NOTE

WARNING: There will be explicit descriptions of sexual violence in this chapter. I decided after writing this chapter that I needed to change the story rating from mature to explicit.

The worst of it is between "My body was a shirt hung out to dry in a hard and bitter wind," (I've italicised it), and the following scene separator.

72. Web

I spent the day circling the area just east of the tiny village, dark pine woods similar to the Forbidden Forest, the snow coming down freezing and thin between the pointed treetops. Tiny animals scurried, just out of sight, and birds chirped for an hour around noon before falling quiet again. Hours passed, and there was no sign of Severus.

I was beginning to lose faith by the time the sun started sinking. The sky, which had been a pearly hue all day long, was now turning a darker grey. I found a small lake, its water obsidian in the falling night, its waves gently licking the pebble shore. I pulled open the drawstring bag and summoned the now empty flask I'd been sipping from all day. I filled it with a soft gurgling sound and cast a purifying charm on it. Perhaps I should send Severus a patronus. He would be infuriated that I had left the safe house, of course. But there would have been no point in risking my safety if I never found him.

I sat on a rock and sipped the cold fresh water, my cloak wrapped tightly against the chilly wind and snow, looking at the wall of dark green trees which climbed the hill on the other side of the lake.

A dark figure emerged from the trees.

For a moment I was afraid. My heart skipped a beat and I choked on the water I'd just half-inhaled.

Then my eyes focused, and I saw that it was Severus.

Relief flooded my body and mind. All of the exhaustion of the day, the hours of walking, was worth it. I stood up, still coughing and holding the back of my hand to my mouth. I lifted my other hand in greeting.

He did not reflect the gesture.

The lake was just large enough that I couldn't make out his expression, but his face was pale, partly shrouded by his black hair, and his stillness radiated danger. I watched him, suddenly wary, and afraid that I may have made a mistake in my judgement. But, no. It was certainly Severus.

A harsh wind came across the water and my hand dropped slightly. How long was he going to stand there?

My question was answered when, very suddenly, he was right in front of me. He'd apparated across the lake, and I gasped and stumbled backward at his abrupt and very close presence. His eyes were sharp and infuriated, and he was pointing his wand at my chest.

"The last note I left for you," he said, his voice stern and grating.

I was still wheezing from the cold water which I'd inhaled. But he seemed immune to my coughing, gritting his teeth and taking a step forward. "Stop spluttering and answer the question."

I put my hand up in self-defence, feeling strangely guilty. My breath rattled in my chest as I drew in enough to speak. "Stay here please," I said unsteadily, and then coughed again, more lightly.

The look of hostility was slowly leached from his features. I recovered my breath as he put his wand back into a hidden pocket, and actually pressed his fingertips to his hairline in agitation. A low rumble of distress sounded in his throat.

"Admit it," I said, my voice slightly hoarse. "You knew it was only a matter of time."

Scowling deeply, he looked up at me. "This is a prime example of the idiocy so frequently demonstrated by members of your house."

"Idiocy?" I repeated. On another day, I might have been slightly amused by his short tirade. I might have even found it endearing. But seeing as I had just spent hours walking through a cold and potentially dangerous forest in order to find him, I couldn't help but take issue with his tone.

"Yes, Wilma. You are, from time to time, an idiot."

Anger fluttered in my chest. "And you're–" I stopped myself, instead clenching my fists and my jaw. "Never mind."

A challenging spark lit up in Severus's eyes. "Say it."

"No," I said. "I wouldn't really mean it."

His mouth twitched and he blinked, wincing. "And preposterously proud, as well."

Preposterously proud? I wanted to retort. But instead I quelled my fiery spirit and said, simply, "I'm not going to argue with you."

Severus looked furious at this. I realised, with a very strange feeling in my stomach, that arguing had become a kind of habit between us. One which allowed us to return to a sense of normalcy, the same common ground, the same patterns and expectations which had existed when I'd still been his student.

I felt myself flush suddenly, and looked away.

"What was that?" Severus said, his voice no less accusatory, but slightly less abrasive.

"Nothing," I muttered.

"What were you thinking?" he pressed.

I felt a lump growing in my throat and pushed my voice past it furiously. "I would have told you if I wanted to!"

Severus's mouth curled bitterly, into something that expressed contempt, regret, and triumph, all at the same time. "I am surprised that you have come all the way here, when you seem to so thoroughly detest my company."

I had known he wouldn't be happy to see me. But, as usual, his anger was more difficult to withstand than I'd imagined it would be. I wanted to scream at him. To hit him. But I didn't. I held my emotions down and suffered through the long moment of tense silence, until they became manageable.

"I had a vision last night," I said, keeping my tone even and impossible to manipulate. "I… need your help with it."

There was a slight shimmer of something in his eyes. He seemed tempted by my confession, and satisfied by the singular sensation of being needed.

We had not yet touched, not even violently, and I found myself wishing to embrace him. I pressed away the thought. I felt very awkward, but kept my storm of feelings hidden deep.

Severus stood quite still, but I sensed that the anger he'd demonstrated previously had now ebbed. "Come here, then," he said. His voice was almost gentle.

Deliberately shedding my stubbornness for the time being, I went up to him. I felt the coldness of the air more sharply, and the subtle warmth which radiated from his body. His hand lifted and cradled the back of my head. It was unnecessary, but a way of bringing us both into the same channel of focus. It was very intimate, almost as intimate as a kiss, and I stared straight forward at the heavy black fabric of his cloak, momentarily unable to swallow.

"Look at me," he murmured.

I lifted my eyes to his dark ones, and sensed that, beneath the contention and strain between us, we were both secretly relieved to be near each other. No longer alone in the cold and the falling darkness.

His presence entered the front of my mind, firm and tingling. I shuddered a little. He wrapped his free arm around my waist to steady me. Letting the sound of the lapping waves soothe and open my mind, I began at the beginning.

When it was over, Severus's face was drawn in lines of deep focus and frustration. I looked at him searchingly, straining my eyes. The sky had become darker than before, and the snow was falling more thickly. His hands slipped away from my head and my waist, and his eyes were dark and guarded as he retreated into his thoughts.

"I did think it suspicious, the presence of Parkinson and Greengrass at the castle," he said, after a long moment. "I discouraged it, in fact, but Minerva was determined." He looked at me, his eyebrows furrowed. "Too many second chances."

I thought he intended to convey something to me, but the message was lost. I wanted to know what he had understood about the visions that I had not. "Do you know what that stone was?" I asked.

"No idea."

My breath clouded in the air as I sighed in frustration. "Minerva didn't either. Do you think Thorfinn and Macnair think Hieronymus knows where it is? And that's why they've captured him?"

"I don't think so," Severus said. I could see his thoughts gaining speed, and he began to walk. I followed beside him, and we spoke as we made our way around the edge of the lake. "Clearly he's been used for his foreign connections. Baddock went to him asking about the unicorn blood. But I don't think he knows anything about the stone."

"When that stranger brought him that case before… could it have been something to make the creatures stronger? The attacks have been so much worse since the breakout."

"It is possible. I don't know."

There was a sharp edge to his voice. "I don't expect you to," I said, trying to soothe him. He was just as frustrated about our blindness to the big picture as I was, but his frustration came out differently than mine, and I told myself not to be intimidated.

"I know that," he snapped.

We carried on walking in silence for a few minutes. The snow was falling even faster yet, the air was almost completely black, and there were quiet sounds of distant owls and nocturnal animals calling to each other as the night began.

After a while, the growing pressure of my questions forced me to break the silence. "Did you understand the ritual at all? I mean… did you recognise any part of it? The language?"

"No." He glanced at me guardedly before continuing. He knew I was asking about his experiences as one of the Death Eaters. "I observed rituals of course. But nothing quite like… that. Voldemort wasn't interested in creating creatures. He wanted only to control those which already existed. Do you know what was put into the cauldron before the bone?"

"I don't know. I can't control when the vision starts."

"That's very inconvenient," Severus said.

I felt my heart momentarily sink with self doubt before I realised that he'd only been speaking his honest thoughts aloud, not intending to offend me.

"Did you recognise the two older people in the circle?"

Severus shook his head.

We walked further in silence. The woods were frightening as the night deepened. Once, as a child, I'd found comfort in the singularly deep darkness which came to forests after nightfall. After the battle, that had changed. I recalled walking through the Forbidden Forest at night with Remus, when the creatures had still been relatively new to the world. How he had held my hand. I longed for that kind of reassurance from Severus, but did not seek it, only walking slightly closer to his side and hoping he did not notice.

"It is safe to assume that Malfoy is looking for Baddock," Severus said, continuing to think aloud. "The responsibility for the stone would likely have fallen to him after Malfoy's imprisonment…"

I couldn't deny that I was upset that Severus didn't seem to know anything more than I did. There was no new news to send to Kingsley, and no sudden revelation which would explain everything and bring a swift end to all of the conflict. I felt ashamed by my own immature expectations, and suddenly wondered whether it really would have been better to remain at the safe house. Perhaps I would only slow Severus down.

I was just beginning to wonder whether he was planning to continue walking all night, when he came to a stop and began to inspect a small clearing in the pines. "Here will do," he intoned.

Guilt washed over me. "You weren't planning to stop, were you?"

"Not quite so early," he said, beginning to cast protective spells in a small bubble around the two of us.

"I… I brought food," I said, apologetically.

He turned and looked at me with narrowed eyes. "So did I."

Obviously.

"Wilma," he said. I looked at him. There was a certain sternness in his eyes, but also a forgiveness. "There's nothing you can do about it now. We might as well…"

I nodded my head, understanding his meaning. I sensed in him a decision to stop trying to force me into safety, and knew that, when the dawn came, we would continue the search together. I felt forgiven and relieved, and began to help him with the protective charms.

The night was very cold, and the snow kept coming down. Severus and I sat in a bubble of warmth, against the large trunk of a naked oak tree among the pines, and shared hot tea from a flask that Severus had preserved and brought in a small drawstring bag of his own.

I kept thinking about the black lake, and how Pansy had so bravely propelled herself into the depths.

"How did Parkinson get to be such a strong swimmer?" I asked.

I hadn't really been seeking an answer, but Severus surprisingly had one. "It's a tradition, in Slytherin, to swim in the lake on the first night of term. The first years get thrown in from the rocks outside the common room window."

I looked at him, hoping to see that he was joking, but he looked completely serious. "No," I said. "Really?"

He smirked at my apparent shock. "Yes, really. Does it sound too violent an initiation to exist in the same school as the soft-hearted Gryffindor traditions?"

"Where is this house pride coming from?" I asked, deciding to go along with this gentle banter. "Was it so painful watching a Gryffindor take over your beloved Potions post?"

"Well, it is traditionally held by a serpent."

"Hmm…" I said.

My mind wandered as I stared off into the darkness between the trees, and imagined I was seeing things there. I still hadn't slept properly for many days, and felt exhaustion creeping up on me. Avoiding further hallucinations, I looked down at the black fabric of Severus's travelling cloak, my cheek nearly touching his shoulder.

"Are you cold?" he said.

"No. I'm alright."

But he took off his cloak and pulled it over the two of us like a blanket. The action undid all of the tension and self-consciousness the past hour had held. I let my head sink onto his shoulder. He did not protest, though there was that familiar moment of tension that came with nonsexual intimacy, before he relaxed.

"This is a bit ridiculous, isn't it?" I said. "This whole thing?"

"Yes," Severus said. And in that moment I felt as though he knew exactly what I had meant, and had agreed with it wholeheartedly.

I began to let my thoughts drift, no longer worried about what he was thinking. I thought about potions, and how much I missed teaching. I recalled Malcolm and Brodie Baddock and wondered where they were now. Whether they were with their father, and how they might have been pulled into the mess of the ritual and the breakout by their father's involvement.

"Tell me a memory," Severus said, after many minutes, interrupting my thoughts. "Snowshoeing, with the boy."

The images floated into the forefront of my mind, and softened my body with their sudden gentleness and loveliness. "How do you know about that?" I said quietly.

"The night you nearly died of pain in my office." He spoke plainly and sensitively, without a drop of sarcasm.

"You needed me to stay awake," I said quietly, remembering. The forest was soft and silent around us as the snowflakes fell. There was not even the slightest breeze. "Why do you keep calling him that?"

"What?"

"The boy."

He did not speak for a long moment, and when he did it was not in answer. "Will you tell it to me again?" he said.

"Why?"

He scowled, leaning his head back against the tree trunk. "Forget it," he said darkly.

I looked up at him from his shoulder. "No, why?"

"Because I liked it. Is that a transgression?"

The inexplicable tension lingered in the air for a moment, but soon cleared. I let my head rest back on Severus's shoulder, and let the images of that snowy day years ago fill my mind as I began to tell the story, as I remembered it now.

"I was thirteen and Fred was fourteen. It was a weird sunny day in the beginning of January, just before the start of second term. We'd just been out with the whole family for a few hours, and my legs were completely exhausted. Fred had this idea… He wanted to charm the snowshoes to make us glide over the snow, really really fast. Not even George agreed to try it with him, but I did. It was really cold, even though it was sunny. Fred and I–"

"Alright," Severus interjected, quietly but intensely. "I understand. You can stop emphasising his name."

"Okay," I said. "Fred and I found this crumbling old wall near the house, with nothing but snow over this shallow hill in front of it… He tried the charm on my snowshoes first. I was always the test subject when we were that age." I laughed quietly as I remembered his face, focused and full of mischief, as he'd tapped my snowshoes with his wand. "I went zooming over the field. Far faster than I'd expected. It was exhilarating, little ice crystals of snow were flying up, the sun was bright–I was screaming with delight, and then I slammed into something, probably a stump buried under the snow. I just toppled over, fell on my face…" I shook again, giggling a little… The memory was so pleasant, and trying to envision myself telling it to Severus while I'd been in such pain was strangely amusing. "Did I really tell you this that night?"

"Yes," Severus said. "It was the first thing your mind went to."

I wondered why.

"Anyway…" I continued, "I was lying face down in the freezing snow, it was so cold and sharp… Maybe it was because that night I was so hot, and this was the coldest I've ever been… Fred came rushing over, and helped me up. My face was numb from the snow, and he looked so scared, but I couldn't stop laughing… I just wanted to do it again. So we spent another hour doing it over and over until the snow was crossed with the paths of the snowshoes… and we finally went in to find mum waiting with hot cocoa…"

The memory began to fade there, and I felt the coldness of the surrounding forest again. Fred was safe and happy, forever preserved in these warm and joyful places in my heart… but George was not. I thought of him, and wondered where he was, if he was safe. Where he'd gone after he'd left the Burrow, when Arthur called him by the wrong name.

Severus was silent. I wondered why he'd wanted me to tell him that story now, but did not ask. There was a certain gentleness between us which I didn't want to disturb.

Time passed, and I was still leaning against him, feeling sleep crawling closer with every second. I was exhausted, my body tired from the many hours of walking that morning, and my tongue was stiff and slow from the cold.

The night was so dark that I could hardly see Severus at all… only feel him. I pressed my hand to his arm under the blanketing cloak.

"Sev… Severus?" I said quietly.

He tensed for a moment, and then relaxed. There was a change in the air, and in my fatigue I felt it more deeply. Severus shifted slightly in the darkness. "...say that again."

"What?" I said.

"Say it again."

My mind moved slowly. "Severus?"

"No…"

I thought of what I had said before, and then realised.

Oh. 'Sev.'

I felt suddenly nervous. "But… that was her name for you," I said, quietly protesting. "Do you… do you prefer it, though?"

His voice was soft, infinitely soft. "I only… want you to know that you can say it. If you want to."

"Okay," I said gently, feeling the power he had given me, and the intimacy that his permission implied.

A moment passed. "What were you going to ask me?"

I knew the answer to my question now, but asked it anyway. "Are you still angry?"

"No," he said, his voice gentle and scolding at the same time. "But you remain a complete idiot for coming here."

"I know…"

A long moment passed, deeply quiet. I watched the snow falling down from the safety of his shoulder. "Sev?" I said, tentatively.

His body seemed to physically grow warmer. "Hmm?" he said.

I smiled softly to myself, feeling the approach of sleep. "I just wanted to say it… I like it," I said.

His hand slowly moved to hold my arm, embracing me as our position allowed, hunched in the cold against the trunk of the oak tree. It was so strange, this intimacy, this understanding and knowledge of him. I felt something fluttering inside of me. "I love you," I said, very carefully.

Severus pulled me in closer. He waited a moment before speaking, as though waiting for the words. "I love you," he repeated, his voice soothing.

I let his warmth calm me, trusting in the protective charms which surrounded us, and soon I was asleep.

Morning came, cold and soft and silvery. My eyes opened slowly, and I remembered my single short dream. A wolf had been lying on the forest floor somewhere in the darkness, whining a low whine of pain. I didn't understand what it meant. It was so different from the visions I'd had before. But, despite its brevity, it didn't feel unimportant…

"Any dreams?" Severus asked, as we gathered ourselves and began to prepare to continue through the forest.

"No," I said.

He lifted one eyebrow. "Are you certain?"

I looked at him for a moment, and decided not to lie. "Just a little one," I said.

"May I look?"

"Okay…" I said. I was worried that he would see it and think that it was simply my brain expressing my subconscious worries about Remus. But I allowed him to touch my head gently, and to look into my eyes as he probed my mind.

I felt myself flush with embarrassment as he pulled away moments later. "It's nothing, I'm sure," I said dismissively, tightening my travelling cloak around myself.

"Alright," he said, his voice stiff and unyielding.

We began to walk, and did not mention the brief vision of the wolf again.

We walked north, regularly circling back and casting spells in attempts to reveal a hidden camp. Throughout the morning I had to stay mindful of my breath, controlling my nausea as I walked quickly to keep up with Severus, determined not to slow him down. By noontime I was comfortable again, and felt more in control of my magic, more alert.

We paused at another lake, even smaller than the one where we had first encountered each other. We drank and ate quietly. The snow fell more thinly and softly, and the sky was a gentle dark grey.

"The hills over there next, I think," Severus said, pointing across the lake to where the pine forest thickened and the land rose slowly and gently.

I agreed, and we walked around the small lake, the ground slowly starting to rise as the trees became thicker.

Severus walked a few paces ahead of me. I couldn't help but let my eyes linger on him in soft admiration. There was focus and intention in every part of his body as he walked, aware of the space all around him. His stride was controlled and capable.

So it was immediately clear when something suddenly changed.

He looked down and hissed in surprise, his leg sinking slightly into the ground. My eyes widened with alarm, and on instinct I rushed to him, grabbing his hand tightly and quickly conjuring a rope, which tied itself firmly around a strong tree nearby, which split from its base into two separate trunks. I held fast to the other end of the rope, clutching Severus's free hand firmly.

Severus's instincts had worked just as smoothly. Brown, snakelike vines had wrapped and twisted around his ankle. He cast a bright light with his wand, and the vines shrieked ear splittingly as they writhed, and let him go. Severus stumbled backward and I stood close at his side, relieved. We remained quiet as we studied the ground in front of us, from which the long brown vines had just sprung up. Severus lifted his wand, still holding my hand tightly. "Ventus Tria," he intoned.

A strong wind blew over the ground, scattering the dead leaves and dusty snow, exposing the small patch of Devil's Snare planted in the ground.

I felt my heart drop into my stomach, where it pumped coldly. "It shouldn't be here, should i–"

My words were cut off by my own gasp as the rope I'd used to anchor the two of us to solid ground twisted around my wrist, up to my elbow, acting much as the Devil's Snare had done to Severus's leg. My arm was pulled roughly, and very quickly, as though I'd apparated, I was wrenched across the forest floor towards the tree with two trunks, Severus tugged along with me.

My breath was thrust out of me as my back collided with one of the two trunks, and I heard Severus's sudden, panicked breath as the same happened to him. No sooner had our bodies and the tree made contact than our wands flew suddenly from our hands. I was shocked, and my heart started thumping wildly. My wand had always shown me loyalty, and it must have taken powerful magic to force it from my hand. I turned my head to look at Severus, and saw that the tree had started to move, pulling our bodies fast against the bark… and then through it, as though the tree was absorbing us into itself. Branches descended and wrapped around our bodies firmly. I struggled. I could sense Severus attempting silent wandless magic, which usually came to him without difficulty. But there was no change as the trees continued to pull us against them. The wood slowly stopped moving, and we were held firmly in place, helpless. I tried to speak, but realised that I had been silenced. My voice was trapped like a dead thing in my throat, struggling and heaving to get out. Panic flooded my mind like cold water. Where were our wands? I couldn't even move my head enough to look for them.

Severus's hand was still firmly gripping mine. Had we let go of each other, I'd have been pulled against the tree alone, and he'd have been free.

I strained my eyes, trying to look at him, but the uncomfortable angle of my neck, and the branch holding my forehead in place, wouldn't allow it.

Severus's voice entered my mind, piercing through the fog of mounting panic. Are you alright? said his voice.

Considering, I responded.

I still tried to writhe against the firm restraints of the trees.

I think it's been cursed, I thought, trying not to consider the implications of this possibility. Can you use Legilimency on a tree?

I felt the sharpened focus of Severus's mind–it almost hurt. I can try.

His presence faded from my head and I tried to calm my breathing, to let my body's natural magic seep into the limbs of the tree which restrained me. My thoughts were soft and gentle, and though I knew I couldn't possibly implant them into the tree's consciousness as Severus might be able to, I hoped that the tree might sense my good intentions and relax its limbs slightly, just enough to let me escape.

It's alright… I thought softly, letting my breath flow through my body, keeping my own fear at bay. But the tree did not seem to listen. It had been made deaf. I sensed only a cold darkness in its corrupted heart, and knew that its former sensitivity was unreachable.

A twig snapped softly beside me, and I felt my awareness sharpen to a needle-thin point.

"Hello, little duck."

My senses began to shut down.

I felt Severus urgently trying to push into my mind, to communicate with me, but the barriers around my thoughts were suddenly too firm to let him in, frozen and hardened by trauma. My eyes stared unseeing at the forest in front of me, the trees and the dead leaves and the snow nothing but a blur, a distant scene viewed through a telescope. I could only stare forward, unable to move my head.

A pulse of aching pain coiled tightly in my temples. My eyes watered, and I tried to breathe shallowly through my mouth, but couldn't hear my own breath. My ears were ringing.

Two figures entered my distorted vision. I couldn't seem to focus my eyes on either of them, but I knew who they were. They'd haunted my nightmares enough that I would have known them anywhere.

"Little duck?" Rookwood said questioningly to Lucius. His eyes moved to mine, boring into them and through my skull. "How sweet."

Again I felt Severus desperately struggling against the walls around my mind. I wanted to lower them, but the desire was drowned out by the terror which had conquered my body. We might as well have been on opposite ends of the earth.

A single word kept running through my head.

Idiot.

Idiot.

Idiot…

Lucius stepped closer, and my eyes began to focus now. My breath was still desperate; though I couldn't hear it, I felt my ribs pressing painfully and urgently against the hard wood of the tree.

"Well, well," he said. "If it isn't Severus Snape himself."

Rookwood growled, and as the two men grew closer I could see more clearly the damage their many months of imprisonment had wrought. I had no pity for them–the wildness of their eyes, the permanent dirtiness and wornness of their skin only made them look on the outside like the monsters I knew them to be.

Severus was clenching my hand so hard it'd gone numb. I still couldn't strain my eyes enough to see him. Lucius took a step towards Severus, and I was left looking straight forward at Rookwood. His eyes shone with wicked intent.

A high and anxious buzzing emanated from the back of my neck. I couldn't think… I couldn't hear anymore… I could barely breathe…

Lucius was saying something to Severus, his voice muffled as though underwater. A hand closed slowly around my wrist, and I felt the pressure of Severus's hand grow even harder. Then the tree suddenly relaxed. I felt the wood easing away from my skin, and my body fell limply forward, as though all of the strength had been sucked out of my bones. Lucius's hard and bitter scent engulfed me as I was pulled hard and tight against his body. I held onto Severus's hand with everything I had. There was a desperate moment of pulling, the bones squeezing, the skin numb and burning… and then my hand was sharply stung and flew open in shock. Severus's fingers tried to reach for mine, but it was too late–I was being half-carried, half-dragged forward into the clearing, between the tree and the exposed Devil's Snare, which lay stretched across the dead winter ground like the entrance to Hell.

A scream tore through the cold air, and I realised it was my own. My voice was back, but now that I had it I didn't want it. It was out of my control, wavering and shattering, and my breath was too loud and desperate. Lucius held my body against his, pinning me. I kicked and struggled, but his arms were just as immovable and heartless as the cursed tree.

I fought with all my might to get one of my arms free. The trees whirled and spun around me, and I could see Rookwood, standing very still, some distance away. I could only just bend my elbow, Lucius's arm unyielding across my upper arm and my chest, his hand tightly gripping and kneading my breast through the layers of my clothes. My hand swam in the open air, fighting drowning. I focused as much as I could, my screams and pleas still filling the air as I willed my wand to come to me… But it did not come. I could feel its burning, furious presence somewhere, but something was preventing it from being summoned.

Terror overtook me, and I breathed in the air as though it were smoke, my throat raw from screaming. Lucius's hand made firm, dizzying contact with my face, slapping me, and then my neck was being twisted, forced painfully around. His eyes were freezing cold as his face came forward, his mouth pressing against my lips, grinding against my teeth. His tongue slid into my mouth like a snake, filling it, and I bit down hard, his blood coppery and bitter. I choked and he withdrew, his face a painting of fury and triumph, redness dripping from his lips. He didn't seem to care that I'd bitten him, or to be phased by the pain. He looked as though he'd just torn my throat out with his teeth.

My mouth was hot and wet and burning, and I gasped raggedly, my voice coming out of me in harsh, high whimpers. Every part of my body was screaming NO and I hated how weak I was, my muscles uselessly straining and tensing, expending all of their strength on a lost cause. My lungs were doing all they could to simply keep breathing.

Lucius pushed my head around again, his arms barring me against his torso, forcing me to look at Severus. Lucius was panting with effort, and his voice chuckled with wicked elation. He said something which was, in its entirety, unclear. But I distinctly heard the word take.

Severus's eyes were full of black smoke, and I couldn't bear to look at him, knowing there was nothing he could do. My heartbeat throbbed black and wobbly in my vision and I closed my eyes, trying to escape my body.

For a moment, I was in that winter field with Fred… the sparkling snow… the soft wind stirring the clouds overhead… his shouts of excitement as I sped over the snow, body trembling with adrenaline…

A rough jolt of movement brought me back–Lucius had squeezed me so tightly that my heart was going to slide out of my throat. I choked, and my mouth curled into a deep, open frown of tragedy as Lucius's hand roughly gripped between my legs.

I turned my face away from Severus, unable to look as he attempted desperately to break free from his restraints, even though we both knew it was impossible. "Wait your turn," Rookwood taunted him.

And I understood.

They were going to kill him.

They were going to torture him by hurting me.

And then they were going to kill him.

I started writhing even more violently than before, kicking and screaming. "NO!"

A burst of sudden adrenaline made it seem like I had a chance–but, despite feeling stronger, my fighting still had no effect on Lucius's restraining arms. The sound of his laughter was fire in my brain. My ears rang as Lucius's voice vibrated through my body. "You have her first, Rookwood, you've waited longer–"

Lucius threw me to the ground. The sudden freedom from his arms was eclipsed by the helplessness of falling. I landed on my hands and knees, and my whole body jolted as he kicked my belly.

The wind flew out of me and left my head feeling like a small, clenched fist. I gasped, a tense groan of agony sliding through my burning nose and throat. I saw tiny blue pricking stars as I collapsed to the forest floor, the freezing snow and blackened leaves wet and almost soothing against my face. I could lie here until it was over…

No. Get up.

I struggled to push my shaking body up onto my hands and knees, my blood pulsing harder and faster through my veins as I regained my fighting spirit.

Then came the terrible word.

Just as I'd heard it on the night of the battle, in the Forbidden Forest.

And the evil curse was upon me.

It attacked like a spider with a hundred legs.

It penetrated and seared and stretched every orifice in my body, every pore in my skin.

My bones were being pulled into unnatural thin shapes and then shattered. My blood was boiling. My skin was being slowly torn off of me in layers. My throat was torn to shreds by the raw screams I couldn't hear for the throbbing and ringing in my ears.

Then it stopped.

My aching eyes stared up at the tops of the trees, the sky and slowly falling snow blurry from my tears and the weak fluttering of my heartbeat.

My body was a shirt hung out to dry in a hard and bitter wind. Useless.

I yearned to slip out of my body and hover somewhere far away and safe. To quietly give birth to my soul, and let my body fade from existence.

But I couldn't.

Rookwood's face appeared far above me, his body towering over mine. The creases in it were deeper than before, and his eyes were black and shining. There was none of the darkness which had shrouded his crime last time, none of it in the sky. But he brought it with him, as a demon brings its wings.

I lacked control of my eyelids, and couldn't even shut my eyes as he bent down and straddled my chest, sitting heavily on my ribs and squeezing all of the air out of my body. He gripped my throat, his hand tight and bruising, and his knees pinned down my elbows. The sharp weight of his knees made pain jolt down my arms to my twitching hands. The faintest of desires was made known to me, in the recesses of my weakened brain. I wanted to claw his face with my nails. But, of course, I couldn't. My arms were completely strengthless… boneless… my lower body was asleep to all sensation.

His words arrived slowly, muffled by the ringing in my ears. "Open your mouth, girl."

All of the lingering willpower my body possessed was channelled into holding my mouth closed. My teeth felt like they were going to fall out. My lips felt like they'd been pressed into white hot coals. Rookwood's eyes darkened as he saw my resistance, and he held my nose closed firmly, his knuckles digging into the bone of the bridge of my nose and my upper lip.

His other hand had disappeared between his legs, and I felt his hips shifting on top of me as he freed himself.

Tears of resistance filled my eyes. I felt my body growing lighter as I held my breath. The tension and dizziness as my blood felt the deprivation of oxygen… I was determined to last as long as I could. But my stamina was nothing compared to what it might have been under different circumstances. I started to see stars, and choked on nothingness as I opened my mouth to let in a feeble breath of air.

Still holding my nose, Rookwood's other hand gripped my chin, and he shoved his fingers into my mouth, pressing down my tongue. His other thumb hooked around my front teeth and I gagged as he forced my jaw open so far that I thought it would break, the already traumatised muscles tugging and aching.

Lucius said something, somewhere.

There was no time to process what was happening. Rookwood crouched forward, his weight shifting off of my belly, and my pinned elbows suffered from the sharp weight of his knees. I could only see the darkness of his body as he curled his torso over me.

I couldn't do anything. I couldn't even tense the muscles around my shoulder blades.

Then my mouth was not my own. Rookwood forced himself in, his hardness sliding across the back of my tongue. I gagged, clenching my eyes shut as they swelled with shock and tears. He slid deeper, and I felt my hands jolting and twitching uncontrollably from the pain. My throat was completely closed off. I couldn't breathe. His body vibrated as he moaned. He slid out, and shoved himself against the back of my throat again.

My heart wavered like a candle flame, and then the flame went out.

I thought that I had died.

I was lying down in the snowy field, the sky swept by wind overhead. Thin clouds moved softly in the sky. My body was freezing and numb in the cold crystals of the hardened snow on the ground. I felt a loud shuffling sound somewhere nearby, getting closer. I knew it was Fred, coming across the field to help me up. I let my body relax. If this was it, then, I thought, that would be okay.

Then a voice ripped through my mind, tearing apart the boundaries like Christmas wrapping paper.

"WILMA."

The muscles of my forehead tightened as my eyebrows furrowed. I resisted the voice… I wanted to stay here…

"WILMA. BREATHE. OPEN YOUR EYES."

I was confused… I recognised the voice of my Potions professor… but what was Snape doing here, near the Burrow?

"WILMA!"

Suddenly I coughed, and the snowy blue sky shattered into darkness. I coughed again, my eyes burning, my throat aching, tight and small. I was looking at a very different sky, dark grey, and Severus's eyes were above me, his hands tightly clenching my arms.

I wheezed as reality returned. I rolled over, pressing my cheek into the dark dirt of the forest floor, and vomited.

The feeling of my stomach's contents forcing themselves through the narrow swollenness of my throat was blindingly painful. I felt like my head was cracking open.

There was a high pitched screaming sound from nearby, and I rolled my head in disorientation, seeing that the tree which had held us captive was now in flames, as well as the Devil's Snare, its snake-like vines writhing in the fire.

Lucius was nowhere to be seen, but as I looked across the forest floor my eyes found Rookwood's body, lying face-up on the ground, stiff and motionless.

My wand was just inches from my hand. I did not know where it had come from, but it was singing inside my mind, its sole desire coursing through my blood. REVENGE. REVENGE.

Every fibre of my body trembling, I pushed myself up from the ground. Severus's hands stopped gripping my arms as I moved, letting go completely. My fingers closed around my wand and it gave me enough strength to stand. My knees wobbled as I walked across the forest floor to Rookwood. Severus stayed back and was silent, not protesting.

I was not even aware of what I was doing. I was being led by my wand, burning with rage. I reached Rookwood's body and knelt down, as though preparing to do something as simple as washing my hands. He was still alive. Severus had only petrified him, and his eyes watched me in complete terror. I looked back at him blankly.

His penis was lying limp and exposed in the cold air. I wrapped my hand around it, and pulled. My wand knew what to do. My wrist was steady as I drew my wand across the base, and blood gushed forth. I tossed his severed flesh aside, blood pooling between his legs. I gripped his testicles, and cut them off, tossing them beside his penis. Then I drew a flame in the air with my wand. I didn't even have to speak the incantation. Flames shot from my wand and Rookwood's genitals were consumed by fire. Numbly, I looked at his face, completely expressionless, but very pale. His eyes were watering with excruciating pain. I looked away. My hands were wearing sticky gloves of blood, and I crawled away from his body and the little fire.

I stopped, and crouched over numbly, trembling and struggling to breathe. I thought I would be sick again, my mind unable to catch up to my actions. I gripped my wand in my bloody fist, bracing it against the ground, and with my other hand touched my tender, tight neck, pressing my fingertips into the bruised skin. My tongue felt too heavy, too big in my mouth, and I gagged slightly from the feeling, nausea rolling through me.

I saw Severus walking slowly towards me in my peripheral vision. I kept my eyes fixed on the dead skeletal leaves on the ground, unable to look up at him. After the Cruciatus Curse, I'd completely forgotten about his presence, perhaps out of a desperate need to forget that he was witnessing what Rookwood was doing to me. Now I realised that he had seen it all, he had seen it even after I had blacked out. My body was full of shame. I hadn't been able to protect myself… I hadn't been able to stop it…

He knelt down beside me. His voice was dark and betrayed no emotion, and I still couldn't look into his eyes. "I need to heal your throat," he said.

I couldn't respond.

"Wilma. May I do that?"

I breathed slowly, with a wheezing sound, and nodded my head.

"I have to touch your neck," he said.

I nodded again.

Moving slowly so I could see what he was doing, his steady hand reached out and carefully pressed against the front of my neck, over my larynx. I felt the muscles clench, and thought I was going to lose consciousness again. But the moment of discomfort passed, and I felt the muscles relaxing, something being mended.

The aching and tension went away. My throat felt clearer and less swollen, but there was still an awful sensation inside. Whatever Severus had done could not erase the disgusting feeling that Rookwood's invasion had left.

Severus withdrew his hand. "Can you speak?"

I swallowed tightly, and let myself breathe just enough to produce a bit of sound. "I…"

My voice was rough and quiet, but it functioned.

Severus was silent, seemingly waiting for me to continue. But I'd only been testing my voice. My vocabulary fell away. There was nothing inside of me that I wanted to communicate.

"You need to wash your hands," Severus said. His voice was so even and deep. I was adrift, numb and floating, but his voice was a strange comfort.

I looked down at my bloody hands, momentarily forgetting what had happened to make them like that. Then I remembered the emotionless way I'd emasculated Rookwood. I didn't feel any guilt. I was just unable to quite believe that that young woman had been me.

Severus cast a gentle stream of warm water from his wand, and the water fell over my hands. "Rub your hands together," he said.

I couldn't. They just sat numbly against the leaves, the water rinsing some of the blood away, but not enough. I sat there, watching, breathing very carefully, as though my throat might shatter.

Severus slowly reached towards my hands, wanting to help me rub the blood away. But I flinched, and he did not touch me.

"Okay," he said. He spoke calmly, as though guiding me through how to fix a mistake I had made in a potion. "Use this…" He offered me his hand, which held his wand, still releasing a gentle stream of water. "Rinse your mouth. Move my hand where you need it."

My tongue pressed against the roof of my mouth… he was right… I could still taste the vomit… and Rookwood… and the blood from Lucius's tongue. My hand shook as I reached out and carefully touched Severus's wrist, bringing the tip of his wand closer. I opened my mouth a little, and let some of the water in. I moved it around my teeth and my tongue, and then spit. My stomach clenched unpleasantly.

"More?" Severus asked.

I shook my head.

He turned away, and was very silent for a long moment. I continued watching the ground, and a soft blue light bled across the leaves. He was speaking to his patronus. The blue light faded, and mere seconds later four people apparated into the forest. Molly, Bill, George, and Ginny.

It was the first time I'd seen George since Halloween night. But I could only spare each of their faces a brief glance. I watched them take in the chaos of the scene; the burning fires, and Rookwood's bloody body. I averted my eyes, continuing to watch the leaves. I wanted to go completely unnoticed.

Of course, this did not happen.

Molly said my name, and hurried over to me. She saw the remaining blood on my hands, and seemed to put the pieces together. She kept saying my name quietly as she embraced me, and I let myself sink against her body. I couldn't fully feel her warmth. I could barely feel anything.

Bill asked for an explanation, and I heard Severus telling them what had happened. I listened distantly, my mind wandering through a grey and empty place. He told how he had finally escaped the tree by using Legilimency to plant a fear of fire in the tree's consciousness. It had worked so well that the tree had actually set on fire, and relaxed its grip. His wand had come to him and he'd petrified Rookwood, but Lucius had reacted too quickly, and disapparated.

"Rookwood needs to be taken to the Ministry," Bill said. "George..."

I watched as Bill and George worked to staunch Rookwood's bleeding and button his trousers. This man had murdered Fred. I could see the desire to end Rookwood's life in both brothers' eyes. But they did not act on it.

I was full of hatred. I wished him dead. And I hoped that whatever the Ministry did to get information out of him was extremely painful, and left him nothing but a lifeless body in some dark place.

Molly was still embracing me on the ground as Bill and George took hold of Rookwood, and disapparated.

The rushing sound of the fires was dying, as the Devil's Snare stopped writhing. The ground grew dark again, smoking slightly. Severus extinguished the tree, and with a sweep of his wand it disintegrated into ash. The little fire I'd made to destroy Rookwood's genitals was allowed to go out on its own, and the smell of burning, smoking flesh filled my nose and made me want to vomit.

"We should go back to Shell Cottage," Ginny said. "We should hold a meeting."

Molly agreed, and Severus silently nodded his head. I kept my eyes fixed on the ground. I wanted to apparate alone, to have one moment of independence… but I knew I was too weak. The effects of the Cruciatus were still making my blood run too thinly through my veins. If I moved too suddenly, I would feel light headed. I would certainly be splinched if I tried to apparate.

"Hold onto me, dear," Molly instructed. I obeyed, tightly embracing her… almost too tight. It should have felt good to be in the arms of the woman who had been my mother for many years. But I felt completely numb.

There was a moment of silence as she pictured Shell Cottage… and then we were being squeezed through space.

We landed on the beach in front of the shell-shingled cottage, kneeling on the sand. My body was trembling from the stretching sensation of apparating, and I shifted away from Molly, needing to feel the air. The sea was sighing as small waves rolled over the sand further down the beach, and the wind was weaving through the dunes. I narrowed my eyes against the sand that blew softly in the air.

"Mum," Ginny said. She seemed to sense that I needed to be left alone.

Molly stood up. "Come on, dear…" she said to me quietly. "Let's go inside."

I shook my head. "I need a minute," I said. My voice hurt to use, but I trusted it was firm enough.

Molly seemed hesitant, but did not argue. "Alright," she said. Then she turned to Ginny, and the two of them silently walked up the beach and into the house.

Severus lingered.

Waves brushed the sand, rolling, crashing, subsiding.

"Wilma."

His voice was still controlled, but I sensed the slightest trembling of emotion inside of it.

He stepped closer, and his hand carefully touched my shoulder. "I'm–"

"Leave me alone, please," I said. My voice was rough, and I regretted it, but I needed him to go. Tears were filling my eyes, and I didn't want him to see me.

He took his hand away, and I trembled. "I will be inside…" he said, very quietly. "When you…"

He did not finish speaking, but stood nearby for a moment, silently. Then he turned and I heard his soft footsteps in the sand as he walked up the beach to the cottage.

I waited until the door was shut before I stood up. My legs trembled, my knees knocked together, and I fought back tears of fury as I slowly walked further down the beach. The water looked endless, and the wind tore through my body, brushing my skin, making me shiver and remember the pain.

I waited until I was out of sight of the cottage. Then a scream poured out of me like rain from the sky. The sound was awful, and it hurt my throat, but I needed it. I felt my blood and my breath humming as I gave vent to my anger and rage. I threw stones into the sea and shouted myself raw. I sank to the sand, sobbing when my body could no longer sustain the fire inside of it.

My hands still had blood on them, and I rubbed them with the wet sand, the roughness of the little grains erasing the blood, leaving my skin red. I crawled to the edge of the sea, not caring that my knees were getting soaked. I shivered. The water was freezing. I put my hands into the oncoming waves, letting the water take away the painful sand. But the water couldn't take away what had happened.

The fact that Lucius was still out there somewhere made my heart thud with fear.

What I had done to Rookwood was not satisfying enough to make me feel I'd avenged myself. It only made me feel dirtier.

I knelt there, holding my hands under the waves until my fingers were numb. My mind had slowed down and become cold and still as well. The rageful emotions had been exhausting, and now I didn't even have the energy to cry.

I could have sat there until the tide rose again and swallowed me. But I stood up, and walked back along the beach to the cottage.

It took me a moment to open the door, because of the numbness of my hands. My wrist ached as it turned, and I remembered how Lucius had grabbed it. I shut my eyes tightly for a moment and breathed out.

You know how to handle this.

I held my wand tightly, needing its support. I opened the door and closed it again. The house was very, very quiet. There were soft sounds coming from the kitchen, and I walked over the wooden floorboards into the room, the grey light of the cold sky coming through the glass between the beams of the ceiling.

Molly was standing over the table, pouring mugs of tea. Ginny was sitting in a chair, and her grey eyes looked at me with concern. Molly turned her head. "Come in, Wilma," she said, speaking carefully, but with an effort at normalcy and warmth. "Have something to eat. Have a cup of tea."

I shook my head and sat down silently in a chair, staring out the window at the dunes. Ginny and Molly silently sipped from their own mugs of tea, and Molly softly sat one down near me, offering it in case I changed my mind.

I listened to the quiet moaning of the wind outside, and the gentle sound of shell chimes coming from somewhere. There were footsteps elsewhere in the house. They softly came down the stairs and into the doorway. They belonged to Severus.

He'd removed his travelling cloak, and was now standing in muggle clothes. I glanced at him briefly and then looked away. The thought of him having seen me in a moment of such powerlessness was mortifying. He was the one whose arms I might have sought refuge in… but now I didn't even want to be looked at by him.

"Severus," Molly acknowledged.

He entered the kitchen and set down three vials of potion on the table in front of me, keeping his distance. "You need to drink these," he said.

I looked at the vials, and then away again. I shook my head. I didn't want anything in my mouth.

He didn't fight me. I sensed that he would, eventually. But for the moment he was quiet. He sat down in the chair beside me. My hands clasped each other tightly in my lap. He didn't touch me.

"May I check you?" he said.

I knew he meant the baby.

I nodded my head. He moved a bit closer, and pressed the tip of his wand very gently to my belly.

I looked down, watching, and then looked away again. I stared numbly at the wall.

Every emotion was slowly harvested from my body, carried away, and imprisoned somewhere secret.

The tip of his wand was glowing blue.

NOTE

This one was really, really hard to write. I apologise for the upsetting content. Please take care of yourselves, loves.