A/N I have been sitting on this story for a little while but after some help from Kreeblim Sabs I am ready to post after working out some kinks. This one will probably not be updated as regularly as some of my others as it has been making itself awkward to draft, let me know what you think.
-/-
Please do not let me wake, let me not be cognizant of this reality, for in dreams lies my true escape, in dreams, I am a different man.
-/-
Severus Snape woke up suddenly. Gasping for air his body lurched forward, his limbs reacting to his mind's confusion induced panic. He could only register white light, the absoluteness of the pure colour invading his eyelids. He struggled against the fear gripping his chest, holding him hostage to open his eyes.
There was nothing, wherever he was he certainly wasn't in the shack anymore, he may not have been able to process everything but he could sense the surface he was laying on was soft and the air was clean and… sterile.
St Mungo's, how had he got here?
His body relaxed as he realised he wasn't in danger anymore, well at least not in immediate danger. As he let his limbs fall to rest on the surface of the cot he focused on relaxing his breathing enough to order his thoughts.
In… out… in… out.
He moved his arm gingerly and at length the bony fingers on the end of his pale hands responded to his commands, each tiny movement shot pain up to his shoulder but he continued his gentle assessment of his ability, all confirming what he dreaded more than anything else.
He couldn't be dead he was in too much bloody pain.
-/-
I had longed for Death, the unwise man fears the black cloak of the Grim Reaper, I had sat up in wait for him for years, desperate for him to take me to my freedom.
-/-
This had never been part of the plan.
From the moment Dumbledore had outlined his mission, his expectation had been to die, backed into the corner by loyalty to The Order and then the Malfoy's, he had never expected to make it through the final battle.
His heart stopped beating briefly when he remembered the memories willingly given to a bemused Harry Potter, a low groan fell from his throat, he started at the distorted timbre of his voice and gently coaxed his arm to his throat removing the heavy bandaging he found their delicately.
The wounds were sealed at least but large, from what he could feel beneath the pads of his fingers most of the right side of his neck had been affected. It's fine, he told himself, it's not like you had looks to ruin.
He opened his eyes to scan the room again, there was no sign of any other life, he was tucked into a private room a window was open but little air moved through it, he could see light streaming in, enough to know it was daytime but what day? His eyes fell to the door and he wondered if it was guarded.
How much did they all know? Would he be heading to Azkaban for his crimes?
-/-
No matter how fast you are you will never outrun your past, your remembrances of bad deeds will sticks to the very soles of your feet like an inescapable shadow.
-/-
Once he would have believed that he did not deserve to spend the rest of his days in the wizarding prison. Even though had offered himself willing to The Dark Lord as a boy just out of Hogwarts, he had salivated with the idea of power and prestige, the notion of belonging, belonging to a group that would become the elite of society.
But instead, he had thrown himself at the feet of a man that had failed to protect him more once. His soul was seemingly for hire. Dumbledore had tied the noose around his neck that day and Severus had kept a perilous grip on the stool beneath his feet ever since.
He had resigned himself to a life with two masters, two that would never be happy with him because of the existence of the other. What would the world make of him now neither were there to justify his sins?
Who was he now they were no longer perched on his shoulders?
-/-
To watch one you truly love suffer is one of the greatest pains of life's experience, to observe their suffering at your own hand is a torture not to be wished on any person.
-/-
Hermione sat in the sterile room sipping from the paper cup, wondering for the millionth time if the styrofoam material was more nutritionally enriching than its contents.
It was essential though, a ritual of sorts, when she had first come here she didn't even drink it was just to have something to do with her hands.
Now she made little sips at regular intervals as she watched her parents reclined in their twin beds. Life on the Janus Thickey ward was all about routine. Hermione was glad, she liked routine, routine helped her cope.
They had made a special allowance for her parents to be included here despite being muggles. Headmistress McGonagall had seen to it.
The healers in charge here had high hopes for their recovery, but it would take time.
Time was fine, Hermione had nothing but.
They hadn't been so positive at first, that first day when she came in emotions running all over the place as she frantically explained what had happened. The reversal charms had caused a regression, her parents had been unresponsive.
-/-
I raced to your door at a speed I would have never imagined possible, unmindful of any obstacles in my path so focused on my goal was I, I had feared that when I arrived you might not be there it had never occurred to me that was not the real danger.
-/-
Almost as soon as Voldemort's body had hit the dusty ground she had been collecting herself together to make the trip to Australia, she had been delayed by those around her, urging her to wait a day. In the end, she had capitulated, she would wait an extra day but only that long. She had carried out her duty to Harry she had to help them now.
She had managed to get herself washed up and get a change of clothes, she glamoured her face to hide away the worst of the cuts and bruising there was little she could do about her slim body but it would have to do.
She found them in four days by looking up dental practices under the names she had suggested and made her way to the rural suburb they had settled in.
The familiar plants that had been chosen made her heart hurt, made her legs move quicker. When they let her into the property she immediately immobilised them and set about casting charm after charm she had practised and practised while she was on the run.
When things had got bad, stuck in that self-made prison of a tent, she had fantasised about this moment, everything would be ok once she had her parents back.
When the spells lifted and they woke up she realised just how wrong everything had gone, not only did they not recognise her but neither did they recognise each other or know who they were.
Hermione had panicked and somehow had managed to get them here.
-/-
Everyone watches a chrysalis with the expectation that the butterfly will know how to break forth, what becomes of those would-be-butterflies that were never shown the way?
-/-
She had failed.
The charms hadn't worked or at least hadn't worked in the way she had expected. They removed the obliviation she had carried out on them but the strength of the spells she used had taken away more than she had intended. It would take their minds time to recover, she was assured that they would now.
For the girl that got everything right, this last year had been a difficult one. Magic and books were supposed to work for her, she was supposed to be the clever one that could solve all of the problems and yet she now knew that not all answers would be there for her on a piece of parchment.
She also knew that sometimes, some horrible dark times, that when she didn't know the answer people got hurt.
It was a hard lesson to swallow, information had always been her solace, people had always been difficult but learning, learning was what she had built herself around.
When that was gone what did she have?