I do not own the rights to Harry Potter in any shape or form. The parts of this story that are not from the series is simple fantasy staring the characters we know and love.
Seriousblahblah: Thank you so much for your kind words. I'm glad that it drew you in and that you enjoyed it. :)
GeekyPlus: Thanks to you as well! I am a writer but I've never written a fanfic before. I have a case of writer's block for my own book so I decided to play in JK's world a bit for practice. I'm very glad you liked it.
Guest: Muchas gracias por tu comentario. Me alegro mucho de que te guste. :) Espero que te quedes con esta historia, la identidad de nuestra misteriosa mujer se revelará pronto!
Chapter Two
It had been three days since he found the woman in the forbidden forest. Three long days. Severus told himself not to wonder, not to care... but his thoughts wandered over the events of that night whenever there was nothing else to occupy his time.
A representative of St. Mungos had come to speak with Severus that morning after they spirited the woman away for treatment. They needed his statement. He went through the when, where, and why as efficiently as he could and then he made his way back to the dark spartan chambers that served as his home during the school year at Hogwarts. It was dark and silent. The cold dungeon made his bones ache.
Severus paced back and forth infront of the dying fire of his parlor for the rest of the early morning hours. The adrenaline that coursed through him that morning having left him a tad distraught and unable to find rest.
Coming back to himself, Severus rubbed the bridge of his nose.
She is of no concern to you, he told himself. And yet... he still felt responsible. He was shorter than normal with his students that day, every little thing a source of his ire.
He seethed around the dungeon as he tended to his potion making after classes. He aggressively chopped flabberworms and ground moonstone, all the while wondering what had become of her.
Did she come from a wizarding family? He doubted she was a muggle, even if she was a muggleborn witch. She would have attended Hogwarts long ago. What would a muggle be doing in the forbidden forest?
Sensing that he would find no rest again tonight, he exstinquished the fire in the the grate. He eyed the small jar of flue powder for a moment before summoning a house elf. The elf came promptly.
"What can Twinkle do for you, Professor Sir?" She asked, obscenely large brown eyes trained on his feet.
"Tell the Head Master that I will be back shortly, I've gone to run a personal errand." With that, Severus grabbed a fistful of the silvery ashes and stepped into the fireplace.
"Yes, understood, Sir." Twinkle said, disappearing to relay his message to the Head Master.
Severus hesitated for a moment before steeling himself. He threw down the powder. "Saint Mungos, visitor's entrance."
He arrived at St. Mungos feeling less confident than he did when he had left Hogwarts. There were several flues lining a pristine and clinical white corridor. Many friends and family members hurried through flues and down the long hallway that connected to the main hospital. He followed the flow of bodies to a large stone desk where a plump witch sat looking decidely bored.
"May I help you?" She eyed him suspiciously, turning in her squeaky and uncomfortable looking leather chair to face him.
"Yes. I'm here to see a patient."
"What room?" She asked, swiping the stray brown hairs that had come untucked from her bun out of her face and grabbing a thick accordion style folder and a clip board.
"I don't know."
"Patient name?" She asked again, one eyebrow arched as she dipped her quill in the small inkwell perched on her desk.
"I don't know."
"Then we're going to have a problem," she snapped, "why are you here?"
"I'm here to see a patient." He enunciated sarcastically.
The witch grit her teeth, "I can't let you in to see a patient unless I know who it is."
"I've already told you that I don't know her name," He retorted, crossing his arms over his chest and glowering at her, "filthy woman in rags, taken from Hogwarts. Severe bloodloss."
Something must have clicked because the witch's face changed entirely and she scrambled out of her chair, straightening her attire and looking sheepish.
"Oh, yes. Of course. Follow me, please. She's in room 204..." she set off down the hallway to their left. He followed, his foot falls heavy and foreboding behind the soft click clack of the witch's heels.
She stopped at a door at the end of the hall and turned to him, "She's been unconscious since she arrived."
He nodded and the woman opened the door, allowing him admittance. The woman was more or less as she was the last time he had seen her. Someone had seen fit to change her into a gown and scourgify her but her hair was still filthy. The witch left him alone after reminding him of their visiting hours.
Severus sank into the faded blue chair that sat against the wall furthest from the bed and closed his eyes. Why am I here? He thought to himself, I don't even know this woman.
You saved her life, his rational mind answered back. You are bound in blood.
He let out a shaky sigh. Blood debts were serious buisness. By saving her life, traditionally he accepted responsibility for her well-being and bound her to him until the blood debt was paid or until he died. It was the way of things. Magic was as useful as it was annoying at times.
A medi-witch dressed in light blue and white robes entered the room. She froze when she saw him, her eyes curious but she said nothing as she made her way to the unconscious woman.
He watched the small blonde-haired witch from across the room, scrutinizing her skill as she maneuvered her this way and that to check on her.
The woman was asleep. The medi-witch had tried to scourgify the girl again and used a clean rag on her but there was so much filth built up that it did little good. A proper bath would be the only thing that could lift the layers of scum and neglect.
"She still hasn't awaken?" The medi-witch asked softly into the quiet room, eyes pitiful and sad. Her gaze went over the woman and she tsked before turning to meet his eyes.
"Indeed," he forced his own gaze back to the woman, "has anyone identified her yet? Any information at all?"
The mediwitch shook her head, pressing her lips in to a thin line. "We haven't a clue other than those cuffs... but we believe she might be part fey of some variety, or at least touched. The cuffs are silver lined with iron. They've burned deep scars into her wrists."
Severus' brows shot up, his voice incredulous, "Can you not remove them?"
"I'm sorry, we tried but we can't."
Severus stood, narrowing his black eyes on the woman. Anger mounted in his heart swiftly. Close to roiling. They obviously weren't doing their best. He crossed the room stifly and picked up the woman's arm. Gingerly examining the intricate cuff that encircled her thin wrist. Fresh blood coated the inside of the cuff. It was indeed burning her. The beveled edges were inscribed with an elegant and flowing script.
"Goblin-made..." he noted through clenched teeth. How he hated Goblins, "enchanted, no doubt." He ran his fingers over the cuff looking for a locking mechanism or seam but came up empty handed. A small loop lay flat against the inside of her wrist but no matter how he pried it held firm. He continued to investigate it, some distant memory niggling at the back of his mind.
"It's undoubtly dark magic," the medi-witch dropped her voice to a whisper, "we don't know what it might do to her if we try to remove them let alone actually manage to get them off."
Severus pursed his lips, his gaze hard and steely as he wracked his mind for all of miscellaneous information he knew about the fey-folk and ways to trap them. Of course, cuffs lined with iron would do the trick... but to what end?
The woman stirred and he released her hastily, holding his breath. Her eyes fluttered open. The same curious purple-hued blue eyes from the hospital wing stared up at him and held him there. She tilted her head to the right, such a minute, insignificant movement and yet it told him that she at least remembered him.
"Hello, my name is Severus Snape." He said awkwardly, still standing above her.
She smiled a small, serene, and polite smile but said nothing.
The mediwitch rushed over to her, lighting the tip of her wand to check her pupilary light reflex. The woman's face pinched as the medi-witch drew near, fear washing over her. She recoiled in on herself, cowering away in confusion and raising her hands to protect her face.
"Hey, it's okay..." the witch crooned, "no one will hurt you here."
The woman continued to scoot away, almost falling off the side of the bed in an effort to escape the probing witch and her damned light.
"Give her a moment." Severus spoke firmly, feeling a swell of pity. He caught her against him and pulled her to a stand. She swayed for a moment but he righted her on her feet before stepping away to give her space. She instinctively backed herself into the corner, watching them both with wary eyes.The woman obviously had no idea what happening or where she was.
"If you're going to interfere with the care of this patient, you may leave." The medi-witch snapped at him. Severus stared at her, hard and even with black eyes that somehow seemed to burn like dying coals.
The medi-witch cleared her throat and addressed the woman, "Can you understand me?"
Her eyes darted to Severus, almost as if she was seeking his protection or assurance. He turned toward her and came closer.
"It's alright... this woman is a medic. She is here to help you. Everything will be alright," he coaxed, "I will stay here." Speaking in such a way did not come naturally to him, but she reminded him much of a deer he once befriended when he was a boy during his time at Hogwarts as a student. It had been such a shy fawn then. He'd spent hours talking softly to it every day for a week before it came close enough to smell him.
The woman fidgeted with the cuff around her wrist, staring down at it contemplativly and giving it a healthy tug before she frowned and held up her wrist to show it to them.
"No, we can't remove them," he said patiently as he gestured to the medi-witch, "this woman needs to examine you. Can she do that?"
The woman flicked her eyes to the witch apprehensively but nodded her consent.
"My name is Bronwyn," the medi-witch said kindly, approching slower and with more tact. "What's your name, love?"
The woman still didn't speak, opting instead to resume fidgeting with the cuff. Her filthy hair fell in a tangled matt across her forehead, effectively obscuring her face.
"Well, then..." the witch began, looking to Severus hopelessly as though he could force her to speak, "well... all of this can wait. Let's get you in the bath."
The medi-witch shooed him away with the promise that tomorrow he could see her, if he wished. Which he did for some inexplicable reason.
The medi-witch, Bronwyn, returned with a very different looking woman though livid bruises and cuts still marred her. While he had thought her hair might have been red or brown, it's true color was a pale shade of blonde that bordered on silvery. It was much longer than it had seemed before, falling in minky soft waves to her hips. Her face was small and heart-shaped, her eyes large but not overly. Lips pale but well-shaped, and chin pointed. She appeared very fey-like now that he could view her properly.
But she was small. Very small for an adult woman, which made him wonder if she wasn't still very young. It may have been due to who knew how many weeks, months or-he shuddered to think- years of malnutrition and torture. He glanced back to her face but found no real answer there. She had an ageless face, but her eyes were not the eyes of a child despite their gleam. He had never dealt with the fey-folk of her kind before but he suspected that she was a human mix. Her eyes met his and they seemed to swirl, nebulous blues, purples, and silvers in the depths of her strange irises. Her pupils dialated and rapidly shifted between large and small.
The woman approached him, almost upon him before he realized while he had been too busy gazing into her strange eyes. She moved like mist, silent and smooth. He blinked at her in surprise when she set her hand above his heart and smiled at him. Not knowing what else to do, he repeated the gesture only for the smile to slip from her face. She shrugged off his touch and turned, glancing away from him and then back out of the corner of her eye with some reproach.
It was a very odd encounter that served little to no purpose but to increase the confusion he felt. He had the oddest notion that he had offended her somehow, but he didn't know why or how.
"How are you doing today," he asked, "hopefully feeling better?"
She tilted her head and made an odd gesture, curving her wrist and hand downward and then back up with a flourish as though she were stretching her palm and fingers.
Bronwyn sighed, "We have not gotten any luck with getting her to speak. She won't tell us anything..." she watched the woman pick up the only pillow on the small hospital bed, pulling it apart to see what was inside. Bronwyn frowned.
"Have you asked her?" Severus questioned, ignoring the woman's interesting behavior.
"Asked her what?"
"If she can speak." Severus growled, his temper trying to leak out.
"Well. Actually..." Bronwyn looked shocked, "no."
Severus cast her a baleful look and carefully approached the woman investigating the contents of her pillow and caught her attention. She smiled at him and offered him a handful of stuffing. He took it.
"Thank you," he said, taking the bizarre gift and shoving it into his robes, "can you speak?"
The woman opened her mouth as though she were about to, but she sighed instead. Nothing but warm, moist breath. Her eyes turned sad as she shook her head.
"Do you have a name?"
Another shake.
No name? The idea floored him. Surely she had a name. It was an inconceivable idea to believe that a woman of her age -undetermined as it may be- didn't posses even a single syllable in which she went by. He watched her continue her controlled exploration of the contents of her pillow, a gnawing ache whitling away at his guts in much the same manner that she thrusted her tiny fist into the pillow.
"Would you like one?" He asked, not recognizing his own voice for a moment. The years of abuse he had gone through as a child rained down, a malestrom of anger, sorrow, and a strange protectiveness. His mother and father had been cruel, but they had at least given him a name.
She smiled radiantly at him and drew closer to him, her pleased eyes wide and expectant as she waited for her new name.
"Would it make you happy?" He asked, looking down at her, once again strangely enchanted. She nodded enthusiastically and placed both hands on his arm.
Severus took a deep breath, "Amaris, short for Amarissa."
The woman closed her eyes, letting the sound of her new name wash over her. She shook him slightly.
"Amarissa." He said again, his heart flipping in his chest. Amarissa opened her eyes, a single tear falling before her face broke into a huge smile. She wrapped her arms around him and burried her face in his robes. Her head rested perfectly over his heart.
Severus froze, becoming stiff and uncomfortable in her embrace even though a part of him really enjoyed the affectionate contact. He wasn't used to gentleness. He disengaged. Amarissa was still smiling even as he held her at arm's length, those nebulous eyes swirling in happiness.
"Would you like me to visit you again?" He asked. She nodded her head vigerously and he almost chuckled at her enthusiasm but refrained.
"I'll come back tomorrow." He promised.