Chapter 5
"...and I can't ever talk about it...I can't, and I won't. I can only cry or scream it."
Sue Zhao
Two months had passed since Arabella arrived at Spinners End. In that time, she and Severus had settled into a quiet routine—a delicate dance of avoidance and mutual understanding. Arabella took on the task of cleaning the house when Severus was away, ensuring that everything remained orderly and neat. In return, Severus made sure to keep the pantry stocked with food, though his efforts often fell short, resulting in bare shelves and meager meals.
Their interactions were brief and fleeting, mere glimpses of each other's presence as they passed like ships in the night. Whenever they did cross paths, Arabella would instinctively press herself against the wall, avoiding Severus's gaze as if afraid to intrude upon his space. She could sense his discomfort with her presence, his disdain evident in the way he would scoff or roll his eyes whenever she entered the room.
Arabella couldn't blame him for his reaction. She knew that having a Squib living in his house was far from ideal, a constant reminder of the secrecy and danger that surrounded them. But despite the tension that hung in the air between them, Arabella couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Severus. He may not have welcomed her with open arms, but he hadn't turned her away either, allowing her to take shelter under his roof when she had nowhere else to go.
And so, they continued their silent dance, each step carefully calculated to avoid stepping on the other's toes.
Since her arrival, Arabella's sleep has been fitful, plagued by restless dreams and fragmented memories that danced at the edge of her consciousness. She tossed and turned, caught in a whirlwind of emotions as she grappled with the events that had led her here—the sudden appearance of Regulus, the stormy night at Snape's doorstep, and the unsettling revelation of her brother's likely fate.
As dawn broke one morning, Arabella awoke with a start, her heart pounding in her chest. She sat up in bed, her mind still foggy from sleep as she tried to shake off the remnants of her dreams. Glancing around the room, she felt a sense of disorientation wash over her—a feeling of being adrift in a sea of uncertainty.
She stumbled slightly on her way to the door, her legs not quite awake yet. She could hear murmuring but accosted it to her lingering sleep before grasping the door knob. But as her hand closed around the doorknob, a sudden jolt of pain shot through her arm, causing her to recoil in shock. The sensation was like a bolt of electricity coursing through her veins, sending her mind reeling with fear and confusion.
Gasping for breath, Arabella stumbled backward, her heart pounding in her chest as she felt the walls closing in around her. Memories of her mother's cold gaze flooded her mind, each icy glare searing into her soul with relentless cruelty.
With a pitiful cry, Arabella collapsed in the far corner of the room, her body trembling as she buried her head between her knees. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she struggled to catch her breath, the weight of her past bearing down on her like a crushing weight. In that moment of vulnerability, Arabella felt utterly alone, trapped in the suffocating grip of her own memories.
She didn't know how long she had been sitting there shaking like a leaf before Severus opened the door.
Severus's voice cut through the haze of Arabella's panic, pulling her back from the depths of her torment. She looked up, her eyes filled with tears as she tried to make sense of his presence. His expression was a mix of concern and confusion, his eyes scanning the room before finally settling on her trembling form in the corner.
"Arabella?" he repeated, his voice soft yet urgent as he hurried to her side. He knelt down beside her, his hand hovering uncertainly over her shoulder. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"
Arabella shook her head, unable to find the words to articulate the storm of emotions raging inside her. She wanted to tell him about the pain, the memories that haunted her every waking moment, but the words caught in her throat, choked off by the weight of her anguish.
Severus's brow furrowed with concern as he gently reached out to touch her trembling hand. "Arabella, please," he implored, his voice filled with genuine worry.
As if drawn by an unseen force, Arabella found herself wrapping her arms tightly around Severus's neck, seeking solace in the safety of his embrace. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, the warmth of his skin a comforting anchor in the storm raging within her.
Severus stiffened momentarily in surprise, caught off guard by the suddenness of her gesture. But then, slowly, almost hesitantly, his arms came around her, enfolding her in a protective embrace. He held her close, his touch gentle yet reassuring as he murmured soft words of comfort.
For a long while, they remained like that, two souls bound together in a moment of shared vulnerability. Arabella could feel the tension draining from her body, replaced by a sense of calm and acceptance. In Severus's arms, she felt safe, cocooned from the chaos of the outside world.
"Please don't lock the door," she mumbled against his skin, "I promise I won't leave. I'll wait until you get me every morning just don't lock my door." her voice tightening with panic as her voice carried on
Severus felt a pang of empathy as Arabella's words reached his ears, her voice tinged with a raw desperation that struck a chord within him. He tightened his embrace, offering her what little comfort he could in that moment.
"I won't lock the door," he assured her softly, his voice steady despite the turmoil churning in his own mind. "You have my word."
Arabella's grip on him tightened, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she struggled to regain control over her emotions. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible against his skin.
Severus allowed them to remain like that for a few moments before slowly peeling her arms from around his neck.
"This isn't Grimmauld Place," he began carefully, "You're allowed to walk around; you don't have to hide against the wall. You know you can't leave for the time being, but you're allowed freedom within this house."
For so long, she had been conditioned to shrink away, to remain invisible, to stay within the confines of her own fear. The notion of freedom within the safety of Spinners End seemed almost foreign to her—a concept too fragile to grasp, too precious to believe in.
She almost didn't know what to do with it.