Sanguinem Maledicta

8

"No."

He didn't pay any heed to her. He tore his hands away and proceeded to make some more potions. He was acting crazy.

"Severus, stop!" She stamped down the vials on the table and forced him to come to a standstill and listen. He was shocked, partly because she was taking his first name and partly because she was taking a stand against him, although he didn't know for what. He was only trying to help her.   

"I'm not doing this anymore...I won't." Her throat tightened, but she was firm.

His expression narrowed and his mouth twitched imperceptibly. "These are not experimental potions." his voice was a low snarl. "Take them. Now."

Hermione stared at the colourful potions on the table. "What are they?"

He drew himself up, clearly irritated that she wasn't just obediently drugging herself at his behest. "They're intended to improve your physical and mental energy."

She eyed the potions more curiously but before she could start to reach out for them, she stopped herself, her fingers only a few centimeters away.

"You never offered them before."

He stiffened, the ladle in his hand shifted audibly against the empty cauldron. "They'll have the side-effect of making your health difficult to accurately monitor. It will be easier to physically overextend yourself without realizing it. However- they should help you to revitalize your system, so that you can endure the next poultice treatment."

Hermione sighed; she was so exhausted, it was as though she could feel her life slipping away like sand in an hourglass. There was a tearing sense of wistfulness in her chest. 

All she wanted were simple and uncomplicated things that felt good. It didn't seem like a horribly unreasonable thing to want for just the little while that she was going to be there.

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'?" he was scathing in his mockery. 

He said it like that wasn't even an option. He couldn't begin to fathom why someone would reject their only possible chance at survival.

"I mean..." she was looking down at the ground but then forced her eyes upwards to meet his gaze. "What's the use? I can't keep doing this...I'm not getting any better."

"But you will be." he was exasperated as he came around his desk and tried to force the vials into her hand again. "That's why I'm asking you to take them!"

"Even if I do, what then?" she tried to make him understand. "I might feel better for a few days but then what? I would be kept alive for the poultice and eventually grow weak again till the next date arrives. I'm just trying to make it to the next date...I can't keep living like that. I feel like I'm stuck in a loop."

"Don't you think I'm doing everything I can?" he accused.

"I know you are." she closed her hands over his, so that the bottles remained in his palm. "I'm asking you not to anymore."

He stared at their hands for a while, then peered into her eyes. "What do you want me to do?" his voice sounded resigned, beaten. But when she looked at him, he looked steady- because he was, he was ready to comply, ready to do whatever it took.

She slowly pulled her hands away. She couldn't look at his eyes. She took a deep breath.

"Don't you think, it's time?"

"Time...to what?" He eyed her.

"To- to give up."

She knew it and she knew that he knew it too. But he refused to accept defeat.