Chapter Text
“Can you do it right here?” James asked, squinting his eyes from the sun and gesturing towards the stretch of sand before them. Wind brushed hair back from his face. He shifted his weight, leaning to the right as he observed the surrounding area. It wasn’t far from the beach house, just a tad more east than most people dared to venture and usually deserted, that’s why Charity found it completely unbelievable that the two men could manage to stand directly in her sunlight. Minutes were all she had left; mere minutes before the sun would set and yet here they were standing directly in front of her.
Despite her annoyance, she did not say anything; preferring instead to watch the world-shattering occurrence of a civil conversation between Bruce Mulciber and James Potter. She lowered her book only a fraction, peering slyly over the top at Bruce surveying the area. He was panting like a dog, seeming to have just come from a run. Sweat clung to the barely noticeable hair on his chest, running down his stomach in tiny rivulets. He’d tucked his shirt into the side of pants and his hand rested atop it, right at his hip.
Beside him, Potter waited patiently for Bruce to catch his breath. “Just a few pillars in a wide square? That’s no problem. Have you considered lighting? Do you have fairy lights?”
“I had them… on the boat before we, you know. I guess fire will have to do. It’s more romantic that way anyway.” James shrugged.
Bruce wiped at the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand, rubbing it off on his shorts a moment afterwards. “I could build a little section into the top or uppermost part of the pillar to hold a small flame, we could do the same around the perimeter. It’ll give the place a nice glow once the sun’s officially gone down.” He peered out at the slowly setting sun and the way its golden rays rippled over top the waves.
“Yeah…” started James, reluctant. He frowned, as he tilted his chin upwards, as if trying to imagine the structure. He began to fidget, his hand slipping in and out of his pocket every few seconds. A small bulge there caught Charity’s eye. “Who’s going to climb up there and light them?” James asked.
“Not necessary. I’ll have Evan light them.” Bruce answered. James hummed, and began scratching at his chest. He burped and a flock of birds soaring by dragged his attention away.
Brain of a fish, that one.
Charity flipped the page in the book she wasn’t reading and crossed one leg over the other. Bruce spoke again, “Do you want a platform or for me to smooth all of this out into an even floor? I bet you’ll have an audience whether you want one or not.”
James' attention returned to Bruce. “That’d be great.” He said with a polite grin that didn’t quite meet his eyes. Bruce nodded, and offered his hand out to James to shake. The auror flinched away. His eyes widened ever so slightly and he grit his teeth but when the hit he anticipated never landed, he relaxed a fraction and grasped Bruce’s hand giving it a firm shake. “It’ll only take a few minutes right? Just give me a chance to get dressed and I’ll be back out.” He said, his voice a hair different than it was before. Was that a touch of embarrassment or perhaps shame? Charity had never heard James sound like that before. She didn’t think him capable of such emotions.
Bruce nodded again and James took one more look around, seeming to only notice Charity then.
Some auror he was.
“Oh, hey Burbage.” He greeted before he was strolling back up the beach towards the house. Bruce moved to follow him and Charity called after him before he could get far.
“Come here, Bruce.” She ordered dropping the book into her lap and plucking her sunglasses from atop her head. She smoothed back the strands and pushed the glasses back where they belonged. Bruce stood before her, his wide frame casting her in shadow much to her annoyance. “Step to the left.” She ordered and leaned back against her chair as golden rays of light returned to warm her skin. “What the hell are you doing with Potter?” she asked, more amused than anything.
Bruce scoffed. “Like I haven’t seen you skipping around this place with Pettigrew.”
Charity rolled her eyes. “If you want to make friends with Potter, I don’t care-”
A bark of laughter startled out of Bruce, appalled at the mere insinuation. She’d seen the way Potter flinched away from him, it only further confirmed what she already suspected: Bruce had been the one to give James that shiner earlier. It had to be one of them and Wilhelm would never miss the opportunity to gloat, Edmund preferred spells of a different sort, so that just left Bruce. She wouldn’t be surprised. “What’s this deal you’ve got? What’s he planning?”
Bruce yawned, pulling his arms up above his head. More sweat dribbled down his chest and Charity looked away, frankly disgusted. .
“Potter’s proposing to Evans.” He said.
Charity gasped. “And you’re helping him?” She narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
“Lovely weather we’re having-” Bruce tried.
“Cut the crap. I doubt he’s blackmailing you. I doubt he’s the resources to pull that off. So what are you getting out of this?”
“Nothing.” Bruce sniffed, pulling his shirt free from his waistband and wiping at his face with it. A second later he draped it over his shoulder, ignoring Charity’s disgusted expression.
She pulled her legs up, angling her body away from Bruce like the mere possibility of Bruce’s sweat touching her made her physically ill. “You’ve never done a single thing in your life out of the kindness of your heart.”
“Oh please,”
“Am I wrong? You haven’t a noble bone in your body. Why are you doing this? You’re the one that left that handprint on Potter’s face aren’t you?”
Bruce lifted his head in surprise. His features remained even unaffected but for a moment she could see that he hadn’t expected that revelation. “I did.” He admitted. His shoulders shrugged lightly. His gaze gravitated to the nails of his right hand. He was completely unaffected.
“Why?” she asked.
Bruce ran his tongue over his teeth, he pursed his lips, his nose wrinkling like he’d smelled something foul. “He hit Severus.” He said matter of factly.
“So you were just doling out justice.”
Bruce shrugged again. “Of sorts.”
“Yet here you are helping Potter propose to Evans. Why save Severus when this will kill him? It will kill him by the way. ”
“It’s inevitable. We all knew it was coming.” Bruce said.
Charity crossed one leg over the other. “So you’re just ripping the bandaid off?”
“What’s that?”
Charity sighed and said softly, “Get out of my sight. Go check on Severus, we put him in your and Evan’s room.”
“Put him?” asked, frowning.
“He was complaining about a headache so Mary gave him some of her pain medicine. After an hour we realized that he hadn’t moved, said a word, or even blinked, so we decided to move him to some place where he would be a bit safer.”
“What!”
Charity shrugged. “He’s fine. He’s breathing.” She paused, narrowing her eyes. “He should be.”
“How long ago was this?”
“Right after breakfast? Six-ish hours, seven maybe.” She estimated.
Bruce’s eyes bulged from his head, his mouth hanging comically agape. He snarled at Charity as he lifted his leg as high as his joints would allow, slamming his foot into the earth with enough force to break the bone.
Quicker than her eyes could follow, a slanted slab of stone shot out of the ground and catapulted Bruce into the air, sending him careening towards the beach house. Bruce clenched his stomach, letting his arms and legs flare out as the sharp winds cut at his cheeks. His stomach filled with butterflies and just when he began to peak over the house, gravity beginning to claw at his ankles, he cast. “Featherlight!” The spell didn’t take and the ground, rather the roof of the beach house, rushed at him quicker than he liked. He slammed his fist against his chest, dragging it in a circle. “Wisch taire maxima!” He bit out quickly and almost immediately the wind caught on his body like a feather, flinging him up further into the clouds. Almost immediately, the heft bled out of his body and he continued to climb the rungs of the atmosphere. His shirt fluttered by, out of his grasp, swishing down towards the beach. He ignored it, focusing instead on squeezing his arms around himself, pressing his legs together. He aimed his body like a missile towards the ledge above Evan’s window and chanted slowly “heft, heft, heft.” As his density returned, he was delivered down onto the shingles of the roof without much as a thud.
Laughing to himself, Bruce knelt down and peered over the edge into Evan’s bedroom where the window was already open. He calmed himself, sucking in a lungful of air before rolling his body over itself, launching himself into the bedroom. He stumbled on the rug beside the bed but found his footing quickly. A small, silent celebration followed his gymnastics, but he sobered quickly and headed over to the lump in Evan’s mattress that could only be Severus.
Bruce pulled the covers back from the sleeping form and began to extract him from the bed without further provocation. He wrapped his arms around Severus’ middle and pulled him to his feet, ignoring the loud rumblings of Severus’ snores. By hell or high water, Severus was going to wake up; Bruce had already made his mind up; he wasn’t giving Severus the option.
Bruce maneuvered one of Severus’ arms over his shoulder, his sleep warmed body fell limply against Bruce causing Bruce to laugh softly to himself. Severus’ head lolled back, his mouth opened on a rattling snore and Bruce could see clear up his big nose. Laughter rumbled between his ribs. He pulled him closer, cradling Severus' head before lying it on his shoulder. When he was certain it would remain there, he fished around for Severus’ hand, intertwining their fingers and leading the sleepy man around in the beginning of a little waltz. His feet glided over the cold wood, the breeze from the open window chilling the sweat along his back as Severus’s presence warmed him from the inside out. He had missed this man so dearly.
He hummed. “Bum… buh-dum… buh-dum…” Severus' hair tickled his nose and lips, soft breaths puffed against his neck and perhaps Bruce let himself get carried away; swaying just too much, dipping Severus as the music crescendoed in his mind. Still, he hadn’t missed when Severus’ snores stopped abruptly, his body tensing ever so slightly. When after a second turn, he hadn’t pulled away or, more spitefully, bit him, Bruce let him feign sleep.
Severus’ feet ghosted over the tops of Bruce’s. The unfamiliar sensation of weightlessness sent something fluttering in his stomach. Bruce squeezed his hand lightly, the arm around his waist tightening. The pain in his shoulder eased, Bruce taking on more of his weight. His touch remained gentle, his body soft and giving where Severus was nothing but hard lines. He didn’t know how to reconcile those facts in his mind. He didn’t know how to enjoy the tenderness that seemed to ooze out of Bruce without warning or provocation. Warmth stung at the backs of his eyes and Severus pat Bruce’s side, his own unspoken signal for Bruce to let him down.
The slow twirling stopped and Severus was lowered those last few centimeters to the ground. Bruce pulled his arms away, stoppering back slowly, reluctant to release him. Severus swallowed around the lump in his throat and averted his gaze to the floor. A second later the door swung open.
Evan leaned against the door, his eyes scanning the room, barely sparing Severus and Bruce a glance. “Sorry, I’m just looking for- have you seen…” then he was gone, moving on to the next room in the hall, leaving the curious pair to wonder after him and that palpable anxiousness. Severus’ eyes tracked his movement from Lupin’s bedroom onto Edmund and Wilhelm’s. Bruce pulled his attention away. When Severus met his gaze he was frowning. “If you see him alone, will you keep an eye on him for me?” Beuce asked, his voice low enough it would not carry beyond the threshold of the bedroom.
Footsteps thundered down the stairs and Bruce sighed. Cogs began to turn slowly behind Severus’ eyes. That damned fog hadn’t lifted around his brain and his thoughts shuffled by in a sluggish haze. “Rosier is not a child.” He said but Bruce wasn’t listening.
Distracted, Bruce clapped Severus lightly on the shoulder then moved out the door and down the steps. Severus did not follow. He scrubbed at his face, scratching the skin around his tired eyes. It seemed no matter how much he slept, no matter how much concussion induced rest he got he could not shake the haze shrouding his thoughts. It always returned and every moment he neared something like clarity, his head would split itself down the middle. Pain radiating out through his skull, until he was clenching his teeth hard enough to crack them.
He couldn’t live like this.
Tears prickled at his eyes and he squeezed them shut. He tentatively stepped backward until the back of his legs hit the bed. The springs shifted under his weight. He pulled his knees up, curling into himself as he dropped his face into his hands. There was no stopping the tears so he let them run, warm lines streaking down his cheeks and seeping between his fingers.
He forced himself to breathe through the pain, counting his breaths and listening to the soft creaking of someone coming up the steps. The footfalls quieted just before his door, but Severus could not bring himself to care. He focused on his breathing. One two three four. “It didn’t work?” Mary asked in such softness it took Severus by surprise. It was odd. She had never used it before, not for him at least. Rancor and spite were the emotions reserved for Severus, that sharp, vicious bite that went against her soft features and round cheeks.
“Why are you here?” He grunted. His voice sounded weak even to his own ears. “To drug me again.”
“I didn’t drug you. I handed it to you and you took it.” She dusted her hands against one another, ridding herself of any of the blame. “You’ve been asleep for almost eight hours. If you’ll believe it, I came to make sure you were okay.” Mary stepped into the room and Severus finally lifted his gaze to find her in a white, almost gray dress. The fabric hugged her hips and flowed down to her ankles where a thin gold anklet rested. The sweet scent of honeysuckle neared with her and Severus sniffed, wiping at his cheeks with the back of his hands. Still, the tears would not stop. The pain wasn’t quite so bad in the moment but white hot frustration burned deep inside of him.
“I was better off asleep.” He said, honestly.
Mary frowned, “I don’t doubt that.” She stepped closer, hesitantly reaching her hand out to him. Severus flinched away and she lowered her hand before it could touch him. “Have you seen a doctor about this? Mediwizards don’t take matters of the mind seriously. Have you tried talking to a specialist or even a psychiatrist?” She asked.
“No.” He said bluntly.
“Muggle medicine is just as good as-“
“I know.” He snapped. “I am aware.” He lowered his voice, the anger fleeing him as quickly as it appeared. Shame bubbled in his chest at his outburst and he averted his eyes. “It only started when I got here.” He confessed.
“Then go home Snape.” She exclaimed with a huff, tossing her hands up in frustration before they dropped back to rest on her hips. “Isn’t that the obvious solution? Make your rounds, say goodbyes and go.”
“Shall I walk back?” He asked bitterly, still rubbing at his temples.
Mary rolled her eyes. “Pandora has more portkeys than is probably legal. Go ask her for one.” She turned to leave, muttering to herself. Severus looked up to watch her go but she stopped just before the threshold and turned. “And when you get to wherever home is, go see a doctor, Snape, an actual doctor.”
Mary fled the room and, not sparing another second, Severus rose from bed and headed out into the hall. He turned for the stairs, intent on seeking Pandora out in her bedroom when the gleam of silver caught his eye.
Slowly, he turned, his eyes latching onto the unhidden mahogany door of the library and its shiny silver knob. It was more likely Pandora would be inside, so he moved towards it with purpose, casting “Alohom-“. He froze, the words catching in his throat before he could complete the spell. “Reve schillaris.” He cast instead and breathed more easily when the door opened and he wasn’t thrown down the stairs or set on fire or some other such rubbish.
He stepped cautiously into the library, his shoulders raised beside his eyes, his entire body tense, waiting for the damned house and its spells to dish out its customary dose of harm. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Evan’s appeared at his side. “Have you seen Aurora?” He asked urgently. Severus didn’t answer immediately and Evan urged again, “Sev, have you seen her?”
“No.” He finally said and without another word, Evan marched past him and out the door. Shadows shifted in his peripheral vision and Severus turned on his heels to find Pandora leaning against the railing of the second story.
“Ignore him.” She said, the edges of her lips already pulled down into a frown.
“Portkey.” Severus called up to her without preamble. “Do you have a port key?”
Pandora’s eyes darted to the left then back down to Severus. She scratched at her nose, her cool, even gaze boring a hole through Severus’s chest. “Hitching a ride out of here before shit hits the fan?” She asked, just loud enough for the words to carry down to him.
Severus’ breath caught in his throat. Perhaps he still wasn’t accustomed to speaking so casually with Pandora. He’d always thought that they had spent too much time at each other’s throats to ever achieve something like cordiality. Then, without Severus even realizing, they had slipped right past cordial into something… different.
He didn’t like it. He didn’t like the way she looked at him, or that stabbing in his chest he got when she did. His head throbbed, his heart did the same. “Yes.” He answered.
“You’ll miss the best part.” She said as she pushed her hair behind her ears. A few locs broke free and she tilted her head, tossing them over her shoulder. She hummed, her tongue darted out to wet her lips. “Perhaps you wouldn’t like that part actually.” She mused then smiled.
Looking up at her, Severus tried to toe the line between staring and merely looking. He did not think he was succeeding, but Pandora merely smiled, entertaining some funny thought that Severus was not privy too. He squeezed the fabric of his winkled shirt, unable to stop the churning of his stomach or the racing of his thoughts. Was this what Rapunzel looked like up in her tower? With her long blond hair, a soft smile, and glittering eyes, among nothing but endless rows of books. What then did that make Severus? The prince?
He shook his head, hoping that if he did so hard enough his brain matter would simply flow out of his ear. It was clear his brain was good for nothing. He truly did not need it anymore. “Stay for the evening then I’ll give you a port key.” Pandora said, drawing his attention back to the woman above.
“I haven’t a choice, do I?” He sighed.
Pandora shrugged. She reached behind her, pulling a thin green book from the shelf. Then, disregarding the dust, she dug her fingers into the narrow space and pulled free a tiny trinket: a miniature nutcracker, if Severus’ eyes could be trusted. Pandora set it down upon the railing and replaced the book in its proper place. “It’s yours if you want it. I won’t stop you. You can come and get it.”
Severus licked his lips; his mouth suddenly dry for reasons he couldn’t name. He had been tricked before. He had been manipulated, duped, and hoodwinked before. He was not foolish; he was not easily tempted. So why then did he feel the urge to trust Pandora. What did she gain from helping him?
Severus moved towards the ladder, carefully working his way up the rungs to the second landing. Pandora's fingers rested upon the nutcracker and Severus prepared himself for the moment she would snatch it away. When she would laugh in his face for being so naive. Still, unashamedly desperate, he stepped forward. Pandora turned the nutcracker to face him; its poorly painted wooden head peaking out between her fingers before she let it go entirely and stepped back a pace. She neared the window, remaining still like someone heeding a skittish dog.
It caused Severus to scowl. He tore his gaze away from the nutcracker just long enough to glare at Pandora, but paused when he found her wholly distracted by whatever was happening outside the window.
Curious, he grew closer, standing opposite Pandora as he pressed his hand to the glass and leaned in. She shifted, her face slowly moving nearer to the glass as she tried to glimpse something further down the beach. Severus swallowed down the scent of lavender wafting off of her hair and tried to keep his eyes focused on the scene outside, at least what he could see of it. The small figure erecting massive pillars out of the sand could only be one of two people, and Severus thought it highly unlikely that Aurora would be out on the beach without her shirt on. The small silhouette more than likely belonged to Bruce and behind him the sun was setting; blankets of red and orange resting on waves of blue as heavy clouds moved sluggishly across the sky. It was beautiful.
“I don’t like him, but it’s always so pretty.” Pandora said suddenly.
“What is?” He asked, his mind moving faster than his mouth.
“Come on,” she urged.
There wasn’t much room between them and Severus had little time to react when Pandora grasped his wrist and pulled him away from the window. She ushered him down the ladder, then descended the rungs herself. Her hand clasped his wrist again and she was dragging him out of the mahogany door before he realized what was happening. She stopped suddenly in the hall.
“Aw damn it.” She swore under her breath. “Wait for me.” she said, then she was darting back into the library leaving a very confused Severus standing alone in the hall with a swarm of butterflies fluttering around his stomach. He opened and closed his palm around the nutcracker, a strange fighting down that strange anxiety. He looked around for anything to take his mind off of Pandora when his eyes caught on a door left slightly ajar.
Remus’ room, he remembered. Severus inched towards it, lifting and dropping his feet as quietly as possible as he watched the sliver under the door for any passing shadows or any other signs of movement. There was none, and with his ear beside the wood, he couldn’t hear anything. If he was lucky Lupin wouldn’t be inside at all.
He had lied before, Severus had always been weak to temptation. He had always had an unbearable need to stick his nose where it didn’t belong. So he placed his hand gently against the wood, and pushed the door open a fraction, slyly peering inside.
“Severus,” Lupin called, grinning softly. Seated in his bed and propped up against the headboard was Remus Lupin. A book lay in his lap, the warm light of a candle glowing from his bedside table. “How are you?” he asked softly.
Severus should have known better. He should have had more restraint. He should have been wiser, not falling into that foolish habit of sniffing out the trail of the bloody marauders. He cursed himself but more so Remus for being where he, admittedly, had every right to be. Severus breathed in deeply and pushed the door open wider, fully revealing himself in the doorway. He remained just at the threshold, scowling in the face of Remus’ calm smile. "I wanted to thank you for the other day. I took a bit of a tumble. I appreciate you helping me." Remus said.
Severus frowned. He had never liked Lupin, and neither the years they spent apart, nor the time they spent here on this island together hadn’t changed that. He wished the damn wolf would just keel over and die. But, for once in his life, Severus decided he would take the high road. Perhaps it was the leftover drugs in his system, all the concussive trauma to his brain, or maybe just the result of that brain splitting pain but Severus swallowed down the cutting remark pushing against the back of his teeth and grit out instead: "It's fine." The words felt like barbed wire coming up his throat and once they were past his lips, Severus thought he might die. Lord, he felt faint. He would never do that again. It was bad for his health.
Remus' eyes glittered in surprise and his smile widened. As a result, bile churned in Severus’ stomach, drowning the butterflies Pandora had set loose in there. Where was Pandora? He wanted this conversation to be over.
Remus set his book aside, sitting up straighter and folding his hands in his lap. "Did you want to come in and chat?" He asked and Severus felt like he had stepped into some strange universe where Lupin was a mind healer. He was too calm, too even toned. He wore too much brown and beige, he smiled too softly. He was too complacent; and Severus did not like him.
His eyes continued to scan the room. He froze when they suddenly caught on a small, fuzzy black triangle peaking out from the opposite side of Remus’ bed: a dog’s ear.
Before panic could begin to stab into him, a door slammed shut to his left, startling him. Severus turned to find Pandora coming up behind him, her hand already outstretched, intent on grabbing him up by his wrist. "Come on, Snape." she said, and in his desperation to get out of the situation he had put himself in, he met her half way, wrapping his palm around her own and following with eager footsteps as she led them down the stairs. He heard the soft ‘goodbye’ Remus called at them and just as they were approaching the balustrade, he heard the scratching of nails against the hard wood.
His heart raced, rattling and shaking like a train ready to run off the tracks. Pandora’s hand began to slip from his and he hastened his steps lest he lose his lifeline. He looked back over his shoulder but Pandora gave him a soft tug, stealing his attention away. “Don’t drag your feet,” she ordered, bright laughter bubbling out of her as they streaked through the living room, broke out the back door, and raced down the steps. He squeezed her hand in his, fighting back the heat in his face when she smiled back at him. There was something unnatural about Pandora. She made him feel just as offkilter as this island did. She was a force of her own, and at the current moment, she was much too athletic for how out of shape he was. Even with his much longer legs, he huffed like a dog trying to keep up. His bare feet slapped against the cool sand and he stared out at the melting pool of colors resting atop the waves, letting Pandora decide their path. The wind blew his hair into his face and rippled through his shirt. It was slowing him down and he was slowing Pandora down. He truly had the aerodynamics of a brick.
Severus couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer absurdity of it all. Perhaps he was losing his mind. Still, despite it all, Pandora’s laughter carried past his ears, riding on the gusts of wind pushing against them. He was certain Pandora had already lost hers, so perhaps losing his own wasn’t so bad.