The early morning of the 8th of February 2020

20. The early morning of the 8th of February 2020

"Severus?" The voice was decisive and stern, and someone was patting his cheek with an annoying vigor. "Severus? Are you all right?"

He opened his eyes. Black spots moved in and out of his field of vision, and when he couldn't focus, he closed them again. The sounds around him were odd, as if he were sitting inside a metal barrel. He tried to lift his head but the shooting pain in his neck forced him to stay where he was.

"Severus!" This time he received a hard slap instead of the earlier patting. Phineas. It was Phineas trying to wake him.

"Stop it." He managed to grab his wrist, stopping him from inflicting more pain.

"Thank Merlin, you're awake again!" Phineas sounded relieved, which felt odd.

Severus forced his eyes open, staring up at something blue, again trying to find something to focus on. A silhouette came in to his field of vision. He squinted and then blinked a couple of times. And that did it: Phineas' features cleared.

"I'm so terribly sorry, Headmaster. I was convinced it was Sirius Black."

That voice. He recognised it. He tried to remember why he recognised it, and what had happened, but the dull, throbbing pain in his neck was sending spikes of pain into his skull and made it impossible to keep his mind in order. Phineas' face disappeared, and Severus was, again, staring at the blue above him.

"As you should be, Cadogan. What in the name of Salazar were you thinking? Even you must have known that, first of all, Sirius Black is dead; second, he doesn't have a portrait at Hogwarts and never will; and third, he was declared innocent of all charges! And I can't see how you made the mistake in the first place. They look nothing alike!"

"Well ... they are both tall, skinny and... and... and scruffy looking. Have a certain piratical air to them ... and they both neglect their hair."

"Even so, they are not even remotely similar!"

Severus had never heard Phineas bellow before. And his head might—like an egg that had been dropped on the floor—crack open from the experience.

"I'm terribly sorry!" Cadogan was whining, as if Phineas' bellowing wasn't enough to keep Severus down.

Severus wasn't staying. He turned on his stomach and got up on his hands and knees. He had to pause for a moment and wait for the nausea to settle before getting to his feet. The world tilted and swayed, but he managed to take a couple of steps on his own.

"Severus!" Phineas was at his side supporting him. "I intended to float you. You're in no condition to walk on your own."

"I will not be floated." He staggered and was forced to lean more heavily on Phineas, who was now roaring at Sir Cadogan to get out of their way since he was running around their feet offering his support while almost tripping them both up.

It was slow going as they weaved their way through the paintings. Severus staggered and tripped his way forward, the pains in his neck and head almost too much for him to bear.

"Severus, why did you, by all accounts, run like a mad man through the paintings last evening?" Phineas was panting as he spoke, and that made Severus realise that he was practically dragging him toward his own painting. "Not that Cadogan was coherent when he came and fetched me, but the other portraits were quite vocal about your rather destructive path through them."

Severus pressed his eyes together and tried to make the fog in his brain disappear. He gave up the attempt at remembering.

"I have no idea. Does it matter?" He heard his voice croaking the words at what seemed to be quite a distance away.

"You used to run when you were ... upset."

Phineas knew about? How did he know?

Severus cleared his throat, which made him hurt again. "How do you know about that?"

"I saw you. Albus said that you, well, that you needed the outlet and that I should leave it be. So I did."

His skin prickled from embarrassment to such a degree that he was able to disregard some of the pain, managing to straighten and not lean on Phineas to such a great extent any longer. But he was still tall enough to be able to catch his gaze.

"If something bothered you that much, it might just be important enough to try to remember."

He made sense. But he always did. For the most part. But when he nodded at Phineas, pain stabbed through his head again, just as brutally as before. When the pain had turned into a dull throbbing Severus tried to put his disjointed thoughts together again.

"I was trying to ... come to a decision about something, I think."

Phineas took a firmer grip around him and hoisted him higher.

"Not an easy decision then, I take it. Anything else?"

"Time. Not much time."

"Pardon?"

"The time frame. I did not have much time to decide."

Phineas shouldered his way through the door that lead into Severus' painting, dragging him along.

"You need rest." Phineas unceremoniously dumped Severus on his bed. The mattress and the soft pillows supported his aching neck and head in a way that made him feel almost normal again. The pain diminished enough for him to be able to relax, and he felt himself starting to drift off.

"I will stay, of course." Phineas' voice roused him again.

"I will manage."

"Cadogan hit you over the neck with a sword. It's a miracle that he didn't behead you in the process. I want to make sure you are all right."

"We are portraits. We don't die."

"Not from old age, no. But portraits sometimes stand empty, and the inhabitants never return. Didn't you ever wonder why? I do. And quite honestly, good company is rare, and you are the first portrait in decades I can stand for longer than a quarter of an hour."

Severus held back his chuckle. Phineas shouldn't have the satisfaction, and chuckling would in all likelihood hurt like Hades.

And then he fell asleep.