Severus stood a few paces before her. His eyes were on the ruined cauldron.
"Tell me," his voice shook, and tears formed in his eyes, "why do you wear flowers in your hair?"
He kept looking to his cauldron.
"I don't understand."
"How does such a sim...
Dried spots tinted the note, the crinkled note. Severus folded it, tucking it back into his pocket. How long had he saved it?
Footfalls died away. Silence returned to the halls.
Months, then. Months since they last spoke of bezoars or tears.
She even ceased trying to speak to him as class ended. He always left before she could look him in the eyes.
Better that way. For her.
Severus slammed the poetry book onto the floor. He leaned forward in his armchair, drooping his face into his palms. Clenching his jaw, stress lining his face.
How long since he suspended lessons? He turned to the drapes. The ones only she freed on Christmas. Warmth and light blocked into a place he could not bear.
Six months.
Half a year since. And soon July loomed before them.
Severus brought up a finger to his lips. A ghost of a touch. A softness he hoped to forget. He cupped his glass, and downed the Peace Draught. A potion he needed now. But in spite, conscience won.
The flames danced in the firelight like they always had. Like it still believed in a form of happiness.
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯○○◯○○⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
"If you're here . . ." her voice faltered against the stone. Endless stone, only she knew this was the place."If you're not at a meeting . . . I just miss you."
Palm flat against the cool stone. Believe me, she reassured herself. Believe me, I tried. I tried leaving him alone. But Dumbledore gave me a task to do. To stand by him.
