Chapter 1
When you pray, what do you pray for?
I pray for god to crush me, break me up into little pieces, and start all over again.
Angels in America, Tony Kushner
The wind outside howled like a tormented beast, its furious gusts rattling the windows of Snape's secluded home. Lightning sliced through the sky, illuminating the darkened room with an eerie glow.
Snape glanced up from his cluttered desk, his gaze drawn to the tempest raging outside. The storm had been brewing for days, its intensity escalating with each passing moment. For a fleeting instant, he wondered about the weather conditions in America.
But his peace was quickly shattered by frantic pounding on the door, each strike reverberating over the storm.
"Snape!"A voice, tinged with desperation, pierced the air. "Please, Severus!"
With a resigned sigh, Snape rose from his chair and crossed the room to answer the urgent summons. Before he could fully grasp the situation, Regulus Black burst through the door, dragging an unconscious figure in his wake.
"Regulus wha-" Snape began, his words cut short by the urgency in the young man's eyes.
"There's no time, Severus, please," Regulus pleaded, his voice trembling with panic. "She ingested an unknown potion. Symptoms are fever, deliriousness, pain, and extreme thirst."
Without hesitation, Snape sprang into action, his mind already racing through the possibilities. He swiftly made his way to his potion storage, his hands moving with practiced efficiency as he selected vials of swirling liquids.
He glanced over his supply, listening to the crash of his glassware shattering as Regulus pushed everything off the table. He quickly grabbed three vials of swirling liquids before pausing and quickly snatching up a fourth.
Returning to the table where Regulus had laid the girl, Snape wasted no time in administering the potions. With a commanding tone, he instructed Regulus to assist, his voice cutting through the chaos like a beacon of authority.
Snape brushed the hair out of the young woman's face before placing two fingers on her neck. As soon as his fingers made contact, the girl's eyes shot open, and she started screaming. She began trashing her limbs, kicking Regulus in the stomach, causing him to fall back onto the floor. Snape grabbed her shoulders and held her against the table, noting that he could feel the girl's collarbones like a skeleton.
"Regulus, come hold her so I can administer the potions," Snape glanced up to see Regulus still on the ground, staring up at them as if he was petrified, "REGULUS!"
Regulus seemed to move almost robotically, pushing himself off the dark wood to take over Snape's grasp on her shoulders. Snape moved around to tilt her head back, his grasp firm on the back of her neck, lifting it slightly so the liquid could go smoothly.
Her gray eyes, which Snape thought matched the color of the sky outside perfectly, looked up at him, welling with tears.
"Please, no more," she pleaded up at him.
"It won't hurt." He said, gently talking to her as he would talk to a small child
He gently poured the first potion, a shimmering dark green liquid, down her throat.
"Swallow." He commanded
He continued the process with the next two vials, a deep purple and blood red; he watched as the tension between her eyebrows eased, smoothing the wrinkles until her skin looked like a porcelain doll. Her eyes, still boring into his, started to droop as the Draught of Dreamless Sleep started to take effect. He smoothed the hair sticking to her face from the tears and sweat she produced in her panic.
As soon as he was certain the girl was asleep, he gripped the back of Regulus's cloak, dragging him to the small parlor. He half tossed half threw the boy onto the couch before he hissed, "What have you done?" his voice low and dangerous.
Regulus stared back up at him, looking eerily like the small 14-year-old crying in the common room about his brother's disownment.
"Are you an impeccable bringing a muggle into my home? Do you know what He will do when He discovers this? Did you even THINK!" Severus hissed
Regulus met his gaze, his expression haunted by guilt and fear. "She's my sister," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.
Snape's disbelief was palpable. "You don't have a sister," he insisted, the words heavy with skepticism.
But as silence descended upon the room, Regulus's confession hung in the air like a dark omen.
"You have a sister," Snape sat down in the armchair across from Regulus. "And she's a squib."
Regulus's head raised to meet Snape's eyes. "You have to protect her."