Vale stared at Snape, the Potions Master's sharp features slicing through the tension in the room. He remained still, his mind racing.
Snapes words weighed upon him.
His instincts warned for caution, yet a flicker of intrigue ignited within him. Here was someone who understood darkness—someone who might see past the surface of what he was.
"…Why?" Vale finally asked, now only half-feigning his curiosity. "What do you want with me?"
Snape's lips twisted into something that could only be described as a smirk.
…Though it lacked any warmth.
"There's no need for you to know."
Before Vale could respond, Nurse Nora returned, her hands bearing the glass of water which the former had requested.
After giving Snape a small smile, she placed the glass down on Vale's bedside.
"Is your patient ready for discharge?" Snape queried sharply, his gaze still locked onto Vale.
At some point, the silencing effect had disappeared.
"Yes! Just waiting on final clearance," she replied while scribbling notes on her clipboard. "He's stable enough for release."
As Nora prepared Vale for departure—removing wires and checking vital signs—Vale felt Snape's scrutiny never waver.
The Potions Master stood like a shadow against the fluorescent light, observing every movement with an intensity that made Vale acutely aware of himself.
Minutes passed before Nora stepped back, her smile unnervingly wide as she adjusted her glasses.
"All set! Just sign here," she instructed, pointing to a line at the bottom of a form.
Vale took the pen and signed quickly, conscious of Snape watching closely, still full of himself as he acted out his façade. The weight of being scrutinised felt oddly familiar; it was something he had grown used to in his life before this one.
"Let's go," Snape commanded as soon as Vale finished signing.
The Potions Master turned sharply on his heel and led the way out of the ward.
Vale followed behind like an unmoored ship navigating turbulent waters, every instinct warning him to keep his guard up around this man whose aura buzzed with latent power and secrets.
Secrets he was all-too familiar with.
They moved through aging corridors filled with muted conversations and the persistent scent of antiseptic until they reached an exit door leading into an enclosed courtyard outside.
'Ugh,'
The sunlight streamed down harshly, forcing Vale to squint against its brightness as they stepped into the open air.
"…?"
His gaze drifted. A quaint sight crafted from the outskirts of the English village was all that was there to see, looming beyond the hedge-laden stone walls.
Vale's apparent confusion only deepened with Snape's next actions. Inside, he already had a premonition as to what was going to happen.
Indeed…
A hand fell on Vale's shoulder.
The world then dissolved around him.
The harsh sunlight and the cloying smell of antiseptic vanished, replaced by the earthy scent of damp earth and something akin to lavender.
Filled with a disquieting spin, Vale found himself dumped unceremoniously onto uneven ground. He landed hard, feeling his head bounce against something solid.
He scrambled upright, blinking against the sudden brightness.
Sunlight streamed through the foliage of towering trees, dappling the mossy floor of a remote clearing. The air hung thick with mist, and the shattered remnants of a forgotten cottage, a crumbling image of lost magic, stood at the edge of the clearing.
"Where…?"
Vale started to ask, but Snape cut him off.
"Thistlecroft Hollow."
Pain shot through Vale's side as he finally registered where he'd landed on and grimaced. The expanse of his own back pressed into an uneven stone surface.
He struggled to his feet, ignoring the bite of annoyance against his ribs.
The silence of this place was quite… profound, a physical pressure that wrapped around Vale like an invisible cloak.
"…"
Wordlessly, Snape strode towards the dilapidated cottage, his black robes billowing around him like smoke. He didn't look back, and Vale was forced to follow, drawing in a deep breath of damp air.
They then entered a small, oddly warm room, smelling strongly of dried herbs washed with violet flames.
He saw medicine bottles lined up on shelves, a potion bubbling in a large cauldron, and an ancient, intricately carved book lay open on a table, swirling glyphs floating over its pages.
Suddenly, Vale missed his family.
The sense of oppression had settled on his skin. It was clear that his freedom was going to be restricted.
"…Shit,"
His façade nearly crumbled.
Vale watched as Snape inspected the cottage with the precision of a hawk, his dark eyes scanning the room with clear intensity.
Every flicker of movement—every creak of the old floorboards beneath Snape's weight—made it clear that Vale was going to be trapped for a while.
"Stay here," Snape commanded, his voice a cold whisper that echoed against the stone walls. "This will be your sanctuary for now."
Vale clenched his fists, barely suppressing a swell of frustration.
'A sanctuary?'
The word would feel foreign in his mouth, more like a prison than any place of refuge.
Snape turned towards him, one eyebrow raised, as if he sensed Vale's unrest.
"You'll find food in the cupboard. There are potions for pain relief on the shelf," he gestured vaguely, then resumed his examination of the cauldron bubbling softly in the corner.
Vale swallowed hard, appearing frustrated before Snape's blatant display of power. He glanced around the room, taking note of every detail—the assortment of potion ingredients lining dusty shelves and the comforting glow from Bluebell Flames dancing in the fireplace.
"Do not venture outside unless absolutely necessary."
Snape's tone remained clipped as he continued to check various cabinets and drawers without looking at Vale directly.
"The surroundings aren't for the faint of heart."
A jolt coursed through Vale at that remark.
'Sadistic bastards,' he thought.
He had no intention of giving Snape any more reason to distrust him; he was already too aware of how quickly suspicion could spiral out of control.
"What if I—"
Having to act like an 11-year-old child was growing to be quite annoying now.
"Follow my instructions."
Snape cut him off sharply, finally fixing Vale with a steely gaze that sent an involuntary shiver down his spine.
"If you lose control… it won't end well for you."
With that warning hanging thick in the air, Snape strode towards a door leading to another room and disappeared inside without another word.
Vale stood alone in the dim light, absorbing the weight of silence settling around him once more.
'What a twist,' he thought, taking a deep breath and leaning against one of the rough-hewn beams supporting the ceiling and feeling its solidity anchor him amidst uncertainty.
An eerie quietude enveloped Vale once again—a soft hum resonating within his thoughts as he began to ponder.
'It's clear that this place was made to hold an Obscurial like me. Safe to assume, it's most likely that my state has been discovered.'
Vale inwardly sighed, conscious of any hidden observers. His outward demeanour still danced to the tune of a troubled child.
'Now, I have to play the part of naïveté… Or somehow make Dumbledore think that he made the wrong assumption.'
To deceive the greatest wizard of this century was a tall but necessary tale.
'But before I can even act these things out… I need to gather definite information.'
Every card he had on hand was illusory.
Built on sand and assumptions.