绯之徘徊

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Tempora Mutantur, Nos et Mutamur in Illis

Chapter 10 Full Disclosure

Snape received a message from a certain patient requiring a long-due home visit. Nymphadora was in her convalescence, so she followed his advice: No Apparate nor unnecessary morph. She barely walked out of her villa.

She sat on the wool carpet before the fireplace in the living room when Snape arrived at 20:30, who was pleased to find Nymphadora instead of Ms. Pond.

He took an armchair across from her and noticed how small and fragile she was in her real shape. With those permanent scars, she seemed like a ragged doll, innocent, yet broken beyond repair. No known magic could heal damages caused by dark creatures. He drowns in sorrow while burnt with rage simultaneously.

"So, full disclosure, are we?" He brought it up without small talks. Half a month had passed, together with his patience.

"May I offer you a drink first? I know you prefer Absolut Vodka."

"I prefer to stay sober during our conversation." Although he was touched that she had noticed and remembered his preference, which he never told her in person.

"No alcohol, then, tea? Coffee? Cocoa?" she offered.

"Nymphadora-" He warned her in his best threatening tone.

"Don't blame me for trying, Severus. Should have tried in a Veela form though, silly me." She retorted in a drawling voice. There was no trace of hoarseness in it, so she must have changed her instrument.

"Since you mentioned, why don't we start with your scars?"

"If they bother you so much, I can morph them away. Tiny changes, no burden at all." She said casually, with eyes fixed on her bare feet.

"Look at me."

"No, thank you. Never make eye contacts when an accomplished Legilimens wants something from you."

"Let's settle this once and for all because I do not enjoy repeating myself. I never cared what shape you chose, and I never will. Choose whatever you see fit, just not on my behalf. Is that clear now? "

"Noted, sir." Nymphadora looked up to meet his black eyes. Her mischievous tone and the choice of words reminded Snape of her Hogwarts days in his Potions classroom. Somethings would never vanish. They just hid deep down, waiting to be found again.

"Still waiting for the answer." He prompted.

"Werewolf mauled, obviously." Noticing the scowl on his face, Nymphadora added, "See for yourself. I'll summon the relevant memories to the surface, but don't dig deep or-"

" -one may not like the findings." They said it in unison and smiled at each other with warmth in the eyes.

"I recall that you just acknowledged me as an established Legilimens?" He arched an eyebrow as a challenge.

"Accomplished, to be accurate." She mocked him to cover her uneasiness, yet failed.

Snape knew what it felt like to relive the worst memories and how agonized it would be. As much as he appropriated that Nymphadora was willing to share her deepest fear, he didn't fancy the idea of her suffering.

"You don't have to. I'll believe what you say." He held his gaze into her dark brown eyes.

Suddenly, emotions flowed over her eyes. Sadness, fear, fury, insanity, agony, all the negative ones together, turned her eyes into an abyss, drawing Snape down. She shut her eyes and said weakly, "I can't, or it will become too real for me to bear."

"Would you mind if I have a drink before we start?" she asked apologetically.

"Take your time. My evening schedule is fully open."

Nymphadora raised to her feet and left. She returned with a glass of Baileys in her hand before long.

Perched on the armrest of his chair, she drank from the glass sip by sip in silence. Finally, as if she had summoned all the courage required, she drained the glass in one shot.

"May I hold you when you do it?" Her voice quivered, barely audible.

The question irritated Snape beyond ˈmeasure. Why she had to act so polite now, like they were just acquaintances and all those midnight visits had never happened?

"Technically, you and Nymphadora are mere acquaintances. You have slept with Bellatrix, Narcissa, Hermione, and other nameless women, not HER. You two are not intimate, no physical contact at all." 

"She invited me to perform a Legilimency on her of her own accord. That is a higher level of intimacy."

"Yet she had to ask for permission before she hugs you. A twisted pair."

Without warning, Snape reached out, grabbed her by the waist, and pulled her into his arm.

She gasped at the sudden, then laid her head against his neck.

"No need to ask." He breathed to her ear. He didn't realize precisely how skinny she was until he held her tight. All magic came at a price. The persistent morph was draining her. He could feel her tension at first, and was pleased to see her at ease now.

"Thank you, Severus. I think I am ready."

He drew his wand out. Before casting the spell, he gingerly traced the scar on her throat with the empty hand. She was shaking with fear at his touch. Lacing her icy-cold fingers, Snape calmed her, "They are just memories from the past. They can't harm you unless you let them. I'll be as gentle as possible. I promise."

She nodded against his chest.

Legilimens!

As a trained Auror, she was familiar with editing memory for presentation. For some reason, she had muted them.

The scenes Snape saw were organized and chronological, but nonetheless confusing.

It was a full moon. A werewolf was chasing Nymphadora in the woods. 

Nymphadora drew out her wand aiming to attack. A bigger werewolf-Snape recognized it as Lupin-jumped out and snatched her wand, and the impact of the blow knocked her off balance.

Nymphadora fell to the ground, and the first werewolf jumped on her, mauled her with sharp claws, sending blood everywhere. 

A silver light covered Nymphadora, and she disappeared.

Andromeda was attending her dying daughter.

The show's over.

"It doesn't make sense. I am under the impression that werewolf mates for life and will protect the chosen mate at all costs after the bonding ritual. You married him."

"Werewolf expert, are we? Pity, you jumped to the wrong conclusion that marriage equals bonding ritual. I was the cost, not the mate."

No words in the world could describe the bitterness in her voice, and comforting was not Snape's strong suit. He just held her tighter.

Nymphadora pulled away, retreated to the carpet, and wrapped her arms around herself. "I guess it's all my fault. I had it coming."

"Forgive me for not seeing so. Do enlighten me!" He just could not hold his tongue. The werewolf married her, yet he intended to murder her. Yes! In his opinion, disarming her in a werewolf attack equals committing the murder himself! How could she really think it was her fault!

"How much do you know about Metamorphmagus?"

"Not much, except for the bits you shared. Why?"

"Similar to werewolf, Metamorphmagus is not human. We shouldn't pretend to be one. You're WHO you are. We're WHAT we are."

"We are who we are. He is what he is!" Snape corrected her automatically. He couldn't tolerate that she still thought her and Lupin as "we".

Instead of entangling with the pronoun, Nymphadora continued, "I was relatively young back then and tried so hard to fit in, pretending I was a normal witch with special gifts. While Remus was struggling to stay with his human side, denying the inside wolf. I felt close to him."

"He was not Young. " Snape spat.

"To be fair, he did tell me a million times that-"

"Oh yeah? It didn't stop him from marrying you, did it? " Snape interrupted her irritably. Couldn't she just stop defending Lupin?

"Like I just said, Remus was also struggling at that time," she signed deeply and lost in thought for a while, "I lost him long before our wedding, when the headmaster sent him to the pack. Running with his kind made him finally realize werewolf is not human. They are different in a broad spectrum. The truth shook him to the core. You know, he spent more years pretending than I did, and he couldn't just give it all up. It's so hard for him, especially when he met Milla, his mate. He felt ambivalent, I guess."

So, he married you and used the marriage as his anchor in the wizardry society. How typical! A hypocrite indeed!

"I found out Milla eventually. I really shouldn't have. Being a Metamorphmagus sometimes is a curse. Have you ever wondered why I can wear a shape that people desire the most? Because I can visualize it in their eyes on occasions, orgasm included." The last two words squeezed out through gritted teeth.

The truth was out there.

"One shall never start looking as one may not like the findings."

That's how she found out Lupin's mate. Oh, the trauma, deep to the bone.

That's why she never looked into my eyes during intercourses. 

That's the reason she transformed into Lily. But she was WRONG!

Nymphadora was crying with her head hidden in her arms. This was the first time Snape saw her letting all her defense down, vulnerable as a child.

He bridged the gap between them and bent down to stroke her hair. He had witnessed countless emotional breakdowns in his office, yet still felt awkward comforting people.

Should I hold her? Or, should I just leave and give her some privacy?

"Emotional breakdown is not good for a convalescent patient. Let's call it a night. Anything I can do for you before I go?" He forced these words out, patting her thin back gently.

Without looking up, she stretched forth a bony hand and grabbed his suit, "Stay."

This time, Nymphadora didn't ask.


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