Chapter 13
"NOOOO!" A wail of agony breaks the night's silence, making Severus stagger. He grips the wall in alarm. All his anger floods away, tumbling down an invisible drain. His feet suddenly feel unnaturally heavy against the floor.
Potter!
His eyes dart to the closed door at the end of the hall. Sheer panic swirls in his black eyes. He has to get to her. Now.
He makes a mad dash toward the shrieking, hoping he won't be too late. He yanks open the door with a sweaty palm. With his wand outstretched defensively, he hurls himself into the dark bedroom and freezes.
Potter is sprawled on her back in the center of the bed. Sweat shines on her pale skin. She's changed out of her school robes and back into one of her long, ratty tee shirts, which has ridden up to expose her stomach. Her fingernails rip at the skin on her thigh as if fighting off an invisible attacker. Fresh blood smears the sheets.
And he just stands there, his mouth hanging slightly open, his feet refusing to move.
She's obviously having a nightmare. A particularly horrid one. Were they always this bad? No. She'd never wailed like this before. He would have heard her.
Now aware that the girl is only dreaming instead of being attacked, the blood in his body begins to circulate again. She's safe. That's what matters. He drops his wand back into its holster and stares. His alcohol addled brain struggles to make sense of the situation.
Potter is having a nightmare. She broke into my lab. The brat stole from me. Potter is in distress. She's a child, and I am currently her guardian. Dammit.
But why? Why would she be having a nightmare now? If she'd taken dreamless sleep, it shouldn't be possible.
The girl lets out another cry, and he cringes. Against his better judgement, he creeps closer to her.
Potter's head jerks in his direction and he can clearly see her pained expression.
"Mum, no," she moans with her face half buried into the pillow and her legs flailing wildly.
What? Why would she be dreaming about Lily?
"Potter," he blurts uneasily.
"Mum, please," she whines again.
A skeletal hand flies to her face, latching roughly onto her cheek. Long, jagged fingernails sink into flesh, tearing downward until blood escapes.
He blinks dazedly at her, shaking his head.
Do something before she scratches her damn eye out!
Severus lurches forward and firmly grasps one of the girl's bony wrists in his fist.
She lets out a shrill scream and wild magic charges through the room. A cup of water on her bedside table shatters, sending water and glass gliding across the stone floor. An intense burst of electricity shoots from Severus's hand throughout the entirety of his body. He stumbles away from her with a gasp.
"POTTER! WAKE UP!" He booms, leaning down close, but the girl is unresponsive.
"Mum," she whispers in response, her voice pitifully small. "Help me."
She's not talking to him, but her words reach him all the same. He has to help her.
He grabs her roughly by the shoulders and begins to shake her, hoping that the force will be enough to tear her from sleep, but she continues to jerk in terror.
Overwhelming dread rises in his stomach.
Why won't she wake?
She can't have taken dreamless sleep. It's just not possible. She must have taken something else. But what? His eyes dart back and forth as if searching for a solution. And then it hits him.
It has to be a sleeping draught.
That's the only explanation that makes sense. The potion is of similar color and viscosity to that of dreamless sleep, and he often labels them in shorthand with sloppy, jagged script. Perhaps she saw the word sleep and was in too much of a hurry to look any further.
That potion is intended for individuals with insomnia, and it is never to be taken by someone with frequent nightmares. He looks down at her ashen face, so full of pain. She's effectively trapped herself in her worst nightmares.
When her bloody fingers fly for her face again, Severus reacts without thinking. His arms shoot out, capturing both of the girl's limbs in a vice like grip. He jerks her forward, pulling her into a sitting position. Squeezing her wrists tightly, he forces her arms to cross over her chest in an X and pulls her into a tight embrace.
The whole room begins to shudder beneath his feet. The wardrobe trembles and tips on its side. Something Severus can't see falls inside the bathroom and shatters. Perhaps the mirror? Shards of glass begin to dance in the air carried by powerful gusts of wind. He grips the girl even tighter, curling his body around hers to protect her from flying debris.
If he can restrain her for a few minutes, maybe she will stop fighting enough to calm down. Then he'll have time to think of what to do.
The girl's sweaty form wriggles against him, struggling to get free. She kicks and claws with all her might, gasping and screaming all the while. Severus grunts and tightens his grip. The girl is stronger than she looks. Eventually, with all her energy drained, Potter whimpers pitifully and she goes limp in his arms. At the same moment, the room stills and the sparkling bits of glass swirling around them dive back toward the ground.
She's giving up. Just as she did in that graveyard.
He can vividly remember how still she'd lain near the end of her torture. Just like a corpse. But with Lily's eyes. Those dead green eyes. Goosebumps sprout on his arms in response to the memory. He peers down his hooked nose at her.
Thank Merlin her eyes are closed this time.
Severus clutches her close to his chest, stiffening more every time a pitiful cry escapes from her lips. It's clear she's suffering.
"Mum," she sniffles. "Mmm sorry."
Her declaration is too much for him to bear. His grip automatically loosens, desperate to be free of her. He's never been this uncomfortable in his life.
She's fine now. Put her back. Quickly.
He maneuvers the girl's head back onto the pillow with one jerky motion and pulls away. Finally, he can breathe again. He hadn't even realized that he'd stopped.
Severus jumps to his feet and strides nervously back and forth in front of the bed. His legs feel less numb now. Sobriety and sense are creeping back to him. And with that renewed level of awareness comes the urge to have another drink.
Potter flops in her sleep once. Then twice. He stops pacing and stares, hoping she'll settle herself down. She doesn't.
He sighs loudly. Why can't the girl just rest?
She cries out again, and the prickling sensation of magic bubbles around them once more. A few pieces of stray parchment flutter lazily off of the desk.
You have to act now.
His sense of urgency lures his hand down toward his wand. He has an idea. He isn't sure if it will be effective, but he has to try before she gets any worse.
"Enervate!"
He casts the spell with all the force he can muster. It works.
Potter shoots out of the bed like a bullet and promptly crashes onto the floor, shuffling back until she collides with the wall. Her eyes are open, but they do not see. She's frantic and frail and her mind seems disoriented after being yanked so roughly from sleep.
"It was a dream, Potter," he calls out to her. "It was only a dream."
She can't hear him. She curls herself into a ball with her arms tucked protectively around herself, whimpering in fear.
Oh, Merlin.
Severus approaches her slowly. It's unclear if the girl is aware of his presence or not. She appears to be stuck midway between sleep and consciousness.
But he has one more idea.
Severus pulls his wand up and points it at her quaking form. Then he douses her with a stream of ice-cold water.
The girl sits up abruptly, flinging water droplets, and her eyes go wide, scanning the destroyed room before settling on Severus with a mixture of fear and confusion. He stares back, not yet ready to speak.
Potter shivers and draws her bare legs up to her chest, hugging herself tightly and taking deep, audible breaths. He notices that even awake, her nails have a tendency to dig into her skin, leaving behind crescent shaped indentions.
The girl looks over at him again and opens her mouth slightly, but then she propels herself off the ground and into the bathroom. Her knees hit the hard floor, and she bows over the toilet, just before the sound of violent retching reaches his ears. Her body shakes with the force of powerful dry heaving.
That potion was probably the only thing in her stomach.
Severus watches her struggle, unsure of what to do. He can't provide comfort. That's just not in his nature. And he can't stop the inevitable. The combination of shock, distress, and an unfamiliar potion are bound to cause such a reaction. She gags and sputters loudly, and he turns away. She'll need time to compose herself. Meanwhile, he busies himself, lighting the candles along the wall and clearing away the mess of upturned furniture and broken glass. He leans down to retrieve Potter's glasses, which were fortunately unharmed, and finds a photograph discarded on the rug. He nearly drops it when he sees the woman smiling up at him.
Lily. And Potter. And mini Potter tucked in her mother's arms.
He pitches the photograph onto the desk, making sure it lands face down. Then he hears a final heave and a flush. A moment later, the girl emerges, wiping her arm across her mouth. She crosses her arms over her chest and pads toward him uncertainly.
He studies her, keeping his face impassive. She's refusing to shiver even though he can clearly see the goosebumps on her arms. Dots of blood line her legs and feet beneath fragments of glinting glass. Deep claw marks mar the skin on her arms and neck and face. She doesn't let her pain show. Her back is straight, and her eyes are vacant. If he hadn't been here keeping her from tearing herself apart, he wouldn't have known that the dream had even fazed her. He's both impressed and dismayed. And now that he knows she's safe, he's also more than a little irritated.
"Come with me," he says coolly. He ushers the girl out the door and into the sitting room.
A fire blazes, warming the area and letting off a comforting glow. He sits in an armchair, hoping that the girl will follow his lead, but she doesn't.
"Sit."
Potter reluctantly perches on the very edge of the chair furthest from him and closest to the flames, her hands clasped firmly in her lap, her eyes trained on her bare toes. The scratches on her face glow red in the firelight.
"Would you like a calming draught?"
The girl shakes her head. "I'm fine, sir."
What a bold-faced lie.
"You are not fine."
She looks up at him then, scowling.
"Stay here," he instructs. He goes into the kitchen for a moment, returning with two cups one filled with water and a headache reliever, and the other, a hot chocolate laced with a calming draught. He hands the latter to Potter, who reluctantly accepts it. She sips it slowly, taking great care to keep her hands from shaking.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?"
The girl blinks up at him slowly, her eyes shifting from side to side. "I don't understand what happened, sir," she replies evenly.
"Your thievery could have easily gotten you killed. That's what happened."
"I still don't understand."
"You stole from me last night, correct?"
She studies him for a moment and then nods almost imperceptibly.
"Do you know what you stole?"
"Dreamless Sleep?" she says, but it comes out sounding more like a question than a statement.
"No, Potter," he snarls, his exhaustion finally hitting him at full force. "You took a powerful sleeping draught. So, instead of resting peacefully, as you could have done had you followed my simple directions," he spits. "You ingested a potion that trapped you in your nightmares with no way to escape, provoking your magic and keeping me awake half the night!"
The girl's eyes go wide. But her response seems to be the result of his anger, not in regard to her own wellbeing. It's as if she doesn't understand how easily she could have died from ingesting the wrong substance. Or she doesn't care. There were plenty of vials in his storeroom that could have done serious damage, especially when ingested without food. She could have taken something far worse than a sleeping draught.
She bows her head. "I… I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean."
He waves her pathetic apology away, eyeing her bloody cheek with irritation. "Your intentions were obvious."
Without another word, he strides from the room, returning with a salve. "For the scratches," he explains. "And I'll need to remove the glass."
Apparently unaware of her injuries, she looks down, eyes widening as she notices the blood. There is quite a lot of it.
He bends down beside her, pulling out his wand. "Hold out your leg."
Potter hesitates before slowly raising her right leg. Most of the shards are lodged in her knees. He's able to retrieve them relatively easily. The girl doesn't even flinch. Then he repeats the process with her other leg before moving on to the soles of her feet. When he's finished, he backs away, sensing the girl's immediate relief at his departure.
"Don't forget your face," he warns, pointing to the gashes on her cheek. He doubts Potter is even aware of their presence. She's tended to most of the visible scratches already, although he knows the bloody claw marks on her thigh are still open and oozing.
The girl prods at her face with tentative fingertips, pulling away when she feels the stiff, dried blood. She smears a bit of the salve over them and holds out the jar to him.
"Keep it. You will need to reapply it in a several hours."
Potter places it on the side table and shifts closer to the fire. Her damp nightshirt sticks to her skin, and it's clear that she must be freezing. Those pathetic excuses for clothing that she wears had already been wildly unsuited for life in the drafty dungeons. Severus grabs the throw blanket on the couch and tosses it to her.
She narrows her eyes at him.
"It's a blanket, Potter. Use it."
She gathers the warm wool around herself, tucking her legs up into the chair, and then stares at him.
"I will replace the potion," she says firmly. "I promise."
"Don't be daft. I am perfectly capable of brewing it myself."
"Well, I can buy the ingredients then."
"I do not need your charity," he growls, before continuing. "However, I hope you're not foolish enough to believe that there will not be consequences for your actions."
She falls silent.
Severus watches her sip awkwardly on the hot chocolate and stare into the fire. He waits until her mug is nearly empty before continuing. "We will discuss your punishment tomorrow. Right now, I need to know more about your nightmares," he begins. "Are they always so extreme?"
"They aren't so bad," she says slowly, deliberately avoiding eye-contact.
He scoffs. "Do you always dream about your mother?"
The girl's eyes snap away from the fire. "What do you mean?"
"You talk in your sleep, Potter. I heard you calling out for her."
"You must have misheard me."
"I did not," he says firmly. "Is she always in your nightmares?"
Potter doesn't answer him immediately. She purses her lips, fiddling with the cup in her hand. Then she peers up at him. "No. Tonight was a special one," she whispers bitterly. "worse than normal."
"Because of Black," he guesses, knowing he's right when she stiffens slightly.
She shrugs and avoids eye contact. "I dunno. Maybe."
"Your godfather is an idiot."
This catches her attention.
"No. He's not."
"He is."
Potter shrugs again. "Maybe. But he was the only family I had left."
She shifts uncomfortably in the chair, moves the blanket aside, and climbs to her feet. "Can I go back to my room?"
"No. We're not done talking."
"Well, I don't have anything else to say."
"Potter," he says sharply.
"What? I broke a stupid rule. It was stupid. I screwed up. Again. So, if you're going to send me away, just say it Snape."
Of course. Of course, she'd think he was going to do something so extreme. The child has never known anything other than rejection. How awful it must be to have a life utterly lacking in control.
"You're not going anywhere. Sit."
The girl stares at him uncertainly before sitting again. She fidgets nervously with the edge of the blanket.
"Tell me what happens in your nightmares."
"What? No."
He exhales noisily, pinching the bridge of his nose. Stay calm. He takes a deep breath.
"Potter, I just need to know if they pertain to your assault."
She doesn't speak. Perhaps she isn't able.
"Just nod or shake your head."
She gulps audibly and then nods.
"Do you think about it often?"
She nods again.
"Is the memory affecting your day-to-day functioning?"
Another nod. He'd expected as much. But the questions are still helpful. He needs to be absolutely certain of her state of mind.
He takes another deep breath, bracing himself. "If there were a way to remove that memory, would you wish to?"
The girl stares at him expectantly. Interest flickers in her eyes.
"The headmaster and I have come up with a method that may help you. It should keep the memory from weighing on your mind. And it should help decrease the severity of your nightmares. If you give your permission, I could-"
"Yeah. I mean yes," she blurts breathlessly. "Can you do it now?"
He hesitates, ignoring her interruption. "The process will be rather unsettling. Perhaps you should wait a few days."
"No. I don't want to wait. I need it out of my head," she insists, locking eyes with him. "Please Professor."
"In order to do this," he begins slowly. "You're going to have to think about the memory, in detail, from start to finish."
The girl pales slightly. "I… I still want to do it."
"Not tonight."
She nods as if reassuring herself. "I already think of it most of the time. I can do it. I want to do it now."
She's so desperate that he almost gives in, but he manages to restrain himself. She can't go through this tonight. Not after that nightmare. She needs rest. And food.
"No. If you can manage to follow my directions for a few hours, I will attempt the process tomorrow night."
"Tomorrow," she whispers to herself as if she doesn't truly believe it.
"Tomorrow," he confirms.
With the promise of potential relief weighing on Potter's mind, she's surprisingly cooperative. It takes little coercion to convince her to eat a full meal. She doesn't look particularly happy curled up in front of the fire sipping chicken soup, but she doesn't complain either. He monitors her progress, watching as the bowl slowly drains before offering her a small crystal vial.
Severus is actually thankful that the girl had thrown up the other draught. It wouldn't have been safe to give her dreamless sleep otherwise. The two potions have too many ingredients in common. With the draught gone and food finally in her stomach, he's confident that she will be able to digest it safely.
"This is dreamless sleep," he says snidely, placing it firmly in her grasp. "Don't you ever take a potion without my permission again."
"Yes, sir," she says before downing the potion in a single gulp. He holds up a hand to stop her, to tell her to wait until she's back in her room, but it's too late. The potion's effect on her is instantaneous. She isn't even able to pull herself from the chair before her head lolls and she drifts off.
His hand shoots out to grab the vial just before it slips from her limp fingers and smashes against the floor. Idiot child. He shakes his head in amusement and bewilderment. This girl, Lily's girl, is going to be the death of him.
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