(A/N: First and foremost, a heartfelt apology for this late update. I have received a few people asking if I have abandoned this story, and no I have not, merely it has been an unbearably difficult month and a half and as such my writing has suffered. I do hope you will all forgive me. But here is the next chapter and I hope you all enjoy it! I love reviews! They really do get me writing and get me out of my funk. Thank you to all those who sent messages and reviews! As for Snape getting angry...well, just wait. WonderWhiteRabbit hopping off)
In the Head of the Snake
Chapter 26: Awakening
Ginny blinked her eyes. A dull glow was lighting up the room and she could hear deep breathing to her left. She rolled over and stared at the sleeping form of Professor Snape, his head nodding on his chest as he slept in his armchair. Ginny was shocked for merely two seconds before she could react. With a beating heart, she pulled the sheet from her sweating body and carefully climbed out of the bed. She had almost made it passed Snape when he stirred. She stopped immediately, her body frozen to the spot in fear, and waited. She didn't even turn to see if he was awake. She knew he was. She could feel it. She knew now what had happened that one night when she had kissed the passed out Severus Snape; in his sleep, his defences were so high up that even her weird powers were not enough to draw them out. He was dead to the world – completely encased by his own mind. But at the same time, aware of everything. It was an amazing state that Ginny thought she would never be able to perfect as well as Severus Snape the Spy.
"Eyrie," said Snape, his voice husky from sleep, but clear and sure.
There was a pop, and Eyrie arrived.
"First time Master lets Eyrie see private room!" squealed Eyrie, her large eyes roaming the room, probably seeing more than one chore awaiting her eager hands.
"Yes, yes, it's all very exciting. But before you begin your intolerable cleaning exhibition of my entire quarters, could you please bring me and Miss Weasley breakfast?"
"Yes Potions Master!" and Eyrie popped back out of existence.
Ginny finally turned and faced her Potions Professor with a gulp.
"You let her into your Secret Room?" she asked pointlessly.
"Not much of a secret any more, now is it?" sneered Snape.
"I won't tell anyone about it! I swear I won't!"
"I am not worried about you telling anyone."
Ginny's eyes opened in fear.
"You're not going to...to obliviate me are you?" she asked hurriedly.
He merely arched an eyebrow in amusement and said, "Take a seat please, Miss Weasley.
Ginny carefully lowered herself into the twin armchair opposite Snape.
"You are up early. I expected you to sleep for longer."
"I'm sorry I slept here at all," mumbled Ginny.
"I'm sure you are. I hope you have realised the boundaries you have stepped over and the trust you have lost."
Ginny's eyes opened.
"I've...I've lost your trust?"
"You tell me? I leave Hogwarts for merely a weekend – and only a portion of that weekend at that – and already you are on the brink of losing your house every single gem it has had the unfortunate privilege of earning this year."
"Please don't do that!" Ginny launched forwards and found herself on her knees before her potions master. He stared at her on the ground, pleading with him and a look of utter revulsion graced his features for barely a second before his face went blank once more.
"Get up you silly girl," he growled and simultaneously stood while he hoisted her up with a clawed hand.
Ginny didn't know if he meant to do it so roughly, but her whole body was shaking from the contact. Snape may have hidden his anger from his face, but it still showed through his actions.
"I'm sorry," she blurted. "I'll never come here again! I'll drop potions even!"
"The more you speak the worse it gets," sighed Snape. "Just sit down," he pushed her back into the armchair once more, "and keep quiet."
She leant back into the chair and let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Her shoulder still beat from where Snape had gripped her and she gingerly raised a hand to rub it.
"That hurt," she stated.
Snape gave a frustrated sigh and fell into his chair with a wave of black cloak.
"I give you one instruction and you cannot even follow that."
"You gave me two instructions – sit down and keep quiet. I chose to follow the first."
"You were forced to follow the first. I could easily enable the same for the second," and he drew out his wand from his sleeve, a menacing gleam in his eyes.
The effect was a little lessened though when a small pop announced Eyrie with breakfast.
"Here Master! Favourite breakfast for both Master and Missy!"
"Thank you Eyrie. Place it on the table please and be off with you. You can clean here when I am gone, but do not touch anything – just clean."
"Yes Master, Sir!" said Eyrie, her spirits not in the least dashed as she placed a tray on the table between the twin chairs and popped away.
Snape looked tiredly down at the tray.
"Your favourite breakfast is waffles? How unoriginal for a teenager," he asked of Miss Weasley who was glowering in his direction.
"And your favourite breakfast is toast. How boring for a –"
" – If you value your life you will not complete that sentence!" interrupted Snape.
"Yes Sir," mumbled Ginny.
"And it's French toast. With syrup."
"I thought the syrup was for me..."
The both looked to the glass bowl and spoon holding the golden liquid. Simultaneously they reached for it. Simultaneously they stopped. Snape looked to Ginny and Ginny looked to Snape. A smile was creeping its way along Ginny's face, whereas Snape had changed his face to its most malicious sneer.
"You first, Sir," said Ginny and leaned back to admit defeat.
Growling slightly, Snape took the bowl and applied his syrup in a very precise motion. Ginny smirked.
"Something funny, Miss Weasley?" snapped Snape.
"No," Ginny hurriedly said. "Only, could I have the syrup now please Sir?"
Snape handed over the syrup bowl and Ginny turned it upside down, completely soaking her waffle in syrup.
"Have a bit of waffle with your syrup?" Snape said under his breath.
"I will, thank you," smiled Ginny as she put the now empty syrup bowl back down on the table.
Snape took his plate and placed it on his lap, whereas Ginny sat down on the ground at the coffee table and began to eat her waffle with her hands.
"You will need a bucket of cleansing charms when you are done with that," pointed out Snape as they were eating.
"The point of food is to enjoy it," stated Ginny, "and I was raised with a hoard of hungry mammals as role models so you can't expect me to eat like the queen."
"Like a human being would be a good improvement."
Ginny gave an exasperated sigh but didn't say anything. She merely finished her waffle.
"Thank you for breakfast, Sir," she said. "May I go now?"
"No," stated Snape simply.
Keeping down her anger, Ginny asked, "Then when can I go, Sir?"
"When I say you can go."
"Sir, it's a Sunday morning!"
"Yes, and students will right now be getting out of bed and, in hoards, be making their way to the Great Hall. The chances of you being seen leaving my quarters will be doubled if not tripled, and I do not know about your reputation, but I would like mine to stay reasonably clean."
"What do you mean 'I do not know about your reputation'? What do you think my reputation is? If you're implying that I have a bad reputation with men, then you should know better than to bring up this subject!"
"I was not implying that you have a bad reputation with men. I was implying that you have a bad reputation with boys."
Ginny jumped to her feet and pointed her finger at Snape accusingly.
"You're one of those boys I have a reputation with then!" she snapped. "Remember? I kissed you!"
There was a beat of silence. Then another.
"I would prefer it," said Snape smoothly, "if you did not point at me with dirty hands. I assume you know where the bathroom is. Go and shower. I will have Eyrie bring fresh clothes for you."
Ginny fumed and stomped her way to the bathroom. Snape just heard her mumble, "less emotions than a statue that one!" before she passed through the green beads of the bathroom entrance.
Snape relaxed and called Eyrie.
"Yes, Sir?" asked Eyrie expectantly.
"Will you bring up fresh clothes for Miss Weasley from her trunk in the Gryffindor tower?"
"Yes, Sir!" squeaked Eyrie and turned to leave.
"Oh, and Eyrie," said Snape before Eyrie could pop away, "bring more syrup."
. . .
Ginny was hesitant at first. She put the water on and then carefully stripped her body of her sweat-stained garments. She wasn't too sure where to put them, but then shrugged and left them in a heap on the floor. Then she daintily stepped her way into the shower, the nozzles spraying water from two sides. She could almost relax now, with the water pounding on her bare skin, almost so hot that it scalded her. She could almost forget where she was. Who she was. All that had happened to her. Almost.
But not quite. Her tense muscles did not relax completely. Her mind could not switch off completely. Her heart could not stop its galloping beats completely. Almost, but not completely.
That was like everything, she reflected. She was good at certain things, but not completely. She was getting to know Harry, but not completely. She was starting to trust Severus Snape...but not completely. And that was why she was still tense as she stood under the pelting water, the thing that usually made everything wash away.
But there were more important things to think about right now. Yes, Severus Snape was a part of those things, but not the main part. The main part was in her head. She had always known, but never remembered. It had been in her this whole time, and now an unlikely event had brought it forth. Memories. The word was wrong for Ginny. Truth... Yes, that was more like it. She had discovered the truth. The secret had been revealed to her. She remembered. She remembered! Oh Gods, she remembered!
The night's dream – no, nightmare – now came thumping through her brain. She forced herself to remember it, relive it, again. And then again. Soon she was saying words and sentences that she had never remembered but always known; It was you! It was always you! And then her resolve took over. She remembered his eyes. She would not forget them. It's not too late for me! I will come back from you! I will heal! I will get better! You can't keep control of me forever!
She thought she heard a ghost of a laugh echoing through the water pipes.
Was she wrong?
Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever
No, he had been wrong. It was not her skeleton lost to her, it was her heart.
She gripped at her skin, feeling her beating heart underneath her clutching hand and a sob pushed its way through her throat. She could feel her heart beat harder as more sobs forced themselves onto her. She didn't cry. She didn't cry. She didn't cry! But then why was she crying now? Those weren't tears; they were just the water from the shower. No, those were definitely tears.
Her knees gave way. She landed hard on the shower floor, but the pain was foreign to her. She was nothing any more. She had been a hollow shell and she had been left a hollow shell. She was nothing. Nothing.
Wrong again: she was not nothing. She had been filled with something. With words. And thoughts. And lies. And they were all his.
Damn you Tom Riddle. And your secrets. I want nothing to do with them!
She gripped her head in her hands and pushed at her temples, willing the force to push out that which was not hers. That which was his. That which was wrong. But all she succeeded in doing was make her head throb.
"Aaargh!" she screamed out, in frustration and anger, and in utter humiliation. She was useless. She knew that now.
A silly little girl, something in her said.
But our silly little girl, something else said.
Silly little girl silly little girl silly little girl silly little girl
The words rung in her head over and over, voices drifting over others. That was her mother saying it. That was Percy. That was Fred and George in their twin-speak way. That was Tom Riddle. That was Ron. That was Snape. That was her. She had said it. Admitted it. And then grown from it.
She squeezed her eyes tight and the voices drifted off.
"Silly little girl," she said aloud. "Silly little girl," she repeated. Yes, she was nothing more than a silly little girl. And she didn't like that one bit. So the only thing she could do was change it. She could change it, that she knew. And she needed the man waiting for her outside. She knew the secret now. Why she fell; love. And what was Severus Snape but a man lacking love? If he could live like that, then surely she could too! He could teach her, she knew. She could grow out of this thing she had for Harry. This thing that had been planted in her head by Tom Riddle. Lies. All of it. Including what she felt for Harry. And Tom. That was the only way out now. And Severus Snape could help her.
She stood, washed herself down quickly, and then switched the water off. She stayed there for a few seconds, listening to the water dripping off her body in soft pluk-pluk-pluk sounds. It would all wash away soon enough. All of it. Severus Snape would make sure of that.
With eyes wide open, she stepped out of the shower.
. . .
Snape had a book open on his lap as he waited for the girl to finish washing off. He needed to know what she had dreamt of, but there was only one way for him to find out. No, there was another. He could always ask her. As if that would help. She had stormed off to the bathroom in a huff and if he knew Ginny Weasley, her anger would only have doubled. To be honest, the extra syrup that Eyrie had brought him had done little to sweeten his own mood.
But when Ginny Weasley stepped out of the bathroom with nothing but a white towel around her, her anger was gone. All that was left was a small frown line of determination creasing her brow.
"You seem to have forgotten something, Miss Weasley," Snape pointed out, averting his eyes. He reached for his wand; he would not have another shock like the first time she had boldly stepped up to him and kissed him. He would stop any of that nonsense before it happened.
"I think it's Eyrie who forgot, Sir. There were no clothes for me to wear."
Snape scowled. Typical elf! She had probably forgotten all about Miss Weasley's clothes in her excitement of the opportunity to clean his room.
"You could have scourgified your previous clothes," he stated.
"I could have," agreed Ginny, but she took a step forward.
Snape hurriedly stood up.
"Miss Weasley, not this again," he said in his harshest teacher tone.
She pouted.
"What do you think I'm going to do, precisely, Professor Snape?" she asked of him.
"Honestly, I have no idea. But whatever it is, I know I will not enjoy it. Accio robe!" his cupboard door flew open and a thick black robe made its way quickly to his hands. "Here," he thrust the robe forwards and averted his eyes. He heard her bare feet softly pad towards him and felt the weight of the robe lift from his outstretched hand. He heard the towel drop and had to stare hard at the wall. He felt a bead of sweat make its way down his back. Damn this bloody woman for making life so difficult! But his face was stone, cold as ever.
"How do you do it, Sir?" asked Ginny.
"Not look at you? Very easily, trust me Miss Weasley."
She scoffed, whether in disbelief or in disgust he could not tell.
"Well you can look now. I'm all covered up. Nothing nasty for your eyes to see. Except for the mirror but I don't want seven years of bad luck."
"Superstitious nonsense," said Snape as he turned, not missing the jibe but ignoring it.
"Breaking a mirror is seven years of bad luck!" insisted Ginny Weasley. She was sitting back in the twin armchair, her whole body engulfed by his fluffy robe. She had to roll up the sleeves for her hands to poke out the ends. She looked a little like a cat curled up in a warm winter blanket...and she had that same look on her face that a cat would have after lapping up warm cream.
"What are you so smug about?" he snapped, not liking the look on her face at all.
"You got angry," she pointed out.
"I'm always angry," he retorted.
"Well then, you got even more angry. When I mentioned that I kissed you. You got really angry."
"It's not something you should bring up!" he could feel a flush working its way up his neck. His skin was probably blotchy with rage and embarrassment.
"Why does it make you so angry?" she asked, her tone soft. "You don't care for things like love and lust, right? You don't care. Full-stop. So why does this make you so angry?"
He let a stiff breath leave through his nostrils. Long and slow he let the breath out. He felt calmer as he replied, "The fact that no one would believe me. That Miss Ginny Weasley, pure Gryffindor, Muggle lover, and Potions Master despiser, would kiss the very person who embodies all her hates. A slytherin, pure-blood enthusiast, and...Potions Master. No one would believe me. And that makes me angry. Because, Miss Weasley, believe me when I say I tell no lies. I tell only truth."
"Because then when you lie everyone believes you..." she whispered.
"No!" he snapped. "Even when I tell the truth they do not believe me! I cannot afford to tell lies! There are others who whisper their way into ears, and those little birds would be perfectly happy to let me fall so that they could take my place. I cannot lie. Therefore I do not lie."
"Then tell me the truth! Why does it embarrass you? Is it because you feel something for me? Anything at all?" her shouts were hysterical. Snape didn't know what had come over her. It had to be something she had dreamed of last night. She must have remembered something. Merlin! He and Dumbledore had been talking about it while she was sleeping! The Chamber of Secrets. Had she remembered?
"Answer me!" she stood, puffing in her anger, her eyes slits of suspicion.
"I feel nothing for you but that of a teacher to a student," he said, his face cold and emotionless. But his head was yelling at him liar liar liar liar liar! To calm his mind, he added, "That includes the due care and consideration a teacher shows to his or her students, the respect they have earned, and the trust that they are worthy of."
"No more than that?" she did not sound disappointed. "After all that I've done to you. With you...You feel nothing more for me than a student is due?"
"Precisely," he whispered. Why was she smiling so? Why was she happy to hear this?
Because she never liked you, you fool, a voice, small and cold said to him. She was only ever after what you could do for her. How you could help her. The voice grew in volume and clarity. She never cared, you idiot! When you left her on those steps, telling her to wait for you to return from your mission, did you honestly expect her to wait for you? You should have taken the empty words instead – the ones you stopped her from saying. They would have held more meaning to them.
"Teach me!" she announced suddenly. "Teach me to be cold! Like you! Unfeeling. Unloving. I want to know. Teach me!"
He could not help it, the rage had built itself to a tumult in his mind, and at her words it spilled over. He yelled and upturned the table between them. Two strides and he stood over her, pinning her onto the twin chair between his long arms. His head was inches from hers.
"Unfeeling..." he whispered – he did not trust himself to speak in fear of roaring instead. "Unloving," he spat. "How easy it is to be that when you are me! How easy it is to not feel when no one feels for you, how easy it is to not love when no one loves you! There is your answer, Miss Weasley! Plain and clear. Let everyone hate you! Let everyone who cares disappear! And your problem is solved!"
Ginny Weasley was shaking beneath him, her eyes wide in surprise.
"I'm – I'm" but whatever she was, she could not get out. She bit her lip hard. He could see that she had done that before, many a time, because there was a dark pink line across the lighter pink of her lips where she had drawn blood before. She saw him looking at her lips and her shaking grew stronger. He scoffed.
"Don't fear for yourself Miss Weasley," he traced a warm thumb over her lip, pulling it out of her teeth's embrace. "I'm the last person who would hurt you."
He stood, looking over her with his black eyes.
"I'm wrong," she said eventually, looking away from him. "I thought you could help me, but you obviously can't."
"Why do you want to be unfeeling? Unloving?" he asked of her.
She could not answer. Her previous argument seemed so frail now. So stupid.
"Wake up, Miss Weasley. You are feeling. You are loving. Do not turn into something you are not. You want to run away again? Feel free. Go run back to the woods and get yourself more lost than you are now. By ignoring everything else, you will only hurt yourself more. I once told you not to turn into me. I say it again now: do not turn into what I am. And if you think that I will help you do the very thing I ask you not to...then you obviously are not as bright as I had suspected."
"I thought you said you never lied..." she whispered. "You never thought I was bright. You only used me because I'm an experiment to you. Well, you don't have to go searching any further for your answers. I remembered it. I remembered all of it. I remembered the Chamber of Secrets. Just ask, and I'll tell you everything. How Riddle wrote his lies into me. How my heart is as black as ink. How his words still taint my mind. I know now. I know it all."
There was a beat of silence while Snape stared into her eyes, almost bore into them with his intensity.
"No," he said slowly. "You don't know it all. You remember only the black. But there was something else...and when you wake up from this silly little self-pity-party, we will try and find out what."
"I'm awake!" she said angrily. "My eyes are wide open. I can see everything!"
"Really?" asked Snape, and he knew that the tone of his voice made her hesitate, made her wonder.
"I can see... some things..." she admitted.
"At least you can admit that much," he sighed in frustration, his hand rubbing at his temples.
"I can see I was wrong about you..." she stood from the chair. She was inches from his body. She saw him grow still, his jaw clenching. "You do feel." And she raised herself on tiptoes and gave him a soft kiss, her lips barely touching his. "Sorry."
"For which part?" he asked stiffly.
"This part," and she kissed him again. His lips were drawn thin and hard. She could feel his jaw clenching as his teeth bit down on each other. But she could also hear the intake of breath. Feel the pulse run under his skin. See the flush drift up his neck. Severus Snape was immune to many things, but this...this he was not...she would have her way...
His hand rose, to push her away. But as before, that unnameable power of hers was over him. Inside him something reacted. He felt a burning rise up through his stomach. A warmth that spread towards his chest. And down his arms to tingle in his hands. His hand touched her arm and the warmth sparked. He felt Ginny's surprise, as vivid as his own. His eyes wide open, he saw that he was giving off a red glow, as was Ginny. And the glow was warm and comforting, but too much. The power was much too much! He pulled away from her, stepping back a few steps for surety, his hand tingling where it had touched her, his mouth red from the kiss. He wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, staring, utterly unbelieving, at Ginny Weasley before him. The glow had stopped.
She was the first to speak.
"That...that's never happened before..." she said.
"No," he agreed.
"Do you think it...would it happen again?" she asked hesitantly, but he could see the eager gleam in her eyes.
"It might happen again. But we won't let it. That was no ordinary power..."
"We won't?" she was actually disappointed, he could see the fall in her eyes. "What power was it?"
What power indeed. Severus had an idea...but Dumbledore had said that the Love Cavern would have very little effect on him. Then again, Dumbledore had been wrong before. Looks like he was wrong again. Whatever the Love Cavern had done to him, it was now reacting with Miss Weasley – with whatever the Chamber of Secrets had done to her. He had to go down there, he was certain of it now. But he did not know how to open the chamber...Parseltongue was not something written down for normal people to learn. His eyes rested on Ginny Weasley. She said she remembered. Did she remember how to get into the chamber?
"You have that look in your eyes again," she stated, drawing him from his thoughts.
"What look?" he snapped.
"That 'I have a brilliant mastermind plan' look that you always get when you think you're being smarter than everyone else," she spat angrily. Why was she angry? Snape honestly could not keep up with her mood swings.
"I have an idea, if that's what you're referring to," he drawled.
"And I have homework to do," she snapped. "So if you have anything else you'd like of me, hurry it up. I want to go."
"As if I'm the one who keeps on kissing you!" he snapped back.
"As if you would ever make the first move!"
"This is not a game of chess! You are a student! I am a teacher! If anyone were to find out about this little ruse you are running, it could mean the end of my career! Who would believe that you forced yourself onto me?" Merlin she could make him angry!
"This isn't a ruse, old man!"
"Old man? At least you know what it is you are kissing!"
"That's not what I – Gods what is wrong with you? Can't you see? Whatever it is between us, it's not normal! And not because of our age difference! And all you want to do is ignore it – use it as another experiment!"
"Between us?" he spluttered. "There is nothing between us! We would be having a perfectly normal love-hate relationship that teachers and students have. You hating me and me loving every second hating right back!"
"Well I'm glad we got that sorted!" she was puffing in her anger.
He fell into his chair, utterly tired. First she keeps him up the whole night after taking that stupid dreamful sleep potion, then she ruins his breakfast, and now he couldn't even get rid of her in peace!
"What will you have of me, Miss Weasley?" he said, his voice, for once, lacking its snappish tone. She seemed taken aback by his suddenly tired facade, or maybe it was by the question. Either way, she stumbled forwards, his fluffy robe about her making it difficult for her to walk forwards in the smooth manner that he was accustomed to seeing.
"I just want answers," she said when she stood before him.
"How will you get these answers?" he asked of her.
"Through you," she said unashamedly.
"So you will take them? And what of me?"
"What will you have of me, Professor Snape?" she gave his question back to him.
He smirked.
"I have theories. They need answers too."
"And how will you get these answers?" she asked.
"Through you..." he whispered in that secretive way of his. She had to lean forwards to hear him say it. She was so close. Her hair was wet from her shower. Her skin pale in the dim light of his room. All of it could be a secret...
She stayed there for a beat. For another. Their eyes locked on one another. Neither moved. One more beat. Ginny sighed and moved backwards.
In that instant, there was a pop and Eyrie appeared.
"So so sorry, Miss!" she squeaked. "Clothes for Miss! Forgot, but not too late!" she held out robes to Ginny who took them with thanks. "Will clean as soon as Master is gone!" said Eyrie and then popped out of existence once more.
"I'll just...yeah..." and Ginny walked to the bathroom to get changed.
Snape let out a long breath. What was he thinking? He wasn't...again...
Maybe it wasn't Miss Weasley who had to wake up. Maybe it was him.
(A/N: There! And I hope the next chapter does not take so long to get up, but I'm sure it won't. I'm on holiday now, and in the middle of South Africa where I have to perch on a stool out in the grass to get signal, but that doesn't stop me from writing so I'm sure the outside life will inspire me (yadayadayada etc), but what inspires me even more is word from you all! I would love to hear your thoughts! WonderWhiteRabbit hopping off)