Always - Severus Snape (COMPLETE)

Mysteries

Somewhere, deep down, Severus had known he would have to go back home. Outwardly, he had hoped, foolishly, that Mr and Mrs Evans would turn out to be the kindly couple from the fairy tales that would spirit him off and adopt him, and he and Lily could stay together forever. But, of course, it wasn't to be.

It was Mrs Evans to whom he first mentioned it.

"I'll have to go, won't I?" He asked quietly. Severus had been helping the woman prepare dinner. Mr Evans and the girls were in the living room, watching a show Severus didn't care for – something called Doctor Who. But the man could hardly be a doctor; he was unlike the ones Severus had seen in hospital: killing alien machines with a screwdriver and making up rules as he went along.

Mrs Evans sighed. She'd known it was coming, but she was incredibly fond of the boy now and didn't want to see him leave. Her husband was adamant that he should be returned to his parents – after all, that was their job, to look out for him.

"Yes," she answered finally.

"Soon?"

"In time." A tear dripped down her face.

Severus averted his eyes, giving the woman some privacy, however this caused his hand to jerk and for him to nick his finger on the knife.

"Severus!" Rose exclaimed. The boy glanced down interestedly, showing no pain or discomfort, or uneasiness at the jewel of blood that emerged from his cut. She shoved him into a chair. "Are you feeling faint, or sick?"

"Of course not," Severus scoffed. "It's only a cut."

It was, but it went from the tip of his finger to his knuckle and looked rather deep.

"Look," Severus said, standing up and sounding incredibly grown-up. "I'll wash it and it'll be fine." He stood before the sink and rinsed off the blood, before examining his finger. "See," he showed it to the uncertain woman, "all gone."

"I'll get a plaster," she said, and walked out. Severus shook his head, confused. He still didn't understand. If a stranger had entered his house and stayed for a few days, would he be this sentimental? He highly doubted it.

Mrs Evans re-entered the kitchen and applied the plaster to his finger.

"Now, you sit down and I'll finish chopping up the vegetables," she ordered, bustling back to the counter.

"Aren't you supposed to let small cuts breathe?" Severus questioned, still curious, sitting. Mrs Evans stared at him. Why was a nine year-old so intrigued? They were supposed to be excited by other things – namely, Doctor Who. "I read it in one of the hospital's magazines," he shrugged.

"You are meant to let small cuts get air, that's right, Severus," Rose replied. "However, that is not a small cut, whatever you say, and does need a plaster. Leaving a wound uncovered may dry out new surface cells, which can increase the pain of the wound or slow the healing process." She'd been taught that when she was a nurse. "Putting a plaster on it ensures that it won't get dirt in it, or kill new skin and other cells. Also, it means you can't cause yourself any more injuries." She gave him a sharp look and he returned it with his trademark glare.

"I don't usually injure myself," he said, annoyed.

Mrs Evans didn't miss the inflection on 'myself'.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"Oh, it's nothing," answered Severus, looking away. "Poor choice of words, I suppose."

"Yes," said Mrs Evans, staring hard at him. "Yes, it was."

*****

A.N. Severus realises he can't stay away from his own family forever, and the time for confession is nearing. A cosy interaction between Severus and Rose Evans.

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