He understood immediately how the book worked. There was nothing written on the pages except the date of the memory it contained; to view it, one had to pull the bookmark corresponding to the chosen page, which would activate and transport the viewer directly into that memory.
The memories were marked not only with the month, day and year, but some, presumably relating to particularly eventful days, even with the time and place. Omegas' life had been divided into stages: a page without a bookmark at the beginning of each stage of her life had a word written on it to indicate it. That woman was so obsessively orderly, Severus thought, that she felt the need to divide and organise even her own life experiences; as if she didn't know them, as if she hadn't lived them firsthand.
The very first page read 'Nurmengard'. He had no interest in witnessing the abuse and torture that had been inflicted on her during her childhood. Nevertheless, he was curious to know what her very first memory was, as well as to see Gellert Grindelwald's prison for himself. Therefore, Severus decided to pull the first silver thread of the small book.
It was dated 9th August 1971.
He found himself in a large room, almost entirely dark, except for a few rays of sunlight that filtered through the thick grey curtains of the nearby window. In one corner, a tiny girl was crouched on the floor, giggling softly.
Severus approached her. Her unmistakable purple eyes seemed even bigger on such a small face. She was twirling a pale finger in a circle, and a white mouse was squeaking happily as it chased it. When the mouse finally reached her, it sank its teeth into the pad of her index finger and a small trickle of blood fell down her hand.
She giggled. "Got me!"
She switched fingers and the mouse resumed its chasing.
"Omegas."
Severus turned. At the other end of the room stood a tall man with hard features, ash blond hair and a face marked by deep wrinkles.
Gellert Grindelwald was old. Not as old as in the photograph Severus had seen in the Daily Prophet when his death was announced, but still quite old. He approached the girl and held out his hand.
"Come," he commanded gently.
His voice was calm, deep, and his intense brown eyes gave him a look surprisingly similar to the one Severus had seen in his daughter.
Omegas picked up the mouse by its tail, got up from the floor and followed her father.
They walked into another room, smaller than the previous one. There was only a table, a few chairs and a large glass window with no curtains. Grindelwald gestured to the girl and she hesitantly placed the mouse on the table.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
Severus noticed that the lip movements did not match the words he heard. It wasn't hard to work out why: Grindelwald must have been speaking another language, but Omegas, as she had revealed in one of their many conversations, spoke at least seven, and must have been able to remember her experiences in all of them. He heard it in English because it was the only one he understood.
"I…" she stammered. She looked at the mouse, which had resumed chasing her finger. "I don't want to."
Her father towered over her sternly. "What did you say?"
She shook her head quickly. "Nothing."
Grindelwald's face twisted. All of a sudden, his eyes were almost out of his sockets, he was gritting his teeth, and he had taken on a reddish hue. He raised a hand.
"LIAR!" he thundered.
His open hand struck his daughter across the cheek with such force that she fell to the ground with a whimper.
And then he was calm and composed again.
"Do you think it's wrong?" he asked quietly.
Omegas cupped her own cheek with a trembling, tinny hand, and nodded weakly.
"Then you must fight for what you believe in."
He held out a hand and helped her to her feet. She walked back to the table and looked at the squirming mouse her father was holding in one hand.
"I… I think it's wrong and I… don't want to do it," she said shakily.
Gellert smiled at her and nodded. "Good, Omegas. Then you will not."
She raised her head and gave her father a tiny smile.
But it quickly faded. Grindelwald raised the other arm and Severus only then noticed that he was holding a silver dagger. He stabbed that mouse with a fierce that, considering its dimensions, was completely unnecessary. The mouse lay lifeless in a small pool of blood.
Omegas didn't flinch. She didn't make a sound, she didn't jump, she didn't look away. She just kept staring at the dead mouse with empty eyes.
Gellert knelt before her. "Do you know why I did it?" he asked calmly.
She muttered words too trembling and muffled to be heard.
"What was that, my pet?"
"Be… because it distracted me."
"Yes, Omegas. Because it distracted you." He leaned forward and gently tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. "You cannot afford to be distracted. You know that."
He took her hand in his and squeezed it.
"You are essential. The most important. You have the greatest mission there is."
Omegas' big violet eyes were full of tears, but she didn't seem to be inclined to give in to them. She nodded resolutely and he smiled tenderly at her.
"Come here."
She wrapped her arms around her father's neck. He lifted her and carried her out of the room.
The memory ended. The moment it did, Severus decided he would never look at anything from the Nurmengard phase again.
Instead, he moved on to the Hogwarts phase. He knew there would be nothing in those pages that Omegas wouldn't be happy to tell anyone who asked, so he didn't waste too much time on them. He only looked at the first one in chronological order, dated 1st September 1978: the first day of her first year.
She was sitting opposite a group of boys on the Hogwarts Express. Eleven-year-old Omegas was thin and short, and the large grey robe she was wearing, far too big for her, made her look way younger than her peers. She seemed happy. Her legs were bouncing up and down on the train seat, and she had a large, dreamy smile on her face.
The boys opposite her were giggling. One of them eyed her curiously and leaned towards his friend's ear. He whispered something; it must have been a particularly funny remark, for the other boy burst out laughing. Omegas looked at them and tilted her head slightly to one side.
"Something 's funny?" she asked softly.
The boy who had been whispering laughed. "Yes. You are."
Omegas pursed her lips, but her smile stayed in place. She got up and headed for the door; probably, Severus thought, to leave and change compartments. But that wasn't the case. She looked down the corridor: it was empty. She closed the door and drew the curtains. She gave the group of boys a long glance and a particularly sharp mischievous grin.
In the blink of an eye, she lunged at the whispering boy, threw him to the ground, straddled him and punched him in the face.
"Let me go! LET ME GO!" he shouted, but to no avail.
She hit him until his nose began to bleed and the blood splashed on the girl's face and clothes. The others, paralysed, watched the scene in silence for a few moments before someone found the courage to get up and call for help.
The memory changed. Omegas was in what Severus recognised as the back of the Great Hall. With her were Professor McGonagall and Albus Dumbledore, the latter holding the Sorting Hat and scrutinising the girl sitting in a chair in front of him. Severus had never seen his bright blue eyes so full of resentment.
Professor McGonagall was pacing back and forth.
"Never," she said, her voice trembling with anger. "Never, since the very beginning of my career. Never, in twenty years of teaching, have I…"
He didn't hear the rest of the scolding; Omegas probably hadn't been paying attention. A moment later, the Sorting Hat was on her head, clearly proclaiming, "Slytherin!"
She took it off, stood up and gave the Headmaster a smile that went unreturned.
The memory changed again; now she was sneaking into the Great Hall. She scanned the tables carefully until she saw the Slytherin one. She approached it with a spring in her step, her clothes and face still covered in blood. Severus saw himself rise from the table and give her a glare. It was, he remarked, one of the coldest looks in his repertoire. She grinned and looked him in the eye.
"You should see the other one."
The memory ended.
Severus lingered for a moment on the sleeping woman before him, who had now turned in the armchair and was curled up with her back to him. What had just witnessed was what Omegas described as a 'rather funny exchange of opinions'. In any other situation, he would have given her a glare of disapproval; but there was no one conscious in that room, and he allowed himself a chuckle.
He decided to change phase again. The pages that followed the word 'Durmstrang' were plenty and filled with memories. Her time at the school had been one of the things Omegas had talked about most fondly, along with her travels around the world, so Severus was not particularly interested in what he would see by pulling the silver bookmarks. He did notice, however, that some of the pages looked almost worn. They were crumpled in the part of the paper just below the silver thread; those memories must have been watched countless times. It piqued his curiosity. He decided to look at the one that seemed to have been pulled the most.
The date was 7th January 1981.
Severus found himself in a rather narrow, dark room, except for a small chandelier that cast a faint yellowish light. The walls were lined with shelves, and in the centre of the room was a large dark marble table. Every usable surface was covered with glass and ceramic bottles, flasks, jars and pots, most of them scattered around without a specific label or purpose.
He knew immediately where he was; she had described it to him in detail. That was her Potions Professor's office at Durmstrang; or rather, the Venoms Professor's office. It was quite similar to his own, except for the chaos and the small round window through which a great deal of snowflakes falling rapidly could be seen.
Gregorius Zakoten was impressive. Severus was not an easy person to impress, but that man, in such gloomy surroundings, made quite an impact. The Professor was tall, much taller than any man he had ever seen. He was sure he would have been even taller than Hagrid if he hadn't had a hunchback. He wore a rather shabby dark grey robe, its sleeves reaching down to his awfully long, pale fingers. He was was completely bald, with a pair of bulging dark eyes and two large protruding ears.[1] In comparison, Severus thought, he himself must have looked reassuring.
Beside him, sitting in a small stool in one corner, was a teenager Omegas. She was dragging a worn cloth over an empty cauldron, rubbing it over and over in the same spot absently. Her dreamy eyes were fixed on the Professor's swift movements over the cauldron.
"You know, I have a feeling you deliberately get yourself into detention," he said softly.
His voice was oddly deep; it didn't sound quite human.[2]
She raised her gaze to his face. "Sir?"
The Professor turned and fixed his dark eyes on her. "I'm always the one who catches you when you do something you shouldn't be doing."
Omegas lowered her head.
"Why is it?" he pressed.
"I…" she murmured. She cleared her throat. "I enjoy watching you work, sir."
"Hm…" he mused. "No, that's not it."
She looked at him again, now vaguely intrigued. "Sir?"
"You always get detention on Fridays. You choose to spend the weekends here. Why?"
It didn't sound like an accusation, more like genuine curiosity.
She blushed and lowered her head again. She paused briefly before speaking; when she did, her voice trembled slightly.
"Students from the third year onwards permitted to visit the village at weekends, sir."
He frowned. "You don't want to go to the village?"
Omegas shook her head weakly.
The Professor studied her for a few moments. "You don't have to go if you don't want to. It's not compulsory."
His soft tone and reassuring words clashed so deeply with his appearance that it almost felt as if they didn't come from him.
"Yes, sir, I have to," she replied. "Kat and Ivan force me to."
He narrowed his eyes. "Mr Totev and Miss Salim are your friends?"
A peculiar expression appeared on her face. She seemed annoyed—embarrassed.
"They are," she muttered.
"Then I'm sure they would understand if you were honest with them."
She made a discontented grimace. "No, sir. I don't think they would."
Professor Zakoten kept his penetrating eyes on her bowed head. A few minutes passed before he leaned back over his desk and resumed moving his extraordinarily long fingers over his work.
"You can tell Mr Totev and Miss Salim that you will take private lessons with me on Saturday afternoons," he said softly.
Her eyes darted to him in astonishment. "Can I?"
The Professor nodded.
"Would you…" she whispered tentatively. "Would you lie for me, sir?"
"No," he replied calmly. "I do intend to give you lessons on Saturday afternoons. You're too clever for the third year curriculum."
Omegas' eyes seemed to widen until they were twice their usual size. The Professor gave her a smile that would have undoubtedly been reassuring, if it hadn't revealed a series of long, sharp teeth.
The memory ended, and Severus had no doubt that it was one of Omegas' happiest. She had spoken of Professor Zakoten as if he were some sort of deity, though she had never mentioned his appearance.
He liked that memory enough to be persuaded into watching a few more from the Durmstrang phase. Most of them were about the private lessons she had had with the Professor since that day; until, on the 5th of May, 1983, Severus came across a memory of Omegas and a girl slightly shorter than her, with blonde, long hair and a black uniform, kissing with a certain intensity in an empty classroom.
He exited the memory without finishing it, mild disgust etched on his face, and did the same with the next one, in which she and a red-haired boy in a golden uniform were exchanging rather passionate affection under the shade of a large snow-covered tree, on the 14th of November, 1984.
Finally, Severus decided to move on. After the Durmstrang phase there should have been the six-year gap he had seen a glimpse of that night; the only part of her life that remained an absolute mystery. Severus turned the page and read. It was dated 2nd November 1991. He pulled the silver thread.
He saw an Omegas almost identical to the one he had met the night she saved his life, with her black bag on her shoulder and the same purple dress. She was walking along a long stretch of sand, very different from the one he had seen when he had read her mind: it was dry and there was no sign of laughter or relaxed atmosphere. He saw her place the bag at her feet, pick up her wand and look around cautiously.
Suddenly, a green spark almost hit her from behind, but she turned in time to deflect it. In the distance, on that stretch of sand, a hooded figure was approaching ominously.
Omegas smirked. "Here you are," she murmured.
A fierce duel of curses and Shield Charms began, which both the figure and the woman faced with a surprising glee.
Severus emerged from the memory. There was a mistake. That was surely one of the journeys Omegas had taken immediately after her absence from the Wizarding World, which meant that the six-year gap was still a gap. He flipped back through the pages and checked; the previous one was dated 1st June 1985. He flipped again and again, until he realised that, although the two were almost stuck together, there was one hidden between them.
He separated them delicately; he definitely didn't want to risk her noticing that he'd poked his nose in. Between the two, there was a thin page, the most battered in the entire book. A single silver bookmark, much brighter than the others, lay on it as a bookmark. It must have been pulled countless times. There was no date, no place, no time, no indication of any kind on the page. There was a single, tiny letter in the middle.
J
It had to be something. Something important enough for that woman, so obsessively organised, to suddenly lose the desire to catalogue, mark and classify. A single silvery thread for a six-year gap. Severus pulled it.
Omegas was sitting, her legs moving impatiently up and down just like they had as she sat on the Hogwarts Express for the first time. A large suitcase lay at her feet, and there was no sign of velvet bags on her shoulders.
Severus realised soon that she was at a muggle airport; he followed her gaze to find it fixed on the departure board. It was only moments later that he noticed a familiar-looking boy sitting next to her. He had dark skin, a small nose and curly black hair. He was undoubtedly the boy he had seen in her mind. From time to time he gave her a nervous look, filled with what could only be described as poorly concealed desire. Finally, after glancing at the label on Omegas' luggage, the boy found the courage to speak.
"Liverpool?"
She turned to him giving clear indication of not having noticed him until that moment. She smiled and nodded.
"Me too," he said. He paused and fumbled with his sleeve for a few moments. "Work or vacation?"
"Hm?" she murmured absently.
"Are you… are you a tourist? Or are you on a business trip?"
She gave him one of her trademark mysterious smiles.
"Neither," she replied softly.
He frowned. "Sorry?"
"I chose the destination at random."
The boy seemed impressed.
The memory changed; the two of them were now sitting on the plane that would take them to Liverpool. Omegas sat a few rows in front of the boy, reading a large red-covered book. Once in a while, he would lean over the seat to glance at her, only to turn sharply when he realised her eyes had darted on his. She hid a smile behind the pages of her book.
A few moments later, the plane landed. Omegas reached the door dragging her luggage to find the boy offering a hand to help her. She raised an eyebrow, looked him up and down and lifted her suitcase effortlessly. He chuckled and shook his head. Once she was down, he smiled and offered his hand again.
"Jay."
She stared at it for a moment, then decided to take it. "Omegas."
He seemed impressed again.
"That's an odd name," he remarked. "Just like its owner."
Omegas replied with a single, slow, cunning smile.
The memory changed again; they were making out in a dark room. Severus looked away in a gesture so sharp his neck hurt. He immediately tried to leave the memory, but it wouldn't let him. He tried and tried again. Nothing. The two continued to kiss behind him with increasing passion.
He felt the urge to throw up. He kept trying to get back to his armchair, but finally concluded that the memory was enchanted to force him to see it through to the end. Unable to do anything but wait, he wondered why that choice had been made. Perhaps it was to avoid being distracted and to concentrate fully on the long silver thread. Yes, it must be. After all, she was the one who used Isolation Charms to avoid being disturbed.
Severus hoped with all his heart that the torment would soon end, but his wish was not granted. The two rolled around in at least a dozen different beds for what seemed like hours. When they finally stopped, the memory changed again.
The boy named Jay was on stage, guitar in hand, singing. The song was about pills that make you larger and others that make you small[3]; a bizarre song for a muggle, Severus thought. He looked around and saw a small crowd of people under the wooden stage. Some were singing, some were dancing, and some did not seem to care. Omegas, squeezed into a corner of the room, looked like she was about to throw up.
The song ended. Jay stepped off the stage, took her hand and dragged her up. She turned a greenish colour.
"I don't want to do this anymore, Jay," she trembled.
"It'll be all right, Om. Come on!"
Two chairs had been placed on the stage, side by side. On the right was the boy, cheerfully settling his guitar in hand. On the left was a sweaty, pale Omegas with a microphone in front of her. She approached it and it emitted an annoying squeal.
"So, uh…" she murmured. "Hello. This song—"
A lump in her throat forced her to pause. She coughed and inhaled deeply.
"The song is called While My Guitar Gently Weeps," she continued. "But, well… I suppose you already know that."
No one spoke; someone coughed. Then the guitar began to play, and a few moments later Omegas began to sing.
Severus had never heard anything like it. It wasn't that she was particularly in tune, just enough to be pleasant, but it was… intense. Melancholic. Sad, but in such an intimately comforting way that he felt like crying and smiling at the same time. That was definitely not a normal voice. It was…
"Magic!" exclaimed Jay as the two loaded the instruments into the back of a truck. "That was magic!"
She blushed. "It wasn't magic, Jay."
"Yeah, it was!"
"No, it wasn't," she said sharply.
They looked at each other; the boy, confused, suddenly lost his wide smile.
"All right, then," he said softly. "It wasn't."
She turned away.
The memory changed. They were lying on a meadow, side by side. The boy pointed to the dark sky above them.
"Is that Mars?"
She giggled. "That's Venus."
He huffed. "How on earth can you tell them apart?"
"I told you," she replied quietly. "I studied Astronomy."
He frowned slightly and turned to her. "What school did you say you went to?"
She gave yet another one of her cryptic smiles. They locked eyes for a while, then suddenly the boy pulled his hand back.
"Aw!" he cried softly. "What the—"
He turned to see what was beside him and smiled.
"Oh, hello, little one," he murmured.
He picked up a small hedgehog from the ground as it drew back its pointed nose. He held it in front of them.
"Let's take him home," he suggested.
She looked at him as if he was crazy. "We're not taking it home, Jay," she said firmly. "It would suffer. Let it be free."
Jay seemed a little disappointed, but didn't argue.
There was a quiet pause; then Omegas giggled.
"What?" he asked, chuckling in turn.
"It looks a bit like you," she noted.
He glanced at it, then at her. They both laughed, while in Severus' mind the mystery of Omegas' Patronus ceased to be such.
There was another change. The two were in a white room with no furniture and dozens of boxes on the floor. They were both busy with taking objects out of the boxes and place them on a nearby bookshelf. Omegas placed a set of books on it, then shook it slightly.
"Are you sure you put it together properly?" she asked. "It's wobbly."
"Of course it's wobbly if you shake it," Jay replied.
She shot him a sceptical look. She turned and started fiddling with a nearby box.
Meanwhile, Jay looked disdainfully at one of the vases on the top shelf. He made a sound of annoyance, approached the bookshelf and climbed onto one of the lower shelves to reach it. As soon as he did, it started to give way. He flinched and let out a shriek of terror. Omegas turned quickly, just in time to see the bookshelf collapse completely and fall on him. She drew her wand in a movement so quick that Severus didn't even notice it. She waved it, muttered a spell, and the bookshelf stopped in mid air.
Jay, who had closed his eyes to brace himself for the impact, slowly opened them. He fixed them on the sight before him and his jaw dropped. He slowly moved out of the bookshelf's path, circling it a few times in amazement. He turned to face Omegas, who stood paralysed, wide-eyed and with her wand still in the air like a bizarre statue.
"Am I… am I dead?" he mumbled.
She closed her eyes and sighed in resignation.
And there she was, explaining everything to the boy: who she was, where she came from, but most importantly, what she was. She told him about the Wizarding World, about Hogwarts, about Durmstrang, about Professor Zakoten, even about her two friends, Kat and Ivan, but she never mentioned her father. He listened in silence, astonished, dumbfounded. The conversation lasted most of the night; when she finished, he fell silent for a long time.
"So… is this why your remedies for colds, or hangovers, or whatever, work so well?"
She nodded quietly.
"I see…" he muttered.
He seemed confused, vaguely frightened.
"And… is this why you're always so… cold?"
Omegas frowned. "Cold?"
"Yeah, you know what I mean," he said, getting up and starting to walk around the room.
She did not seem to know. "When am I 'cold'?"
"All the time," he replied. He sounded as though he had been waiting a long time for the right moment to say those words. "With our friends, with me, with my family. You just seem… distant. You keep to yourself, you know. You're aloof. Is that why? Because we're not like you?"
She stood up abruptly. "Absolutely not, Jay," she said firmly.
"Then why?"
She gave it a thought, then shrugged. "I'm not very sociable, that's all. I've never been. It's nothing new."
He huffed and sat back on the sofa. "That's not it. You're not just cold with them, you're cold with me too."
"That's not true!" she objected.
"Yes, it is, Om!" he retorted. "Sometimes I feel you don't even like me. You don't look at me, you don't even, I don't know… say something nice to me."
She pulled a confused grimace. "Why, do you?"
"Of course I do!" he exclaimed. "I tell you you're beautiful all the bloody time!"
She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "Well, that's hardly a compliment."
He frowned. "How on earth is that not a compliment?" he snapped.
She sighed in irritation. She sat down beside him again and took on the air of someone explaining to a child that two plus two equals four.
"Beauty is a stupid and completely arbitrary concept, based on the physical characteristics one is more or less accustomed to seeing," she said flatly. "You tell me I'm beautiful, and all I hear is, 'Wow, do you know you have an extraordinarily common face?'"
Jay, nose wrinkled in astonishment, stared at her and blinked rapidly. He seemed to try to stammer something in response, but eventually gave up. He sighed, turned to her and took her hands.
"Promise me you don't miss your world."
She held his gaze and swallowed thickly. "I promise."
Jay believed her and smiled gently at her. Severus knew immediately that it was a lie.
The memory changed. The two of them were sitting on the same sofa, side by side. In front of them was a small television, and on the table were two large bowls of popcorn, untouched. Jay glanced back and forth from the screen to her face, every time with a hint more sombreness in his gaze. She noticed and pretended not to at least five times, before she stood up with a huff and turned off the TV.
"Are you going to tell me what's going on?"
He shrugged. "It's nothing."
She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. She looked like she was making an effort not to punch him.
"Jay, either you tell me what the hell is going on with you or you don't," she snapped. "But you need to stop looking at me like that, because I can't stand it."
He looked at her tentatively, sighed and gestured for her to sit down beside him. She complied.
"Are you… are you happy?" he asked softly.
She frowned. She clearly had not expected that question.
"What… what kind of question is that?"
"It's a question, Om. A simple question, and I'd want you to give me a simple answer, not like you usually do."
Omegas stared at him quietly for a few moments. Her expression slowly shifted from irritated, to vaguely guilty, to completely blank.
"Yes," she said. "Can I turn the TV back on now?"
Jay looked up and down her face. He nodded.
The two of them continued to watch the TV in silence, and the boy kept throwing sad looks at her. She kept pretending not to notice.
Then the memory changed again. They were in a dark room once more, and for a brief moment Severus feared they might start making out again. It only took a moment for him to realise that wasn't the case.
Omegas was lying on her side, fast asleep. Beside her, Jay was wide awake, curled up on his side of the bed. He was crying. Omegas woke as the boy's sobs grew louder. She turned to face him, hesitated, then placed a hand on his back.
"It's okay, Jay," she said softly. "It's okay."
Jay didn't stop crying. He cried and cried, and when the memory shifted again and they were back in the dark room, he was still crying.
"It's okay, Jay," she repeated.
But he didn't stop. He cried for hours, for days, for weeks. He cried until the scene became so heartbreakingly pathetic that Severus felt the urge to cover his ears and close his eyes. Then understanding hit him—horrible, overwhelming. Omegas hadn't enchanted those memories to avoid being distracted. She had done it to force herself to watch to the end. She had done it to torture herself.
The boy kept crying, and she kept turning around, trying to comfort him, until one night, in that same dark room, Omegas was awakened by Jay's strangled moans. But she stayed still. She listened to his cries in silence and did nothing.
Finally, Jay's torment ended. Omegas crossed the threshold of a door; the boy behind her held his hands over her eyes and led her to a finely set table with a bouquet of fresh flowers in the middle. He lifted his hands and smiled widely.
"Ta-da!"
Omegas eyed the table confusedly. She turned to him and studied him carefully. Then she smiled.
They sat down and ate. Jay didn't stop talking for a moment, but Severus couldn't make out a word he said. His words flew away, unintelligible, tangled together. Omegas, at the other end of the table, clearly wasn't listening to him. She stared at him with empty eyes and a resigned air, as if she were accustomed to passively enduring that incessant stream of words.
The boy suddenly cleared his throat and she snapped back to attention.
"Well, I think you know where I'm going with this," he murmured, his voice trembling slightly.
She frowned in confusion. He cleared his throat again and rubbed his hands on his jeans. Standing up cautiously, he circled the table and knelt before her. She widened her eyes and paled visibly. Jay reached his pocket and took out a small red box. He opened it to reveal a small diamond ring.
"Omegas Sylith," he mumbled. "Would you—"
She stood up abruptly. She took a few steps back as one would do when in front of a dangerous hungry animal.
"No," she said firmly.
Jay seemed paralysed. He held her horrified gaze and slowly shifted from confusion to sheer heartbreak.
"I… I can't," she stammered, still backing away. "I… I don't…"
"I see," he said softly.
He closed the box, stood up and returned to his chair.
"Well, we can still have dinner."
She swallowed. She only managed to stop stepping back when the box was no longer in sight. They remained in those exact positions, she stunned in terrified silence, he bowing his head on his half empty plate, for a painfully long time.
The memory changed one last time. Omegas, for the first time with her usual dark circles under her eyes, was walking down a quiet street with two large paper bags in her hands. She kept going for a while, then turned a corner and frowned. Severus followed her gaze: two cars, which must have been those of the Muggle Law Enforcement—he knew them, for throughout his childhood it had happen they had to knock at his house because of his father—were parked outside an apartment door. She approached cautiously. She didn't seem worried; she seemed almost intrigued by the unusual sight. Outside one of cars were a middle-aged man and a woman slightly older than him, and around them was a small crowd of people. Severus studied them. Someone among them was crying.
"Please," the woman said. "Please, there's nothing to see. Move on, move on!"
Omegas walked up to the man, the two shopping bags in her arms, and stood in front of him. He looked her up and down.
"Miss, you need to move along," he said brusquely. "You can't be here."
She raised an eyebrow and returned his look with a touch of defiance.
"Can't I? I live here," she said, pointing to the small green door beyond the cars.
The man turned to look at the building. The irritated grimace on his face change quickly into clear anxiety. He paled as he returned her gaze once again, and swallowed audibly.
"What floor?" he asked in a breath.
Omegas frowned, and so did Severus. He raised his head to look at the windows of the building. The one at the fifth floor was wide open.
"Excuse me?" she asked, still clearly annoyed.
"What floor do you live in?" he repeated.
Omegas narrowed her eyes in confusion. She lifted her head and let her eyes wander to the open window.
When she saw it, it was as if her face suddenly lost all colour. The bags fell from her hands, spilling their contents onto the sidewalk. She let out a scream loud and painful enough for the onlookers around to suddenly feel the need to avert their gaze. She rushed towards the man, but he wouldn't let her pass. He held her tightly in his arms as she kicked, struggled and cried to let her go until she lost her voice.
Severus approached slowly. He lifted his head slightly above the police cars and saw it: Jay's lifeless body lay on the tarmac in a pool of blood.
Omegas continued to scream, pounding her fists on the man's back for what seemed like an eternity; surely she must have perceived it that way, and those, after all, were her memories.
When that eternity had passed, she collapsed to the ground, the man's arms still tightly wrapped around her. She seemed to have exhausted the strength she would have needed to cry. She kept her empty eyes fixed right in front of her and muttered three barely audible words.
"I did it."
The memory ended.
Severus returned to his armchair, breathing as if he hadn't been able to for the past half hour. Still panting, he stared at an undefined point in front of him, exactly as she had done in that last memory, for at least ten minutes.
Then, slowly, he raised a hand to his face and realised he was crying. He glanced at the tears on his fingers, then shot a look of sheer disgust at the book in his hands. He threw it onto the table in front of him with a force he was not accustomed to using on anything. He raised from his armchair and paced before the sleeping woman for a long, restless time.
Why had he done it? Why had he given in to his damned curiosity? How long would the images he had just seen torture him? He turned to look at her and the faint smile on her resting face. How long would they torture her?
Severus knew the answer. Always.
He felt the urge to scream in rage and give in to a desperate cry at the same time. He closed his eyes and kept them closed for a while, then took a deep breath. Returning to the table, he gently took the small black leather-bound book and put it back into Omegas' bag. He took a few steps forward and lingered a moment more on her. How was it even possible for her to sleep?
He remembered his Sleeping Draught and decided that it was the only way he could get some sleep himself. The only way to stop thinking. He grabbed the dark glass bottle and thought about drinking the entire contents in one gulp. It was only when he had uncorked it that he remembered that there would be a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix the next day.
For a moment he had lived in a world where nothing was relevant: neither Voldemort, nor Harry Potter, nor the Horcruxes, nor the magical war he was in the middle of. Nothing had any meaning anymore.
He closed the bottle, deciding to take just a few drops later. He took a step towards his bedroom, but stopped in front of the armchair. He took one last look at the sleeping woman, then looked away. Looking at her hurt him. He took his wand and waved it, transfiguring the armchair she was curled up in into a bed. He heard her sigh and turn over in the sheets, but he didn't look at her. He turned and walked quickly to the door of his room.
He wasn't sure if he would ever be able to look at her again.
[1] Professor Zakoten's appearance is partly based on 1922 Nosferatu by Murnau. The only real reason for that is that I really like Nosferatu. And old movies. And Professor Zakoten.
[2] His voice, as well as a considerable part of his entire character, were inspired by the song "Nevermind" by Leonard Cohen.
[3] The song he is singing here is "White Rabbit" by Jefferson Airplane.