Shit, I'm Falling For A Weasley || George Weasley

Prologue

~.~.~.~.~.~

In the darkness of a cold winter's night, a young child screams trapped in yet another nightmare. She calls out, sweat dripping down her face, or was it her tears? Crying in pain, the child squeezes her eyes shut. The build up of anger, the fear causing her heart to pump erratically in her chest, she finds herself imprisoned once again replaying that night. 

Lost in her own mental torture, she does not feel her palms heating up. Mumbling incoherently, she jerks violently, trying to escape, but it's no use. The nightmares plague her as a reminder of her sins. For the rest of her life she would carry the burden; memory of the night that destroyed everything. 

Shaking her head, she turns to her side, palms outreaching for someone, anyone. As the only living individual with the memory, she was alone in carrying her pain. Poetic, considering it was her actions that led to the tragedy. Her jerking intensifies, her screams echoing the silent halls. 

Severus Snape sits by the door, unable to do anything to help the child. His hand trembles as he reaches out hesitantly. Every night he would watch the same torture and every night he would helpless in preventing it from returning. Like a broken cassette, he watches her palms ignite with a small flame. It's only when she screams his name does he move to hold her. But as he pulls her towards him, the flame intensifies, burning yet another garment of his. He flinches, but does not let go of her small body as the flame grows.

It did not matter though. 

Once Severus had reached out for her, there was nothing that would stop him from cradling her. Even though she would bawl for another five minutes at least, causing the flames to strengthen. Each night he would mentally scold himself for failing at finding some relief for her, a potion, a spell, anything to unburden her. Tomorrow, he would always silently promise her, hoping that this tomorrow would be the day he would succeed. 

Stroking her hair, he grits his teeth remaining stony faced, knowing that the nightmare was reaching its peak and end. Her hands reach out; her voice cracks. They meet the soft fingers of Severus Snape, as they grab on, squeezing them tightly. Slowly the flame extinguishes, adding another set of scars, which were never shown to the child. Exhausted, Severus smiles as he presses his lips on her forehead. That was his promise to the child. She would never know the pain that he fought night after night, nor would she ever experience a nightmare alone. Whilst there was still life in his body, Severus would ensure he did everything in his power to protect her. 

The child exhales shakily as she turns to get more comfortable. Still in his arms, she lets out a silent whimper, before relaxing into a dreamless sleep for the rest of the night. When she wakes the next morning, alone in her room, unable to remember the horrors of the previous night, she would be oblivious to the small sacrifices a man would make to ensure she was never alone. 

But in that moment, Severus looks out of the window, his grip on her tightening. Shutting his eyes, his mind races, mentally sorting through the many books he read on subduing nightmares. 

He had to find a solution. 

Until then, he would always be there for her. No matter how many times he got burnt. No matter how long the nightmare lasts, he would be there for every second just so that she would not have to go through it alone. 

Never again.