After his newest round of sniping with Draco in his journal, Severus had set off to replenish the supplies he was leaving in the forest for Bellatrix.
The truth was, he needed some time and distance to think. Was Draco right? Was he that blind? That heartless?
Well, yes, he almost certainly was.
He knew Draco had nightmares and flashbacks to the war. Who didn't? Apparently, he'd been mistaken in thinking that it had been all about the Dark Lord and Fenrir Greyback and so on. After all, Bellatrix had taught Draco Legilimency. Draco had been quite matey with her in his sixth year at Hogwarts.
What then? It didn't change anything. He was used to fucking up every good thing that came in his way and used to doing his duty no matter what. In this instance, he truly believed that his duty was aiding a frightened young girl whom no one else would give a fuck if she froze to death in the forest.
Every time he left food or clothing for her, he knew he was widening the divide between himself and Draco; yet still he made a conscious choice to do that which no one else would do.
And smother his grief over Draco's loss with all the rest.
With these morose thoughts in his head, he trudged through the foothills of the mountains where he'd been leaving the packages. They were gone each day, so he had to assume she was finding them.
Was he really less compassionate than James fucking Potter? Well, he had to remember that James was a Gryffindor and would loathe anyone if he were told they'd used 'dark magic' often enough. Bastard. Of course he'd side with Draco against Bellatrix. Harry, though - Severus suspected it was more Harry being too fucking neutral to properly take either side.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Dead would really, really be easier to deal with than this mess, even if the fiery pits of Hell from his father's religion were true.
The thought of fire seemed to summon it. Or rather, he caught the flickering light characteristic of fire as he rounded a bend in the path.
There, sitting as though she were having a pleasant little cook-out, was Bellatrix, looking much the worse for her week-long sojourn in the woods.
"Well. Fancy meeting you here. I rather thought you might be trying to meld with the trees to become a dryad."
He flicked his wand to cast a warming charm - he was too bloody old to sit on the cold ground in the bitter chill of a Scottish autumn - and folded himself cross-legged by her fire.
"Are you coming back to the village then? Why did you leave?"