Chapter 30
The library felt wrong now.
The runes on the floor had burned out, leaving nothing but scorched stone and the faint scent of something charred in the air. The shadows that ahd one writhed against the walls now lay still, retreating into the corners like wounded animals.
In the middle of it all, Severus still lay sprawled on the cold floor, his breathing falling shallow once more, his skin slowly returning to a deathly pale.
You had not let go of him since the moment he gasped back to life. His body now trembled against yours, every muscle weak from the sheer force of what had just happened.
He was alive, but barely.
You could feel the lingering effects of the Mark on him. Its magic had been burned away, severed from him at last, but it had left something behind–something broken and raw. His skin where the Mark had been was still bleeding, tendrils of burns traced up his arm and along his neck.
“Severus.” You murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
His eyelids fluttered. It took him too long to open them.
When he did, his gaze was unfocused, his exhaustion so deep it looked like it had settled into his bones.
“Can you stand?” You asked softly, your heart racing.
He gave you a look–one that might have been almost unimpressed if he wasn’t so obviously struggling to stay conscious.
You turned to Dumbledore, who stood just beyond the remnants of the runic circle, his expression unreadable. He had not spoken since the spell had been completed, and had not moved from his place in the shadows. But there was something tight in his face, something close to relief and regret tangled together.
“We need to get him to the medical wing,” You murmured.
Dumbledore nodded. “Agreed.” He raised his wand and, with a slow, deliberate movement, flicked it toward Severus.
Severus barely had time to protest before an invisible force lifted him from the floor. His body hovered weightlessly, as if caught in a gentle current, but you could still see the way his face tightened in pain, the way his fingers twitched as if grasping for control he no longer had.
Just hold on, You pushed to him through the bond, sighing with relief that it was still there, still holding you to him. We’ll get you help.
His reply was a wordless echo of vague warmth in your mind.
Your heart was pounding in your ears.
Dumbledore started toward the exit, Severus floating beside him. You stayed close, your hand hovering near Severus’ arm, though you knew there was nothing you could do to help him now.
Even as you ascended from the Forbidden Library’s depths, even as the oppressive darkness of the chamber gave way to the cool, open corridors of the castle, you couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness clinging to your skin.
Severus wasn’t out of danger just yet.
The castle was silent at this hour, but flickering torches along the hallways cast long, shifting shadows that made your skin crawl. Every step felt too loud in the empty corridors. Every breath felt stolen.
When you reached the Medical Wing, at last, you rushed forward to push the heavy doors open.
Madam Pomfrey was already awake, as though she’d been expecting you.
The moment the door creaked open, she turned, her sharp eyes immediately falling on Severus’ limp form. She took one look at his pale skin, the blackened veins snaking along his arm and neck, the oozing burn on his forearm, and gasped.
“Merlin’s beard–” She breathed. “What happened to him?”
“It is unimportant now,” Dumbledore said authoritatively. “Can you help him?”
Pomfrey didn’t waste time asking more questions. She grabbed her wand and hurried forward as Severus was carefully lowered onto one of the pristine white hospital beds.
Dumbledore slowly moved his wand, setting Severus’ body down on the bed. The moment he hit the mattress, he winced.
You moved toward him on instinct, but his hand twitched weakly–a silent signal for you not to worry. You ignore it, and reach for his hand anyway, squeezing tightly.
A soft laugh echoes down the bond, and you can't help it as tears of relief flood your eyes.
Pomfrey goes to work immediately, running diagnostic spells over his arm, his chest, and every inch of his body that had been marked by the curse. Her lips press into a thin, disapproving line as her wand pulses different colors.
“Well?” Dumbledore probed.
“He’s stable,” Madam Pomfrey said at last, “but the damage runs deep.” She turned to Severus, narrowing her eyes slightly. “You’re lucky to be alive.”
Severus let out a slow breath, his voice hardly more than a raspy whisper. “That is… debatable.”
You clenched his hand tighter. “Don’t.”
He turned his head slightly, his dark eyes finding yours with a coy grin on his lips. There was something too tired in his gaze, something that sent a fresh wave of fear curling around your ribs.
Pomfrey interrupted the moment with a sharp sigh. “He needs to rest. And take his medicines diligently.” She opened her medicine cabinet, pulled viles and bottles out and set them on the small table beside the bed. “Someone will need to watch him at all times, making sure he doesn’t get up or try to do anything foolish.” She shot a warning glare to Severus, who slowly and laboriously rolled his eyes. “I assume that'll be you?”
You nod your head, smiling at her with a small smile. “I’m not leaving.”
Madam Pomfrey’s eyes softened again as she smiled at you, patting Severus’ arm once before bustling away to write down the results of her assessment and figure out the dosages of the medications and potions she’d selected.
Dumbledore leaned closer to Severus’ head, murmuring lowly into his ear. Severus nodded once, thanking Dumbledore quietly as he left the room.
You exhaled as you sat in the chair beside the bed, pulling it as close to Severus as you could manage. Your shoulders sagged as the weight of everything that had happened caught up to you.
You’d done it.
Severus was here.
He would be alright.
But as you looked at him–at his exhausted face, at the lingering shadows under his eyes–you realized something else.
It wasn’t over.
Not really.
The weight of what had happened, of what he had sacrificed, would stay with him long after his body healed.
You resolved in that moment that you would not let him carry that weight alone.
You squeezed his hand, and when he looked at you, he smiled. He slowly let go of your hand just long enough to raise a shaking finger to your face, smoothing the worried creases between your eyes.
“Don’t worry, darling.” He rasped. “It’s all alright now.”
You smiled, taking his hand again and pressing your lips to each of his fingers.
“I’ll be here when you wake up.” You replied softly, just loud enough for him to hear it.
Madam Pomfrey returned with the measurements, and carefully measured each vile of medication out before administering it to Severus.
His fingers tightened around yours for a moment before they relaxed, his face finally softening into a peaceful expression as he fell asleep.