Teapaper

              The day had gone to hell the moment he’d touched her soft cheeks. Holding her face in his hands as her unseeing eyes stared up at him trustingly had had him reconsidering what he was about to do. The constant push and pull of the world keeping everything in balance had never been more apparent as he prepared to touch her properly. This woman was far from the annoying teenager he remembered from years ago. No, if any of that child was left it was buried somewhere deep.

               “I don’t think it’s working.” She stated.

               Severus knew he should be thinking clinically of the pain he was about to cause, should be thinking of everything she was feeling right now- everything that he was feeling. The mirroring potion was doing exactly what he’d designed it to do. Last night had been hell, he felt every toss and turn she made in her too-soft sheets, every time her hands had ghosted over herself soothingly. He’d laid awake in the dark experiencing a torture he didn’t think Riddle could have ever dreamt up. Now, as he stared at her he wasn’t thinking about any of that.

               Instead, his mind was elsewhere, it was in a long since demolished boat launch stuck on the lone moment of desperation that had clutched the two of them together in a stranglehold. Potter and Weasley had long since run off- writing him off as dead like she should’ve. She’d begged him to open his mouth as she held the bezoar and the healing potions in her bruised and dirty hands. He’d refused her, determined to see the other side of the veil at last, determined to find his freedom in death. Sealing his lips past the pain even as her tears threatened to move him. When was the last time anyone had begged him for something for his own good?

               Desperation had grabbed her creativity then and she’d pressed her lips to his own, tongue forcing itself inside his blood-filled mouth. He’d choked in surprise and that was all it took for her to force the bezoar down his throat, shoving her fingers in between his teeth as she poured potion after potion in his mouth and forcing him to swallow. He wasn’t ashamed to say he bit her then. Saving him had been an extra risk she needed not take. Extra time she didn’t have.

               Bringing himself back to the present he focused on the strange but familiar face in front of him and let himself feel. Strange gratefulness mixed with bitterness, indebtedness, curiosity. But that wasn’t enough, she’d said kindness. He was sure whatever Weasley and Potter touched her with it was some sort of love. Affection. He didn’t feel any of that for her but touching her with some of the same feeling he’d felt for Lily at one point was easy enough if a little odd to do. Unrelenting devotion. Protectiveness.

               The effect was instant and he watched her face crumple and turn red as tears instantly began to roll down her cheeks and over his thumbs.

               “Please please please no,” Her begging was drowned out as the reflection part of the potion once again kicked in and he was greeted with such an acute pain that it nearly brought him to his knees.

               This is what she’d been living with? The Dark Lord could have only prayed for torture this beautifully precise.

               She began to fall and Severus tore his hands away from her face to push her in to the chair he’d had the forethought to set her in front of. He hadn’t realized she was holding on to him until she nearly pulled him down with her.

               Gathering himself he asked if that was the normal amount of pain to experience.

               “No, that was worse what did you do?” She’d answered, clutching his chair like a lifeline.

               Well fuck. Today would certainly be long. He didn’t know what was different and he certainly wasn’t going to sit here and parse through emotions to figure out which one hurt the worst.

               “I’m going to hit you now.” He intoned, she looked up questioningly but he didn’t give her a chance, raising his hand and striking her even as his insides recoiled. His stomach nearly revolted as he watched her head snap to the side.

               The red bloomed on her cheek as the sting of his own hand bloomed across his own. He couldn’t get her the bruise paste fast enough while he fought himself to keep from gagging.

               Taking her out to Hogsmeade had been a whim, they could have easily stayed in Cokeworth but something tugged him to the wizarding world they’d both been stung by. He’d gifted her the staff he’d used in his own recovery and watched as she leaned on it more and more till at the very end of the day he was sure it was the only thing keeping her upright. The hand that burned a hole in her back ached to pull her closer and help her move if only it wouldn’t make things worse.

               “Leave me here, I need a minute.” She’d sat heavily on her bottom step, looking uncomfortably small in the ridiculously large sweater dress she wore and even more worn out. It irritated him. He needed the stubborn jut of her chin to return.

               He could no more stand to watch her sit there than he could turn to leave even as the walls in his mind rose once again, closing him in to comforting security. It would bother him all night, the mental picture of her sitting on her steps for hours until she could gather the strength to pull herself up the stairs. Without thought he scooped her up and ran her up the steps, taking two at a time and dropped her off on her doorstep.

               When her feet were once again on the ground it was like a bucket of ice water was splashed on his body.

               “Until next Monday, Miss Granger.” He turned and fled.

               Once he was tucked safely away once more in Spinners End Severus promptly ran to the loo and threw up the entire pot of tea, leaning his forehead against his arms as he assumed the position of a man praying for relief- though forgiveness was more apt. Eventually he reached over and turned on the taps for the bath, blindly shoving the plug in the drain so the tub would fill. He undressed sitting down but stood to brush his teeth in a feat of defiance. Severus studied himself in the fogging mirror, turning his head as if he would be able to see the handprint that still burned on his skin.

               Pale skin glowed back at him tauntingly and he glared back at the angry black eyes that stared daggers at him. While his face had always been more Prince, his eyes had always been immutably Snape. Today he hated them perhaps a bit more but he’d like to think he’d grown away from punching mirrors. Flipping the mirror open to stare at the potions hidden behind he fingered a few before resting on a bright red pain potion. Even now, an hour after he’d left Grangers his body still buzzed with pain. He almost lifted the potion to his lips before the clench in his gullet had him placing it back and closing the mirror.

               Without further inspection of himself, he lowered himself in to the steaming bath until only his face remained above water, welcoming the stinging as the too-hot water enveloped his skin. As old scars flared to life under the ministrations of the water he allowed his mind to clear and focused only on the pain until it all faded away and he was left in the grey clouds of nothingness that only the perfect balance of pain could provide.