i dreamt of the sun
The blurry horizon of white and yellow filtered through Severus' lashes. There was a brick wall and against it, white linen curtains that waved to him and the laughter of children in the distance and the chirp of grasshoppers and the distant buzzing of a single mosquito.
There was also her.
A woman with determined moth wing-brown eyes and chestnut curls that changed his bed sheets and refilled his water decanter.
"More blankets?" Nurse Granger asked, smoothing her apron, then dropped her head softly against her chest, hiding a smile.
Silly her. Of course, no more blankets. The sun was at the top of the sky now and the heat spread to Severus' feet through the faded cotton sheets.
His cheeks lightened.
"I should like a walk."
"Of course sir."
She always called him sir, for old times' sake and he let her, for new times' pleasure.
She pulled up the head of the bed. On his chair lay his jacket and hat, both of which he insisted he'd shimmy into by himself. It was silly, that also, because he always wore a linen dressing gown and no pants underneath.
She took his walking cane off the hook and rushed over, holding out the tool to his absent grasp. He placed but one hand on her arm, a spark running up his arm as he did so, and lowered the cane.
"I should like to walk with you."
She slipped her arm under his and led him down the marble steps, down five platforms until they reached the courtyard.
Here there was a path of concrete: the sharp corners of a mathematical labyrinth running through a maze of inch-long shrubs and tiny petunia flowers. There where wheelchairs and walking pushers and children running with their maids to and fro.
"I'd like to go the forest."
"Of course, sir."
And they steered away from the voices to the quaint little forest far beyond the stretches of St Mungo's. There, the grass grew taller and the distant calls of birds rang through the air.
He held her arm firmly, letting her guide him down the winding path until they reached a clearing with an overgrown bench. It is there where they settled: him-firmly, her -uncertainly.
"You had not taken your cane."
"Indeed."
And so the singing of the birds rang clear until it died down completely, and only rustles of the leaves as the wind blew through the trees was heard,
"Your hair," he said, running a lock through his fingers, "it is especially beautiful today."
"Oh."
He brought the lock to his nose, taking a whiff. "And yet, a different scent? Lily of the Valley perhaps?"
"I can't-"
"And how curious that you should be changing your shampoo every time I've not complimented you."
"Severus," said she and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. "My dear Severus, you should have brought your cane."
"I will not bring it ever again."
She rolled her eyes. "You are incorrigible!"
"And that is why you love me."
She grinned. "I wish I only did half as much."
"And even half is much too generous." He sank to his knees, producing a small, velvet box from his coat pocket. "And it is for that reason, I cannot ask as much."
Inside the box glistened a ring with a diamond as large as her fingernail. She took the ring, slipping it effortlessly on her finger. "I do," she replied. "You know as much."
