Shadow and Light {Severus Snape x OC}

Chapter 15

She ran as fast as her body would allow, each movement a challenge, every step a superhuman effort. The tourniquet she had made with the Ferula spell barely held the wound together, but the pain was unbearable, and her mind was too clouded to attempt a Vulnera Sanentur. That spell required focus, calm, and surgical precision, which she no longer had the capacity for in her current state.

Automatically, she made her way toward the dungeons after passing through the entrance of the school. The infirmary seemed too far away, and the risks of encountering Umbridge or Filch along the way were too high. She had no time for questions.

Upon entering the dungeons, she rushed toward Snape's desk. There, she knew she might find potions or remedies, something to help her survive. She pushed the door open with a spell, her hand trembling, and threw herself at the shelves, searching in haste. But nothing. Nothing that could help her.

"The Dictame comb..." she murmured, a cold shiver running down her spine as she realized the gravity of the situation.

She felt her energy draining with every heartbeat, swept away by the blood loss that continued to escape despite the tourniquet. Each breath became a struggle, each movement unbearable. Her body protested, but she refused to collapse. Not yet.

In a final burst of resistance, Alice forced herself to concentrate. She approached Severus' special cabinet, her mind foggy but determined. She turned the handle, but the cabinet was empty. Nothing. A cry of despair rose in her throat. Then, with terrifying clarity, she understood that she should have gone to the infirmary from the start. It didn't matter if Umbridge was there, it didn't matter the questions or the lies she would have had to give. That was where she stood a chance. There, she might have survived.

She took a step toward the exit, but everything had become too heavy. The pain, the weakness, the blood loss had caught up with her. She staggered.

Then, with a dull thud, she lost her balance and crashed to the floor.

Her hand, like a dead weight, seemed far too heavy. Yet, she forced herself to raise it, grabbing her wand with the energy of desperation. In one final motion, she whispered, her mind half lost in the fog of pain:

"Expecto Patronum..."

A flash of light shot from her wand, and a small doe appeared, bright and vibrant, leaping immediately across the room, its movement swift and determined, slicing through the heavy air. Alice, exhausted, sank into the darkness of unconsciousness, her last hopes fading into a soft, distant mist.

November 11, 1981. Eleven days had passed since the tragedy that had taken the Potters from life, leaving behind a void that nothing seemed capable of filling. The magical world was divided: some mourned the loss of the two fighters in silence, but the majority celebrated loudly the end of an era of terror. For them, the fall of Voldemort was a victory, but for those who had lost loved ones in the struggle, this victory had a bitter taste.

Alice, however, had not closed her eyes in days. She wore the heavy cloak of mourning, wrapped in the loss of her best friend, Lily. Her thoughts were a dark labyrinth of guilt, worry, and fear.
She now found herself raising little Harry, still a baby, as fragile and innocent as any child could be at that age. Harry's cries, his laughter, his innocent gaze reminded her every day that Lily was no longer there to watch over him, and it threw her into deep anxiety. She dreaded every moment of potentially failing him. She wondered if she would ever be able to give him all the love he deserved.

Today, Remus Lupin had visited her. He too was shattered, a burden of anxiety and sadness weighing heavily on him. Together, they supported each other as best they could, trying to lighten the burden of their shared grief. But in the middle of the day, they had received the dreadful news: Sirius had been sent to Azkaban. His trial had been canceled, and the jury had decided that he was irredeemably guilty, sealing his fate without trial. For Remus, the shock was profound; he spent the day trying to understand, to rationalize, but no explanation could fill the injustice he felt.