Nocturne Grim

Nocturne Grim

Chapter Three

Notes: I have a horrible feeling this is going to be another mini-epic. I should stop doing these kind of stories while I still have my sanity.

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"What the fuck was that?" Snape looked down at the disorientated young woman, who was sprawled at his feet on the floor of his motel room, her hair all over her face, which had drained of colour.

She looked terrified, shaken and furious, squinting around the dimly-lit room.

He had left the bedside lamps on, lest anyone wondered if he was in. He was grateful he had had the foresight, so he and the girl had not been plunged into a pitch-black room, which would have done little to support the theory that he was honestly trying to help.

Offering her a hand to help her up, he was unsurprised when she struggled onto her feet herself, staring at him guardedly. "That was a portkey," he replied, lowering his hand. "We use them as transportation devices if we wish to travel in groups."

"So all that stuff you were telling me about magic and shit was true? Everything?"

"Of course."

She took the news rather well, considering, swaying a little.

"Shit on a stick..."

The corners of his lips lifted in a smile. She was nothing if not eloquent. "I would suggest that you sit down somewhere and regain your balance, before your legs decide to do that favour for you," he said.

"Yeah...good idea..." Her eyes flicked around the room and he recognised the wary suspicion in her pale face, her hair hanging in lank curtains around her features.

It was the expression of one who felt that they were trapped in a dangerous position.

"A temporary room," he said as an explanation, before she could even manage to voice her question. "I wanted to be sure you knew of the enormity of the task ahead of you, before you decide if you wish to join me or not."

"Why here?"

"Why not?"

She seemed to accept that, sitting down on the bed nearest her, not that there was much between them. A hiss of pain escaped her, her hands rising to press against her belly, one of them coming away crimson. "Dammit..."

Snape felt his throat constrict. If he hadn't been there...

"You're hurt..."

"No shit, Sherlock."

Making his way quickly through to the bathroom, he opened the wooden box that contained his various small bottles of potions. Selecting three of them, he returned to the bedroom, where Faith was still sitting on the bed.

"Let me see," he said crisply, kneeling down by the bed. Faith gave him a look that suggested she wasn't about to be helpful in any way. "Faith, I have healing solutions, but if you wish to be stubborn, I would quite happily put a binding spell on you, to prevent you moving."

"Like you did with that demon-thing in my cell?"

"Correct," he replied, mentally sighing with relief as she winced and withdrew her hands from her stomach, drawing up the ragged, torn material of the shirt to reveal four parallel stripes slashed across the flat spread of skin.

The sight of the open injuries made him wince. How could she have even stood up with ragged tears like that on her torso? Any normal person would have fainted from the pain alone...

But then, she was hardly a normal person.

And she was staring at him expectantly.

If she was willing to let him treat her, that was certainly a start.

Summoning a cloth from the bathroom, he splashed some of his cleansing solution onto it and gently but firmly swept away the blood and oily residue from the wounds, which were already beginning to close.

Glancing up at Faith through his dark lashes, he could that see she had her teeth clenched together, her nostrils flaring, but she wasn't making a sound, even though it was obvious she was in pain.

Strong in spirit.

It was a rare thing.

"You heal fast," he murmured.

"Yeah," she replied tightly. "One of the added bonuses of being the Slayer."

With a gentler touch, Severus used his fingertips to smear a thicker, creamy yellow lotion onto the four wounds, wiping his hands on the cloth as soon as each wound was liberally covered.

His eyes rose to the girl's. She still had a tight expression locked on her face, her eyes focused on her fist, which was resting on her knee.

Rising from his knees, he returned to the bathroom, packing away the bottles in the box. Pausing, he looked up at the mirror over the stained white sink, staring briefly at his reflection.

Was he really ready for this?

After all, he could hardly save himself. Would he be able to save this girl?

Rubbing his forehead with his fingertips, he exhaled a long breath.

It was too late to change his mind now, he knew. He had broken the girl out of the prison, in the very moment she was meant to be assassinated, and it was more than likely that they would believe her to be dead.

That, in itself, was a blessing.

It saved the trouble of the formal paper work and details.

Straightening his back, he walked back through to the bedroom area, to find Faith sitting exactly as he had left her, staring at her right hand, which was curled in a fist on her right thigh.

"Faith?" Her head jerked up. "Do you wish to talk now, or would you prefer to get some sleep? We can talk in the morning."

Her eyes drifted to the mattress of the bed she was sitting on, then she looked back at him cautiously. I don't have anything for sleeping in," she replied, as if worried about saying something wrong.

Severus was hard-pressed to conceal a smile. How very like him, she was.

When he had first gone to Dumbledore, begging to come back to the light side, he had acted the same way. He hadn't wanted to do anything wrong, in case his chance slipped through his fingers.

With a gesture of his wand, a pair of simple beige pyjamas appeared on the bed beside her and she raised her eyebrows.

"Will they suffice?"

"You can just magic everything like that?"

Severus nodded, amused by the wonder in her voice. To think he had liberated her from a sentence for homicide and here she was, eyes wide and captivated as a muggle child by the very idea of magic.

"We can do most everything by magic, Faith," he answered with a smile.

"Wicked cool," she whispered, touching the fabric of the nightwear, as if to check that it was actually real and not just some elaborate kind of illusion. "These are really for me to use?"

"I wouldn't say they are my colour, would you?"

Faith laughed loudly, then seemed to freeze, as if she had committed a serious faux pas, staring up at him as if she expected him to do something hurtful to her.

So terrified of doing something wrong, so desperate to please...

"You don't need to be afraid of laughing anymore, Faith," Severus said gently, approaching the two beds and sitting down opposite her. "And you certainly have no need to fear me."

She was staring at him again, warily.

It was obvious that she was trying to understand just what he was, why he was acting the way he was, how his mind worked.

And, he supposed, it was justified, considering how he looked.

He had changed back into his familiar comfortable robes for his infiltration of the jail and they always framed him in a terrifying way. Robes and jails. He could look spectacularly evil when he wanted to and the robes just served as one of the props in that facade.

"Does my attire concern you?"

"Why the creepy-lookin' dress?" she asked, her brows beetling together.

"These are robes," Snape answered dryly. "And I wear them for comfort and the additional and highly practical purpose of terrifying small and helpless children, who find it amusing to stare at my nose."

This time, she didn't hold in the laughter. It bubbled out of her and Severus actually felt himself smile in response. It was probably far too long since she had been able to simply laugh and smile.

It was certainly a relief to know that she still had the ability.

"So you wearin' a bad-ass dress doesn't mean you're wicked evil?"

"My wearing high-necked robes," he replied, his expression deadpan. "Means only that I appreciate the fashion statement that various cultural icons have made through the centuries with flaring cloaks and the like."

"Like who?"

"Darth Vader," he sniffed, trying to smother a chuckle as she doubled over laughing.

"I didn't think that wizards would watch Star Wars," she said, shaking her head, still laughing. It was definitely good progress. She was starting to feel comfortable around him. Not trusting him yet, but comfortable. "Especially not someone like you..."

"Proving that things are not always how they appear," he said seriously.

She nodded. "I know that feeling," she said. "So, if you haven't killed me by morning, maybe you aren't as wicked creepy as you look."

"Now, I wouldn't go that far. I most certainly am as...er...wicked creepy as I look."

One side of her mouth rose in a half-smile. "Its kinda funny lookin' at you lookin' like that," she remarked. "I'm busted outta jail by a guy with a magic stick who wears more dresses than I do."

"You really are trying to try my patience, are you not?"

"Just letting you know what you're in for, Sev," she replied, getting to her feet and picking up the pyjamas, hugging them to her chest as if they were the most precious gift she had ever received.

"I always had my suspicions," he said, sitting back a little on the bed to allow her to pass and go into the small en suite bathroom to change.

Leaning over the narrow bed, he retrieved a black-covered book he had left on the mattress, opening the thick, parchment pages and retrieving then never-empty quill from the margin.

His journal.

He kept all his thoughts and ponderings closed within it's heavy covers. Placing the tip of the quill to the page, he started to scratch on the parchment, barely even aware of the return of his young charge, until she eased passed him to get to her bed, clad in the baggy, cosy pyjamas.

Strangely shy, she climbed into the bed, pulling the blankets up, fluffing the pillows before she lay down on her back and stared up at the ceiling. "Sev."

"Yes?"

She wet her lips, then looked across at him. "Th-thank you."

His black eyes met her dark brown ones. "It was my privilege and pleasure, Faith."

She gave him a smile, a hesitant, nervous one, but a smile nonetheless, as she turned onto her side and reached over to switch the light off beside her bed. "Night," she said into a yawn.

"You don't mind if I leave my light on for the time being, so I can finish making some notes, Faith?" he murmured, raising his eyes from the page to the girl in the bed opposite him, an indulgent smile coming to his lips.

She was already asleep, exhausted.

Her left arm was hooked up, under the pillow, which her head was resting on. Her dark hair spread around her, making her thin, pale face look even frailer by the sick yellow light of the lamp behind him.

It hurt to see a young one as emotionally fractured as this girl was. He knew that, without question, he would protect her from the world, from anything that would dare to try and hurt her again.

No one deserved it, especially not a girl as unique as this one.

Placing his book down, Severus reached across the gap between the beds, brushing tangled strands of hair back from the girl's face. "Get some rest," he said softly. "We have a lot to talk about in the morning."

***

The first thing that Severus was aware of the next morning was waking to the sound of rushing water. Squinting in the morning light as he opened his eyes, he tried to remember exactly where he was and what was going in.

Unsurprisingly, as he often did, he had fallen asleep over his books, seated with his back against the headboard of the bed. He had a lot of work with him, so he wasn't too far behind, when he returned to Hogwarts.

Bringing up his left hand to rub his face, his neck cricked as he tilted his to one side, then the other. His eyes drifted to the other bed in the room, where his charge had fallen asleep the night before.

It was empty.

Jerking upright immediately, he was almost on his feet when he heard a click from the en suite bathroom door and looked up to see Faith walking back into the bedroom area, towelling her long hair dry.

"Faith," he sighed, sinking back down in relief.

"Hey, Sev," she shook her hair back. She was wearing a pair of black trousers and a loose, grey T-shirt, which she had clearly taken from the small bag of clothing he had left at the end of her bed. "Oh..." she looked down at herself. "I...you don't mind, do you? I just figured..."

"I brought them for you," he answered, wishing that he had remembered to change back out of his robes. Yes, they were comfortable to wear, but - damn it - they were bloody awkward to sleep in.

He was amazed he hadn't strangled himself in the night.

"You...you brought all that stuff for me?"

Irritably fighting a losing battle with the buttons of his collar, he arched an eyebrow at her. "You are surprised?"

"Well...yeah," she answered, with a helpless shrug, her eyes on the large satchel of clothing. She honestly looked completely stunned. "No one ever did anything like this for me. I always had to do everything for myself," She gave him a lop-sided grin, a strange emotion in her eyes. "And now, I have my own Santa Sev."

He snorted at the analogy, but still, he was beginning to understand just why Faith was the person she was. Growing up to be a Slayer was trial enough for a normal girl, but when that normal girl was forced to be a tough, independent individual before the age of eighteen...

Sitting back down on her bed, she brought the damp towel down to her lap, her hair hanging in strings around her face. A pensive look crossed her face as he sat up fully, finally succeeding in unfastening his collar and slipping his outer robes off.

"Sev?" she finally asked, as he massaged his throat.

"Severus," he corrected.

"Right, Sev, what am I gonna do now?" She looked up at him, worry and unease etched in her features. "You said you were gonna help me, when you visited. You didn't tell me how and now, you got me all busted outta jail and I don't know what I'm meant to do."

Snape looked at her. "You have two choices, Faith," he answered. "One of them is that you can return to your prison and wait for the next assassin to come along and try and kill you, or you can take my offer."

The tiniest clenching of her jaw and narrowing of her eyes did not go unnoticed by the astute Potions Professor. "And what's the offer?" she asked, sounding casual and glib, but for the tremor in her voice.

"Protection, shelter and help."

"Huh?"

"Faith, I won't lie to you. I know you were a murderess," She physically flinched at his words, looking away, her face contorted in self-loathing, and he had to force himself to continue. "When I was around the same age as you are now, I was part of a group who were, among other things, murderers. I was one of them."

"Y-you?"

His lips lifted in a bitter smile. "I did inform you that I had been where you are now, didn't I?" he said quietly. "Dumbledore was my salvation. I wanted to escape from the darkness that was devouring me," Faith nodded in understanding. "Dumbledore was the only one to offer me a lifeline. He pulled me out of the dark, helped me to find my feet again and protected me."

"And now, you wanna do the same for me?"

"It is a large part of the reason," he admitted. "Even though he is gone, I still feel that I could never repay all that I owe him. I believe that he would approve of me aiding you, doing for you what he did for me. I have a duty to you."

"Wish I coulda met the guy."

Severus smiled sadly. "You would have liked him," he said quietly. "Once you reached passed that infernal sense of humour of his, he and you would have got on very well indeed."

There was a long silence, as he looked down at his folded hands and she looked down at hers, which were twisting the towel.

"Where would I go?"

Black eyes met brown. "You would remain with me and I would stand as your protector or guardian or whatever term you feel comfortable with, if you don't mind my company."

"That doesn't answer where we would be," she said and he chuckled.

"Very clever, Faith," he said, tapping his fingertips together. "You recall that I am a teacher at a wizarding school?" She nodded. "I have spoken with the Head Mistress and she and I both believe you could be of aid there."

"In a magic school?" she asked, sceptically. "Small problem. No magic. Plus not exactly good with dealing with a school. Kinda dropped out when I was sixteen."

"There are many other elements of the school aside from the magic and education, Faith," Severus murmured, watching the tips of his fingers whiten as he pressed them together. "Grounds keeping, self-defence training, assisting the staff, manual work, general counselling of pupils. There are many things you could do and I am certain that you are not going back to that damn box they call a prison."

"So, in other words, my choices are going with you or going with you by force?"

Black eyes flicked to her, glittering. "Ah, you have already learned to understand my codes of implication."

"Well," she gave him a lop-sided grin. "I guess that means I'm coming with you. Its a helluva lot easier than living as a fugitive."

"Did I mention you will be living in a castle?"

"Wicked cool!"