A/N: SPOV
A/N #2: So now we know that Severus' history includes a D/s relationship with Lily Evans... This becomes one of those head-cannons for me that resonates and makes sense, explaining why he didn't go after another submissive while he was under Voldemort's rule. -DaniSnape
Severus' eyes finally opened, and he realized that his body had indeed needed rest after all of that. He saw he was in his bed and Poppy Pomfrey was sitting over him.
When it hit him where he was, instead of the Hospital wing, he bolted upright, wanting to secure his paperwork.
"Now, now, Severus, Tonks was white as a ghost when she called me at the state you were in. Don't go overexerting yourself with paperwork and reports for Albus now. Merlin knows how much you've gone through... You should know that your arm is wrapped up in a compress of dittany. All of the skin that was remaining there had to be excised for risk of infection. I can't imagine the person who could do this to another..." Her eyes teared up, as Severus understood the depths people would go in order to save themselves.
"She's... still here?" His heart fluttered at the idea that she was concerned for him, yet it crashed at the current state of his desk. Either she read it and we'll have to speak about this or she didn't and I'll simply burn it the first chance I get. He tried sitting up again, and Poppy threatened to tie him down to the bed.
"You stay here, and I'll tell her that you've woken up. She wanted to know that anyways." Poppy exited his bedroom, and his mind decided at that moment to try and make sure that he, and his bedroom, were presentable for her.
As he saw her from the doorway, he felt relieved to see her hair in its normal shock of pink. He had been worried that she would have returned to that Pettigrew shade of brown again.
"Oh thank Merlin. I didn't know if…if…" She shook her head, unsure of how to say the same words he thought every time when he went out. If I would survive this time.
"How's your arm? Are you okay? How do you feel? What happened? How did you…" Her questions and her concern was a balm to him, and he smiled, even knowing how irksome she was becoming. She realized it, and paused herself, deciding to say something entirely different.
She smiled at him, and he was glad to see someone so unabashedly concerned for him. "Sorry about the potions..." His eyes quickly found Poppy's, and she left them to have a bit of privacy.
"Let me know if I can be of any more assistance, Severus." The mediwitch smiled wistfully at him as she took the floo back to the Hospital Wing.
He attempted to lift his right arm, but the knitting skin pulled taut and he winced a bit. He'd have to use his left for now. He took her hands in his left, and thanked her.
"Skin will regrow itself, and I am one to always wear long sleeves. It appears that I needed a bit of rest after all. Had it been a different combination of potions given in the wrong order... well, that's how the basis of the Draught of Living Death was stumbled upon. It was designed to keep you alive, but not necessarily revive you."
He decided to change the subject. "I'm beginning to see your impudence as a charming quality, Nymphadora. Don't lose that. Also, I'm glad you were still able to understand my Patronus, I had sworn I sent it to the castle."
He took stock of his surroundings, and instinctively knew why he felt so odd. "Where's my wand, Nymphadora?" His hand had felt vulnerable without it. He could just send the pages into the fire had he been wielding his wand. It was then he realized he was being a coward, because he didn't want to bring it up only to then have to tell her about it if she hadn't read it in the first place. No, it's better if she brings it up to me. I'm without doubt that she would anyways.
"Thank you for finding me. I..." He thought about it. "Did you have any questions concerning your homework?" He tried not to smile at the white-washing of it. He really wanted to ask if the ideas of bondage and masochism aroused her as much as the other side of it did for him.
I'll have to make a special order again with Twilfitt, it seems. He mused, wondering which color restraints and collar would do best with her skin tone and hair color. Black was decent and would work for every occasion, but someone like her would need a contrasting color, something that expressed who she truly was. His mind then betrayed him, and made him imagine her wearing a pink leather collar at the next Order meeting, and he was unable to keep a chuckle out of his voice. He found himself glad to have this witch here by his side.