Typical Disclaimers Apply
A/N: Today, Esme has the sheer joy of meeting the portraits!
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The sun was rising over the castle, but Esme was still asleep. Snape knew he needed to do something other than watch her, but he felt that if he left, she'd die. There had been times in the night when her breathing had been harsh and labored, but Madam Pomfrey had told him there was nothing he could do. If she died in her sleep, she died in her sleep. That was that.
"Severus," Dumbledore had remained silent until now, "you need to go to breakfast."
"Why bother?" he muttered. "I haven't gone in weeks; they'll be fine without me."
"There have been rumors," he whispered. "Students saw the bloodstains on the floor. They think she's dead. They think you've killed her. You must put in an appearance for them." Snape sighed, protesting would be useless.
"What about Esme?"
"We can watch her," Harriet said kindly. "If anything happens, we'll notify Poppy."
Snape quickly changed into a clean set of robes, took one last look at Esme, and went to the Great Hall. When he got there, it was clear news had spread faster than he'd hoped. He caught a few quick whispers from the students eating breakfast.
"…all these drips leading to his office…"
"…bet it was a student. He's cruel enough…"
"…heard it was a teacher…"
"…guess that's what Hagrid gets for his little party!"
"I heard it was Esme Black!" one outspoken Hufflepuff fifth year shrieked, drawing the attention of almost all the room. The whispers began again.
"Is it true?" McGonagall barely whispered. The teacup in her hands was shaking like mad and her face had gone very, very white.
"Yes," Snape scarcely breathed. He looked down and noticed his hands were shaking too.
"No," she whispered. "No, Severus. No."
"I'll be in my quarters, Minerva," he muttered, throwing down his napkin uselessly.
--
Meanwhile, in Esme-land…
Esme stared at the ground. Large planks of wood and concrete littered the earth around her, as if she were standing in the remnants of a bombed village, but everything was blurred around the edges. She looked around, not sure of what to do, where to go. There was a sheep to her left, but it probably wouldn't let her ride it.
"Hey!" She nearly jumped a foot in the air when a voice piped up from behind her. She turned sharply to see a thin, blonde girl of about fifteen with a smatter of freckles over her nose standing behind her.
"What the hell do you want?"
"Aren't you going?" The girl asked impatiently, as if Esme was the stupidest person she'd ever met.
Esme rolled her eyes, "Going where?"
"Duh," the girl laughed. "Going home!"
"Oh," Esme shrugged, confused, "I guess so."
"C'mon!" The younger girl led them through the rubble, stepping over the broken glass with ease. After walking for several meters, they hit a dirt path. "It's not far now." She took Esme's hand and they began to sprint down the trail. The girl skidded to a fault just after they'd turned a sharp corner. She was eyeing a figure in the distance.
The figure approached. It was a young woman, about Esme's age. She had flaming red hair and piercing green eyes that flitted over Esme and focused in on the girl. "What are you doing?"
"We're going home!"
"Don't you think you've forgotten something?" Her question stilled the air around Esme. Did I forget something? I didn't see any bags or anything…
"She hasn't forgotten anything. We're going home," the girl snapped, but the red-haired woman blocked their path. "Go away!"
"You've forgotten something," she repeated. Then she pointed into the distance behind Esme, "Look!" A silver tiger prowled in the distance, not getting to close to the three women. In his mouth he dangled a tiny diamond necklace. The sheep was strangely gone.
Esme's hand flew to her throat, "My necklace! It's really expensive!" She went forward to grab the heart. The moment she grasped the chain, the ground seemed to fall out from under her, giving way to a totally different world. She closed her eyes as she felt her body fall.
Once the world stopped shaking, Esme opened her eyes and looked about. Instead of being in the village, she was sitting on the cold stone floor of the castle. Everything was sharp, instead of the blurred lines she'd seen before.
"Alecto did quite a number on you, didn't she?" a man said, sounding very close. Esme pulled herself up and walked onto a stone balcony, following the sound of his voice. In front of her was a man with long, silver hair. To his left was a tap-dancing house-elf. Huh.
"Professor Dumbledore?" she asked curiously. He was standing at the edge of the balcony, holding loosely onto the railings. She walked over to him. "What're you doing here?"
"Standing."
"What I mean is, why aren't you dead?"
"I am."
"Oh." She paused, "Am I dead?"
"No," he said placidly. "But it is your choice to wake up."
"My…choice?" He looked over at her, his blue eyes smiling.
"Yes, your choice." He turned away, "You'll soon find out that you have many great choices facing you. And you had better choose quickly, lest someone else make a choice for you." He looked out over the forest. "Or fate. I suppose fate may make some choices for you." Esme stared at him.
"What do you mean by 'choices'? Like choosing not to wake up?"
"Yes. That is exactly what I said. Listen when I talk." he turned around and gave her a full smile. "You have every right to choose to stay in your dreams forever. But I already know what you will choose for that," he added. Esme looked at him quizzically, but he didn't seem to want to elaborate. "A more important choice would be choosing whether or not to forgive Severus. Or maybe you could choose to get that damned elf to stop dancing."
"What? I don't understand!" she protested. "Why would I forgive him?"
"He saved your life," he said simply.
"Well yeah, what was he going to do—let me die?"
"There are no obligations, Esmeralda."
"He killed you!" Dumbledore turned and stared at her, long and cold. She gripped the railing, but it broke beneath her. She was falling, deep, into the forest below…
She hit the earth floor hard. Her leg was throbbing, that much she knew. Someone was sitting with her, apologizing. She wanted to tell them it would be alright, but the rain stopped her.
--
Esme awoke with icy water dripping down her forehead. She tried to wipe it away, but her arm wouldn't move. She forced herself to sit up, "Aggh!" Why the hell had that hurt so much? It was like her skin was ripping apart.
"Lie down," a voice said calmly. She looked up to meet the eyes of Severus Snape. She lowered herself back onto the pillows and he rested the cloth on her head again. She stared at him; his hair was lank and hung in curtains around his face. Shadows were under his eyes, and under his unbuttoned robes he wore a black muggle shirt and trousers. In short, he looked about as good as she felt, but still he smiled. "Thank God you're awake. You were running a fever, Pomfrey said—well, never mind what she said. There's so much you need to know. But first," he got up and picked up a small glass on his desk, "you need to drink this."
She accepted the drink and gently raised it to her lips. Then her eyes narrowed and she dropped the goblet on the floor. "You must think I'm pretty stupid," she laughed hoarsely.
"What?"
"Don't play all innocent with me, 'sir.' You found me. You caught me. You did something to me that makes me ache all over. That still doesn't mean I'm going to let you let me poison myself."
He stared at her in disbelief. "Esme, do you have any memory of anything that happened yesterday?"
She paused for a moment, thinking. "Well, no, but that doesn't make me wrong!"
"No," Snape said, chuckling. "I suppose that's true." His expression darkened a little, "Esme, you were attacked yesterday. I heard most of this from Ginny, but supposedly you had a fight with Sirius and—"
"No!" she rasped. "I don't believe you! Sirius wouldn't hurt me, and why would Ginny come to you?"
"Sirius didn't hurt you," he said kindly. "Ginny said it was Alecto. She was on hall patrol last night…"
She glared at him, "Why should I trust you?"
"Why shouldn't you?" Even as he said this, he could hear Lily muttering, "She's going to have a field day with this one."
"You killed Dumbledore!"
"Esmeralda," she whipped her head around at the sound of Dumbledore's voice. "Treat your new headmaster with the same respect as you treated me."
"But sir—"
"Insolence!" crowed an old man to her right. "How dare she contradict her headmaster!"
"I think she has every right to speak her mind!" a dark-haired witch bearing great resemblance to McGonagall snapped.
"A woman never has the right to speak her mind," the man said airily.
"Fausto," a blonde witch (who we already know as Drusilla) said icily. "If you become any more pompous, I shall take you from your frame and feed you to the dragon on the fourth floor."
"What?" At least a dozen of the portraits inquired. Esme turned back to Snape.
"You deal with them every day?"
"Yes."
"So much is explained now," she laughed hoarsely. Snape laughed along with her. It felt good to smile again.
"But seriously Esme, drink this," he handed her the repaired goblet with another swill of potion in it.
"No," she growled. "I don't trust you."
"Why not?" he asked again. "Other than because I killed Dumbledore."
"Gee, let me think," she began sarcastically. "You're a Death Eater. You've probably killed people. You betrayed the trust of the entire school. You're the reason my brother is risking his life. You're the reason my parents can't work. You're the reason my brother's wedding was massacred!" she was nearly yelling now, her voice crackling under the strain. "It's because of you, Snape, that people all over the country are being killed! You—"
"Esme, stop!" he shouted. "I can explain all of this, just please give me a chance!"
"A chance," she scoffed. "You didn't give Dumbledore a chance. You didn't give Harry, Ron, and Hermione a chance. And you sure as hell didn't give me a chance when you attacked me last Christmas!"
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A/N: Shorter than usual, I know. Please still review, I hope the next few chapters are going to be better.
