Isn't He Lovely-Professor Snape

Summer Pt 1

In less than a second, a searing pain courses through me, forcing me to collapse onto the unforgiving ground with an audible thud. Slowly, I gather myself, but an uneasy feeling lingers. I scan the surroundings, desperately searching for the burrow that has inexplicably vanished. Instead, an enormous house dominates the scene, surrounded by towering grass and a solitary tree.

As I rise, my breathing becomes irregular, each inhalation a struggle. Intrusive thoughts of my impending demise flood my mind, causing involuntary tremors. Overwhelmed, I succumb to the ground, my eyes heavy with exhaustion. Even with closed eyes, I sense the comforting warmth of the sun's rays piercing through.

The fleeting solace is soon replaced by a chill as the sunlight wanes. The cumulative effects of blood loss and searing pain intensify, pushing me precariously close to the brink of death. Each breath is a labored battle for air. In that moment of vulnerability, I contemplate surrender, yet a flicker of determination compels me to press on, to defy the encroaching darkness. The stark reality of my surroundings heightens the intensity of the pain, making it feel as though I am teetering on the edge of existence.

As my eyes flutter open, I'm aware of a gentle yet firm presence lifting me, eliciting a wince of pain. Despite the blurry vision, the unmistakable outline of the person brings an instant sense of recognition and reassurance.

Long, luscious black hair obscures most of his face as he envelops me in the protective folds of his cape. A tender kiss lands on my forehead, radiating comfort that instantly dispels the remnants of pain. In that moment, safety emanates from him, transforming the harsh surroundings into a haven of solace. Cradling my head against his chest, I find refuge in his embrace, the world outside momentarily forgotten.

In a sudden blur of motion, he apparated, depositing me onto a bed in a place unfamiliar to my disoriented senses. The room, shrouded in an enigmatic atmosphere, was dimly lit with an ethereal glow, casting intricate shadows on ornate furniture that seemed to whisper of secrets.

Adjusting me on the bed, he propped my head and feet up, creating an oddly comforting but disconcerting sense of elevation. As I looked down at my battered form, the cuts, bruises, and swollen limbs seemed even more ominous in this unfamiliar setting, heightening the disorientation.

With a wave of his wand, he initiated the healing process, and a subtle, otherworldly light emanated from its tip. I felt the peculiar sensation of bones mending, a surreal experience amplified by the mysterious surroundings. The cuts followed suit, gradually succumbing to the magic that knitted them back together.

The room, devoid of recognizable landmarks, felt both alien and strangely intimate. The only constant was the soft illumination from enchanted candles, casting a gentle glow that hinted at the unknown. As the healing progressed, a profound weariness settled in. I managed to whisper my gratitude, "Thank you," before surrendering to the allure of sleep, enveloped by the mystique of the unfamiliar place.

        𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼

As I drifted in and out of consciousness, he remained a steadfast presence by my side, occupying a chair to my right.

"How are you feeling?" he inquired, his voice carrying a mix of concern and remorse.

"I'm feeling much better, but my whole body still aches," I responded, noting the persistent discomfort. He nodded in acknowledgment.

The weight of unspoken truths hung in the air, and I couldn't ignore the palpable tension. "You could have gotten in a lot of trouble for talking to me," I remarked, seeking clarity.