31. Poppy

I woke up to Poppy's familiar voice hovering around me like a thick fog. It took me a long time to come out of my sleep, or to remember where I was. I let my eyes open slowly and saw Poppy's face. She smiled when she saw I had come round, though the smile didn't reach her eyes.

"There you are, dear," she said. "Up you come."

As Poppy helped me to sit, I realised I was still holding my wand.

"Tried to take it from you while you slept, but it wouldn't budge. It's a good one," Poppy said.

I willingly set it down in order to drink some water, as well as take a couple of small vials of potion Poppy gave me. There was light in the windows, and with a glance at the clock on the wall I saw it was nearly noon. It was cloudy, but not raining, and there were pieces of naked sky showing through in places.

I remembered why I was here, and why there was a distant aching in my body, but I didn't cry. I was covered in a soothing numbness. It felt good to be cared for by Poppy. I didn't know what the examination had entailed, but I felt that the scratches on my back were gone, so it must have been quite comprehensive.

Severus wasn't anywhere in sight, but I could feel his presence somewhere in the house–perhaps in the kitchen.

"I brought these," Poppy said, carrying some folded clothes of mine from the chair in the corner. It seemed she had gone back to Hogwarts in the night, and brought them back. I was grateful to have them. I felt a bit awkward about having been wearing Sirius's dressing gown.

Poppy offered her help and company, but I politely declined. I would be alright by myself. I carried the clothes up to the loo, where I changed and washed my face. Afterward I folded the dressing gown and set it back in the drawer where I'd found it, in Sirius's bedroom.

"Sorry," I whispered, just in case, before closing the door.

Poppy had brought the chair alongside the couch when I went back downstairs, and there was a cup of steaming tea on the side table for me. Sitting next to it was a roll of parchment and a quill and ink. I saw in Poppy's eyes before she spoke a word what was coming next.

"You can say no, Wilma. But I think it would be good if you wrote down everything you can remember. Both Severus and I agree."

I felt a small bloom of panic in my chest at the prospect of reliving last night. I wanted to ignore it, to maintain my present numbness until it scarred over and I could move on.

"I understand it's very soon," said Poppy. "But I need to take everything to the Ministry, and it would help to have a testimony from you."

"What?" I said. "I don't want you to."

"Wilma–"

"Surely there's no point." I felt myself getting choked up, my body getting warmer. My numbness plan was clearly not going to last long.

"Of course there is," Poppy objected. Her voice was understanding, but not pitying, and I listened. "The Ministry is corrupt to the bone, but they will not overlook this. Especially given the contraceptive spell."

It hurt to be reminded of that detail–of any detail–but I appreciated her straightforwardness. I sensed the truth in her words. Though I didn't want to believe any of it had happened, I knew it had. And as Severus had insisted last night, Lucius deserved to be punished.

I sat down on the couch, and picked up the quill. My hand was shaking, but only a little. The parchment seemed to stretch out interminably. "What do I write?"

"Everything you can."

Poppy sat with me, a calming and patient presence, while I wrote down everything I could. It was a struggle. To call up the details in my mind, and then put them into words was enough. But to actually write them down, knowing they would be read was another matter altogether.

My hand was cramping by the time I'd finished it. All of the facts were there, as blunt as they could be, including the contraceptive spell and the family doctor healing my ribs. Perhaps if they got a testimony from him… But I doubted that the Malfoy mediwizard would tell the truth about the state I'd been in when I descended from his employer's room. The healing spell had likely been for the sake of protecting the Malfoy name, not out of sympathy for me, as it had seemed to be in the moment.

I handed over the parchment to Poppy, who put it into a bag she'd brought. "Thank you, Wilma," she told me sincerely, and then stood up. I watched her transfigure her cloak into a muggle coat, slip it on, and put the bag over her shoulder.

"Am I allowed to go home?" I asked. "Or do I have to stay here?"

Poppy looked at me with warm but strained eyes. "Of course you can go home. You don't need to do anything else. Not just yet, anyway. Except rest, get some exercise, and eat well. Severus?" She called his name in the direction of the kitchen. "I'm going." Then, with a reassuring backward glance, she went down the corridor.

I stood up to watch her leave through the door, stepping out into the cool sunlight. Then the door closed and it was dusty and dark again.

Guilt washed over me. She had seemed so upset. I remembered how thinly stretched she had been after the battle, and how she had still managed to care so tenderly for me. She had patched me up so well; surely she had expected me to take better care of myself. Now I'd gone and undone all of her work.

I realised because of a sudden cramping pain in my side that I was crying, and it was lighting up the aching in my ribs. I felt tears streaming down my face.

It had been nearly impossible to think of everything that had happened, to write it down. To my mind it felt hazy. But my body remembered it very deeply. I tried to block out the memory of Lucius's wickedness, his sharp thrusts, his fingers digging into my flesh, but it was impossible. I crossed one arm across my body to hold my searing side and pressed my mouth to my other hand as I silently sobbed.

Quiet footsteps sounded in the other room, and Severus emerged from the kitchen. He had changed out of his robes into muggle clothes, a dark turtleneck jumper and brown trousers. His eyes looked exhausted.

I lowered my gaze and shrank against the wallpaper, trying to fend off the pain and the tears, but failing. From his pocket he withdrew a handkerchief, cleaned it with a sweep of his hand, and offered it to me.

I nodded in gratitude and took it, wiping my eyes and my nose. A harsh sob made the pain piercing, and I whimpered. I tried to make my breathing shallow.

"Is it your side?" Severus asked.

"Y-yes," I whispered.

"May I?"

I nodded.

Approaching me carefully, he helped me to ease away from the wall, and then placed his broad hand over my ribs. The pain melted away completely, as it had last night when he'd used his wand. I trembled in relief and swayed a bit, limp and lightheaded. Severus steadied me, his hand on my back. My weak body sank forward into him, and then without realising what I was doing, it had become an embrace. My arms wrapped around his back, feeling his slow breath, my ear picking up on his heartbeat. To my surprise Severus didn't push me away, but returned the embrace. The pressure of his arms made my tears stop. It was a relief to be held.

But then, as my full awareness returned, I recoiled slightly, withdrawing from his body and feeling my face coldly drain. It had been healing for my body to have contact that didn't involve violence, but my mind couldn't process it so simply. I felt guilty, like I had done something wrong, something pitiful and disgusting.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, and slipped past him into the kitchen, needing an escape, and a glass of water.

I shook my head at myself, mortified, as I summoned a glass from the cabinet. What had I been thinking?

While water poured from my wand, I saw that the letter from the Ministry was lying open on the kitchen table. Severus must have been reading it. I picked it up and saw that the paper was wrinkled from tears. He'd cried over it? I felt another wave of guilt rock through my stomach.

"Do you want to keep it?" Severus asked. He was standing in the doorway, watching me closely.

"No," I said, acting as though I hadn't noticed the evidence of the tears.

I felt a rueful smile enter my face as I realised just exactly what I wished to do with the letter.

He made way for me as I walked back through to the parlour, and placed the letter decisively into the fire. I watched it blacken and curl slowly in the flames. As I watched I saw a flash of the green flames in Lucius's room. I winced and screwed my eyes shut, my heart thudding. Not real, I heard my wand say. Bravely I opened my eyes again and watched the letter until it was completely gone.

I felt Severus's gaze from behind me, and turned to look at him.

"Thank you," I started.

But he glanced away. "I won't hear a word of it."

I wanted to protest but I could see from the tension in his posture that I should keep quiet. I wondered if the day would ever come when he allowed me to show him the gratitude he deserved.

I looked at the couch, at the windows, and felt a mingling gratitude for the place, and a readiness to leave it. There was too much pain here. My heart suddenly yearned for the simplicity of the Burrow.

"I'd like to go home now," I heard myself confess, my voice very tired. "I'll go on broomstick." I didn't want to burden him any further.

"You shouldn't," Severus objected. He seemed hesitant to do so, and spoke delicately. "Will you apparate with me instead?"

"Alright," I agreed. It would be faster, and I had to admit that going by broom could be dangerous. I didn't want the pain flaring up again in midair. Besides, I wasn't very confident in the broom's ability after last night.

He stood there, holding out his hand, waiting for me. I pointed my wand at the fire, and it went out. I picked up my cloak and wrapped it firmly around my arm. Then I went to Severus, and my hand closed around his.

I felt the familiar unpleasant jolt as we apparated. My body burned and stretched, and then returned to its proper proportions as we landed. My eyes hurt as they took in surprisingly bright sunlight, and my shoulder ached slightly.

Still holding desperately to Severus's hand, I was hit by a sudden wave of nausea. I dropped my cloak, took a stumbling step, bent over, and was sick.

I vaguely felt Severus holding my hair back. My body rippled one more time, but nothing more came up. I spit and stood up, my head humming highly. "I'm fine," I said. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and looked up. Across the short winter grass of the meadow, Molly was coming through the open kitchen doorway, a wind blowing her hair and her apron as she hurried out to us.

"Wilma?" she said, her voice edging on panic. I couldn't respond, still catching my breath, convincing myself that I didn't need to be sick again. Molly turned her questioning eyes on Severus. "Did something happen to my daughter?"

Molly led us inside and I allowed Severus to assist me onto the couch. I recovered from my dizziness, sipping slowly at a glass of water.

"Is someone going to tell me what happened?" Molly said.

I felt my face go blank, and looked at Severus helplessly. He saw the silent plea in my eyes and his chin dropped in a slow nod.

"Molly," he said. "Follow me for a moment."

Her eyes widened, but she followed Severus outside. I was torn. I didn't want her to know, but she needed to. Now that I was alone I let my head sink between my knees. My heartbeat slowly evened, and the sour taste in my mouth was fading. I could overhear Severus's low voice speaking, then a gasp from Molly, a high protest. Then Severus spoke again. I thought I heard Molly crying, but it might have been the wind.

When they came back inside she was composed, but behind her eyes was a deep sadness. "I'm sorry, mum," I whispered.

Molly shook her head speechlessly for a moment. "Now, now. There's absolutely no need for you to be sorry. It wasn't your fault, it was all the doing of that wicked snake." I now saw her composedness falling away to bitter anger. "If Bill had known–"

"Molly," Severus said softly. I had gone pale.

Molly took a deep breath. "It's alright, dear. It wasn't your fault. Not a bit of it."

I shook my head slowly, and started crying again, holding my head in my hands. They were lovely words, but I still didn't believe them.

Molly came to me and very carefully touched my shoulder. I didn't flinch but melted into her touch, and let her hold me against her chest, stroking my face.

Severus offered to make tea, and disappeared into the kitchen. He returned once I'd stopped crying, holding out a warm mug which I took in both hands.

"I think I should see how Poppy's faring," he said.

Molly nodded, her arm still wrapped around me. "Thank you, Severus," she said.

"Not at all."

I felt that I should say something, but I was speechless, and he was already gone. I turned and watched him through the window as he went out into the meadow, and disappeared.