"Saving Eden"

This is a tribute to the genius of JKR. All Harry Potter characters belong to her.

Chapter Two - Awakening

A strange beeping sound intruded on his wonderful dream. He was warm and happy. He'd never felt so content, but what was that damn noise. Severus Snape forced his eyes open.

"Well look who's rejoined the living," a woman's voice teased.

At first he couldn't focus, but slowly the speaker came into clear view. A heavy set woman with a warm smile stood over him fiddling with some bags of liquid on a pole. She reminded him of Molly Weasley. How could I possibly be alive, he wondered. He survived enough torture under the Dark Lord to know when his body had been pushed beyond the point of recovery; at least beyond the point of muggle means of recovery.

As he tried to rationalize his very existence he realized someone was holding his hand and his head immediately turned to the opposite side of the hospital bed. It was Eden. The girl, now dressed in bright green surgical scrubs, was curled up in a chair drawn up close to his bed. She was clean now, but she still looked small and vulnerable. Her hair was pulled back into a simple ponytail, her face was very pale and there were dark rings under her eyes. Even in sleep, she clutched his hand tightly.

"She hasn't left your side for more than five minutes since you came down from the operating room. It's been three days, but she insisted on remaining with you. We're all so grateful for what you did Mr. Snape. Eden's such a wonderful girl, a real treasure. If anything would have happened to her…" The woman was too horrified by the possibilities to even continue. "Well, let's wake her. She'll be disappointed that she wasn't the first to talk to you."

Snape tried to stop the nurse, but he couldn't force the words from his dry throat. He didn't want anyone to wake the girl. She was sleeping so peacefully and she must be exhausted from her vigil. As the woman shook her gently, her eyes fluttered open and she saw her hero was finally awake.

"Thank God," she cried out, "I thought you'd never wake up."

"I'm going to get Dr. Sawyer," the nurse interjected, "he'll want to check you over."

And suddenly they were alone. Snape couldn't help staring at Eden. As he watched the emotions flicker across her lovely face he saw deep concern turn to relief. She closed her eyes momentarily as if in prayer. When her gaze returned to him her blue eyes betrayed feelings far deeper than a lovely young woman should feel for an unattractive stranger; even if the stranger may have saved her life. She smiled at him and that simple gesture called forth a strange feeling in his chest.

"Would you like some water?" She finally broke his silent reverie.

He nodded and she picked a large container with a straw and guided the straw to his lips. Snape drank greedily.

"Not too fast," she warned.

The cool liquid felt wonderful, like a potion sure to restore his speech. Snape smiled slightly as he whispered the question he desperately wanted to ask her. "Back in the alley, how did you know my name?"

Eden smiled broadly. Her teeth were perfectly straight and blindingly white, just like the actresses he'd seen in the muggle movies when he was a boy. She leaned in close to him, as if she were about to tell him a great secret.

"She didn't know your name until the sheriff tracked you to that motel," a stern voice interrupted. Two men stood in the doorway. The one who spoke was an imposing older man with gray hair wearing a large cowboy hat. The other man, in the starched white coat, was obviously the muggle healer. "Eden, let the doc get in there and look at him," he suggested firmly.

The girl reluctantly released his hand and moved to stand with the grave man near the doorway. He immediately placed his hand protectively on her shoulder. Snape observed the old man studying him intently. He wondered why he didn't seem friendlier toward him. He had saved his what, wondered Snape, daughter of perhaps grand-daughter? Then Snape realized where the man's eyes had settled; on his dark mark. The mark was no longer magic, but its imprint remained. A cold realization overwhelmed Snape. Somehow this man whose arm now cradled the lovely woman whose gaze never left him knew he was a Death Eater

"Mr. Snape," his attention was forced to the doctor who now occupied the chair, "you had quite a bad injury. A knife wound to the chest. It penetrated you right lung and nicked your artery. You lost quite a lot of blood. Honestly," he sighed, "it's a miracle that you are still with us. We were able to repair the damage, but it is going to take some time before you are completely recovered." The doctor turned his attention from his patient to the woman now standing at the edge of the bed. "On a personal note, I don't know how to thank you for saving Eden." As he spoke the man looked up adoringly at Eden.

Snape knew that look. He'd seen it enough on James Potter's face. He was besotted with the girl. The doctor was young and handsome. They would make a fine couple. Snape was foolish to think a young woman would ever have an interest in and ugly old man like him. His eyes tracked sadly back to Eden, but surprisingly she wasn't returning the handsome doctors gaze. Her eyes remained firmly fixed on him. Snape felt his face flush and the warm feeling from his dream returned to his body.

"Doc Sawyer is right Mr. Snape," the older man spoke as he approached the other side of the bed and offered his hand. "I owe you a life debt."

A life debt, thought Snape, a strange choice of words for a muggle. And the voice of the man seemed different from the others. He was from somewhere else too. The man continued, interrupting the former spy's musings.

"If anything happened to my niece, I'm not sure I could go on." There were tears in the man's eyes. Snape took his hand as firmly as possible and claimed his thanks.

"Any man would have done the same." He replied in his horse English accented voice.

"Mac McCloud," he belatedly introduced himself as the handshake broke apart.

The man seemed genuinely grateful. Snape was now annoyed at his own rampant paranoia. These people were simple muggles. McCloud didn't know the dark mark. He probably assumed Snape was one of those motorcycle blokes he saw at truck stops covered in tattoos. Snape's eyes couldn't help returning to the lovely woman at the foot of his bed. He noticed she seemed to be swaying slightly. Her exhaustion was clearly overwhelming her.

"Eden, I think you should sit down before you fall down," he gently suggested. The other men's attention shifted back to the girl and the doctor quickly jumped from the seat as the uncle guided Eden back to the chair next to Snape.

I'm fine, really," she insisted as she scooped his hand back up. She grasped it tightly, as if she were afraid that he would suddenly disappear.

Suddenly, Snape was overcome by a fierce desire to protect Eden, to look after the girl. He couldn't imagine where this feeling was coming from. He didn't care about anyone but himself. He tried valiantly to reassert his usual cold demeanor, but it was no use. She was like a virus infecting him. With each beat of his heart, he felt her coursing though his veins. He noticed his thumb tenderly stoking the back of her hand. Her skin felt like velvet.

"Eden," he finally spoke, "you're worn out. I'm going to be fine. You need to go home and get some rest love." Damn he said it again. He'd called her love, just as he did in the alley.

She hesitated for a moment; then nodded and rose from the chair. This time it was Snape who was reluctant to break the connection.

"It seems that you've finally found someone Eden's willing to listen to Mac," the doctor laughed knowingly.

"Perhaps," Mac responded without a smile moving toward his niece.

Eden bent down and brushed her lips to his rough face. "I'll be back Severus," she promised.

Severus, he loved the way she said his name. Snape felt his fingers involuntarily release her hand and as she moved away he felt a sense of loss.

"Get some rest Mr. Snape," Mac suggested.

Snape nodded and the three of them moved out the door. He closed his eyes and tried to remember everything about her. How her hand felt resting in his, the sound of her voice, the pressure of her lips against his cheek. His eyes flew open. Something wasn't right. The dream, the girl, her loving stare, the uncle and the dark mark; did it all mean something?

"Idiot Snape," he admonished himself. Dumbledore had simply given Snape a chance to do something right for once; a way to assuage his guilty conscience. He was letting his imagination run amok.

He closed his eyes again and this time her face swam into view. His chest began to tighten. Perhaps he should ring for the nurse. Then he realized this feeling in his chest had nothing to do with the injury. He had this feeling once before, though now he realized it was but a pale imitation of its current manifestation. The feeling was love. Severus Snape was in love with the girl.

"Damn you Dumbledore."

There was only one question now. What was Snape going to do about it?