Disclaimer: Not mine.
The Uninvited
Chapter 8
Severus sat regaining his composure as the witch sat on the far end of the sofa blushing in embarrassment. She eyed the bottle of Whiskey greedily, and watched as Severus pushed it over to her with his foot.
"Go ahead witch, if you can drink like you can eat then my virtue is safe." He looked at her fighting back his laughter.
She took the bottle half way to her mouth, stopped, reached for a glass and daintily poured the glass half full. Severus thought the act of using the glass was somehow off set by the amount of alcohol she poured into it, but for a change managed to stay his tongue.
"Witch," he said, and then thought better of it. "Miss Bentley… shite, Doris. We need to discuss your memory."
"Yes Professor," she sighed.
"What in the bloody hell was that?"
"You don't remember me at all do you?"
'No, I do not, now please answer my question."
"It was the other place, before I came to be here." She said looking up at him frowning. "Not the same room all the time, but at the beginning until I was twelve or so that is where I stayed. That was my room."
He didn't know how to respond, how to pretend that this did not bother him and to go on with the conversation to gather more information. He saw her uplifted chin and knew that she was working hard at the appearance of strength. Mistaken in his assumption that she had somehow planned and plotted to get as far as she had, he now realized that she was not capable of deceit. She had not run to Hogwarts, she had run away from something not caring where she landed.
He knew she could slip very quickly into a place he could not follow. She was holding onto her reality by a thread that was unraveling quickly. He had felt it in her mind. Her reality was not in the here and now, nor the past, rather somewhere he could never go. Somewhere he had yet to find. She fought to stay in control yet appeared innocent and childish. She fought not to run and managed to appear content to be here now, and happy with her accommodations. He had never felt such unrest, fear of change and desire for it at the same time, as he had felt in her mind.
"Who was that in the corner, the corpse, who was that?" he asked softly.
"I can't speak of her yet. I, I need to bury her in her own place. I cannot." She jumped up turning to look for an escape. She was easy for him to read now.
"Witch," he said, standing and going to her, understanding what he had felt in the memory. "Was that you mother?"
"Yes, but I promised her I would bury her. I did. Someday I will find her, and then she can stop looking," she whispered.
"Witch, you said you'd met me before. I need to see that memory," he said slowly, watching her.
She began pacing as if in thought, walking to stand at the far side of the sofa and seemed to be considering his request. Then turning to pace again she darted out as she neared the door, running at full speed down the corridor.
Severus set after her, he had not seen it coming. There was no indication that she was going to flee. As his feet pounded after hers the thought of being lousy at the spy business came to him. A witch half his size with twice the whiskey in her system had just given him the slip.
He caught sight of her rounding a corner and redoubled his efforts, wand ready for a clear line of fire. He knew that if he could just gain a few yards on her he would have her, As he cleared the next corner, he stopped and watched her open the outside door, step back inside, and then slide to the ground. He walked up behind her and squatted down next to her.
'I have no place to go, do I? I have no one to go to," was all she said as he looked at her solemnly.
"It would not appear so."
"Then I have to… I can't… what am I to do? I can't stay here, and yet I can't go."
"I honestly do not know," he stood and held his hand out to her. "Come. We need to be careful. It would be unseemly to be seen in the halls."
She sighed and took his hand, smiling thinly at him as she hauled herself up. "Sorry about this, but you have to understand. I will go back to the forest and finish what I have to do before I'll go back there. I won't do it, I just won't. Are you just … will you send me back when you know where it is? Is that what you are looking for? Did he, that Dumbledore, did he tell you to?"
"Come," he said again as he turned and walked back to the chambers. "There's something I must do, it may reassure you."
After he had sat her on the sofa, and called the kitchen elf back, thinking a good strong cup of tea may be what they both needed, he pulled up a chair in front of her. Reaching forward he grabbed her hands, pulling her toward to him, resting their foreheads together.
"Witch, you will be the death of me."
He moved to the sofa next to her, and pulled her onto his lap. Holding her tightly as she struggled against him, he flicked his wand putting out the candles, and then flicked at the fire, plunging them into total darkness.
"There witch, now talk, tell me how I know you. Where did we meet? Who are you witch?"
When he was in her mind he had found that she felt safe when in total blackness, as if the absence of light could not only hide her, but also protect her and wrap her up in its silent embrace. It was her home, and her safety. The vision of the dungeon struck fear in him, but only sadness in her, sadness that was her life. As soon as they were plunged into the darkness, he felt her relax into him as her body slumped. He had reasoned that people were most comfortable with what they knew, and if she knew darkness, he would let her hide in it.
"Did you ever wonder how I knew to come here?" she asked softly. "You showed me once long ago. That is the only reason I could apparate here. I had seen it."
"A time ago you went to a birthday party of sorts for a girl, just turning twelve. Do you remember? Many came, all men, he called them all followers. My Grandfather said it was to be my coming out party."
She rested her head on his chest, her body limp against him. He feared what she was about to say. He did not want to return to the memory with her, or to tell her, yes, that at the moment she had said birthday party, he had remembered. That he had not known that she was the child lying on the table. Only a child.
"You stood at the back wall. You held your mask in your hand. You were younger then, you wore a different face, hard but softer somehow, not as sharp as the one you wear now. Anyway, he tied me to the table, and then the dark one, Tom he was called, he… he hurt me first, and told the rest to take turns with me. It hurt so bad, so bad I couldn't scream any more, and then you were there in my mind and you whispered that I could come away with you, that you could make it stop."
She paused and he felt her head lift up as if looking up to his in the dark. One hand sought his face, her finger touching his wet eyes, and she knew then that he remembered.
"You showed me the sea coast, the blue-green waves crashing on the sand and up high on white cliffs. I could hear the gulls. You took me out of the pain, and put me into a meadow in the sun. I had never seen the sun before, not so bright and outdoors. Then when I looked around at the meadow and it bothered my eyes you took me away again. Then, we were over a castle, Hogwarts I know it now, and you showed me the animals in the forest. I thought they were the most beautiful things I had ever seen, so that is where I went."
Severus breathed through parted lips to keep as silent as he could. His hands had fisted her robes as he held her tighter, remembering how he had feigned illness to leave the room after he had sent her back into her body.
"I didn't see you again for a while, maybe a week, maybe a month. I can't measure time. I think I told you that before. You were having dinner with them, with those men. When you were getting ready to leave, you passed chocolate into my pocket." He heard a smile in her voice and closed his eyes against the joy in a piece of chocolate, passed to a girl as he would pass an uneaten scrap to a dog.
"I used to pretend you would find me, that you would come for me. Then you did. It was cold out by then. There was snow on the ground so it must have been a while. It was almost morning before you came into the kitchen. I was in the back, cleaning, when you came to me and spoke inside my head again. You put up a brick wall, and took me by the hand. In my mind I mean, you showed me a wall in my mind. Then you took us behind the wall and told me to keep you there so no-one would know what you had done."
"I keep you there still," she sighed nestling closer in. "And then you put your wand to my forehead and took most of my memories of the pain, the night with all the men. I mean, it is still there, only it is in a fog. I can remember it, like now. But, it doesn't come unbidden anymore. You built another wall, and told me I could put the rest of what I needed to remember there to deaden it. You took almost all of it away. The things I have hidden since then only come sometimes when I catch a smell or hear a sound. I guess it doesn't work so well. I'm not really good at it."
They sat in silence for a long time, until she had fallen asleep and he could no longer stay awake. He pulled her close to him, smelling her hair and feeling her through his robes. He then lay down on his side, holding her to him, and they slept wrapped up in each other on the sofa.
He woke long before she did, lifting up his head, and feeling around until he found his wand. Lighting the candles and restarting her fireplace, he set to the task of untangling himself without waking her. At last, he was able to stand by the sofa and look down at her.
He remembered her, how could he have forgotten, he had always remembered. He remembered the birthday party, as she called it. He cursed his failure to recognize her, but she had been heavily made-up, cheapened, and dressed for a part. He remembered straightened hair, not the curls that rushed for dominance on her shoulders. He remembered blood red lips, not the softness of the lush dark pink he found there now. He remembered her cheeks had been heavily rouged, not the soft pale flesh he had held in his hand. He had seen her as they had wanted him to see her, not for who and what she was.
Pulling out his pocket watch he saw that it was after 4:00 am. He knew that Albus would be arriving in his office shortly and considered going at once. Looking down at the witch again, he sighed, scooped her up and walked with her to her bedroom. He laid her the middle of the bed bringing up the sides of the quilt to wrap her cocoon style. Finally, he placed a kiss to her forehead and headed for a shower, before setting off to see Dumbledore.