Potions: What would a Girl Do without It?
By Slave4Severus
Disclaimer: I still do not own any of J.K.R. characters. Even though I wish I did.
"…Professor Snape…"
"..look…with the professor…"
"..what's that…."
"I think…blood!"
"So much blood!"
He could hear the shocked gasps of the students as he hurried up the moving staircases en route to the hospital wing. Why on earth he had to pass every bloody student was still a mystery to him. It seemed that all three houses, other than Slytherin, went to breakfast at the same time every morning, forcing him to dodge his pupils on the stairs. He had nearly forgotten that the Hufflepuff common room lay only a few feet from the entrance of the infirmary, but was sorely reminded as he rounded a corner and passed the painting of a Scotsman with his loyal dog; which promptly opened and expelled at least ten sodding students that were coming straight for him and his …charge. Before any of the imbeciles could create a scene he chose his coldest voice and darkest sneer. "Watch it," he hissed menacingly as he strode past, leaving the shocked students in his wake. Even though he was used to creating a certain amount of unease, he knew that the girl floating behind him was the reason for most of the alarmed mutterings. He could not get to the infirmary fast enough. With that in mind he turned his head to the crush of students.
"Miss Bones, would you please inform Madam Pomfrey of our arrival." He watched the seventh year Hufflepuff run ahead of him at top speed, forgetting to utter her usual 'Yes, Professor Snape,' he thought darkly. Without slowing his stride he called over his shoulder. "Mr. Cauldwell, please notify Mr. Filch about his messy floors." The fourth year student called a breathless, "yes, Professor Snape" before sprinting the opposite direction, trying not to slip on the small puddles of blood as he went.
Severus rounded the last corner before the white doors of the hospital wing came into view, his robes whipping about him adding to his sinister look. The double doors opened before he could reach them revealing a panting Miss Bones and a worried looking Madam as he strode past them levitating his load to the nearest hospital bed.
"Severus, place her here, please." Madam Pomfrey hurried past him and further down the ward, gesturing towards a bed closest to the medicinal potion cabinet, and he silently complied. With a swish of his wand he levitated the girl onto the crisply starched white sheets, as the nurse pulled the privacy curtains around the bed and promptly turned to face her new charge with her wand at the ready.
Severus stood at the foot of the bed eyeing the intruder with a cold and calculating stare. There really was a copious amount of blood covering the girl's, or young woman's, face and clothed body. He guessed her age no more than twenty, but could not be certain with the heavy bruising her face had sustained. As with most of her other features, her hair was an unidentifiable color, but he suspected it must be a shade of brown. He was sure she must have been sent by the Dark Lord, but the reason still eluded him. She could be a test, sent by Voldemort, to see if he really had NOT made the antidote to the poison. Severus disregarded that thought just as fast, however. Voldemort was not the flashy sort, and would not have sent the girl careening into Hogwarts' Great Hall if he had. Still, something did not sit right with him, and it was not the piece of toast from this morning.
Madam Pomfrey only took thirty seconds to finish her preliminary examination and gasped in shocked. In all of her years of nursing she had never seen so many extensive injuries on a patient who was still alive. 'Well, barely alive,' she quipped to herself. Without losing another second she muttered a few incantations and placed the girl into a form of stasis, preventing her from dieing before she could administer the required potions to stabilize her. With a quick breath she turned and looked at the Potions Master who still stood at the foot of the bed with an unreadable expression.
"Severus, this child has been hit with a fair amount of curses; the blood boiling curse being one of them." She put great emphasis on the last sentence, knowing that the Professor was the only one who could make the complex potion, if he did not already have the antidote in his private stores.
"That is not all." She placed her hand on the side of the girl's head and rolled it over to the right, exposing the left side of her neck.
Severus could not help but gasp at the faint outline of a very familiar curse scar, and involuntarily stepped toward the side of the bed for a closer inspection. There it was, much fainter than the one Harry Potter had on his forehead, but never the less it was a small lightning bolt scar two inches below her left ear. His eyes narrowed in suspicion and his lips tightened with resolve. This person was not a benign girl, but someone sent here with a purpose. What that purpose was, however, had to be extracted from her. A malicious smile curved his lips. He would get it out of her if it was the last thing he would do.
Madam Pomfrey watched the Professor assess the girls scar and then straighten his spine rigidly. She did not know what was going on in this insufferable man's mind, but it was probably something she would not approve of. With that in mind she transfigured the medical report onto a piece of parchment and began to read off all the different potions she would require.
His eyes never left the faintly breathing body as he mentally registered all the potions Poppy would need to cure her. 'Blood Replenishing Draught, well with all the blood the chit has lost I will probably have to brew a whole new batch…Wound Cleaning Potion, I have a couple of extra vials of that in the store room…Burn-Healing Paste? I just gave her five jars of the stuff!...Blood-Cooling Potion, there is one vial left, how lucky,' he sneered at the last request, still staring at the girl as Poppy put away the parchment and began to undress her charge.
Without looking over her shoulder Poppy's stern voice pulled Severus out of his thoughts. "Today would be nice, Severus."
"Madam Pomfrey, I do not believe that this intruder should be left alone…"
"Severus, this my domain and you would do best to listen to me here. I will only say this once, so pay close attention. As long as this child is in my care I will not have an over-grown keeper watch my and her every move, is that perfectly understood. Furthermore, I would like to preserve some of the girl's modesty, if you do not mind." She emphasized her little speech by turning back and unclasping the few buttons left on the front of the tattered robes, revealing the outline of a lacy bra.
Severus turned abruptly, in anger and embarrassment. With a scowl that could kill he strode down the isle toward the infirmary doors, wishing he would encounter a few students to deduct points from. Oh, yes, he was in a very bad mood.
Poppy heard his heavy footfalls leave the infirmary and sighed in relief. Now that she gave him a task to focus on she could put all of her energies toward cleaning this child up. She quickly finished undressing the limp body, noting every cut and bruise and cataloging them with her wand before uttering a cleansing spell, closely followed by a warming spell. Covering the clammy body up with three heavy blankets, the nurse turned and walked to the potion cabinet to retrieve the last three bottles of Blood-Replenishing Draught and the last jar of Burn-Healing Paste, placing them both on the small night stand flanking the right side of the bed. Taking out her wand, she began healing the girl's broken bones, bruising, and curse wounds returning her outer body to a state of normalcy. After about ten minutes of extracting glass shards and rubbing the paste on her hex burns, the doors of the infirmary opened themselves once more.
Returning the blankets over her charges body, Madam Pomfrey turned around the privacy screen to watch Professor Snape approach once more, steeling herself for another bout of verbal sparring.
Severus returned to the infirmary with five vials of requested potion firmly in his grasp, his face a cool facade of indifference. When he reached the much shorter nurse he leaned down bringing his face close to hers, barely speaking above a whisper.
"Now, you listen to me Madam. You will never speak to me that way again, is that perfectly understood? I have 'disciplined' others who have dared less. Furthermore, if I suspect that someone or something is a threat to this school I will make sure that the threat is contained. Do we understand each other?" He arched one of his black brows in challenge, obsidian eyes flashing coldly.
"Professor Snape, you try a Saint's patience!" With a sigh Madam Pomfrey plucked the bottles from his grasp.
"Classes start in a few minutes. Alert me immediately if the chit comes around," he said coldly before once again gliding out of the infirmary.
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He was slowly surfacing from a swirling pool of warm darkness. In the distance he could make out a few glittering sparks of light and floated towards them. He knew what would happen next, having been here before. The glittering light became brighter and brighter until finally his heavy eyelids opened to greet another day.
Merlin, his head hurt!
He closed his eyes again as a soft groan passed his chapped lips. He tried to lie as still as possible, willing the agonizing sensation to dissipate with every breath he took. As he lay there the memories of the previous night came back to him. He had another one of those pain inducing, scar throbbing nightmares, courtesy à la Voldemort. Images were flying through his head that did not make any sense to him. There was a huge mansion that lay dark and foreboding before him; another of a girl, about his age, sitting at a piano; the same girl, clinging to someone's black cloak. He tried to block out the images, but each time more would surface. A Death Eater holding the girl while ripping at the front of her robes; a man bruised and bloodied being killed by a Death Eater.
Harry opened his eyes again and shook his aching head to rid himself of the memories. Voldemort had been more than furious last night for whatever reason. Harry knew that something did not go as planned and that more than one person would suffer for it. He wondered if Professor Snape had been one of those Death Eaters he had seen?
"…if the chit comes around."
'Speak of the devil,' Harry thought as his eyes tried to focus on his exiting Potions professor without the use of his glasses. Obviously not seeing very much, Harry felt for his glasses on the little nightstand next to his bed and put them on. As the world came into focus he watched his professor stride out of the infirmary with his signature billowing robes. With a small shrug, Harry slowly got out of bed and changed into some clothes that had been left for him. While he was fastening his belt he could hear Madam Pomfrey bustling about in the infirmary, and he hoped that he would pass the morning 'examination' so he could go up to Gryffindor tower for a shower and his books. He sighed heavily and running his hand through his messy hair, he walked around his privacy screen to face the school nurse.
After a moment of scanning the ward he found her attending to a patient at the very end. Harry smirked slightly and shook his head as he walked toward her. 'She's probably patching up Neville again,' he thought with a small grin. The poor bloke seemed to be very accident prone. Without another thought he rounded the corner of the privacy screen and stood rooted to the floor. There, on the bed was the girl of his dreams.
Well, the girl of his nightmares, really.
"Mr. Potter, there is a reason why I put up these screens!" she said in a clipped tone, while pouring the purple Wound-Cleaning potion on the poor girls head. Harry winced at the thought of the stinging solution, reminding him of his own pain.
"I apologize, Madam Pomfrey, but I wanted to check in with you before I left for my morning classes." His eyes roamed over the girl in the bed. She looked deathly pale and her body was beginning to shiver even though she was covered with a few blankets.
"Yes, Mr. Potter you may go, now if you do not mind I have to see to this patient." The patient in question chose that moment to violently convulse on her bed. Madam Pomfrey immediately sat beside her and placed her hands on the girl's upper arms, holding her firmly in place.
"Mr. Potter, would you mind helping me hold her down?" The nurse ground out through clenched teeth. Harry did not waste any time and came around the other side of the bed, putting his hands right above Madam Pomfrey's and applying pressure to the girl's upper body.
"Will you be able to hold her on your own? I need to get another potion to stop the spasms."
Harry nodded as he concentrated on keeping the girl on the bed instead of on the floor, flopping like a fish. His forehead began to break out in sweat by the strain as he looked down at the face two feet away. Her eyes were closed and her lips were a chapped raspberry color, her breath was coming out in short gasps, while her skin rivaled the color of Professor Snape's. His eyes roamed a little lower and stopped at the side of her neck, where a small scar, similar to his own stood crimson against its alabaster canvas.
Harry was shocked, to say the least when he felt that familiar prickle on his forehead. As she was writhing beneath his grasp, Harry's breath became more labored until he too was panting with pain, closing his eyes and steeling himself against it. A fresh wave of images started flooding his mind and Harry could do nothing to stop the sensory overload. He could see Lucius Malfoy looking down on him smirking viciously; in another he was racing through a forest dodging trees; he could see himself sending numerous hexes at various Death Eaters; he was flying through a thick, icy fog without any visibility; and finally in rapid succession he saw and felt the pain of every single hex that this girl had endured, ending with a blinding hit to the back of her head. He forcefully opened his eyes, hardly noticing Madam Pomfrey pouring a coffee colored liquid down the girl's throat, or her spasms finally receding to small tremors. All he could do was stare at the person who was creating the stabbing pain in his head, the rushing sound in his ears, and the need to hold on to her for dear life.
He finally broke contact when Madam Pomfrey forcefully pried his hands from the girl's arms. Harry stumbled backward a few steps, while trying to control his ragged breathing.
'What had just happened here?' he thought, as he rubbed his scar and forced himself to look at the nurse.
Madam Pomfrey was also shaken at what she had seen and hastily retrieved her wand to give Harry a quick once over. Without a word she walked to her potion cabinet and retrieved two vials from her stores, uncorking them as she returned to his side.
"This one is a simple headache cure." She watched him gulp down the contents. "The second is a Pepper-up Potion." He took that one too without a word and let the liquids do their magic while they swirled through his veins and alleviated most of his agony.
"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey." He sighed with relief, before adding, "What happened?"
"That is a very good question Mr. Potter, which I do not have the answer to. I will discuss what I have seen with Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape as soon as possible," she informed him, returning to her patient's bedside.
Harry was already in deep thought, processing the new images churning in his mind. He really needed to talk to Ron and Hermione about this! He glanced back at the girl, now lying peacefully once again on her cot.
'Who are you?' He thought, while Madam Pomfrey, for the first time ever tried to usher him OUT of the infirmary.
"If you have any more adverse reactions do not hesitate to see me, Mr. Potter."
He only nodded and began walking toward the double doors. 'I have got to talk to Ron and Hermione,' with that in mind he set out for Gryffindor tower.
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Before the hour struck twelve the whole school knew about the 'girl-crasher.' Hermione rolled her eyes in disgust as she passed Draco Malfoy for the second time that morning showing off some bogus scars to the fifth and sixth year Slytherin girls.
"You see this scar? That was from a rogue piece of glass that sliced right through to the bone. I have about three more of those on my person, but unfortunately I can't show you those right now…"
Hermione was disgusted as she watched Draco wiggle his eye brows suggestively and the girls beginning to fawn all over him. 'Honestly, even Slytherin's should have more taste!' She passed the scene as quickly as she could and rounded the corner, heading toward a double period of Transfiguration, when she saw Seamus and Dean reenact Professor Shape's performance this morning. Or at least she assumed that's what was going on because Seamus' face was contorted in a bad imitation of the professor's standard sneer, while he waved his wand around in big, arching circles reminiscent of Snape's dueling experience with Lockhart before finally 'striking' Dean with the hex.
Dean followed up with some dramatics of his own, stumbling back a few paces and screeching in a high pitched voice, "You shot me! You stupid git!" before promptly 'dying' in front of the majority of the fourth and fifth year Gryffindor boys. Hermione strode past the scene and gave the boys her fiercest glare, scattering the younger ones in an instant from the Head Girl's wrath. Seamus and Dean just shrugged and gave her a lopsided grin which she studiously ignored.
She finally reached the classroom with fifteen minutes to spare and settled herself in her usual spot two rows from the front. She would have sat in the first row, but Ron had complained that he did not want to 'smell what McGonagall had for breakfast' as he so eloquently put it. She rummaged through her overflowing rucksack and pulled out her textbook, Guide to Advanced Transfiguration, for a quick review of the chapters they would be covering in class. Within moments she was lost within its pages.
In order for an inanimate object to receive the characteristics of a living organism the following wrist movement needs to be executed:
Keep the your casting arm at a "Did you see her face?" right angle while the wrist is loose and springy "What a hideous nose she had!" making sure that the wand flows in a counterclockwise figure eight position "If I looked that horrible I would have WILLINGLY thrown myself through the window."
Hermione sighed loudly as the gossip-mongrels of Hogwarts, Padma, Pavarti, and Lavender sat a few seats behind her. She closed her book with more force than necessary and began massaging her aching temples. She wished everyone would just stop talking about this morning and move on with their lives. Thankfully, Ron and Harry entered the class, with two minutes to spare, and took their seats close to hers. While they both retrieved their books, Hermione cast an inquisitive look at Harry. He seemed paler than usual, with dark rings under his eyes, and she could have sworn she saw his hand shaking while retrieving his quill. She absolutely hated it when he had a nightmare; he was not the only one that suffered.
"Harry, are you alright?" She finally voiced her concern. Harry looked up at her as if he had been deep in thought and nodded. Before he could say any more the door opened and Professor McGonagall strode into the room.
"We need to talk at lunch," he whispered hastily, as they turned their books to page 268.
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Two hours later everyone clamored out of the stuffy classroom and headed down to the Great Hall, which had been cleaned of glass and debris. Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat a few feet away from everyone on the very end of the long benches, leaning over their plates in deep conversation. Harry told them everything that he had dreamed the night before, awakening in the hospital wing, and his encounter with the girl baring his scar. Between mouthfuls Ron told his version of the breaking of the wards and the girl crashing through the window, shattering a perfectly good Nimbus. He emphasized on her hitting the wall by taking a forkful of mashed potatoes and catapulting it over the table, where it hit the floor with a soft splat. Hermione was oddly quiet during their conversation and finally rolled her eyes at Ron's interpretation of 'the crash'.
"Well, after Care of Magical Creatures I will go to the library and look up curses and curse scars in the restricted section," she said thoughtfully. As Head Girl she was allowed access to virtually all sources of information the castle had to offer and was determined to make full use of them all. "Maybe that should tell us something about the visions you were having while holding her down."
Harry nodded in agreement. "Ron and I will go talk to Professor Krieger, perhaps he could tell us something helpful." Their new DADA professor was an enthusiastic version of Remus Lupin, who had come highly recommended by the former professor.
Harry's shaky hand reached for his glass of pumpkin juice and he downed its contents in four long swills before refilling his glass; he had been parched all morning. Before he could fill his glass a third time, however, Hermione urged them to finish up and follow her to class. With a frustrated sigh he got up from the table and stretched his aching muscles. God, he felt as if he had been hit with a ton of bricks!
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He must be taking this whole situation fairly well, he thought to himself after tallying up the lost house points of his three rival houses. 'Only 300,' he smirked to himself, jarring the last of the Burn-Relief paste that he had scraped from the bottom of his small pewter cauldron. He had not received more requests for potions from Poppy since this morning and was anxious to get back to the hospital wing to begin the interrogating the girl. A small bottle of Veritaserum was already waiting in his waistcoat pocket, as he shrank the paste and placed it alongside the vial. With purposeful strides he exited his classroom and emerged from the dungeons, scattering any pupils who had the misfortune of stepping in his path.
Within minutes he rounded the last corner to the infirmary and involuntarily slowed his stride in surprise. In front of the white double doors were at least ten students from various houses waiting to be admitted by a highly agitated Madam Pomfrey. Severus put his scowl in place and glared poignantly, as the 'sea' of students parted to admit him into the infirmary.
"Mr. Creevy, I have been at Hogwarts long enough to spot Yellow-dotted Mountain Fever, and you do not have it. I would suggest you go back to your dormitory and take a shower to wash this mess from your skin. And Mr. Zabinni, you may go to the dungeon as well, that little scratch of yours is not even big enough to warrant a healing spell." Madam Pomfrey looked sternly at the rest of the students there before her eyes met the obsidian gaze of the Potions Professor. Before he reached her he spun around and fixed his pupils with a penetrating stare. His voice was barely above a whisper, but nobody had to strain to hear him.
"Now, the only way for any of you to get through these doors is if you have been stranded at Death's door. As these are not the dungeons I doubt that has happened." A cold smirk graced his thin lips. "If any of you, or your little friends, dare to interrupt Madam Pomfrey with paltry aches or pains, more serious measures will be taken." He looked at the pale faces as he lifted a brow in sardonic emphasis. "Well then, why are you all still standing here?"
He watched in veiled amusement how the 'lame' became a flurry of activity trying to get away as fast as they could. Once the hallway was deserted again he turned around and faced the nurse, who stared at him in awe and gratitude. He ignored her and stepped through the double doors, Madam Pomfrey following him on his heels.
As they both entered the hearth flared up with green flames and Professor McGonagall stepped out, striding purposely toward the two.
"Has there been any change, Poppy?" She looked questioningly at the nurse before acknowledging Professor Snape with a short nod.
"The child has been stabilized." Madam Pomfrey stopped and looked gravely over her shoulder at the privacy screen shielding the girl from view, "but she has been through more than any of us could imagine." With a flick of her wrist she produced the parchment with her patient's medical summary and handed it to Professor McGonagall, who in turn gasped in shock before she had read a third of its contents.
As the two witches softly discussed the girl's ailments, Professor Snape silently made his way toward her hospital bed. With a grim expression he walked around the privacy screen and stared at the bed's occupant. She was covered with a minimum of three blankets that had been tightly charmed in place under her shoulders down, making any type of movement on her part virtually impossible. Her head was resting on a big, white, fluffy pillow as his eyes roamed over her features with calculating scrutiny, really seeing her for the first time. Her face really had been swollen quite a bit he thought as he took note of the small chin, full lips, and high cheek bones framed by a heart-shaped face. There was a small spattering of freckles on her nose, but those were the only flaws that marred her delicate skin. A few tresses of her auburn hair clung wetly to her flushed face and neck, mingling with the small beads of sweat that covered her skin. Her breathing was coming in short little pants from barely parted lips.
Severus frowned as he turned and walked toward the Medicinal Potion Cabinet to retrieve a fever reducing potion from its confines. He was disgusted with the nurse for not having caught the fever before now, and turned once again to the girl upon retrieving the fuchsia vial. Before he could even uncork the bloody thing he was attached by the nurse herself, who seemed to have more characteristics of a banshee than a caretaker.
"Professor Snape, what in Merlin's name do you think you are doing?" Madam Pomfrey stood before him, hands on her hips, and very furious.
The professor arched his brow and looked at her. "It would seem obvious, would it not?"
Professor McGonagall put a hand on the seething nurse's shoulder to calm her down a bit before giving the Potions Master a pointed look.
"Poppy, I think Severus only wanted to help." She said calmly, still looking at him.
"Well," the nurse huffed in outrage, "if he would have even glanced at the report I have filled out he would have known that the child can NOT have any more potions. Her body has been treated with too many already; others could give her adverse reactions." She crossed her arms before her heaving bosom and gave him an icy stare.
"Then what, pray tell, do you suggest, Madam." His voice was low and menacing as he looked down his considerable nose at the offending woman.
Madam Pomfrey turned and walked to a vacant bed close by and transfigured it into a big, white, porcelain bath tub. A couple more muttered words and it was filled half-way with water. She turned and looked at the confused professors.
"We will have to lower her temperature the old fashioned way."
"Do quit speaking in riddles woman! What is the old fashioned way?" Severus was beginning to loose his patience.
Madam Pomfrey did not answer him, but summoned a house elf to fetch her some ice from the kitchens.
"Poppy, you do not mean to place the girl in the bathtub, do you?" Professor McGonagall seemed a bit shocked herself at that barbaric notion.
"Yes, Minerva, there is no other way." She sighed heavily and floated the ice cubes into the tub upon the elf's return.
"Well, then I shall levitate her into the water." Professor McGonagall was walking to the side of the girl's bed with purpose.
"No! We can not risk it. She has been hit with too many curses that I am afraid that any more spells placed upon her could deplete her of the little magic she has left in her. We have to do this manually." Both women stared at each other for a few seconds before they both turned their eyes upon Severus.
He groaned silently. 'Damn it all to hell!"
His spine straightened and his balled fists met his hips, as he leaned over Madame Pomfrey dangerously. "I refuse." His voice rumbled menacingly through his chest as the answer escaped his clenched teeth.
The nurse blinked once…then twice. "Severus, you are not scared of a little water, are you?"
The infuriating woman actually had the gall to call him a coward! "No, I am not you silly woman! I did not come here however to play nursemaid to the chit. I did come here however for a necessary interrogation to find out who sent her," he hissed with a look of pure venom.
Madam Pomfrey had heard enough of the insufferable professor and stepped closer to his person, looking him straight in the eyes. "There will be no interrogation any time soon Professor Snape. This girl is in need of our help and who do you think you are to refuse her! Will it not go through your thick skull that there will not BE an interrogation if we do not lower her fever? For Merlin's sake, her organs and cooking away as we speak!" Her nose was precariously close to his sternum as she looked up into his expressionless face.
"Severus, please. She is too heavy for either of us to carry to the tub." Professor McGonagall tried to placate him with her stern voice.
Before either woman could appeal to his lacking sense of decency he began unbuttoning the outer layer of his flowing robes. Madam Pomfrey seeing that she had won the upper hand finally removed herself from his personal space and walked over to the bed of the fevered girl. He quickly removed a few layers of garments until he was clad only in his black trousers and white linen shirt, rolling up the sleeves half way up his forearm. Without further ado he marched up to the side of the bed and pushed the nurse out of the way, flinging the bed covers aside and scooping the girl, clad only in a white infirmary nightgown, up into his arms. Her head lolled to the side and rested right below the hollow of his throat and he could feel the intense heat radiating from her body. He turned and marched over to the tub looking at the small ice cubes glistening in the no doubt frigid water.
"Now Severus, you need to place her in gently, we do not want her heart to stop beating from the shock." Madam Pomfrey instructed from behind him. He rolled his eyes. Did she think he was just going to drop the girl into the water?
"And Severus, be prepared for her to struggle a little." With the nurse's last remark Severus turned to pin her with a frosty glare, before focusing all of his attention to the task at hand. He shifted the dead weight in his arms a little before he kneeled down beside the claw footed bathtub. She did not weigh that much, but lowering her into the water gently, however, would not be the easiest task he had ever managed. He leaned over the bathtub and gritted his teeth in anticipation of her hitting the icy water, bum first.
There was no reaction from the girl until her body was about waist deep in the icy liquid. He could hear a soft moan in his left ear as he watched her feet make contact with the water and promptly turned to face her. Her head was nestled in the crook of his arm and he watched in morbid fascination as her eyes fluttered opened and pierced him with a heavy lidded, glassy gaze. Her breathing was labored as she stared at him but not really seeing who was before her. He held her there, suspended in the icy grip of the bath water before lowering her further down. As the water hit her abdomen and her chest she began to struggle in earnest thrashing harshly covering her entire body, and his for that matter, in the cold liquid.
Her eyes were shut again and she tried to fight his hands with everything she had to give, moaning and whimpering in pain. Her sodden tresses clung to her face and shoulders washing off any traces of sweat and replacing them with icy droplets. He was astounded by the fire this girl seemed to possess and the strength in her hands that had turned into little claws of desperation, ripping at his wet shirt. He could hardly feel the cold penetrating his skin when he caught both of her hands on his chest confining them in one of his and lowering them into the water. Her eyes flew open and she inhaled noisily at her body's discomfort of being totally submerged in the bathtub. Her eyes found his and he thought he saw a spark of recognition, but before he could think twice about it she spoke her first words in a barely audible whisper. His brows furrowed when he realized what she had said exactly before the black oblivion claimed her once more.
"Is this hell?"
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Author's Note: There you have it! I wrote 80 of this while I was still sick, but I am feeling much better now. Thank you for reading and reviewing, it's the best part of the whole posting process! Eva Moon—I left a note to you on our yahoo group if you would like to go and read it, just click on the homepage link on my profile.
To all my other reviewers THANK YOU! This story would not be here if it weren't for you!