Just beneath the surface

Chapter 11

There was something to be said about surrendering her freedoms to Professor Snape.
One, that Ella hated it, and two, that there was a strange comfort in being cared for by the Professor.

The days seemed to pass by increasingly quick, her saving grace in that she had no nightmares and did not feel the urge to harm herself whislt under constant supervision. Of course, Professor Snape had been researching the supposed curse he believed her to have and had spent the majority of their time together reading or brewing potions he oftentimes poured away with a disgruntled sigh. Ella longed to brew herself- longed to be allowed to take up her usual academic pursuits now that she was feeling slightly better- though no amount of pouting or polite asking changed Professor Snape's mind. She was a danger to herself; and he would not witness it.

Professor Snape watched Ella in the coming days with a keen eye that made him long for a sleep so deep he might never wake from it. He knew how much she hated surrendering her privacy to him- that she wanted nothing more than to impress him and her other professors with groundbreaking theories or work that would easily have earnt her a place in the ministry beside her parents. 

Which, undeniably, was a problem. 

Proffesor Snape had researched curses and hexes and potions and everything dark there was to know about the arts. He didn't like any of the conclusions. Mainly, the one that pointed at Ella's parents somehow being responsible for their own daughter's demise. It made sense, truly. Ella had returned from that christmas break a shell of the former pupil Hogwarts had known. She was lifeles. Sullen. Sick. 

A curse cast by her own parents was the only explanation and he longed to find a reason for it. 

It was this thought which had him staring into his dinner plate as Ella picked at her own food beside him. He was cross with her. Cross that such a clever girl could have developed such a problem with her eating that she looked sickly and thin enough to break. 

Proffesor Snape sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He wasn't looking forward to this conversation, or, perhaps battle might be a better phrase for what would inevitably pass between him and the Ravenclaw student.

"You should know Miss White that your ability to starve yourself into a ghost does not impress me. Rather, I find it disturbing and not at all like you."

Ella's already pale face visibly whitened, a determined edge to her jaw shaping, a defiance in her eyes Proffesor Snape had not had the pleasure of witnessing before. "I'm not hungry."

Proffesor Snape sighed. "Forgive me, Miss White, when I say I do not believe you."

"Then don't." A hardness settled in her voice. A promise that she would not give in if he didn't approach the topic cautiously. Perhaps, in weeks to come he might find the right things to say, the correct way to encourage her to eat. For now, there was only what he knew. 

He couldn't stop his face from softening or the way he reached across the table and grasped her hands in his, their coldness a stark reminder of how unwell the student was. He'd have to remember to check on the injuries on her wrists too lest they become infected again and she refrain from telling him. He didnt think she had harmed herself in recent days, though, as becoming increasingly clear, Ella White was not as easily predicatble as she had been for her first five years at Hogwarts.

Her fingers twitched in his, the bones of her fingers so fragile that he couldn't help the shattering feeling in his chest. "Ella, please," he began softly, relief washing through him as her jaw lost that determined set. "I know you are going through difficult feelings but you cannot truly believe that you are alright? This false display of defiance is a mockery of the girl I have come to know as my apprentice. Please do not insult either of us by pretending you are alright."

Ella blinked slowly, her eyes dragging between her plate and Proffessor Snape's gaze. "I can't," she whispered. "I'm in control of this, I can't eat."

It was a similar sentiment to other students that Proffessor Snape had dealt with who had eating  disorders. The need for control rather than a desire to take up the smallest amount of room possible. However more often than not the control they thought they had ran away with them and left shells of sick students too unwell to stay at school.

"I know it's hard, sweetheart," he said softly, his chest constricting as salty tears flowed down her cheeks and dripped onto the solid wood of the table below. "But I won't allow you to give in, Ella. You can do this, and we will do it together. So please, eat some of your chicken."

Proffesor Snape hadn't expected it to work. But, slowly, surely, Ella began to cut at the chicken breast, lifting her fork to her mouth and chewing slowly as tears leaked down her face. 

Every choked sob she took in between mouthfuls made Proffessor Snape want to throw himself out of a window. 

But surely, with enough tears to fill the black lake Ella ate the food and collapsed back into her chair, silent sobs racking her body. Snape's body moved before he had any conscience of what he was doing, moving to her chair and lifting her into his arms. 

Ella buried her face in his chest, the tears soaking into his black shirt as he carried her to the settee by the fire and held her as she wept. He woudn't risk allowing her to leave the room and make herself throw up. If they had to endure this they would endure it till the end. 

But god it was fucking painful. Her body so tiny as he held her to him, a strange comfort in shielding her from the rest of the world. 

"It's okay, you're alright," he murmured, stroking her hair until her cries ebbed and she settled into the soundness of sleep.

Hello hello, SO SORRY that i've not been here! I hope you enjoy this chapter x