Familiar Yet Not
Unusually, it was darkness that awoke Severus instead of light. A shadow fell over his curled up form as he struggled to muster up the strength to open his eyes. His entire body felt stiff as a corpse, and as he shifted, it felt unnatural and foreign. Like it wasn’t even his. Was this what death felt like?
It took effort to force his eyes open, feeling as though he had just woken up from a nap that had lasted years. He was disoriented, and his senses all seemed to be turned to the max in the contrast from the nothingness he was dragged into just moments before, bleeding out on the floor of the shrieking shack. Looking up at the person above him, he suppressed a groan as he closed his eyes again, turning on his side. It seemed even in death, Harry Potter and his pitiful eyes followed him.
Instead of addressing the boy, Severus instead took a few deep breaths to collect himself. Though he still felt off, he wasn’t in any kind of pain. Not in his back that constantly ached from being bent over a cauldron all hours of the day, or in his leg that had never been the same after Hagrid’s rabid pet project nearly took it off. As strands of grass gently tickled his cheek and dragged along his throat, he absentmindedly noted how the pain in his neck had also vanished.
...His neck?
In a snap, Severus shot up like a rocket and grasped at his throat desperately, suddenly gagging on the air he was previously soaking up as memories flooded through his mind all at once. The figure above him startled back, not expecting such a sudden reaction, but Severus paid no heed to them, his every thought occupied with the need to survive. He needed to stop the blood flow, staunch the wound somehow, and god, where even was it? Fingers gripped along his neck tightly, threatening to bruise, but he couldn’t find the godforsaken wound. Panic rose in his chest as he searched for the torn flesh. He needed to, or else he was going to bleed out, he was gonna die-
A small hand wrapped around his wrist and tugged, and he yelped loudly, causing the hand to snap back. Between gasps, he stared into wide, frightened green eyes as they flitted around his face, seeming unsure of what to do. Severus could feel himself choking, whether from the hand or the wound he still needed to find. He could feel it still, the blood was still seeping through his fingers and dripping into the puddle on the floorboards. Potter was still crouching before him, watching him as he died with doe eyes full of fear. But then those eyes hardened with another emotion, and Potter turned suddenly to shout for someone behind him, yelling words that were incomprehensible to him.
Severus could hear three voices talking as two hazy, larger figures joined Potter, crouching down next to him. One figure turned towards him, a deep voice murmuring in a lilting, questioning way, but Severus couldn’t hear. Their voices were like white noise hidden behind the rush of blood pounding against his ears. Similarly to the small one, a large hand curled around his wrist, but this hand did not let go when he tried rejecting it. Instead, with what sounded like multiple murmured apologies, it tugged against him, forcing him to let go of his throat.
His attempts at squirming away turned into flailing, but still his wrist was not released and a new kind of panic arose inside of him, as his chest seemed to tighten. He coughed a little and stared wide eyed at the new face in front of him, red hair framing a round face and thin, gold glasses. He furrowed his eyebrows as his attention was drawn to the man's lips, opening and closing in an odd, but methodic pattern. Unconsciously, he started mimicking his motions and the dizziness buzzing around his vision faded slightly after a minute as air began to seep back into his lungs.
The red haired man seemed pleased by this, grinning widely and giving a thumbs up with the hand not restraining his own, whose grip had considerably loosened. He began the motions again, puffing his chest up as he inhaled deeply and slumping over dramatically as he released the breath with a smile.
Puffing up his cheeks, Severus felt a twinge of irritation at the man treating him like a toddler. The exaggerated motions reminded him of a kindergarten teacher showing five year olds how to do basic tasks they don’t have the mental capacity to figure out on their own, and it pissed him off. Over the next few minutes, his breaths started to return to normal as he stared daggers at the still smiling man, who only seemed to find his anger amusing. Severus hadn’t even registered his wet cheeks or the woman beside him rubbing her hand up and down in a soothing manner until she reached up to wipe some of the tears still dribbling slowly down his face away, causing him to flinch back in surprise.
The woman drew back and let her hand fall down with a soft, sympathetic smile. She looked familiar, Severus thought, as did the man making the silly faces in front of him, their names nudging at the back of his mind as he examined the brunette. He took in the strands of curly hair falling loose from what was an otherwise composed updo, the laugh lines around her eyes and mouth, the pressed floral dress that had a dirt stain soiling the butter-yellow trim from where she crouched. The lady's eyes followed his as she did her own evaluation of him, which Severus had no interest in the results of. He already felt like a hot mess, he didn’t need her to verbally confirm it as well, thank you.
At a small cough, Severus slowly turned back to the red haired man, who sheepishly looked down at his hand still gently wrapped around Severus’ wrist. Quickly, he snatched his hand back and narrowed his eyes, remembering how humiliatingly afraid he had been when he found he couldn’t move against the other man's grip. He felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment at how easy it had been for the other man to maneuver his arm. Even if he didn’t exactly get his daily dose of exercise, he wasn’t expecting another scrawny looking man to be able to break his grip that easily. Hell, even the way the man was treating him made him feel like a child.
With a sigh and Severus quietly tracking his every move, the man removed his glasses and wiped the lenses with his blue polo, seemingly just to keep his hands busy. “Sorry about the whole grabbing you thing,” He seemed genuine, shifting his eyes to glance into Severus’ own. “I could tell you were scared when I did that. It’s just, well-” He didn’t seem to know how to bring it up, instead just gesturing vaguely to his own throat, before chuckling.
“I’ll give you one thing though, you gotta heck of a grip, kiddo. Thought you were gonna take my head clean off when you started swinging at me.” Again with the kiddy talk. Who did this man think he was, talking to him like that? He looked like he could attend one of his seventh year classes and Severus would be none the wiser.
“What are you even doing out here? It’s a little far for someone your age to be out here all by yourself. Is there anyone with you? Your mom, dad maybe?” Alright, now this was just getting ridiculous. Didn’t this man have anything better to do with his time than to mock him?
Well, Severus supposed it didn’t matter. He sure as hell didn’t owe these people any explanation, no matter how familiar they looked, and he didn’t plan on staying here any longer than necessary. If whatever higher power up there decided he didn’t have to die with only a Potter for company and gave him life again, he wasn’t going to question it. It or his miraculously healed throat. Nope, not going to think about that. Not at all.
Severus decided he could contemplate his continued existence another time and preferably in a different general area from these strangers, whom he still felt uncomfortable around even after 38 years of practice interacting with them like a normal human being. He supposed his social awkwardness wasn’t completely his fault more than it was genetic, thinking back on his parents. But that was a story for another time.
Struggling to his feet, he soon found that attempting to stand was a huge mistake as his legs immediately locked and forced him back to the ground, a small commotion taking place as the odd woman's hand rushed to steady him on the way down. He hadn’t realized how badly he was trembling, and how exhaustion had snuck up on him and had begun seeping its way into his bones.
The brunette shook her head slightly as she looked at him. “Take it easy, sweetheart. You shouldn’t really be moving much after an episode like that, your body’s likely still trying to process it. Panic attacks can be pretty draining, especially for children.” Merlin. “Trust me, I would know. I definitely experienced a few when my youngest was little.” She shared a knowing glance with the man, who Severus assumed was her husband, like an inside joke that only they would understand.
Now the silence was just a bit awkward. Severus didn’t even want to contemplate what the lady meant when she called him a child, when she looked no older than 30, and even that was stretching it a bit. Instead, he decided to take the time to observe his surrounding which, similarly to the couple, seemed strangely familiar. It made him wonder whether or not this really was a dream and he was just incredibly lucid.
For starters, he most definitely was not in the shrieking shack anymore. Shocking, I know. But give him a break, he had been a little preoccupied for the past few minutes to really process where he was. No, he was in a field. Rolling hills blanketed in green- edging on yellow -grass, with small groups of trees breaking the otherwise untarnished landscape. Though the wildflowers dotting the field were beautiful, the thought of him being in the middle of nowhere with complete strangers was not exactly comforting. However, as he turned his head, he noticed a dirt road not too far away with a nondescript blue car parked on it’s edge. If he really squinted, he could make out buildings and smoke signifying a town in the distance near the end of the road.
He leaned back in confusion as the woman, who he now realized had been rummaging through what looked like a picnic basket, held a juice box in front of his face, her eyes looking at him expectantly. Severus raised an eyebrow and looked back at her blankly. What, did she expect him to just take it? Did she think he was an idiot? She must if she honestly expected him to take anything a random person handed him, especially during wartime. Even if she was a muggle and didn’t know about the war, she must have enough sense to know that he wasn’t that dim.
Except now she was looking at him oddly, mimicking his raised eyebrow with a confused but slightly amused smirk. Well that just made her look ten times more suspicious. He shifted back when she leaned towards him, but she simply dropped the box in his lap before retreating back. If she thought that would make him drink it, maybe she was the idiot in this situation.
Or, she would be if Mr. Baby Face wasn’t also here. “You need to get your energy back up. Both you and I know you probably feel real gross right now, so sugar might just help.” That’s some shitty logic you got there, manchild. Severus’ distrust must have shown pretty clearly on his face, because the man sighed and leaned down to catch his eye. Everything in him screamed to look away out of discomfort, but something about him made Severus stare back, uncertain but stubborn.
“Hey. We’re not going to hurt you. I swear on my life, cross my heart,” He even made the slashes across his chest, attempting to smile reassuringly at him but still coming across as strained. It didn’t seem like he had alot of experience talking about serious topics. “I promise you that you have nothing to worry about. Me and my wife and daughter were just out on a picnic when we spotted you, so it’s not like we weren’t planning on drinking it anyways. Our other daughter didn’t want to go. Said she’s too busy with her own stuff for a family outing, heh, a real studious type, that one. We already packed extra, so it would just go to waste. I’m not just saying that, either I would actually really appreciate it if you drank it for us. Petunia’s not really much of a juice kid after all…”
As if she could sense Severus’ rising confusion from the out of the blue infodump her husband decided to bless him with, the lady abruptly cut off his nervously blathering by holding a hand out. “Here, I’ll tell you what. Will you drink the juice if I drink a little bit first? Just to show you it’s safe.” Maybe she wasn’t that clueless then, if she picked up on the reason he refused to drink it. Might as well, even if it was a bit unsanitary. Cautiously, he held out the juice box and plopped it into her outstretched hands.
Oh, well. That’s kind of gross. He didn’t even know that he wanted to drink the juice now that someone else had drunk from the straw, but continued refusal may make the abnormally tall couple agitated, which wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. Besides, now that he was more aware of himself and his surroundings, his throat was basically begging him to take any drink that he could get. It felt like he hadn’t eaten or drinken anything in days, and as he found out, the juice did actually help a bit in making him feel a little less crappy.
Unconsciously, he relaxed his shoulders and just focused on drinking, making the uncertainty of his situation a little easier to deal with. If it turns out that it was actually tampered with, poisoned apple juice was a problem for the future him to deal with.
The two adults seemed glad he had finally drunk, and were unfortunately now comfortable enough to ask him questions. “Why are you out here anyways, kid? Or, better yet, how long have you been out here? You were asleep when we found you. And what was-” They seemed to cut themselves off when coming close to asking questions about his… episode. He was glad, he didn’t feel like talking about that right now, or even thinking about it in any way. He wouldn’t know how to explain it, anyways. He’s never exactly had anyone walk in on one. “Just... are you alright? I know it’s not our place, but you were just out here passed out way outside town. We want to help, if that’s alright.”
No, he wanted to say, it’s not alright. I don’t know you. You don’t know me. Even if you are familiar, I don’t trust you at all. Pressing his lips together in a thin line, Severus stared holes into the dirt and squeezed the juice box, juice beginning to dribble out the end of the straw. Shakily, he took an uneasy breathe.
“Severus.”
His voice was soft, nearly lost to the wind if you hadn’t been listening for it closely, as the two clearly had. The couple blinked, obviously not having really expected a verbal reply from how quiet he had been the entire time. The husband was surprisingly the first to react, smiling softly.
“Severus? Is that your name?” He nodded curtly, daring a glance up. “That’s a nice name. Very unique, it fits you.” What’s that supposed to mean? “Sorry, we’ve been so focused on making sure you were okay we sort of forgot to introduce ourselves. Hope you can forgive us.” He didn’t really care, to be honest. But the man simply grinned wider, uncaring of Severus’ disinterest.
“I’m William Evans, and this here is my lovely wife Eliana. I work at the publishing company downtown, you might’ve heard of it. Or, well I actually don’t know if you're from here, you might not know about it…” He seemed to store that question away for later, before reaching behind him and pulling out a stumbling girl from behind him, surprised at being put in the spotlight. “And this here’s my daughter, Lily-”
Severus didn’t catch anything the man said after that, as his entire attention had been directed towards the girl before him. To be completely truthful, he had forgotten there was another person there while the couple was talking to him, but now that his head was clear all he could do was gape at the girl.
He had mistaken her eyes for Harry’s, as alike as they were, but as he looked at his best friend, he couldn’t imagine how he hadn’t recognized her before. She was maybe only 9 or 10 years old, but he thought would be able to recognize the girl he loved like a sister no matter what she looked like. It wasn’t even the characteristic red hair that made her identifiable, but just her energy itself.
As much as he hated the dumb nickname James gave her, he hadn’t exactly been wrong when he compared Lily to a firecracker. From her emotions to her magic, Lily had never been the type to half-ass anything. It was all or nothing for her, and there was often no inbetween for her. But alongside her strong presence, there had always been a softness accompanying it.
From the way she pursed her lips in worry whenever he showed up to class with a new bruise to add to his record, the way she held him through the nights and put up his tears and incomprehensible sobbing in the weeks following his father’s death, smoothing his hair from his forehead and shushing him when he cried. The way she looked at him now, furrowed eyebrows and puckered lips. Her eyes holding no recognition but filled with concern and caring all the same.
He distantly heard a voice ask if he was feeling alright, but he had no time to answer before falling headfirst back into the darkness.