Good evening and warm welcomes to all. I have never written a fanfic before, but I really hope you like it. I do not own any rights to Harry Potter or to anything of JK Rowling's creation.

Chapter One

The forbidden forest was cloaked in frigid white. December came with a vengeance, leaving nothing untouched by frost and snow. The moonlight reflected off of the crystalline spires that hung from the boughs of pine, the heaviness causing them to sag low.

Severus' breath hung in a fog around him as he waited in the wintry dark. Grateful for the warming charms on his cloak, boots, and leather gloves. He cast the tempus charm, relieved to see that there would only be minutes left to wait until midnight. Snowberry was naturally the most potent after a fresh falling of snow. The fact that there was a full moon tonight was just good luck- all herbs and plant matter were best picked at midnight during a full moon. He eyed the bushes full of the small toxic berries greedily. They were round and white, each berry perfect. Severus had spent the majority of the night hunting for the best berries the grounds had to offer. They'd be perfect for the new wound salve he was working on... the saponins in snowberries made for an excellent healing agent with disinfectant properties.

Impatient, he cast the tempus charm again and watched the time pass.

Three minutes. Two minutes. One minute. twenty seconds... fifteen seconds... ten seconds... five seconds... time.

The potions master descended upon the bush and pulled the white berries from the plant as fast as his long agile fingers were able and tucked them into the large dragon hide satchel on his hip. He took meticulous care in keeping the plant itself intact- it wouldn't do to destroy a bush that gave such good ingredients. Every apothecary, potion master, and horticulturist knew that damaged and unhealthy plants gave a weak harvest. He kept his eye on the tempus infront of him, knowing that after the first fifteen minutes of midnight the snowberries would be back to a lower potency.

Once he was satisfied with his bounty he latched the satchel and stood, his neck and back protesting. He didn't mind much. Long nights spent over a cauldron had made him grow used to the near constant ache.

There was a great many things that could be said for nature. It brought peace. Perhaps not the forbidden forest itself, though he was familiar with it and comfortable. None of the creatures held within had ever bothered him be-

Crack.

A sudden sound jarred him out of his thoughts. With one swift movement Severus brandished his wand and pointed it in the direction the sound had come from.

"Lumos." He spoke, the tip of his wand sputtering to life and bathing the frosted underbrush in white light. A whimpering sound reached his ears and he furrowed his brow, weighing his opinions.

Should he investigate or should he leave and put the sound behind him?

The wimpering sound came again and he set off, determined to find the source. It sounded human- female. If he found any idiot students in the bushes together he was going to have an aneurism. He heard a feminine moan and he grit his teeth in irritation as he broke through the underbrush with stealth.

The sound of ragged breathing reached his ears and he peered into the bushes to his left, a sharp and angry admonishment forming on his tongue.

A woman lay in the snow.

Her long hair spread out in a tangled mass around her, soaked in blood. He couldn't tell whether it was red, brown, or black for the filth. Her short dress was in a similar state. The filthy white tatters were rusty with blood, old and new. Doing nothing to protect her from the elements. She lay on her side, pale limbs exposed to the moonlight. Silver cuffs decorated each wrist and ankle. She cried out again, a low pitiful moaning.

Confused, Severus reached for her. She recoiled at his touch, her eyes opening wide. They were unfocused and bleary. She attempted to scramble backwards and away from him but he caught her around her waist, her back cold and slick with congealed blood.

"Be still." He ordered, forcing her into a sitting position. On either side of her spine there were deep verticle wounds. They oozed dark red blood. The blood trickled down her back sluggishly and if not for the snow, she would have already bled out. As it was, she looked moments away from shaking hands with her creator. Her lips were blue and her skin held the deathly pallor of extreme blood loss. How she still clung to her consciousness was a mystery.

Before he could finish thinking it, her body went slack. The woman collapsed against him and he panicked. She was dying. She was going to die. He would bear witness to her passing and he didn't even know her name. He ripped his cloak off and wrapped it around her tightly and then hoisted her up and onto his shoulder and ran through the darkness, aware of the faint breath that sometimes took a moment to long to fall across his skin.

The mystery woman was completely limp in his arms, her head flopped rythmically against his shoulder with each step. There was nothing but the crunching sound of snow and ice and his own labored breath. The cold moon gazed impassively down on them, distant and uncaring.

Hogwarts loomed infront of them. Severus threw his hand out and opened the door wandlessly, not slowing down. The wooden door scraped his right shoulder and it jarred him but he kept running until he made it to the hospital wing. He kicked open the door and called for Madame Pomfrey.

Madame Pomfrey was awoken by a crash and the deep bass of the potions master. She couldn't make out what he was saying due to the thick stone walls but her heart lept at the sound of panic in his voice. Several times this year he had come in with unexplainable wounds. Covered in blood and delirious. There were times- more than she cared to remember- that she thought she might not have the power to save him. She threw on her cream night robe and ran from her chambers down the short halway that opened up into the hospital wing, terrified at the thought of what she might find.

The sound of clanking bottles and banging cabinets greeted her when she came through the doors. The sight of Severus hurriedly rumaging through the potions cabinet with gritted teeth confused and alarmed her.

"Severus," she called, "what on earth are you doing?"

The potions master ceased his search just long enough to jerk his head to the left and call out a controlled, "Blood loss, severe bruising and lesions. Hypothermia likely. I need a blood replenishment potion as well as a warming tonic."

Madame Pomfrey blinked, darting her gaze to the bed nearest to the potions master and gasped. On the cot lay an unfamiliar woman, as pale as death and dripping with blood. She ran to the woman's side, dropping to her knees to assess the deep gashes on her back. Her clothing was mere strips beneath Severus' cloak.

Severus had laid her on her side. The blood pooled on the statched white linens, covering the little cot in red. The woman made for a chilling, macabre sight. Madame Pomfrey closed her eyes and muttered a healing spell to staunch the blood flow. She pressed her hands to the woman's back and repeated it over and over in a litany.

Somewhere Severus was cursing before he finally came to her side.

"Sit her up, Poppy."

It was easy. The girl was so slight, bordering on skeletal. Madame Pomfrey shivered when her hand made contact with the silver cuff around her wrist.

Someone held her captive and tortured her... judging by the amount of scaring and fresh wounds she could see around the cuffs, her captors had her for a very long time. She studied the cuffs, her brow furrowed. They had an inscription around the beveled edges. The cuffs themselves were pristine and borded on decorative. Her thoughts were interupted as Severus pried open the woman's mouth and poored a small cocktail of potion down her throat.

"Her wounds aren't closing." Poppy whispered, the blood under her fingers had slowed but didn't stop. It was worrisome. If she didn't clot, the potion would do her no real good... she'd continue to bleed out.

Severus exhaled loudly through his nostrils, his eyes fixed and intent while he rubbed the woman's throat to make her swallow. Then he nudged her out of the way, closed his eyes and sang.

"Vulnera senentur... vulnera senentur... vulnera senentur."

Sweat began to trickle down the side of his face, the blood refused to stop.

"Vulnera senentur... vulnera senentur... vulnera senentur."

He pressed harder to her back, mustering all the power he could.

"Vulnera senentur... vulnera senentur... vulnera senentur..." he trailed off, opening his eyes to see that the woman was still. Her chest ceased rising and falling. He was too late. She was dead.

Severus released her, his hands almost black with her blood. He wondered what horror had accompanied her in her last moments. What pain. He sighed and shook himself. It was done. Her suffering was over now. Madame Pomfrey reached past him, her face severe as she pulled the white hospital sheet over the dead woman's face.

"Well, that's that then." Severus stated, looking at the woman with practiced stoicism.

"Poor dear. I'll have to raise St. Mungos to take her before the children see..." Madame Pomfrey sniffled loudly, wandering away from them to cry under the guise of rearranging her cabinets.

Severus stood to assist the hospital matron and then the woman gasped, a deep lungful of air that pulled the white sheet taut over her mouth. He ripped it away, his eyes wide with disbelief. The woman beneath the sheet coughed weakly and he scooped her up into a sitting position and held her hair back while she retched out stomach bile. She shakily looked up at him, blood and sweat plastering her filthy hair to her forehead. Her deep blue eyes were almost purple in the low sconce light of the hospital wing.

He felt a sense of relief. She was alive. Shaking and sick, but alive.

"Poppy," he barked, "flue St. Mungos immediately and inform the Head Master!"

To be continued...

Author's Note

Thanks to everyone who took the time to read this chapter. Please, leave a review and tell me how you liked or disliked it.