Isobel ━ SEVERUS SNAPE

16. Fulfilling a promise

1995 June 26, Caithness
Isobel and Severus found themselves drifting off to sleep in the salon, nestled in their respective armchairs, their hands almost reaching out to one another as they rested upon the handrails.

As the night wore on, they both sought refuge in the pages of a book that caught their fancy from the shelves. Isobel had chosen a cherished muggle classic, one of Charlotte Bronte's masterpieces that she had read countless times before, while Severus was engrossed in a tome about the famed alchemist Nicholas Flamel and his wondrous creations. Despite their differing interests, they both lost themselves in the world of words and imagination.

But as the night wore on, Severus succumbed to sleep first, his peaceful countenance bringing a light chuckle to Isobel's lips as she glanced over at him. She reached for a blanket, tenderly tucking it around his slumbering form, her heart warming at the sight of him so serene, a rare occurrence indeed. With a gentle hand, she also plucked the book from his grasp, her own eyes growing heavy with fatigue. Settling back into her armchair, she continued reading in the hushed stillness of the night, the sound of their steady breathing the only accompaniment to the silence.

As the clock neared 10ish, however, Isobel stirred from her slumber, awoken by the gentle rays of sunlight filtering through the window. Isobel took a moment to survey her surroundings, her gaze lingering on the still-sleeping man in the adjacent armchair. He had fallen asleep just as he sat, his body relaxed and peaceful.

Her eyes then flickered towards their hands, almost intertwined, and a soft blush crept onto her cheeks. Over the course of the year, their relationship had transformed and deepened, and she found herself caring for the man more than she ever thought she could. Perhaps it was a side effect of the vow she had taken, she thought to herself, but she knew that wasn't the truth. She had come to appreciate the way he spoke, his occasional jokes, his unwavering presence in her life, and most of all, the gentle touch of his hand.

Isobel remained still, not daring to move, until she noticed the man's eyes beginning to flutter open, twenty minutes later.

"Good morning," she whispered, her voice soft and hushed, not wanting to startle him. He only responded with a low hum, still half-asleep and drowsy. "Minty," she then whispered into the thin air. "Be kind and please prepare something for disjune," she added, as a faint pop echoed through the air, and the small, mischievous creature appeared, eager to please. In a flurry of activity, the elf set to work, rustling pots and pans, the clanging of metal and the sizzle of spices filling the room.

Severus slowly came to, his senses awakening with each passing moment. As his eyes roamed over the room, he was suddenly struck by the sight of the woman beside him. Memories, both sweet and bitter, flooded his mind, each one playing out like a scene from a forgotten dream. With a deep breath, he gathered his thoughts and composed himself, ready to face the day ahead.

"Are you alright?" Isobel asked then, still speaking carefully.

"Completely. But are you?" he retorted.

"I am trying not to think about it until we get there. But even so, my stomach is flipping constantly. I suppose it does have an effect on me, after all."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No, there definitely is not. I have to do this, I have to face this. My actions require me to accept the consequences...And I knew that if I were to join him, I would need to prove my loyalty somehow. I knew about it, I was just too oblivious to see. But even so, you are here with me, and that is more than enough."

"You shouldn't blame yourself. He left you, after all, he betrayed you."

"He might have, but death is not something he deserves for that."