severus," she said wearily, turning her chin up to him so that the light caught her face. Severus was almost surprised at what he saw. No longer was Poppy that same motherly figure who had always accepted him, who had taken care of him when he was hurt, who had healed him after a risky meeting, whose wrinkles were from laughing and smiles. Seeing her now after all she had been through- the war, the suffering, the pain, he could see how those sharp lines etched in her skin were not from happiness, but from sorrow. He had always known how much older she was than he, but suddenly it was all the more apparent. The bags under her eyes were darker, the color of her skin paler, and her face shallower. She was not the chipper school nurse who would fuss over her patients like an overprotective mother. Now she was different- harder, not moved, not upset so simply. She had to be the unfazed healer- a new burden. Then again, that was what war did. It burdened.

"Thank you, Poppy," he said truly grateful.

"It was no problem, really," she assured him, "If you need anything, please, just owl me. I'll be glad to help."

"I can manage on my own."

"You always say that," Poppy sighed, "I was surprised you even asked me over here,"

"I ask for help only when it is needed. Miss Weasley's injuries are beyond my expertise and somewhat awkward for me to deal with," he said, almost defensively, "I know my own limitations." Poppy watched him, her eyes narrowed in curiousity.

"Do you, Severus? Do you really know when to stop, when to give up?" she questioned softly.

He did not answer. He looked away, his gaze once again resting on the small girl in bed.

"I didn't think so…" Poppy whispered, putting a withered hand on his shoulder, "I want you to take care of that knock on your head," she continued, trying almost too hard to lighten the mood, "I think there's some healing slave Charlie sometimes uses for bites and such in the downstairs bathroom. A bit on it twice a day and you should be ship shape in no time."

"Hmm…" Severus hummed absently.

"Severus, are you going to be all right?"

"What- oh, of course- just a wound to my head. It's not like anything I haven't dealt with before."

"That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Yes, I know what you mean," he sighed, "I'll be fine. It's over now."

"It's not over, Severus. You and I both know that."

"Then it can only get easier."

"We can hope." She said wearily, picking up her cloak from the chair by the door and throwing it over her shoulder, "I best be off."

"Yes, and thank you again, Poppy,"

"Anytime… and take care of yourself, Severus and her too. I don't want to find anything's happened to her next time I come around."

"Don't worry, Poppy,"

"Oh, believe me, I don't worry enough!" she exclaimed, pulling the door open, "I think Albus said something about coming down here sometime this week and I expect Harry will be around."

"Of course, he'll want to see Remus,"

"I'm not so sure that's the half of it. There was always that tension between him and Ginny her. I predict he'll come to check up on her." Poppy said.

"I thought Miss Weasley was engaged to Longbottom," he said.

"Yes… well, Neville's… he's gone now, isn't he?" she croaked, looking away, "He was going to make such a good healer too…" she shook her head, gulping, "Ginny'll be devastated. She made him so happy, you know? He was always such a sad little boy, due to his parents and all… it was like she made it all better. It's like that with Ginny. She has this infectious jovial quality that spreads like the plague… I hope it's still there when she wakes up."

Poppy sniffed, and wiped her eyes politely as Severus stood there, quite awkwardly. He did not know what to say. He would never grow accustomed to such situations.

"I'm sorry. Look at me getting all teary on you." She said, forcing a smile.

"Poppy-" he said.

"I'll just be on my way. You be good while I'm gone." She joked lamely.

"Good-bye, Poppy,"

"Goodbye, Severus," she said slowly, casting another concerned look as she walked through the door. Severus could hear her brisk steps down the creaking staircase, as her feet reached the foyer, and even as her fingers twisted the door knob open. And she was gone.

Severus exhaled, not noticing the breath he had been holding in his breath. He stood silently for a moment, listening to all the sounds his ears could catch- water running through the pipes, wind rustling outside the window, the wax of the candle oozing to the ground, and the tumble of pots and pans in the kitchen below that was so obviously Remus.

He looked over to Ginny again; her hair spilling across the pillows, frayed at the ends liked a wilted flower, and her face ashen, partly because of the poor lighting, partly because of the sad shape she was in. Her eyes were hollowed out keeping holes in a knotted tree and a thin scar like a tear ran down her cheek

Grabbing the rickety chair beside the door, he brought it down before the bed and sat. He would stay up with her. He knew that it was certainly an awkward situation; he had once been her teacher, but he remembered the many he times he had landed himself over the years. And every time he woke, there was always that quiet want for company, even if they did nothing but sit there. He supposed she would not want to be alone, and he felt as if it was his duty to watch her, his duty to Molly and to Arthur at least.

Under the end table beside him, a few books were stacked on a wooden plank between the legs. He slowly sifted through them, taking the time to look at each cover and pages. They were mostly muggle books, even a few he recognized. Finally, he found something that appealed to his momentary interests.

Wiping off the dust that still remained on the front cover; he flipped it open, bringing it closer to the candle light so he could see. He cleared his throat, and slowly began to read in his deep, professional voice,

"Ainulindale- The Music of the Ainur- There was Eru, the One, who in Arda is called Iluvatar; and he made the first of the Ainur, the Holy Ones, that were the offspring of his thought, and they were with him before aught else was made…"

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