Forsaking All Others

Chapter Nineteen

Forsaking All Others

Severus listened intently as Tess recounted her past with Clym, and he observed the detail from an analytical perspective, as one might solve a puzzle or build a theory. He also noticed Tess's eyes shining as she reminisced, her tears welling as she recalled her heartache, and her features crumple when she explained her decisions and her regrets, but he struggled to translate these emotions. He understood she suffered some pain; however, Severus tended to favour examining concepts and determining dynamics, rather than interpreting feelings. Empathy was not his strongest suit; he felt uncomfortable talking about his own emotions, let alone someone else's.

When the tale was told, Severus prepared his response whilst Tess conjured her own handkerchief and blew her nose. Her eyes were downcast as she poured herself another cup of tea, and her features were doleful when she wordlessly enquired of his wish for a second cup.

He nodded, and she poured.

Adding two spoonfuls of sugar to his tea, she asked, "Are you going to say anything at all?"

Severus cleared his throat. "I was just musing over our differences," he said by way of reply, feeling awkward about addressing her emotional needs. "Your greatest shame is of knowingly continuing an affair with a married man. Mine is of attempting to trade the lives of James and Harry Potter so that I might take Lily for myself." He paused to take a contemplative sip of tea, examining their past predicaments by judging each contributing factor, and ignoring the clenching knot of tension in his chest. "We are equally accountable for our decisions and have gone to great lengths to conceal them."

His observations did little to ease Tess's tension, and tears threatened to spill down her cheeks once more.

"You're upset," he noticed, unsure why his words had not provided some comfort.

Tess drew in a deep breath which appeared to make her shudder; she seemed then to give up, resting her forehead on her upturned palm and shaking her head.

Severus wanted to understand, but didn't know how to respond. "What's the matter?"

"You don't seem to care, Severus!" Tess blurted, her hands open wide in exasperation.

Stunned by her outburst, Severus realised his mouth was gaping. Pressing his lips together, he hesitated, at a loss for words.

Imploringly, Tess explained, "This can't be solved by logic and rationalisation. Feelings can't be dismissed so easily."

The knot of tension tightened in his chest as he realised how difficult he found responding to Tess on this level. He'd spent his whole life covering up his feelings and controlling them with Occlumency; he believed revealing his emotions for the world to see was tantamount to showing weakness. Whilst it was true that Tess had never judged him whenever he'd expressed his emotions, he felt inadequately prepared for discussing the complexities of their relationship. How could he be sure that she would approve of him? How could he trust she would still want to be with him?

He knew his next sentence would come at great personal cost. He might as well lie on a cold stone altar and offer himself up for sacrifice.

"Then tell me what you're feeling," he said, his mouth dry with apprehension.

Tess bit her lip, fixing her line of sight at the ceiling. Her voice was tremulous. "Exposed, fragile, ashamed... Worried you don't love me anymore."

Her words punched a hole in his chest, releasing tension and flooding him with the knowledge that she had experienced the same insecurities which had haunted him for months. In his relief, he placed his arm around her shoulder, and she collapsed into his embrace, sobbing quietly.

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I still love you," he whispered into her hair.

She clung onto his arm, dissolving into floods of tears.

Not knowing how to console her, he quipped, "That is, of course, unless you'd prefer I didn't love you?"

Almost immediately, Tess laughed, snivelled, and squeezed his arm gently. "Now you're being ridiculous."

She folded her hanky and blew her nose again.

Severus realised that after years of avoiding his feelings, he seemed a complete novice at navigating the emotional currents of a relationship. How would he be able to offer solace when he lacked the ability to soothe himself? There seemed to be much to learn.

Tess, however, leapt ten steps ahead, able to make sense of what had just occurred as though it were second nature.

"All this time, both of us have been concealing things, believing our secrets would jeopardise the way we feel about each other."

Severus felt awed by her ability to comprehend the crux of the problem on an emotional level. "It seems so."

"And yet," Tess continued, "we fundamentally know how the other feels because of our own experiences of guilt, shame and rejection."

As Severus listened to her words, he appreciated her ability to understand and empathise, knowing her wisdom lay in a different arena to his own. Theoretically, their differences might complement each other and make their partnership stronger, but at the same time, he wondered pensively if their disparity might become divisive. His sense of inadequacy made him curdle.

"Something's troubling you, Severus."

He pinched his lips together, noticing the trail of blood had leaked further down his shirt, diluted by Tess's tears. Somehow, he needed to communicate his fear.

"You're so much more... experienced... than me," he said.

"Experienced?" Tess asked, with a disbelieving gasp. "I hope you're not inferring..."

Severus sensed he'd unwittingly caused offence, and he almost shrunk away. "You've had more than one long-term relationship," he tried to explain.

The sound of scoffing alerted him further to the danger ahead, but before he could elaborate, Tess bit back, "I'm thirty-five years old, what did you expect? Did you think I was a virgin before I met Alex?"

"I wasn't referring to your sexual exploits," he answered, trying not to show irritation, and hoping he wouldn't lose his thread. "Although, having just come face to face with your ex-lover, it did make me wonder..."

He trailed off, afraid to reveal his self-doubt. Maybe it would be better to retract, hide, and not admit his insufficiency. Perhaps he could save himself by putting distance between them. Did he really want Tess to see him so vulnerable, so low in confidence, so...?

"Wonder what, Severus?" she asked. Her words sounded strangely strangled.

When he eventually spoke, his voice croaked. "I don't know if I can be enough for you."

For the space of several heavy heartbeats, Severus waited for her reply, not daring to shift his gaze from the floor. Part of him hoped she would read the subtext and assume he was not cut out for a relationship. That might save them both a cauldronful of pain further down the line. Another part of him wanted her to reassure him, even though that might take them down the path less travelled.

After what seemed like eternity, but was mere seconds in reality, Tess's soft hands wound around his forearm, tugging him gently.

"I love you, Severus. You're the one I want to be with, not Clym."

A flicker of hope danced in front of his eyes, enticing him to surrender, but the uncertain part of him needed to be sure.

"That man is nothing like me," he replied, stating fact, looking for affirmation.

"That is true," Tess conceded.

"He schemed to win you back whilst I was gone."

"He told you that?"

Severus nodded.

"I suspected as much." Tess sighed. "But Clym failed to realise, as you fail to realise, that my heart belonged elsewhere. It belongs to you, Severus. I'm here because this is where I want to be. I just wish I hadn't been so secretive."

Severus assimilated her words, slowly realising that Tess had given him everything he needed to feel secure. He couldn't quite comprehend why he deserved such a commitment, and there remained a worry that he might unintentionally fail her with his lack of aptitude in relationship subtleties. However, he immediately understood one thing which needed to change.

"We shall have no more secrets," Severus resolved.

"No more secrets," Tess agreed.

She touched the silver band on Severus's little finger and caressed the golden brown stone with the pad of her fingertip. "I've often thought it would've been easier for us to communicate if our rings helped us understand each other's thoughts and feelings, like they once did."

Reminded of his magical malady, Severus let go of Tess and removed his ring, placing it on the table next to his cup and saucer. "That ring may have lost its connection to yours, but it remains inextricably linked to me."

Tess perceived the ominous tones in his voice. "How do you mean?"

"Watch," Severus instructed, picking up his wand from the floor, authoritatively conducting a classic swish and flick. "Orchideous!"

Predictably, nothing happened, except that the silver band on the coffee table glinted in the candlelight.

Tess gasped, looking to Severus for an explanation. He then replaced the ring on his finger, cast the same charm, and a dozen orange roses sprang forth from his wand, landing in Tess's hands. She smiled at the gesture, her curiosity piqued by the evidence on display.

"I don't understand how that's possible," she said, her voice breathless.

"Nor do I," Severus replied.

As if on cue, Fogle the house-elf trotted into the living room, carrying a vase full of water. Tess gave the bouquet to him and watched the elf skilfully arrange the flowers whilst avoiding the prick of the thorns.

"Master Severus's magic is magnificent when he wears his ring," he commented as he worked.

Tess's eyebrows crept further up her forehead, and Severus felt obliged to explain. "Fogle helped identify the connection between my magical ability and the anti-Horcrux. What I don't yet know is why I remain tied to this ring. At first, I thought the problem was caused by an alteration to the potion which revivified me; I suspected Clym had sabotaged it in some way."

The sweet, silky-smooth fragrance of roses drifted across the room as Tess frowned in thought, shaking her head. "Clym didn't interfere with the potion; I know that for certain. He followed our instructions, and I watched him as he added the final three ingredients... Of course, we are forgetting there was one ingredient which we altered, against Clym's advice. After you'd refused me permission to seek out your father, we used your earthly remains instead."

Severus felt a sickening lurch in his stomach. He had almost forgotten his own concern about that alteration; he'd convinced himself that the choice was justified, and in the process, effectively distorted his memory.

"Are you saying that 'Bone of the Father' served another purpose which I failed to foresee?"

"Perhaps," Tess replied, deep in thought.

"But my father was a Muggle who despised magic," Severus appealed. "How could that influence my credibility as a wizard?"

"I don't know, Severus, but from where I'm sitting, it's the only logical conclusion."

In the silence which followed, Fogle cleared away their teapot, cups and saucers, and Severus contemplated his conclusion.

"So you're saying we must track him down?" he asked. "Discover what purpose he serves?"

"That would seem sensible."

Trepidation crept through his abdomen like a scuttling spider. The thought of contacting his father filled him with dread; he'd had good reason for banishing the man who'd made his life a misery, yet despite his hatred for his father's actions, a small part of Severus felt ashamed about sending him to exile with his memory wiped clean. He may well have written the man's death sentence.

"I don't know where to begin – he could be anywhere – alive or dead."

"He's still alive," Tess said. "I know where to find him."

A ripple of confusion obscured his sense of relief. "But you promised me that you wouldn't go after him," Severus stated, suspicion edging his voice.

"I didn't," Tess reassured. "Clym found his address on the nineteen-ninety-one census. I've still got the slip of paper in my desk drawer at Hogwarts; I never contacted him."

The news that his father was alive and traceable caused Severus more consternation than he might have anticipated. Yes, there was now a chance to solve the mystery of his magical malady; however, he would have to confront long-buried bitterness about his childhood and make contact with the man he'd condemned. Even if he could bring himself to speak to his father, how would he ever persuade the man to help him?

Tess picked up the vase of roses and placed them on the mantelpiece. With her back towards him, she said quietly, "I can go to him, if you like? I'll test the water, find out what we're facing."

Some of his dread dissolved, leaving behind heavy warmth and gratitude; Tess had become so tuned-in to his needs that she was able to sense them, without him having to ask.

"I'd like some time to think about it," he said softly.

Tess nodded, turned to him, and smiled. "Whenever you're ready."

Fan-art by star_girl