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One, two, three, four - four ounces of Moondew, the herbal green fluid joining its brethren of finely pulverized Unicorn Horn, Syrup of Hellebore, and Stewed Mandrake. The greenish blue substance simmers in the cauldron. Severus couldn't be more focused if he tried, his careful hand stirs its contents while slowly adding in 12 ounces of Honeywater. It beginning to shift to a much warmer shade of amber. The sweat beads by his brow and the steam emanating makes his skin feel false, like wax paper, disgusting.
There are an abysmal amount of ways to screw up an elixir, and he'll be damned if any of the infinite creep up on him today. When he woke up this morning he'd been excited-an immensely rare sight for the student-to work on his potion of anti-paralysis. Something about it all intrigued him, and he knew he'd wanna pocket some bottles for safe keeping.
Professor Slughorn had begun giving him heads up on what his class had in store, often lending extra books and indulging in the boy's curiosity.
"You could be a great Potions master one day you know." And Severus had known, being one of the only people to carry around tiny bottles of his own creation was somewhat of an ego booster. All the more fun in Herbology and all the more easy to take care of himself.
Maybe just 4 this time.
Other students in the room seem bored, not meeting much a reason to be brewing such a potion in the first place. It must be nice to walk in for the grade alone; Severus finishes pouring his honey-like antidote and runs his fingers through his hair. Everything always feels so sticky around cauldrons, his wrists hurt.
"Okay everyone, clean up for today." Slughorn's voice flits past Severus' ears, crackly and friendly as ever. "Keep this recipe in your repertoire.. Never know when Petrificus Totalus may sneak up on you."
What an understatement. Severus wouldn't be leaving Slytherin Dungeon on Sunday unless absolutely necessary, He wrings his hands and envisions a peaceful evening ahead of him, Saturdays bringing a sense of calm. It's just a trek back to his room and he can finally fall to his pillow and take a nap.
"Hey Sev." Lily's velvet voice acts as an invisible wall he walks into. Her eyes meet his as he takes a second to really catch up in his mind, and Lily's hands fall on his shoulders like knocking over old books. She just barely exceeds him in height, her freckles highlighted by the scattered warmth in her cheeks. "You look exhausted! Did you sleep at all?"
"I slept." He answers, voice croaking like he hadn't been awake the past hour. "Not enough though. I've been planning a long nap all day."
The arms of a warm floral cinnamon hold him tight and it's oh–so familiar. Everytime Lily hugs him, Severus doesn't quite know what to do. Does he hold her back? Would it be embarrassing for her if his hands grazed her hair and does she ever stop to think that it may ruin her reputation to be seen with whatever he is—so close to her lungs and– Why can't he just live in the moment? She always sees right through him in a way that no one else does. Perhaps it's because they've known each other for so long.. Perhaps he's just not the best at hiding his shadow. It's so easy to know a terrible person when Heaven on Earth stands directly next to you.
"I've been having some nightmares. Not too many, but some." His shoulders stay tense. There's never enough time with her, even if he were capable of simply standing here with more confidence he'd still have that voice in the back of his head screaming into the canal that connects his ear and up to his eyes and through every vein that reaches his brain. Spilling acid of it's disgusting to be seen and you ruin everything you touch. It's a shame really, his work in class shows otherwise. Good wizard, bad person. Nothing can change that.
She squeezes him ever so slightly, her fingers going to pet his hair before she brings him back to an arms length apart. There's a face of worry; he hates when she looks at him like that.
"I'm sorry." It's not fair, sleeping is supposed to be a time to rest. The one time when nothing else matters except just laying there unmoving, and trying not to go crazy when the loneliness veers its ugly claws. "Mind if i ask what about?"
Severus shakes his head. It's not like he has to hide this sort of stuff from her.
"It's just mum. She's much busier now, I never know when I'll see her. If it's for one month or one minute." Chest rising and falling, he doesn't expect to feel his throat tighten. He only cries when he's tired. "Sorry I need to go."
"Naptime?"
Please take care of yourself.
He nods and whispers a quiet "see you later" before quickly finding his way around the Hogwarts corridors. It always feels empty when he runs away from her, and whenever she says goodbye. He's always hoping for something better to come up, but he knows it's not logical to think that way. To wish and wish for anything to become perfect, for his life to grow into something he's not and will never be, for things to be different.
Reaching the common room, Severus doesn't say a word to anyone. He heads straight past leather sofas and flickering lamps, through the diamond-shaped door. He lands in the carpet of his room and the way his body hits his mattress feels like a rolling pin grading on his bones 10 times over. He'd exerted himself today, and it hadn't even been a full day's worth of classes.
Counting to 112, his hands grip the 2 layers of blanket he's buried himself in and the world around fades to a depressing gray, warm but far from inviting. Sometimes he wishes for a cat to accompany him with soft paws and a gentle purr.
Other times he just wants to stay asleep 'til Christmas comes.
______
Waves and waves of saltwater fight to pull him under, stinging his eyes and blocking his breath but he can't let them win. It's not a choice, but a responsibility, his long sleeves make it exceedingly hard to move and when he reaches this small puppy in front of him he's counting to 100 hoping they'll reach the shoreline before his lungs and limbs give out. She's shaking, and all he can do is wonder where his mother is.
Eileen had been in the water too, the fury of nature's pool hoisting uncertainty in every direction. Severus looks around, running past several people he can't recognize and it's starting to frighten him. Where'd she go? Is the beating heart he's carrying in his arms meant to be here? It's all a haze, a dreary haze.
They're all suddenly together, Severus ripping the paper wrapper off his straw and their waitress brings in a rack of many books. Eileen doesn't seem to even see Severus, she chatters and laughs but doesn't quite look at him, his brain hammers and drills and he just wants her to say 'I've missed you.'
You don't want to be here do you?
It hurts, hurts more than the water pulling him under and the times he's fallen down the stairs when wanting to skip out on Church and she still won't look at him. It's only when they're in his room and he runs into her arms that her voice is aimed directly at him, the small form she can barely hold on to.
"Why do you wish to be around me when I've been so wrong?"
Severus can't stop crying.
"I miss you. It doesn't matter what you've done, I still miss you."
This hug feels like he's fallen into their burning fireplace in the dead of Winter. He knows she's slipping away. She's always slipping away.
"I can't.."
His head pounds. The feeling of chills play through his shoulders and up his neck, it's a wonder that he's still submerged in fabric of green and silver. He can feel his eyes straining with remnants of salt when he opens them and it's only a little shocking when a rough palm collides with his forehead.
"You haven't got a fever, at least I don't think.."
Regulus has no sense of personal space.
"I'm not sick," Severus responds in such a way, he doesn't know if it's even audible. "Head.. hurts."
As if he were struck by lightning Regulus flings his entire arm back to then hang by his waist, presumably what he'd be doing if he hadn't gone to check Sev's temp status. His place next to his roommate's bed is awkward, and Severus is too wracked with leftover pain and confusion to care.
"Is it 7 already?"
"Nuh uh. Still 5:30." Regulus checks his wrist as if he remembered to bring his watch to school this term.
"More sleep."
And then Severus is out again, the tension in his forehead fading once he's breathing steadily and Regulus can't help but stare for longer than any normal person would. Disgust rises in himself because he doesn't feel like he should bear witness - he sighs out with thoughts racing. It'd be so easy to tease him for everything, but easy isn't what he's about. It's not like he's out to start wars. Only out to finish them.
Everburning candles lead the way out of the room in their spot on the small coffee table, almost like a glowing sign pointing him out. No one else is in here, though that shouldn't surprise him. Leave it to Severus to be the only Slytherin avoiding everyone else like the plague.
Once he can't justify standing around any longer, Regulus picks up a small book from under his bed and snakes his way back out from whence he came. A grimace forms on his face when the door has the audacity to screech and his head whips back to make sure it hadn't been a disturbance. Pangs of empathy, it's not something he knows yet. But maybe one day it'll make sense. And maybe someday it won't feel weird, weird that he stared with not much reason.
He's gotta write this all down.