Ashwinder :: To bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses

The 'meal' was finished in silence and Hermione piled the things back on the tray. After an awkward pause, she said carefully, "I… realize, sir, that this was not your plan. And I… apologize. But I couldn't just leave you there, you see. Not after… And nobody else seemed to think it was important. Not Harry, not Professor McGonagall…

"I just… couldn't not come."

There was a pleading in her eyes.

He sighed. "No, you couldn't." It had been inevitable. His own fault for ignoring that. "Go to bed, Miss Granger. We'll talk tomorrow when we can both think properly."

He awoke in the dark, early hours, Nagini's bite throbbing. Severus gritted his teeth, enduring its burn.

Harsh whimpers broke his concentration. Startled, he listened for the source - alarmingly obvious as they escalated into agonised screams. Palming his wand, he raced to Granger's room.

She was alone.

Her body arched, rigid with pain. Appalled, he stared, motionless until a streak of orange bowled him over. The cat leapt into bed, purring madly, nudging and rubbing, soothing the dream-haunted girl until shrieks became sobs, whimpers, breaths. Still asleep, she clung to the cat; its eyes shone, challenging, through the darkness.

Severus slowly picked himself up off the floor. He could leave now, if he wanted. Granger was obviously in no condition to stop him and he was just as obviously able to walk out the door. He could leave. He should leave. To stay would mean becoming involved, risking the freedom that he craved— needed —and meant to finally take.

His life here was over. He wanted it over. As Granger so amply demonstrated, there was nothing here but pain ad infinitum. Not to mention incarceration and/ or death. Here, he was a dead man.

He wanted to remain so.

scribed 9/25/07