Days had passed and I was sitting at my desk, my mind still running over what Severus had told me on Sunday. Harry Potter would have to die. It had been part of a plan Dumbledore created. Severus told me how shocked and angry he was when he was told that they were only keeping Harry alive so he could die at the right time. He had made a promise to keep Lily's son safe and he had thought that Dumbledore had the same goal, but it seemed his intentions were strictly utilitarian.
He talked at length about everything, I sat and listened for hours. At one point in his story he got up from the bed and returned with my dress in his hands, he placed it on the bed and reclaimed his spot across from me. It was a sweet gesture, one that made me feel even worse that I was having trouble following his tale. There were two swords, a real one that Harry had been able to pull from the sorting hat years before, and a fake one that Dumbledore had made because he feared the Ministry would confiscate the real one. Rufus Scrimgeour and the Ministry did take the sword for examination but since it was a fake they found nothing suspicious or interesting. When they finally returned it, Dumbledore's Army attempted to steal it. I must have shown considerable confusion at this because Severus took a moment to explain that Dumbledore's Army is what a group of students call themselves. The group started as a sort of vigilante defence group set up by Harry Potter against Delores Umbridge. This news made me decide that I liked Harry.
The news that the students had tried to steal the sword caused panic within the Death Eaters that Harry wanted it. They had no idea what he wanted it for, but it became top priority to move the sword somewhere he would never be able to access it. Severus told me how he handed the fake sword over to Bellatrix Lestrange to store in her top security vault at Gringotts. The real sword was hidden somewhere that would be revealed to him when the time was right.
The portrait of the man with the pointed beard, who I could identify as the one who seemed to give me particularly nasty looks when Severus and I were together, had a second portrait at Sirius Black's old family home. This portrait had been taken by Harry's friend Hermione and the old Headmaster, Phineas Nigellus Black, was able to move between the two. This was how Severus had planned to be able to figure out where they were, however, Hermione seemed to expect that Phineas would exchange information and the portrait was kept in the dark, literally. It had been months and Severus knew nothing of importance or that he could use.
All of this information and more flowed from him so rapidly, so readily, that I felt if I hadn't been there to share it with, he might have exploded. The way his eyes focused on me as he spoke made the experience feel more intimate than anything I had ever experienced. He was so open, honest, vulnerable, all of his normal walls he kept up had come down. Once he had finished he let out a long breath and his shoulders relaxed.
I wrapped my arms around him and held tightly. "You're not useless." I had whispered. "You're amazing and brave and loyal and kind and intelligent and I love you so, so much."
His arms wrapped tightly around my waist in response. I pressed my lips to the side of his neck, his pulse beat rapidly under them. The feel of his body against mine made me angry with myself that I hadn't allowed us to finish what we had started that morning in my room. I could feel the hunger for him gnawing at me, but it was far too late to restart. I had left with a goodbye and a final kiss in front of the door leading out into the halls. I hadn't so much as seen a note from him since then.
Shuffling parchment pulled me from my reminiscing. I jerked my head up to see Jamie putting away one assignment and grabbing for another. His affliction was spreading and a bit of his slimy new skin could be seen over the top of his gown near his shoulder. Every morning he checked and every morning it had spread. Every morning he panicked and every morning I had to assure him that the remedy was being brewed and would be ready soon. I had never known boys to be so concerned with their appearance and was sure if either of my brothers had started mutating into a worm they both would have been over the moon and begun experimenting immediately. I considered for a moment and decided that Jamie's reaction was far more normal.
I returned my attention to a new bit of paperwork from St. Mungo's. The only sounds in the Hospital Wing were the scratchings of mine and Jamie's quills. Today hadn't been as busy and it was nice to finally have a moment to myself, even if it was spent in the presence of a wormboy and doing paperwork.
I concentrated a breakdown of all that my team had accomplished without me; cases, diagnostic times, bed turnover, supplies used. I cross checked the cases with supplies to make sure everything matched, I checked the diagnostic times to confirm that patients were being treated timely and to see if they had made any impressive discoveries in a shorter amount of time than I'd have expected. The last bit was for my own curiosity. It felt like I had been gone for so long, but it had been less than a week. I missed my team, they were familiar to me and I was used to seeing them every day, though being here certainly proved to have its perks.
I became aware that the scratching of Jamie's quill had ceased, just as I was going to lift my head to check that everything was alright, a bottle of apple green liquid clunked down on my desk. Pale, slender fingers lingered on the stopper. My eyes glided from the fingers slowly up a black robed body to a face; Severus. A sultry inferno danced in his gaze as he looked at me, his lips were relaxed and slightly parted. My jaw dropped and my heart erupted, breath was knocked from my chest, I felt my cheeks flush with heat. His mouth curled into a salacious smirk, my brain had ceased function as I stared at him open mouthed. His hand retracted from the bottle, sliding deftly into a pocket and returning to place a small, folded bit of parchment next to the bottle. He tapped his middle finger on the note once before turning around and exiting from the room with long, confident strides. His back had been turned to Jamie, shielding the entire interaction from anyone but myself. I could feel my hot blood racing through every part of my body. My eyes stayed glued to the last spot he had been for a long moment before realising that my mouth was still hanging open. I straightened myself out, closing my mouth, clearing my throat, and shaking my head of the indecent thoughts that were flooding my mind.
I reached for the note, sliding it across the desk and placing it in my apron pocket for later. "Good news!" I announced, walking around the desk and picking up the bottle.
"I'm not drinking that." Jamie said, his face pale.
I stopped walking towards his bed. "What?"
"It's poisoned." he said, as though it were obvious. "I'm not taking it."
"It's not poisoned." I argued. "Don't be ridiculous."
"Snape made it. It's definitely going to kill me." he said.
"Snape absolutely did not make it." I lied. "Could you imagine me going to the Headmaster, especially this headmaster, and asking him to brew a potion for a student turning into a worm?"
"Then why did he deliver it?" he asked, suspiciously. "He certainly had time to poison it even if he didn't make it."
"Impossible," I dismissed, ignoring the first question. "There isn't a poison in existence that wouldn't have had an effect on the colour of this potion, which is the most perfect shade of apple green I have ever seen." His eyes remained locked on the bottle, squinting with suspicion. "What possible benefit could your demise have for him? Do you think he envies your position as school wormboy and in killing you guarantees the title for himself?"
His eyes went wide with shock. "Er,"
"I'm sorry." I apologised, rubbing my forehead with the back of my wrist as I continued to hold the bottle in my hand. "But, you have to take this. If word gets out that a student completed the transformation into a mutant worm under my care, people will talk. I'll be cast out, hurled from St. Mungo's without a second thought. I'll be a laughing stock."
I was met with an incredulous stare. "Fine, I'll take it. Just…stop being dramatic."
"Wonderful!" I said, continuing to his bed with a smile. I put a small amount in the bottom of an empty cup on his tray. "Drink up, I'll check on you in an hour."
I made my way back to my desk, placing the bottle on the corner and sitting in my chair. Jamie sat frowning as he smacked his lips at the bitter potion. I dug my hand into my pocket, withdrawing the letter from Severus.
I'm sorry for my absence. I promise I'll make up for it soon.
I folded the note back up and slid it into my desk drawer with the last one I received from him. I looked back up at Jamie who had returned his attention to his assignments. I returned my attention to the reports from St. Mungo's, finishing up the last of the work without interruption.
"Alright, Jamie." I said, standing up from my chair. "Let's see how your skin is doing." I made my way over to him as he set his quill down on his tray. I pulled at the collar of his hospital gown, any evidence that anything other than normal skin had been there a few hours ago was gone. I noticed him watching me nervously and smiled. "Well, I think there is rapid improvement and you are free to go."
"Really?" he asked, excitedly. "Tonight?"
"Now." I said. "There is no reason for you to stay if you don't want to now that you're on the mend. Just come back to me before breakfast and after dinner for a few more doses and you should be completely back to normal by the weekend."
A smile spread across his face as he pushed his tray away and hopped out of bed. He quickly disappeared behind the privacy screen and within moments he was dressed, had his bag packed, and was on his way into the hall with a quick thanks. I stood in the middle of the once again empty Hospital Wing, marvelling at how much lonelier it already felt.
The next week dragged by in the slowest manner I had felt. I had students one after another with easily treatable injuries, several students unable to sleep, and even more who were anxious about everything that was happening. I was going through Draught of Peace faster than I thought possible when there were no looming exams. Jamie had finished the rest of the potion and was back to just being a boy. St. Mungo's sent a little more for me to look over and I had received letters from both Susan and Sean. It seemed that no matter how many small tasks I had to complete, none of them seemed to take any time.
I hadn't seen or even heard from Severus since he delivered the potion. I hadn't been stupid enough to allow myself to expect to see him daily, but we had started out that way and suddenly it stopped. I had a student in my care for a length of time, which kept me occupied enough, but now, both things that had kept me distracted were gone. I resorted to repeating his last message in my head, but that only made me wonder what his definition of soon was and whether or not I would see him before Christmas. Which made me wonder what I was going to do for Christmas, would there be students staying behind like in years past or would everyone be keen to get out? Would I be expected to stay or would I be able to visit home? I hesitated, would I want to go home or would I want to spend Christmas with Severus, would he want to spend the time with me? Would he be able to?
I shook my head and pressed my tired eyes with my palms. I looked up at the clock telling me that it was well past midnight. I stood up and with a swirl of my wand extinguished the candles before heading into my chambers. I pulled my hair down from the bun I wore that day, my hair cascaded over my shoulders in a waterfall of curls. I took off my apron and hung it near the wardrobe, slipping off my shoes and leaving them under the hanging apron. I stood near the chair where my nightgown laid, unbuttoning my dress, my tired fingers taking more time than usual when there was a knock at the door.
I reclasped the buttons I had been able to get undone and rushed to the door. I wondered who it could be at this hour, especially when no one was supposed to be about this time of night. I pulled open the door and was immediately enveloped in arms and pushed backwards into my bedroom. With a raised wand, Severus closed and locked my chamber door before tossing his wand carelessly aside. His hands slid to my waist as he pressed his lips to mine. I ran my hands up his chest to steady myself as I melted into his kiss. His hands slid up my back, pressing my body harder against his. He pulled his lips back for just a moment.
"Where have you–" I began only to be silenced with a gentle finger on my lips.
He shook his head slowly, his heated gaze filling my whole body with desire. "No talking." His voice was deep and gravely. His fingers slid slowly from my lips to my sleeve, languidly slipping it off of my shoulder. He leaned in, pressing his lips to the soft, newly exposed skin. My heart exploded at the feel of his kiss on my body as he dragged his lips from my shoulder to my throat. His hands swept from my waist to my hips, shivers following them down. His kisses were slow, as if he were savouring every moment that his lips spent in contact with my skin. His hands tightened on my hips as he steered me to the bed, lifting me to sit on the mattress. I parted my legs and he stepped into the space between my knees. The back of his index finger sweetly stroked my jaw before tilting my face up, pressing his lips slowly to mine. The deliberate manner with which he was executing every movement, every touch, every advance made my body taut with anticipation. I wanted him, all of him, right now, this moment, and he was drawing out the experience, withholding from me the immediate pleasure I desired. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him harder against my lips, I felt his mouth curl into a smile.
I withdrew one of my arms from his neck, reaching for my wand resting on the bedside table. My fingers knocked it about before finally grasping it, I held it firmly in my hand as I pulled back from Severus. With a swift up to down swipe, I separated the buttons from his tunic, sending them clattering to the floor as I tossed my wand to the side. His shirt front fell open and I pushed his tunic and cape from his shoulders, sending them tumbling to a heap on the floor.
"What happened to tactile pleasures?" he asked. I looked up at him through my lashes, his teasing smile slid from his face at my regard
I clung to his cotton undershirt with closed fistfuls of fabric. "No talking." I whispered.
He leaned forward, his lips falling on mine, coming together to join in a rhythmic dance. We separated for only a moment as I lifted his shirt over his head. Our lips met again and my fingertips pressed hungrily to the soft, warm skin of his back. I leaned backwards, pulling his weight down on my body. He wrapped an arm tightly under my body as he scooted me upwards, settling his hips in between my legs. His fingers set to work on the buttons of my dress, undoing them slowly. His tongue swirled slowly around my own as my fingers curled into his hair while he continued working on my dress. His hands slid from the buttons down to my thighs, pushing my dress up, pausing his hands on the curves of my hips. To my disappointment, he pulled away, grasping my hands to pull me up. He leaned in, placing his lips momentarily to my cheek before lifting my dress over my head, the garment discarded on the floor with the others. His eyes flowed slowly over my body, heat blooming deep inside of me at his attention. He leaned back in, his lips pressed to my collarbone, his hands swept up the curve of my spine to the clasp of my bra.
I layed back down as it came loose. Severus moved to kneel in front of me on the bed, his gaze lingered on my face before slowly streaming down the rest of my body. My eyes plead with him to touch me, to take me. He lowered himself down, his lips pressing softly to my throat. I closed my eyes and I felt his dotted kisses on my neck, shoulders, and chest. His lips brushed against my breast, placing a light kiss on one nipple and then the other. I inhaled sharply at the unexpected contact. My entire body screamed with yearning. I was starving for him.
I opened my eyes to find him with a smirk tugging up the corner of his mouth as he looked down at me, my lips curled into a smile in return. My heart was pounding in my chest, I could feel the blood speeding through my veins, my body was shaking as I waited for his touch. I watched with expectation as he removed the rest of his clothes and mine. He crawled up to me, suspending himself momentarily above me, gazing fondly down at me. My heart launched itself into my throat at passion filling his eyes. I lifted my hands to his sides, pressing my fingernails lightly against his flesh. His weight pushed down on me as he allowed the pleasure I hungered for. His lips parted mine as our bodies ebbed and flowed, moving together towards one rapturous goal. His movements maintained their deliberate slowness and sweetness. The anticipation he let build heightened every motion, ecstasy building quickly despite the tranquillity of his love-making. His mouth pressed hard to my neck as I swivelled my hips against him. His deep moan vibrated against my throat as we moved together, building our nirvana as one. I pressed firmly against him as I felt the pleasure build in me. My movements sped up against his, his grip on my body tightened in response. The faster I moved my hips, the more he moaned and the bigger thrill I felt.
I wanted to make him feel as good as he made me feel. I rotated my hips into him with a rhythmic force. His hold on me tightened further and I could feel the waves building, preparing to crash down in blissful chaos. I gave one final strong gyration as I felt him tense against me. His lips crushed mine as a growling moan tore from him. I wrapped my legs tightly around him as I succumbed to his pleasures, waves rising and falling inside of me. His weight fell on me as we both caught our breath, still experiencing the aftershocks of satisfaction.
We laid facing each other horizontally across the bed on top of the covers. I propped my head up on the back of my hand, our bodies were close enough together that I could feel his heat. I slid my fingertips softly back and forth over the dip of his waist, absentmindedly watching my fingers glide over the smooth skin. A small shifting movement pulled my eyes from their hypnotised concentration, flicking up to his face. His head rested on his palm, his expression was calm and his eyes watched me with a warm adoration. My heart thumped, radiating a sensation similar to how I imagined butter felt being melted on a hot piece of toast. A closed lip smile spread across my lips.
"I want to be able to do that." I whispered.
His brow furrowed, "Do what, exactly?"
"I wish I could make you feel how you make me feel." I explained.
"And how do I make you feel?" he asked, his expression serious, his eyes focused on my face.
"I don't know if I have the right words." I realised. "The way you focus on me, the undivided attention, the way you kiss me, touch me, it makes me feel precious, desirable, important, like I'm the most beautiful goddess ever to exist. Your actions are like worship."
His eyes held me, he lifted a hand and gently tucked a piece of hair behind my ear, circling his fingertips around to caress my cheek. "You do." he said simply. "I don't know that I would go as far as to use the word 'goddess', but I always feel very pretty when I'm with you." A grin lit up his face as he watched me.
I couldn't stop myself from laughing. "That's not what I mean."
"I know," he said with a slight chuckle. "Do you think I consciously do the things that make you feel this way? I don't. Just like I don't expect that you put great thought into making me feel that I'm not worthless, that I'm wanted, that I can show up in the middle of the night and not be worried about whether or not I'll be accepted. I don't think you've even considered that you've made me confident about something I never thought I would even have; love."
I lifted my hand to trace a shiny white mark on his chest that I had never noticed before, just below his collar bone. I leaned in, pressing my lips softly to the scar. I noticed another mark on his upper arm, a thick line splicing off into thinner ones, like branches of a tree. I followed one of the lines with my middle finger, gently brushing over his skin before placing a kiss over the design. There was a third mark cutting vertically over his ribcage. I followed its slightly raised path until it curved off and disappeared near his navel.
"What are you doing?" His voice was soft and filled with curiosity.
"Where did all of these scars come from?" I asked, brushing over an amoeba shaped mark on his hip bone.
"That one came from a potion splatter, burned clean through my robes." he said, taking hold of me gently by the wrist and moving my hand to a thick, ropy scar cutting under his ribcage across his diaphragm. "That was from when I was developing a new spell, I was stupid and could have killed myself." he let go of my wrist and moved to expose the side he had been laying on. A patch of raised and dipped skin stretched from his ribs curving to his back where it disappeared, pressed against the bed. "Fiendfyre" he said, an involuntary gasp escaped me as I ran my hand over the white and pink lattice patterned scar. "Again, I was stupid and could have killed myself." He began to gesture to different marks on his body. "Potion, potion, potion, duel, jinx." He moved his hand to the tree branch scar on his arm. "Splinched."
"Why haven't I noticed any of these before?" I asked, sitting up looking down at the patch work of small and large scars that covered his body.
"We haven't seen each other like this very often and the two times prior to this one were in darkness and one of those times I wasn't very exposed."
"I thought I knew you better," I said, feeling disappointed in myself. "But now I'm afraid I don't know you at all."
"You know me very well, I dare to say better than anyone." he said, lifting himself up, scooting next to me, placing a soft kiss on my shoulder. "Not this bit, but the pieces of me that actually matter. Most of these are just small, insignificant memories."
"There are ointments and potions that can make them go away." I said, absently tracing a crescent moon shaped scar on the inside of his thigh.
"I don't want them to go away." He shook his head. "I said they were insignificant and in every meaning of the word, they are, but to me, they hold a significance. They are reminders of things I've done, mistakes I've made, where I used to be, what I overcame. You know a lot about my past, I didn't hide it from you, well, I tried at first." He flipped over his left arm, revealing the black dark mark, scowling at it. "The scars I keep for me, so I don't repeat the same mistakes, so I don't forget my failures." He looked over to me, my heart thumped at the serious expression on his face. "Or my triumphs." He held my gaze for a long moment, before turning away, his back to me. My heart fell, I thought I had let him down, that he had expected me to say something and when I said nothing he had taken it as rejection. I noticed thin slashes crisscrossing in different directions, overlapping and varying in lengths all over his lower back and upper portion of his backside that I could see. "A tribute to Tobias Snape and his belt."
I gasped. My stomach felt as if it were plunged into ice. I couldn't imagine someone treating Severus like that, especially not the small child version. "Severus." I whispered.
"He spent my whole childhood reminding me how useless I was, how I would never amount to anything, how no one would ever love me or care about me." He turned back to face me, his eyes held a nervousness that hadn't been there before. "I told you long ago that my father was tough, but what he did wasn't love. This is what I meant. He was not a good person and he scared me. Those scars on my back, I can't see them, but I know they're there. I did things he told me I would never be able to do. I built myself from nothing. I taught myself everything. Those marks are a symbol of all of the things I was told I was and I became everything contrary to them. I was told I was worthless, so I made myself valuable. His goal was to keep me down and I lifted myself up. I can't rid myself of my past, why would I get rid of the evidence of the injuries I've survived?"
"Why didn't you ever tell me any of this?" I asked, taking his hand with mine and threading our fingers together.
He held me with his eyes, they were dark, tired, and sad, when just a few short moments ago, they had been full of life, heat, and desire. I felt responsible for the change in attitude. Why did I always do this? Take happy, passion filled moments and take them to a serious, often sad place. I was instantly upset with myself for making him feel this way. I had hoped to be a respite from his troubles, not a cause.
He shook his head. "You were so young, I didn't want to scare you" He squeezed my hand. "And I was young and unnecessarily proud, I didn't want you to pity me." His voice was soft, his eyes lingered on my face. He leaned in slowly and touched his forehead to mine. I closed my eyes and felt his lips gently press against mine. He lingered but didn't deepen the kiss, it remained soft, closed, and chaste. His lips parted from mine, but only just. I felt them brush against my mouth as he whispered, "Do you pity me?"
I kept my eyes closed, feeling the presence of him, the warmth of his hand, his forehead pressed against mine, I felt his breath on my skin as he waited for an answer. I was sorry that he had such a parent. I thought of my own father, how he was someone I never feared, someone I felt compelled to seek comfort from when I was scared or hurt. I was sorry that he was afraid of a person who was meant to protect him. That he was abused by someone who was supposed to love him. I was proud of him for being able to rise above his situation and become a person who was capable of love, someone who felt protective of the children in his school, someone risking himself to save countless others, someone I loved completely and perfectly. I shook my head. His lips pressed to mine in response. My heart fluttered, but my eyes remained closed. I found I didn't want to open them, my eyelids felt too heavy.
"I'm tired." I whispered.
"I'm sorry, I'll go." I felt him move, his weight lifting off the bed and I tightened my grip on his hand, my eyes opening wide. He stopped, turning to face me.
"Stay." I whispered. Standing up, wrapping my arms around him, and resting my head on his chest. "Please."
We moved together to the head of the bed. He lifted the covers gesturing for me to get under them. I obeyed, sliding into the coolness of the unwarmed sheets. He slid in next to me, our bodies pressed against each other even though the bed was big enough for two. I rested my head against his chest, rising and falling with his breaths. His arm wrapped around my shoulders as he held me close. I was enveloped in his comforting, familiar scent. I was again struck by the feeling that this was how I wanted my life to be, just Severus and I.
I woke up to a rustling noise. I opened my eyes against the darkness of my chambers. I could just make out the silhouette of Severus pulling on his trousers. He wandered away from the bed, I heard a gentle scraping sound and he returned, wand in hand. He flicked his wand and a black garment flew into his hand. He began making repeated motions, a small clicking sound followed each movement. I noticed small black rounds raising off the ground and attaching themselves to the garment in his hand. I smiled to myself as I remembered the spell I had cast in my impatience.
"Where are you going?" I whispered, visibly startling him.
"I didn't mean to wake you." he responded, reattaching another button.
"Come back to bed." I suggested, patting the pillow where his head had been resting. "We can reattach your buttons when it's not so dark outside."
"It was damn near impossible to pry myself away from you the first time," he whispered, the smile audible in his voice. "I fear I won't be able to muster that sort of determination again, certainly not if I'm able to see you. I should go, anyway. I don't want to, once more, risk nearly being discovered by the heir of Susan."
"Am I going to go weeks without seeing you again?" I asked.
He paused his motion of reattaching buttons. "It wasn't weeks, don't be dramatic." he resumed flicking his wand. "And maybe. Every moment I am away from my office is a moment where a development with Potter could have happened and I missed it. Something is going to happen soon, I can feel it. But last night, I couldn't fight it anymore, I had to see you. I like to think of myself as strong, but when it comes to you, I am incredibly weak."
"What if tonight I visit you in your office?" I questioned. "Would I be turned away?"
"You will never be turned away." he whispered, the seriousness in his tone so strong it felt almost physical. "I just worry if you are careful enough to make the journey safely."
"Aren't I always?" I asked, my voice unable to hide a bit of laughter.
He paused again, even in the darkness I could see his smile. "Never."
