Chapter 11 Closer
Severus did not even ask when Tristan gave him a whole basilisk fang and a heavy stone grinder the next day. The Potions Master had the workbench moved to his quarters and upon receiving his needed ingredient, shut himself in his room with express orders to not be disturbed at any cost. Tristan joked and asked if it was still to be the case if the building were to catch fire. Severus just glared and shut the door unceremoniously right at the young lord's face. Tristan sighed. Some things never really change. He was prepared not to see the man for days, so when Severus barged in the dining room in the middle of dinner that night, with a huge smile on his normally stoic face Tristan paused in the middle of attacking his slice of shepherd's pie.
"I see you are progressing well?"
Severus took the seat opposite him.
"The base is done. I just need to add the remaining doxy eggs –one every 24 hours for the next ten days –and let it sit for two days afterwards."
Tristan's eyes shone with something akin to pride.
"That's brilliant, Sev! I knew you could do it!" He beamed. Severus did not know why he was blushing –whether it was the high praise coming from a High Lord no less, or the familiar but downright uncomfortable pet name that slipped off of Tristan's tongue. Not knowing what to say, he nodded and turned to his pie.
"I still have to test it, though," he eventually said. Tristan waved him off.
"I'm sure it would work."
Severus raised an eyebrow.
"You believe in my capacity that much?"
Tristan grabbed a goblet of pumpkin juice and took a sip.
"I'd test your potion myself,"
Severus, who was in the process of chewing, choked violently at that pronouncement.
"WHA –"
"Severus!" Tristan spat out the pumpkin juice in his mouth and rushed towards the other side of the table. He immediately saw to the now purple-faced wizard. The young lord helped him stand up and wrapped his arms around the man's midsection from behind. Tristan then made a fist with his right hand and with his left hand assisting it, he positioned himself and Severus for a Heimlich maneuver. Tristan pushed the man's midsection upward towards his own, gently but firmly. It took three thrusts before Severus' windpipe was clear yet again. The young lord breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the man coughing, but he had been panicking enough to not notice that they still remained in that awkward position.
"Are you okay?" Worried green eyes searched for a confirmation.
"I –I thank you," Obsidian glanced back. For a moment, their eyes connected and they were lost in each other's worlds. There were words to be spoken, sentiments to be aired, but for that one fleeting moment, time seemed to have stopped for the two powerful wizards.
It was Severus who broke the spell this time.
"I am quite well, thank you Lord Peverell,"
Tristan only noticed then that he still had his arms around the Lord-in-Training. He reddened and withdrew them hastily.
"I –I apologize for catching you off-guard with my statement." The young lord made his way back to his seat as Severus reclaimed his own. The older wizard was watching him pensively.
"You could have used 'Anapneo,'"
Tristan blushed.
"No wizard magic works here, remember? And besides, I… panicked. It was pure instinct,"
Severus nodded and took a sip of his own goblet of pumpkin juice.
"I see. I should be glad that the High Lord of Wizengamot knows muggle first aid, thank you." He placed his goblet back down. "You did mean that though? You would test the Male Pregnancy Potion?"
Tristan suddenly found the table cloth interesting.
"I –well –I have always wanted a family," He clearly looked quite agitated as he spoke. Severus understood the sentiment and decided not to probe further. He sighed.
"Then I thank you for the trust, Lord Peverell," Tristan blushed.
"I –You're welcome, Lord Prince," he then stood up from his seat. "Now, if you'll excuse me, there are things I must attend to…"
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June 7, 1811
He wrote to me. After three months. I guess he wanted to explain or to see how I am faring in his absence. His purpose, I wouldn't know. I burned his letter without reading it. Tigris seemed upset at my action as she tried to bite my ear off before heading back to Prince Manor to report to her master.
Why? Why try to contact me now? Are his nights plagued by nightmares like mine were?
I was ready to give everything up for him. Was it too much to ask for the same in return?
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Over the next two weeks, both tutor and Lord-in-Training have fallen into a comfortable routine. Mornings were spent by Severus attending to his potion while Tristan saw to his own estate business. Lessons on Wizarding Law 101 commenced right before lunch and Noble Customs after. Post-dinner, they tackled other varying topics ranging from swordsmanship, lordship rites and finance.
Severus became more and more entrenched as well into the ramblings of one Nile Peverell. It had almost become a daily Bible to him –the journal never left his bedside. The more he had read of it though, the more the questions in his mind plagued his reveries.
He still had no clue on how to approach his host. As the days went on by, Tristan Peverell became more and more of an enigma. The more time Severus spent with him, the more he became perplexed.
There were those clues… the little slip-ups that pointed to one thing; but there were also those instances that questioned his train of thought.
The day he finished the Male Pregnancy Potion, Severus decided to approach Tristan Peverell. It was way past dinnertime; he carried the cooled vial of potion and rapped on the young lord's bedroom door.
"Lord Peverell?" Came the knock. He waited a few seconds. There was no answer. He was about to knock again when a blood-curling scream came from the other side of the door.
"AAAAAAHHHH!"
Severus almost dropped the vial he was holding. If not for his Death Eater/ spy-trained reflexes, his two-week work of art would have been ruined. He immediately stowed the vial in the pocket of his robes and turned his attention to the door.
"Lord Peverell? Tristan?"
"AAAAAAHHHH!"
Screw propriety.
Severus pressed his ear against the heavy mahogany panel.
"NO! Merlin, NOOOOO!"
"Tristan! What on earth is going on in there?" He yelled at the door, a panicked look gracing his features. His common sense dictated that there should be no one else to get past the Lair aside from Tristan, Gareth, Dinky and himself… So why the heck was the young Lord screaming like someone was bloody murdering him?
"You –you can't die! Not you –MERLIN –don't –LEAVE HIM ALONNE!"
Then, it hit Severus.
"Tristan! Wake up, you fool! It is merely a nightmare!" Severus screamed, rattling the brass doorknob.
"AAAAAAHHHH!"
In a split-second, the obsidian-eyed wizard was pushing against the door with all his might, never more wishing that he could have just blasted the thing with a well-placed 'reducto'. In his third attempt though, the heavy locked door gave way.
The normally stoic man gasped at the sight that greeted him.
The usually composed and put-together young man was bare from the waist up, twisted among the red silk sheets of his bed spread, unconscious, with his now luminously pale skin drenched in sweat. But that otherwise, rather erotic picture, was not what caused Severus' reaction, but the expression on the nobleman's face.
Terror. Pain. Horror.
"Tristan!" Severus began to shake him in an attempt to awaken the thrashing wizard.
"Unh… no, please, Sev –"
Severus dropped the arm he was holding. Tristan was dreaming… about him? He watched the scene unfold, frozen stiff –the alarm he first felt in seeing the man in that circumstance, forgotten.
"Leave him alone! NO! You can't –you bloody git! You can't die!"
Severus' breath hitched.
"You can't, you hear me? You can't die! I –I lo –"
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(flashback)
"Out of my way! I need to see Madame Pomfrey!" A bloodied young man stormed through the swing doors of Hogwarts Infirmary, levitating what appeared to be a sack of potatoes behind him. His hair was mussed up; His glasses, broken; His face, marred by numerous cuts and bruises; His clothes, caked with mud and stained with almost dried blood.
A harried-looking woman in crumpled pale blue robes rushed towards him.
"Mr. Potter! What on earth –"
Harry Potter dumped his burden on the nearest bed before his knees gave way.
"Heal –Heal him!" he motioned towards the pile of black cloth he had just deposited on the bed.
"Nonsense! You need assistance far more than anyone else!" The famed medi-witch moved towards him.
"NO!" The Chosen One yelled. "Heal him first! He managed an anti-venom, I reckon –but his neck –See to him!" he roared. Poppy Pomfrey had never seen the young man, in all her years of attending to him, in such an agitated state. She found herself seeing to the other body Mr. Potter brought over.
"Severus Snape! The traitor! The aurors –"
"SHUT UP!" Harry screamed. "Shut up and heal him!" He fixed her a desperate glare. "Please, Madame Pomfrey, he's innocent –"
The medi-witch raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She proceeded to tending to the ex-spy's wounds as Harry looked on. A few minutes later…
"Is he okay now?" The young man croaked. Poppy looked at him.
"He's out of danger now. But he'll need time to fully recover." She sighed. "Mr. Potter, the aurors –the Ministry –"
Harry nodded.
"I'll have to speak to Professor McGonagall. Severus Snape is innocent,"
"But –"
Harry raised his wand and drew a series of complicated patterns in the air. He turned to Poppy.
"This private room has been warded. Only Professor McGonagall, you or I may enter."
"But –"
Harry smiled tiredly at her.
"It will all be fine, Madame Pomfrey, trust me," He showed her a vial in his hand. And then, he was gone."
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Tristan bolted up from his bed with a loud gasp. He automatically reached up to his forehead. He sighed. His dreams were now constantly plagued by snakes, blood and death. It had been months –years –since… and months that he had resolved to take Dreamless Sleep more regularly. He must've forgotten this time. Good thing for Goblin Silencing charms…
Oh. Bloody. Crap.
Tristan closed his eyes.
'Please. Please tell me I remembered to activate the Silencing charms. Please, please, please…'
He opened his eyes once more.
Beside his bed stood, a frozen, tight-lipped and pale-faced Severus Snape…
Oh. Bloody. Crap.
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"You can't die! I –I love you!"
There had to be some other explanation to this insanity.
Severus watched as Tristan Peverell woke up from his nightmare on his own. The young lord's hand immediately flew up to his forehead, seemingly oblivious to his presence. He knew he should move, say something or breathe even, but he couldn't. His mind was on overdrive.
There had better be some other explanation as to why Tristan Peverell was dreaming about his death and professing love to him –apparently. He tried to find something coherent from the depths of his mind. He couldn't. Nothing.
But when Tristan's bright green, teary eyes met his own dark, fathomless orbs, all of a sudden, it clicked.
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(flashback)
'Is this death? If it is, it fails to excite me. So much for Albus' Next Great Adventure.'
Severus found himself wandering. There was no other word to describe this existence…
Black.
Darkness enveloped him from all sides. There was nothing to see. He cannot even hear the sound of his own breathing –not that he would be. He was dead, right?
Then, a voice…
"Leave him alone!"
Severus frowned. That voice was familiar… a voice that plagued his existence for almost a third of his life.
"NOOO! You can't! Leave him ALONE!"
'Potter. Must you continue to annoy me even in the afterlife?'
"No, please –"
'Yes, please, Potter. Cease this infernal screaming and leave me alone. I would much prefer spending my death in peace, thank you very much.'
"No, you can't die! You hear me?"
'For crying out loud! Why won't you let me be? I've already passed on! And stop screaming! You are proving to be loud enough to wake the dearly departed!'
"NO! You can't –you bloody git! You can't die! I –"
'Who are you calling a git, Potter? Twenty points from Gryffin-"
"I love you!"
' –dor.'
Suddenly, a flood of bright light…
Severus opened his eyes.
"Oh, thank heavens, you're awake!" A female voice exclaimed.
"Where –where am I?" The ex-spy/ Death Eater squinted as his vision adjusted. He turned to where the voice was coming from.
"P –Poppy?"
Poppy Pomfrey was in tears.
"Oh Severus!" He was suddenly enveloped in a hug. "Thank Merlin!"
"What –how –how am I still alive? How -did I get -here? And why -are you -hugging -me?" He managed to croak out between deep breaths. "For -Circe's -sake, woman! Why -are you -crying?"
Poppy pulled back and gave him a glare.
"Of you poor, daft, innocent man! Harry –"
"Mr. Potter?" Severus raised his eyebrows. "Where –is he?"
"He left for the Ministry –with proof of your innocence. He brought you here. He says you managed to take anti-venom for that blasted snake's poison but –oh, thank Merlin he was right on time. He was screaming –demanding to have you healed. I –I almost didn't, but –he said you were innocent. Oh, I'm so sorry for ever doubting you, Severus. Now I know –and Minerva knows! We will care for you –"
Severus felt a monster of a headache coming on.
"And –the Dark –Lord?"
"Harry killed him! He's finally gone for good!"
Severus Snape finally allowed himself to succumb to darkness once more.