All characters still belong to JK.
A/N: Thanks to all the people who took the time to review—Phantasm, sad clown, GinnyL, notwritten, and Looks Far Woman.
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Now it's the middle of the night but I'm still awake, listening to the night-sounds all around me. There's Severus' quiet breathing next to me, but in her crib across the room, Inanna is a noisy sleeper. She breathes loudly, rolls back and forth and moans softly. Then there's the occasional thump and giggle from the flat upstairs, where two young witches who are in Auror training live.
I lie awake and wonder who I'm going to see for a second opinion. I don't really know any other healers besides Dr. Zakar. I consider owlng Madame Pomfrey in the morning for a suggestion, but I don't really want to. I hardly keep in touch with anybody from those days. It all seems so awkward, now.
Even though my husband was acquitted for Dumbledore's murder, the acquittal was neither an easy decision for the Wizangamot nor a popular one with the public. If it hadn't been for the intervention of Arthur Weasley, using the bottled memories Severus had given to Harry, he would have been sent to Azkaban. Arthur was brave to do that--to take an unpopular position that he believed in. They say that's why he was never appointed Minister.
Even until this day, a lot of people still think Severus deserved to go to Azkaban. I understand why they feel that way, but they don't know him like I do. I know the guilt he feels for his part in the murder, but he's not the type of person to beg for forgiveness, and the public likes dramatic, showy remorse.
And so, we tend to keep to ourselves. I do miss my friends from the old days, but I knew what I was getting into when I married Severus, and I don't regret it.
I roll over onto my side, but sleep eludes me. When I was a little girl, night time was for dinner, then watch some telly, then Mum would read to me and tuck me into bed. I liked that. Then when I went to Hogwarts, everything changed. Nighttime was for hanging out with my friends in the Gryffindor common room and having fun. Sometimes we had adventures, when we were fighting against Voldemort and his minions. I look back at it now, and that seems fun, too, although actually, it was terrifying at the time. I guess it was fun because I was with Ron and Harry and Ginny and all the rest of my friends.
After the War, everything changed. Instead of having adventures, we had to settle down and get jobs and decide what to do with our futures. Which might have been fun--but it wasn't because that was the time that the wizarding world was breaking into political factions. Even though Voldemort was dead, we were all scared. Many of us had lost friends and family. My classmates and I were done out of our last year at Hogwarts, for even the ones who attended barely got any education at all because of the upheaval of the War. The economy became tight, and it seemed like everywhere you went you were met with tight, pale faces. People worried. In the months before Ron's and my breakup we fought nearly every night. Then after we broke up, I hated nights because I was so lonely. When I couldn't stand the loneliness of my apartment I started hanging out in a local cafe just to be around other people. I didn't make any new friends during that time. I was too depressed. But at least I was around people.
Everything changed once again after Severus Snape came back into my life. Now I enjoy nights again. Not as a time for adventures, but as a time for us to hold each other and talk, or kiss, or whatever.
Carefully, without disturbing him, I inch closer, curling myself around him so as not to wake him up. I'd like to wake him up, however. I want to wake him up so he can hold me and I won't have to be scared alone. But I don't. He has a job tomorrow morning and Merlin knows we could use the money.
There's another reason, too. Severus doesn't know everything about my condition. Because I haven't told him.
He knows I lost my witchcraft. That's pretty hard to hide in a marriage. But I didn't tell him about the fatigue. Or the nosebleeds. Or the blinding headaches.
He doesn't know that I lie down during the day whenever I can. By luck, he hasn't been around when my nose starts bleeding. And his headache potions are so efficient, that he doesn't know just how bad the headaches are before I take the potion. He also hasn't noticed that we're getting low on it. I better ask him to make more.
Mum knows about the fatigue and the rest of it. I confided in her. That's why she comes to help me with my housework. She thinks I should see a "real" doctor, a medical doctor. But a muggle doctor wouldn't be able to tell me why I lost my powers.
Tomorrow I'll swallow my pride and owl Madame Pomfrey.
Tomorrow.
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