ELISABETH could only look on in horror as her friend lay unresponsive and motionless on the ground.
The wind that was beginning to pick up as the black and purple thunderclouds loomed directly overhead of them now tousled his wavy dark brown hair that was already almost grown back, now that he no longer served as a host to the Dark Lord.
It was likely a subconscious side effect of Quirinus's magic. She suspected he was growing it back out of a sense of self-consciousness without him even realizing he was doing it.
In another day or two, his hair would be thick and luscious and lovely again, as it had once been, rendering him in her mind that much more handsome, in spite of his scar.
For a moment, Elisabeth remained frozen to her spot, fearing the worst, that perhaps the man had died of a complaint of a heart or that his body had become too taxed from stress.
She could not begin to understand what was happening.
He had always been easily startled throughout their friendship, and in her letter to her, Professor McGonagall had mentioned that Quirinus's jumpiness had seemed worse over the last year.
Of course, this had been before either one of them had given any thought that something was gravely wrong with their Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. It felt as though the world around her was collapsing as she stared, too paralyzed in fear to be able to move or think at all.
She let out a breath she did not realize she had been holding the moment she caught sight of the wizard's chest rising and falling through the thick material of his black knit turtleneck sweater.
That was the only sign she needed that he still lived.
She propelled herself towards Quirinus frantically, and skidded to a halt at the fallen wizard's side, desperate and panicked and feeling at a complete loss as to how to help
Timidly, Elisabeth stretched out a trembling hand, her slender fingers beginning to shake, and her palms were turning clammy, something she had not anticipated, as she lowered her hand to the wizard's wrist with the intent of rolling up the sleeve of his sweater to feel for his pulse.
Though before she could, an angry shout rent through the air behind her just as thunder started to roll.
"Do not touch him."
She grimaced as she recognized the voice, icy and cold, that smooth buttery purr that made the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand up on end. The Potions Master, Severus Snape, was approaching. She could hear him.
Sharply, Elisabeth turned her head to regard the sallow-faced Head of Slytherin House as Severus strode forward with his wand in hand, with the Transfiguration Professor, Minerva McGonagall, close by.
She jumped back away from her fallen friend and hopped up as though the ground around her were on fire as she turned and found herself staring directly into the scrutinizing gaze of Potions Master Severus Snape himself. His black eyes narrowed in suspicion as he tilted his head to look at her.
A shudder went down her spine as she remembered Snape was an accomplished Legilimens and purposefully attempted to clear her mind, though it was much more difficult than she expected it.
If the man had read her mind just now, he was good at concealing it, for Severus Snape's expression remained impassive, and difficult for Elisabeth to make out his emotions, if the wizard was feeling anything at all.
The Potions Master's jaw hardened and twitched seemingly in annoyance as he looked down his nose at her.
He seemed to be waiting on a remark on what she and Quirinus were doing here on Hogwarts Grounds in the first place.
She parted her lips to speak, though nothing but a strangled attempt at a coherent sentence managed to squeak its way past her lips.
"He, we...Barty, I don't..."
Severus rose an eyebrow at the mention of Crouch's name, though offered no comment.
Elisabeth could only watch in dread as Severus Snape averted his gaze from her and loomed over Quirinus like an ominous shadow. Severus stooped and lifted Quirinus with the help of Professor Minerva McGonagall.
The poor man was barely conscious by this point, though teetering on the brink of unconsciousness as the man's eyelids flickered open and shut, barely perceptively, as the pair began to head in the direction of the castle.
"Miss Raywood, if you could follow me please, Severus, if you could escort Professor Quirrell to the Hospital Wing and inform Madame Pomfrey he is collapsed, I wish to speak to Miss Raywood alone."
She turned towards Elisabeth and fixed her with a pointed stare she at first was not sure just how to interpret the look.
"You may see Quirinus afterward. For the moment, we need to allow Madame Pomfrey the space to treat him unencumbered. We would only succeed in getting in her way, and nothing for the moment will be solved just yet. Please. Follow me, and keep up."
Severus nodded and briefly flicked his gaze towards Elisabeth as she rose to her feet, standing on legs that felt as though they could barely support her body weight.
Her miserable, forlorn gaze lingered upon Quirinus as he struggled to keep up with Severus Snape's quick and purposeful strides before something within clicked and pulled the distraught, stricken witch to her senses.
She wanted nothing more than to turn her heel and follow Severus inside the castle towards the Hospital Wing and refuse to leave her dear friend's side until the man woke.
However, she could not directly refuse an outright request from the one professor that Quirinus had trusted above all other staff, including Dumbledore.
Professor McGonagall was, in a way, she supposed, responsible for Quirinus taking up the post of Muggle Studies Professor at Hogwarts before Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Everything he owed, he owed to her, Elisabeth thought, affectionately, and could only pray that for the moment, Quirinus would be alright without her by his side for a few moments.
The two witches did not stop until they reached Professor McGonagall's office. Professor McGonagall strode past Elisabeth to situate herself in her chair behind her desk and motioned for Elisabeth to occupy the chair in front of her.
Elisabeth could only comply.
"Sit down, Miss Raywood, and take a biscuit," Professor McGonagall commanded of the stricken witch in a curt tone bordering on a finality that suggested Elisabeth would not be wise to argue with the Transfiguration Professor at this time.
Elisabeth hesitantly reached across the older witch's desk for the small tin of biscuits and gingerly took one, taking a tentative bite of the cookie, and nibbling on it lightly.
It should have otherwise under different circumstances been delicious. However, due to her anxiety, it tasted like cardboard in her mouth. She rested back against the backrest of the chair and struggled to collect her thoughts.
She was jolted out of her thoughts when Professor McGonagall spoke.
"How fares our Muggle Studies Professor?" Professor McGonagall inquired, genuinely concerned for Quirinus's well-being, for a moment, Elisabeth was utterly gob-smacked as she slowly lifted her gaze to Minerva's and locked eyes with her.
"He...he's been better," Elisabeth croaked hoarsely. She desperately searched the older witch's lined and careworn face for any hint that the Transfiguration Professor was lying to her, though none could be seen.
She wondered for a moment why it was that Professor McGonagall had requested to speak to her alone and not Quirinus's former Head of House, Professor Flitwick.
Perhaps the confusion was evident in her eyes, for Professor McGonagall spoke before she could even get the question out.
"Professor Flitwick is currently occupied in assisting Professor Dumbledore alongside Professor Vectra in moving the Mirror of Erised to a more secure location off-premises, though Dumbledore has already informed him of his former student's condition, as Professor Flitwick and I are the ones who know him best. Perhaps, dear, it would be best if you were to start from the beginning. I had thought the two of you would be in Doveport for the remainder of the summer, so what could cause such a swift return to Hogwarts, Miss Raywood? Why have you returned so prematurely?"
Elisabeth hesitated and nibbled on the wall of her mouth as she looked away from Professor McGonagall's piercing eyes of catlike green for a moment and towards the witch's office window as she struggled to collect her conflicting thoughts.
The sound of the thunder and heavy rain outside broke her out of her thoughts, somehow making the day seem deeper, and darker. She was grateful Quirinus had thought to come here, to put as much distance between themselves and Barty as possible, though she knew as long as she wore the wizard's ring on her finger, they were not safe.
She would not put it past her former fiance to have put a Tracking Spell on the delicate piece of jewelry. She frowned.
The glass windowpane was now streaked with tiny droplets of water as they pattered against the pane.
She turned her gaze back towards Professor McGonagall and found the Transfiguration Professor was looking at her expectantly, and Elisabeth then remembered that she owed Quirinus's mentor and colleague these days now, she supposed, an answer.
She would have wanted to contain her honesty as the matter pertained to Barty, thinking that Barty was her problem and hers alone to deal with. The wizard was dangerous and she would not allow Quirinus to suffer anymore on her account.
Barty would need to be dealt with, in time, though for the moment, she was so overcome with shame and worry over her friend's condition, she could think of little else.
It was too late to take back her words as the confession was ripped from her lips as she kept her gaze fixed on the ring on her finger as her hands rested nervously in her lap. She was suddenly too overcome with shame and shyness to be able to look at Professor McGonagall directly.
"Barty attacked Quirinus, Professor, he..he grew angry with him and lost his temper, Minerva," she whispered, shamefaced.
It was a long moment before Elisabeth could find her voice again.
"He—he was a mistake. Always," she lamented mournfully. "I was blind to have trusted him, let alone to think that I could ever love him, much less allow myself to become engaged to the man. I—I was a fool," she admitted.
She did not think that she could bear to look into the Transfiguration Professor's eyes, for she was sure if she did, Minerva McGonagall would be looking upon her former student as if she were such a disappointment to her.
Though she was surprised when Professor McGonagall immediately addressed her self-deprecation and vehemently shook her head no, sending the younger woman's words away, and shoved the tin of biscuits across the desk at her.
"Take another biscuit, Miss Raywood, and if you would indulge me for a moment, allow me to speak quite plainly with you, if I may," Professor McGonagall commanded coldly.
Professor McGonagall paused to adjust her spectacles, pushing them back up the bridge of her nose and peering at Elisabeth through the lenses of her glasses with such ferocity that for a moment, Elisabeth thought she was seeing the shadow of her mother, may Merlin bless her soul not.
Elisabeth stiffened and ground her teeth at the memories that flooded through her mind without warning whatsoever.
Though Professor McGonagall continued in favor of supplicating the younger witch seated across from her in hopes of diffusing the sense of defeat she sensed within the former Slytherin, hating to see the light in her eyes had dimmed and her shoulders slumped in disappointment.
"You are no fool, Miss Raywood. Please do not refer to yourself as such while in my company. It has always bothered me, Miss Raywood, the low opinion you hold of yourself," she sighed, almost sounding disappointed. "For what reason could Barty have possibly attacked Quirinus? To hear the two nearly come to blows is unthinkable. To the best of my knowledge, Bartemius's son has never hurt a fly." She frowned, confused. "It was my understanding that the two wizards were not exactly bosom friends when the three of you were in school together, though Mr. Crouch has always been quite harmless. Boisterous, yes, and perhaps over-confident at times, though I daresay it is a side effect when you are intelligent enough to obtain twelve O.W.L.S."
She paused to draw in a breath and fixed Elisabeth with a pointed look that at first, she did not know what to make of.
"I do not think that I need to elaborate further on this matter, Miss Raywood. You alongside Barty and Quirinus achieved the same O.W.L.S and are intelligent enough to know. Which begs the question, what on earth could have possibly happened between the two men tonight to provoke Barty to physical violence, my dear?" Minerva questioned, the Transfiguration Professor struggling to make sense of all she'd said.
"He, we…I…" Elisabeth trailed off, hesitant and unsure of how much to divulge to Quirinus's mentor and her former Transfiguration Professor as she was stricken with the realization that she was not aware of Barty Crouch Jr.'s true nature, where the man's loyalties supposedly lay, with the Dark Lord himself.
There was a part of her that did not wish to have to explain herself or the complicated history between the three of them.
She was unaware that the exasperation and fear were plastered all over her features like a Permanent Sticking Charm, as Professor McGonagall curiously studied the pretty redhead across the desk.
Professor McGonagall could only watch as the poor young witch's countenance shifted from a look of almost utmost certainty to one of vulnerability.
She immediately regretted asking such an intimate question, though at the same time if Barty had harmed one of their members of staff, they needed to be told the whole truth.
It was, however, perhaps the one question that she and the Headmaster and the rest of the staff, those who were still present, wanted the answer to perhaps the very most. Only Professor McGonagall could have asked such a private question of Quirinus's close friend and initiated an answer.
Elisabeth Raywood had always liked her, she knew and had appreciated that she had taken Quirinus under her wing and had become a mentor figure to the man when no one else had been available at the time.
Elisabeth Raywood was an incredibly gifted witch, talented, but shy, though that shyness usually tended not to last the more comfortable she became around an individual and opened up to them gradually once she got to know them a bit better.
Considering the two were not strangers, far from it, she hoped Elisabeth would be completely candid with her now.
It had been the reason why Professor Dumbledore had insisted upon watching Quirinus collapse outside on the grounds from the window that Minerva speak with Elisabeth in the hopes of coaxing the truth from the witch.
After what seemed an interminable wait as she watched Elisabeth Raywood's internal struggle, she spoke softly.
"They argued over…over me marrying Barty, Professor. Quirinus...does not approve. Nothing more and nothing less than that," she confessed, her facial expression twisting and contorting into a grimace as she shifted her eyes to the floor.
Professor McGonagall waited patiently for Elisabeth to continue explaining, but the young witch stayed silent.
"You're quite certain that was all, Miss Raywood?" questioned Professor McGonagall, her voice concerned.
"That was all," replied Elisabeth after a momentary pause as she'd hesitated.
She gripped tightly onto the edges of her chair and ground her teeth as she could no longer stand the space inside her skin and rose from her chair, the legs of the chair making an audible scraping sound as she turned to flee.
Her cheeks burned as she realized she had just lied to one of her former teachers for the very first time in her life.
"E-excuse me, Professor, if I may be excused and take my leave of you now, I need to see him, I need to know that he's alright."
She fled from the Transfiguration Professor's Office, feeling the burn of Professor McGonagall's gaze burning a hole in the back of her skull and shrouded in fear of the way the witch's catlike green eyes followed her worriedly to the exit.
ONCE outside, Elisabeth felt as though she could breathe again and took the nearly deserted pathway to the Hospital Wing at a near run.
The shock and embarrassment she felt upon realizing she had just lied to the one person whom Quirinus had trusted beside her above all others were almost too much for her to handle.
All that remained was the horrible steady aching pain the moment the wizard had been escorted away from her, the hurt that refused to leave. The pain she felt now would not even allow her to celebrate the fact that he was still alive, that her friend had been returned to her, after all this time apart.
It made her almost terrified to admit what her heart already knew, buried deep within and long since repressed.
That her feelings for Quirinus Quirrell had never died. That she thought she could love the man, if he would only come to realize his feelings for her on his own without her help and reciprocate them, too.
She reached the end of the corridor and skidded to a halt, trying to determine if she was composed enough to step into the Hospital Wing and see him or to continue fleeing in hopes of finding a private space, needing a moment to herself.
Part of her wished to hear the sound of his footsteps coming behind her, but she knew if she were to turn and see Quirinus's sweet face coming towards her, she'd be powerless to resist the man.
It had taken everything within herself not but fifteen minutes ago not to attempt to follow him back to Doveport. She wanted to continue forward, but her feet refused to go on for one more step.
Her breaths caught in her lungs, her lungs beginning to burn, her chest hurting. She knew at any moment the tears she had desperately choked back while reining them in during her conversation with Professor McGonagall would burst forth, uncontrollably, and she would be powerless to stop her wretched tears from falling, and then, the whole castle would know her secret.
She was desperate to find privacy, away from any staff or lingering students who were preparing to go home for the summer holidays who might see her in a moment of weakness.
Her nervous and tear-filled eyes made a quick scan in front of the spaces that were closest to her and spotted a deserted classroom with the door slightly ajar and thought that sufficient.
Somehow, she forced her feet to carry her the last few steps that it took to reach the darkness the empty room would give her.
Once inside, she slammed the door shut so loudly that the ancient oak panel rattled on its hinges but she did not care who heard.
.She pressed her back to the wall and tried to will her racing heart to relax and a good breath or two to return to her burning lungs, which were begging her to fill in with fresh air.
Elisabeth squeezed her eyes shut as a single teardrop slipped from the edge of her right eye, the wretched little droplet.
She brought her fingers to her lips, remembering the only time she had summoned up every ounce of courage within herself that had existed then to kiss the wizard.
Even that, it had been a gentle and chaste kiss to the cheek, when she had tried to plead with him to convince him to stay, though the action had only succeeded in making him angrier.
If she possessed a Time-Turner, she would will herself back to that precise moment underneath the willow tree of his backyard and give the man a proper kiss.
Her heart ached with the love that she held for her friend, wishing there was a way that she could tell him the whole truth.
Softly and regretfully, after several minutes, Elisabeth opened her eyes, which now stung with her tears and were cracked and red-rimmed at the edges. She sniffed a few times as she wiped her nose.
Her breathing had regulated to something that once more resembled normalcy, and she swallowed down hard past the lump of emotions and tears now swamping her throat.
She knew if Quirinus were standing here now in front of her at this exact moment, she would succumb to the many emotions rising within her at this thought that she would plead with the wizard to consider giving her a chance.
She could love him, if only he would learn to trust her, as he once had done, back when the talented wizard could still remember her fondly. When Quirinus could still remember them.
When she had recovered her composure and she was confident that she was no longer feeling claustrophobic or faint, she stepped from the classroom and continued down the hallway, this time taking a left when she reached the corridor's end.
She did not stop until she reached the Hospital Wing, only to look on in dismay to find a wizard standing outside the Hospital Wing's doors, stiffly, at attention, and it was not exactly whom she had hoped to see right now. The Hogwarts Headmaster stood conversing in low tones with the Potions Master.
They spoke too low for Elisabeth to make out anything of what was being said, though it was obvious the two wizards had been talking, and most probably about her, as both Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape looked up as Elisabeth cautiously approached, the skin of her brow pulled taut and tight with worry.
Professor Dumbledore's wrinkled and lined face showed the exhaustion the warlock would likely not allow himself to feel for several hours yet, yet the man was good at concealing it, for when he spoke to Elisabeth directly, his tone was crisp, clear, and professional.
"Miss Raywood, it is…a pleasure to see you again, my dear lady. I only wish that your return to Hogwarts was under better circumstances," Dumbledore lamented.
Without waiting for a remark from Elisabeth, he turned towards Severus.
"See that I am summoned, Severus, should there be any change. Mr. Quirrell should be arriving within the next five minutes, I feel it is only right that I am outside to greet the man when he arrives, he was quite distraught when he received my message," the Hogwarts Headmaster bid, unknowing of how Elisabeth had gone pale at the mention of Quirinus's father.
Quinton Quirrell was admittedly the last person she wanted to see and had hoped never to see again, and yet, even she as the man's friend and Healer, could not deny the father his right to see his only child.
Elisabeth was too stunned to form a coherent reply as Professor Dumbledore turned towards her and offered the stricken witch a slight incline of his head, a show of reverence.
"Miss Raywood, it is always a pleasure to see you again, perhaps the next time we meet, it shall be under more pleasant circumstances. I do hope for that, and to speak with my Muggle Studies Professor soon, perhaps when he is better rested and of a more sound mental state, my dear. I will return to check on Quirinus in an hour. Until then, if you would kindly excuse me," he murmured respectfully, and turned on the heels of his purple dragonhide boots and began to walk down the hall towards the castle grounds.
Elisabeth was left alone with her former Head of House, stunned, leaving her watching Professor Dumbledore to depart.
She did not take her eyes off the ancient warlock until Albus Dumbledore rounded the corner and disappeared, turning slowly back towards Severus Snape, having to crane her neck to be able to look into the man's black eyes, feeling her eyes widen.
Her resolve nearly faltered, and she almost turned to run, thinking that everything about this situation was so awkward.
The witch wished for nothing more than a hole in the ground to open up beneath her feet and swallow her whole, and not let her emerge until Quirinus's father had come and gone.
She had never thought she would be greeting her former Head of House like this, though Severus was not much older than she and Quirinus, Severus was in his early thirties, for Merlin's sake, and had been a few years ahead of her and Quirinus when they were in school.
She and Quirinus were only twenty six, a few months apart from one another. It should not have been so strange for Severus to have been the one in charge.
And yet for Snape to be her Head of House had always struck her as odd. Thankfully, their interactions had been minimal.
It took Elisabeth a moment or two to find her voice.
"Quirinus, Professor, how is he?" she begged, using his title in the hopes of supplicating her Head of House. "May I see him?"
Professor Snape's expression remained listless and difficult to read, though she watched, feeling some hope swell in her chest, as the man's lips parted to speak.
Before he could, another familiar voice rent through the air behind them then.
"No, Miss Raywood, I daresay that you are the last person my son needs to see right now," Quinton Quirrell answered Elisabeth's plea harshly.
Elisabeth suddenly felt sick as she need not even turn her head to recognize the owner of the voice. It was unmistakable.
Nevertheless, she knew she could not ignore the wizard forever, as much as she would have liked to, and was left with no choice but to attempt to be the better person in this situation and turn to him.
Slowly, dreadfully, and regretfully, she turned around and found herself staring face-to-face with Quinton Quirrell, Quirinus's father, and she did not think she could stomach the contempt with which the taller, older wizard was eyeing her now.
Elisabeth's breaths caught in her throat as she had to crane her neck to look up into the spiteful stare of Quinton Quirrell, hating that both Mr. Quirrell and her Head of House loomed over her in terms of their height.
The spiteful glower Quirinus's father was now giving her made her feel as small as a Wrackspurt.
Quirinus was almost a spitting image of his father, save for his nose and his eyes, both of which had come from his Muggle mother, Helena Quirrell, though the poor woman had been dead for years now, ever since they were both turned sixteen.
The only difference between the two was Quirinus was slenderer and shorter than his father, for Quinton had a deep chest and broad shoulders.
His strong physique was the result of well over ten years spent dealing with cantankerous hags, werewolves, and various other creatures for the Ministry of Magic's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.
Quirinus's hair was much darker than his father's, Quinton's light ash brown hair which was beginning to thin as he aged was speckled with bits of salt and pepper, giving the man a distinguished look.
Quinton Quirrell had retired from his career after an injury involving a vampire had taken his left hand.
When most other wizards would have chosen to lay down in defeat and die after such a grueling and painful injury, Quirinus's father had willed himself to heal and be even stronger for it.
Quinton Quirrell's face mottled red in his rage as his hardened, weathered face and suspicious dark eyes made a quick scan of Elisabeth, and she desperately tried to convince herself at that moment that she neither looked nor smelled funny. She hoped not, at least.
She frowned. The edges of the man's mouth pinched and turned down into a heavy scowl.
Elisabeth felt her stomach turn when she came to understand, without the slightest doubt in the world, that Quinton Quirrell was openly and without any shame, leering at her.
Her cheeks turned deep cherry red and she tried to pretend she did not notice as he spoke quietly.
"Why are you with my son, Miss Raywood? Dumbledore did not inform me in his Patronus that you would be here with Quirinus," he sneered. "For what purpose are you skulking about outside the Hospital Wing hoping to see him? I will not have my son unsettled with your presence, witch," Mr. Quirrell demanded, almost sounding angry with Elisabeth now.
Elisabeth raised an eyebrow and looked towards her former Head of House for any assistance, though Severus remained silent. It was clear that he was intrigued by how she intended to handle Quinton, and she knew then that she would get no help from Severus Snape.
Exhaling a frustrated sigh, she turned back and faced Quinton, thinking over her words.
"Why should I not be with him, sir? Did Dumbledore inform you in his message to you that he's asked that I stay by his side, both as his friend and a Healer while he recovers?" she asked, crossing her arms and resisting the urge to shout at the unpleasant man.
The longer she looked at him, a thousand childish emotions flitted through her brain all at once, nearly overwhelming her, though she fought to keep her voice as level-headed as possible.
"He is my friend, my patient, Mr. Quirrell. I need to be allowed in to see him, just for a moment, I do not intend to take up too much of your visit with him, I need to see he's all right."
Her tone dropped to a nearly whisper with worry for Quirinus, and she was taken aback and caught off guard and thus ill-prepared to respond when Professor Snape stepped forward in hopes of diffusing the tension between the two, clearly disinterested in their conflict yet not wishing a brawl to break out in such proximity to the Hospital Wing.
"Miss Raywood," he spoke crisply in a smooth buttery purr that set the hairs on Elisabeth's neck standing on end. "If Quirrell's health is your only concern, I think it best if you leave him in peace for the moment, though he was awake when I escorted him inside the Hospital Wing and was requesting to speak to you."
Panic flared to life behind Elisabeth's brown eyes.
She shook her head. "What's wrong with him? He's never fainted before now," she informed the pair of wizards, a faint note of pride slowly seeping its way through the surface of her voice as she boasted of him.
Severus raised his chin defiantly and all but sneered at his fellow former classmate-turned-student.
"Miss Raywood, please do not play the part of the fool, it does not suit you. You are no ignoramus, so cease behaving as such. You are an intelligent enough witch to know. You do not think that perhaps narrowly escaping a duel with Bartemius Crouch Sr.'s son would be shock enough to test a wizard's constitution? Crouch is a skilled dueler, Miss Raywood, one of the best, and perhaps you were not aware, though last Halloween, he fainted in the aisle of the Great Hall upon announcing the troll he had let loose into the castle's dungeons. This has happened to him before," he challenged, his gaze flicking between the two.
"Not Quirinus, Never, he has never fainted before in his life, something is wrong with him, Professor, and I need to find out what that is, but I can't do that unless I can see him for myself and speak to him. I need to know that he's alright, Severus, please," Elisabeth fired back hotly, her jaw hardening and becoming steel as she clenched her fists.
She closed her eyes, willing her temper to cool a little before opening them and turning towards Quinton.
If the wizard wanted her to grovel in front of him on her knees and beg if that's what it took to be allowed to see him, just for a moment, then she would do it, though her patience with Quirinus's father was wearing thin.
"Please, sir. Let me in to see him. Just for a moment."
Mr. Quirrell could hold his wrath no longer.
"Have you gone deaf now, witch? I gave you my answer! You are the last person my son needs to see, Miss Raywood, now, and as far as I'm concerned, for the rest of his life. There is nothing more you could do to help my son. It devastated him when you announced your engagement to Crouch, did he ever speak of that to you?" he sneered, his triumphant smirk widening at seeing Elisabeth's face pale in shock.
Elisabeth gasped and took a staggering step back away from him and only came to a halt as she accidentally barreled straight into Professor Snape's chest, not watching where she was going in her stupor.
She stiffened as she felt the wizard's slender hands come up and rest on her shoulders to steady her, though she did not pull away. Elisabeth could only watch, hurt, as Mr. Quirrell's lips turned down in a frown as the man all but leered at her.
She swallowed down hard, desperate to think of something—anything—to say to make this situation better, not just for herself, but for all parties involved.
"Mr. Quirrell, what can I do to make it better?" she whispered, shamefaced, chewing on her bottom lip.
"Nothing," he answered immediately. Mr. Quirrell did not even have to think about his answer. "There is nothing more that you can do, Elisabeth. Just stay away."
His piece said, he turned on his heels and disappeared through the doors of the Hospital Wing, slamming the door in his wake so hard, it rattled.
She felt a horrible pang welling in her chest. She felt as though she could not breathe and suddenly, she wanted comfort from no one, not even her former Head of House, though she secretly thought Snape incapable of giving her pity.
She ripped away from Severus and turned to look towards the sallow-faced Potions Master, looking over the man's bony shoulders, his lanky black hair that hung like a curtain in front of his face, greasy, in dire need of a washing.
Severus Snape was not a handsome man, and there was a strange, almost peculiar broken sort of beauty to the man's pale face, his complexion almost startlingly white against such rich black hair. A striking contrast between the two.
Yet, for even going as far as to show a small ounce of support towards her in an otherwise tense situation, she felt a small tug of affection for Severus Snape that went deeper than their simple previous relationship as professor-student.
It frightened her and her hands tensed as she took a staggering step backward.
"Thank you, Professor, for…for that, were you not here with me, I fear to think what might have happened," she whispered, thinking that she saw Severus bristle at the use of his title, which she thought was rather odd for the wizard.
He nodded abruptly and looked towards the now-closed doors of the Hospital Wing behind which Quinton Quirrell had disappeared.
"You are welcome, Elisabeth. Need I remind you, I think it wise for the moment that you give both men their space. Come back in an hour, Mr. Quirrell will have left by then, I believe. He has another appointment. I will inform Dumbledore of your…situation as I need to speak with him regarding another matter and am headed to his office, regardless of what has just transpired here."
Without another word, he turned and disappeared down the dimly-lit corridor, the man's long black robes billowing behind him as he strode with quick purposeful strides away from her.
She was going to make to follow Severus to inform the Headmaster herself but was too physically and mentally exhausted to move.
All she could do was stare down at her left hand, at Barty's enchanted ring that now glittered there and seemed to be permanently stuck to her finger, cursing herself and hating herself for a severe lapse of judgment when she had said yes to Barty's proposal of marriage shortly after they had graduated school.
As she stared down at the ring that Barty had slipped onto her ring finger while she was still knocked unconscious, her stomach tightened into horrible, churning knots and she felt like she was going to be sick. Bile rose in her throat.
Her dark eyes were glossy and distant for Merlin only knew how long before she turned around and disappeared down the hallway, away from the Hospital Wing, away from Quirinus, and headed towards one of the bathrooms. Her breathing felt heavy and her chest was tight.
When she got to the sink, she stared down at it for a moment and then threw up everything in her stomach. Even afterward, she heaved, though there was nothing left in her stomach to come up. However, the bile that had risen painfully in her throat still lingered. She spit, rinsed out her mouth, and waved her wand to clean the sink.
She turned on the hot water as hot as she could make it, and gave her wand another sharp rap to conjure a bar of soap. She did not care what she had to do, Barty's damned bloody ring was coming off, now.
The man was sure to find them again, there was a Tracking Spell on this ring, she was sure of that much, at least. Elisabeth only managed to succeed in scrubbing the skin of her hands and wrists raw and only turned down the temperature of the water when the pain from the heat became too much to bear.
Her hands were red and angry, but Elisabeth could not manage to pretend to care right now.
Black spots began to form at the edges of her vision, nearly threatening to blind the distraught witch wholly. Her body began to sway and her head felt light. She took her hands away from the scalding hot spray of water and clutched at the edges of the porcelain basin for support.
It took a few moments for her vision to return to her and the spinning in her head to stop, and she put her hands back under the water in hopes of loosening the ring on her finger, though Barty's warning that it would not come off rang in her eardrums. Her heart was in her throat as she realized she was not alone.
Professor Snape had come to stand in the doorway of the bathroom, and she knew her former Head of House was scrutinizing her actions, watching her intently, but she continued scrubbing at her hands.
Tears pricked her vision as they came to her eyes as she desperately began to claw at Barty's stupid silver ring he thought he could keep her prisoner with, as his wife. She picked at it so hard that her finger began to bleed. She turned the water off and shakily raised her left hand at eye level. She did not care that Severus was watching her now. She thought she saw the beginning of understanding pass through the Potions Master's mind, but Severus was not allowing himself to believe it.
"I know you're thinking of doing it, Elisabeth, do not even consider it as an option. Allow me to look into the matter for you. I am sure there is another way," he murmured, and she could not be sure, though she thought she heard the faintest twinges of concern in the slightly older wizard's dull baritone voice.
Elisabeth sank to the floor and leaned against the sink for support and openly sobbed, her chest tight as her burning lungs could not take in enough air to fill in. She did her absolute best to ignore the horrid throbbing pain in her hand and the blood now trickling down her finger from where she'd scratched it raw.
She waited, listening for Severus to speak, to say anything. When her Head of House sensed that she was not going to speak to confirm his suspicions, what he feared was correct, Severus turned and walked away, his heavy boots walking down the corridor, she let out a little breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
Elisabeth did not want to diagnose herself, but as a Healer, she had earned that right by this point in her short career, she would say she had just suffered a full-blown panic attack, considering everything that had happened. She had no idea how she was going to make it through the next several months, helping Quirinus to heal, convincing him that she could love him, with her sanity intact.
She continued to stare at the ring glittering on her finger, and as she did so, she was stricken with a realization, one that made the blood drain from her face.
Elisabeth thought the beginnings of understanding were beginning to form in her mind, the longer she eyed Barty's ring and grew suspicious as to what sort of enchantments the wizard might have placed upon it.
She thought she knew how to get it off. What she needed to do.
A/N: My Apologies for the length of this chapter. I had wanted to split it up into 2 parts, but...neither section had the impact I wanted it to give. Thanks for bearing with me, and I hope you continue to enjoy the story!