Healing

He was finally getting some freedom of movement, now. He hadn’t managed to move much without a strengh potion for months. It had been infuriating and humiliating, at times, to not have full control over his own body. He had needed her help, even with the potion, in the beginning. The first few weeks, he had cried his heart out, all day, everyday, from the moment she had been out for work until her return. He had cried for everything. His current state. The people he’d lost. His past. Had he ever taken the time to mourn, before almost dying? Unlikely. Then of course, he had dried his tears, whenever he had heard the door open, and she had pretended not to notice his red eyes. It had been helpful, he’d found. The way she had done her job relentlessly, and unemotionally. And progress had shown. At last.

After weeks of frustration and despair, he had ceased weeping and started reading. His mind had needed distraction, refreshing. Now, he clung on the project he’d made to make his healer’s coffers safe. He clung on the hope to be useful to her when he would be ready. And of course, he found motivation in the insane challenge : he would have to outsmart the Dark Lord himself, to go through of all his little traps, and survive them. He would have to be really skilled for that. So, he re-read all of his defense against the dark arts books, and all of his old notebooks, with all of his tricks, and his private spells, conceived out of spite, out of anger, out of fear, when he’d been alone and idle. And he took notes. And he remembered. It was keeping him buisy.

When she was back from work, he observed her. He had to remind himself that she was nothing like her uncle. He clung on the little details : the gap between her teeth, the scars on her delicate hands. He hadn’t asked questions. People generally liked to talk about themselves, if you listened hard enough. She didn’t. But it was informative to see her cook (often overly spicy noodle soups), and care about his progress. It was enough to see her always crushing herbs, and having potions on the stove. Her actions showed how hard she was trying. He had, of course, comments to make about her potions, and she would swear in parselmouth under her breath when she would get annoyed. And she was eating all the time. As tiny as she was. She didn’t like being made fun of, but he couldn’t help it. It did help to observe. To get to know her. It did help to notice how she didn’t seem too egotistical or intimidating. For all that was worth.

He heard the click of the door, and straightened up.

« Good evening. » he called.

« How was your day? »

« Long. » she sighed.

« It’s beginning to be dragon pox season. »

And of course, she was right. It was late. He just hadn’t noticed the time.

She laid her coat on a chair, and casually threw a large and thick black book on his knees. Severus brushed the dusty cover with his thumb. The title was : Diving into the shadows by Karta Junksher himself. He gasped. It was an ancient dark arts classic. It was rare.

« So you don’t get too bored. You seem to like this sort of thing. »

-Where did you get it? »

-I borrowed it from the archives of the ministry. They shouldn’t notice, if I put it back in a few days. »

-How did you get in? » No one was allowed into the archives of the ministry without authorization, in the first place.

-Do I want to know? » he grumbled.

-And you’re welcome. »

After dinner, they walked by the river. The air was soft on the skin. There was a faint smell of dust and mould, in this part of town, but the breeze was fresh enough, once you got used to it. The grass looked pityful on the little alley. But it was quiet. And it was home. It had always been.

« So, you’re stealing from the archives of the ministry, now? » he smirked.

-I didn’t steal. I borrowed. Serves them right for not providing a student proper ressources. »

-You mean : the Healing Institute of London for Dedicated Academics does not have a library? »

-As a matter of fact, it does. A poor excuse of a library it is. I read all there is to read there. I needed more in depth material. It was frustrating. »

-How did you not get caught, though? » he was genuinely interested. She dismissed him with an embarrassed, vague gesture, unwilling to talk about it.

-Do you want me to bring that book back, now, then. »

-No, no. By all means. I’ve been wanting to look into that book for ages. I’m not the one who took the risks. And what if I don’t want to hand it back at all? » he added playfully. She shoved him gently.

-I don’t think so. You’re not doing this to me. »

He was walking with a cane, now. She was hardly helping. No potion, either. He was pleased with the progress he’d made. Soon, he would be able to work again. It wasn’t like he rejoiced having to look for a job, after years of convalescence, but he was frustrated with his life at the moment. And he was getting restless. It was not exactly funny to be stuck in Spinner’s End. He wasn’t a social person, much. He was not a fan of crowds, or noise, or bright lights, or the outer world in general. But he did feel that he needed to put himself in motion. He was not going to spend the rest of his days in idleness and isolation.

« You’re doing well. » she mused.

« You’ll be back to work in no time. » It was like she had been reading his mind. He checked his inner defenses. She had, possibly.

-Yes, I will. » he replied. Though, what work, he had no idea.

-Do you miss Hogwarts? » she inquired.

Not really, he realized. He had been teaching for decades, and he hadn’t been that fond of the job, to be honest : the agreeable moments when he had felt useful had been scarce. Most of his career had been about worrying for the boldest daredevils, getting frustrated about the overall immature laziness, getting annoyed at the insolent ones. Sleepless nights running after whoever was in the mood for mischief. And running errands for Dumbledore, once in a while. And reading miles and miles of boring scrolls full of basic mistakes, and grammatical errors. And the constant hubbub. No. The last thing he wanted, at this point, was to be surrounded by children. Let alone live with them. But then, what could he do, now?

« You don’t. » that wasn’t a question. And she was right.

-So, you won’t be teaching anymore? »

-I might apply down Diagon Alley. » he improvised.

-They might be hiring there. »

-As a former potion master, I’m sure you could find a place at Slug and Jiggers Apothecary. Or perhaps, at that joke shop, the Weasley Wizards Weezes. »

-Why would I work in a joke shop? » Not in a million years.

-I hear they have a Defense Against the Dark Arts section. They might appreciate your expertise. »

-In a joke shop? Why would they sell Defense Against the Dark Arts devices in a joke shop? That makes no sense! » he exclaimed. But he was intrigued by the information.

-And who would they sell their devices to? Children? I dare hope not! »

-Probably to aurors. »

-Aurors would get their working tools from a joke shop. »

-Apparently. »

-Is this even real? »

-The rumor has it. »

This must have been one of their jokes. But he would have to come and see. Silence lended on the scarce patch of grass like cotton.

« Do you still intend to go look into those coffers? » she asked tentatively.

-I do. As promised. » He would. There was no doubt about it.

The air felt a little heavier, now that he had to think about the Dark Lord, again. He had to. He would have no choice. He would have to remember. Think like him, even.

« We might get rich, then. » she concluded levelly.

« Might » was the right word. She surely would be, if he survived the ordeal. There was no guarantee. And even supposing he would manage making her coffers safe, she would certainly end up deciding there was no « we ». He was not hanging on her promise. He wanted to do it because he needed an aim, a challenge. Something to focus on to avoid thinking. So he had decided that he might as well focus on something he had some skill for. It was still better than having no purpose whatsoever. He guessed it was also his little way to posthumously defy the dark Lord.

The sun was looming ever closer to the horizon. He stared at her, while she was looking pensively at the river. Her eyes were a striking midnight indigo blue in the warm, golden sheen of the evening. Her silken hair, bound in two buns and two braids, also had blue reflections. She wore a tattered green kimono. Overall, she looked pretty, like a living doll, petite and fragile, but with a very serious expression that made you look twice, and a sublte, undefinable, wild little something about her. It was her eyes, he thought. She broke the silence.

« I’ve never been rich, you know. »

-Me neither. »

He hadn’t done too badly, though, for one of those « awful boys of Spinners End », though. His job as a professor, had been paid better than what he could have hoped for. Even though, in the end, he had never been granted the « greatness » that had been promised by the Dark Lord. But he had learned to have very simple needs from a very young age. And he had always been more proud than materialistic. And after decades of working as an errand boy for two terrible men, much of that pride had been tamed, anyway.

« What would you do, with the money? » she inquired.

That made him chuckle. It was a silly question, since he would probably never lay a hand on any of it. It was dream talk, wasn’t it? Dreaming was useless, he found. He had only ever dreamed of a future with Lily Evans, and she had always been out of reach. He had lost her altogether, ultimately. And he had dreamed of recognition and respectability, but it had never really happened. Instead, he had been used by some, and distrusted by most. Dreaming was silly. But why not pretend?

« I would settle a Defense Against the Dark Arts Shop right over here. » he smirked, showing one of the biggest buildings in the distance.

« If those Weasley brats could do it, I could certainly do it too. I would sell the auror department proper attire, maybe even help with their training, working as a consultant. And, hum… Let’s see… I would build a music studio over here, a concert room over there, hum… Oh, that would be an art gallery… »

-Hey, that project is too expensive! » she exclaimed. She was looking at him with her arms crossed, and a half smile.

-I would need some of the money! »

-What would you do with it? » She resumed looking dreamily at the lake. Severus listened intently. She would finally say something about herself. Interesting.

-I’m a healer. That’s what I do.  » She smiled.

-You know, back home, in Li, I used to work in my father’s apothecary shop. So, I would just settle my own. I would sell the best potions, and unguents, and powders, and pultrices. And get the best ingredients. Asphodel, belladona, hellebore, mandrake, even my very own bezoars! That would be something! » an extatic smile transfigured her face. She really loved her job. Severus felt his heart pound, a little. She did look sweet, at this moment, under the sunset. She showed the factory.

-That place, over there, would be interesting to get. It’s abandonned, isn’t it? That means I could rebuy it, and reshape it into a proper working place, with spaces for potion making, and ingredient storing, and a shop, and even a bed or two, for patients who would need treatments. That would be perfect. And also, I would need a large patch of cultivable land with good soil. » she added with a determined little nod.

-What for? »

-To grow my plants, of course! Possibly, also to breed a couple of interesting magical creatures. If I’m going to open my own apothecary, I might as well do it right, and make sure I get fresh, healthy ingredients. Do you really think i would rely on external suppliers? I don’t think so! I don’t work like an amateur! » she said this with a disgusted little pout. It was amusing.

-You would do everything yourself? Top to bottom? »

-Obviously! »

-That would be a lot of work. You would need to hire people. And you would have to make people want to go to spinner’s end, if you mean to settle your business here. »

-Probably. It could work. It’s not too far from the city, and it has an eerie kind of beauty…  » she looked thoughtfully at the river.

-You too. For your business, I mean. You would need to attract clients to sell your products and your tutoring. We will need to really work on this place to make people want to walk by it. » We. She seemed serious too, for now. That was sweet.

Good luck with rehabilitating the old place, though, he thought to himself. Instead, he said :

-Guess I’ll need to work through these coffers, first. »

-True. »

Indeed, there was the tiny matter of the Dark lord’s deadly curses on his own gold.

« I’d rather you didn’t get killed, in there. » she muttered.

« Don’t put yourself too much in danger. I took some time healing you. »

He stroke her hair, and thought : If she knew.