Isn't He Lovely-Professor Snape

Post War Pt 9

Restless and anxious, I tossed and turned in the unfamiliar bed, my thoughts consumed by worry and uncertainty. Every creak of the floorboards and rustle of the curtains seemed to echo the turmoil within me, amplifying the sense of unease that gnawed at my insides.

Without Severus by my side, sleep eluded me like a distant dream. His presence had always been a source of comfort and security, a shield against the nightmares that haunted my nights. But now, with him gone on a secret mission, the darkness seemed to close in around me, suffocating me with its oppressive weight.

I tried to distract myself, to focus on anything other than the looming sense of dread that threatened to consume me. I counted the stars outside the window, tracing imaginary constellations in the sky in a futile attempt to calm my racing thoughts.

But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom that hung over me like a shroud. Every shadow seemed to hold hidden threats, every sound a potential danger lurking in the darkness.

Hours passed in agonizing slowness, the minutes stretching into eternity as I lay there, trapped in my own mind. The first light of dawn began to filter through the window, casting a pale glow across the room, but still, sleep remained elusive, a distant mirage on the horizon.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, I finally admitted defeat, resigning myself to another sleepless night. With a heavy heart, I sat up to get out of bed and left the room to go downstairs.

As I descended the stairs, the weight of exhaustion hung heavy upon me, my mind plagued by relentless worries and fears. The early morning light filtered through the windows, casting a soft glow over the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley was bustling about, preparing breakfast with her usual motherly efficiency.

Her warm smile greeted me as I entered the room, but it faltered slightly when she caught sight of the exhaustion etched upon my face. Concern flickered in her eyes, a silent question hanging in the air, but she refrained from voicing it, knowing all too well the struggles I faced with sleepless nights and haunting nightmares.

Instead, she simply gestured for me to take a seat at the table, her movements gentle and reassuring. "Good morning, dear. It's lovely to see you up and about," she greeted me warmly, her voice filled with genuine affection.

Returning her smile with a weary one of my own, I sank into a chair at the table, the weight of fatigue dragging at my limbs. "Good morning, Molly," I replied softly, my voice tinged with exhaustion.

As she served up a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, and toast, I couldn't help but marvel at her boundless energy and unwavering kindness. It was as though she possessed an innate ability to sense when others were struggling, her maternal instincts kicking into overdrive as she went about caring for those around her.

I watched in silence as she moved about the kitchen, her skilled hands working with practiced efficiency as she plated up breakfast.
The tantalizing aroma of freshly cooked food filled the air, mingling with the comforting scent of home and hearth.

When she finally turned to face me, her expression softened with concern as she took in the dark circles beneath my eyes. "My dear, you look positively exhausted," she remarked gently, her voice filled with sympathy.

I offered her a weak smile, my gratitude for her understanding and compassion swelling within me. "It's been a long night," I admitted quietly, my words carrying the weight of sleepless hours spent lost in a sea of anxiety and uncertainty.

Without hesitation, Mrs. Weasley stepped closer, her arms opening in a silent invitation. "Whenever you feel tired, dear, you just let me know. I'll be right here to keep you company until you fall asleep," she offered, her voice brimming with warmth and reassurance.