“Severus?”
There was a warm hand brushing his hair back off of his forehead, he flinched away from it. But his tormentor was persistent.
“Severus, can I get you anything?” Morgan could tell that her husband was awake at last. She’d been on pins and needles the last few days. She had no idea what had happened to him, no idea where he had been. And no one would tell her. It had scared her no small end.
Severus finally had to open his eyes as she wasn’t going to leave him alone unless he gave some sort of response, “let me be Morgan,” his voice was raspy and the words hurt. He hadn’t realized how raw his throat was until then.
“Please Severus, just let me…”
“Let me be!” he snapped and pushed her hand away roughly, accompanying it with several sharper words that made his wife’s face flame and her heart twist painfully.
But Morgan said nothing as she slipped out of the room, eyes firmly fastened on the floor.
“Careful my dear,” Albus Dumbledore put out a steadying hand to catch the young woman before she could walk straight into him.
Morgan mumbled an apology as her face flamed even brighter.
“I was wondering if Severus might be up for a visitor,” he continued gently, not missing the way Morgan looked back uneasily towards the bedroom she had just vacated and then back up at him with large, confused eyes. “I’ll just let myself in, and take full blame if he is not feeling up for a visit.” He didn’t miss the way that Morgan seemed to relax at those words. He offered the young woman a reassuring smile. While few others aware of the marriage had found anything good to say about it, the Headmaster was fairly certain that no better match could have been made. Even if the two parties involved were fighting against it.
Morgan pulled her robe tight about her as she watched the Headmaster disappear into her and Severus’ bedroom. The chill she felt had nothing to do with the temperature of the rooms. She had sincerely feared for her husband’s life when he first returned. Dumbledore and Poppy had spent several hours with him, after Morgan had been ordered from the room. And then told her that her husband would be fine and she could look after him.
“I wish they didn’t treat me like a child, I have every right to know what happened,” Morgan muttered to herself. She angrily dropped into the closest armchair and flipped through the closest book, a dry potions’ text, without seeing the pages as she strained to hear anything from the next room. Every so often she would look up and notice the amount of time that had passed with no further word. In an unconscious habit she had picked up her hand drifted to her still flat midsection and her thoughts drifted to her unborn child.
“I am afraid I have kept you from your bed, my dear,” Albus startled Morgan out of her reverie. Some of the twinkle had returned to his eyes, which had been missing upon his first visit to the currently bed-ridden Severus. “I trust that it will not be too dangerous for you to venture back into the serpent’s lair. No need,” he gestured Morgan back when she made to follow him, “I can see myself out. You have other matters to attend to.”
It took no small amount of Gryffindor courage to make Morgan return to the bedroom out of which she had been so rudely thrown out of earlier. She relaxed slightly when it appeared that her husband was sleeping. She found herself hoping rather uncharitably that Dumbledore had forced some sleeping potion into him. Nevertheless, she was as silent as possible as she slipped off her robe and slipped into her side of the bed, remaining as far on her side as possible.
“I was told I was being rather… unreasonable,” Severus said darkly from the other side of the bed.
Morgan snorted at the vast understatement. But appreciated the apology for what it was. “If I’m going to disturb you I can just as easily sleep on the couch,” she offered.
“I’d rather you didn’t stray too far,” Severus reached for his wife and pulled her against him. As much as he resented the Headmaster meddling his personal affairs, he had to admit, even to himself, that he might not have been as pleasant as he should have been earlier. Morgan’s small body was warm and comforting against his, and he found that it helped relieve some of the last remnants of pain. He breathed in the soft sent of her hair, allowing himself a smile as she cuddled up against him.
“Tell me what happened.”
“No.”
Morgan pulled back a little bit, but it was too dark to read her husband’s face, “I want to know. I was so worried about you…” she nearly hesitated, but then reached up to gently brush back the dark locks that had spilled over across her husband’s forehead. His hair wasn’t greasy at all to the touch, but incredibly silky, she loved the way it slipped through her fingers.
Severus tried to suppress a grunt of pain as he shifted in bed and tried to pull Morgan back against him. “Your concern is touching, but there are certain things you are better off not knowing.”
Morgan sighed, “I just want to know if there is anything I can do. I’m so afraid of what will happen to you if Voldemort returns to power.”
Severus hesitated for a moment, “I am not sure how much comfort it will give you, but when Voldemort returns, and I don’t doubt that he will, I will probably be safer than I am now.”
Morgan twisted out of his arms and groped for her wand to relight the candles. “Why will you be safer if he returns?!” She glared down at him as she pushed herself into a sitting position.
Severus hissed as he tried to push himself up, “I will not discuss this further with you!”
Morgan crossed her arms over her chest and glowered right back at him. “You’re going to hurt yourself, lie back down.”
“You will not tell me what to…”
“Severus, I just want to know that I’m not going to lose you!”
Severus slowly eased himself back down against the pillows holding eye contact with his wife the entire time. “I will tell you this much. The dark revels have never been sanctioned. With very few exceptions each meeting the dark lord presided over was little more interesting than a staff meeting. All of the more atrocious acts come from the nature of the followers that Voldemort attracted. They would likely have been, in extreme cases, the rapists and murders anyway, or at least would have considered it. He just united them.”
“So…”
“I was valuable to Voldemort before, I’m sure I still will be. It is the Malfoys I must watch myself around.”
Morgan stiffened as her husband reached for her again, “you’re hurt…”
“I’m not an invalid yet.”
Morgan laughed softly as his hands dragged her back down to the mattress. “You are the only man I know that can drag himself back from a Death Eater function, half-dead I might add, and then demand that your wife make love to you.”
“I shall not demand…”
Morgan rolled her eyes, but kissed her husband warmly anyways. She almost said that she loved him, and was thankful when his mouth claimed hers more forcefully, not allowing her any words. She wasn’t sure if they were true, and didn’t want to speak them out loud if they weren’t. She wasn’t sure what had happened. But she knew that the hours she had spent pacing in worried frustration while Poppy and Dumbledore hurried in and out had given her ample time to think about what her relationship with her husband was exactly.
And she knew that she cared for him, deeply. But she didn’t know if it was love.