A/N: wooohaaaa Oo um yeah sry don't have any valid excuse for updating so late XD honestly...I've been in no mood for writing X3 ah, well, hope you'll forgive me...
Wake Up
Chapter 9: Fate
Fate. It was always there, somewhere hiding for a surprise attack. Be it at the right time, the bad time, or neither of those - it just seemed to pop up from nowhere; reminding whoever the victim was that you should consider its existence once in a while. She wondered if it ever left one's side - perhaps it was the only thing, besides your shadow, that never left you?
Well, whatever it was, Nymphadora Tonks was currently blessing and cursing its painfully clear presence.
The supposed day, or rather night, of her glorious rescue/escape plan to be followed through (okay, so it wasn't really her plan…) had progressed slowly. She remembered how she'd curled up into herself, as so many times before, and listened to the weak footsteps outside of her room. She'd tried to imagine the man whose footsteps echoed along the empty hallways in that old, worn-down house. She'd seen him before her dull eyes; how he walked away from her door slowly, but gracefully, making his way towards his living room and personal library. Then, he would stop in front of one of the bookcases. Maybe title his head a little, peering at the names of the many books that surrounded him like a wall - as the one of stone around his heart and mind.
She dared to smile as she thought of his annoyed expression if what he was looking for wasn't there; it was out of place and not where he had thought he knew, and wanted, it to be. A shiver would go through her as her eyes traced the imaginary finger that caressed the book spines one by one. The thin, pale finger that belonged to a hand large enough to fully cup her cheek, among other things, and spread warmth throughout her shivering body with a single touch.
Then came the slight sneer. That thin-lipped sneer that told whatever he'd been looking for, and apparently found, he'd won and wouldn't let it get away again. After the sneer, she'd see him taking a little step backwards before turning around. She had been almost certain by then that the sounds of his shoes against old creaky wood matched her mind's scenery perfectly. One, two, three, four, five, stop. Turn slightly. Sit down. Cross left leg over right, lean back into an old couch, open book, read. She'd tried many times to imagine his different expressions, as the silence indicated he wasn't going to move anytime soon, when he read or pondered difficult subjects. She'd tried to recall her time at Hogwarts; tried to see the strict Professor behind his big desk, cold eyes scanning the pages of his book as the class worked. But no matter how hard she tried, nothing but scary images of his face twisted in fury, disgust or evil contempt came to mind. But trying to put a smile onto the lips of Severus Snape took up more than enough time during her most uneventful hours alone.
She never succeeded though. She got as far as to a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, but then a sarcastic smirk would take its place. Even the expression of calm and loose control was hard to place on the Snape in her mind. He seemed to be her puppet, her toy, but even in her own world she couldn't control him. She couldn't break him, or even move him, more than an inch.
But smiles and calm be damned; his burning eyes as he claimed her mouth was etched into her poor mind forever. Never mind that dangerous lust was as dark and untamed as his robes during a blizzard, gracing her skin like fire and ice; boring into her soul. The intense feelings he awoke, the chaos of pain, pleasure, relief and worry he inflicted upon her were almost enough to kill, she mused. From numb to so openly vulnerable and needy. It all happened so fast, all of this. This nightmare, this twisted reality that mocked her bruised mind and beating heart.
Curled up into herself, imagining a shadow move around, playing joylessly with her memories and questioning her sanity over and over again had been part of her daily routine. Not taking in the heated visits of her captor and saviour at night, sometimes in the afternoon, that would involve either half-hearted curses, numbing pain that had stopped hurting anything but her delicate skin somewhere along the way, or full fledged, undeniable lust. Never mind the fact that since the first time, that desperate break down when they both surrendered and turned their backs to logic, he would stop at each bruise he came across with his lips; pulling away only to return before snapping out of whatever daze he'd been put in. Maybe once, or twice, she would be able to lure him closer. But she couldn't really tell if it was all in her mind, or if it really had happened. Some things seemed so clear, like the calming sounds of his footsteps outside her door, or the memory of those burning, dark eyes…
What wasn't clear to her then, or even now as she sat staring blankly at the wall in front of her - thoughts never leaving that old house and its owner – was the surprisingly little amount of time that had passed. Only a few days, not even a complete week if she had been informed correctly. How could all of this have happened during so few days? It wasn't long ago she'd woken up on a Monday, dragged her feet to the office, and then back home; repeating the progress a couple of times and then…it was Friday. Not that it had mattered back then, she often worked on weekends and really, what was another week to add to these dark times where every waking hours should be spent to fight against the mad-man called You-Know-Who? In any case, days had passed swiftly, while now…it felt unreal. A week, that used to feel like two or three days, now had felt like at least a month. But she had not spent thirty days locked up in a rotten house with a Death Eater and spy extraordinaire. She had lived there for a week. A week. She'd taken several blows to her pride and being, lost any sense of sanity and ability to separate reality from dream, fallen in love with what was supposed to be her abuser and accepted it all with the normal grace that was Nymphadora Tonks.
Grace.
The word stuck in her mind as someone, she didn't know who, grabbed her shoulder gently; making her look up to meet a pair of kind, uncertain blue eyes. They seemed to belong to a man in his forties, the colour of his orange hair dampened by age and weariness. Yet his sharp features and slightly muscular body radiated strength.
The man was talking to her; said something about how everything was going to be fine. She wondered idly what his name was, and why he insisted on dragging her thoughts away from the pale skinned, dark eyed and haired man that made up the basics of her new self. This Auror, she guessed, with orange hair and strong yet gentle grip had been one of the five people who'd come and saved her. If saved even was the right word for it, she mused. Somehow she felt as if she'd left something behind, or at least left it where it shouldn't be. An image of Snape's annoyed face flashed before her eyes once again. Right, he couldn't find his book or whatever. A sudden pain shot through her body then, and tears started to well up in her wide, grey eyes. Mouth in a slight 'o' and fists tightly clenched, Tonks barely suppressed a scream. Great, that life-saving Auror of hers had somehow slipped when he'd tried to stand, apparently a bit too willing to give up on getting the young woman's attention. His swift movements didn't agree with the soaked floor and shoes he wore today though, and he ended grabbing onto an abused, daydreaming girl a bit too hard for support. A stream of apologies hit her ears, and she was beginning to make out the clear, deep voice that belonged to the middle aged man. No longer a buzzing noise, but a clear knife stab. The sudden pain had done the trick; she was now officially out of her comfortable, unreal daze.
Fear, pain, loss, confusion and wondering hit her like a train crashing. She gasped and turned to fix a surprised Auror with her intense, yet still distant, gaze. He backed away, but caught himself and shouted out some names before sitting down again and placing his hand on her shoulder once again.
"Miss Tonks, if you are ready now, we'll need to take you away from here to the hospital. By the look of it, you're out of the worst state of your chock. Please listen to me and. Calm. Down. No one is going to hurt you now, okay? We'll take you away from here, and take you to a place where they'll be able to reduce your obvious pain into something more bearable. Does it sound agreeable with you?" he asked smoothly. Tonks only nodded, eager to move. She didn't know why, but here, wherever it was, she didn't want to stay.
"Good, now Gerry take care of her while I inform the others," the man continued as he helped Tonks to stand. A young man with blond hair and brown eyes nodded silently and took over the older man's grip of the girl.
"You know, I'm kinda thirsty," Tonks stated shakily. Severus had been called away from his house around the time when he usually brought her dinner, and soon after a bunch of Aurors had stormed in and taken her away. The reason why she'd been cursing fate the moment Severus' door was kicked in disappeared when she was out of the house, numbly reflecting on the fleeting past and somewhat blessing fate for helping her out. She'd known, through Severus' warning, that Death Eaters could come knocking at the door instead of her glorious rescuing-team. But this time, life had decided to go nice on her. Though now, as her itchy throat and empty stomach reminded her that it would've been nice if fate had waited just a couple of minutes more before striking, she took up on the cursing part.
But oh, well. Who was she to complain?
A/N: yeah very much Tonks in this chappie...don't worry, I'll post the next chapter right away and it's mainly Snape there ;P but dear Lord I'll need to finish this story soon coz yeah the plot thickens a bit too much if I don't X3 and I suck at those really deep stories...I mean hey it's not happening anything in this story really haha omg never mind I've eaten too much candy right now X3 -sugar rush- well, anyway, review:)