Forever and Always Yours, SS [Book 3]

Chapter 133

The sound of doctors and nurses speaking out in the hall and warmth from the open window filled the room. Heavy blankets lay on the bed, and a chain rattled. Jasmine and roses scented the air.

Severus groaned softly and tried to get his thick tongue through his lips, but he found them dry and desperate for water.

He was confused as he was not hearing the water lap at the stones in the boathouse or feel the old stones under his body but instead, a somewhat soft bed.

Something soft was holding his hand and rubbing against his thumb. Severus tried to move his arm to let whoever was next to him know that he was awake, but it was heavy and numb, and cold metal was clamped onto his wrists.

Again, Severus groaned softly. He needed to do something; he felt trapped, and panic began to rise in him.

His heart beat fiercely in his chest as he struggled to gain control of his body. His mind ran a million miles a minute, but something was wrong. He was not where he should have been. What happened to Harry Potter and his friends? Did they get away safely after they found him? Did Voldemort win?

EVERYTHING IS WRONG!

He tried to yell but could not get his voice to work.

No, no, no, no. He shook his head a little and focused on his eyes. If he could just see where he was, then maybe he could get some help.

Something beside him moved, a small gasping sound that almost sounded doubtful.

Severus continued working on his eyes. He could feel his eyeballs rolling around behind his eyelids. Severus willed himself to slow his breathing; he knew he was beginning to hyperventilate, which would do him no good.

Slowly he regained some sense of control; the panic that had held him now was fading away. Not as slowly as he wished, though.

Carefully he raised his eyebrows, pulling the skin of his eyelids taut. Severus focused deeply on breaking the seam. He imagined that little creatures were pulling on each of his eyelashes, working their magic to open his eyes.

Slowly, a slit opened, and a small sliver of light seeped into his eyes. Even though it was small, it glared, momentarily blinding him. Severus had to fight the urge with everything he had not to close his eyes. He knew if he did, he would never open them again.

Severus relaxed his eyebrows briefly before forcing them up as high as they could. More gaping let in more of the binding light, but this time and the time after were not as jarring to his senses.

Now, he could see fully. The room was a soft yellow, warm and inviting, but it was not the castle or his room at Spinner's End.

The window had a faded blue curtain that gently blew in the breeze.

Picturesque farms sat in old dusty frames, reminding him of when his wife was in a room similar to this.

Severus then knew where he was. Yes, he was at St. Mungo's. But why?

He blinked and continued looking around the room. It was a small room, which told him it was very private. The Healers probably assumed he would not live or forever be in whatever state he was in before he woke.

Next to him was a chair that was filled with a blurry body. Severus closed his eyes; they were burning.

Severus breathed deeply, filling his nose with the Jasmine and rose scent. It tickled his nose.

Slowly he turned his stiff neck and opened his eyes again. There he saw the person sitting in the chair. Amilia.