BitterSweet, Chapter 25.
Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling therefore do not own any of the characters, etc.
Severus Snape's POV:
"How has she been, Mercury?" I ask as I dump the potions onto a table and begin to organize them. The spare room which I use to prepare the potions, like the rest of the house, is dead and cold, yet clammy. The air feels saturated and heavy but the chill is bone-freezing. With the room sheathed in black furnishings, the walls hidden by the dead of night, the room seems to be of an infinite space; endless blackness, save for the bubble of light around me thanks to the candle held by Mercury.
"She is not well, sir. Her breathing is better, but she can't move."
I nod in acknowledgement, gathering the prescribed potions for tonight. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I had hoped to see more of an improvement; I've been working so hard for so long, and it makes me feel as though my efforts are fruitless. But I can't give up now. With a heavy sigh and a potion bottle in hand, I enter the room.
In the middle of a double bed lies Grandma who is weighed down by large quilts. The room is large and sparse, filled only with a bedside table, a chair for me and a vanity. Unlike the previous room, this room is filled with the light of a lamp at her bedside which delivers a healthy, inspiring glow to all it touches, except for Grandma for whom it only outlines the many dark lines on her face.
"I was wondering when you were going to get here." Grandma remarks dryly as I enter the room. Her health obviously hasn't affected her wit - though Merlin forbid if I ever thought it to!
"Amazingly, I have a lot to do in one day. But rest assured, majority of my time is spent on you." I reassure as I sit on the side of the bed. I hate the idea that she doesn't think I'm trying, and I suppose for the little time I'm here and the small progress she has made, she'd have reason to be suspicious. Upon looking at her, she looks even frailer then the day I first met her; a day which already seems a lifetime ago. "How are you feeling?" I ask softly as I uncork the phial, the memories hard to keep at bay. She lets out a long, albeit shaky sigh.
"I'm fine." She replies.
"You're a poor liar." I retort.
"Perhaps you're just a good reader." She proposes. Without remarking back - I gently ease my hand behind her head - trying not to notice the thin whispy hair sticking to my hand due to the condensation, and gently lift her head.
"This is a cell supporting potion." I explain as I empty the contents down her throat. My arm, despite her frail weight, shakes and burns at the pressure. I gently place her head back down, refusing to think of anything else but her recovery; she could be such an important part of my life, as well as the war. If – Merlin forbid – Lily were ever to desert me, at least one person's love existed.
But as I walk out of the room to prepare the next potion, an odd pile in the corner catches my eye. I had not noticed it on previous visits. Empty flask in hand, I walk over to the pile to see an array of smashed potion flasks. "Can Mercury not clean up?" I question aloud as I bend down to look at the smashed glass. There's a light sheet of dust on the shards hinting that it had been here during my previous visits, I'd just failed to notice. Upon hearing no answer, I summon Mercury.
"Yes, Master?" He greets. I turn to look at the small elf.
"Why is there shattered glass everywhere? Did you not think to save and recycle the past flasks?" I ask, annoyed at the sheer lack of care and ignorance. Mercury's eyes grow wide and he begins shaking his head furiously. What is the stupid thing doing?
"Here's an easier question for you: Did you smash the flasks?" He nods affirmative slowly. "Then tell me why you would unnecessarily break property unless you were told to –" I stop mid-sentence and look above Mercury to see the still form of Grandma. As the elf continues to furiously shake his head, the connection steadily forms, crushing me in its entirety.
"How could you!" I yell, striding up to the bed to look at the once admired figure of Grandma. She doesn't answer. In anger, I whisper Legilimens, ignoring the various memories screaming for release by guiding myself to what I wanted to see. Grandma's Occlumency kicks in a moment too late; I am already watching Mercury enter with my prescribed potions, and at Grandma's order, willed to smash them, substance and all, only to clean the potions off the shattered glass later.
"Why?" I whisper, anger and hurt disenabling my voice.
"How dare you invade my personal space!" She spits back with unexpected energy.
"How dare I? It is not my fault that your walls are weak! How dare you betray me like this!" I shout. In another time, I may have felt guilty for invading an invalid, but such a thought seems impossible at the moment, for all I can think of is that all of that time, effort and stress were for nothing.
"I'm helping you." She retorts.
"Oh, you're helping me? Well, let see how that's progressed. I have been slaving away, night and day to make you better, sacrificing time that could be spent fighting Voldemort or being more educated meanwhile making myself sick in the process, but you disregard all of my effort, destroy it and worst still, don't even tell me?"
She gives miniscule shakes of her head.
"You misunderstand me again. I'm helping you." She repeats. I glare at her.
"Helping by me not taking your potions and not healing?" I ask sarcastically. Having been not in the least serious, I am momentarily shocked when she nods affirmatively.
"I am soon to no longer be a burden to you. You will be heir of the Princes, Voldemort won't get any more money and I'll join Xavier." She logically lists, only burning my anger up even more.
"HOW COULD YOU ONLY THINK OF YOURSELF! Your ploy is easy to see, old woman! Don't tempt me with what benefits I get, only to list yours last – you know I care not for the money Xavier has saved through You-Know-Who-knows-what savagery. If you had any sort of courage, you could have stopped paying Voldemort since Xavier's death! Don't you get it, I don't want any of it!" I shout again, the energy released somewhat relieving. Her cold eyes continue to look at mine until I decide to drop my gaze. "You have no reason to die; you still have a lot to live for." I mumble, looking back to the pile of shattered flasks. I just can't fathom what has taken place. Surely, it's a mistake. When I look back in Grandma's eyes, however, see the hope extinguishes. Her eyes tell me that she has truly given up; that she has nothing to live for.
"I know that Xavier has moved on." I state albeit insensitively, watching as Grandma flinches a little. "But what about me?" I ask, hating that I must even ask.
"It is for the best." She stubbornly insists, raising her chin in an act of defiance.
"Slytherin snake – you're no better than the rest!" I spit as I turn away and walk out of the room. I grab the potion bottles from the preparation room and walk back in. "Here, let me help you. I spent 10 hours on this potion." I explain, holding a fluoro pink-coloured potion up so she can see it. I then proceed to hurl it at the wall, sending glass shards in my direction. Reflected with a wordless Protego, I continue to smash the other bottles until empty. I conclude with a worded "complete" before walking out altogether. Wordlessly, I apparate with Mercury to Hogwarts. Wordlessly, I fall on my bed. Wordlessly, I constantly destroy and repair my furniture, the tears cascading down my face in a silent procession. Wordlessly, I wonder what the point is.
I wake with a groan, my injured arm blazing with pain, no doubt enflamed by the repeated use of wordless magic. I roll out of the bed and walk to the bathroom which is thankfully unoccupied. I gently take off my robes and immediately detect blood; it would seem that my wound has reopened, blood oozing with a combination of a yellow sticky substance. With another groan, I magically cleanse myself and change clothes, having concluded that hard-hitting water against my wound ought not to improve it. Were it to be that I were in a more…tolerable humour, I would get Madam Pomfrey to look at it, but as it is, I'm in no mood to be around people of any type. I accio a bandage and to the best of my ability, smother my wound.
As if it could get any worse, the fates have assigned this very morning to Potions which happens to be the last subject I want to go to. Not only would my ill suppressed memories - and I suppose emotions - return upon my rendezvous with potion-making, but physically, I am still exhausted. I suppose it doesn't help with my wound blazing as though on fire, but I cannot bring myself to heal it. In a twisted way, I enjoy the pain which sees to make me angry, effectively drowning my other emotions with the intensity. I feel as though it gives me focus.
Mind you, when Lily accidently bumps into my said arm upon entering the Potions classroom, the pain was more bitter than sweet, eliciting a low, unchecked groan from me. Lily hastily puts her bag down then turns to me, her hands fluttering in the air madly as she chants "sorry". I whisper a quick "fine" and then make to get my books out of a satchel I've been carrying, only to have her hands darting in front of mine to pull them out.
"I'm not an invalid!" I harshly mutter, swiping her hands away to take the books myself.
"You're arm isn't getting any better, is it?" Lily asks without any preamble. I don't answer but focus on shoving the books on the table. With one useless arm, it isn't so simple anymore. "I thought as much." She says, turning to the bench as I pull a book from my unaligned stack. Professor Slughorn slowly walks into the classroom and blinks at the many faces staring at him – he's more than ten minutes late. The jovial man probably got too caught up in chatting to a female professor to realize that he had a duty of a different kind to perform.
"Now today, I want you to brew Amorentia. You only need to get to stage 12 and then place it under the Statis charm before finishing it next lesson. It's important that you do not sample taste the potion, if you want to avoid total embarrassment." Slughorn warns, purposefully eyeing certain daring people –i.e. Gryffindors. To end his impromptu speech, he nods his head and flicks his wand towards the board, the words magically appearing. His odd behaviour has honestly ceased to amaze me, now that I know how little he sleeps and how much he drinks.
Lily, instead of waiting for me to get the ingredients, deserts the table to hunt for the ingredients herself, leaving me with the task of reading the instructions. Her noble actions are so noticeably Gryffindor; she's trying to save me the pain, and despite hating to be dependent, if I pretend I don't realize what she's trying to do, I have her help me without my losing of pride. How it pays to be a Slytherin!
As Lily hands in the potion I gather my books and walk out. I hate being burdened by others; for too long my life has been dictated and determined by others, or at least my perception seems to think so. It wouldn't be so bad if my efforts were not eventually proved useless: my parents, my Slytherin friends, Grandma…with life against me, Lily's sure to join that list and so I see no reason to provide a catalyst for that reaction by involving more or myself.
Lifeless, I sit through the next class, skip recess and motionlessly attend the other classes. By the time lunch comes around, my mind is consumed more so by emotions then thoughts. Consumed with anger and hate, my body isn't in the slightest hungry, as though the hate fuels my body – but rather parched. Head down, I morosely enter the busy Hall and walk over to the Slytherin table and grab a glass of pumpkin juice, downing the beverage in a few gulps before swiftly exiting, refusing to meet the eyes of anyone; I'm in no mood for the petty discussions or required excuses.
I walk out into the courtyard, subconsciously holding a breath, waiting for that delicious moment where the cold air numbs all feeling and thought, shocking my body into breathing. Yet, just as I reach the final door, I feel a forceful tug on my arm. With not a moment's hesitation, I spin on my heel with wand in hand, only to face a slightly shocked and fiery Lily.
"What is it?" I ask, a bit rudely. She glares at me.
"We need to talk." She states.
"I'm listening."
"Severus, stop being a prat! The middle of a courtyard isn't the best place to discuss your – " I cut Lily off with a scowl.
"Fine." I mutter, exiting through the doors which a moment ago almost gave me freedom. Rather than walking to the intended Forbidden Forest, I lead Lily to our beech tree.
"What is it?" I repeat, my arms naturally crossing over my chest. In contrast, Lily's hands fly to her hips.
"What's wrong, Severus? I've barely seen anything of you and of what I have you've been in the foulest of moods! Is it your arm? Or is it your Grandmother?" She says in a rush, the words jumbling in her anger. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised with her tactless, Gryffindor method.
"Merlin's balls, stop interfering! So what if I'm not okay? What does it matter anyway?" I rhetorically question as I walk back to the castle.
"I'm your girlfriend!" She shouts at my retreating figure.
"Are you?" I reply, unable to help myself. I hear her gasp and can easily formulate the image in my head despite not seeing it; she is, after all, predictable. Unable and not wanting to deal with her and the many issues she creates (my emotions being one) I walk straight into the next class which happens to be a shared class with Gryffindor – also, inevitably, Lily – of Defence. I've no doubt that she, in all her stubborn pride, will accost me in the lesson. The mere thought makes me frustrated: my loved ones are always set to stun.I choose the furthest seat from the front – where she'll be bound to sit – and breathe a sigh of relief as Evans sits next to me, though such an emotion isn't outwardly portrayed.
"Today, we're going to practice wordless magic. In pairs, you'll be using simple hexes – stinging hex – and no more." Professor Reimers announces from the front of the room. Immediately, the dynamics of the class change as students shift and swap places and partners, the desks disappearing to provide space for duelling. We all form into the expected two lines and with mild surprise I see Lily opposite me – she's never paired up with me in Defence before.
"Now, on page 296 under 'Wordless Magic' the motion for a simple…" Reimers' voice drags on, quickly losing my interest. Lily carefully watches his face as he walks around the perimeter of the classroom, the intense curiosity on her face almost inspiring to watch.
"Ladies first." I motion once Lily turns her attention to me. Seeming somewhat stressed, Lily turns her wand towards me and begins to make the appropriate motions. It takes a few moments before finally I feel a rather mild sting graze my thigh. I nod to Lily to let her know that she did hit me as intended – momentarily erasing the worried look on her face – before pointing my wand at her. Wordless magic, for such simple spells, should be easy for me and indeed it takes all but a second to send a stinging hex at Lily's arm, but the strain of the motion and the flow of the magic make me involuntary gasp and clutch my wand arm. My eyes slowly open – having shut during the immense pain, only to see a seething Lily, complete with the hands on hips. Her wand directed at me coupled with the determined look on her face truly makes me wonder. Without a moment's hesitation, a spell fires from her wand and the moment it makes contact with my skin, I know it's no ordinary stinging hex. Boils, filled with pus, start to appear all over my exposed skin. I look at Lily furiously but she just ignores me, instead trying to grab the attention of Reimers.
"Sir, I accidently thought of a boil hex – he was annoying me, you see – and being wordless magic, I barely realized! Now my partner is covered in these disastrous boils." Lily explains in a rush. Professor Reimers looks over to me then back at Lily.
"5 points from Slytherin for being such a hindrance. Take him to the Hospital wing Miss Evans and while you cure him of the boils see if you can fix his temperament."
"Yes, sir." Lily replies dutifully, turning around and grabbing my good arm.
"I don't see any difference." Narcissa remarks as I walk out, earning a laugh not only from her Slytherin followers but also the blasted Marauders.
"Couldn't have said it better myself Cissy!" Black compliments. How lovely to think my demise unites the evils of the world!
As we walk, I take a quick side look at Lily who seems to be frustrated. I can't help but admire her Slytherin-esque ploy, which, though it was executed with Gryffindor boldness, was very subtly handled. But said admiration quickly disappears as a pimple on the end of my nose bursts. In a humph, I cross my arms, letting my hair fall around my face in a mediocre attempt to cover it. Lily doesn't say a word.
"You know, I could just go to the library and find the counter-curse." I state, needing an outlet for my anger.
"I could just tell Madam Pomfrey of your arm anyway." She retorts, the anger clear in her voice. As we near the double doors, she halts me gently.
"Severus, I really care for you and it's about time you did too." She says simply, placing a simple kiss on my cheek before pushing the doors open. Madam Pomfrey gracefully walks towards us. How can Lily be so forgiving?
"Ah, overdone a hex have we Miss Evans?" Madam Pomfrey asks lightly, ushering me to a chair.
"Yes ma'am." She replies sweetly. I glare at her.
"Right then, a simple spell should do it!" Madam declares, brandishing her wand. In the next second the boils and their pus residue disappear. "All done, Mister Snape!"
"But Professor, I'm worried I may have accidently cast another spell –we're practicing wordless magic you see – and Severus is sometimes too noble for his own good. I think it hit his wand arm, the right." Lily interrupts. Madam Pomfrey looks at her and nods.
"Very wise, dear. I'll do a quick medical check; I just have to grab your previous files." She replies, ready to turn away. "Mister Snape, while you're here, we may as well see your arm wound." Madam Pomfrey decides. I glare at Lily again who only stares back, all oblivious to Pomfrey. "You may want to sit down, dear." Pomfrey advises Lily.
Madam Pomfrey turns away to get my medical file. My eyes narrow even further at Lily who betrayed me with a kiss.
"Thank you, but I best return to class, I'm weak when it comes to such things." Lily lies at her retreating back. I glare at her even more.
"Of course, dear." Pomfrey says. Lily leans in closer to me.
"Don't you start." She warns, apparently about to see my barrage of words.
"Slytherin." I hiss. She gives me a scowl as Pomfrey turns around and starts making her way back again. Lily makes her way out of the room, mouthing as she closes the door for me to find her after. After a betrayal like that, not likely.
Hello everyone,
Well, it's updated. I'm not too happy with the way this chapter has turned out and I fully intend on changing it a bit later on, but figured it was about time I'd updated!
I hope you all had an exciting, relaxing and magical festive season coupled with a thrilling beginning to the New Year.
Please, as usual, read and review - it makes a world of difference to me.
Thank you all again for all of your support,
Love,
Ange
(Missteque).