Severus Snape A Soul Undiminished

Chapter 3 - Mettle

Chapter 3

Mettle

Severus had seriously intended to face away from this woman to give her privacy until she was dried and dressed, but the sharp sound of pain from her startled him into turning to look at her. He noticed the obvious reason for her discomfort, feeling a twinge of pain in his own body at the thought of how she had acquired all the injuries he could see in spite of the towel covering her. He drew his wand out of his sleeve again, noticing how she held her head up as if to steel herself against whatever was coming. He hesitated, acknowledging momentarily the admiration he had for this woman's will, then flashed his wand. Her wounds faded, leaving only traces of her abuse at Lucius's hands. He would find the healing potions to completely remove any sign of scars and any trace of pain, but this would have to do for the time being.

He lurched forward as he saw her start to collapse, realizing that the relief from the pain she was carrying was almost unbearable in its swiftness. He reached out and caught her, then in one fluid motion, swung her legs up to carry her out of the room. He sat her in a chair in the living room, and seeing her secure her towel around herself, turned and went back to retrieve the fresh clothes for her. When he returned, he motioned to the small tray of food and drink on the table next to her chair. He saw her glimpse up at him with a grateful smile as she accepted the clean garments. Severus then turned to leave to the study to again offer her privacy while she donned the fresh clothes and ate. He was sure it had been too long a time since she had either.

He sat down at his desk and wiped his large hands over his face, leaning back in his chair exasperatedly. Absently looking at the wall of books in his study, he wondered how he could possibly explain any of this to Headmaster Dumbledore. He had avoided scrutinizing his feelings since he left Malfoy Manor with this mystery of a Muggle woman...or perhaps she was more than meets the eye, as Lucius had suspected. Severus held his own suspicions though, as he had sensed something about her that he couldn't put his finger on. He was not a fearful man, and his time as a Death Eater, as well as the devastating loss of his dear Lily, had robbed him of most of his gentler emotions, but something about this woman had evoked a sense of fear...maybe of losing her. He had lost Lily to their arrogant classmate, James Potter, which utterly devastated him, only to find what utter devastation meant when he lost her again, and finally, to death. He put those memories aside for now—he had relived them a lifetime's worth in his mind over the years. He turned his thoughts back to the present, and the woman who was presently in the very next room. There was something about her that seemed to stir something in him that he had not considered for many years. He felt more than pity for her, or even compassion, which were still in his thoughts. He felt an intense attraction to her, more than to her physical appearance—something about her whole being that he felt deep into his own. He scoffed at himself, sitting upright in his chair, chastising himself for his sudden flights of fancy. Surely all of this was just a reaction to having a lost, helpless, beautiful woman in his home...he revised that thought in his mind—no, not helpless. She had already proved her mettle against Lucius, and was not in a heap on the floor, wailing and sobbing as any other Muggle, or even witch for that matter, would be doing at this very moment. He felt the need rising again in him to protect this woman from further harm. He suddenly vowed to follow through with whatever this mystery held, and to see it to its ending, for good or bad.

Severus rose quickly from his chair to go face the person who caused more uncertainty and fear than he had felt for a long time, knowing that he had passed the point of being able to turn away from her and return to his solitude without knowing—what, he thought. Without knowing what?! He refused to let that thought bloom. He would not even consider the preposterous chance of finding love again. Whatever the future held with this woman, he would not allow himself the hope of anyone ever loving him. He had written that thought off long ago, and he would not be so foolish again to open his heart to the possibility. He stormed into the living room in a much darker mood than he had started off in.

Sirana started a little as Severus barged into the room. She had finished dressing and gratefully helped herself to the food and wine he had provided. There was a little of each, and she thought it was most likely intentional to keep her from getting sick after having gone so long without. He glanced briefly at her when he entered the room—to make sure she was clothed and awake, she assumed—then asked her to follow him in that strange yet deep, alluring voice of his.

He led her to the bedroom and motioned to the bed. "I apologize that my rooms include only one bed. You are welcome to it, or at least, one side of it. I'm sure you are quite tired after your ordeal."

She lowered the hood of her outer robe, doffing it to lay it on the large reading chair. She then quickly slid under the covers, rolled to her side, and adjusted the pillow under her head. She looked up briefly to lock eyes with Severus, and sleepily said, "Thank you," before falling fast asleep.

Severus knew that she must be exhausted, wondering how she had managed to make it this far without collapsing, but he felt something gently tug on his heart when she said 'thank you' to him. For all she knew, Severus considered, he could treat her as badly as Lucius had, maybe even worse, and yet, she had put enough trust in him—a complete stranger—to fall asleep in his bed, as if...as if they were lovers...? He thought about what Lucius had said about her being pure and changed his thought—as if they were in love. That sounded better. He winced inwardly as that thought had crept unintentionally into his mind again, and he lingered for a moment in his bedroom, looking at this woman he had already developed an appreciation of. He remembered then that he didn't even know her name. He sat up for a while with a glass of brandy, determined to learn at least that information tomorrow before he finally decided he thought about the what-ifs and whens long enough before heading to bed himself. He was tired. It had been a long day. And yet, he didn't feel tired to the soul as he had the past years. He disrobed before climbing in bed on the opposite side of his enchantress. He almost took his own bait to consider the possibility that she was indeed an enchantress, sent by Lucius or even by the Dark Lord himself, but stopped short of attributing her presence to sorcery. She was still in a fetal position, laying on her side, cradling her pillow under her head. She looked completely peaceful, and he was almost jealous of her for finding something he rarely could—peaceful sleep. He closed his eyes with a sigh and was only slightly aware of his surprise as a peaceful sleep claimed him as well.