Picnic
A few mornings after that, Dahlia managed to convince Severus to finally go outside.
“I just don’t see the point,” he said grumpily. “I have enough Vitamin D-”
“Severus Snape,” Dahlia cried, exasperated, “you’re paler than the Bloody Baron, grumpier than Argus, and more sick than those wretched creatures Hagrid likes to heal. It isn’t really about the vitamins, it’s about breathing fresh air and being under the sun. Look at you!”
She held up his right hand- which, to both of their relief, was not as purple as it used to be. The swelling and purple had died down a lot, but it was still cluttered with dark tendrils of the remains of dark curses and Nagini’s venom.
His hand was pale- his whole body was unhealthily pale. And his hands were trembling. Nowadays, Severus couldn’t even pick up a cup of water without spilling some.
“You are paler than the Bloody Baron!”
Severus scowled at her.
“I have a fever,” he said, quite proudly. “I’m in no shape to stay outside in the sun.”
Dahlia glowered at him.
“You weren’t complaining about the fever when you forced poor Horace to leave the Infirmary,” she sniped.
Severus flushed an ugly red and wrapped Molly’s blanket around him tighter. He never went anywhere without the blanket- the weight and warmth let him feel grounded. In Azkaban, he’d suffered the long winters without anything to cover him and the cold had dug into his bones, causing him extreme agony. So, the blanket was mental, emotional, and physical support.
“Alright, I’ll do it. But only for lunch, and it better not be a five hour lunch.”
“Okay!”
Dahlia opened the fridge and shoved sandwiches inside.
“Ooooh, what do you want, Severus?”
He shrugged.
“I don’t even eat,” he muttered.
“Exactly. That’s why we’re going outside.” She hummed a random tune and opened the fridge again. “I made spaghetti the other day, when you were sleeping- here, you should try it.”
She opened the lid to the container for him to sniff, and, admittedly, Severus felt like it seemed pretty good.
“Mmm, garlic powder, parsley…” Severus nodded.
“Okay, then! Plan to eat more than you usually do, Severus!”
He couldn’t remember the last time she was this energetic. He grumpily admitted that the cheerfulness was infectious… and he nearly- nearly- smiled, too.
Dahlia stuffed the food inside the magically enlarged basket and beamed at him.
Minutes later, they were struggling to wheel the chair down the stairs. Severus was exhausted, annoyed, and impatient, so he snatched Dahlia’s wand away, gave it a wave, and the chair levitated above the stairs, through doors, and down to the lake.
Dahlia let out a startled little “oh!” and followed him.
She soon took back her wand, laid out the picnic blanket and set down the plates. Severus lowered himself painfully out of the chair and onto the ground, his legs splayed inelegantly out in front of him.
Dahlia poured orange juice into two of the cups and set out the sandwiches. She scooped out some of the spaghetti and placed it on Severus’s plate and handed him a fork.
“Try it?” She looked so hopeful.
Severus sighed, placed down the book he was reading, and gingerly took a bite.
It was an explosion of wonderful tastes. Severus loved the sauce and the noodles. He didn’t think he’d ever liked food this much. Eileen cooked some food when she felt like it, yes, but it was usually a soup full of random food or a loaf of bread.
And Severus used to go to the Evans' house sometimes. Lily’s parents took pity on him, and sometimes fed him wonderful meals that made him feel warm and happy inside.
But that was a long time ago. Sure, Hogwarts’ food was fine, but it just never had that…special taste in it. And after Severus’s friendship with Lily ended, Severus started to eat less, and less, and less.
Severus shoved another mouthful in. Dahlia beamed.
“You like it?”
Severus nodded, and then swallowed, once, twice, three times just to get it down. The scarred mess on his throat stretched. Wincing slightly, Severus downed half a cup of his orange juice.
“Very,” he promised, his voice slightly raspier than before. “I think it’s the best thing I’ve had- ever.”
“Oh, Severus,” she laughed softly. “Thank you, really.”
He nodded and, ten minutes later, managed to finish most of his plate- the most he’d eaten since he got here, and probably the most he’d eaten in those three years.
“Oooh, Severus, you really do like it!” Dahlia gave him a dazzling smile. And Severus even returned it, somewhat sheepish and shy, but it was a smile nonetheless.
Severus leaned back and gazed up at the sky.
“I brought a book,” Dahlia said mischievously. She handed over a thick book. Severus flipped through the old, crinkled pages, smelling the dusty, unused scent that forgotten books sometimes carry. “Minerva was cleaning the office a few years ago and she said I could take some stuff if I wanted, just to borrow. And, er, I ‘accidentally’ forgot to bring it back. I mean, it’s quite a fascinating read!”
Dahlia took a small bite out of her sandwich.
“I can imagine why- Hidden History of the Ages.”
“It is quite literally hidden history.”
Severus wrapped himself tighter in his blanket, looking like a burrito, and laid back, beginning to read. Dahlia laughed at the way he so gently caressed the book, as if it were a baby.
“You know, Severus, I should take you swimming one day. It does help with building up your muscles.”
Severus raised an elegant eyebrow and looked up from the book.
“I did not survive getting mauled by a giant snake just to get mauled by a giant squid,” he scowled.
“The squid won’t do anything,” Dahlia dismissed the idea. “It never hurts the students, hm?”
Severus scoffed.
“But really,” Dahlia insisted. “You want to get stronger, don’t you?”
He nodded.
“So you’ve gotta start exercising.” Dahlia softly poked his thin legs. “Oh, but you are getting stronger,” she added enthusiastically as Severus’s face fell. “Remember yesterday, when you had your bath? The spasms have died down. You haven’t had one of your thrashing-flailing episodes since…”
“Friday.”
“Yeah, Friday! It’s been a good six days. You’re healing, Severus-”
“And yet I cannot see someone I don’t know without flinching, cannot stop shuddering when the Dark Lord and his wretched snake are mentioned, and cannot even pick up a bloody cup of tea!”
Severus snarled in frustration, his eyes sparkling with anger.
“I haven’t got the energy, will, or health to even stand. I’m not worth anything now! I do not understand why-”
He broke off coughing, his lungs heaving for breath. Severus weakly pushed himself up into a sitting position, his hands scrambling to his mouth, trying to cover his cough.
Dahlia jumped up and thrusted a handkerchief into his hands.
Moments later, the fit stopped, leaving Severus weak and in pain, the scar on his throat stretched again. Severus dabbed at his neck. The cloth turned red within a few seconds.
“Here,” Dahlia said, handing him a cup of water and helping him tip the cup over so he could drink. “It’s bleeding again- that isn’t supposed to happen.”
With a sigh, she sat back down.
“Severus, you are worth something. Don’t ever think that you aren’t. Healing takes time. Change is not instant, it takes multiple steps and layers to achieve it. You’ve already come this far, Severus. You survived a gigantic snake and the darkest wizard of all time.”
“And Azkaban,” Severus rasped quietly.
“And Azkaban,” Dahlia agreed. “Severus…whatever might have happened there, you don’t have to tell me. I know that sometimes, talking about that stuff can be horribly hard. But-”
“I tried showing Kingsley, remember?” Severus interrupted softly, his voice a mere whisper. “I don’t…I don’t want pity. But I know the truth is going to have to come out anyway.”
He shifted uncomfortably, shuddering and drawing up his blanket tighter to his chest. He seemed so lonely, so small, so scared, that Dahlia edged closer and offered him her shoulder, which he gratefully leaned on, drawing in the comfort of another human.
“We were all in the same cell,” he whispered.
Dahlia looked down into his dark eyes, the working one obscured with fear and pain. Severus wasn’t really there anymore, not mentally. He was back in that cell in Azkaban in his mind, trying to ignore the shadows and creepy images that he kept on remembering. Wall after wall of Occlumency went up, and Severus began to feel lost, and disconnected again.
“It was Alecto, Amycus, Bellatrix, Antonin, Walden, Augustus, and me.”
Severus shuddered, trying to block out their leering faces.
“It was okay in the beginning. I was sick, really sick, but at least they didn’t hurt me. The only thing they did was argue. But after two weeks, when the news of the Battle caught up, they turned their attention to me. They knew the Dark Lord was dead, and that I was a spy, but they never really thought about it- until Kingsley was named Minister, I was pardoned, and given Order of Merlin, First Class. Then they started to taunt me.”
Severus’s eyelashes fluttered as he shut his eyes, squeezing his knees to his chest. Dahlia cautiously wrapped an arm around him, and when he didn’t object, swept him into a full hug.
“They kicked me. Mocked me. Twisted and broke my already broken body. I was dying, I knew. Most of the venom was gone, because of the bezoar, but Nagini wasn’t a normal snake. The remaining venom started to increase, and attack my body.”
A stray tear dripped down his cheek.
“Two months after the Battle, they started bringing in torturers. We had to ‘suffer as the population suffered’, the guards told us. This was instructed by Eugene Macmillan, the person who runs Azkaban. And it was only directed towards the Death Eaters. People from all over the country would come and go into a separate cell with us and torture us. Over and over. It was bad. Really bad. We had to memorize something to say- you heard mine. We had to list our name, birthday, and the crimes we committed, and then say that we were ready for whatever torture. I met 575 in those three years.”
He blinked open his eyes and pointed at his left forearm.
“Number 558 did that. Number 559,” he said, pointing at his right forearm. “And 561.” Severus squeezed the cloth over the word MONSTER.
“Number 163 impersonated Molly Weasley through Polyjuice and fed me some fudge. That ‘fudge’ was filled with poison. I writhed on the ground for twenty minutes after that with an audience.
“Number 373 fed me false news from the outside world. She arrived with the Daily Prophet and read to me, claiming that the Dark Lord had come back alive through another Horcrux and that Harry Potter was dead. She claimed that everyone forgot about me. That I was nobody.”
He was fully crying now, tears flowing quickly.
“We had food. But Bellatrix and the others split it up for themselves and ate it without me. I was too weak to argue. During winter, they stole my blanket. I shivered on the ground and I couldn’t sleep. Cold air does horrible things and only increases my pain. Bellatrix was terrible. She laughed at my crying during nightmares, or those fits. She sneered at my agony, ignored my pleas for help, for kindness, for warmth, or food.”
Severus pitifully wiped his tears and shivered against Dahlia’s hug.
“They never got tortured as much as I did,” he recalled, his voice with a hint of confusion. “And when they were called away, they didn’t look fazed when they came back.”
She found that awfully suspicious. She’d have to tell Kingsley later.
“I don’t know. I’ve got too many memories inside my head, memories of pain and agony, of what I did. I’m a monster. I killed and destroyed families. Sometimes, I can’t find myself. I get lost in my head. I think Azkaban really messed with my mind.”
Severus trailed off.
“You can tell the others, if you’d like. I don’t mind.”
“Thank you for telling me,” Dahlia said gently.
Reaching to him, she started rubbing his frail back, tracing circles and trying to soothe him.
With a slightly unfocused gaze, Severus buried his head into her shoulder.
“I’ve never had someone comfort me before,” he murmured in a strangled voice.
Dahlia bit back a sob.
“Well, I’ll comfort you as much as you’d like.”
They stayed there for a while, with Severus crying into her shoulder and Dahlia whispering words to him, under a tree. The food was forgotten, but neither of them cared about the picnic. Severus didn’t even care if he was seen.
This was the first time he was hugged like this, and the first time that he’d accepted it.
Severus was glad, though. Glad for the fact that he wasn’t alone in the world, that he had someone that he could cry to, that he wasn’t by himself, trapped in his mind, and surrounded by the sinister shadows of his own thoughts.