The Silver Cauldron

Chapter 22 - Guilt

I was ill for several weeks. The dizziness took a long time to pass over and the fact that I had not eaten or slept properly for months added probably didn't help my recovery. I think it was also partly self - induced - I was dreading returning to work and him.

Several people sent me cards. Neville brought a bottle of perfectly brewed strengthening potion, which pleased me more than all the other cards put together. Madame Pomfrey wisely confiscated the bottle and forbade me to drink any of it. Madame Hooch renewed our friendship by a visit in which she replayed every detail of the Slytherin - Hufflepuff match. Hufflepuff hadn't won of course, which was a pity as I had a soft spot for that house. Professor Sprout sent me a strange plant whose buds grew like pink bubbles; every so often one of these would detach itself from the stalk and float away across the ward, before bursting with a deafening BANG!, showering the floor with rainbow coloured seeds. Madame Pomfrey was not amused.

Snape did not visit me, for which I was grateful. I was dreading having to tell him. One night however, I was half asleep when I felt something lightly brush my face. In that semi - conscious state between wake and sleep I saw - or thought I saw - someone dressed in black by my bedside. He stood over me, with a strange expression of infinite sadness and grief on his face. When he realised I had woken he delicately removed a strand of hair from my cheek and left without a word. Fully awake, I sat up in bed and looked around the ward, but it was silent and deserted. The next morning I had forgotten the whole incident.

At last the fever passed and I was fit enough to return to work. As I had anticipated, there was a huge amount of work to catch up on. I didn't help having Snape breathing down my neck and generally trying to make it as difficult as possible for me. His attitude towards me seemed close to loathing; scarcely a day passed without us having an argument over some trivial thing. And all the time I had that nagging shadow in the back of my mind. I was going to have to tell him. And I was going to have to tell him soon.

It was a few weeks before the end of term when I finally plucked up enough courage to walk the long, long passageway that led to Snape's office. I felt unexplainably frightened. Guilty too, as if this was somehow all my fault. Which I suppose, in a way, it was. I gingerly knocked on the door. There was no response. I knocked again, the solid iron bolts grazing my knuckles. A sharp groan of impatience issued from within, bolts were drawn back and he opened the door. He frowned when he saw it was only me.

"What do you want?" he snapped irritably.

"I need to speak to you." I felt rather like a small child about to explain to the headmaster why the staff room window was broken.

"See me in the morning." he slammed the door shut in my face.

I waited a few seconds, shocked. Then I knocked again. He must have been waiting just inside the door for he opened it quickly, and I saw that his hands were clenched.

"I have to tell you. I have to tell you now."

"What could you have to tell me that is so important?" he sneered.

"Please, let me in. I can't tell you in the corridor."

"Of course you can. You have a tongue in your head don't you?" I drew a deep breath.

"I'm going to have a baby".

He froze. Wordlessly he let the door swing open to admit me. It slammed shut. He lent his head upon the back of the door. Then slowly pulled the bolts back across. He turned to face me, his eyes closed.

"No. I can't be true. It can't."

"I can assure you it is," I said. His eyes snapped open.

"Whose is it then? Which one of the Death Eaters have you been after now? Malfoy? Nott?"

"Of course it's yours!" I said angrily. "What do you take me for?! There was never anyone before you and there never will be again. I've learnt that lesson hard enough." He smiled painfully.

"I merely meant, my dear, that it would have been impossible for you to conceive with me. I made you drink that potion, remember?"

"Not every time." He looked horrified.

"You...you mean...?" My cheeks went red. He looked at the floor. His next words tore at my heart like a knife.

"You can't have this child."

"Why not?"

"It was conceived under an unforgivable curse. Sown by two Death Eaters. It will have a cursed life." I felt as if my whole world was collapsing around me.

"I can't kill my own baby" I said firmly. He glared at me fiercely.

"It is my child, not yours. Born of my desire, my lust, my sin. I should choose whether it lives or dies." He opened a cupboard and removed some bottles from it.

"I will make you the potion. It will be quick, painless. No one will ever know. I won't pass my shame onto another."

"No! I'm not killing it!"

Snape put the bottles down with a crash. He moved towards me threateningly and I backed away until my back hit the bookcase behind me.

"Look at yourself" he hissed. "You're hardly in a fit parent to have a child are you? Don't you realise what you are? You've sold your soul to Voldemort. You're soiled, tainted by evil."

"Which is why I don't want to kill it. I want to show there is some goodness in me."

"Completely the wrong reason for having a child! You can't do this to ease your own guilt!"

"Or yours." He put his hands upon my waistline.

"Oh Philoma. You're so fragile. I can circle your waist with my hands, break you easier than I could break the stem of a flower. You are in no fit state to have a baby."

"You don't care about the child" I said slowly. "You only care about yourself. What people will say. You hate children - that is evident from the way you teach." He laughed bitterly.

"How can you say that? How can you look me in the face and say that? Do I mean nothing to you?"

"More than I mean to you!"

"Philoma, sometimes I begin to hate you. Why do you torture me like this?"

"I torture you? I'm not the one telling you to kill your own child!" He moved his hand to my cheek.

"Because you won't surrender to me. Every night I am kept awake by the thought of your body against mine. I am sick of it, sick of you, but you're always there, knawing away inside me. Don't say you have never thought of that? But how can you. You are cold, unpassionate. I do not want you to have my child. It will be a restriction, a tie." A lump grew in my throat. I brushed his hand away.

"We should never have begun this. There is no happiness in our relationship, I can see that now. Only pain." He shook his head sadly.

"Oh no, Philoma. I won't let you go. It's too late for that. You can't reject me. You will always love me, whether you want to or not. Whatever dreams you have of your own independence you heart is still tied to mine." I moved away from him.

"That is exactly why I want to stop it. We have gone too far, betrayed each other's trust. There's nothing left."

A sudden light entered his eyes, wild, unbridled anger, twisted into their hollow depths like a burnt bramble. Afraid I made to leave, wrenching back one of the heavy bolts, but he stormed over and pulled me into a crushing embrace.

"Nothing left but this" he spat, and kissed me fiercely. I felt his hatred apparent even in the kiss, blazing and strong. He bit at my lips, drawing blood and bruising them with his force. His clawlike hands gripped my hair by its roots and scratched my skin. I stifled back a scream. Sensing my fear he gripped me even more closely, letting me feel every muscle in his body through his robes, tight with desire. He released me suddenly and pushed me, trembling, towards the door.

"See what you have driven me to? Compelled to snatch emotion from you by force. I need you Philoma. You will be mine or no - one's. I am going to make you regret this. Now get out of my sight."

I needed no second warning. I ran for my life.