#Severus Snape/oc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

july-jackson · 2 years

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The Potion Master's Assistant.

As a young Death Eater and one of Voldemort’s most trusted, Severus finds himself with less time for his potion brewing duties. So the Dark Lord has allowed him to choose an assistant, and he knows just who to pick.

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Chapter One.

There wasn’t much Circe Whitlock could remember about the night she was taken. She could remember the bitingly cold air, the crunch of the snow under her feet, the plumes of vapour that escaped her mouth with each hurried breath. There was no warning of an attack, nor had she seen her attacker, there was only the sudden jolt as her body was tightly bound by invisible forces. Everything after that had been a blur, the shadow of a cloaked witch or wizard had passed across her face, a glimpse of dark hair. Her lips were parted by unseen fingers, a sweet liquid poured slowly into her mouth, the scent of lavender invaded her nostrils.

Now Circe found herself in a dark room, bound at the wrist and ankles, her red hair was tangled across her face. She struggled against the restraints; her head still fuzzy from the potion induced sleep. Her weak cries for help were muffled against the rag that sat firmly between her lips. There wasn’t enough light to figure out where she was exactly, but she knew she was on a bed. Thin voiles were draped around the thick wooden posts of the bed, partially obscuring her view of the room, the only illumination came from the silvery moonlight through an uncovered window. Circe thrashed around fruitlessly, throwing herself back against the pillows, breathless and full of fury.

“There’s no point in struggling,” the low, steady voice of a man came from a dark corner of the room.

Circe bolted upright on the bed, scanning the room for any sign of the mystery speaker. She tried to ask what they wanted with her, but her voice was dulled against the cloth.

“Your only hope of getting out of those ropes lies solely with me. I suggest you don’t try to resist me or cause a scene.”

Circe mumbled incoherent obscenities through the rag, looking around the room wildly to find her captor.

“That’s no way to behave, I’m offering you a chance to be free of your restraints. But... you must comply with the conditions I am about to give you, does that seem agreeable?”

Circe sighed and hung her head, her brown eyes downcast. She gave the briefest of nods.

“You will not scream, you will not fight me, you will not run. If I ask you to do something, you will do it without hesitation. You are not to speak unless spoken to. Do you agree with these conditions?”

Circe knew that her best chance of getting away was to agree with whatever was asked of her. She would play along, for now.

“Mmhmm,” Circe mumbled.

“Good. I’m going to come and untie you now. Remember what I just said.”

She sat upright and as still as possible as she heard him approach the bed, her breaths came hard and fast through her nose. He began to loosen the knots, excruciatingly slowly, as if he were expecting her to bolt at any moment. The thought had crossed her mind but now was not the time to try to run.

Circe felt a flood of relief as her wrists were finally freed from the tight ropes, wincing as she rubbed over the red skin where the rope had grazed her flesh. There was a moment of silence before she heard him move round to the edge of the bed where her feet were. He untied the knots faster this time, seemingly satisfied that she wouldn’t do anything foolish.

She could just make out his pale skin, his dark hair hung around his face as he continued removing the rope from around her ankles. There was a slight pause as the rope fell to the floor, a beat of uncertain silence before he raised his head to look at her. Circe had no hope of disguising the look of recognition on her face, his own expression told her that he’d already seen.

“Do you know who I am?” he drawls.

Circe gave a curt nod, “Yes, you’re Severus Snape. We were at Hogwarts together.”

“Then you’ll know that I currently serve The Dark Lord. I am his most valued follower and therefore I have been given certain freedoms. You are talented in the art of potion brewing, are you not?”

“I... I guess.”

He pursed his lips and exhaled sharply out of his nose, “You will have the chance to demonstrate your abilities to me. Do you have any questions?”

“Why am I here? Why did you take me?”

Severus folded his arms across his chest, his wand nestled tightly in the grip of one hand, “The Dark Lord continues to grow in power, his reach spreads further by the day. I find myself with less time to devote to potions. Voldemort has agreed to my request for someone to help me. Being that most of his followers lack a decent foundation in potion making skills, it was necessary for me to look beyond The Dark Lord’s trusted supporters.”

“That doesn’t explain why you chose me.”

“I remember your proficiency in Potions classes, you’re also a pureblood witch.”

“But-”

Severus raised one hand quickly to silence her, “No more questions, follow me.”

He held his wand out, ushering Circe out of the door and past the two Death Eaters standing guard. A dim yellow glow filled the hallway, emanating from candles burning in stone alcoves and above her head on ornate chandeliers. She shuffled across a long red rug that covered the stone floor; Severus was already stood at another door waiting for her.

“Enter,” he demanded tersely, pushing the large wooden door open to reveal a large stone room.

At the centre was a round and sturdy, oak wood table, its surface occupied by cauldrons of various sizes. Every wall was filled with shelves that held row upon row of vials and jars of ingredients.

“I would like you to brew me a Draught of Living Death.”

“Right now?” Circe asked, a surge of anxiety gripped her chest.

Severus flicked his wand towards the wall to his left, igniting a pile of logs in the fireplace, “Yes, right now. Everything you need is here in this room. Do not try anything, I will be watching you closely.”

He perched himself on the edge of a leather armchair beside the fire, his face was taut, a muscle twitched in his jaw as his eyes followed Circe across the room. She felt a queasy sense of unease, a cold shiver crept across her skin. As she browsed the shelves, she took the time to scan the rest of the room for any other doors or windows that she might be able to use later, but there was nothing.

“Time is of the essence,” Severus called to her, a disapproving scowl on his face.

“I’m... I’m just trying to remember the ingredients,” Circe stammered. His unrelenting gaze made her nervous.

“I didn’t say you could speak, just brew,” he forced out the last two words through clenched teeth.

Circe gathered what equipment and ingredients she thought she needed, hoping that she had remembered everything, knowing that failure would place her in more danger. She hesitated at the table as she struggled to recall the instructions, her hands fumbling with the cauldron and beakers in front of her. It came in brief flashbacks, memories of her sixth year in Hogwarts when Professor Slughorn had asked this very same task of the class.

When it was time to cut the Sopophorous beans, Circe grasped a silver dagger in her hand. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Severus hold up his wand defensively. Another flash of memory forced itself to the front of her mind, one of the dark-haired boy in the class who had silently and fervently tended to his potion. She remembered the glint of the dagger as he defied the instructions in the book, crushing the beans with the flat side of his knife. Severus was up on his feet again, circling the table as Circe pushed the blade of the dagger flat against the bean, the juice running freely from the split that appeared down the middle.

Severus had drawn closer now, even as Circe still brandished the blade in a trembling hand, his wariness replaced by a cautious curiosity. Beads of sweat had formed on Circe’s temples, despite the wintery weather outside, a combination of nerves and the heat from the flame beneath the cauldron. Severus remained close, enough that Circe could hear his unwavering breaths, his resolute calm was at odds with her own quiet dread.

She wanted to tell him to move, that his proximity was hindering her progress. Instead, she swallowed down her frustration and steadied herself with a few controlled breaths. As she stirred the potion, she scrambled about in her mind for what the correct colour should be.

Lilac! It should be Lilac... oh God, it’s not Lilac.

Severus’ hand caught her own mid-stir, “That will be all.”

“But it’s not finished,” Circe argued, her heart racing in her chest.

“You would not have succeeded, the colour was wrong,” he growled.

Circe descended into panic, she had messed up her chance. Her throat was tight, her mouth was dry, visions of Severus taking her from here and disposing of her were darting through her mind. One hand searched for the dagger on the table.

“Let me try again,” she begged.

“I don’t need you to try again, I have seen enough.”

There was no hint of his intentions in his voice, he spoke as calmly as ever, but he let go of her hand and she dropped the stirrer into the cauldron.

“I won’t let you kill me,” Circe spat, her fingers curling around the handle of the dagger.

She raised her hand as quickly as she could, aiming the point of the blade towards his eye. The firelight reflected off the silver as she lurched forward, throwing her weight behind the blade. Severus didn’t even raise his wand, he seized her wrist, directing her attack to the side of him. The knife slashed through his collar and nicked the skin of his neck, but he didn’t even flinch. He tightened his grasp on her wrist, clenching his long fingers until she dropped the blade, kicking it away from her reach.

He forced her down onto her knees before him, “I have no intention of killing you. I needed no more proof of your abilities. Your failure to brew a Draught of Living Death has no bearing on my decision, I just needed to see you work.”

Circe glared up at him, her cheeks flushed with anger, her breath felt hot on her lips.

“You will work for me. But if you ever try anything like that again, then I will kill you. You are nothing to me, you are beneath me. The next time you are in this room, I will have the Carrows keep a watchful eye, and they are not as forgiving as I am!” the venom in his voice was marked.

Circe held her tongue and clenched her jaw, she fixed her eyes upon the floor, anything she had to say to him would only anger him further.

Severus dabbed a hand at the small cut on his neck, “If you play nicely, there might be room for a pure-blood witch, such as yourself, amongst the ranks of the Dark Lord’s elite. I can make that happen for you. You would be... untouchable.”

Circe stayed silent, not only out of fear but also out of disbelief at his words. He genuinely thought that he could bring her into the Death Eaters, if she ‘played nicely’. She almost scoffed out loud at his proposal, even if she managed to fool him into thinking that she was a dutiful assistant, she would never want to be a part of Voldemort’s plans.

“I think it’s time you went back to your room,” he spoke softly and slowly, far too calmly for a man who’d just been threatened with a knife, “Get up.”

Circe pushed herself to her feet, she still couldn’t bring herself to look at him.

He marched her back to the room, his wand at her back this time. He jabbed her continuously between her shoulder blades, each prod stung more than the last. Circe wanted to turn around and scream at him, she wanted to take his wand and jab him in his stupid face.

“Trouble with your prisoner?” said one of the men at the door, his voice was gravelly with a slight accent that Circe couldn’t place. She hadn’t really looked at him on the way out, he was tall and thin with a mess of dark hair on his head and a closely trimmed beard.

“Nothing I can’t handle, Dolohov,” Severus sneered, pushing Circe through the doorway as Dolohov sniggered to himself.

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The door closed with a faint click, and Severus leant up against it. Circe turned around to face him, and shivered, the bedroom felt much colder after being in the other room.

“Cold?” he asked, one eyebrow raised above his dark eyes.

Circe didn’t answer, she sat on the bed and wrapped her arms around herself. Her blue robes were stained and scuffed, her hair was knotted. She felt uncomfortable, furious and helpless all at once, she dug her fingers into her shoulders.

“You can ignore me if you like. Or... you can go for a shower, put on some clean clothes.”

She glanced at him briefly, just enough for him to notice.

“I thought that might get your attention. There’s a bathroom in the far corner,” he pointed towards a door at the far side of the room.

Several candles in the room ignited, Circe thought that the bedroom didn’t seem so unwelcoming in the soft light, there was a warmth to it now. There was a small fireplace at the foot of the bed, a framed painting of a small white cottage covered in ivy hung above the mantle. Six small cat ornaments were perched on the mantlepiece, each one facing towards a small crystal ball housed in a brass stand in the centre. There were several dark wood sets of drawers, one wardrobe, and two side tables. The carpet was a deep blue, clean and plush, it matched the voiles hung around the bed, which was made up with crisp white bedding.

“I haven’t got all night,” Severus interrupted, motioning for her to move.

Circe moved towards the bathroom door, slowly at first, until Severus advanced in her direction. She shot him a questioning look.

“You didn’t think I was going to let you go in there alone, did you?” he said with a wry smile.

She felt the sting of tears, but she refused to cry in front of him. She opened the bathroom door, letting it swing open hard until it hit the wall.

“Try not to destroy the place,” he said from behind her, pushing her into the middle of the room, “Strip.”

Circe didn’t move, he couldn’t really be expecting her to undress in front of him, “I don’t want to.”

“I don’t care about what you want to do. I’m telling you to strip, I don’t want a filthy assistant.”

Circe still didn’t move.

Severus thrust his wand up against her neck, “Take off your clothes, or I will do it for you.”

Circe’s lip twitched and her nostrils flared, she reached up to undo the back of her dress, her hands shaking as she struggled with the small buttons. She sniffed quietly as she pulled her dress down, feeling exposed as it fell to her feet. The cold air in the bathroom made the hairs on her arms stand on end and she shivered as she stood in just her cotton underwear.

“Those too.”

A fresh wave of anger flared up in her and she locked eyes with him as she yanked off her bra and knickers. The muscles in his cheeks twitched as she stood naked before him, he didn’t move, he didn’t look away from her, Circe didn’t blink.

“Get in the shower,” he demanded.

This time she moved as soon as she was told, it was obvious to her that there was no way to defy his requests, not without putting herself at risk of punishment. She tugged the shower curtain closed and turned on the water, the heat on her skin was a welcome sensation as it washed over her face.

“You have five minutes. I’ll be right here,” he called from the other side of the curtain.

Circe didn’t care anymore, the water felt good, she felt almost normal, the shower washed away the stuffy feeling she’d had in her head since waking up on the bed. She rubbed at her skin with the soap that was on the small shower shelf, it smelled of lemon and bergamot.

“Time’s up,” Severus called again.

She obeyed and shut off the water, whipping the curtain back open again, “Thank you.”

Severus seemed taken aback at her brazenness and her gratitude, this made Circe smile inside. She would play his game, she would behave, she would do as she was told, until he trusted her enough to drop his guard. Then she would play her own game.

He held a towel out for her, which she took without question, wrapping it around herself tightly.

“There are clean clothes on the bed for you. I have been called away, but I have people right outside of your door, so I suggest you behave.”

He left her stood in bathroom as he turned on his heel and marched out, his robes billowing behind him. Before he left the bedroom, he lit a fire in the fireplace, but he didn’t say another word. Circe heard the door lock a few seconds after he closed it. She waited for a few more seconds and then ran right to the window, tugging hard at it to try and slide it open, but it was locked. She ran around the room, opening every drawer and cupboard that she could see, but all she found was a potions handbook and a hairbrush. She even tried throwing the brush at the window, but it bounced off silently. She realised that he must have enchanted the glass to be unbreakable.

She threw herself onto the bed in a fit of frustration, pounding her fists into the thick duvet. She was truly trapped, and her only way out was to become the assistant of the Death Eater Severus Snape.

#severus snape/oc #severus snape #young severus #potions #fanfic #fanfiction #death eaters #Bad Severus #snape fic #cruel snape

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threadbearao3 · 8 months

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Love will tear us apart, again on AO3

Chapter 15: Holiday Road

….maybe Stephen didn’t want to spend his life waiting around for a much older man who may or may not be that into him…

#lovewilltearusapartagain #playingwithfireao3 #severus snape #severus/sirius #Severus Snape/OC #snack au

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incorrectquotesharrypotterv · 1 year

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Y/n, whispering: you know I love you, right?

Draco: why are we whispering?

Y/n: so Harry thinks we're conspiring against him

Draco: oooh

Harry: what are they talking about?

Snape, having heard everything: murder

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aceyxyl · 2 months

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Severus Snapes hands.

#severus snape #harry potter hogwarts game #harry potter #harry james potter #albus severus potter #severus x oc #severus art #professor snape #snape fanart #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts fanfiction #slytherin #handsome

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marvel-snape-writes · 3 months

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Hi there :) could you write something on letting snape fuck you raw for the first time and he goes feral for cumming inside you 😵‍💫 pretty please!

Our Best Worst Habit

18+ smuuuuuuuuutttttttyyyy

🪄— thank you so much for this request, I hope I did it some justice! 🫶

4k+ words

His chamber was silent. His voice was silent. His mood was foul. The atmosphere was heavy. The party was over.

Severus had been sat in his desk chair since they had returned, busying himself by reading the newspaper that had been placed on it earlier in the day and the chair pushed back enough so he could hold the paper out fully in both hands in front of him. The room was quiet enough for her to be able to hear each turn of each page and his breathing as he did it.

Though he did somewhat make her weary when he was in this state, she almost enjoyed trying to entice him out of it. Cautiously, she approached him from behind and place her hands against his shoulders, brushing the material over his shoulders as she dipped her head forward and pressing a light kiss to his ear before speaking softly, “Anything exciting in there?”

Severus’ breath hitched when he felt her hands upon his shoulders and changed completely when her lips were against his ear, nostrils flaring at her question. He looked to the side of him where her head was positioned, letting out a small huff but not speaking a single word.

“Severus?” She spoke against his neck this time, brushing her lips against his skin slowly. Severus cleared his throat irritably, his grip on the newspaper now tightening and crinkling the pages slightly, “Sev…” She spoke once more, pursing her lips against him now.

Severus didn’t speak, but the way he wafted his arm in the air and glare he gave spoke a thousand words. He let out an irritated, low growl from the back of his throat when he felt her pushing her luck once more as her lips dragged against the side of his neck whilst forming into a smirk. Calmly, though suspiciously calmly, he closed the paper and folded it in half, placing it on the desk a few inches in front of him. Silently, he raised the same arm as before but clicked his finger and thumb together this time before pointing his large index finger at the space in front of him between the chair and desk, still not saying anything.

Her breath hitched from his soundless command, standing up straight and standing where he was still pointing. Once in front of him, he lowered his hand and began taking his time devouring her body with his eyes. His lip twitched and the room remained quiet enough to just hear their breathing. His lips then began to part, their eyes meeting briefly before he snapped out of his trance as if he was suddenly reminded of a bad memory.

“Are you going to tell me why you are being so cold?” She asked, leaning back against his desk on her hands and tilting her head to the side with a cocky expression as his eyes flickered up to hers again, “What’s the matter, Severus?”

“Must you displease me all evening and then continue to do so once back in my chamber?” Severus finally spoke, though in a flat tone.

“I’m sorry?” She asked with a confused expression.

“Do not play dumb with me, Miss Eleanor,” Severus glared, “The way you behaved tonight was insufferable,” He spat, his following words lower, “With that boy.”

“Boy?” Eleanor squinted her eyes for a few moments before realising who he meant, “Oh, you mean Noah? He’s not a boy, he’s older than me!” Eleanor protested, already aware of her and Severus’ larger age difference.

“Do not speak his name in my chamber!” Severus’ usual tone raised slightly, gritting his teeth, “That boy wouldn't know the first thing to do with you.”

Eleanor rolled her eyes from his words and hopped up onto his desk, dangling her legs over the edge as he continued to ramble;

“Flicking his eyes where they were not wanted, placing his hands where they should not have been, if I really must think back to the horrific event.” He spoke in a disgusted tone, the pale glare still on his face.

“Horrific event? Really?” Eleanor rolled her eyes but Severus’ face didn't budge so she tried to continue pushing his buttons, “Anyway, who's to say that his eyes or hands weren't wanted?”

She got him. She knew when he was almost at his limit because he wouldn't shoot his sharp tongue like usual; instead, he would say nothing while his lips twitched madly as if struggling to contain all that he wanted to say in his mouth. Eleanor narrowed her eyes and discreetly parted her legs as she shuffled a little further forward to the edge of the table and discreetly enjoyed the brief moment Severus’ eyes fell to the hem of her short dress as her legs parted.

“Hm?” She smirked, now pressing her knees together as her eyes remained on him.

“That is one of the problems that were presented to me…” He cleared his throat, swallowing hard, “I was starting to think you liked him, too.”

“Yeah?” She bit her lip and reached her foot forward, placing it on the chair Severus was sat on, against the bare part from the way his legs naturally parted when he was sat… against the part of the chair that was just beneath his crotch, “You think I've taken a liking to Noah?”

“Don't you speak his name in my chamber.” He snapped, trying with every muscle in his body not to glance down at her foot, “I will not warn you again.”

“Why, hm?” She raised her eyebrows with a devilish grin, lightly pressing the tip of her shoe against his crotch, “Are you jealous, Severus?”

His jaw clenched when he felt the strange contact against his crotch and felt like a boiling kettle when he heard her question, as if steam was about to come out of his ears. He exhaled slowly and slouched a further into his chair, making her foot ride up his crotch a little further.

“I could crush you right now.” She spoke the threat in a stupidly seductive tone, teasing her heel against his crotch and lightly nudging it to emphasise each word, “Are. You. Jealous. Severus?”

He tried his best not to let any reaction show or sound pass his lips, but it only lasted a few seconds before his lips parted and let out a soft whine, narrowing his eyebrows.

“So, that's why you've been so off with me tonight?” She asked, continuing to rock her foot against his crotch and now placing her other foot on one of his thighs to keep them parted, “Giving me the silent treatment because you were jealous of me paying attention to some other guy?”

Severus’ nostrils flared and he finally snapped, pushing her feet away and standing up as he spoke, “Listen to me,” He was towering over her now as she leaned back on her hands again, “Are you listening?” He looked down at her with a dark expression.

“Oh, I am listening…” Eleanor bit her lip sensually, gazing up at him.

“If this thing is going to work-”

“’Thing’, hm?” She scoffed until she was cut off by him pushing his face closer to hers.

“Silence while I am speaking,” He spat bluntly, “If whatever is going on between us is to continue, I need you to myself again. No ifs, no buts, I need you to all to myself.”

“Are you pleading with me, Professor Snape?” She smirked, sliding her hands up his chest and onto his shoulders, “I must be yours?” She squinted her eyes, “Despite us only fooling around?”

“Mine and only mine.” He growled, leaning down a little further as he placed his hands against the desk at either side of her.

“Or… what?” She dared to ask, able to feel his breathing against her lips now.

“Trust me… you don't want to know.” He spoke lowly and slowly, their lips only centimetres apart.

“That’s a little possessive, don't you think?” She spoke as close to his lips as possible without kissing him.

“Quite frankly, my dear,” He spoke quietly but firmly, “I don't give a fuck.”

The minute he got to the end of his sentence, their lips were pressed against each other. Eleanor whimpered from the harshness of it and Severus moved closer to his desk, grinning against her lips when her legs parted to either side of him. It wasn't long before the kiss grew deeper, Eleanor’s hands now in his hair as she kissed him urgently, desperately. Severus cupped her face in one of his large hands and tilted his head, grunting into the kiss as the tips of their tongues touched.

“Does jealousy make you horny, Severus?” She teased against his lips, giggling.

“Do not be absurd…” He mumbled, kissing her harder as if punishment for the question.

“You can't deny that someone preoccupying what's yours turns you on…” She played with his hair while they kissed in between her speaking, “Is it because you're already picturing what punishment you're going to give me, hm?”

“Jealousy does not turn me on.” Severus grunted, parting the kiss with a heavy sigh as he glared down at her.

“Oh, yeah?” She bit her lip once he pulled back, glancing between them and then back up at him, “You might want to try telling your cock that.”

“Your tongue is almost growing as sharp as mine, Miss Eleanor.” He sucked in a breath through his clenched teeth.

“At least it's not as arrogant.” Eleanor quickly fired back.

Severus’ temper raised further, his lip twitching angrily as his eyes darkened even more than their usual black. Eleanor was enjoying taunting him a little too much, and he could tell.

“So, not only did you spend the entire night with another man right under my nose,” He leaned over her once more, using one of his hands to fumble with the buttons on his pants, “And now you insist on thinking you can take that tone with me? I don't think so.”

“Mm…” She raised her eyebrows, becoming even more aroused by the way he was acting, “What are you going to do to me, professor?”

“Spread your fucking legs and I'll show you.” He responded in a gruff, demanding tone.

“Yes, sir…” Her eyes fell to his crotch again once his buttons were undone, the bulge now protruding through the opening and straining against the front of his boxers.

He dipped his head again and their lips met urgently with a bruising kiss. Eleanor’s arms snaked around his neck again and pulled at his bottom lip, enjoying the whine that came from him as a result. Her fingers darted into his hair as he rocked his hips up against the edge of his desk, rolling up onto his tip toes several times and making soft noises against her lips.

“What, is my punishment that you're going to fuck this desk instead of me?” She giggled when the desk rocked again briefly against the wall it was positioned against as a result of his hips.

“What have I told you about your fucking mouth?” He snarled, subtly enjoying the brief friction through the material of his underwear.

“Mm… so sweary…” She grinned against his lips.

“I’m going to need you to remove your underwear,” He grunted, “And actually be a good girl for me.”

“Actually…” She swallowed hard, seeing the disapproval in his face already for not immediately bowing to his command, “There’s a slight problem with that.”

“Miss Eleanor, I do not think it would be wise for you to disobey me again…” He exhaled through his nose with a glare, narrowing his suspicious eyes when he noticed her reaching for his wrists while leaning up to kiss him feverishly as he muttered against her lips, “You are becoming insufferable again…” They kissed again, her hands now guiding his to her thighs under her dress, “Intolerable…”

“The problem being...” She let go of his wrists and moved herself closer to the edge of the desk to encourage his hands to move further up her thighs, “I’m not wearing any.”

Her words left a tingle against his lips — a tingle that went directly down to his cock. He felt Eleanor smile as they kissed again, her hands now resting against his shoulders. Although he hardly doubted her for a moment, Severus’ hands still moved further under her dress just to make sure. Despite the feeling of her bare skin beneath his fingertips easing his mind, it did not ease the arousal bulging against his own underwear that was still purposefully brushing against the edge of his desk with each kiss.

“Did you remove your underwear for me or already in hopes for him?” He asked in a serious tone, pressing his fingertips into her skin and smirking when she whimpered against his lips.

“You,” She gasped when she felt his fingers move directly between her legs, kissing him hungrily, “Always for you.”

Severus swore he could hear the pulsing of his cock from her response, now pulling his hands away completely and holding her face in one hand and desperately reaching down to free himself from his underwear with the other.

“Fuck…” He mumbled to himself, now suddenly starting to feel around in the desk drawer and then his pockets as if in some desperate hope for some form of condom or alternative contraception, “I need… I just need…” He looked around frantically, frustrated with himself, “Stay right here. Don’t move a muscle.”

“Wait,” She reached out for him once he began to pull away, “Don’t go anywhere. Its fine.”

“But I don't have- I need to go get-”

“No, shh, I said it is fine,” She shook her head, pulling him closer to her again and stretching her legs out to wrap around his waist, “Honestly.”

“You don't… want me to use anything?” He asked, she shook her head so he repeated, “Anything?”

She shook her head again, glancing down at his hardened length for a moment before glancing up at him again, “I removed my underwear before I approached you when we got back because I didn't want any barriers to stop you throwing me around your chamber in a rage of jealousy, and I would quite like to stick to the theme…” She bit her lip when he stepped close to her again, his desperate, sticky precum wet length now lining up perfectly between her legs, “I’ve been learning the contraception spell, and there's only one way to know if it worked, right?” She giggled, their heavy, desire-filled eyes now meeting, “I want you to have your way with me, Severus. No barriers. Skin on skin.”

Severus’ lips parted as he struggled with a response, taking everything in him not to lose control hands-free right in that moment from her words alone.

“Show me what happens when someone touches what's yours.” She licked her lips seductively, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck.

“Too fucking right, you’re mine.” He snarled, gripping her thighs in his large hands as he thrusted his hips forward in one, swift motion. She let out a high-pitched moan and he exhaled loudly as he felt her tense around him immediately, but for the first time nothing between them, and spoke breathily into her ear, “And don't you ever ‘shush’ me again.”

Her lips parted to apologise but all that passed through them was an even louder moan. Severus was showing no mercy, already thrusting his hips at such a pace that their kisses were hard to maintain. He gripped her thighs firmly with his hands, their teeth now colliding with rough kisses.

“I love the way you claim me so selfishly…” She spoke against his lips, trying her best to grip onto him with her arms around his neck.

“I do not wish to ever see you with another man again,” He panted against her lips, “And I could not care less how selfish that sounds.”

“Mmm… fuck me like you mean it, Severus.” Her hand dived into his hair, pulling at it in time with his thrusts.

“Do not doubt my intentions…” He spoke gruffly, secretly still trying to get used to the feeling of nothing between them as his entire length continued to plunge in and out of her in fits of desperation.

He could easily lose himself in this new, much more sensitive feeling, and trying his hardest not to was not helped by Eleanor now wrapping her legs around him tightly and digging her heels into his bottom with each thrust he made. He had no choice but to break the kiss and gasp for air; his moans were continuous but he needed to at least attempt to try and catch his breath before he passed out.

“Mm… mm, fuck!” Eleanor cried out in pleasure from the sudden change of angle and speed of his hips, her legs now desperately trying to cling onto him as their bodies shuddered in delight with each thrust.

“Yes, yes, yes… agh!” Severus grunted between heavy breaths as his hips picked up an even more relentless pace.

“Y—You’re…” She reached out weakly to grab onto the buttons of his clothing but resulted in wafting the air clumsily instead as her entire body shivered from his harsh pace, her eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy as they rolled back, “F—Fucking me so good, Severus…”

“I’m fucking you like you're mine.” He growled against her lips and shook his overcoat and cloak off, now standing in his black button down shirt and his desperately unbuttoned trousers which his strong thighs had prevented from pooling to the floor.

“Yeah?” She grinned and forced her eyes open, losing her breath completely when she saw the pure rush of delight visibly flowing through Severus’ body with each and every movement he made.

“Yes,” He responded with his eyes closed and placed one of his hands flat on the wall to steady himself; the bare contact and pace of his movements were giving him so much pleasure that he feared the feeling he could pass out wash over him again, “You. Are. Mine,” He grunted in time with each harsh thrust, “And. Mine. Alone.” He could barely catch his breath at this point, “Do you hear me?”

Eleanor could not speak for moaning out his name repeatedly with the mixture of everything that was happening, so instead offered him a shaky nod. Not that Severus saw her response with his head tilted back and his eyes still closed tightly. The table squeaked upon its legs from the forceful, consistent back and forth movements and banged against the wall. Severus felt himself slipping further and further into the raw feeling of the skin-on-skin contact and tensed his jaw every time his hips thrust all the way forward. Countless profanities left his mouth as his head made several attempts to rise again, his sweaty hair now becoming a part of his sticky forehead.

“M…mine…” He grunted, his sweaty palm now slipping down the wall. He removed it so both of his hands now clamped onto her waist as her legs squeezed around him, “Mine, mine, mine,” Each word was emphasised with a harsh slam of his hips and causing Eleanor to let out a loud squeal in the process.

“Fuck, yes, Severus,” She moaned, digging her heels harder into his bottom to urge him not to stop or slow down, “Y—Yours, Sev. Yours.”

“Good girl.” He growled against her lips, her face now in his hands as they reignited their previous clumsy kisses, “Sh-Shit…” He gasped loudly against her lips as the familiar flames in the pit of his stomach began to lick their way further up his body, trying to grasp her lip between his teeth each time their lips collided, “I’m going to cum, Princess… I—I’m going to fucking c-!”

“Mm, you certainly don't fuck me like a Princess.” She grinned against his lips, giggling for a moment before realising how close he actually was to his climax when she felt him desperately bucking his hips against hers.

“A-Ah, fuck!” He hissed through clenched teeth, his hands trembling against her face as he felt himself crumbling in pleasure, “Oh, oh! I'm cu…!” His moans were even louder than ever now, his thumbs shakily caressing her cheekbones as he tried his best to hold her face in place as his orgasm exploded with each twitch of his cock, “Ah, fuck, Eleanor!” He cried out breathlessly, feeling as if he had entered another dimension with the amount of pleasure coursing through him.

Eleanor’s own climax was already on the edge, her entire body becoming jittery each time he pushed her closer to it, but the reaction Severus gave to getting off inside her with no barriers whatsoever was all she needed to hit her peak of pleasure. Her arms flung themselves around his neck and legs tightened around his waist as she became completely undone at the mercy of his bare, relentless cock.

“S-Sev-!” She struggled for breath, repeatedly contracting around him with each pulse of his thrusting length, “Severus! Fuck…” Her fingers trembled in his hair as her body continuously switched from tensing up and turning to jelly.

Severus’ moans proceeded to rattle against the walls as his eyes rolled back in pleasure, his hands now back against her thighs and shakily massaging his fingertips against her skin. Their bodies continued to convulse in pure bliss, their clothing now sticking to their bodies with sweat as their hot breath fogged up the chamber with their heavy breathing.

Even after their movements had slowed, Severus found it practically impossible to speak for a few long moments, but when he did, he just said, “Fucking hell, that was amazing…”

“I’m surprised we didn't end up next door…” Eleanor giggled breathily, placing her hands upon his heaving chest.

“One does not take the opportunity to have you completely naturally for granted.” He whispered, cupping her cheek in his hand and gazing down into her eyes as he bit his lip.

“Mm…” Eleanor grinned, kissing him softly, “I never want to be fucked in any other way again, professor.”

“Stop talking like that,” He spoke playfully sharply against her lips, “Or it’ll never go down.”

“Don’t tempt me to keep going,” She looked up at him with a wink, “You and I both know that we always tend to have the best sex when one of us has somehow pissed the other one off.”

“No comment.” Severus spoke slowly, his facial expression straining to remain straight. He knew she was right.

“Making you jealous gets you all riled up,” She squeezed his shoulders, “Making you jealous does turn you on, Severus…” She raised her eyebrows, “Why do you think I spend all night with any man who isn't you and then turn up in your chamber without any underwear on? Why do you think I enjoy making you jealous so much, hm?”

“Why do you think I let you?” Severus replied instantly in a very matter-of-fact tone.

“Because I know you’ll fuck me into next week.” Eleanor replied just as fast, biting her lip harshly to try and suppress the wide grin that was threatening to show.

“Or next door, apparently.” Severus chuckled, brushing her hair out of her face as their eyes met again.

“I think this has to be our best worst habit.” Eleanor laughed along with him.

“I happen to agree with that statement.” Severus crinkled his nose, tilting her chin up with his index finger.

“What’s that?” Eleanor gasped playfully, “We actually agree on something?”

“Watch your lip, sweetheart…” Severus’ voice lowered, his eyes narrowing.

“I bet you’d like to watch my lip… my… lips…” Eleanor dared herself to say, though she only spoke in a timid tone.

“You really are insufferable…” He shook his head, eyes still on hers, “That attitude of yours will get you into trouble, you know.”

“Admit it, Severus,” She smirked, “I’m the kind of trouble that you enjoy.”

“Ha.” He rolled his eyes sarcastically, letting go of her and starting tuck himself back into his trousers.

“Oh, no, no,” She shook her head and pursed her lips, reaching down to push his hands away from his crotch. Severus’ gaze met hers again, his lips parting from her insinuation and a heavy breath leaving them as his jaw clenched from her following words spoken with a devilish grin, “I’m not finished with you yet.”

---

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slytherinslut0 · 8 months

Text

SEVERUS SNAPE ONESHOT- Starts Now

Tags: 18+, Spanking, Age Gap, Professor x Student, Sexual Punishment, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, DubCon, CNC.

In the deep of night, the castle of Hogwarts slept under a blanket of shadows. In this hushed, eerie atmosphere, you, a near-graduate student, driven by curiosity and a daring spirit, decided to venture into Professor Snape's potions classroom after hours.

Armed with your knowledge of advanced unlocking spells, you managed to bypass the locked door with meticulous precision, and your invisibility cloak concealed your presence. You had heard whispers among your fellow students about a secret storeroom hidden within the potions classroom, rumored to contain exotic ingredients and ancient potions, and your insatiable curiosity admittedly got the better of you.

You envisioned yourself becoming the talk of Hogwarts with your newfound expertise, being the first one to successfully break into the room and explore, knowing practically every fucking student in the school would want to know what you'd found. Your heart pounded as you entered the room, the soft moonlight filtering through dusty windows and casting an ethereal glow upon the desks and shelves.

The potions ingredients lined the shelves like an alchemist's dream, each jar containing something more wondrous and enigmatic than the last. Your heart raced as you began to gather these prized ingredients and transcribe notes on their uses. Your parchment rustled as you wrote, the quiet scratching echoing through the otherwise silent room.

Suddenly, the shadows seemed to stir, and before you could even realize what was happening, you felt a large, cold hand clamp over your lips, the other tightening around your neck, tugging you back against a strong, broad chest.

"Yet another student attempting to pilfer my secrets, I see...how utterly predictable..." he growled, lips pressed against your ear as he spit the words directly into your fucking eardrums. "Tell me, do you find yourself so exceptional that you believe the rules do not apply to you?"

You tried to shake your head, but his grip was so tight that all you could do was pathetically whimper, entire body trembling in fear as he held you against him. "I thought a student as mature as yourself would know better than this...you're almost twenty fucking years old for Merlin's sake..."

You whimpered again, wishing more than anything you could apologize to him, wishing more than anything you could beg him for forgiveness. Every second he held you, firm hand pressed over your lips, was another second in which you became filled with a mixture of terror and warmth, spreading across your skin like a raging wildfire.

"I believe you've demonstrated a complete lack of respect for both authority, and common fucking sense..." he growled, voice harsher with each syllable, rendering you utterly petrified against him. "Perhaps, I have to introduce you to one of my more merciless detentions...I'm certain it'll teach you a lesson that you won't soon forget."

And with that he released you, ripping the parchment from your hands, smirking as you spun around to face him with wide, pleading eyes. "I'm so sorry Profes-"

"Enough. Nothing you can say will fix what you've done." He spat. "You'll speak when spoken to, understand me?"

Your face flushed with heat, your entire body igniting into flame under the heat of his stare, and you nodded. "I understand."

"Good girl," he said, throwing the parchment down on his desk. "Your detention, starts now."

You parted your lips to question him, but he cut you off, advancing on you and crashing his lips to yours. Almost instantly, you melted into him, the fire that was kindling in your core erupting into complete and utter chaos, engulfing your entire body within seconds. You'd always had a thing for your professor, you'd always been attracted to his stern, no-nonsense demeanour, the way his intoxicating presence takes over a room the mere second he enters it; the way his eyes always lingered on your lips for longer than they should. To be kissing him right now, after you were certain he was just about to kill you dead, is a turn of events you'd never have expected to happen, not in a million fucking years.

Pulling back, he gripped your chin, yanking a gasp from your throat as he tightened his grip. "You've been a very bad girl..." he purred, something flickering behind his eyes that made your stomach jump. "I want you to face the wall...and lift up your skirt."

Your thighs screamed in need at his request, your entire body trembling as he held you there for a moment, allowing his words to linger--giving you a chance to refuse, to deny his demands if you so desired--before he released you, his grin widening as you slowly did as he said, without question.

The second you'd raised your skirt, exposing your bare ass to him, he was on you, hands gripping and smoothing the flesh--low groans leaving his chest as he pressed you into the wall, breathing hot breath over your ear.

"Such an obedient little thing...willing to do anything I say..." he purred, the approval clear in his tone, teeth nipping at the flesh of your earlobe. "I'm going to bruise this beautiful ass, and you're going to thank me for it, understand?" He gripped a palmful of your ass cheek, the other slipping up and grasping your throat.

Through the pressure of his grip, you nodded. "Yes, sir..."

"Good girl." He said. "I suggest you tighten your grip on your skirt, ensure that it's real, real firm..."

Without thinking, you spoke. "Why?"

A hard, firm smack to your asscheek ripped the oxygen from your lungs, a gasp escaping you as he tightened the pressure around your throat simultaneously.

"Because, if you try to touch me, try to stop me in any way, I will increase the pain and the total by generous fucking amounts that I know your innocent little body would never be able to handle...and you don't want that, do you, little girl?"

Your lungs were threatening to collapse under the weight of your desire, wetness almost undoubtedly weeping between your thighs. You'd never been spoken to like this, you'd never been treated like this, and admittedly, you were shamelessly fucking loving it.

"No, sir...I wouldn't..."

He hummed, releasing you. "That's what I thought."

Doing as he suggested, you gripped your skirt tight between your fingers, bringing your trembling hands in front of you to reduce the temptation to touch him. The room was silent for a moment as you felt him turn to his desk, pulling open a drawer and retrieving something from it before returning back to you, bringing his lips dangerously close to your ear once again.

"You better keep quiet...you don't want to risk someone finding you here like this, would you?" He purred, smoothing his palm over your asscheek.

With a low whimper, you shook your head. "No, sir..."

He hummed again, seemingly pleased. "Move your feet wider...I want them spread nice and wide for me..."

Gods, this was killing you, in the best fucking way possible. You spread your feet wider, only by a small amount, the feeling of vulnerability starting to eat away at you. Displeased by this, your Professor pressed against you, steadying one of his hands on the wall beside your head, the other reaching down and gripping your bare thigh, urging your feet further apart.

"I said nice and wide, little girl..." he growled, lips pressed against your ear. "Perhaps you're not familiar with what that looks like, hm?"

You whimpered, cunt clenching indefinitely at this point--you couldn't fucking help it, he was driving you fucking insane. You'd never known need like you did right then, your entire body screaming his name, screaming for his touch.

He huffed, amused. "Take your punishment like a good girl and perhaps I'll show you...”

And with that, he pulled back, smoothing his palm over your asscheek one more time before retreating his hand to your lower back, urging you to press your face against the wall as something hard, cold and fucking painful whacked your ass, sending immense amounts of pain throughout your entire body. You went to scream, but somehow you remembered that you couldn't--that you needed to keep quiet so that no one would hear--so you instead chose to bite down on your lip with enough force to split the skin, tears welling in your eyes as he pulled back and repeated the process on the other cheek.

"Mm. That's it..." he purred, smoothing over the welting skin. "You're being so good for me..."

Your legs trembled, breath sputtering as he whacked you again, and again, hardy giving you a second to even consider any form of response, not that he was really even looking for one. Your body was quaking, the overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure growing to be so powerful your head was spinning, your cunt clenching with every single smack.

Smack. "You like that, huh?" Smack. "You like being fucking punished by your Professor..." smack. "Dirty little thing…”

You whimpered, the first audible noise that had managed to leave your lips, and your professor huffed, clucking his tongue.

"Keep being good for me..." he purred, nipping at your neck as he gave you a second to collect yourself. "Only two more..."

With a long, shaky inhale, you nodded, eyes rolling back in your skull as his teeth nibbled at the sensitive flesh below your ear, undoubtedly breaking blood vessels. His palm slithered down, from your lower back to your ass, grazing over the flaming skin before teasing your inner thigh, sparking heat in your blood so hot you were worried it would melt your flesh from the inside out.

As he grazed your panties, you mewled, and without giving you a chance to even process it, he whacked you two more times, a cry of pain slipping past your lips at the abrupt sensations. Professor Snape hummed, seemingly pleased, bringing both hands to your ass now, gripping and kneading the burning skin, eliciting even more pain, as though what'd he'd already done wasn't enough.

You broke, the agony unbearable. "Fuck, Professor, please..."

He groaned, gripping you harder. "Thank me." He spat into your ear. "Thank me for punishing your bad little ass."

You whimpered, knuckles popping with how hard you were holding the fabric of your skirt. "Thank you, Professor!" You squealed, desperation clear in your voice. "Fuck-thank you for punishing me..."

"Very good." He huffed, slowly releasing you. "Perhaps you should break into my classroom again tomorrow night..."

You spun to face him, slowly releasing your skirt as you met his hungry eyes. "Perhaps.”

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serverusslaype · 7 days

Text

Shameless, pt. 15

Severus Snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

hey guys.................. dont kill me. i'm so sorry for the incredibly lengthy hiatus.... i had no motivation, each time i opened the file to type i'd type a couple words, maybe a paragraph and close it. i finally found the motivation to finish this chapter recently, i'm hoping it stays. it's been a rough couple months, so hoping this can help me feel a bit better!!

i felt really guilty for sort of abandoning the fic where it was, but i couldn't force myself to write anything, there was no creative juice, i think i sort of burnt myself out. and for the previous posts saying i was back, i thought i was, but i'd have the smallest spark of inspiration and try to write, but then nothing happened, and i felt bad so i didn't want to say something like, sorry, i lied. :(

hopefully this chapter is okay, i know most of you won't like it, but i'm so glad i finally finished it, it was one of the hardest to write because i had so many ideas on how it'd end and effect the whole story itself, so i had to make sure it made sense.

i can't believe you guys are still here after so long, it made me emotional to see all of your asks and comments and likes, i was just floored to be honest, so thank you so much for your unwavering support. i love you all so so much. honestly. holy shit. this has been a journey. <3 i hope you guys are all doing brilliantly.

warnings: lack of snape, swearing, mentions of adultery, slight domestic violence, verbal abuse at the end

You didn't know where to go. You felt... lost. You couldn't exactly go back to your quarters, not with Ben there, you didn't need more questions about why you were crying your eyes out at this time of night. It's not like you could tell him the truth.

So, you did what anyone would: go for a midnight walk. Well, at least that's what you thought anyone would do when they had nowhere to go. You'd hoped that the fresh, cold air would soothe your burning lungs, and the gentle breeze would dry your teary eyes. In an even deeper, darker part of your mind, you also hoped that Black would find you. Perhaps that would make everything... easier.

With tears still streaming freely from your eyes and heavy feet, you padded towards the large, magnificent doors that led to the outside with your arms wrapped around your body tightly; trying your best not to breakdown until you were alone. Your hands were still shaking as you pushed them against the doors, opening it a tad as the cool wind blew through the crack and into your face. You gasped a little at the sharp breeze, but nonetheless you slipped out, and made your way into the courtyard. The temperature was a little more biting than you had anticipated, and so you squeezed your arms around yourself a little tighter, walking towards the infamous wooden, crooked bridge.

As you sauntered through the courtyard, the only noises you heard were the owls hooting in the distance, the gentle breeze brushing through the burnt-amber leaved trees and the faint clack of your heels against the cobblestoned ground. In all honesty, it did feel a little eerie to the say the least, but at this very moment that was the least of your worries. All you wanted was a little time alone to cry, or grieve what could have been with ...Severus.

Gods, it hurt to even think his name, let alone speak it.

You reached the wooden bridge, and you stopped in the middle of it; leaning against the intricately carved columns to gaze out at the highlands. The moonlight casted a gorgeous glaze-like reflection upon the Black Lake, and it twinkled beautifully, almost hypnotising you like an illusion. Your eyes flicked up to the moon and glanced around it, staring at the glittering stars surrounding it like a perfect painting. Only times like this did you miss teaching Astronomy. As your mind reeled back to your first year teaching at Hogwarts, you relished in the time where you did not know the man named Severus Snape, and suddenly your heart sank in your chest like an anchor dropped at sea. You were so naive back then, unknowing of what was to come.

As the memories of you and Severus flooded your mind like a dam breaking, you let yourself cry. You could still feel his lips on yours, his fingertips gently tracing the curves and grooves of your skin, the words he'd whispered into your ear - it was all there, stained on your skin, like a tattoo - or perhaps a branding. And now you had to live with it. You weren't sure if you'd survive this time, especially not with how deeply you felt for him. You were torn between pretending he didn't exist and trying to talk to him, perhaps even telling him how you felt, but truth be told you were petrified of how he'd react. Would he even look at you again with those glittering black eyes you'd come to adore so hopelessly? Would he dare speak to you again, knowing that he'd charmed you? Maybe he'd relish in the fact that he'd done so, take pride in bewitching you, and make you hurt for it. You knew Snape could be rather cruel, your school days here with him as your teacher was enough for you to know that.

All these unanswered questions swam through your head and you felt yourself becoming suffocated from them, and it suddenly felt as if your lungs had filled with water, drowning you. You sobbed helplessly as you slid down the wooden wall behind you with your hands against your face, the rough edges scratching your back through your clothes rather uncomfortably.

"Y/N?" A voice came from beside you, and you froze. You turned your head away from them and quickly used your sleeve to wipe your eyes, drying the tears that had fallen from them. Only one person has a voice as soft as the one you had just heard.

You gave yourself a moment to gather yourself before even attempting to use your voice.

"Hello, Remus." You croaked quietly, sniffling.

"What on Earth are you doing out here so late?" He questioned gently, and you heard him take a step towards you. "Are you alright?"

"Quite dandy," you sarcastically quipped, sighing deeply, "I'm brilliant..." You turned your head to face him, and immediately, his face softened at the sight of your own. You were sat up against the side of the bridge, knees up against your chest and your arms wrapped around them; nose and eyes red, wet with tears. Remus quickly dropped down to his knees beside you, placing a soothing hand upon your forearm.

"What happened?" Remus asked, careful to keep his voice quiet and soft. With empty eyes, you stared into his worried ones, and instantly you felt terrible. The last thing you wanted was people worrying over you.

You looked away, down at the ground. "I..." you mumbled, sighing, "it's a... long... story." You spoke slowly. From the corner of your eye, you saw a small smile quirk up on Remus's lips.

"I've got time, my dear." He replied as his thumb brushed your forearm, silently encouraging you to talk. You felt at ease in Remus's presence, it was almost like he had a calm aura around him, and naturally your body relaxed beside his. You took a deep breath.

"Erm," you choked, sniffling again, "it's Se... Snape." You couldn't bring yourself to say his first name without crumbling into a million pieces.

Remus let out a gentle breath. "Snape, of course," He tutted, glancing between you and the ground. "What's he done?" The fact that Remus reacted like he had expected Snape to have hurt you, further broke your heart. Were you the only one to have seen through his icy exterior?

"Broken my heart," You laughed dryly, and you had to fight back another bout of tears. Remus's brows furrowed in confusion at you. "We... I... Look, I'm not sure how to explain this to you. But... I fell..." You trailed off, unable to finish your sentence. Your heart hurt too much. You only hoped that Remus knew what you were about to say.

Remus blinked and stared at you, shocked. Clearly, the two of you had hidden your 'relationship' well - so well that everyone was oblivious to it. "You fell...?" He frowned.

"In love... with him..." You almost whispered, avoiding Remus's eyes. You weren't sure if you'd be able to handle the look in them.

"You're in love with... Severus?" Remus repeated, and you squeezed your eyes shut at his words. They were like daggers, stabbing your bleeding heart. It was almost like you could feel it trembling inside of your chest, begging you to free it from this cycle of torment. "But... Aren't you with... Ben? And... Severus... he's..."

"I know," you sighed, noticing his confusion, "I had feelings for Severus before I met Ben. And it sort of just, like, spiralled out of control, and now, erm, here I am- Gods, I should have just listened to Minerva, I wouldn't be here right now, hurting like this." You ranted, another strangled sob leaving your throat. Remus watched you, and his eyes softened. He felt terrible for you. "She warned me, Remus, why didn't I just listen to her?!" You cried, letting your head fall into your hands.

"Y/N," Remus whispered, reaching out a cautious hand to pry your face from your hands. With a soft gasp, you looked up with teary eyes, and he wiped a stray tear from your cheek. "We don't get to choose who we do and don't fall in love with. We follow our hearts blindly, most of the time, unknowingly." He said, and moved his hand from your wet cheek to your shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. "It's beyond our control who we love."

There was a moment of silence.

"...What do I do, Remus?" You sobbed softly, sniffling, looking at your knees.

"Have you told him?"

"No."

"I think you should."

"But what about Ben? Shouldn't I... deal with... that first?" You sniffled again. "And what if Severus doesn't feel the same way about me? Then what?"

Remus paused for a moment, thinking. You looked up at him. "What if he does?" He said, a small, comforting smile tickling his lips as he stared at you.

"Well- from the way he treated me earlier... I truly doubt it, Remus." You scoffed, glancing away from his pitying brown eyes.

Remus sighed, and you clenched your jaw. "Regret is a terrible thing, Y/N," he said, "it's such a short word, yet it stretches on forever." Your eyes were glued on the ground and your body was still, but your mind was running a million miles an hour.

You sat there in silence for a short moment, thinking deeply. Remus was right. You'd regret it for the rest of your life if you didn't tell Severus how you felt. That chance of him reciprocating your feelings was small, but it was still there. If he didn't feel the same, fine, you'd move on. Eventually. And if he did?...

"...Alright," You nodded sheepishly. "I'll tell him. I just... need to, erm, work out when and more specifically, how. Like, do I just straight up blurt it out? Work my way up to it? H-how do you know it's the right time?" You rambled with tears still falling from your eyes, glancing through them at Remus who sat beside you with a soft expression upon his features.

"You'll know." Was all he said before slowly standing and holding out a hand for you to take. Graciously, you took it, and Remus pulled you to your feet. "Feel better?" He hummed, casting a glance out at the moon, then a worried look suddenly struck his eyes. You noticed and frowned slightly at his behaviour.

The moon?

"A little." You forced a smile upon your lips, and lifted up a hand to wipe the remaining stray tears upon your red cheeks. Remus looked back at you, and returned your smile. "How come you were out so late?" You asked curiously, brushing off his odd reaction to seeing a moon.

"A walk in the night does me good," Remus shrugged, and began to walk back towards the castle with you beside him. "Clears my head."

"Ah, well, I suppose I'm glad you found me, then." You chuckled awkwardly, folding your arms against your chest.

Remus smiled at you and placed an arm around your shoulders, giving you a squeeze. "Let's get you back to your quarters, Y/N, you look like an ice block." He hummed and lead you back to the castle, but not before throwing another glance over his shoulder to the almost-full-moon.

Faint, footsteps trailed down an empty corridor, and a billowing black cape followed with it. As Severus marched, his chest felt horribly heavy, almost like there was a boulder chained to it, weighing him down. He couldn't figure out why he felt like this, and it was starting to make him a little irate. He knew it was something to do with you since it had started after you'd stormed out of his office.

As Severus was about to round a corner, the sound of familiar, sweet laughter rattled through his bones, and immediately he froze. Without a doubt, he knew it was you. Only you could have laughter that sounded like the sweet songs that birds chirped in the summer mornings. The breath in his lungs suddenly vanished and he quickly swooped himself behind a bookcase, poking his head out from the side of it to see who you were with.

The moment you appeared, that boulder chained to his chest became heavier, and he felt himself lean against the bookcase he hid behind. Severus's eyes widened as they glued themselves to the man beside you - Remus Lupin. His blood boiled at the sight.

What could have Lupin have said to make you laugh like that? He'd only heard you laugh like that when you were with him, not Lupin.

From a distance, he couldn't make out what the two of you were talking about, but it was obviously hilarious. Severus's jaw clenched as he watched Lupin place a hand upon the small of your back, guiding you.

Guiding you... inside your quarters?

Snape hissed silently to himself as he stared, his sharp and hardened eyes welded to the back of Lupin's head like molten metal. As your door shut, Snape could only huff in disgust with bared teeth. What were the two of you doing in there? It was past midnight and you and Lupin seemed happy as Larry to go into your quarters. Snape couldn't bear the idea of you and Lupin alone together - let alone the fact that Lupin had had his damned, grubby paws on you. Severus clenched his jaw in a violent fashion, very clearly upset at how you'd moved on so quickly, especially with another professor at Hogwarts. Was this your thing? Bewitch every lonely professor that you laid your wretched eyes upon and then move onto the next? Did it make you feel better about yourself in some fucked up way?

An uneasy, bitter feeling twisted inside of his chest as he pictured the two of you alone and he whipped around out of spite; the swoosh of his long, black cloak filling the silent hallway. How could you move on so quickly, so... easily?

"Never did I think I'd see the day that someone told me they fell in love with a man like Severus Snape." Remus laughed softly as he waddled to your sofa, glancing at you as if to ask if it was alright to sit. You nodded at him.

"And yet here we are." You hummed with a flat mouth, clearly not as amused as your friend was. "Sometimes I wish I was as emotionally guarded as he was, but then I remember how bloody miserable that would be." You mumbled, earning an abrupt laugh from Lupin who'd settled on the couch with a soft sigh.

Ben was nowhere to be seen, so you assumed he was asleep in the bedroom.

"Severus is an interesting character, most definitely," Lupin nodded and you turned around, walking towards him to join him on the sofa. "And I applaud you for being able to tame him. If it's any consolation, only one other woman had been able to, though I think it was... unintentional, if you will."

"Unintentional?" You questioned, your tone curious. Though almost instantly, that curiosity was killed as the thought of Severus with another woman stabbed at your fragile heart. "Actually, I'm not sure if I want to hear this right now." A dry laugh slipped from your lips and you exhaled sharply as another wave of tears prickled at your waterline.

"Alright." Lupin said softly, taking notice of your quivering voice. He stood up with a breathy groan and shuffled towards you, slinking an arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest. It was calming, and the way he hugged you reminded you of all the times your parents would comfort you as a child. As Lupin gave you a supportive squeeze, it was as if he'd accidently pushed the button for the waterworks - hot tears began to stream down your cheeks once again, and you sobbed quietly into his wrinkled shirt.

"Hey," Lupin sighed as he watched your shoulders shake with sorrow. His hand sat on the top of your arm, squeezing it gently: a dire attempt at consoling you. "Don't cry, Y/N, it'll pass."

"Idon'twantitto-" You mumbled into his shirt, sniffling loudly. Lupin's brows furrowed together in confusion as he paused for a brief moment, silently trying to decipher what you'd just said.

"What?" He asked gently, leaning his head down so he could hear you a little better. You lifted your head from him, sighing, another heartbreaking sniffle sneaking out of your reddened nose.

"I don't want it to." You repeated yourself, lifting a hand up to wipe your wet eyes lazily.

"I know. But it will." Lupin sighed too. "Severus is... a very... damaged man," He cringed slightly at his choice of words, but he continued, "I'm not even sure that you could help him- or fix him."

At this point, you were staring soullessly at the floor, and the only thing you could feel was Lupin's chest against your shoulders. Were you and Severus really a lost case? You felt like you'd made so much progress, he'd opened up to you, he'd... he also ran away again. Perhaps your friend Remus is right.

"I think I want to be alone." You suddenly blurted out, slowly glancing up at the professor with glossy, red eyes. Lupin blinked at you, confused for a moment, though he quickly came to. He didn't blame you for saying such a thing - you'd just had your heart ripped out, to put it simply.

Remus didn't say anything, he only nodded, offering you a kind, yet pitiful smile - and that hurt you slightly. You didn't want his pity, in fact, you didn't want anyone's pity. "If you need anything, you know where to find me." He muttered, brushing a hand through your hair softly. You shut your eyes for a moment and sighed, a small gush of guilt filling your body. Here Lupin was, trying to console you, and you're kicking him out. You hoped he didn't take it personally.

"I'm sorry, I... I just need to be alone." You quickly offered. Remus shook his head and frowned at you.

"No, I understand. See you in the morning, Y/N. Feel better soon." The professor smiled at you and this time it wasn't rich with pity, but kindness. He tipped his head at you and began to shuffle his way towards the door, opening it with a quiet creak from the oak. Before he disappeared out of your chambers, Remus turned around and smiled at you once more, slipping away.

Seconds after the door shut, a drowsy-looking Ben opened your bedroom door, popping his head out. He squinted at the bright light, clearly having just woken up. That settled your nerves slightly, since you'd just spoken about Severus with Remus, only a few metres away from Ben.

"Are you crying?" Ben yawned, his bushy brows furrowed in either confusion or annoyance - at this point you couldn't tell.

"No," You coughed and turned around to pretend to do something else as you wiped at your eyes. "I'm fine, go back to bed, Ben." A curt sigh fell from your lips, and almost immediately you heard footsteps padding closer to you. "I'm fine." You repeated, listening as his feet stopped behind you.

"What happened?" Ben asked, the tiniest hint of sympathy in his voice made you shiver slightly.

"Nothing, it was just a rough day at work, honestly. I'd rather not talk about it." Your brows shot together as you tried to keep the tears at bay, but you couldn't help but think about Severus as Ben placed a hand on your waist in an attempt to pry you away from the countertop and towards him. You didn't want anyone else's hands on you but his.

"Hey," Ben said softly, though it felt heavy in your chest. "It's work. It won't matter in a day or two." You were silent. "Y/N?"

"I need a drink." You muttered and forced yourself to look at Ben, cringing slightly as you walked past him and towards a glossy wooden cabinet in the corner of your chambers. You rarely drank, and if you did, it was to either celebrate something, or forget something.

Another uncomfortable silence fell on top of the pair of you.

"Want one?" You asked with no emotion in your voice.

Ben hesitated for a moment, his groggy eyes staring at the back of your figure, silently trying to deduce you. "...Sure."

You were going to regret this.

You'd changed into comfier clothes, more specifically a pair of forest green silk shorts and a matching camisole top. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you faced Ben as he was sat on the windowsill opposite you, nursing his glass of wine. After a few strong sips, the pair of you were chatting and reminiscing like old pals. "Remember that time when I turned Peter Kipling into a weasel in McGonagall's class?" Ben giggled drunkenly, elbowing you gently as you nodded with tears in your eyes, an amused grin spread across your face.

"Oh my- I forgot about that!" You wheezed, smacking your lips together. "Didn't you get... like... at least- like a month's detention for that?" You laughed, slurring, taking another sip of your glass of Elven wine. You winced slightly at the strong aftertaste as it burned your throat. That was to be your last drink, you couldn't take much more.

"Ohh, yeah, I d-id," Ben hiccuped, his laughter dying out as he sighed; his tired eyes falling onto you. Shuffling under his gaze, you felt slightly uncomfortable. A brief yet thick silence suddenly engulfed the two of you like a slow-burning fire. Ben stood from where he'd been sat, stumbling over to where you were, stopping just in front of your knees.

"I miss talkin' to you, Y/N." He sighed, taking his hand and placing it upon your cheek; carressing the apple of it with his rough thumb. The strong scent of alcohol on his breath made you gag a tad - you were drunk as well, but the smell of it wasn't pleasant, especially from his mouth.

Your breath hitched slightly at the sudden contact.

"..Yeah." You answered quietly albeit awkwardly as you stared up at Ben. Though, all the wine you'd consumed was making him look like someone... else - the darkness wasn't helping either, in fact it was fueling your hallucinations. The dark cast of a shadow from the lit candles behind him made his nose appear larger, and his cheekbones a little more pronounced.

Slowly, he crouched down until you two were eye-level, his hands slipping to your ankles. Your body stiffened slightly at the feeling. "Ben.." You warned, sighing as the drunk buzz and pleasurable tingle from the pads of his fingers was starting to cloud your mind.

"Whaat?" He whispered, heavy-lidded eyes still glued to yours as his fingers began to trail up your calves. Ben began to stand up slightly, pushing his face dangerously close to yours, and so you leant backwards to avoid him, your back gradually making contact with the bed. He shuffled forwards slightly, pressing a knee against the edge of the bed to balance himself.

You shouldn't be doing this, you knew that, but Gods, the alcohol was truly fucking with your morals and mind.

Would it hurt?

Just a little... taste...?

You shut your eyes as you became lost in the feeling; his fingers reaching the backs of your soft thighs, a breathy sigh falling from your lips. Slowly, you opened your eyes again as Ben's smalelr nose pressed into your neck, followed by his wet lips. You gasped as his hands found your torso, his fingers pressing a little too harshly into your flesh.

Severus.

Memories of him suddenly flooded your mind like a reservoir breaking a dam, flushing out anything that didn't embody him. All the times Severus had attacked your supple flesh beautifully; pulling gorgeous moans from those pink lips of yours. Your brows furrowed together as your body silently yearned for his touch. It hurt.

You were stuck between stopping this and just shamelessly indulging in the dark, twisted fantasy of pretending that Ben was Severus. You were being so selfish. And yet, you didn't care, all of the emotional turmoil that you'd been through tonight was pushing you to the edge - all you wanted was the man who didn't love you, who only saw you as a quick fuck, maybe some midnight company.

You shut your eyes again and tried your best to imagine him. With a sigh, you ran your hand up Ben's neck and into his hair, though it wasn't the same. You missed the way you'd tangle your fingers in his raven-black locks, gripping on it as he'd ravish your neck and breasts like some mad professional. Sighing frustratedly, you moved your hands down to his shoulders, expecting the rough, black fabric of Severus's robes, and yet you were met with the flimsy, thin fabric of Ben's white cotton t-shirt.

You felt so fucking pathetic.

Knock, knock.

You froze, eyes snapping open as quick as lightning. Was there someone at the door?

"Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Ben groaned drunkenly as he continued to kiss your neck. Unfortunately for him, the feeling had worn off the second you heard those knocks.

"The knocks at the door."

"You're.. imag-ining things, baby." Ben sighed and hiccuped once more, his uncomfortably hot breath on your neck made you shiver. At this point, Ben was much more drunk than you, and so with your remaining energy, you rolled him off of you. "Whoa- heey-!" He groaned as you slipped from underneath him, padding to the door. You didn't bother to check if he was alright, the only thing on your mind was who was at your door at this time of night.

Was it him? Did you want it to be him?

Reluctantly, you reached out your hand to open the door.

Nobody was there.

You frowned and leaned forwards, poking your head out to glance around. The corridor was empty, completely empty. That was incredibly weird, did you imagine those knocks? You sighed softly - perhaps you were a little disapppointed. Turning around, you shut the door, only to be faced with Ben sat sloppily in a chair with a face like thunder.

"Waitin' for someone?" He asked with a flat tone, his head lazily cocked to one side, still clearly drunk.

"What?"

"You know what I'm talkin' abou', Y/N." Ben said with the same tone, standing up, albeit unsteadily. You swallowed as he inched closer towards you, dragging his feet, your toes burying themselves against the hard wooden floor beneath your feet. "I know about the notes you kept. From him." He spat, pointing his finger at your face. Your heart instantly began to gallop; the pounding of its beats echoed in your ears like a harrowing scream in the night.

The notes...

"Excuse me?" You choked out, brows furrowing together in complete shock.

This was not how you wanted this to go down.

"I went through yer little drawers. In yer greenhouse," Ben scowled, his nose turning upwards in what you could only describe as disgust. "All of his little notes were perfectly preserved, and mine? Well-" Your mind was running so quickly that you could barely even listen to what he was saying - the fact that he went behind your back and invaded your privacy was the only thing sticking out to you as of right now. Your skin felt like it was on fire as the anger began to flood your veins.

"You went through my drawers, Ben?!" You yelled, shoving a finger in his face.

"That's the only thing you care abou'?! Not the fact that you secretly- obviously, have some sort of fucked up... thing for a man who treats people like they're the tiniest bit of shit on 'is shoe?!" Ben screamed back drunkenly as he bared his teeth, stomping towards you and smacking your finger away. "The fuck is wrong withya?"

You knew this could get ugly quite quickly, especially as Ben was drunk - a lot drunker than you. But at this moment, your anger was far too hot to even think about cooling things down.

You scoffed at him, your lips twitching upwards into a disgusted sneer. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! Going through my stuff?!" You shouted at him, taking a step backwards as he began to get a little too close for comfort. "That's not okay, Ben!"

"How long has it been going on?" Ben asked, his tone suddenly calm. That put you on edge.

You paused for a moment, pondering on his question. It was probably best that you didn't answer that. "We're done here, Ben." You clenched your jaw, silently readying yourself for some sort of explosion.

"How long, Y/N?!" Ben yelled. The way the whites of his eyes were basically screaming at you made you feel terrified. In this current moment, there was only one pair of arms that you wish you were being held in. The man in front of you backed you up to the door, and you could only stare at him, for your wand was foolishly placed inside the pockets of your robes hung in your bedroom. Tears burned in your eyes as the guilt you'd tucked away was finally waking up and holding your body hostage with it's incredibly heavy weight. "Did you fuck 'im? Is that why ya never slept wit'me for months? Because you were too ...busy being his fucktoy?" Ben slurred, his face red and lips wet with saliva from how he'd been shouting.

"Shut up!" You cried at Ben as the tears began to break free from you and run down your cheeks like melting diamonds. This was so not the way you wanted this to go. "Please, just stop!" You were sobbing at this point as his words pierced your heart, quickly reminding you of what Severus truly thought of you.

"Oh, fuck sake, stop with the cryin'," Ben growled, drunkenly shoving a hand into your shoulder, sending you barreling backwards and into the door. You winced slightly as the bone of your shoulder blade made contact with the metal bar on your door. "Whiny bitch, yer the one in the wrong, not me!" He grumbled with a heavy sigh, turning away from you.

"Shit, Ben-" You gasped as you leaned forwards and pushed yourself off of the door, however, a sharp and excruciating pain shot across your shoulder as you tried to move it. "What the hell were you thinking?!" You whined, stumbling to the countertops of your kitchenette to lean on it. Your shoulder was fucking killing you.

"Me? What was I fuckin' thinkin'?!" A sarcastic, manic laugh fell from his lips and immediately you regretted your choice of words. The man spun on his heel, and suddenly he donned a wand in his hand. Now, you were scared for your life. "You're one to talk... you know what... I'm going to have you fired... yeah... blacklisted. From every job in this fuckin' area! That'll teach you to be a whore!" Ben screamed the last word so loudly that you were sure every sleeping student and teacher heard it. Your jaw ticked, and you had to look away, your face painted an embarrassed shade of scarlet.

Your heart dropped at his words. No way was this happening.

"You can't do that." You whispered, tears still streaming from your eyes as you stared at the ground.

"I work at the Ministry, darlin', anything is possible."

"Fuck you."

"What did you just say t'me?"

"Fuck you!" You cried out hoarsely with one hand on your shoulder and the other gripping the countertop. An animalistic like growl fell from your ex-boyfriend as he stormed towards you, fury burning bright in his eyes. He raised his wand, and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for some sort of spell to hit you.

"Stupefy!" A familiar voice commanded, the swish of a spell following it suit. Then, a loud thud.

Reluctantly, you opened your eyes to see Ben laying on the floor, unconscious in a pool of his own saliva. Your chest heaved with fear, and you were incredibly scared to look up to see who had come to your rescue. Frozen, you stood still in your place, though you could feel your knees beginning to buckle. Within seconds you were on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, your lungs on fire from how harshly you were breathing. Merlin, you could've just died.

uh oh.. who saved her?

i'm sorry if you weren't tagged, i went through the majority of my notes and tried to find you all!! pls forgive me :( there was a lot due to my absence <3

taglist:

@a-laufeyson

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138 notes · View notes

slitheriyn · 1 month

Text

comfort, 1971 & 1981

#severus snape #pro snape #archie #harry potter fanart #doodle!#whats the platonic version of the snape x oc tag #snape&oc?#blehh #I CANT DRAW HUGS YALL THIS IS SO HARD #archie is like a year or two older than him tbh i cant decide

162 notes · View notes

rfsak2 · 2 months

Text

Easy Target, Pt.2

Part two!! If you like it, please leave a like. Some of us authors claim we can write without feedback but it surely is much less fun! I would love to discuss headcanons and meta analyses!

Easy Target, Part 2

They thought wrong. Severus/OC

Warnings: cuss words, allusions to trauma and injuries.

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE

Part 1

When next he saw her, she was considerably more put together. Her hair was pulled back into a neat chignon, she was wearing a simple knit dress, neat but sans teaching robes. She seemed much better rested as she sauntered into the Great Hall, whatever infernal shoes she had on clacking loudly on the stone.

She smiled serenely, lips a fetching red, as she settled her free hand on the back of her seat, the other small hand clutching a newspaper, long, elegantly manicured nails painted a deep, bloody red. “Good Morning.” She chirped as she scooted her chair from under the table, waving a hand over it, transfiguring it in a plush, soft cushioned chair.

Whatever his reservations about her, he had to admit that she was brilliant at transfiguration and likely excellent at spell work in general, considering her facility with wandless and wordless magic.

He looked up and caught her eyes, nearly starting at her bright, friendly smile. “Did y’all sleep well?” There were a few noncommittal morning mumbles, none of which fazed her.

He arched an eyebrow silently as she settled delicately against the right side of her over-large chair and opened her paper. Where was the snippy witch he had met last night? Where was the woman who had called him a dick and sparred toe-to-toe with him?

“Morning person, are you, Ms. de Vilieré?” He groused lightly as he sipped his tea.

Her smile faltered in the slightest as she spared him the barest glance over her New Orleans Magical Post and waved a negligent hand over her teacup. The acrid scent of strong coffee floated over to his nose and he watched as she poured a liberal amount of cream into the cup.

She sipped silently and shrugged. “No, not at all, Professor. I think I got more sleep than I’m used to yesterday and I’m kinda energetic, oddly enough. Before long, y’all are gonna need to peel me out of my chair in the morning.”

Y’all are gonna…

He snorted to himself, what an absurd accent.

Lupin leaned over her teacup and chuckled. “It’s not even brown anymore. Is there any coffee in there, Charlotte?”

She smiled and shrugged. “My hu... ex-husband’s grandmother used to tease me for exactly the same thing.”

Snape could smell blood in the water.

She grimaced slightly and looked up at him as if expecting him to comment. There was a sharp moment in which he could feel her vulnerability, then it was gone and she was looking back down at her paper.

“If it wasn’t the only way for me to get my morning start, I wouldn’t even bother with it. It takes too much cream to cut the bitterness out of coffee.”

He snorted again. “It seems to me that you don’t need a morning start, Ms. de Vilieré.”

She looked up at him, her blue eyes assessing his, as if wondering why he didn’t take the free shot she had all but given him. He smirked smugly at her, one word: leverage.

One pale blonde eyebrow lifted sardonically. It wasn’t the reaction Severus had expected and it set him on edge, as if she knew something he didn’t.

Then with a small smile, she looked back down at the paper. “Appearances aren’t always as they seem, Mr. Snape.”

Severus felt his jaw clench, an involuntary sign of his discomfort.

Then she winked at him. He sucked in a breath, trying hard to pin down the reactivity that still lingered after all this time.

Appearances aren’t always as they seem, Mr. Snape.

He took a few hours to cool his temper, thoughts -irrational thoughts not based in fact- making it difficult for him to not see her comment and wink as anything but meant to embarrass and ridicule.

She didn’t go to Hogwarts. She has no idea how I would take that. She was just being cheeky or mocking, at worst. She was responding in kind.

He kept the mantra up as strode through the blessedly empty halls up to the transfiguration professor’s office.

There was a wreath of seasonal flowers on the door. Severus stared mutely, its presence almost unintelligible.

Shaking loose of the confusion, he walked into her office without knocking, a smug smirk firmly in place, noticing how markedly different it was to Minerva’s former office. Gone were the tartan and biscuits, now replaced with Fleur-de-lis’, deep green, and wrought iron.

At least her color choices weren’t objectionable.

“It seems ironic that both you and the former inhabitant of this office are equally obsessed with your respective heritages.”

She looked over at him and sighed. She turned back to the shelf and released whatever complicated spell work she was performing.

Without a wand. Or verbal spells.

The effortless show of facility irked him.

A vase of flowers landed on a sideboard with a soft thud.

She turned back to him and set her hands on her hips, shrugged. “Must be a transfiguration professor thing. Besides I don’t rightly see how that’s a bad thing, myself.”

Snape ignored her. “You were married, that isn’t in your file.”

She sighed and transfigured a nearby wooden chair into a plush, deep green velvet armchair. “Please have a seat, Professor.” She waved elegantly at the chair and he settled himself in the ridiculous seat. “What is it exactly you would like to know?” He opened his mouth to speak and she quickly cut in. “Mind you, I reserve the right not to answer.”

He nodded. “Does Minerva know?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course. She decided that it was best left out of the file.”

Interesting. “Why?”

“I don’t know, honestly. I didn’t ask her to.” She sighed and lowered her eyes from his. “I suppose that she wished to shield me from the stigma associated with divorcees.”

He shrugged lightly, his eyes heavy with suspicion, there was more to this story. He crossed his legs and leaned back a little in his chair. “Do you have any children?”

She stiffened. “One, a son.”

He nodded and smirked slightly, trying to see how far he could push her. “One would think that a mother would have her son here with her.”

She perched herself on the edge of her desk, crossing her legs primly at the knee, back straight and rigid. “One would think that a professor would be smart enough to not make such an imbecilic statement. But then, there you have it.”

It took most of his considerable reserve to not gape at her. “Pardon me?”

“You heard me.” She smiled blithely at him, not to be cowed. “I said what I said.”

He arched an eyebrow, fighting against a thrill down his spine that was fast becoming a predictable nuisance. “So then, your son doesn’t want to be with you?”

She rolled her eyes again. “My son can’t be with me.”

“Why is that?”

“The courts weren’t inclined to let me take him off to foreign locales. My ex-husband’s family had something to say, I think.” Her eyes hardened perceptively and her shoulders stiffened. “I have filed numerous petitions for sole custody and they have all been thrown out.”

Interesting. “Why?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Not really any of your business.”

He settled back in his chair. “As deputy headmaster, I think you’ll find that’s not a correct statement.”

“As a man, I think you’ll find that you feel entitled to information for no other reason than you have a penis, whether it’s your business or not.”

He steeled himself, refusing to be set on his back foot by her blunt, provocative verbiage. “You seem to not think highly of men.”

She waved off the statement with a negligent hand. “On an individual basis? Sure, I think highly of a few men. My father, my brother, my brothers-in-law. I hope that my son will be a man to think highly of. As an institution? The whole of the biological sex that makes up men? I try not to make sweeping generalizations.” She examined her cuticles, casually unbothered.

“What was your earlier comment if not a generalization?” He tilted his head, watching her pretend not to watch him.

She shrugged, smirking. “I tried. I failed.”

“And your husband?”

“Ex-husband.” She caught his eyes and held them unflinchingly.

He was tempted to try legilimency, but he decided against it. He wanted information, to be sure, but not information at all costs. It was not war and whatever he thought she may be hiding, to pry into her mind without the justification of impending danger seemed wrong.

He acquiesced with a small nod.

“Beau?” She smiled coyly. “He’s a shining example of his sex. Surely a paragon. Which is exactly why I divorced him, an’all.”

He knew better than to wade into that water. “Why did the courts throw out your petitions?”

She shifted slightly and regarded him coolly. “Because despite claiming that they have entered into the modern era, Louisiana Court judges still can’t understand why a woman without means of her own, a former housewife in fact, would divorce her wealthy, well-loved, politician husband.” She paused and fanned herself with her hand, her accent deepening mockingly. “Well, it’s practically unheard of! She must be outside of her mind to even think it.”

A lone brow arched over a dark eye. “They judged you unfit.”

She shook her head, chuckling mirthlessly. “No, they could not do that. They have no evidence and defamation is a dangerous gamble to make. They tried, his lawyers brought it up once. It was pretty easy for me to dispense with. How lucky is it that one of my brothers-in-law runs the premier law firm in NOLA. His junior is better than the whole, very expensive team Beau hired with a fraction of the experience. Fish in a barrel, and all.” She smiled a shrewd snake smile.

He felt some part of him, long-buried from disuse, rouse and had to fight down his own answering smile.

Though she but little…

Severus nodded. “So shared custody, then?”

“The judge said fifty-fifty, so I guess they decided to play Solomon.” Nodding, she held up a finger, catching his eyes shrewdly. “But my son will be joining me here as soon as he turns eighteen.”

“How old is he now?” Severus wasn’t sure why he was so interested. He couldn’t imagine this woman doing anything nefarious.

His earlier suspicion had almost entirely abated in the face of her clear honesty. That and he could understand why she hadn’t wanted to talk about this at dinner, he could appreciate not wanting to open your chest in front of people who would surely judge you as many had likely done before.

She talked of her son with clear adoration and spoke of her situation with a bitter sarcasm that led him to believe that she knew she had been had and that there wasn’t anything she could rightly do about it.

But still- Severus ran the tip of his finger over his lip. But still that thrill remained.

“He turned seventeen seven months ago.” She smiled with an anticipation that lit up her face. “Any mandated custody is null and void in five months.”

“Seventeen?” Snape frowned.

Charlotte looked young, at first he thought that she was in her twenties. It was part of the reason he had been so suspicious as he watched her hedge and edit herself last night. What had she done in a relatively short amount of time that would warrant such evasiveness?

He knew better than to assume any magical person’s age though, such was the availability of anti-aging potions and charms. Regardless, she seemed too young to have a seventeen year old son. “How old-“

She smirked. “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a woman her age?”

He frowned. “You’re clearly younger than me, therefore I see no reason to demure.”

She giggled and pulled a face, waggling her eyebrows. “Maybe I look good for my age. My godmother always says that the humidity keeps NOLA young.”

“Humidity has nothing to do with it.” He rolled his eyes. “Aside from potions, charms, glamours and muggle plastic surgery, I don’t see how it could be reasonably possible for you to be substantially older than me.”

“I think you just complimented me.” She smiled wickedly. “Well, this all hinges on your age, so how old are you?”

He reckoned he should be irritated with her. She was playing with him, enjoying being obstinate, but he found that he wasn’t. She wasn’t being manipulative or disrespectful, just coy and almost playful.

It wasn't that she didn’t want to share the requested information.

She was making him work for it.

He sighed. “I’m thirty-nine.”

“Then yes, I am younger than you.” Charlotte smiled smugly but provided no further information.

“By how much?” He drawled.

She bit her lip to avoid giggling. “About five years. Give or take. I was born in 1965.”

He nodded, doing the math quickly in his head. He tried for an even tone, not wanting to come across as judgemental.

It was a novel sensation. He normally didn’t care how he was perceived. “You had a child before you turned eighteen?”

“I did.” She no longer seemed smug, retreating being a mask of guarded indifference.

“‘Life got complicated.’”

She nodded hesitantly. “It did.”

“He turns 18 in January, correct?”

“January 12th.”

The irony was not lost on him, three days after his own birthday. “I see, and what does he plan to do when he gets here?”

“Hadrien wants to pursue an apprenticeship.”

He nodded. “What is he interested in?”

“Potions and Runes.”

“What are you doing, Ms. de Vilierè?”

She started and blinked up at him, quill drooping a bit. “Huh?”

He rolled his eyes, jaw tight, staring down at her with a sneer she wasn’t sure she had done something to deserve. “What are you doing, de Vilierè?”

She shrugged, tired enough to drop the mask of polite indifference she had been conjuring to maintain employment. “Lesson plans?”

His sneer deepened. “In your nightclothes?”

She frowned and looked down at herself. “I’ll admit this isn’t office attire-“

“How magnanimous of you.”

“They’re sweats and a t-shirt!” She huffed out on a chuckle, hoping valiantly that he was kidding, at least, or worried about her health if ‘she caught a chill’ as Minerva had said the first time she had caught her similarly dressed.

Charlotte was starting to think that she would have been better off going to teach on Mars.

In the past two weeks since joining the staff, it had become pretty clear that she was fast becoming odd. While no one was outright mocking or mean, it was crystal clear that most of her colleagues thought of her with fond, if not patronizing pity. It irked her.

She may have thought the social rules in NOLA were stupid, and it was true that she often purposely ignored them to rankle the judgmental fools that relied on them, but she understood them and knew what to do to pretend if necessary. She wasn’t socially acceptable in NOLA, but that had been a choice. Here she was plain inadequate.

This week alone, she had been gaped at when she referred to her ‘pants’ (Remus had actually snickered at her before deigning to point out her faux-paus), she had been gently informed by Pomona that she gave ‘too much detail’ in conversation, Filius had patted her on the head when she had asked about the possibility of having a television, and-

And the man in front of her had taken near every opportunity to point out her shortcomings.

You’re doing lesson plans this late in the summer holidays, Ms. de Vilierè?

Yes, it does rain frequently. You did very little research, then?

Why is it always like this? She sucked in a breath and tried to calm herself.

Snape scoffed. “I know what they are, de Vilierè. Why are you wearing them outside-“

She forced a breath out through her nose. “I’m trying to understand, Sever-“

“Professor Snape.” He seethed.

She froze, staring at him. “I see. Professor Snape, can you please explain why you object to how I am dressed?”

He seemed to flounder slightly and she noticed the clammy pallor of his skin. She had the brief thought that something had happened, that he hadn’t sought her out to lambaste her.

He looked down his nose at her like she was shit on a shoe and she felt her chest tighten and her eyes burn at almost the same time as long suppressed rage boiled over. “Your complete lack of professionalism will reflect poorly on Hogwarts as an institution.”

“It’s midnight.” She sucked in a breath. “I fail to understand-“

“Clearly.”

She sent him a nasty glare. “I do not understand how it is unprofessional to be in a library in comfortable, warm clothing while attempting to complete tasks.”

“What if a student were to see you?” He threw his hands in the air.

She rolled her eyes. “First, the students won’t arrive for another month. Second, I was not planning on regularly roaming the halls dressed so casually once they do arrive.” She shook her head. “You are not stupid enough to assume that I would, surely.”

“Stupid?”

She nodded, a sarcastic smile on her face. “Yeah, stupid. Do you really think that I would’ve dressed like this if I knew I would be seen?”

“Then why are you dressed-“

“‘Cause it’s fuckin’ midnight, Snape! I was alone! There are no students and I had no reason to assume that I would have to speak to you!” She gesticulated widely. “This goddamn castle is cold at the best of times and I wanted to get somethin’ fuckin’ done! That’s why!

“I don’t spend all of my time thinking up ways to flout conventions I didn’t even know fuckin’ existed. I’m not standing in a corner, twirling a mustache, waiting for my chance to embarrass all of you. I just wanted to be out of my office because I thought I might get more done. And I wanted to be comfortable.” She was starting to run out of steam, and she blinked away tears. “That’s all.”

I will not give this asshole the satisfaction.

Snape stared at her like she had grown an extra head.

“Well? Nothin’ to say?” She scoffed. “Typical.” She waved her hand over her belongings, stowing them in the satchel she had transported them in after lunch. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“This conversation is not done.”

He advanced on her and she felt herself flinch, stepping back.

Worse, she saw Snape register her flinch. He stilled, shocked and suddenly pallid.

“de Vilierè-“

She swallowed, voice dropping into a nearly broken whisper. “I know that I am not what anyone expected. I recognize that there is a lot about me that is not-“ she sighed, “not ideal. My apologies. I’ll remedy it.”

She left and didn’t turn back.

Severus stared at her chair the following morning.

Her empty, un-transfigured chair.

His jaw clenched. He would not feel guilty.

His eyes darted to the door, imagining the sound of heeled shoes in the hall.

“What happened, Severus?”

He started and turned to Minerva. She had asked softly enough to not draw attention but he flushed. “I’m sorry?”

“Why is our favorite American not at breakfast this morning?” She sent him a look that made clear who she thought was to blame.

“Why should I-“

Pomona sipped her tea. “Because you have not stopped watching the door, dear.”

Filius cut into his mushroom. “Or the dear girl’s chair.”

Severus flushed. “She was in the library last night…”

Minerva nodded encouragingly. “She has been most nights. What of it, lad? She doesn’t seem to sleep well.”

He winced, noticing for the first time that Lupin and a few of the other professors had left, leaving him with Pomona, Filius and Minerva.

He sighed. “I had a dream and went for a walk and then she was there…” he dragged his hand down over his face.

“Dear me,” Pomona mumbled.

Severus nodded. “I was harsher than I meant to be, then I had any right to be.”

The look on her face right before she had walked away, blue eyes focused on the floor in front of her. He pinched at the bridge of his nose. The brokenness had been worse than the fear.

“I believe I may have scared off your replacement, Minerva.” His posture belied the dryness of his tone, collapsed in and fatigued.

Pomona set her tea cup down and the soft sound resounded in his head. She set her shoulders and asked, more stern than she had been since he was a boy. “What did you say?”

“I objected to how she was dressed- how casually she was dressed-“ he amended. “I called her professionalism into question-“

“Merlin’s bones, Severus!”

Minerva leaned forward, fury in her posture. “And what did she say?”

He glanced at Minerva, wincing. “That she recognized that she wasn’t ideal. That she wasn’t trying to embarrass us.”

Filius hummed, catching Pomona and Minerva’s eyes in turn. “Thought as much.”

Severus frowned. “Meaning?”

“I think Charlotte is feeling inadequate, maybe out of her depth.”

Pomona nodded. “We’ve all tried to help her adjust, but I think she may have more foolish pride than even you, Severus.”

“I think we have been doing more harm than help, whatever our intentions.” Filius crossed his arms across his chest. “I saw it when we had the conversation about the tele- telev- blast, what is it called?”

“Television.” Severus sighed heavily. “And I have been feeding into all of this. Bloody hell.”

“And you must apologize before we really do lose her.” Minerva pinned him with a sharp look. “We will all endeavor to apologize for our own parts and to be more understanding of her cultural differences.”

“Fuck.”

“Do you need something, Professor Snape?”

He winced, still facing the wreath of flowers he had been pacing in front of. He turned and stared down at her.

She was herself and there was a part of him that sighed in relief at her unbothered appearance, as if it let him off the hook.

Her hair was pinned back neatly, her complexion smoothed and perfected by cosmetics. She wore neat dark jeans and a fashionably oversized, deep green silk shirt, teetering elegantly on dark leather boots. She cradled a mug in one hand and directed a levitating stack of books with the other.

“Did you need something, Professor Snape?”

He shook himself free of his inspection of her. “I came to apologize.”

She arched an eyebrow and moved past him to open her office door. She glanced back at him and made a soft dismissive sound. “Mais… it’s not necessary.”

She strode into her office and set down the books and the mug. She seemed to take an extra moment to fiddle with papers on the desk before taking a deep breath and turning to him. She smiled, but it was hollow, empty and Severus felt his gut twist.

“All is well.” She shrugged. “No apology necessary.”

“I am sorry, de Vilierè, truly.” He swallowed. “It’s no excuse but I often take walks when sleep is difficult. I took my frustrations out on you. You didn’t deserve it.”

She smiled her hollow smile again. “Thank you. It’s fine, though really.”

He watched the shutters go down in her eyes and felt an answering hollowness in his chest. She is not likely to ever be open to me again, if she ever was.

He nodded and stepped further into her office. “Minerva said you also don’t sleep well-“

“You spoke to Minerva about last night?”

She seemed upset, her brow furrowed. He made a vague gesture, looking down and away. “She noticed you weren’t at breakfast and rightly guessed that I was the cause.”

He thought he heard her scoff, but the hollow smile was back when he glanced back at her.

“I see.”

He watched her for a small moment. “If sleep is an issue, I can retrieve a Dreamless Sleep potion for you.”

She shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. Thank you though, Professor Snape. I am capable of brewing a potion if I need it.”

He fought not to flinch. “Of course.”

Silence settled heavily over them and he set his jaw to avoid fidgeting.

She sighed sharply. “Was there anything else?”

He shook his head and moved to leave, catching the shimmer of a glamour out of the corner of his eye.

He turned back to look again and noticed that some of the smoothness he had attributed to her use of cosmetics was in fact a spell.

She is hiding.

He caught her eyes and held them. “For the record, de Vilierè, I know that you are capable and competent. My social skills are sorely lacking. I apologize.”

She turned away, the briefest flash of vulnerability swimming in her eyes before the shutters came down again.

“I’m fine.”

A dark owl sat ominously on the perch next to her desk, staring at her with large, round, dark eyes, a folded piece of parchment in its beak.

She breathed deep, fighting down a stab of panic. That’s not an owl I recognize. The Beauregards all have great greys because they’re bougie as fuck. It’s not their owl.

The owl vocalized softly and dropped the note. She reached for a jar of owl treats she kept by the perched, eyeing the owl as the owl eyed her back.

She held up the treat and reached for the note with her other hand. The bird took it almost gingerly and flew through her open window with the barest of whispers of wings.

None of them have ever had such a mild-mannered owl either.

Comforted by that fact, she unfolded the note and huffed.

Come to my office. -S

She was tempted to send her own note back and briefly amused herself with the look that would be on his face at dinner if she did.

Thanks but no thanks. -C or maybe How about you walk your happy ass up here? -C

She snorted and reckoned that being fired for being contrary after only a month wouldn’t do. He was the deputy headmaster after all.

She rubbed at her face, her temples twinging sharply.

Still, though the tension had eased considerably, she had spent most of the past two weeks avoiding him. Something he seemed to be aiding her in, by making himself equally scarce.

She could feel a migraine starting. She had spent the time since lunch in the library, alternately cataloging the reference material future students would have access to and watching for approaching company. It would be good to take a break anyways. She glanced down at the note and rolled her eyes.

Not much of a break.

She shrugged. Nothing to it, but to do it. At least, he’s interesting.

Sighing, she pinched at the bridge of her nose, chastising herself for continuing to entertain even an iota of interest in a man who plainly didn’t like her.

Glutton for punishment.

As if escaping that thought and the accompanying feelings, she all but sprinted out of her office and had to force herself to slow down and take her time walking down to the dungeons.

It truly was no chore to walk the long hallways and grand staircases and she imagined Snape would be less than delighted to hear that she actually enjoyed what he certainly thought was at least an inconvenience.

She grinned, maybe she should mention it.

But somewhere between her office and his, she forgot all about wanting to needle at him.

Such was the power of this place. She had thought that the mysticism of this place would have worn off by now, replaced with staff duties and routine, but it had yet to do so.

She breathed deep, enjoying the wet smell of old stone and the cool, clean air that got cooler and damper the further she trekked. The impending migraine lessened somewhat as if the magic etched into the stone could reach inside her and permeate the tangled mess of scars she often felt made of.

She shrugged. Maybe it could.

As if wanting to connect further with that possibility, with that power, she traced her fingertips into dips and crevices, scuffed the toe of her loafer against floors that had witnessed so much. Hundreds of years of history and conflict, a recent battle even. She kind of wished she had attended school here, as opposed to the Convent, with its rigid social rules and roles, a structure that she hadn’t been able to get free from no matter how hard she had tried.

But then this place has rules too. They’re just nicer about it. And I don’t fit in here anymore than I did at the Convent.

Sooner than she would have liked, she found herself in front of a blackened, aged wood door.

She took a deep breath and thanked whatever god applied that she hadn’t gotten lost. She hadn’t been paying much attention as it was and she had simply been shown what hall to traverse to find Snape’s office and classroom.

She knocked right under where his name had been painted in an elegant silver hand. S. Snape, Deputy Headmaster

She heard steady footfall on the other side of the door and marshaled herself into some semblance of professional disinterest.

He opened the door and by virtue of his height alone, filled the doorway. He cast a look over her, clearly taking umbrage with her jeans and cardigan ensemble. She bristled.

Be polite, Charlotte Theodosia.

She held up his note.

Be polite.

“You rang?”

He met her eyes and held them. “You came.”

She arched an eyebrow, slightly shocked by his tone and the unreadable something in his eyes. She swallowed, eyeing him in his trousers and shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His collar was undone, no cravat or tie to be found, and she caught her first sight of the remnants of the wound that nearly claimed his life.

She thought better of lingering overlong on that spot, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, and not to add to his obvious antipathy.

And honestly, she’d much rather keep looking.

Clearly having come from working on something, he bore all of the marks of potions-in-the-act. He was slightly flushed, skin dewy from the humidity of a cauldron. He had tied his hair back, inky strands slipping from a low ponytail that was losing its battle against gravity.

His limbs were long, his forearms looked strong, if wiry, and his hands were large with prominent veins and knuckles. There was strength and hard work written into his calloused fingers and she fought the slightly hysterical thought that Beau had baby-soft hands until he didn’t. Severus’ hands didn’t engender the same response.

But then Beau had never engendered anything other than fear and apathy from her. Snape, it seemed, called forth an emotional range she had not thought existed, or at least had no longer existed.

She breathed deep and worked to put that thought away.

There was a nasty scar on the inside of one of his forearms. She knew immediately what that was- or what it had been- and, shrugging, she met his eyes again. “I wasn’t aware it was an invitation. Felt more like a summons.”

He moved wordlessly back, a clear indication that she should enter.

She felt the air, heavy and loaded, and then broke eye contact, staring down at the toe of her loafer. She stepped past him and risked a glance up at him. He caught her eyes again.

He closed the door behind him and fought the urge to fidget with his collar or unroll his sleeves.

‘You came’? How bloody asinine. Collect yourself, Snape.

He honestly hadn’t expected her to show up at his office door. The note had been the result of a fleeting thought, one he hadn’t caught and suppressed before Blodeuwedd flew from her perch by his desk.

A thought born from lingering guilt and some cockamamie desire to see her outside of meals. Guilt and desire that led him to act rather rashly.

Not that she needed to know that.

But then here she was, dressed casually, comfortably, sans heeled shoes and cosmetics since the incident.

She was so small.

He had almost forgotten, her personality was bold enough to create a mirage of physical presence, but the top of her head didn’t even clear his shoulder. There was something soft and feminine in her oversized cardigan, which had slipped from her shoulder in an effortless show of allure that reminded him of the courtesans of old.

Courtesans? Hell, Snape, get a hold of yourself.

She looked around, some of the same wonder he occasionally saw on her face at meals when she didn’t think anyone was looking.

She crossed the room to look at one of the jarred specimens on his shelf, stretching up on the toe of her leather shoe. “Do you use any of these or are they just for intimidation?”

He considered her quietly for a short moment, unsure if she was mocking him or curious.

She glanced back at him, blue eyes genuine in her curiosity. There was no meanness that he could catch and he cleared his throat.

“Some of these specimens have been in this office since I was a student.” He watched as she meandered down the line of the shelf. “But generally, no, they are not ingredients.”

She smiled. “So, intimidation then.” She chuckled and caught his eye over her shoulder. “And something you inherited from potions masters in days gone past at that.”

“What is it that you Americans say? If it’s not broke, don’t fix it.” He sneered or, at least, he tried, it felt more like a wry twist of his lips. “It has worked for as long as anyone can remember, so why change it?”

She turned and her face was lit by the glowing liquid in the canister nearest to her. “I never did know when to leave well enough alone. When is well ever enough?”

He hummed. “Are you feeling philosophical, de Vilierè? You’ll not find a ready conversationalist in me.”

Snickering, she ran her finger over the edge of the shelf, nails a deep, almost black shade of purple. “For the record, we woulda gotten that saying from y’all. The language is called English, after all. And if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”

He scoffed. “Hogwash. The only thing broken is that grammatical structure.”

“Fair enough.” She threw her head back and laughed. “Back to the matter at hand then. You mean to tell me that tradition has kept preserved animal parts on the shelves of your office and you’ve left them there because it ain’t broke.” She tapped her finger against the glass. “So, then I can conclude that intimidation is precisely what you’re going for.”

He shrugged. “It gets me what I want.” At her look, he added. “Peace, quiet, a controllable classroom.”

She leaned her hip against the row of cabinets under the shelves. “My-oh-my, dontcha know you catch more flies with honey?”

Severus felt his chest warm at her coy smile. “Why would I want flies?”

She nodded. “I asked my grandmother that very same thing when she told me that it would be easier to get what I want if I played nice.”

He sneered. “We are generally not considered to be nice. Potions masters, I mean.”

“I dunno…” Laughing, she turned to stare at a preserved sheep’s heart. “I know a nice potions master or two.”

He knew that. That was why he sent the note to begin with. He shifted, suddenly aware of the time they had wasted… doing whatever it was they had been doing. “I’m aware.”

She turned and smiled up at him again. “Ah, so that’s why I’m here. I thought maybe this was some sort of tactic, a power play. Tryin’ to intimidate me or somethin’.”

No, I lack impulse control on occasion and we’ve been avoiding each other.

He rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t expend the effort. I don’t spend all of my time scheming and plotting, contrary to popular belief.”

She stilled, watching him with intensity. “So you haven’t tried to intimidate me?”

Staring into her very serious eyes, he again wished to use legilimency, his fingers veritably aching to retrieve his wand and do just that. “Are you intimidated?”

She turned and leaned against the door jam that led to his private study. She smiled and he was briefly relieved to see a real smile from her. It wasn’t the cheeky grin he had seen her share with Filius and Pomona, even Minerva recently, but it was some amount of progress.

Progress towards what? He lambasted himself. The most he could truly hope for was the warm professionalism he shared with Minerva and some of the other staff. To not actively be enemies.

That is all it will ever be, Snape. Don’t get your hopes up.

She had been watching him as he chastised himself. He thanked whatever god applied that he was already flushed from potions making.

Her smile took a cheeky, mischievous edge. “Should I be?”

“Answering questions with questions.” He sighed. “I have not tried to intimidate you, de Vilierè. I’m sorry that I have failed to communicate effectively.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, cher. You’re a very effective communicator.” She smiled, eyes dancing in the light of candelabra above her. “It’s just that I’m veritably bulletproof at this rate. Un-intimidatable, nearly.”

He should be irritated with her. Should take affront at her cheeky, cavalier attitude, but he found it almost refreshing that she didn’t shy away.

He had seen her eyes find what remained of his Dark Mark, had seen the comprehension on her face. He had been prepared for her to turn on her heel and sprint back upstairs.

After the Incident, he expected that she would.

But she hadn’t, she had shrugged.

He didn’t have time or predilection to examine his feelings on the subject but he didn’t have it in him to totally eschew the attentions of a pretty woman, however fleeting they likely were.

The silence stretched for a brief, but not uncomfortable moment, as they considered each other.

He motioned to the door behind her. “I have something to show you.”

He unwarded and opened the door, gesturing for her to enter in front of him. On his study desk, sat a stack of half a dozen or so books.

She lifted the first book and smiled down at the front cover. “My dad’s book!”

He breathed deep. “So, you are Theodosius de Vilierè’s daughter?”

She nodded and opened it, idly flipping through and reading his personal annotations. “Yep.” She glanced up at him. “Should I tell him he has a fan?”

He sent her a baleful look.

She chuckled. “I mean he’s read your work, he’d be pleased to hear you’ve read his.”

He ignored her. “Your father is a prolific writer.”

She nodded and picked up the next book in the pile. “He enjoys research and writing.”

He sighed. “Since you are Theodosius de Vilierè’s daughter, I have also found a book by your grandfather. Aurelius de Vilierè.”

She smiled. “The History of Southern Potions Making.”

“Quite.” He leaned back against his desk as she perused his annotations in the next book in the stack.

She set her fingertip over one of his annotations. “Milk Thistle as opposed to Milkweed?

He nodded. “Milkweed is not indigenous to Europe.”

She made a soft exclamation. “I’ll have to tell dad that.”

“Why did you not tell me who you are?”

She froze, a deer in the gaze of a predator, and he wondered at her reaction, having not intended to cause such a reaction. “What do you mean? I did tell you who I am.”

He nodded, aiming for a softer tone. “You neglected to mention who your father is, who your grandfather is.”

She relaxed and smiled, setting the book down on the stack. Wandering past his overstuffed bookshelf, she made a parody of looking at the titles, though her eyes were more often studying him.

“I really didn’t think it would matter.” She shrugged. “You didn’t seem predisposed to liking me and I’ll be damned if I name-drop to impress someone.”

He hummed. “Too proud?”

She shrugged. “Where I’m from, everyone already knows who I am, who my family is. It was nice to escape that, I think. Honestly, it was refreshing to be disliked because of something I did, separate from my family or what I was expected, but ultimately failed, to be.” She smiled again, though softer and more sad. “How dumb is that?”

“Your pot was too small.” He drawled. “I don’t dislike you, de Vilierè.”

She snorted. “Coulda fooled me.” She held her hands up. “Well, is that all, Professor? I am released on my own recognizance?”

He moved to stand, mistakenly knocking over a small stack of books that had been precariously placed on the edge.

She flinched minutely at the clatter, but Severus caught it. “What is it?”

She hummed and he noticed the tightness around her eyes and the tension in her neck and shoulders.

He scoffed and moved toward a closet in the wall opposite the bookcase. “Foolish woman.” He all but whispered and held out a vial for her to take. “You should’ve said.”

Migraine/Tension. 1-2x/day SS

She caught his eye with a speculative look.

“What?” He groused. “Take the bloody potion or give it back. I wouldn’t poison a colleague.”

She shook her head, before popping the cork and throwing it back. The difference was immediate as her shoulders dropped and her eyes fluttered open. She smiled, relieved. “I didn’t think you were going to poison me, for the record.”

He doubted that. It wouldn't have been the first time someone assumed negative intentions on his part.

She handed the now-corked vial to him and laid her hand on his elbow, getting his attention. “I assumed you didn’t like me, professor. Not that you’d poison me but that you wouldn’t expend effort on my behalf.”

“You can use my name.”

She tilted her head. “I’m sorry?”

“You don’t have to call me professor. It will be odd if you are still doing so when the students arrive.” He nodded, feeling supremely awkward when she shot him a cheeky grin. He shifted away from her, turning his back on her with a dismissive wave. “Now, I’m busy. You may leave.”

She nodded. “Alright. Thanks for the potion, Snape.”

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