From his work desk in the room, Severus heard the rustling of paper- coming directly from Y/N's box. A genuine smile caressed his face and he draped the blanket over his shoulders to check the portal. Inside the box lay a slip of paper with little d...
❝ Hey you, pssssst Yeah you, pssssst I missed you :3 Yes you <3 Man idk what to even write for this author's note, holy shit. It's been a minute. Enjoy the shitshow of me trying to figure out how to write again 😂💕 I love you guys so friggin much!!! Thank you for all the support and comments, we really blew up! Also, self harm warning at the very end 🥺 Be prepared, lovelies. ❞
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My Blood by Ellie Goulding ╚──────┨۞┠──────╝
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SNAPE'S POV
I must confess, I didn't want to remember.
The sun's rays were filtering through the trees, white glistening in the aftermath of a long snow. It was... wet, instead of cold. The trees, although confined in their white blankets, felt alive. I could hear the symphonic sounds of frogs and chattering creatures and birds and insects.
It was a peaceful nightmare.
What had started out as a well-intended stroll through the woods alarmingly transformed itself into a slew of emotions and I didn't want to remember them. Terror seized my chest at the thought of Y/N recalling, as I was now. But that thought was quickly shooed from my mind- she couldn't remember, she didn't have the prying and anxious disposition I possessed. Her mind didn't claw itself to shreds, as mine did.
It was strange. I felt that the reopened wounds should hurt more than the first time the blow was delivered, but then I thought back to my choices and actions in that time. Indeed, it hurt me much more back then than it did now. But a reopened wound was still a bleeding ordeal.
It was only once I sat down in the moss, hugging my knees to my chest, tears streaming down my face- when I felt ataraxia, clarity, peace of the mind. I remembered why I put the memories away. Why I put Y/N's away too. Y/N was still better off not knowing, especially in a time like this. I finally believed she was happy, after so much torture this year. I couldn't imagine how much she missed Sirius, how scared she was for Buckbeak, how much she needed Remus back in her life. It was a hard thing to believe... but after Christmas, I finally realized she needed me too. She depended on me to protect her.
Telling her what happened would not help protect her.
I pulled a small notebook (I always had it on me) from my coat and transfigured a stick into a quill, along with trees sap into ink. Into those small pages I bled the ink into an explanation of everything. Reading the horrors of that night would eliminate the PTSD the actual memories gave me. It would serve as a gentler way to protect me and Y/N, I knew it.
