Isn't He Lovely-Professor Snape

Deathly Hallows Pt 8

In the subsequent days, the passage of time became a disorienting haze, a relentless march through a landscape of pain and suffering. Following the brutal night of torture, Voldemort's relentless assault temporarily abated. Uncertain whether this respite signaled a reprieve or a mere pause, I clung to the silver lining—the opportunity for my battered body to mend.

The nights presented new challenges of their own. Visitors appeared out of nowhere, trying to break into my castle of seclusion. Still, I was unwavering in my determination to cut them off. The barriers that I built with the pieces of my broken heart stood tall and proud, keeping me safe from more heartache. Guarded against the oncoming shadows, I stood with each brick laid with the last traces of hope and trust.

"Niamh, please. You have to eat," Draco implored, his voice laden with concern.

I remained fixated on the swaying branches of the lemon tree outside, a distant observer in my own reality.

"I know you're in there. You're scaring me. Please, Niamh, let me help you," he pleaded with sincerity, a desperate plea to breach the walls I had erected.

His offer lingered, a silent agreement hanging in the air, unspoken words echoing in the empty space between us.

"I'll leave the food here. Please eat," he uttered before retreating from my room.

My gaze clung to the lemon tree until I closed my eyes, surrendering to the refuge of sleep that beckoned, offering a temporary escape from the relentless torment.

        𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼

I was jolted awake, my name uttered in a soft whisper. "Niamh."

My eyes, adjusting to the dimness, focused on the figure before me. As I shifted in my bed, the approaching dawn revealed Snape standing beside me.

"Niamh, I haven't much time. Please listen. Here—" Snape handed me a book, his words filled with urgency. "Read it, and please eat," he added before quietly exiting the room.

His unexpected kindness left me stunned. Sitting up, I opened the book, only to discover his distinctive handwriting inside.

To who this may concern:

You matter in this world. Your friends need you, I need you.

Emotions welled up as I read his words. Damn you, Severus, always finding a way back into my heart.

Conflicted, I grappled with my feelings. Trusting him seemed perilous, yet the sincerity in his note tugged at the walls I had erected around my heart. The back-and-forth battle within me mirrored the constant struggle of my circumstances.

Despite my reservations, I couldn't deny the sincerity in his plea. His words, combined with the kindness and trust I had put in others, slowly chipped away at my defenses. I caved in, acknowledging the vulnerability I felt. Determined, I reached for the cold, unappetizing oatmeal on the nightstand and ate. It might not have been a feast, but it was sustenance—the first step towards reclaiming strength and purpose.

As I chewed the tasteless morsels, I realized it wasn't just for Snape; it was for my friends. In the bleakness of my current existence, they were the only people that truly mattered to me.

        𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼

The late morning cast a muted glow in the room, and the silence lingered since Snape's visit. Deciding to conceal any suspicion, I returned the book to its place on the shelf.

Abruptly, the door creaked open, revealing Draco's entrance. Surprise painted his features upon seeing me.

In his hands, he carried a bowl, and my immediate response was a groan, "Better not be oatmeal."

The bowl slipped from his grasp, shattering on the floor. His eyes widened in disbelief, stammering, "I-uh-Niamh."

I cleared my throat, breaking his momentary trance. "I'll get this cleaned up," he hurriedly uttered, using his wand to swiftly tidy the mess. Without a word, he exited, presumably to fetch more food.

The wait stretched for a few minutes before he returned, this time presenting a plate with a slice of toast and some fruit.

Hungry, I began to eat, and the room was filled with the sounds of consumption. No conversation passed between us until I finished.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"It's so good to hear your voice," he whispered, his words carrying a sense of relief.

His eyes bore into mine, a depth of pain evident. Before I could articulate my thoughts, Draco interrupted, his words punctuated by suppressed sobs, "I was so worried about you, Niamh. It's been weeks since anyone has heard you talk, and almost a week since you've eaten. What happened?"

His concern struck a chord within me. In the depths of my despair, I hadn't considered the impact my silence and suffering might have on others.

"Being here, Draco. Being held against my will and getting tortured for information. How could you-" I jabbed my finger into his chest, "follow someone like that? How could you allow for such evil to occur in your own home?" My voice heightened, fueled by anger rather than sorrow.

I refrained from shedding tears. It wasn't sadness that consumed me, but a seething anger at the choices he and his family had made.

"I-no, Niamh, please. We're not doing this," he implores, shaking his head. It's as if he's battling with his own internal dialogue.

"Draco, you're of age. Make the right choice. You don't have to do this," I warn, hoping to reach some part of him.

His eyes momentarily soften, but then he tenses up and snaps, "Don't you understand? Life's not black and white, Niamh. It's not that easy, and I don't know why you don't understand." With that, he storms off, leaving me with the weight of his internal struggles lingering in the air.

Shit.

I sigh. I made some progress on him, I just have to pick better wording next time.

I set the food on the nightstand and get ready for the first time in a while. I get out of bed and go to the bathroom to shower.

It was one of the best feelings, putting a smile on my face. I paid close attention to all my cuts on my body, making sure to clean them.

After I got out of the shower I went back to the main room and went to the dresser to press my luck and see if there's any clothes for me to wear.

"Yes!" I yell in delight

There is a sage green loose jumpsuit, and next to it is a black T-shirt.

I put that on and feel so comfortable.

I settle by the window, my eyes taking in the serene landscape outside. The snow-covered ground creates a pristine blanket, transforming the surroundings into a winter wonderland. The cold beauty of the scene is both calming and haunting.

While I'm still aware of the beautiful lemon tree, I make a conscious effort to broaden my focus to the entirety of the view. The crisp air outside seems to hold a promise of change, and my determination to make a difference intensifies.

The old me resurfaces, now equipped with a newfound confidence. I ponder on the ways to contribute positively in this dark place. One task stands out—helping Draco shift to the side of good. I want more than just an alliance; I aspire to be friends with him, showing that there's a way out of this darkness and that I'm here for him as much as he's here for me.

        𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼