Senses

Chapter 17

The world outside raged with a storm that seemed almost unnatural in its force. The entire muggle street was deserted, only the street lamps flickering as the storm threatened the power. Severus turned his eyes towards the house that stood abandoned, the muggle repellent charm standing strong even after all this time. He could sense the charm's creator and for a brief second—the smallest of moments, he wondered if they were still living.

The death eaters who had been sent to lay a trap had long since been relocated so he had no fear about crossing over the wards. Such a modest home, clean and well maintained, it was just what he would have expected.

The front door opened without a sound but the air inside smelled thick, musty with a hint of iron just beneath. The door opened up to a modest entranceway, that had three paths, one to the sitting room, one to what appeared to be a study and a staircase. From his vantage, he could easily see the dislodged furniture from a struggle and the large bloodstain that covered the wood floor leading into what he supposed was the kitchen.

His lips pursed tight but he resisted his curiosity for the moment and turned to take the stairs. A silent lumos spell ensured his ascent, the soft carpet keeping his footfalls silent. The light from his spell caught on the frames lining the wall but he didn't turn his head to examine them. No doubt they were filled with family photos of happy memories never to be made again.

The first door he came across led to a bathroom, to which he paid no attention. The floor beneath his foot creaked as he neared the next door and he turned his head down. His stomach grew cold from the smeared handprint along the bottom of the wall. Too small to have been a man's, he could only guess to which female of the house it belonged.

Despite the unease growing in his chest, he lowered his light down, following the splattered blood. There had definitely been a fight, a powerful one, the curse marks were evidence of that. The trail led to another door, that sat partially off its hinges. The light from the storm outside highlighting the blue wooden H mounted to the door.

His eyes raised from the carpet where a dark stain radiated out from the center. The desk chair that had apparently been pulled from its proper place laying sideways in the center over the stain. His stance shifted as he enlarged the light on his wand following the path the struggle. The entire room was covered in cast off. A big struggle evident by the darkness left behind.

Another step made something crunch under his boot and he paused to get a look. A picture frame, with a single tooth inside. He was very sure Miss Granger had all her teeth and felt a small bit of hope that perhaps one of her pursuers had lost more than that in the struggle.

His next more careful step brought him over to the desk that miraculously appeared undamaged. A single journal sat in the center, its baby blue cover tainted by a large puddle that had collected overtop. He raised it up from the wood top turning it in his hand before slipping it into his enlarged cloak pocket.

Trying to ignore the obvious; he opened the top drawer, smirking at the neatly organized pens, pencils and quills inside. With only a small shake of his head, he closed the drawer before turning his attention towards the bed. His entire reason for being there was to find something of hers that would bring her comfort. Something that smelled of the past. Something—that maybe—just maybe, could jog that secret little place inside her mind.

He had remembered Lily's room being filled with stuffed toys and other small things that made her feel warm and safe and had thus taken the risk. He'd never even thought about the home lives of the children he taught, and standing inside the room—despite its obvious circumstance—felt like an out of body experience.