❀ 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉ℯ𝓇 𝓉𝓌ℯ𝓃𝓉𝓎 𝒻𝒾𝓋ℯ ❀

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❤︎𝓸𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓷 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓮𝔁𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮 𝓻𝓮𝓳𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 𝓯𝓻𝓸𝓶 𝓹𝓮𝓸𝓹𝓵𝓮, 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓴 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓰𝓸𝓸𝓭 𝓮𝓷𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱. 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓽𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓱 𝓲𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓼𝓮 𝓹𝓮𝓸𝓹𝓵𝓮 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝔂 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓰𝓲𝓿𝓮❤︎


With a gentle push, I glide through the threshold, unveiling the inner sanctum of the Potions Master's living room—a realm perpetually cloaked in an ethereal dimness. My eyes, attuned to the muted glow, sweep over the scene before me, absorbing the sight of Severus, his slender form nestled behind the desk, his head cradled within his hands. Yet, something in his countenance evokes a sense of disquiet, a flicker of concern that surges within me. His customary gesture of acknowledging my presence with a fleeting glance, a silent confirmation of my identity, is absent. A tinge of amusement, reminiscent of bygone days, tingles at the corners of my lips, for who else but me would willingly venture into the hallowed recesses of Severus's private chambers?

As I draw nearer to the mahogany table, my gaze locks onto his, only to find them wearied, languid, as though burdened by an unseen weight. The unease that once merely grazed the surface of my thoughts now blossoms into full-fledged concern. My eyes, compelled by an unseen force, descend upon his neck—a canvas where Nagini's fangs once ravaged his flesh, leaving behind a crimson scar that gleams ominously. A gasp, faint but resolute, escapes my parted lips, as the memory of a perilous past resurfaces. My bag, forgotten, tumbles carelessly to the floor, its contents scattered amidst the carpet's embrace, as I instinctively round the table, propelled by an urgency to bridge the distance between us. Still, Severus remains wordless, his gaze fixated upon me, an enigma cloaked in silence.

Caution and empathy intermingle within me as my hand alights upon his shoulder, an offering of solace, an assurance of unwavering support. It is a gesture tempered by the awareness of his fragility, of the shadows that threaten to engulf him. I suppress, with fervent determination, any hint of trepidation that threatens to betray my resolve.

"Go... please. You know what this means. I don't want-"

"I shall not depart from your side, dear Severus. No matter the cost."

A tremor, subtle yet palpable, courses through his body, mirroring the turmoil that consumes him. Slowly, as if burdened by both pain and the weight of his vulnerability, he turns to face me, his eyes harboring a glint of warning, a menacing flicker. In days past, such a glance might have elicited a flinch, a recoil, but not today. No, today I discern the quiet desperation that dances beneath the surface, the veil of fear that he attempts to conceal. Though he would never confess it, I know he dreads the agony that gnaws at his being, the precipice that threatens to swallow him whole. I have witnessed his unraveling, the shards of his soul scattered in the wake of anguish, and yet, my voice remained silent, my concern veiled in tender restraint.

"I shall not forsake you. Not now, nor ever."

His eyes, ablaze with a silent plea, convey a truth known only to our hearts. He, despite the semblance of resistance, finds solace in the knowledge that he need not endure his torment in solitude.

"What can I do? Shall I seek Madame Pomfrey's aid? Shall I retrieve the elixir?"

"The potion... Laboratory..."

Without hesitation, I sidestep, granting him passage as he rises, his faltering steps leading him more to the embrace of the sofa than a deliberate stride. His trembling hands, akin to delicate reeds swaying in the tempest, betray the strain that courses through his veins. Memories of a time not long ago resurface, haunting my consciousness, leaving me feeling impotent in the face of his suffering. The anguished gasp, distorted and piercing, reverberates through the room, assaulting the sanctuary of my heart. My mind, a tempest of urgency, implores me to retrieve the sought-after potion, and yet, my legs, unyielding, hold me captive in the role of an observer. I stand, rooted in place, bearing witness to the man before me, his very essence threatened by the sting of affliction.

ℒℯ𝓈𝓈ℴ𝓃 ℴ𝒻 ℒ𝒾𝒻ℯ 𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠ℎOù les histoires vivent. Découvrez maintenant