A Rose By Any Other Name-Part 1

Crawling through the Floo, he let his face rest on the cold stone floor. His body shook uncontrollably. The pain coursing through his body was immeasurable, again. Muggle doctors would ask their patients "On a scale from one to ten how would you rate your level of pain, one the least and ten the worst." His pain ranged somewhere around one hundred and fifty right now. His quarters were cool and a little humid; it did not aid his breathing much. He had been stabbed deeply with a dagger in the thigh, and it was left there to remind him of his folly that night.

He let himself shudder on the floor, grasping desperately at his chest. He did not hear the whoosh of the Floo but he did feel the cool hand on his face. It took a matter of a second before the person that assaulted his personal space found herself hurled against a bookcase with significant force.

He tried to focus on the figure slumped against his books, but his eyes were not working with his brain at the moment.

"Who are you?" he managed to get out. But no answer came, he watched as the figure slowly stood. Slowly the feminine figure moved toward him, with no response to his question. She was humming a soft tune that he did not recognize. His defenses kicked in again, and with what little strength he had left he hurled his next hex her way. She simply sidestepped it and kept moving forward slowly. Her hands were out, she was apparently trying to appease by showing she did not have a wand. "Crucio!" he cried out and he watched her crumple again before his world descended into darkness.

When he awoke, he was clean. A fresh scent of roses filled the air around him. He reached for his wand, only to find it not there. Panic filled him as he cracked open his eyes and looked about the room. It was his room. He was dressed in his nightshirt; his body was clean and well rested. He did not have the shivers and shakes anymore, and his wounds, including the deep thigh wound were healed. He tried to remember the night before, but could not discern if it was dream or reality. His wand was not where he normally left it. That much was wrong.

He sensed about the room, he was indeed alone. Sitting up slowly, he found a steaming cup of hot, strong coffee sitting next to him on the nightstand. His wand lie upon his dresser, next to a vase filled with yellow and white roses. Suddenly last night was a terrible reality. Someone had broken into his room. Someone had bathed him and tended his wounds; someone had left those things here.

The meaning of the flowers was not lost on him. Yellow roses for friendship, or new avenues opened. White roses for this person, whomever she was, felt she was worthy of him.

"Bah!" He snarled as he shot up out of the bed and grasped the vase tightly. Throwing it hard into the wall, the flowers, water and glass littered the floor below it. A quick Reparo and the vase was in one piece to throw in the trash, but his vengeance on the flowers was not done yet. Gathering them he threw them into the fireplace angrily. Someone had invaded his personal space! Someone had seen him in his Death Eater garb, and someone had helped where they were not wanted!

He turned to his wardrobe to find all of his clothes for the day neatly cleaned, pressed and ready for his use. Again, he was angry, but he had no time to act on it if he wished to have breakfast before classes started. He would have words with Albus about this immediately.

--

That old man is up to something, again! Severus was thinking to himself as he stormed from the Headmaster's office. He didn't even acknowledge that this might be a very pertinent threat! If someone had broken the wards to his room, or broken into the Floo Network of the school it could be absolutely detrimental. But no, the twinkle-eyed bastard gave it not a second thought. That means he knew who it was and gave them access! Damn him!

The next summons was harder than the last. The potion had not reacted the way it had on human test subjects, and Severus found himself begging for the Dark Lord's forgiveness. His forgiveness came in the form of three slicing hexes and a Cruciatus that would make Lucius Malfoy cry for his mother. He had barely managed to Apparate back to the gates of Hogwarts before losing consciousness.

He awoke in a steaming bath; again the scent of roses filled the air. Sandalwood drifted to his nose from the water. But the world was again, very blurry. He thought that odd, the Cruciatus had never before affected his vision so badly. But the blood loss from the slicing hexes may have, so he waited patiently letting the steaming water warm his blood drained body. His head was swimming and he was having trouble holding his head up. The humming, he heard the humming again. Damnit! That woman was in his quarters again! The thought of being angry alone seemed to be too much, draining what little energy he had. He let himself close his eyes, and darkness washed over him once again.

He awoke, it must have been sometime in the night. His brow was sweating, he had been dreaming again. That soft humming was heard. A soft hand touched his brow, cool to the touch it was. The scent of roses filled his senses once again.

"Go to sleep, Severus," was all the whisper said to him.

"Get out," he hissed angrily.

"Go to sleep, I will leave," the feminine whisper came again. Without a wand nearby, he did not want to sleep without his chambers being empty. He had changed the damned wards, and warded the Floo, yet she still got in. She still knew he was injured! The old man had to be in on this! The humming droned away, the feminine figure in the darkness walked from the room. He saw the green light of the Floo as she left. He called to his wand, warded the bedroom door and let himself rest once again.

He awoke in the morning. On the dresser, in the same place as last time was another vase of flowers. This "Rose" person was leaving him hints. Oh he hated the fact this woman dared the audacity to presume her presence was wanted! This time she left Zinnias, Yarrow and Wisteria flowers. Zinnias, signs of thoughts from your friends. Yarrow, wishing good health, and Wisteria to wish steadfastness or vigilance. Again the flowers found their way to the fireplace.

This time the woman had done more than last! She had graded all of his papers, exactly to what his specifications would have been! She had cleaned his apartments! She had finished the potion he had simmering and bottled it! The writing was his on all the papers, so she was an expert in forgery as well as a burglar! Again he was so angry he could have killed someone. And again, he was at a complete loss whom this woman could be. And again, he would have a fit on the Twinkle Eyed Headmaster about it!

--

That bastard knows, but he isn't telling! Damn that insufferable know it all Headmaster to the Ninth Plane of Hell right into the arms of Asmodai himself! He was in a rage. Lemon drop indeed!

He let out his rage on the students. Gryffindor of course would pay the most, but even Slytherin lost ten points that day to his temper.

--

A/N: I do not own anything Harry Potter-esque. I enjoy writing the fanfic for all to enjoy to the merry cost of absolutely zip.

Asmodai- Also known as Asmodan, Tasmodan, Tasmodai, Tazmodius... the Arch Devil of all nine planes of Hell.