NOTE

WARNING: The majority of this chapter will focus on miscarriage. It will be more explicit than the one in chapter 26. There will be pain, and there will be contractions. If you don't want to read it, please skip from when Poppy and Wilma enter the bedroom, to the next scene separator. What comes before Poppy's arrival does centre around the realisation at the end of the previous chapter as well, and may be upsetting.

There are also quite a few flashbacks to the attack in the last chapter, though they are not explicit.

Take care of yourselves, loves, and you have all of my good thoughts. Please do let me know if there's ever anything I miss in the content warnings, or if I can improve them/make them more detailed.

73. By the Sea

Blue… the colour of tears…

Severus kept his wand against my belly as though he didn't understand what he was seeing. Then his body tightened slightly. I sensed it, despite the space between us.

I knew I should have been crying, but I felt nothing.

I just kept staring silently at the wall.

There was only the sound of the wind and the sea outside. Ginny and Molly had continued sipping their tea and preparing food, and the small moment between myself and Severus had gone unnoticed. It felt as though it wasn't real.

Severus set his wand down on the table. "You need to take these now." His voice was deep and tense.

I shook my head. I couldn't even look at the vials. The thought of swallowing made me nauseous.

"They are going to help your throat. I need you to take them."

"I can't swallow." I hated the sound of my voice. It didn't sound like me at all. It was hoarse and weak and thin.

"You need to." There was a commanding edge to Severus's voice.

I was silent for a moment, feeling my heart thudding in my chest. "What will they do?" I whispered. I would have been able to identify the potions if I'd looked at them, but I still didn't want to.

He spoke firmly, but his tone wasn't condescending. "One is to soothe your muscles, one is for infection, and the third is for pain." I kept staring at the wall, hearing what he was saying but not fully processing it. "Wilma. Please."

"Listen to Severus, dear…"

The voice was Molly's and it still had that tone of attempted gentleness and normalcy, as though nothing horrible had happened, nothing soul-shattering and destructive.

Something in her tone made me switch off. I watched my hand as it picked up the first potion, and my other hand as it numbly lifted to uncork it. I pressed the tiny glass rim to my lips and tipped the contents of the vial into my mouth. I felt the cold sharp liquid on my tongue, and my throat constricted, but I wouldn't waste the potion. I clenched my eyes shut and winced as I forced myself to swallow. I breathed painfully, a small and quiet gasp before I set the empty vial down and took the next.

I kept going, unaware of the other people in the room until I was finished, three vials sitting empty on the table in front of me.

"Thank you," Severus said. I watched his hand collect the empty vials, and had to look at the wall again.

What we had just discovered came back to me very softly, like a child knocking at the door. I remembered the wand tip glowing blue. I knew it was not a dream, even though it felt like it should be. It was terribly real. I looked down at my hands, where they had returned to my lap, trying to process how it had happened. I wanted some sweeping emotion to overtake me. But I couldn't feel anything at all.

"Why am I not bleeding?" I whispered, after a long moment.

Molly looked over with a sharpness in her eyes. Then the sharpness ebbed. The room became very quiet, and Ginny appeared as though she might cry, her lips slightly parted in shock. I heard muffled voices as I looked down at my lap again. I didn't want to know what was being said about this. About me.

I did not feel or hear anything for a long time.

Then I felt a cool hand on my shoulder.

I flinched slightly, but the hand stayed, increasing its pressure, and I found that I didn't necessarily want it to go away. I looked up, dragging my heavy mind out of the fog, and saw Poppy's face looking down at me. She had set a small bag on the table, and was looking at my eyes patiently. "Can you hear me?"

I realised that Severus was still sitting in the chair next to me. I felt his eyes watching, his ears waiting.

"Yes," I said to Poppy, my voice small and rough. I remembered the hard grains of sand rubbing my hands raw and blinked hard.

Poppy's face was guarded, gentle but knowledgeable and firm. Much as it had been when she had come to examine me in Grimmauld Place. I trusted her. I just wanted her to take care of me; to take care of it all while I slept through it. I remembered how capable she'd been with Remus after his transformations. Maybe it could be like that.

Her hand was still cool and calm on my shoulder. "Do you understand what is going on, Miss Weasley?"

"No," I said. I felt my emotions stepping back, like ocean waters lowering, leaving my rational mind to take control. "Why am I not bleeding."

Poppy's hand slightly increased pressure on my shoulder. "We are going to have to start the process ourselves. It would be easiest if you let me brew you tea. I will steep it with wormwood and rue. If you drink it, the bleeding will start." She looked at me, her eyes balanced between consideration and professionalism. "We don't have to do it right away. You can wait."

I shook my head. I didn't want to wait. I wanted it over with.

"Do you want me to brew it now?" Poppy asked.

I nodded my head. The slightest movement made me feel dizzy. Poppy's hand left my shoulder and she began taking vials and bottles out of the bag on the table. I watched her fill and heat the black kettle, tapping her wand against its side with a hollow sound.

My hand was still partly numb as I pressed it gently against my lower belly. I looked down. I should have felt something. Guilt. Anger. Something. But I was just… looking down.

Severus's hand touched my shoulder silently, as the bubbling sound of the boiling water filled the small kitchen. I didn't flinch away this time. I could barely even feel his touch.

The kettle whistled, and Poppy put a combination of herbs in. While the tea steeped, she returned to me, and put her hand on my shoulder again, to make sure I was listening. I looked at the collar of her shirt rather than her eyes.

"You might be more comfortable in a bedroom," she said. "So you can lie down if you need to. I've had Mr. Weasley prepare one of the upstairs rooms, if you'd like to go up there now."

"Is Arthur here?" I heard myself say.

"No, dear. Your brother Bill."

"Oh."

Bill and George must have returned from delivering Rookwood to the Ministry.

I realised for the first time that Poppy, Severus and I were the only people in the kitchen. "Where did everyone go?"

"To another room, dear. Do you want to go upstairs?"

I nodded my head.

Poppy replaced the jars of herbs in her bag, and carried it in the crook of her elbow. She levitated the kettle in the air with her wand, as well as a small white teacup from one of the cabinets.

I stood up.

Severus's hand reached out and touched my own, his fingers gently pressing mine. "Do you want me with you?"

I couldn't feel his presence… he was just a disembodied voice. I shook my head no.

He pressed my hand again before letting it go, and did not speak again.

"Come along, dear," Poppy said.

I went out of the kitchen and to the stairs which led up to the bedrooms. I stood at the foot of the wooden stairs, feeling as though I wouldn't be able to climb them.

"Easy does it," Poppy said. She was still making the kettle hover behind me. I stepped onto the first step, and slowly made my way upstairs. "On the right," Poppy said.

I stopped at the top of the stairs for a moment, looking through the open door of Bill and Fleur's bedroom. I was overtaken by the physical memory of standing here, watching Fleur cradle and sing to the newborn Victoire weeks ago. I thought of Teddy and Victoire sitting on the blanket in front of the kitchen fire in the safe house, and felt a sinking feeling in my belly.

You shouldn't have left.

Idiot.

I looked numbly away from the doorway, and walked into the room on the right.

There were shells embedded in the walls. Grey light came through the diamond-mullioned window. An unlit white candle sat on the bedside table beside a jar of sea glass. The bed looked tall and intimidating.

Poppy stepped in behind me and quietly closed the door. She set her bag on the chair by the bed. The kettle lowered down onto the bedcovers, and the little white teacup landed on its side.

I stared at it.

Poppy was rifling in the bag. "I want you to put this on, dear…" She offered me a folded cloth pad. "It's charmed so that the blood will disappear instantly. That way you don't have to sit on the toilet, and you don't have to see anything. Do you want to use it?" I nodded, and she placed it in my hands. "Go ahead and slip it into your knickers, dear."

I nodded, and she turned her head as I tugged down my trousers, still soaked from the knee down from the sea. I pulled my knickers down enough to slide the pad along the fabric, and then pulled them up again. My shirt was long and reached to my thighs, so I decided not to put my trousers back on.

"You can pace, or sit… whatever you need," Poppy said. She remained businesslike, but for the first time something like pity entered her eyes. I looked at the white teacup as she spoke. It looked so small and sad.

"You're nine weeks along, so… it's about the size of a cherry. You will not have to push. But you might have contractions. Do you understand?"

I turned my head to one side to indicate no…

Poppy's voice was patient and factual. "Your uterus is probably going to squeeze a bit, to help push the clots out. It might feel like you're having bad menstrual cramps."

I nodded. I remembered how it had hurt at the beginning of my last miscarriage, but figured that it would be worse this time, because I was further along. I still didn't completely understand what to expect–I was dissociating too much–but I wanted it over with, and I didn't want to hear any more details.

"Are you ready for the tea, dear?"

I nodded again.

Poppy patted the edge of the bed and I sat down there while she poured the little white cup full of tea. It was steaming. I felt my throat clench as I realised I would have to swallow it… but Severus's potions had made my throat feel a little better. I knew I could manage it.

Poppy handed me the cup and I held it between my hands, looking down at it. The steam curled against my face.

"Take your time, dear," Poppy said.

I lifted the cup as thought it weighed much more than it did. I felt the hot tea against my lips, and took the first mouthful. It tasted extremely bitter, with a strange sharp edge. I held it in my mouth for a moment, and then winced as I swallowed. It went directly to my stomach, and I felt its heat there. I took another mouthful, and another. Soon the teacup was empty. Poppy took it again and I sat very still, waiting to feel something.

"I'm going to give you more," Poppy said.

She filled the teacup again and I took it.

Only after draining four cups, one after another, did I feel a sudden flash of pain across my lower back.

I gasped, and my wrist went limp. The empty teacup fell to the bed.

"That's it, dear," Poppy said evenly. "One more."

I stared at the floor, my vision blurry. The pain was searing and throbbing. Poppy handed me the cup again. I felt my stomach clench, but I took it, and drank it all. My eyes were burning with tears as Poppy took the cup again.

My breath was shaky and slow as my body adjusted to the pain. There was the slightest squeezing feeling inside of me, and I felt something moving uncomfortably downward. Anxiety made me stand up and walk around the bed, hunching my shoulders and moving very slowly. I leaned against the back of the chair, crouched around the aching. I felt the blood starting, and a low moan was pulled out of me.

Poppy's hands were buried in her bag, and emerged holding a flask. She poured its clear contents into the teacup and held it out to me. "This is a powerful pain relief potion."

I looked at the white teacup. It had a tiny menacing glint on its edge from the grey light at the window. I shook my head. I was going to be sick if I had to swallow again.

"I suggest you take it," Poppy said carefully.

I shook my head again and she put the cup down on the bedside table. "You can have it whenever you want. Just tell me."

The pain only became worse.

Soon it had coiled and tightened around my waist, and started to wrap around my hips and upper thighs as well. The whole middle of my body was burning up with aching, throbbing agony.

"Your body knows what to do," Poppy said, as I felt an awful involuntary flexing in my lower belly. "All you have to do is breathe, Wilma." She stayed there quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me carefully in case I needed her.

I soon felt weak and faint. Sweat had broken out under my shirt, and my fingers trembled as they undid the top few buttons. My mind was far away as I pressed my hands into the bed and knelt down on the floor, feeling something thicker than blood pushing itself out of me. I pressed my hands and my forehead into the edge of the bed, and finally shattered, sobbing into the blankets.

Emotion entered me, a tempest of sadness and anger and shame. I felt disgusting. My body was trembling uncontrollably, and the tensing made me feel sick.

Poppy's voice came through the fog. "Do you want the potion now?"

All of my muscles tensed at once, and I looked at the window, feeling hopeless. My shaky voice came out of me between sobs. "I need Severus."

Poppy left the bed, and I heard her footsteps crossing to the door. She opened it with a quiet creaking sound that raked across my brain like talons.

For a minute I was alone. And then two pairs of footsteps sounded on the stairs. I felt Poppy's weight on the edge of the bed as my hands gripped the blankets, and then I felt Severus's presence as he knelt down on the floor beside me. His voice was like a salve. "I'm here. Do you want to be touched?"

But I was already clinging to him, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck and crying into his chest. He pressed his hands against my lower back, and I felt him trying to ease the pain with his magic. It wasn't working.

I felt the awful clenching again, and tensed up. My sobs caught in my throat and I went silent, holding my breath. A tiny grunt was forced through my throat; a pitiful sound.

"Breathe through the contractions, dear," Poppy instructed.

I feebly managed to breathe again. It made the pain worse, but it was over faster.

"Contractions?" Severus said, his voice pale and quiet.

Poppy spoke reasonably. "It's late enough that she needs a bit of help."

I felt another clot, and gave a groan of pain and anger. My breath came out in weak panting gasps as the fiery pain reached another peak. I couldn't do anything but sob and shake and hold onto Severus. "It hurts…" I whimpered. "It hurts… it hurts…"

"Is there nothing we can give her?" came Severus's voice.

"I tried to give her something. She wouldn't take it."

"...hand it to me, please."

One of his hands left my back as he took the teacup and brought it around towards me. I closed my eyes and pressed my face into his shirt. No…

He spoke slowly. "Wilma. I need you to drink this."

I shook my head.

"Wilma." His thumb touched my jaw, his fingers supporting the back of my neck, hot and sweating under my hair. He eased my face away from the darkness of his shirt and I squinted at the white teacup. His voice was gentle, but demanding. "Wilma. Open your mouth."

Open your mouth, girl.

I shook my head violently.

"Wilma…" The teacup grew closer.

I gripped his wrist and pushed his hand away. "Stop!" I whispered.

He stopped, reluctantly.

The teacup was taken by Poppy, and I pushed my face into Severus's chest again. I was shivering and shaking from the pain… but at this moment I would die before I swallowed something. I was sure that if I did, my whole body would slip out of its skin.

Time moved by like a glacier that was pressing down on top of me. Severus put a heavy blanket over my back and it helped my shivering a little. I felt too heavy to move, and wound up crouching on the floor, focusing on my breathing while Severus sat behind me and rubbed my lower back.

"Pomfrey," Severus said, minutes later. I listened, through the thick fog of my pain, and knew from his tone of voice what he was going to say. "This is not the first time."

There was a moment of silence, as Poppy understood.

"When?" she asked.

"She was pregnant when Lupin left. It happened about two weeks afterward."

A pause. Poppy sighed gently. "Alright," she said. "I will have to report it of course. Along with this one."

And then there was silence again.

I thought perhaps Severus shouldn't have told. But I knew he'd needed to say something, in case I was in danger and Poppy needed to know. I wasn't afraid of the consequences. I had a feeling the Ministry wouldn't care, at this point, that Severus and I had kept my first miscarriage a secret. If they saw fit to punish us, the retribution wouldn't come until the mess of the Azkaban breakout had been cleared up. And in this moment of extreme pain, it seemed unlikely that it ever would.

It went on for hours.

I eventually accepted the potion, when the pain began to outweigh my fear of swallowing. Severus held the teacup against my bottom lip and I sipped desperately, coughing after I'd finally forced it down.

It was only slightly better then. I still felt the awful clenching, and the pressure, and the bleeding. The contractions were still hot, but the burning was less severe.

I laid down on the bed when my body became too exhausted for the floor, and tightly hugged one of the pillows, feeling weak and drained. Finally evening came, the sky turning a dark and dusky purple over the sea. And a handful of minutes passed without another contraction. My sweat slowly dried on my skin. I was still shivering feverishly, still bleeding heavily, but I'd already passed the worst of the clots. I felt hollow, and stared at the fading light on the wall, my arms loose and limp around the coolness of the pillow.

Severus pressed his hand against my ribs. "May I lay down with you?"

His voice was exhausted, hoarse and stretched in its deepness.

He'd not left my side once, continually adjusting to my restlessly changing positions, holding me, trying to ease my pain, letting me tremble and cry and groan and pull on his hair.

"Yes," I murmured.

The bed dipped as he climbed in beside me, and carefully shifted closer. His knees pressed into the backs of my legs and his arm wrapped around me, pulling my shoulder blades against his chest.

I felt so small and empty.

His hands pressed into my body, against my ribs through my sweat-soaked shirt, against my naked thighs. I felt his magic flowing into me, attempting to replenish my strength, keeping me from losing consciousness. I lay there and let him hold me. Slowly my teeth stopped chattering. And the cold numbness in my belly faded to complete and very welcome numbness.

"You need to sleep, now," Poppy said.

I heard her looking through her bag. She walked around the bed and held a vial of purple dreamless sleep in her palm. I shut my eyes.

Every one of my visions had exhausted me. They were anything but pleasant. But now I saw that they were the only thing I could do. The only thing I could contribute. My one purpose and my one escape. If I took the potion and missed something important…

I shook my head, but Poppy overrode my will. "No," she said firmly. "Tonight, you sleep."

She uncorked the potion and I was too weak to protest as Severus helped me turn my head just enough to swallow the bitter purple potion.

My head became instantly heavy. Severus's hand pressed into my lower belly and I felt the ache and the uncomfortable stirring ebbing away as my eyes slowly closed.

I heard Poppy's voice distantly, muffled and quiet. "Thank you, Severus… We will keep her asleep until the bleeding's stopped."

Then soft wings of dark sleep folded around me, and I was taken away.

For a very long time there was only darkness. And then, there was a dream.

I was running down the stairs of Gryffindor Tower, my hair messy and my socks mismatched. My black students' robes flew out behind me in my haste.

I was late, and I inwardly cursed over and over as my feet flew down the stairs.

I came to the bottom of the tower and ran over the flagstones under the stone arcade surrounding the transfiguration courtyard. Warm spring light flooded through the arches and the air was cool and warm at once.

The school felt strangely empty. Everyone else must have been shut away behind the classroom doors… But no voices could be heard behind them.

I reentered the chilly stone darkness of the castle and raced down the tapestry corridor and into the entryway. My shoes skidded on the stone floor as I turned into the dungeon stairway, and hurried down, sure to skip the fifth step.

I reached the door to the potions classroom and stood there for a moment, gathering my heavy breath before quietly opening the door, cringing already as I expected to disturb the class.

But none of my classmates were sitting there. The desks and tables were empty, and the cauldrons were dark and smokeless. The sound of my heartbeat seemed to fill the dark, sunless room.

Professor Snape was sitting behind his desk. He looked up when I entered, his face cold and still with disdain. I twisted my hands in front of me as he judged my mismatched socks, my windswept hair, my red face.

"Class has ended, Miss Weasley. I hope you have a worthy excuse for your absence."

I stood there frozen. I had no worthy excuse, so I kept quiet.

His dark eyes watched my face, black and emotionless. Only a faint echo of satisfaction at my inability to respond.

I looked down at my shoes.

"Well?" he demanded.

"I'm sorry, sir."

"You can be sorry whilst serving detention."

He pointed carelessly to something behind me, already looking down at the papers he was marking.

"You will dissect all of those, Miss Weasley."

I didn't turn around.

I know what those were.

"Sir…" I was hoping he would allow me to clean the blackboard instead, or scrub cauldrons.

He glanced up from his work, his face tight with annoyance. "Turn around. Look."

I was silent, my whole body tense.

Snape sneered. "Or are you too fragile?"

I couldn't protest.

He stood up and strode around his desk, his black robes swishing. He looked stern, his short temper threatening to overtake him. I kept myself from stepping back. His voice was incredulous.

"You will do as I say, Miss Weasley, or it will be detention for the rest of the month. Do I make myself clear?"

But I just couldn't do it.

He watched me sharply and I slowly shook my head.

I trembled as I stared at my shoes. I expected him to force me. But he did not. He considered me silently for a long and airless moment.

"Very well," he intoned.

He stepped back. And a strange look entered his eyes.

Pained.

As though I had somehow betrayed him.

I woke up in the morning-time, but sensed I had slept much longer than a single night. My body was weak and curled against Severus. My eyes were staring blearily forward at his neck. I saw the tiny white lines of the scars from Nagini. I blinked slowly.

My hair was dirty. My body was dirty. I was still wearing the same shirt, and felt Poppy's cloth pad between my legs. It felt thick and warm and nasty, even though it was completely dry. I blinked again, harder, to erase the unpleasant feeling of the distant dream.

Severus's breath changed slightly, and his hand pressed against the centre of my back, where my spine protruded achily. I opened my eyes and saw the soft movement of his adam's apple as he swallowed.

"Are you awake?"

I couldn't say anything. It felt like my throat had been glued closed by the many, many hours of sleep.

There was a cool shifting movement elsewhere in the room, and I sensed Poppy standing up from the chair by the bed. She walked around so that she could look at me, and my eyes slowly moved to hers.

"Good morning," she said calmly. "Severus, would you help her sit up, please…"

My body was soft and puppet-like as Severus's arms wrapped around me, his hands gently pushing and pulling until I was sat on the edge of the bed, my ankles dangling. He held me back against his body.

Poppy's eyes were a clear grey-blue as she looked at me. "Wilma, I need to check the bleeding."

I nodded.

I looked at the overcast sky outside the window, and the sea stretching out underneath it. Did the sky and sea ever wish they could touch each other? Once?

Poppy gently shuffled my knickers down my thighs. I could feel Severus's chest moving slightly with his breath behind my back. "Good," Poppy said. "All done."

I felt my knickers being gently tugged up again. They felt thin and cool, and I realised that Poppy had taken back her magic cloth.

Thank Merlin.

I swallowed dryly, and coaxed my voice to life. "How long has it been?"

"Three days," Poppy said, as she closed her bag and slid it into the crook of her elbow.

I looked down at my knee, as though it were some distant planet viewed through a telescope. I'd had no visions. Just that stupid dream. Beneath the layers of numbness and exhaustion, I felt angry that I'd been allowed to lose so much time. It was now the tenth of November, and the full moon was only thirteen days away.

But the lump in my throat and that slightly suffocating feeling of Severus's breathing kept me from expressing my feelings.

"I need to return to St. Mungo's," Poppy was saying. "Wilma, you need to ensure that you sleep every night. You don't have to take the potion again, but you must sleep a total of at least six hours, undisturbed." She looked at me rather sternly and I nodded my head weakly.

Poppy walked across the room to the door, leaving my frame of vision. "No heavy exercise, and no intercourse for two weeks," she said.

My mind let the word intercourse fall through it like sand through a sieve.

"Severus," Poppy said. "A warm bath, and as much water as she can swallow. Send me your patronus if anything changes."

I felt Severus nod his head, and then Poppy went out the door, shutting it with a soft click.

There was silence in the room, and numbness. Severus was very still, holding me loosely against him. I could still feel his breathing.

Had he stayed in bed with me for three days?

I stared at the window pane. The shells in the walls. The soft white curtains.

I remembered the dream. My inability to do what he wanted.

I remembered how he'd touched my belly that night. When I'd been unable to sleep; when my candle had blown out in the wind. Did it ever cross your mind… that I might want the child?

I swallowed, and the feeling was raw and sore.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Stop."

He spoke with exhaustion, his tone as far from snapping as it could be. His fingers tightened gently around my waist.

"Listen to me. This was not your fault. None of it."

I nodded numbly. But secretly I imagined him telling me how I believed he really felt. You should have done as I asked! You should have stayed put! You should never have stepped foot outside that door!

I felt my breath snag in my throat and my eyes watered. Severus felt it too and his hands softened. I held my breath a moment, until I was certain I would not cry. Then I exhaled.

"I feel dirty," I whispered.

Severus carefully rested one hand on my shoulder. "Why don't I run a bath."

We both knew that I wasn't only speaking of my body. But the thought of the warm bath Poppy had recommended made me feel a bit more relaxed. I nodded my head and Severus helped me to stand, keeping his hands underneath mine as I wobbled slightly.

"We will take our time," he said.

I waited until my dizziness subsided, and then took a careful step. The floor was flat, but I felt as though it would tilt or splinter at any moment. Severus kept hold of my hands, and soon we were in the doorway of the small ensuite. He held onto my waist and slipped the door closed with his other hand. He stood in front of me and I stared past his arm at the sink, the silver taps, the shell-shaped bar of soap.

"May I unbutton you?"

I nodded.

His fingers carefully undid the buttons of my shirt, and he slipped the fabric off my shoulders, so carefully, as though my skin had been torn off, and he knew it would sting.

His fingertips touched the fabric of my knickers over my hips. "May I take these off?"

I nodded again.

He knelt down as he slipped them off, and I looked down at myself, my nakedness, for the first time since before the attack. Bruises bloomed across my belly like dark flowers from where Lucius had kicked me. I looked at them in disgust. They were a dark, dusty black-blue, with a sickly grey around the edges.

Severus looked at me guardedly. "Are there any on my throat?" I rasped.

"Yes," he said, averting his eyes. "I will make you something later. They will fade more quickly."

I stared down at myself while Severus filled the bath.

He held out his hand and I gripped it tightly as I stepped over the porcelain edge. He held onto my elbows to steady me as I sank down, slow and trembling, into the clear, warm water. He touched my shoulder gently and handed me the shell-shaped bar of soap. I took it in my hands and held it safely just above the surface of the water, staring at my knees.

"Breathe," he said softly.

I breathed, and I felt the warmth of the water a bit more. He knelt down and stayed beside me quietly as I dipped my hands into the water and started washing my forearms with the soap. It felt like there were layers and layers of grime and sweat on my skin, and the feeling of the soap made me feel cool and relieved. I let out a low sigh, on the edge of weeping.

I lathered my hands with the soap and washed my neck, and under my arms. Severus gently took the soap and shifted my hair over my shoulder, wetting his hands and rubbing my shoulders and my back with the soap. I leaned forward, hugging my knees. He carefully lifted palmfuls of water and rinsed the soap away. I felt the cool air on my back, and the warmth of his hands.

"Would you like me to wash your hair?" he said quietly.

It felt thick and coarse with sweat and oil. I should have been mortified by the thought of him running his fingers through it. But I wasn't. "Yes, please," I breathed.

He summoned a jar of shampoo. I let my eyes close, just listening to the quiet sound of the water against my skin. Severus gently rubbed the shampoo into my hair, starting around my ears and forehead, and working his way down to the ends. His hands were nervous at the start, as though he were afraid his touch would cause my skull to shatter. Gradually his fingers became warmer and firmer, more confident and gentle. They rubbed against my scalp, taking away the itchiness. My hair was very tangled from the long sleep, and he worked through the knots with patience. He ran his fingers through the clean strands behind my ear and there was a little snag from a tangle he hadn't noticed. "Sorry," he said.

"It's okay." I'd winced a little, but it was good to know that I could still feel something.

After a few minutes, my hair was heavy and soft with suds. Severus lowered an empty white pitcher into the bath and filled it with some of the warm water. His fingertips gently touched under my chin and I tilted my head back, closing my eyes and holding my breath on instinct as he poured the water slowly over my scalp. My lips parted slightly. It was warm and gentle, and I felt surprisingly… good.

"Can you get a bit closer to the water?" he asked. I sank lower into the bath, my toes pressing against the end of the tub. He held the back of my neck gently as he rinsed the rest of the shampoo out of my hair. I looked at him as he worked, and his dark eyes flickered carefully to mine, and then away. We were silent for a moment as he continued to rinse my hair. We had not properly looked at each other since… since…

I lifted one of my hands, dripping, from the tub, and touched his cheek.

He looked at me again, and his eyes reflected everything I felt. Wariness, tenderness, relief, anger, worry, fear…

"Thank you," I said quietly.

His hand softly held the back of my head. He didn't say a word. But I felt understood. He held my gaze for a moment. Then he looked away and continued running his hands through my hair under the soapy water.

A sound interrupted the quiet peace of the moment.

Footsteps were running quickly up the wooden stairs, and then someone was knocking on the bathroom door.

"Yes?" Severus said, rather roughly.

The door creaked open, a crack at first, and then opened fully.

It was Ginny. Her eyes were shining and her cheeks were flushed as she stood in the doorway. I could practically feel her blood humming, her heart pounding. She looked how she always used to when Harry was about to arrive at the Burrow to visit. But now her breathlessness was laced with panic.

"I'm sorry," she said, seeing that she had intruded upon a private moment. Her voice was quivering.

She looked at me.

I looked at her.

Despite all that had happened, my heart began to race with a sudden surge of adrenaline.

"What, Ginny?" I asked, gripping the edge of the tub with white knuckles.

She took a shallow breath and then spoke.

"It's Lupin. He's walking up the beach."

NOTE

I've been so awful to Wilma in these past two chapters, and I really do apologise. Thank you so much for persevering, as I know these were probably difficult to read.

As always you're welcome to share your thoughts, even if it's just "Bruv."