(A/N: It's September 28th, and that means that it's my fête (or birthday for the non-French speaking audience). This short little fic was my present to myself, and I'd really appreciate any feedback on it – you can make it my present. :)
by Elfish Arrow
I am always awed by how much Severus trusts me. After all I've put him through in the name of the Light, after all the burdens I've placed upon him, he has always returned to me. It shames me that I had used his loyalty and love for a purpose that never should have been; he had gone gladly into Riddle's arms simply at my request. He did the same years later, when I could ask no other, and so it is I who am to blame.
He blames himself. I see it in his eyes during our nights together, in the way he avoids my gaze when Riddle is spoken of; he believes he has failed me. If only he understood! He could never fail me, not when it is I who failed him. I should have kept him at my side, protected him from Riddle, himself, and even myself. I should have, but I didn't. I let him - made him - go back, and it was not a year before I begged his forgiveness and asked him to stay. I knew it was hopeless to ask that of him so late; his memory exceeds mine, and he easily recalled the arguments I made the night I sent him back. I had to concede.
Too late, I realized he would not - could not - return. Riddle was cleverer than most credited him. He knew my weakness, and now he held that weakness in his hand and taunted me from afar. I could not leave Severus in his grasp. I went for him, and was nearly too late. Were it not for Riddle's grotesque affixation with pain and blood, I might have lost him. Such a strange fate that his weakness should save mine.
I do not believe that Riddle was aware of my power. Indeed, he feared me, but the creature had never conceived the idea that I might have dabbled in the Dark Arts as well - know thy enemy. The blade was embedded in Severus's pale throat when I arrived. Though cloaked in shimmering red, his eyes betrayed no fear, which frightened me more than Riddle's deed. Instead, his eyes held acceptance, duty, and when he turned them on me, love. The sight fueled my anger, and anger leant to power until Riddle was little more than dust on the wind. His followers fled; I rushed to Severus's side. I breathed a sigh of relief. Too shallow, too short. I Apparated us back to the relative safety of the forest, and with aid from the mediwitch, secured Severus's life.
That night, the sky was clear, holding no foreshadow of events to come. This night is the same, though I do not fear it. Severus is beside me, and I know no ill will dare touch him again. The grass is cool on my back, and I am comforted by the contrasting warmth of my love against my chest. His breathing is deep and regular and I pass my hand through his hair, down his neck and bare back. He stirs slightly, kisses my other hand, which he has clasped in his sleep, and drifts off again.
Severus doesn't speak anymore. That was stolen from him the night Riddle fell - has it been two years? He has been researching telepathy potions. In vain, says Minerva, but I have deep faith in him. If any one can do it, Severus can. He will not allow me to help with this. We won the previous battle by my wand, and must win this by his.
He wakes again, and sits up. I follow suit and wrap my arms around him from behind. I rest my chin on his shoulder as he leans against me. He squeezes my hand and I smile against his skin, if words were necessary, I'd tell him that I love him. They are not; however, and I feel him sigh softly as I place a kiss on the sensitive juncture where shoulder meets neck. It's then that I realize that if his research and toil pay off, it will change very little between us. I love him in sound and in silence as well.
~ fin.