There's little joy in life for me,
And little terror in the grave;
I've lived the parting hour to see
Of one I would have died to save.
-Charlotte Brontë (On the death of Anne Brontë)
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I seem to myself, as in a dream- an accidental guest in this dreadful body.
- Anonymous
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Severus Snape opened his eyes, which were met with another pair of beautiful peepers. He had closed his eyes for the very last time while taking his dying breath at the Shrieking Shack, gazing at a pair of olive-green eyes, hoping only to see those same striking emerald eyes of his long-lost beloved on the other side. But now he woke up to a different pair of beige eyes, that were close to being hazel with concern as she stared down at him like a fawn. After the initial surprise and disappointment passed, all he could think of was the pain, that didn't even allow him to speak. He closed his eyes again in agony and could only groan like a wounded animal, twitching around in whatever hell-hole he was lying in right now. No, this cannot be heaven...there's much too discomfort and pain for that. And most importantly, Lily isn't here....
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Hermione paced in the hall outside the room, anxiously biting her nails and fidgeting with the phone. St.Mungos' was full of patients who were critically injured and more were coming in all day, so Hermione had insisted on keeping Snape in her house to lower the pressure on the hospital somewhat, seeing that he wasn't in need of any medical assistance or to be put under constant surveillance. But she had been calling the hospital all day and she was afraid that Luna, who had recently become a healer, was going to snap at her if she disturbed her again. But she was willing to stomach all verbal abuse if that meant she could give the groaning man inside some respite from his pain. Although being a good friend that she was, Luna adressed Hermione with the utmost patience when she had to answer a call from her for the umpteenth time.
"Did the wardboys I sent from the hospital not reach your house okay?"
"Yes, yes they did. They managed to change his clothes all by themselves, I didn't even need to help." Hermione told her, "But, he looks like he's still in a lot of pain...Is there something I should be doing? Some drugs? Oh Luna, I'm just getting really worried..."
"I'm afraid we can't really do much apart from waiting for him to wake up. He is probably getting in and out of consciousness, that's why his pain is getting renewed. He is already under a lot of morphine. I'm sorry honey, but a higher dose might prove fatal."
"Uh huh. Right." Hermione glanced at the door as she heard his low scream again. "It's just that..I wish I could do more."
"Hermione, you've already done enough. You were the only one who went back to get him while everyone else was celebrating the great victory. It was a stroke of luck that he was still alive. The little life that was left in him was nurtured by your perseverance and constant care. It was a miracle that your antidote worked against the venom of Nagini. It would take sometime to get the poison completely out of his system. Give him time to heal."
Hermione thanked her again and disconnected the call. She didn't want words of praises now when all she could think of was the discomfort of the man just on the other side of the door, especially since her intention upon saving his life wasn't entirely selfless.
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Snape woke up again; this time his pain had much subsided and he could see clearly. Furthermore, there were no eyes looming over him blocking his view and he passed a glance over the room he had been in for the past how many days, he had no idea.
It appeared to be the room of a couple whose picture hung on the wall but it's inhabitants had apparently long since abandoned the household, with all their clothes and other belongings gone. Only the furniture was left behind and a photograph on the bedside table but which was now magically blank. The light coming through the open window announced that it was daytime but the dust on the drapes told him that this room was only recently opened, for his use obviously.
He pushed himself up on the bed, ignoring the burning pain that shot up his left arm and shoulder. He couldn't fathom how it was that he was alive. He had been ready to die, welcomed it even when it came, praying that he could finally meet with her again in the afterlife, if such a thing even existed. His whole life, the purpose of his living was leading upto this. Either that or he was willing to succumb to oblivion, satisfied with the fact that he had fulfilled his promise to the only woman he had ever loved. Waking up in a stranger's bed wasn't what he had in mind.
He wanted to know who had interfered in his plan, who had taken the liberty to take matters into their hands and stopped him from reaching his goal just yet, leaving him at the mercy of some unknown person, who also ogled at him curiosly with a pair of eyes that seemed oddly familiar...
"Oops, sorry. Did I wake you?"
Snape turned his head towards the sound of someone stubbing their toe on the doorframe and letting out a whimper, while trying to enter.
"G-Granger?"
"Yes,"Hermione smiled, glad that he was fully awake,"It's me, sir."
He was staring at her dumbfounded, the wheels in his head spinning into motion. She approached his bed cautiously, watching him carefully; he had somewhat of a stubble for lack of grooming, his lank hair was messy from staying in bed and there were permanent dark circles under his eyes and lines on his forehead. The most awful feature staring her in the face was the look of complete exhaustion and world-wearyness on this broken and battered man in front of her.
"How are you feeling now, professor? Are you in pain? Do you want me to call the hospital? What do you need?"
"I- uh...how, wha-...you did, how?"
"I gave you an antidote for the venom, after I found you still had a pulse back in the Shrieking Shack. It was no miracle really, it was the result of all those years of studying at the greatest school there is. There really was not much of a chance but I had my fingers crossed for you, ah ahem, I hoped that you would survive. Luna helped out a lot. You remember her don't you? She's a healer now, at St.Mungo's. Can you believe it? Oh, and we won by the way, but y-you get that, I take it. There were some casualties though..Remus, Tonks and...and Fred. And Harry almost died. But the rest are good...well almost. Now I'm so happy to be able to take your name off the list of the dead. I was waiting for you to wake up. Luna said it's gonna take some time for you to fully recover. And don't worry, I had two helpers to change your clothes and clean your wounds, ha ha I didn't do that myself- I wasn't sure if you would be okay with that." She gradually let her voice fade out when she saw that he was still staring at her with the same expression of mixed surprise, shock and amusement and, was that, anger? She didn't understand what he was thinking but then decided that he must be taking time to take it all in, obviously not getting over the initial shock of being alive even in the worst of circumstances.
"Oh, look at me, blabbering on. You must me so hungry. And thirsty." She jumped into action. "I don't have a house-elf so I'm afraid you're gonna be subjected to my horrible cooking." She gave a hollow laugh which was received by the same vacant expression. She shifted her weight between her legs some more and then left the room.
For the next couple of days, she brought him food and took the plates out with his meals hardly touched, stood by as the wardboys came in to change his bandages and clothes, and caught him staring out the window all the time but all this while she couldn't manage to get a peep out of him. She tried talking about her own family, letting him know that he was staying at her old house, how she had wiped all memory of her from her parents' minds before the war so that they had left she knew not where. She teared up a little but he looked like he couldn't care less, and if truth be told, she was stupid to expect that. But what was cause for concern was that he didn't even say anything to mock her or hurt her with his usual snide remarks. He looked increasingly fed up, with her, with his condition, or maybe with life in general. She talked with Luna but to no avail.
["Have you tried cleansing his aura?"
"Umm, I don't think he is suffering from a curious infestation of Nargles, Luna!"]
She doubted whether anyone could really help with his depression, if she had diagnosed him right. They give you steps. Stages. Signs to watch out for. On how to deal with it, how to manage it, how to control it, keep it at bay. How to cage it and lock it safe in a lone corner of your mind until it is tamed. But what do you do when that prowling beast breaks out of its shackles and takes over everything that you know about yourself?
She could understand that it was a built up rage and grief that was struggling to come out of him, she could see it in his eyes. Only she didn't understand why he wasn't lashing out on her, as was his M.O; she figured there was a little bit of gratitude in him after all. Although when she tried to support his weight when he was on his way to the bathroom, he always swatted her hand away, refusing her help no matter how hard he struggled to go a few paces.
She caught him eyeing the steak knife once or twice and always was careful with sharp objects around him after that. She was on the lookout for any sound of broken glass or loud bangs or anything of the sort although she was sure he wouldn't do something so stupid. But one couldn't be too careful. He had his wand with him at all times although he wasn't seen to use it or have the strength to do so.
She concentrated on his eyes instead- the ones that spoke volumes without revealing anything really. She liked his dark eyes. They were a peculiar kind of dark- the kind that stirs up your soul. They always looked like they haven't slept in years. Perhaps since he saw that one thing that he shouldn't have. His eyes had a bit of a glistening, she noticed, like he was about to drop some tears. At other times they were full of a fire that would burn her very core.
She didn't know when or how it happened but she was intrigued by and did she daresay, attracted to the owner of that pair of eyes. They were the kind that scintillates with a serious face and hypnotises you, makes you believe in things you shouldn't and tells you how the voices you always try to shush can never be suppressed- at least not for long. His eyes looked victimised, and sometimes guilty. His lips sometimes parted as if he was about to say something but stops. Sometimes his eyes felt like a predator's and sometimes a ten-year old boy's, he must have been when those awful things had happened to him. His eyes had always been begging for help, which his mouth refused, but none paid any heed to his pleading eyes. Rather they were all terrified. She reckoned they were all afraid of his dark eyes because they spoke the truth, and they were all guilty. They knew he was just a child and that he couldn't have done anything...they could've sympathised, but they didn't. Not till his apparent death at least. They could've saved him from the beast that had been feeding upon him for years and they only watched it all happen.
Hermione sighed. Perhaps she loved his dark eyes because it yelled, "It was you!" It was her, one among many others who kept quite, who misunderstood him, who used him to their advantage. He learnt to stay quite but his eyes didn't. Everyday they announced each one of them guilty with a stroke of a hammer. His eyes were his advocates and their darkness only illuminated theirs that they kept concealing for years. Hermione shivered, afraid of some unknown fear that had grasped her and found a welcome break when a ministry official came calling at her doorstep to check on Snape and make the news of his survival official.
While the corporate-looking man took a seat close to Snape's bed and took out a clipboard and a quill, preparing for questions, Hermione quickly jumped to Snape's defence. "He really had no hope of surviving..it was just that the medicine was really effective, thankfully. I had managed to get my hands on a fang of the snake and concocted this potion- well it's a long story. It was basically luck. That and the fact that he had dedicated his entire life for the greater good. I mean obviously, there is some justice left in this world, right? He should be repaid for all that he has done. As I'm sure you are well aware by now, that he was always acting as a double-agent and had worked tirelessly with Dumbledore to take the war to the end it has reached. I think I can safely say that things wouldn't have turned quite the way they have if it wasn't for him. You dare not slap him with some bullshit accusations of any crimes he committed as a death-eater. You simply cannot! He was acting under Dumbledore's orders for Christ's sake. I think he should be rewarded with the Order of Merlin in the least. I'm not sure whether he wants the world to know his entire story just yet but McGonagall will vouch for him. And Harry too. Do you have any doubts in the authenticity of my words? I dare you to challenge The Mr.Potter, the saviour of the world. Hello, mister? Are you convinced or should I speak some more?"
"No. No, uh Ms.Granger, I-I think you have said enough." he uncomfortably adjusted his tie.
"Indeed."
It was the first time Snape had spoken in a week and that zipped up Hermione's lips for good. She decided to leave the two gentlemen alone to discuss whatever he had come to do. After he left, Hermione hopped into his room again with a smile, only to find Snape standing by the window, gazing out into nothingness.
"He threatened me with a knighthood, but I settled for an Order of Merlin, First Class."
It was the first time that he had directly adressed her, since he was here, although he hadn't faced her yet.
"That's great! You can start your life anew. You could join back at Hogwarts, I'm sure they'll be happy to have you." She dared to venture into a speech that was a little more intimate than she ever had with her professor. "I'm so proud of you. And I have a renewed respect for you. Truly...not every superhero wears a cape. Honestly, what you did for Lily....it was truly heartbreaking but on the whole, very romantic."
The mention of Lily's name made him flinch. She saw him breathing hard and looking down at his feet.
"I won't romanticise heartbreak. It was a kind of death and I was forced to live. And now again....."
He was talking about love, the pain it involved and wishing no one has to go through that, even if it meant never to fall in love, ever. She now realised why she had been in such agony for the last few days. It was only love.
She took another step towards him, reaching out a hand but stopping in midair. She realised he was having trouble with dealing with this newfound gift of life; his sole purpose was to right the wrong he had done all those years ago, to get justice for his beloved, to end the evil in the world and achieve redemption. But now that it was all over, he despaired with a sudden meaninglessness of living any further. He was like a soldier who did his duty and felt like he should rest along with his comrades. But she couldn't let him go.
"This is not the end. There are other things that can give life meaning."
He whipped around with anger in his eyes and the lashing out she had been afraid of was now in full force.
"Like what? Like love?" he spat.
"Why are you acting like this? You are alive, you should be happy-"
"I didn't want to be!"
"Well I'm sorry that I couldn't stop myself from acting in a humane way. God forbid I saved the life of a fellow human being, one whom I have been acquainted to almost all my life no less."
"What, did you expect a fucking compliment? You want me to be forever indebted to you for doing something for me that I didn't even want? Is that it?
"No! No. However, a little bit of gratitude would be a start."
He pointed his finger at her. "You listen to me, girl. Don't you ever think that just because you did me this unwanted courtesy, you have any right over me. My life is my own and I can do with it whatever I so desire."
Hermione stared at him and she could feel the tears coming but she fought them back. She was afraid of what he might do with himself but there was only so much she could do to prevent it. He was right; she really had no power over him. All she could do was to try and disarm him with her pleading words.
"Please. Let me help you-"
"I don't want your help!"
"That doesn't mean you don't need it. Please...I can't watch you do this to yourself-'
"It's too difficult for you is it?"
"Yes it is!"
"I don't need your pity."
"I'm not pitying you. No matter what you have people believe, this is not who you really are-"
"You think you see through me, do you? Well you don't! But I see through you. You are not doing this for anything other than to garner praise. Another badge after the name of one arm of the Golden Trio. The girl with the heart of gold, who didn't think twice before saving the man who had been awful to her all her life. She took pity on his condition when she saw him lying helplessly on his deathbed, begging her to save him-"
"For the last time, I did not do this out of pity!"
"Then what are you doing here catering to my needs? Why can't you just leave me alone? There's tonnes of people out there- what am I to you? I'm not good-looking, or charming, I'm not even nice. But you, you live under the delusion that you can fix everything. What I am is what you need- I'm damaged. But I suggest you look for your next charity case somewhere else."
She was stunned. "I don't think of you as a charity case-"
But he continued on mercilessly,"That's exactly what you think of me. Another dreg of humanity for you to work on. Patch him up and send him back into the world...You care SO MUCH, don't you?!"
There was pin-drop silence in the house following this utterance, except the sound of their breathing and the electric tention between the two. Both looked like they could obliterate the other with just a look. Hermione spoke first, with immense control on her anger.
"This is the part where you apologise."
"This is the part where you leave."
He turned the other way again and Hermione scoffed at his rudeness and utter disregard for her feelings. Eventually, she did leave, banging the door close behind her.
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Snape packed up his stuff- the little of which that he had there, as he decided to leave the house for good. He had made up his mind to storm out but something made him linger. He still had a nagging pain in his upper arm and shoulder starting from the nape of his neck but he hauled the bag on his back and went out to the drawing-room. Hermione was sitting on one of the armchairs, turning the pages of a book, but not really reading. She looked up as he entered and smiled despite herself. She had calmed down considerably after their row earlier in the evening and thought that he had too, and that he had come to apologise. She believed he was really good deep down.
He was not expecting a smile from her and gulped back the comebacks he had ready in his mind in case she was cheeky with him. He didn't actually want to be rude to her anymore since after all, he was thankful for all that she had done for him and was glad they could part on a civil note.
"I'm leaving."
It was all he offered as a goodbye and that wiped the smile off her face.
"Let's hope for your sake that you don't have to see this fugly mug again."
She stared at him transfixed, realising that was all she could expect from the man she was falling for and that now she had to say goodbye to him, perhaps forever. She closed her mouth, deciding that it was too difficult and wordlessly went back to reading her book, giving him the same silent treatment he had given her. Even in the haunting silence of the house he could almost hear the crack of her heart. He realised that she had nothing to say and after hovering some more, he quitely left, never to turn back again.
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He hated women- hated them unconsciously and despised them by instinct. He often repeated the words of Christ: "Woman, what have I to do with thee?" And he would add: "It seems as though God, Himself were dissatisfied with this work of His". She was the tempter who led the first man astray and who since then had ever been busy with her work of damnation. And even more than their sinful bodies, he hated their loving hearts.
-Guy De Maupassant (Claire De Lune)
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I take no joy in meat nor mead, and song and laughter have become suspicious strangers to me. I am a creature of grief and dust and bitter longings. There is an empty place within me where my heart once was.
- George R. R. Martin ( A Song of Ice and Fire)
[This the first chapter to a story I have worked on for so long and so hard. Show some love for Snamione. Let me know how you feel and whether your opinions contradicts mine. Vote and share. Comments are most welcome!❤❤]