He Apparates near the little house and waits a few moments before approaching. He tests the air, senses the surroundings to make certain there are no trespassers, then once he is satisfied it is safe, he quickly heads to the door. He passes through his sphere of protection and thinks the spell to open the door. Once inside, the door closes and he re-applies the house's internal protection. Elsbet stirs in his arms and he kisses her forehead; she knows she's home. Without delay he carries her into her room and lays her down on her bed. He draws up his favorite bedroom chair and sits down beside the bed, and her eyes finally flutter open.
She smiles weakly up at him.
Leaning forward, he gently brushes the hair from her face and caresses her lips with his thumb. "Hello, my pretty girl," he says softly, and her smile widens. "Your Sensei tells me that..." he pauses as if he's not sure what to say, "...you're not feeling well." Her brows knit and he's afraid she's going to cry. She nods and he asks her, though he knows Therion says it's not, "is this something that I have done?" She does cry, but she tells him that it's not his fault. She taps her head and tells him there's something he needs to know, something he needs to see, but that, "I'm afraid of what you'll think of me once you know."
He's not expecting something like that, and has to steel himself. He has to be strong to do this, he knows already, but this...she's afraid of losing his love. How can he comfort her? He takes off his boots and drapes his cloak and robe over the chair, then carefully lays down beside her. His closeness like this has always calmed her, especially when their information transfer has been difficult. But this is different; he knows she's thinking this is the last time she will have this. She plays with the buttons on his shirt, undoing a few of them, then slips in a trembling hand. She touches his warm skin and he wants to kiss her, but he knows where that kiss would lead.
But would that be so bad? He forces himself to stay focused, and when she tells him she's ready to begin, he eases her into the best, most comfortable position for what he has to do. Their eyes meet, their gazes lock, and with a breath, he's in. He enters the safety construct and finds her mental state in disarray. The sky is overcast and cloudy, and he is met with an odd sort of rain. Wind, which whips both the rain and his hair, seems to come from every direction. He steps up to the façade of the blemishless granite cube and waits for the question. He waits only a moment. What is Love? He looks up at the sky, letting her mental rain fall over him. "The most powerful Magic there is," Snape says, and the wall splits.
It opens not to the next level as he's expecting, but directly into the corridor. It's eerily dark, lit with only a few candles now, and the sound of his boots echo as he approaches the black glass door. But...he can not see himself in it. There is no questioning digitized voice this time, and it worries him. He touches the glass but the door does not open, and he remembers he'd set this up intentionally. He has to say something, but he can not recall what. He never thought he'd be doing this for the reason he is.
He knows what he needs is on the other side of this barrier, and if he can't get in to it, he may lose her. How horrible would that be? He steps back and looks at the glass again. He says clearly and evenly, "one is the loneliest number that you'll ever do." The lights flicker on on the other side of the glass, and the door slides open. The light is blindingly bright, but his eyes adjust quickly and when they do, he's right where he should be; at the begining of her breakfast this morning. He ignores Roycroft's behavior and looks at the paper the wizard gave her when she opens it. He nearly chuckles; the list is almost identical to his own. He can't imagine why Dolohov and Rowle aren't also KOS, nor why that vermin Pettigrew--
He sees Malfoy's name at the same time she does, and looks at Roycroft just as she does. Then, he moves around her so he can see her face. She is truly frightened for him, and when she begs Roycroft, Merlin's beard, she begs for Malfoy to be spared...he crouches down beside the table and closes his eyes tightly. The sound of her voice telling Roycroft that Malfoy was brought to meet her...then Roycroft telling her he would do it because he loves her...and when he hears that Malfoy must be brought to them just as he himself had been, Snape swears he'll make Malfoy do it if he has to.
Snape's angry, he wishes he could somehow punch Roycroft just once, but here it would have no more effect than would punching Nearly-Headless Nick. He rises and actually lifts his hand to touch her whispy hair, vowing that she will never know the truth about why Malfoy was there that night. The memory-scene changes around him and he's standing in Therion's bookshop, where he watches and listens and tries to remain as objective as he possibly can be. But when she asks Therion what he knows about Malfoy, he has to sit down. He's surprised and actually relieved by, even grateful for, Therion's reply to her, but when she tells Therion why it doesn't matter that he and Malfoy are Dark, it is as if all the air in his lungs has been sucked out.
She killed someone.
He shakes his head. That can't be...not her, not his dear one...He doesn't pause the flow of her memory, but it does take a few moments for him to compose himself. He listens intently to her every word, trying to picture her parents, imagining them raising her to be a witch. The story about her mother's mother sticks in his mind, as does Therion's expression when she speaks of it, and he wants to tell her that there's nothing ridiculous about it...it tears at him to hear her tell her story, it tears at him to see her weep, but the worst of it is when she talks about her turn to Darkness.
She was wrong! She didn't turn, she just made a mistake, an error in judgement, one anyone in her situation could have made. She found her way back to the Path of Light! He wants to draw out of her mind and explain this to her but he knows he can't yet, and it would do little good for either of them besides. So he continues to listen to her sorrowful story, his heart near to breaking when she speaks of the attack...but the aftermath of it and its effect on her taxes him almost to his limit.
Gods preserve him, she says that she lives for him, and that she can not bear to be diminished in his eyes...it is so much for him to deal with, but he knows, he has to go deeper still. He has to see the actual memories. He doesn't want to, he doesn't want to feel the horror, but he knows he must. He has to see the curse as it happened. He has to witness the casting, and its effects, to know if it was simply Thought and Will as she believes, or if it truly was Magic. And he needs to see her parents if he's to know for sure what they were.
An hour more they are thus joined and at the end when he withdraws from her, he still has questions, but he knows that no matter how much he has loved her, it does not compare to how much he loves her now. He rests his forehead on hers, his eyes tightly shut, and he feels her stir beneath him. She whispers his name and his eyes open. "Elsbet," he says softly, "you have no idea how much you mean to me...when I told you that I would never run from you, that I would never abandon you, I meant it." She tries to hide her face but he holds her gaze. "You did nothing wrong, I need you to understand that. You defended yourself and your parents, and you were far kinder to him than I would have been."
Somehow, regardless of how badly she feels, she finds humor in his comment, which almost makes her feel worse. "Silly girl," Snape whispers and pulls her closer to him, then kisses her trembling lips tenderly. They hold each other in silence for a very long time before she is asleep again. Carefully he eases her onto her side and rises from the bed. He covers her with his cloak and lingers for a few moments, watching her sleep soundly, listening to her breathe, then leaves her room, quietly closing the door behind him.
She smiles weakly up at him.
Leaning forward, he gently brushes the hair from her face and caresses her lips with his thumb. "Hello, my pretty girl," he says softly, and her smile widens. "Your Sensei tells me that..." he pauses as if he's not sure what to say, "...you're not feeling well." Her brows knit and he's afraid she's going to cry. She nods and he asks her, though he knows Therion says it's not, "is this something that I have done?" She does cry, but she tells him that it's not his fault. She taps her head and tells him there's something he needs to know, something he needs to see, but that, "I'm afraid of what you'll think of me once you know."
He's not expecting something like that, and has to steel himself. He has to be strong to do this, he knows already, but this...she's afraid of losing his love. How can he comfort her? He takes off his boots and drapes his cloak and robe over the chair, then carefully lays down beside her. His closeness like this has always calmed her, especially when their information transfer has been difficult. But this is different; he knows she's thinking this is the last time she will have this. She plays with the buttons on his shirt, undoing a few of them, then slips in a trembling hand. She touches his warm skin and he wants to kiss her, but he knows where that kiss would lead.
But would that be so bad? He forces himself to stay focused, and when she tells him she's ready to begin, he eases her into the best, most comfortable position for what he has to do. Their eyes meet, their gazes lock, and with a breath, he's in. He enters the safety construct and finds her mental state in disarray. The sky is overcast and cloudy, and he is met with an odd sort of rain. Wind, which whips both the rain and his hair, seems to come from every direction. He steps up to the façade of the blemishless granite cube and waits for the question. He waits only a moment. What is Love? He looks up at the sky, letting her mental rain fall over him. "The most powerful Magic there is," Snape says, and the wall splits.
It opens not to the next level as he's expecting, but directly into the corridor. It's eerily dark, lit with only a few candles now, and the sound of his boots echo as he approaches the black glass door. But...he can not see himself in it. There is no questioning digitized voice this time, and it worries him. He touches the glass but the door does not open, and he remembers he'd set this up intentionally. He has to say something, but he can not recall what. He never thought he'd be doing this for the reason he is.
He knows what he needs is on the other side of this barrier, and if he can't get in to it, he may lose her. How horrible would that be? He steps back and looks at the glass again. He says clearly and evenly, "one is the loneliest number that you'll ever do." The lights flicker on on the other side of the glass, and the door slides open. The light is blindingly bright, but his eyes adjust quickly and when they do, he's right where he should be; at the begining of her breakfast this morning. He ignores Roycroft's behavior and looks at the paper the wizard gave her when she opens it. He nearly chuckles; the list is almost identical to his own. He can't imagine why Dolohov and Rowle aren't also KOS, nor why that vermin Pettigrew--
He sees Malfoy's name at the same time she does, and looks at Roycroft just as she does. Then, he moves around her so he can see her face. She is truly frightened for him, and when she begs Roycroft, Merlin's beard, she begs for Malfoy to be spared...he crouches down beside the table and closes his eyes tightly. The sound of her voice telling Roycroft that Malfoy was brought to meet her...then Roycroft telling her he would do it because he loves her...and when he hears that Malfoy must be brought to them just as he himself had been, Snape swears he'll make Malfoy do it if he has to.
Snape's angry, he wishes he could somehow punch Roycroft just once, but here it would have no more effect than would punching Nearly-Headless Nick. He rises and actually lifts his hand to touch her whispy hair, vowing that she will never know the truth about why Malfoy was there that night. The memory-scene changes around him and he's standing in Therion's bookshop, where he watches and listens and tries to remain as objective as he possibly can be. But when she asks Therion what he knows about Malfoy, he has to sit down. He's surprised and actually relieved by, even grateful for, Therion's reply to her, but when she tells Therion why it doesn't matter that he and Malfoy are Dark, it is as if all the air in his lungs has been sucked out.
She killed someone.
He shakes his head. That can't be...not her, not his dear one...He doesn't pause the flow of her memory, but it does take a few moments for him to compose himself. He listens intently to her every word, trying to picture her parents, imagining them raising her to be a witch. The story about her mother's mother sticks in his mind, as does Therion's expression when she speaks of it, and he wants to tell her that there's nothing ridiculous about it...it tears at him to hear her tell her story, it tears at him to see her weep, but the worst of it is when she talks about her turn to Darkness.
She was wrong! She didn't turn, she just made a mistake, an error in judgement, one anyone in her situation could have made. She found her way back to the Path of Light! He wants to draw out of her mind and explain this to her but he knows he can't yet, and it would do little good for either of them besides. So he continues to listen to her sorrowful story, his heart near to breaking when she speaks of the attack...but the aftermath of it and its effect on her taxes him almost to his limit.
Gods preserve him, she says that she lives for him, and that she can not bear to be diminished in his eyes...it is so much for him to deal with, but he knows, he has to go deeper still. He has to see the actual memories. He doesn't want to, he doesn't want to feel the horror, but he knows he must. He has to see the curse as it happened. He has to witness the casting, and its effects, to know if it was simply Thought and Will as she believes, or if it truly was Magic. And he needs to see her parents if he's to know for sure what they were.
An hour more they are thus joined and at the end when he withdraws from her, he still has questions, but he knows that no matter how much he has loved her, it does not compare to how much he loves her now. He rests his forehead on hers, his eyes tightly shut, and he feels her stir beneath him. She whispers his name and his eyes open. "Elsbet," he says softly, "you have no idea how much you mean to me...when I told you that I would never run from you, that I would never abandon you, I meant it." She tries to hide her face but he holds her gaze. "You did nothing wrong, I need you to understand that. You defended yourself and your parents, and you were far kinder to him than I would have been."
Somehow, regardless of how badly she feels, she finds humor in his comment, which almost makes her feel worse. "Silly girl," Snape whispers and pulls her closer to him, then kisses her trembling lips tenderly. They hold each other in silence for a very long time before she is asleep again. Carefully he eases her onto her side and rises from the bed. He covers her with his cloak and lingers for a few moments, watching her sleep soundly, listening to her breathe, then leaves her room, quietly closing the door behind him.
