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Chapter Text

No... please...

The castle was quiet, sleepy. The hallways and grounds were completely empty, echoing my loneliness. My winter cloak, pulled closely around my body, hardly kept the cold at bay. Snow was falling down like it had done all day. I watched the little flakes dancing through the air as the wind swept them around through the obsidian sky.

I can't do this.

It must be past midnight by now, I guessed. Though I wasn’t sure how long I had been here. I couldn't bear staying in the dorms, I had to clear my head, my mind, control the panic taking over my senses. I had to leave. I had pulled on my cloak over my pajamas  and I left the dorms. I kept on going, first out of the dungeons, upstairs, not having a destination or any plan at all. My feet kept on going, my mind not paying attention to my surroundings. When the blur had faded, I found myself sitting on the marble floor with my back resting against the stone archway. Looking out over the courtyard, watching the snow silently drift down.

Useless. Selfish. Pathetic.

I pulled a pack of cigarettes out of my pocket and lit one with my wand. The courtyard was dark, except for a few torches in the hallway, illuminating the snow. Their flickering flames highlighting the white crystals, showering them in an orange glow as if they were embers. Fire and ice. Stubbing my cigarette, I felt tears falling down my cheeks, the cold air nearly freezing them on my skin. Burning cold. Pulling my cloak tighter, I wondered when I started crying again. Or had I really stopped?

Alone. Alone. Alone.

'Miss Nightshade,' a low silky voice spoke from behind me, interrupting my thoughts, 'what are you doing, wandering the castle at night?'
Drying my eyes with my sleeves, quickly burying the cigarette in the snow, I looked over my shoulder to find professor Snape sneering in the hallway. He drew closer, coming to a halt in front of me.
'I'm sorry sir, I just-' I looked up at him, tears burning in my eyes, threatening to spill over again. 'I'll go back to the dormitories -' he raised his hand, quieting me.
'Answer me. Why are you here?' I wasn't entirely sure if he asked out of concern, or if he felt obligated to, as my head of house.
How could I explain? What use would it be? A sob escaped from my lips as the tears fell freely down my face. He looked as if my tears were indecent, annoying.
'It's nothing, sir.' Quickly wiping my face once more, I tried to give him a reassuring smile, which felt more like a painful grimace. 'Really I'll just go back and-' professor Snape frowned down at me, his black eyes boring into my blue ones.

Instead of scolding or lecturing me, he held out his hand and asked: 'join me for a walk?'
Too stunned to speak, too numb to think, I accepted his offer, taking his hand and getting to my feet. Wiping the snow off my cloak, I wondered how many detentions he was about to give me. Sure, he was more lenient with the Slytherin students, but breaking rules was never without consequence with any professor, let alone professor Snape.

We walked in silence for at least half an hour through the thick snow, the Black Lake slowly coming into view. My hands, though stuffed into my pockets, went numb with cold. 'Sir I-' he interrupted me for the third time.
In an unusually soft voice, he said: 'no need to explain, miss Nightshade. Not tonight. Though if you wish to, I will listen and assist you however I can.'

Why would he bother?

We walked further down the path, once again in silence. It wasn't uncomfortable, yet I did wonder why he didn't steer me back into the castle, back to my dorms. I didn't voice my question.
As we approached the Black Lake, I could see nothing but black waters and a black sky; darkness as far as the eye could see. The horizon blended together, not revealing where the lake started and the sky ended.

Calm.

'I often come here at night to clear my thoughts,' he drawled, as if he read my mind. I nodded at him.
Why did he take me here? The beauty of this place was indescribable yet the darkness seemed to engulf me, pulling me down underwater. Drowning me. Suffocating. Beckoning me closer. My feet moved of their own accord, carrying me closer to the edge of the lake. I could hear the rocks crunching beneath the snow.
If I could just get closer… let the darkness consume me…
A hand grabbed hold of my elbow, pulling me away from the water's edge, my senses flooding back to me. Sadness overtook me once more.
'Sir, I… I… have nothing left' I sobbed. He spun me around, giving me a loathing look. 'I wish…' it had been me instead of her. I wish to be with mum.

Stop your incessant whining.

I half shrugged and shook my head. Not quite meeting his eyes, hoping to not annoy him further. The hole in my chest ached painfully, threatening to tear me in two. I wrapped my arms around myself, willing the cavity to close, to mend.
Fuck, what does he want? Why didn't he lead me back to the dungeons and scold me there? This felt so much worse… Exposed. My shoulders heaved and I sniffed.
Christmas roses grew on the banks of the lake, I wondered why they hadn't been removed. I knelt down to take a closer look, the purple flowers so vivid on the bright snow.
'Don't-'
'touch,' I finished for him. 'I know.' The beauty of this place, the flowers, seemed to calm my nerves slightly. The cavity in my chest knitted together by a few inches.

Perhaps I should? I had nothing left to lose… Now or never.

Plucking up all the courage I could muster, dropping the last bit of dignity I still possessed, I started rambling: 'Sir I don't know where to start or when to end. I am not sure when or why - last summer well my father he - so my mother she died and he, no I, well somehow at some point we, well then he made me do all the work, he told me a girl doesn't need education, needs to serve the family, but I disagree sir, so I told him but...'
I was talking faster and faster, hardly making sense of the situation for myself, let alone Snape. But I knew that if I'd stop talking now, I would never find the courage to begin again.
He was looking at me, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion, when I remembered the letter.
'Wait no hang on Sna-, professor.'
Was he annoyed with me? Angry? I was fumbling with my pockets, pulling out a now broken quill and candy wrappings, my cheeks flushed in embarrassment when I finally produced the thick parchment. With every fiber of my being trembling, I handed it over.

Should I let him read it?

He unfolded the letter.

It's none of his business.

He started reading.

I am beyond help. I don't deserve help. Lost cause.

His brows knit closer together, his expression unreadable. His eyes kept darting over the parchment, taking in the words that had been so devastatingly clear:

Raven,

You have a lot of nerve writing to me. Did you honestly think that I would welcome you back after the stunt you pulled? Stupid girl.

Your recklessness cost me gravely, is this how you repay me? After everything? You are as useless, selfish and pathetic as your mother was. Don't come back here, there is no home for you in my house.

This is the last you'll ever hear of me. You are of age now, figure it out if you are so clever.

Jonathan Nightshade.

Snape's face was paler than usual, his hands clutching the paper as he read the last words my father would ever speak to me.
No family, no home. Nowhere to go. No money for room and board. How would I survive those two months of summer without food or shelter? Would it even be possible to return to Hogwarts next year? My head was spinning again, my chest felt tight, tears trickled down my cheeks.

Pathetic.

I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, thoughts kept swarming in my head. I'm useless. Selfish. Can't breathe. I deserve this.
Snape must think so as well… How could he not? He hadn't spoken a word. The silence was deafening. My thoughts grew so loud, so overwhelming, I hardly noticed I dropped to my knees. My hands were clutching the snow, the frozen chrystals seemed to be burning my skin. After seconds, minutes, hours… a warm hand touched my shoulder.
'Come with me, it might be possible for me to help you.'

The world came back into focus, my thoughts seemed to slow down, yet I couldn't will my limbs to move.
'Come on, get up' Snape drawled next to me, hoisting me up by my elbow.
The walk back to the castle was a blur, I couldn't believe that I confided in Snape - or at least let him read the letter- regret and relief washed over me.
What must he think of this? Of me? Pathetic. My shoulders were heaving, my chest was burning. The castle krept nearer as the wind swept up the snow around us.

What is going to happen to me?

The grounds blurred by, my feet moving as if they had a mind of their own, and before I realized it we entered professor Snape's office, which was almost as cold as the air outside had been.
The office was packed with books, bound in leather, neatly placed on the bookshelves that adorned the walls. Next to the desk, professor Snape kept multiple odd specimens in glass jars; preserved animals, potion ingredients, dried herbs and flowers.
On the right side of the desk the office connected to the classroom, where I'd been so many times. I was vaguely wondering how often I had been in his office. Last year of course, for career advice. Then at the start of this year, when I arrived and professor Snape -

'Incendio,' professor Snape muttered as the fireplace roared to life, filling the office with much needed warmth.
I felt my teeth clattering, hardly noticing that my cloak was soaking wet now that the snow had melted. Snape waved his wand lazily in my direction, drying my cloak instantly.
'Sit down, miss Nightshade,' he muttered while motioning to an old armchair in the corner in his office.
He leant against his desk and crossed his arms. I felt a sob crawl up my throat as his eyes seemed to peer straight into my soul.
'Explain.'

'Sir,' I started, 'I, well… Please don't think badly of him.' I felt my voice quivering. Snape scoffed in response, almost imperceptibly. 'Really, I shouldn't have, this is all my fault, sir. Please don't, my father is a good man. I shouldn't have -' The sob I've been trying to suppress escaped from my lips, fresh tears clouded my vision.

It was all my fault. It was my fault. My fault.

'During summer break, my mother passed away. It was, well, difficult for both of us.' Snape nodded, his eyes still fixed on mine.
Had he known that she had died?
'The night before, we had a misunderstanding, my father and I. He didn't want me to return to Hogwarts, said he had a job for me, or something like that. We fought about it, mother tried to calm him down. She told him there will be plenty of time for me to work after I finished school, well he…They… It was my fault, sir.'

Because of me. My fault.

The room felt too small, too warm. It felt like the hole in my chest had been ripped open again. I clutched my sides, trying to keep myself from falling apart.
The room was spinning.
Snape pushed himself off the desk and stepped behind it, rummaging in the drawers.
Too small, too warm.
He pulled out a bottle and two glasses. Tears spilled over my eyelids again. Snape unstoppered the bottle and poured the honey-like liquid in both glasses.
My chest was aching.
Handing me one of the glasses, he motioned for me to drink.

The amber liquid was sweet, it tasted like honey and warmed me instantly.
'Madam Rosmerta's,' he explained. 'Mead infused with -'
'walnut' I finished for him. He raised his eyebrow and nodded.
'Indeed,' he muttered.
'My mother, she was a great herbalist, sir. She loves -loved- flowers especially.' The mead seemed to relieve the pain a little, my chest felt a little less tight.
Professor Snape pulled up the chair from behind the desk and sat opposite me, his eyes barely leaving mine.

Loved.

Snape pulled the letter from his pocket, handing it back to me. 'Why did you receive this?' He spoke so softly that I wondered if he was asking me or himself.
'Well, like I said... I went against his wishes and returned for my sixth year at Hogwarts,' I answered.
'How,' he inclined his head, 'did you manage to get back? Seeing that you were not yet off age.'
'Floo Powder, sir,' I said simply. His mouth twitched, as if that somehow amused him.

I shouldn't have.

The mead gave me a sense of bravery and clarity, I continued: 'so my mother died, and that meant I had to take over her duties around the house. It was different, difficult. But we managed, I suppose. Over the summer, he was often away from home or entertaining parties for days on end, which meant that my workload, well, increased.'
I emptied the glass of mead and set it down on the side table. I pulled my cloak closer around as a shiver ran down my spine.
'His friends, or colleagues -I'm not sure- let's just say that weren't very civil. But that doesn't matter now. What I really wanted was to build a life of my own, you see? Mum never…' I trailed off.

I had a good life. It was good enough. I could have managed.

Snape reached beside the chair and picked up the bottle of mead. He refilled my glass and sighed.
'You don't have to continue,' he muttered.
'I do, sir,' I swallowed, willing the tears away. 'Thanks' I sighed, he nodded as I picked up my glass. 'After she, well, I knew where she kept her money. Father used to give her an allowance for groceries and such. She saved whatever she could and hid it under the ginger in her garden, if you'd believe it.' A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth, Snape looked at me with puzzled confusion.
'Never mind - anyway I dug it up and went to Diagon Alley when father left the house one day. She saved up enough for me to be able to buy most of my school supplies and some Floo Powder. I figured that even if… I have, or had, a fireplace in my bedroom, you see. Well if I couldn't persuade him… He said I had a job to do, a girl has to serve and obey' I shuddered, dropping my gaze to the floor.
'You ran away from home,' he sighed.
'Yes, it was stupid. Careless. I know.. I know.. By the time he sorted things out with the Ministry to have me sent home, I was 17. But I knew I made a mistake, selfish. I was so, so selfish. He always took care of mum and me. So when the Christmas holidays were announced, I sent him a letter apologizing, letting him know I'd be home soon. That I made a mistake. You've read his response.'

Serve and obey.

'There is nowhere for me to go. I spend pretty much the last of mum's money on supplies. I don't suppose I'll be able to get my things, my mother's things, back from…' my voice broke again. 'h-how am I going to make it through the summer? I won't be able to pay for anything, sir. Not if I want to keep studying here… I won't be able to save up enough to rent a room, to replace everything I lost… I can't do this, sir,' the words came out like a strangled sob. 
'I don't know how to move on... How to... Perhaps I should accept his offer-' I trailed off again, clutching my sides.

Useless. Selfish. Pathetic.

I had lost my home, my family, my parents. It was because of me, my fault… If I… She...
All the feelings that the mead had kept at bay came back at me with the force of a hurricane. The room closed in on me. It felt like a hippogriff was sitting on my chest. My throat was burning.
Stupid girl.
If I hadn't, that night… The jars on the shelves danced around, the animals mocking me.
Serve and obey. Why is it so hot in here? Focus. Breathe. Why won't the room stop spinning? Focus. Breathe. Glass shattered on the stone floor. I could see my chest rising, but no air seemed to be filling my lungs. Loved. What the fuck is happening to me? Gasping, suffocating, drowning. My fault. Keep it together. Nobody wants you. I clutched my sides harder. Stop whining. The hole in my chest ached. Useless. If only the room would stop spinning. Selfish. I'm suffocating, why can't I breathe? Pathetic. I could hear a muffled voice in the distance. Alone. Liquid on my tongue. I'm drowning. I'm dying. I'm going to die. Deserved. A hand behind my head. My heart… Death.

There was only darkness. Only night. Death.

Quiet.