#I am once again asking you to despise Severus Snape

[kember-writes]

[strawwritesfic]

Severus Snape x Female!Death Eater!Reader: Regret [Part 1 of ?]

Summary: Some people say hatred is one step away from love. Those people are wrong.

Rating/Warnings: T (sexual references; nudity; magical domestic abuse; fantastic racism; arranged marriage; a truly ludicrous premise for a Harry Potter fan fiction; one-sided!Reader/Sirius; one-sided!Snape/Lily; set in between Goblet of Fire and Order of the Phoenix)

Challenge: "115 Words" by BonitaWolfSpirit on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Part 2 Part 3

Regret

Morning arrived too gray and dreary to fill the small bedroom with sun. You woke with your hair splayed across an unfamiliar pillow, and thin, threadbare sheets twisted around your body. For a bleary moment, you wondered what in Merlin’s name could have interrupted your sleep. The fog pressed against the nearby window was too dark and quiet to have done so. Then you realized that the body next to yours was stirring.

A hook-nosed, greasy-haired man rose slowly from the bed. At the sight of his scrawny naked back, all your memories of the night before came flooding back—the kind of memories that ached.

“Where are you going?” you snarled as Severus Snape extracted himself from the covers.

He turned a quizzical black eye to you. At once, you snatched the sheets up and over your bare chest. During the previous night, Snape had seen more of your body than any man in your life, and yet shame burned in your cheeks at his seeing it in the relative light of day. That his gaze never once strayed from your face only fanned those flames higher.

“To see the Dark Lord,” Snape answered at last.

You peeked under the covers at the skin of your left forearm. “I didn’t feel my Mark burn.”

One of those false smiles of his that you so despised played across his mouth. “The call is for me alone. Or are you displeased to have your husband torn away from you so soon?”

A hard grin of your own met his. “Trying to get away from me already?”

“Forgive me.” Snape inclined his head. “I had not realized you wished to keep me around now that the deed has been done. Shall I ask him for more time for an, ah, honeymoon?”

“I can ask him myself if I so wish!” The nerve of Snape, to stand before you exposed and laugh at you. If he had not been the favorite of your master, you would have hexed him on the spot. “And I do not wish it,” you added. “I do not wish to see you ever again. Go on your ‘mission,’ and die. I would like it better that way.”

He tutted. “We’ve only been married a day. Let us not start quarreling. After all, the Dark Lord has blessed our marriage himself.”

“I had no choice in the matter, as you very well know!”

“Perhaps if you had been a little more like your sisters and found a suitable pure-blood spouse—”

“I would have been more useless to him.”

“—he would not have seen fit to reward me by giving you to me,” Snape finished as though you hadn’t interrupted.

“I am not chattel!” you snapped.

“If you had not been so enamored with a certain Sirius Black…”

“Do not,” you jumped out of bed, taking the blankets with you, “speak to me of Sirius Black!”

Your anger did not disturb him. “He thought of you like every other girl that came onto him, but he knew what you were. He wouldn’t touch you, would he?”

“Shut up!”

“And now you are chattel, to be bred for the pure world to come, and you deign to act as though the Dark Lord did not do you a favor by finding you a willing husband.”

“At least Sirius Black was pure!” you screamed. “What about you? How are you any better? You and your obsession with that filthy mudblood—”

Your words choked off as your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth. In front of you, Snape held his wand, snatched from the bedside table, his already ghoulish face twisted with rage.

“Do not,” he breathed heavily, “ever speak of Lily Evans that way again.”

Unable to answer, you simply glared at him.

“Do you understand?” he shouted.

Again, you made no motion to reply. There was a flash of light, and you flew into the air where you dangled from your ankle. Your only source of coverage slid to the floor. You were naked, and no matter how you struggled, you could not free yourself from Snape’s spell.

He took his sweet time sauntering toward your slowly twisting body. All the shadows in the room put his hooked nose in higher relief than ever. Still unable to speak, you glowered at him until the two of you were practically face to face.

“I,” he said in that high, dangerous voice of his, “am no more pleased by this situation than you are. However, if the Dark Lord wills it, we have no choice. We must make do. But if you ever, ever,” he grabbed your upside down chin, “speak of Lily Evans again, I assure you that I will do everything in my power to convince the Dark Lord your services do not require a tongue. Do I make myself clear?”

Your lips curled. A stupid mudblood could ruin your life even so long after her well-deserved death. Well, if your beloved husband wanted to spend his years pining over Lily Evans, you could at least appreciate her causing him pain.

As Snape let go of you and took a step back, you felt your tongue unstick. He raised a single eyebrow when you continued to keep quiet.

“Well?” he asked.

What choice did you have? If Snape had threatened you with death, there would have been no question of your decision. What he promised was far worse. However hard you had worked, whatever loyalty you had shown, the Dark Lord had more use for the man that stood in front of you.

“Yes,” you spat.

The saliva at his feet only brought a cold smile to his face. “Very good.” With that, he walked to the room’s wardrobe to dress. Before he turned to apparate, he looked at you again. “Do try to be patient. I’ll be home soon. Then we can begin our life of happily wedded bliss.”

At the same time he disappeared, you fell onto the bed. Your pillow muffled the hot, angry tears that bubbled up from inside you. Your sisters had been right. All that time, you thought you had mattered to your master, but in the end, your life had turned just as foggy and dark as the day outside the window.

[captains-writing-desk]

From Heaven and Hell

Universe: Harry Potter

Character: Severus Snape

Type: F!Reader insert

Words: 2,724

Prompt: Dude, Dude- I love your Snape works! ❤❤ Could you please do a Snape x Prof Reader where she is the hot new teacher and everyone gossips about her or sum? She's like a major flirt too so she flirts with Snape a lot. Eventually with the gossip and flirting he finally admits he likes her? Can end smutty or fluffy- surprise us! Thank you! Keep being awesome!

Note: I’ve done my best to research locations, layouts etc. But I’ve discovered a lot of contradictory information, so this is all going to go how I want it to go. No nit picking please

Guys. I’ve been gone for so long. I’m in such a rut, I feel so uninspired all the time. Sorry for the LONG wait. 💔

-

Something was happening and if anyone could find out, it would be one Professor Severus Snape. He had a nose for sniffing out trouble like a bloodhound and boy what a nose it was. He made a sweep of all the corridors on his lunch time stroll but everything seemed to be in relative order until he noticed the regular bustling noise that filled the corridors and the sound of the outdoors seemed to dissipate and compress into whispers. Then he noticed students had started to lean over the sides of the stone bannisters and other students on the grounds were looking in the same direction. How curious. He tried to peer over their heads but he was unsuccessful so headed to one of the sets of steps down to the grounds. He made it precisely 2.3 steps down when his purposeful stride immediately dissipated and the last 0.7 steps was spent holding onto the stone wall to balance himself as his body somewhat stuttered and moved itself to one side.

“Thank you.” You smiled and brushed lightly against him as you ascended the steps he had just taken. Severus’ gaze followed you lazily until you disappeared up the corridor, then his body snapped into action and went to catch up with you which proved more difficult with students blocking his path after they cleared space for you.

When he finally had caught up to you, you were being ushered away by Minerva and he had to leave it at that for now. Though he could not see you anymore, you certainly were fresh in his mind and did a good job occupying it for the rest of the day and apparently most of the students’ too. Severus had to interrupt no end of conversations and gossip about who this mysterious stranger was and how ‘easy on the eyes’ you were.

-

Severus had lost his train of thought so much that day that it never even crossed his mind that you were the new Arithmancy professor until the headmaster was announcing it to the students. He stared for a moment with his mouth slightly agape and clapped slowly, off beat with anybody else’s applause. He despised the fact that you had him stumbling over himself, well before even knowing your name.

Once dinner was over he watched you leave the hall before making his own move. The eyes that followed you did not go unnoticed by him either as he grit his teeth and walked faster, despite wanting to make sure you left first so he would not encounter you again.

“..No, no. It’s not important to our studies, just a preference but it can’t be helped!” He heard your voice then the headmaster bidding you goodnight as he approached the large doors out to the entrance hall. He peered around the frame and all seemed clear so he confidently strode to the dungeons entrance only he came to pause at the top of the steps and felt the need to look up the stairs, something was different which made his eyes narrow instinctively as he crept quietly to the bottom of the ascending stairs. He almost jumped when your own narrowed eyes appeared from the darkness.

“You.” He stated in no particular manner which amused you a little.

“It is me, yes.” You folded your arms and leant against the wall for a moment, “..and you are?”

“Severus Snape.” He remained fairly neutral in expression and tone until you started descending towards him, then he seemed a little startled as you held your hand out to him, repeating the name he had already committed to memory.

“So, Severus. You’re the reason I can’t have the dungeons for myself.” You resumed your stance leaning on the wall again.

“I suppose I am.” He responded in a more Snape friendly tone as the edge had been taken off.

“I was rather looking forwards to all the devilish little things I could get away with down there. Dancing with the devil perhaps.” Severus was too busy processing what any of that could insinuate to respond. “Well, I’ll try not to bother you too much but I may need some local knowledge from you at some point. Feel free to visit me in heaven sometime.” You winked then laughed at yourself, a terrible joke really but the tease of it worked enough.

“Of course.” He raised his brow, wondering what was with all the biblical crap, though judging by the smirk on your face, his expression had meant something else to.

“I look forward to your visit, Goodnight for now, Severus.” Shit. It meant acceptance of the invitation.

“Good night.” He mumbled back and watched you disappear up the stairs as you lit your way with your wand. He couldn’t help but notice how literal your heaven and hell joke seemed as he watched the white light fade, then glanced down his own set of steps before him, taking in the reddish hue of candles and torches. He shook himself from his thoughts and descended the steps to hell.

The next morning after breakfast, Severus found himself once again stood at the bottom of your stairs just being captivated by you and the conversation you were both having.

“Sir-” one of his students attempted to speak to him as they walked by but was cut off by the famous glare.

“Wait downstairs.” He instructed and returned to you with a softer gaze.

“Have I distracted you?” You laughed at his little interaction.

“I wouldn’t say so. I’ll be on time.” He reassured himself more than anyone.

“I shall try harder next time then.” You raised a brow suggestively then bid him a good morning and left him to go to his class.

-

Your little chats happened on a daily basis now, making good on your word to try harder to distract him and in the evenings they would run at great lengths and would always end when you asked if he wanted to come up rather than just sit around in the stairwell but he would always decline and retreat to his little cave. You wanted to make it your mission to get him into your room or vice versa, mainly for comfort but also it was just a more intimate setting but you weren’t going to force it. You enjoyed flirting with him and he never told you to stop or that he was uncomfortable but you weren’t just going to push through his boundaries like that.

Unbeknownst to you, he was rather hoping you would push his boundaries, although he didn’t quite realise that himself either, he would soon though. He would tell himself that you initiated everything and he merely listened and tolerated your company but he would now come face to face with the reality of the part he played.

It was after dinner one evening when you both walked back to those fateful stairs and he leant against the wall, preparing for a long conversation but you took a step up the stairs and turned to him.

“I’m afraid I’ve got a student coming in a moment so I can’t stay and chat tonight, you can always come knocking later if you want a late night chat though.” You winked at him, briefly noticing the disappointment in his eyes, then a glint of something like panic before he mumbled that it was alright and that he would speak to you soon then he left. The panic was very odd, but the rest was a sign to you that he enjoyed your company at least.

Once he got back to the dungeons he sat himself at his desk and thought for a moment. He had panicked a little when he had left but it wasn’t necessarily bad but it was certainly new. The reason being was that he realised you had both been speaking for weeks, almost never missing a day but only for things you were both required to attend. As a result he hadn’t given any detentions or anything which was fairly unusual for him. No, it must be that the students finally learned how to behave. That’s what he told himself anyway but his students were going to make him think again the next day.

-

He was running late after talking to you that morning, not that he would admit to it but he took his time getting to his classroom, especially when he heard the mention of your name from inside so he paused to listen.

“Merlin, what I wouldn’t do for that woman!” He heard one student say.

“Arithmancy is easy-ish right? I could get into that class.” Another asked but was scoffed at and told it wasn’t exactly easy.

“You seen the way she flirts with Snape? Not only is she stunning but she flirts- albeit questionable- with Snape which keeps him out of our hair.”

“You’re right! None of us have had detention in weeks, he’s the late one now AND if you ask me, I think he doesn’t want to give us detention because he wants his evening free for her. I bet you anything that those two are fuc-“ That conversation came to an abrupt end when Severus practically flew into the room which stunned everyone into silence. He had to put an end to what he was hearing for his own sake but he was too embarrassed about it to confront them so went about his lesson but he knew as soon as it was over he had a lot of mulling over to do. In fact, he barely left his room all day which didn’t worry you but it wasn’t half boring without him to talk to all day.

Almost a week it had lasted. His little phase of barely leaving his room and any chats you usually had had come to a stop. Maybe you’d pushed him too far, or perhaps he had come to realise he couldn’t be bothered to put up with your incessant chatting anymore.

You watched one morning as he walked in front of you yet again rather than beside you then disappeared down into his dungeons, You sighed and went to ascend your own staircase.

“Professor.” The voice of a student behind you interrupted your thoughts rather abruptly, he was no student of yours.

“Yes?” You smiled welcomingly, opening yourself up to any conversation this child wanted to have with you as they shifted nervously before you.

“Do you think you could start talking to Professor Snape again? I know I’m out of line here but he isn’t the same and when you did speak to him he was much nicer than before but now he just seems... off. It’s unsettling to tell you the truth.” You almost laughed at the cheek of the child but they said it so innocently and with genuine concern that you stifled a laugh and chuckled lightly instead.

“I’ll do my best. Now hurry along or you’ll be late.” You continued chuckling to yourself as you carried on up the stairs, wondering if you should take his advice.

-

Later that evening you stood at the top of the stairs, staring down into the darkness before forcing yourself down them. You reached his door and knocked before you could even contemplate doing it. You waited longer than you should have before trying again after there was no response but once again, nothing. You turned to leave and thought perhaps you should wait for him for a few minutes in case he was preoccupied somewhere else for a moment so you made yourself comfortable on the bottom step.

Still, he never returned and you gave up, thinking you would try again tomorrow. Walking back up you were consumed with just how boring everything was without him to help occupy your time. Sure, you had things to get on with but there were little gaps in the day now that felt so empty. Just before you reached the ground between the two staircases, purgatory if you were to run with the biblical themes you had going on for some reason, he came into view. He was coming down from the tower you resided in and for a moment, you both just stared at eachother, frozen.

“Just the man I was looking for.” You broke silence first, opting for your usual flirtatious inflection.

“I am?” He forced in a innocence to his tone.

“Yes. What were you doing up there?” You addressed the elephant in the room.

“I was looking for you. I waited a little while. What were you looking for me for?” He folded his arms and raised his brows, pushing the interrogation back onto you.

“Well,” So he wanted to play that game huh, “I’ve been awfully bored as of recent and you’ve been avoiding me all week. So, I thought why not entertain myself with bothering you for a while.” Alright, that was the real elephant in the room and he knew it.

“Ah,” His eyes were downcast for a moment as he briefly contemplated, “Why don’t you come down with me then and bother me for the evening.” He closed the gap between you and paused just before you with his arm gesturing down the stairs as an invitation.

“I just bloody climbed these stairs.” You groaned but turned around and started walking anyway.

-

Once inside, he got you both a drink and sat with you to have one of those conversations he was so used to having with you but before that could start, you had to know whether he even wanted to.

“Severus.”

“Yes?” He shifted uncomfortably at the seriousness of your tone.

“Don’t misunderstand me when I say I do enjoy bothering you and talking to you but do you tolerate my babbling or do you actually enjoy my company?” You found yourself unable to look at him as he took a moment to think, despite how direct the question was.

“I suppose I tolerate your babbling BECAUSE I enjoy your company. Although I wouldn’t call it babbling really.” That was a start.

“So you’ve just been busy this week and I’ve foolishly thought I’d done something?” You looked at him now, apologetically with what you had insinuated.

“Well, I’ve been busy thinking about something you’ve done.” He put a great deal of thought into what he was saying and it still came out like that? Your eyes narrowed.

“You’re being very cryptic.” You stated plainly and he sighed lightly.

“Truthfully, I’ve been thinking about you. You’ve managed to keep this hold over me which I’m not totally unfamiliar with but it’s still new to me, especially with the way it affects me. It’s been... difficult to come to terms with.” He took a shaky breath and waited for your response as he stared at your hands. He watched them reach out to his own hands before looking you in the eye.

“I know exactly how you feel.” You smiled reassuringly.

“However, I do need to take things slow. In regards to processing what it all is.” He was still on edge.

“It doesn’t have to be anything you know, just see what happens.” You offered.

“I know, but it is something. I’m just in unfamiliar territory.” He had colour in his cheeks now as he waited for your delayed response.

“So no dancing with the devil yet then?” You cocked your brow and he visibly relaxed.

“Well.. I wouldn’t say that.”

[malfoyheartsgranger]

You Just Go on Living

Summary: In which Draco Malfoy destroys himself to protect his lover.

A/N: I wrote this between 2 and 4 AM, so it’s a little shitty but I’ve had this little idea for a while and finally got around to writing it so I’m just going to post it, oops. I also did not proofread in the slightest... It’s gonna be a long one, and there will probably be a good bit of backstory also, so sorry if that’s not your thing, but I hope you enjoy the heartbreak!

(PS please ignore the inconsistencies with time travel info and the butterfly effect and whatnot in this fic because quite honestly I didn’t know how else to go about it. You’ll see what I mean!!)

Warnings: mentions of death

Word Count: 4.3k

. . .

Draco Malfoy knew what he had to do.

He had known since four nights ago when Voldemort made an appearance in his own living room. Draco Malfoy, surrounded on one side by laughing Death Eaters and on the other by the grim faces of his parents, watched as his own professor was murdered, while another one watched.

Severus Snape was Draco’s godfather, and this title came with certain duties, even above those of the Dark Lord, one of which being to protect Draco. Draco was unaware of this fact, but Snape had sworn to protect him at all costs, and while it seemed that the vow would have been fulfilled after Dumbledore’s death, Severus Snape still felt a sort of honor in protecting his godson. And, as much as he despised the notion, this meant protecting his heart as well.

And so after Voldemort’s theatrics at Malfoy Manor, Snape pulled Draco aside and told him the most heartbreaking news he would likely ever hear.

“The Dark Lord,” Snape drawled. “He knows of Y/N.”

Draco Malfoy’s solemn face instantly rose to look Snape in the eye, a sudden urgency to his actions.

“What?” he questioned, standing from his chair in the corner of the drawing room to be eye level with Snape. “What does he know about her?”

Snape bowed his head in some manner of helplessness, yet stayed silent as Draco turned on his heel to approach the fireplace. He rested his arm on the ledge above it for a moment before spitting out his words once again, although this time with much more aggression.

“What does he know about her? What does he know about Y/N?”

“Draco,” Snape began, but his usual slow tone was not a quick enough source of information for the desperate Malfoy boy.

Rather than repeat his question to the stone wall he faced, he spun around to face Snape. The look on his face was all the motivation the professor needed to prioritize his answer. He may not particularly like the boy, and he certainly did not like Y/N, but he understood what it was to have the Dark Lord find one’s weakness.

“He knows,” Snape said gravely, “of your relations with her.”

Draco ran his hands across his face and through his cropped hair in angst. “So you’re saying . . .”

“Yes, my boy,” Snape confirmed, knowing exactly what Draco would have to say, “he knows of your love for her.”

Draco collapsed back into his chair as Snape merely watched. He did not expect comfort, and he thought it would be rather strange if he were to receive it. And so Draco, alone, remembered last year’s looming threat of Voldemort harming his parents if he did not do as he was told. He had thought that in itself cruel, although this was not unusual for a creature as horrid as Voldemort, but he recalled being relieved beyond measure that the Dark Lord knew nothing of his relationship with Y/N Y/L/N. He had not known what he would do if she was used as a pawn, a motivational sacrifice.

But now he knew. He knew, and Draco did not know how, but he did. And Draco thought it odd that Voldemort had not yet flaunted that to him, or to anyone, but Snape knew. Logic told Draco that of course Snape knew; he was one of Voldemort’s most trusted allies, but his grief convinced him otherwise.

Draco’s hands paused in his hair and came to lay on his thighs, just close enough to the trouser pocket that contained his wand. He leaned forward from resting on the back of the wooden chair he sat in, and in a collected tone, asked Snape, “How does he know this?”

Hesitant, Snape replied, “I am not sure. Although, you and I both know he has countless sources of information, and—”

His voice suddenly louder and sharper, Draco said, “How do you not know? Surely he would have told you this also?”

It was at this point that Snape realized Draco’s thoughts, and he reached to quell them before they could truly take root. “I assure you—”

But Draco was too quick, and before Snape could let any more words from his mouth, Draco was out of his chair, grabbing Snape’s cloak in one fist and gripping his wand in the other. He held the tip of his wand to Snape’s cheek, and for a man who was usually so composed, Snape seemed almost . . . afraid. However, he had the right, for he had never seen his godson in such a state.

“What did you tell him?” Draco whispered, his face incredibly close to Snape’s, close enough that the professor could smell the scent of shampoo wafting from his hair and the tingle of mint on his breath. He cringed.

“I told him nothing,” Snape repeated. As Draco breathed heavily into his face, Snape moved excruciatingly slowly to pull his own wand from his robes. Upon success, he pushed the tip of it into the side of Draco’s torso, and when Draco felt the pressure, he immediately backed up.

Both of their wands raised, the two men stared at each other, one defensive, one anguished, each in dangerous states. Snape’s paranoid reaction to his words convinced Draco’s inconsolable mind even further of his guilt. And so he yelled this time, “What did you tell him?”

And he shot a curse at his own godfather. Snape merely blocked the spell and begged Draco to calm himself, but before the boy could even send another curse toward him, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy rushed into the room, both concerned with the noise. Voldemort had left, and along with him any commotion, so the Manor had been silent, until the sound of Draco’s shattered voice rang through the halls. Upon seeing her son and old friend seemingly preparing to duel, Narcissa Malfoy approached Draco, and he finally noticed her.

“Mother, go,” he urged her, not wavering in his hostility toward Snape, though softening his voice a bit for his mother. Narcissa saw her son’s hands shake a bit as he aimed his wand at Snape, but he never shot another curse. Something in him broke a bit when his mother entered the room, and perhaps it was because of her lack of hesitation in approaching him despite his clearly unsteady state. Lucius did nothing, though Draco would admit his presence alone intimidated him out of trying to harm Snape further.

In a moment of weakness, or perhaps strength, Draco stalked from the room and into the gardens, and it was in the following moments of solitude that he realized what his next step had to be: what he had to do to protect Y/N.

. . .

Y/N Y/L/N’s reaction upon seeing her boyfriend was always hearty. This was mostly due to her cheerful demeanor, and that it always took her a moment to read Draco’s own mood and subsequently shift hers to fit it.

And so when Draco Apparated to her home just days before the start of their last year at Hogwarts, she needed time to adjust to his obvious devastation.

She heard a pop outside her bedroom window some time in the early afternoon, and when she looked outside, she was delighted to see a head of blonde hair headed for her backyard. That was her and Draco’s spot when she was home, and he knew that she always heard him arrive and did not need to announce himself.

Y/N threw on a sweater to brave the crisp air outside and rushed down the stairs to meet Draco. She swung open the door in the kitchen that led to her grassy backyard and nearly shouted a greeting to her boyfriend, but she noticed that he was sitting, slouched, on the brick wall around her mother’s garden, and his head was hanging low, so she sobered her presence.

Not realizing the severity of his state, Y/N still maintained a certain level of joy in his appearance. She walked around the dirt patch of fruits, vegetables, and regular flowers, and stood in front of Draco. She furrowed her eyebrows a bit and teased, “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

When Draco did not answer and continued to stare at the grass beneath his dress shoes, Y/N sighed and took a seat next to him. She knew life had been terrible to him recently, especially after last year. She had been the one to convince him he was better than Voldemort’s plans, and so Draco had not harmed anyone. He had tried desperately to destroy the Vanishing Cabinet, but to no avail, and Y/N did her best to pull him through the guilt that wracked him every day because of it. It had been unbelievably difficult to forgive him for what happened because of his actions, but she had already fought so hard to convince him that he could survive Voldemort’s threats, and it seemed she was the only one who could do so. If for no one else, Y/N stayed with Draco Malfoy because he needed her, and because he would destroy himself without her.

And consequently, it was Draco Malfoy’s most menacing fear, that Voldemort would come to realize his love for Y/N. And now he had, and Draco had tried to find any solution but the one he could come to to deal with this fact. But every plan had a roadblock, most of them being that Y/N would wind up hurt, and after all she had sacrificed for him, Draco could not allow that.

“We need to go somewhere else,” Draco whispered, and his tone immediately filled Y/N with dread.

Yet, she quickly responded, “Anywhere,” and without another word, Draco took her hand and Apparated them away.

After the initial shock of the Apparition, Y/N adjusted to her surroundings to find that Draco had already begun walking away. They were on a shore of some sort, although Y/N had no idea where, and Draco was walking along the sand, away from her, under a grey sky.

“Draco!” she shouted, but he did not turn around, and she assumed the crashing of the waves was disturbing his hearing. However, she chased after him, tripping through the sifting sand, and he still did not respond to her repeated shout despite her new proximity. He did not seem to be heading toward anything in particular, and as Y/N looked around even further, she could not find anything that he even could be aiming for.

So caught up in her own thoughts and determination in reaching her horribly despondent Draco, Y/N did not even realize that he had suddenly stopped walking and was staring at the sea. So when she took a break from watching her own feet to ensure their stability and was met with a prompt crash into somebody else, she gasped. Without a word, Draco gripped the top of her arm to stop her from tumbling over, and she couldn’t say she wasn’t grateful, but she was also infuriated.

“Draco Malfoy,” she scolded. “You Apparate us to the middle of nowhere, with no warning, and then leave me practically stranded down the shoreline? Merlin, I hardly had time to figure out where I was before I had to start chasing you down—”

Draco spoke. “Y/N. Please.”

Just the tone of his voice was enough to silence her, for despite her frustration, she would always listen to Draco.

She softened immediately. “What’s wrong?”

Draco, without granting her even a quick glance, continued to stare at the waves, and the shores upon which they crashed. “I’d like to think that I’m out there in some other life.”

Y/N said nothing.

“That maybe I’m a wave in the ocean, and you’re the sand.” He paused. Shook his head. “No. Then again, perhaps it’s the other way around. Yes, you’ve always been the ocean, so I suppose I’m the grain of sand.”

“Maybe we could both be waves,” Y/N suggested, not quite sure where Draco was going with this, but knowing it would lead to him defaming himself in order to raise her up. “Maybe we’re small waves that meet and make something big.”

Draco scoffed. “You’ve always thought too highly of me,” he mumbled. “You think the best of people like me.”

“Of course I do,” she protested. “You’ve given me no reason not to. Even when you thought you were irredeemable, you proved yourself wrong.”

“No,” Draco interrupted. “I’ve proven myself right this time.”

Confused, and a bit shaken, Y/N whispered, “Draco, you’re scaring me. What’s happened?”

A beat of silence.

A wave’s thunder.

A recession of water.

A lifetime of uncertainty.

“He knows, Y/N,” Draco finally said. “He knows.”

The grim look on Draco’s face was all Y/N needed in order to know that he was speaking of Voldemort. No one else, not even his father, could instill such simultaneous fear and disgust in the eyes of Draco Malfoy. Their peers dubbed him a coward for joining Voldemort’s side, but Y/N knew the truth: knew that he had no intention of ever again following through with one of his dark plans. She knew that he was incredibly afraid of what his role entailed, but that he faced it in order to protect those he loved. He was called a coward, but Y/N thought Draco Malfoy was the bravest person she had ever met.

And for someone so brave to look so grave in this moment, in her presence: the place he usually felt most at peace . . . Well, it was disturbing. And there could be nothing else but her safety that would have Draco so troubled, so after a moment, Y/N understood what he meant. On the surface, this seemed to be an unconcerning issue. After all, so what if Voldemort knew that Draco had a girlfriend? Her blood status was not an issue. She was a half-blood, after all. But when she went to voice this, she remembered how Draco had been threatened with his family’s safety last year. How Voldemort swore that if he did not complete the task at hand, his parents would be killed. How if he found out Draco loved someone else, he would approach his threats with the same mercilessness.

As soon as the realization struck her, Y/N shifted her thinking to formulating a plan. “I’ll hide,” she suggested. “I’ll go somewhere he can’t find me. I’m not sure if the safest place would be Hogwarts, that might be too obvious.”

“Y/N,” Draco spoke, although she did not hear.

“My parents,” she continued frantically. “I’ll have to tell them or - or send them away, I don’t—”

And this time, when Draco repeated her name, with more urgency in his voice than she had ever heard, Y/N noticed. After the initial aggression with which he spoke her name, Draco’s voice softened. “Nowhere will be safe enough. He’ll find you. No matter what.”

Her body went cold.

Draco was a man of extremes. A man of loyalty and ferocity and an innate desperation to protect those he cared for, no matter what the cost. He had proven so before. There was no doubt in Y/N’s mind that he would do anything to keep her safe, even if that meant breaking her heart, along with his own.

“No,” Y/N protested, sure she knew what Draco was thinking. After all, how many times had she been able to finish his sentences for him? How many times had she read his mind before he even formulated a thought in his own consciousness? How many times had she known what he would do, how he would act before he knew so himself? “We’re not breaking up. I’m not letting you go through this by yourself Draco, we’ve seen how—”

“I’m not breaking up with you,” Draco said solemnly. It had been what felt like a lifetime since he looked at her, since he touched her.

But Y/N was too relieved at his words to comprehend the stern tone with which he spoke them. She released an alleviating sigh, thanking the universe that Draco had not gone to extremes this time, that maybe he would let her help him and they would confront this together.

“But we can’t be together either,” he continued after a moment. Y/N’s shot from the sky above her to the boy who stood stoic next to her. She tilted her head in confusion and opened her mouth to voice her bewilderment, but before she could let out more than a syllable, Draco clarified. “It’s not enough to part ways, Y/N. I’ll still love you, and he’ll still know that. I can’t care for you at all.”

This time, although still perplexed, Y/N did not move to speak. Rather, she allowed Draco to think aloud.

“A memory charm won’t be enough either, not even on the both of us. I’ve heard lovers can still feel a connection between themselves after their memories are taken. And I can’t think of any other solution . . .”

When he did not continue, Y/N whispered, “What does this mean?”

“It means I need to make a reality where I never fell in love with you.”

She furrowed her eyebrows at the sea. “If I even considered entertaining this idea, how in the hell would you go about that? We’re wizards, Draco, but even we can’t change the past to that extreme. There’s no way to—”

She stopped speaking, stopped the flailing of her arms, stopped breathing, when Draco Malfoy pulled a Time-Turner from his pocket. Even without knowledge of how Draco planned to use it, Y/N would have been shocked at his possession of one. Time-Turners were extremely rare, likely due to the peril they risked, and the last she had heard of someone owning one was Albus Dumbledore himself.

“How did you—”

“My father stole it,” Draco filled in the gaps. “I know it’s not an honorable way to come into possession of one, but I plan to use it nobly.” He turned to look at her, finally, for what seemed like the first time in years. He met her eyes for a split second, then shifted them to the charm that lay in his open palm. He grasped it shut. “Point is, Y/N, I have it, and I intend to use it to protect you. I’ll go back to before we met, I’ll prevent it, I swear.”

“Draco, you can’t just make this decision,” Y/N professed angrily. “I know I’m in danger, but I never thought loving you would be completely safe. I mean, come on, you’re Draco Malfoy. Even without You-Know-Who, your friends serve a mighty threat.”

“This isn’t a joke, Y/N.”

“I know it’s not, Draco. But this is my life too.”

When he looked up, Y/N thought he would meet her eyes, but they instead drifted over her face and to the clouds above them. He threw his hands in the air in frustration, still clasping the Time-Turner with all his might. “And that’s exactly why I need to do this! I can’t be the reason you lose it! I need to make this world so that I never put you in danger by falling in love with you.”

Y/N was not one to back down from a fight, but even she knew there was nothing to be done to change Draco’s mind. The only thing that had ever been greater than Draco’s love for her was his fear of Voldemort, and in this moment, his two phobias were colliding. And that meant there would be no steering his proposed course of action.

So rather than continue to fight him, although she desperately longed to, Y/N sat in the sand and motioned for her forlorn lover to join. He appeared hesitant, but the fact that Y/N was no longer protesting him convinced him to lower to the ground. Y/N had always been the only one able to drag him out of his conservative shell. As unproblematic an action as it seemed, Draco Malfoy would not be caught dead sitting in damp sand in the presence of anyone but his Y/N. Something about her made him forget about the trivial issues of everyday life. Sometimes she cleared his mind completely, but it was much too cloudy today for him to hope for such an outcome.

As soon as he was seated next to her, Y/N rested her head on his shoulder.

“I know there’s no way I could change your mind, but is there a chance I could convince you to wait a bit?” She looked up at him, his blue eyes, his light hair, his perfect face. “To give us some time just to be here?”

She felt his chest move with a deep breath, and she saw his head dip with a wordless nod.

And so Draco Malfoy and Y/N Y/L/N sat on an unknown, unnamed shore, exchanging stories of their time together, of the highs and lows, the laughs and tears, for what they both knew to be a long time, but what felt like none at all.

They recounted their night at the Yule Ball, and Y/N told him it was the first time she had ever seen him truly carefree. He told her he used to despise her for supporting Harry Potter, and she laughed knowingly, assuring him she already knew, but glad that he had learned to agree with her views (although only tolerate the boy). She remembered how jealous she had been when Pansy Parkinson was his Potions partner but how relieved she felt when he admitted he smelt her in his Amortentia.

And when the words were no longer enough, Draco and Y/N sat in silence, with only the crashing waves as ambience, and they watched the sun set an ocean away from their problems. Tears fell from both lovers’ eyes, especially when Y/N sat back and placed her hand on Draco’s cheek.

“You know I don’t want this,” she whispered. “But I know that you’re going to do it either way. Because that’s just who you are. You’ll do anything to protect those you love. But Draco Malfoy, before you do, I need you to know,” she paused, blinking harsh tears from her stinging eyes and trying to ignore those forming in Draco’s own, “that there is no reality in the universe in which I do not love you. I will love you in any and every world that allows us to meet.”

Draco tugged his lips into his mouth and closed his eyes momentarily. When he opened them again, the pooling tears escaped. “And I you. Always.”

Without another word, Y/N pulled Draco’s face to her own and met his lips softer than ever before. They were both shivering at this point, but as soon as their lips connected, their bodies warmed. Draco tugged Y/N into him with a hand behind her neck, and deepened their kiss just enough to communicate his love, his yearning for another lifetime of such kisses. The kiss broke with Y/N’s shuddering breath, and she rested her forehead against Draco’s, her hand still holding his face. She felt wetness pooling at the tops of her fingers, and she swiped across Draco’s face with her thumb, all the while her eyes closed.

“You know I only wish to keep you safe,” Draco sighed. “I would not do this if I did not truly believe it to be the only way.”

Y/N nodded, and sucked in a sharp breath at the sound of a tick.

She opened her eyes to see Draco’s hands around the Time-Turner under their faces and quickly looked up at him. For a moment it seemed he would not meet her gaze, and Y/N panicked, thinking she would be forced to abandon this world looking into something other than her lover’s eyes.

But then Draco looked up, and in his mind, he wavered. He could not leave her. How could he possibly think he would be okay without her?

But if they stayed, he would eventually be without her when Voldemort reached her, and that would hurt infinitely more.

Another twist of the Time-Turner.

Countless more.

“Wait.”

Draco’s hands stilled.

“What do I do?” Y/N spoke. “The me in this reality? What does this me do without you?”

Draco shook his head slightly, almost in pain, but before he resumed his motions, he offered, “You just go on living, I suppose.”

One last turn. A twist in time. A seal of fate.

. . .

It is snowing at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

A young girl is walking to class with her peers, smiling wondrously at the frenzy of snowflakes. A blond boy walks the same path with his own companions. He races ahead of the two boys with him and crafts a snowball out of fallen snow in his gloved hands.

In another, much more fortunate reality, the same events conspire. However, in this universe, when the boy throws the pack of snow, it hits Harry Potter, his intended target, rather than the back of the beautiful girl’s head. So she hurries her pace upon predicting a brawl and ducks into the castle, already on the way to her next lesson. The boy smirks at his friends and mocks Harry Potter’s misfortune. In this universe, Y/N Y/L/N and Draco Malfoy never meet.

And so, years later, when Draco Malfoy’s heart breaks, it is not because he lived to regret falling for Y/N Y/L/N, but rather because he never got the chance.

. . .

my stories

[meganlpie]

Mentor

Based on this request:  May I request a imagine where the reader is a Gryffindor who is a really good chaser, dueler and popular student. Snape despises her at first of course even though she wants to become a potions master. She doesn’t let his mood discourage her and with the help of her best friend Hermione and favourite teacher Slughorn she manages to build a mentor student relationship with the grumpy bat of the dungeons?

Here you are!! Once again, familiar characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

Warnings: Snape being grumpy...I think that’s it.

Pairings: fem!reader, Severus Snape (no pairing)

You couldn't understand what Professor Snape had against you. You couldn't recall having done anything to warrant it. All you had done was ask for his help. Still, you weren't going to let his standoffish attitude deter you from accomplishing your goal of becoming a Potions Master. Just like him. To that end, you turned to others for help. You were going to prove Snape wrong.

         You enlisted the help of your best friend. She tutored you constantly, along with the new Potions professor, Slughorn. He was, by far, one of your favorite teachers, although he was a bit eccentric. But he was no Professor Snape. Snape was who you wanted to prove your worth to. You worked hard, improving your Potion making day after day.

         You worked tirelessly until one day, you knew you'd done the best you could. You had managed to brew three of the most difficult potions that students were allowed to brew. Now, you were going to show them to Professor Snape. Once you could catch him anyway. Outside of Defense Against the Dark Arts, you hardly saw the man. But one day, you finally managed to catch up to him. He had stayed later in his classroom than usual.

         "Professor Snape?" He looked up in surprise. You almost missed the look since he schooled his features quickly. "Miss Y/L/N, I trust you have a good reason for this interruption?" You nodded and slowly approached his desk. One at a time, you pulled the vials of potions from your bag. "I brewed these to show you." He glanced down before looking at you once again with a raised brow. "And why? I am no longer your Potions professor."

         "No you are not. But you told me once that I didn't have the focus or determination to adequately brew these potions safely. I set out to prove you wrong. I worked and studied a long time. I want to be a Potions Master, Professor. And I would be grateful and honored to learn the most advanced potions from you."

         Snape sat back in his chair slightly, looking at you so intently you swore he could kill you where you stood with just that look. "Surely you would rather Professor Slughorn teach you?" You automatically shook your head. "No, Professor. Professor Slughorn is a good teacher. Truly he is. But he is not you. I need to learn the best potions from the best Potions Master I know. Please Professor. Just, look at the potions. Then decide. That's all I ask."

         Snape merely studied you with his black eyes for a moment. You waited, albeit a bit impatiently. You didn't have any more classes for the day, but your friends were expecting you. Slowly, Snape sat back up fully and pulled the closest vial toward him. After examining the bottle, he carefully uncorked it. You weren't worried about him getting hurt even though they were powerful and potentially dangerous potions. He knew what he was doing. Not to mention, you had antidotes in your bag if necessary.

         The classroom was eerily quiet as you waited for him to say something. You needed his approval. After a few moments, Snape looked at you again. "These are…adequate." You felt your heart deflate. Adequate? You'd worked so hard and now you felt defeated. That is, until he spoke again.

         "They show promise. Perhaps I was hasty in my judgment of your abilities." You couldn't fight the smile on your lips even if you tried. That was the closest thing to a compliment you would get from him at this point. He hummed to himself before reaching into his desk for a book that looked suspiciously like a journal. "Study the first three potions written in this book. We shall have lessons every Tuesday and Thursday after classes unless I say otherwise." You took the book and nearly ran from the room when he dismissed you with a wave.

*time skip*

         Your forehead was slick with sweat and you were pretty certain that if Snape watched you any closer, you'd put too much of one ingredient in and blow up the entire school. You did not want to start being compared to Seamus. Not when your potions work had improved leaps and bounds since you'd begun working with Snape. Very careful, you put exactly 6 drops of the ingredient and began stirring it counterclockwise seven times. Snape had you working on a very precise potion. If you messed up, it would be disaster for everyone. Snape would hate you then.

         Actually, working with Professor Snape one-on-one wasn't nearly as bad as in the classroom. He had more patience since he had time to work with you on what you'd messed up on. He still grew irritated easily when you made stupid mistakes, but you had learned how to either ignore it or soothe it in order to correct your mistakes. You'd been working with him for months now and he was finally letting you try one of the more complicated potions in his book.

         You finished stirring the potion and took a step back ready for Snape to judge your work. You bit your lip as you waited. Snape took his time examining the potion. You knew you had done the steps correctly, but that didn't necessarily mean the potion was up to his high standards. The minutes waiting for him to say anything felt like an eternity.

         When he finally looked at you again, you saw something you never thought you ever would. Not in a million years. Professor Snape was smiling. Well, it looked a lot like a small grimace, but you would take it as a smile from the usually grumpy man. "You have most definitely improved. I would be surprised if you didn't receive full marks on your exams." You nearly jumped up and down in your excitement. "Really? Thank you, Professor!"

         "It isn't often that I have to admit that I was wrong. But I was in your case. You have become quite proficient." You felt your chest blooming with pride. You didn't think you'd ever get his approval. And now he was saying that could actually achieve your dream. You wanted to cry, but you kept it bottled up. As soon as he dismissed you, you thanked him again and practically ran to find Hermione. You couldn't wait to tell her and more importantly, you couldn't wait to prove to your new mentor that you could more than live up to his new expectations.

(a/n: I hope this is what you were looking for!)

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[mrsseverussnape]

Love Is You - chapter 13

A/n: Don’t worry Snape scenes will come soon and they will be stronger😉 but first Scar needs to take care of other things🙄

    Scarlett went to Ministry of Magic to visit Amos Langley the very next day after the meeting as she said. Before she entered the building took a deep breath; every day for years she came here happily to work but now it felt different. The ministry was one of her favourite places, she literally grew up in here because of her parents’ job; her mother Aurelia was the former minister of magic and her father Ricardus was the head of the auror’s department. But now this place gave her heart ache after the divorce and Arabelle. Scarlett shook those thoughts off and got on the elevator to go upstairs where his office was. When she arrived the floor, she changed her mind and decided to see the minister first and went to his room directly. Dorian welcomed her happily, but Scarlett could tell he’s still very distressed, he was looking even more tired and scared since they met in the cabin. They had a small chat and Scarlett let him know that she talked to Dumbledore without saying it out loud, during the years they worked together Scarlett and Dorian have created their secret signs to communicate during dangerous situations. Dorian looked a little bit relieved after knowing that the order will take an action. Scarlett kept the visit short, they were trying not to look suspicious if someone was watching him. She said goodbye and left to visit Amos Langley whose room was the right next door. Scarlett put a fake smile on her face before knocking on his door, then heard his arrogant voice that invited her in. His eyes widened when she entered the room with confidence. She has visibly changed the last time he saw her, old Scarlett was back apparently, Amos thought to himself.

“Miss Rose, i wasn’t expecting you. What a surprise.” He stood up to welcome her.

“I thought, i should pay you a visit back. Hopefully, you have some free time for me?” This time Scarlett held his hand quite strongly while shaking it, it was a payback time. Amos’s eyebrow raised in surprise.

“I can always spare time for you, Miss Rose. Have a seat.”

She sat on the brown leather chair, it felt weird to sit on the other side of the table now then she took a look at her old room. It has quite changed, the décor was totally different and uglier now and she couldn’t help but felt sad about it. She has spent her years in that room, it was her second home. While she was re-living some memories in her head, Amos served tea for both.

“Thank you. Did you get used to your new job, Mr. Langley?” Scarlett took a look at the tea but decided not to drink it, she didn’t trust Amos enough drink something from him.

“Just call me Amos. And yes it is going very good, I have plans.”

“I heard you finally abolished the law. What is your next move? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Like i said before, the law was way too harsh. And now i am planning to take them into services to gain those good witches and wizards back to community. I employed some of them here already.” He was looking very proud while talking about it which Scarlett despised.

“Don’t you think they are a risk to the community?”

“No, not as much as the muggle lovers. At least they won’t be causing the end of the wizarding world. You are a pureblood Miss Rose, you shouldn’t be on muggles’ side. Choose your side wisely, your acts might hurt you in the end.” He looked directly in her eyes, trying to intimidate her but he didn’t know the woman in front of him was not the type who would be easily scared.

“You are very thoughtful for warning me, thanks. But Amos, a half blood like you shouldn’t be very brave about that topic, you might get hurt too. After the muggleborns, next step is the half bloods. And once the death eaters gain their power back, they won’t care about you at all. You are a just a toy for them. But me, I came from a very old and wealthy pureblood family also I am a very powerful witch; they cannot dare to hurt me.” Scarlett stated everything so calmly but confidently, tables have turned so quickly and Scarlett was the one who is intimidating.

Amos’ face got redder with each word she said, he was biting his lip unconsciously. He didn’t know she would be that bold, apparently she was more dangerous than he thought. He was sure she was out of the game after the divorce, he wasn’t expecting her to collect herself back. His angry and confused expression made Scarlett grin, she enjoyed how her words annoyed him. “I better leave, I suppose you have things to do. Have a good day!” Scarlett cheered happily to annoy him even more, the stood up to leave with a hair flip like nothing happened. Amos couldn’t say a word and just watched her go, eating himself up with anger.

<<< 

    Couple of days have passed since Scarlett’s visit to Amos Langley and since back then she was feeling like someone is stalking her, whenever she was out she sensed a pair of eyes were watching her and made her feel uneasy. And tonight when she went to the kitchen to drink water, she saw a person in black in her garden who was directly looking into her from the other side of the window. They looked at each other for a split second before the person run away and got lost in the dark. Scarlett froze in her place unable to do anything for couple of seconds. She could hear and feel her heartbeat in her chest, she was shaking which caused her to drop the water glass she was holding. The night was long and Scarlett didn’t want to spend it alone after the unwanted encounter. But her parents were not in the country, Remus, Carina and Severus were at Hogwarts so she couldn’t call them either. There was one option left, Sirius. She wasn’t willing to call Sirius over since she wasn’t in good terms with him at all but she was already feeling unwell for couple of days and now plus to that she was scared; if someone broke into the house tonight, she wasn’t sure if she could handle it by herself. She was in a dilemma about Sirius and thought about it for some time but eventually she decided to send a patronus message to him. Within a minute Scarlett heard a pop sound from an apparition which startled her in fear at first and she grabbed her wand. Then she saw a worried Sirius who was looking around to see her and their eyes met.

“Scar darling what happened? You alright?” He sat down right next to her on the sofa worriedly.

“Thank you for coming Sirius. Sorry if I interrupted you but I had no one to call...”

“It is fine, of course you would call me. Tell me what’s going on?”

Scarlett told him about her suspects beforehand and then tonight’s encounter.

Sirius frowned angrily, stood up drawing his wand out. “I will find that asshole! Why the fuck he is stalking you!?”

Scarlett sighed and pulled him down by his jacket to make him sit down. “I might have threatened the deputy minister on Monday...” Then she told him about the conversation between her and Amos Langley. After she’s done with talking, Sirius let out a loud laugh, his angry behaviour was gone.

“That’s my girl! I would die to see his face all red and shocked, I hate that fucker!”

Scarlett couldn’t help and joined him laughing after Amos’s face appeared in her mind. “It face was priceless!” And she tried to imitate his expression and Sirius was laughing his ass off at this point.

The tense air was gone, and Scarlett was feeling less scared with a company by her side. They talked for some time until Scarlett couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. She wasn’t able to sleep through the night for couple of days because of her fever.

“Go to bed and sleep. I will stay here, you don’t need to worry.”

Scarlett yawned while rubbing her eyes. “I will sleep here on the sofa. Wake me up if you see someone or something suspicious.”

Sirius knew she wouldn’t change her mind even they argue about it so he didn’t try to send her to the bedroom again. “You forget you are with the head auror here. I will destroy them so smoothly, you will keep sleeping like a baby.” He said grinning.

“Ah how could i forget that...” she smiled sleepily and curled up on the sofa like a cat.

Sirius did accio a blanket and put it on her tenderly. He watched her sleep and softly caressed her ginger hair, trying not to wake her up. It made him happy that she still thinks he can protect her and she feels safe with him even after what he has done to her. He did swear to himself not to betray her trust ever again.

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[elizoearn]

HOME AT LAST

CHAPTER 1

Summary: Harry has finished his fifth, and worst, year at Hogwarts, and he now has to face a summer from hell at the Dursleys, until Albus decides that it is time to get him properlytrained. Harry will finally have the mentors and the family he had dreamt of, so many times.

I’M POSTING THE FIRST CHAPTER HERE, TO GIVE YOU A TASTE...

Harry sat in his room at Privet Drive. The clouds had covered the sky. Thunder was making his windows tremble. He sat watching the rain — frankly it matched his mood. A month almost had passed since Sirius was taken through the veil. He couldn't even get himself to say that he had died. Who was he fooling? He wasn't the chosen one! He couldn't even get his life in line. How could he save the entire wizarding world? He replayed the conversation with Dumbledore over and over in his head. He would have to kill or be killed. That was his destiny. Right now the latest seemed his preferred choice. Maybe Voldemort was the way to get out this miserable life of his. Otherwise he was too coward to do it himself. Damn the Gryffindor spirit of his. Where was it when he needed it most?

He held his quill in his hand, a bit of parchment in his desk.

Dear Professor Dumbledore, I am leaving and never coming back —no scratch that—he drew a line over the sentence. I hope you're doing fine. I'm not. I can't sleep, nightmares you see, I can't eat, or rather I'm not allowed to, I can't leave this godamn house. I feel like the walls are closing in. I don't think I can take it much longer. I was writing to apologize. You were trying to protect me and I couldn't understand that. I just wish things were different. I wish... Sincerely Harry James Potter The Boy who never had the chance to Live, and will Die. ******************* He left the piece of parchment on his desk and sighed deeply. He really felt like he was going in circles. He wasn't going to send it. He had just wished to put some of his thoughts on paper, maybe ease his heartache. Little did he know that the headmaster was feeling as sad as he did right now. Said headmaster was watching the fog out of his office's window. Harry was constantly on his mind. He had avoided the boy all this year for his good only to find out he had done him more harm with this decision. He had seen how devastated Harry was when he left Hogwarts a month ago. He had began searching for the horcruxes. He had an idea of where to find the ring. He was just debating if he should tell Harry or not. A voice in his head told him that he had already hidden too much from Harry. But it crashed his heart even the thought of having to tell Harry that ultimately he would have to die. Both Minerva and Severus had insisted that he should bring the boy at Hogwarts. Severus had learned about Harry's fate. He was so angry with him. But it seemed that he didn't want to give up hope. As much as he disliked Potter, he didn't hate him, he knew that the boy had a lot on his shoulders and that his life wasn't easy. But he was forced to pretend in front of his Slytherins. He was a spy after all. Severus almost pleaded with him to bring Harry over the summer, let him learn Occlumency correctly, train him, prepare him and maybe he would stand a chance. Minerva told him so too. Mind finally made, he took a piece of parchment.

Dear Harry, I hope you're as fine as you can be. I have a situation to discuss with you so I will come tomorrow morning at 11:00 am sharp to retrieve you if this is acceptable. Please answer as fast as you can. Give your message to Fawkes, he will make sure I receive it immediately. Yours, Albus Dumbledore

"Give this to Harry, Fawkes. You know where to find him." The Phoenix hooted in agreement, took the small piece of parchment in his beak and let the flames surround him as he departed straight to Harry's room in Surrey. ***************** Harry was startled when flames erupted in the middle of his room. The flames dissolved and he saw Fawkes. "Hey, Fawkes..." He caressed the head of the Phoenix who let out a sound of satisfaction. He took the letter from his beak and read it. He wondered what the Headmaster wanted to discuss. He put some treats for Fawkes to eat and gave some to Hedwig too. He sat again in his chair and turned the letter around.

Professor Dumbledore, I have no problem. Either way I have nowhere to go. I will expect you tomorrow at 11 am sharp. Respectfully, Harry Potter

He let Fawkes eat in peace and then watched the phoenix as he disappeared again. Albus received the letter of approval from Harry. He felt his guilt overwhelm him. "I have nowhere to go". The phrase played through his head. He firecalled Severus and Minerva. Once they arrived Severus asked:

"What may seem to be the matter Headmaster?"

"I will go to retrieve Harry from the Dursley's tomorrow. He will be staying here, from now on. We have to make a plan. You Severus,will train him. Teach him Potions and Occlumency, anything he has to know. I know you despise him, but we are at war. I can't afford to lose either of you. You Minerva, I want you to show him the art of Transfiguration. Teach him how to become an animagus. Study with him books with tactics, useful spells, healing. Me, I'm going to teach him how Voldemort thinks, his story and I will practice with him defense. I want him to be as prepared as he can be." Severus, as much as Dumbledore's decision displeased him, understood his reasons and agreed with them. Minerva too. It was time to show Potter that he had the upper hand. Let the magic inside of him finally reach its fullest potential.

"He will be ready Albus, I'll make sure of it." He said to Albus.

"Me too." Minerva promised too. They departed from his office to make their plans each.

"Severus, could you stay for another minute?" The Potion's Master turned and faced Albus.

"I want Harry to stay with you. He has endured great psychological pain. He was neglected, abandoned, he has suffered loss that no one his age should ever have to. Only you can help him heal from that."

"Albus you know, I'll do more harm,than good."

"I don't think so Severus. If you want this war to be over, you have to make amends."

" With all due respect Headmaster, Minerva or you are far more capable to help the boy than I am. We don't get along and I don't trust his arrogant and far too stupid thinking."

Snape was barely managing not to yell at the Headmaster.

"You have never had the chance to get to know Harry. The real Harry,Severus, the one that resembles yourself a lot, the one that resembles Lily. Now my boy, I think that if you give Harry a chance, you and will get along just fine." Severus tries were futile. Once Albus had a plan thought out, he always executed it. ******************* The next day Albus went to retrieve Harry. He apparated to Privet Drive and knocked on the door. Sure enough Harry answered. "Harry m'boy! How are you?" Albus' tone was soft as he put a hand in Harry's shoulder.

"I've been better sir, thanks for asking though. Please come in. Will you mind if we talked to my room? The Dursley's will be back soon and they don't like people like us a lot, I'm afraid."

"Don't worry Harry. We will not be staying here. You are coming to Hogwarts with me. Let's go get your stuff, shall we?"

"To Hogwarts? To stay? For the summer?" Harry asked surprised.

"Yes Harry. With me and some teachers. It's time you trained for what it's coming. Come on now, we don't have a lot of time!" Harry showed Albus to his small and almost empty room upstairs. Albus with a flick of his wand made all of Harry's belongings go in his trunk. He shrank it then and put it in his pocket. As Harry let Hedwig out of the window with instructions to meet him at Hogwarts, Albus picked up the small piece of parchment addressed to him on the desk and put it in his pocket. He turned to Harry then.

"Keep your cloak and wand ready Harry. Do you wish to grab anything else? I'm not sure if you'll ever be coming back home again. I'm instructing your relatives to leave as fast as they can, I wrote them a letter."

"No sir. This was never my home anyway." Again Albus was overwhelmed with guilt and sadness.

He left the letter somewhere to be found by the Dursley's and then instructed Harry to grab his hand and apparated with him at the gates of Hogwarts.

"Welcome home Harry." He said to the teen softly as he put a hand on his shoulder. Harry let a small smile form in his lips. He was indeed home. He followed Dumbledore to his office and took a sit as the Headmaster instructed across him.

"I know it seems sudden but, it occurred to me, that you're just as safe, if not more here,than in Surrey. Do you know why Harry?"

"I can guess. It's because of Voldemort's strength that's growing and the blood yards are failing. They never loved me or cared for me so the wards stopped working."

"They haven't stopped but they have weakened very much indeed. There is another reason. I think it's high time we train you . And by we I mean Severus, Minerva and myself included. You have to be prepared for everything that is to come. Dark times are ahead of us Harry. Very dark. For your stay here, you will live with Severus, for the remaining of the summer, in his quarters. Maybe sometime we will go to my cottage outside Fraserburgh. I know you and him don't get along. I know what happened last year. But for both of your shakes and survival, you need to learn to work together. I want you to start and get to know each other. Your real selves."

Harry knew he couldn't protest and he wouldn't either. What had transpired between him and Snape was insignificant in front of the war. He knew he had done something he shouldn't last year with the pensieve and just for this once Snape was rightfully mad at him. Harry truly felt embarrassed for his dad and Sirius. He was amazed deep down by Snape's courage to be a spy and for saving him many times. But that didn't mean that he would be all sugar with the man now. They had things to solve and if Snape continued to make him miserable Harry would of course confront him.

"I suggest you go and settle in. Get to know your new room. I'll meet you at lunch." Dumbledore continued. Harry just nodded and went for the door.

"And Harry... I know how you feel, I really do. And I know it is too much on your shoulders but we will all try to make it a little bit lighter. Severus, Minerva, your friends and me. You are not alone. Bear that in mind."

Unlike the last time Harry had been in this Office, something in the old man's voice and face told him that Dumbledore really knew what a loss of a loved one felt like. Harry swallowed hard. Even the thought of Sirius' passing brought tears in his eyes. He nodded again and left. Albus sighed deeply. He took the small piece of parchment out of his pocket and read it. What had he done? His eyes filled with tears. He would inform Severus of this, and keep a very close look on the boy. He promised he would do everything on his hand to make Harry's life as happy as he could. ****************** Harry made his way to the Dungeons. He knocked on the door of the Potion Master's office. Snape's deep voice answered from inside.

"Come in" he said dryly. Harry opened the door and stepped in closing it behind him. Severus didn't even look up from his papers. Harry stood in the door uncertain as to what to do.

"Do you plan on standing there and infuriate me Potter?" Snape snarled.

" No sir." Harry walked towards the man. He finally put his quill down and stood up.

"Follow me" he said curtly. Snape guided Harry in the very back of the office where stood a big portrait of potioneer, Zygmunt Budge.

"Put your hand on the cauldron." Severus instructed pointing at the cauldron in the drawing. Harry did as he was told. Snape took his wand and said some long Latin incantation which Harry didn't understand.

"I keyed your signature to my private quarters. This way you can come and go as you please."

The door opened and Severus got in as Harry followed him. He looked around the big living room. It wasn't at all as he had expected it —dark, gloomy and sinister. On the contrary, the room was well lit, it was beige and had dark brown leather furniture. A big bookcase from wood covered two whole walls. There was a fireplace next to which stood an armchair with a pique blanket on its arm and a matching footstool. A small commode was sitting between the armchair and the fireplace. Harry figured this must be Snape's chilling spot. Snape continued to move quickly down the hall from the living room.

"This is the kitchen." He pointed on his left to the small room. It had wooden cupboards and a matching table in the middle but nothing more. "This is my room. You are not to get in unless it is an absolute emergency. And this is your room." He indicated the door next to his room.

He opened it and Harry's jaw almost dropped to the floor. His room was huge! Even bigger than Dudley's! It had a magical window that lit it with natural sunlight and had a view to the Quidditch pitch. A king sized bed with white bed sheets, a grey douvet and matching pillows was in the far end of the room. The room itself was painted dark blue and light grey. It had a wardrobe to put ones clothes in, a desk for his studies, a nightstand beside the bed, a gray carpet and a painting with a hippogriff that moved around.

"You have your own bathroom through here." Snape indicated the door close to his bed. His own bathroom with a bathtub! He could take baths! Harry was amazed. "All of the toiletries like toothbrushes and toothpastes, razors, foam, shampoo and others are in there. Close your mouth Potter!" He snapped. What in Merlin's name! Snape thought infuriated. Hadn't the boy seen a bedroom before?

"Y-Yes sir. Thank you." Harry composed himself. He was really grateful.

"Don't thank me. Professor McGonagall customized it besides my protests. Lunch is at two. I expect you can keep track of time."

"I can."

"I can what?" Snape looked him warningly.

"I can sir." Harry didn't mind Snape right now he was too focused in his new room.

"I have simple house rules. You wake up early, you attend your training schedule on time. You don't disturb me unless necessary, you don't get in my room, you don't miss a meal. When you have visions you tell me or anyone else, you keep yourself presentable, not with these rugs you're wearing. You must be escorted to go outside and you are back here before 9:30 at night. Am I understood?" Snape handed him a piece of parchment with the the rules, in his neat hand writing.

"Yes Professor." He would have to memorize them. He didn't want Snape having a reason to yell at him or punish him like Uncle Vernon because Harry was sure the man was capable of much worse. Snape just strode out of the room being sure that Potter wouldn't even bother to go by his rules. Harry closed his door and took a dive to his bed, letting the soft mattress and clothing surround him. He would certainly have to thank McGonagall for this. He unpacked his trunk and by the time he had put everything in place it was almost 1:30. He put on his best pair of hand-me-down jeans and a grey t-shirt with the snitch on it that Hermione had gotten him from Hogsmeade. He washed his face and tried to tame his hair. He then put on a pair of well worn sneakers and made his way to the Great-Hall.

He opened the doors and noticed that the whole room was empty, except for a smaller than the usuals, table, in the middle of the Hall. The teachers were sat around it. Harry saw Dumbledore sitting in the middle, on his right was McGonagall and on his left two empty seats,Hagrid at the edge, next to him Flitwick, then Sprout and on the other side Sinistra, Madame Pomfrey, Hooch and Trelawny at the very end.

Dumbledore's eyes lit when he saw Harry. "Harry m'boy! Come on, don't stand there!" Harry made his way to the table and took the seat next to Dumbledore.

"How do you like your new room?" Albus inquired.

"It is great sir! Thank you! And thanks for the decoration Professor!" He addressed Minerva.

"My pleasure Harry. I knew you would like it." Harry just gave a small smile. And started putting food on his plate. A small serving of mashed potatoes, some peas and carrots and a piece of roast chicken. Just then Snape walked in too.

"Ah Severus! Join us!" the Headmaster exclaimed happily.

"Thank you Albus," he said with a small smile to his Head. He then took his seat next to a surprised Harry.

Harry noticed that every time Snape spoke with Dumbledore or McGonagall it was like his bastard self dissolved. He was always more soft in tone, civil, even managed a small chuckle sometimes when Albus said something funny and McGonagall scolded him. He sat besides Harry and frowned as he observed Harry's plate.

"Put more chicken and vegetables on your plate Mr Potter. This serving is for children not for growing men in adolescence." he remarked.

Harry was a bit dumbfounded that Snape was looking out for what he was eating, but then again one of his rules was not to miss a meal. He put a bit more food in his plate and a glass of pumpkin juice and started eating as the rest of the teachers chatted around him.

"So Minnie, you still owe me that flying contest."

"Albus, I said categorically no! I'm not going on a fly contest with you!" McGonagall said almost angrily. "Besides, Minerva would still beat you Headmaster. You do remember she is one of the best seekers to ever pass from this school" Rolanda Hooch commented.

"That's why we should have the contest! To prove her ability!" Albus insisted. Harry heard Snape sneer and he knew that the Potion Master had rolled his eyes without even having to look at the man.

"How about a Quidditch match some time? Now that we have young Harry, he can play seeker against Minerva! Would you like that Harry?"

"Very much Professor!" Harry answered Dumbledore. Harry would very much like to see the teachers playing Quidditch.

"What position do you play sir?" He asked Albus.

"I'm the referee of course! Too old to actually play, but young enough to ensure a fair game while on my broom!" He winked at Harry.

"Rolanda and Severus play chasers, Filius and Aurora are excellent beaters, and of course Septima and Pomona manage as keepers.We know that the teams are short, but it is better than nothing!" McGonagall explained.

With these kinds of teams Harry's interest was piked. What wouldn't he pay to see Snape trying to goal at Sprout! Even the thought amused him. Maybe if Dumbledore let him he could call over the Weasleys and form normal teams to play. Harry ate some chocolate pudding for desert and when lunch ended he walked with Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall to the Headmaster's office.

"Potter, this is your training schedule." McGonagall gave him a curriculum.

Monday 9:00-10:30 Advanced D.A.D.A (S.Snape) 11:00- 13:00 Dueling ( A. Dumbledore/ S. Snape) 17:00-19:00 Advanced Transfiguration ( M. McGonagall / A.Dumbledore) Tuesday 9:00-10:30 am Potions (S. Snape) 11:00-12:30 pm Battle Tactics ( A. Dumbledore) 5:00-6:30 pm Healing ( M. McGonagall / P. Pomfrey) 7:00-8:00 pm Occlumency (S. Snape)

For Wednesday he had the same courses as Monday and for Thursday the same as Tuesday. He had a free day on Friday and the weekend to study any assigned work. On Sundays he also had meetings with Dumbledore to learn more about Voldemort that would help him defeat him.

"It is a loaded program but the other alternative, is to let you die in the hands of the Dark Lord," Snape said to Harry in a sneering tone. McGonagall and Dumbledore nodded in agreement though.

"We find it also necessary for you to go and do some shopping. That is why, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape will take you today to a town nearby to shop anything you wish for. Some new clothes and shoes are a must. And the books you will need for your training have been ordered and will be here tomorrow."

"Uhm... As much as I'd like that sir, eh... my vault has enough money to get me through two more years of Hogwarts... I don't have much money to spare..." Harry felt his cheeks begin to warm as a pink color overtook them.

"You won't have to pay for anything Harry! My mistake, if I made it look that way... As your temporary guardian, and since you are underage, I will pay for you, as any mature grown-up should pay for their guards." Harry saw a flash of anger pass through Dumbledore's eyes, with his innuendo to the Dursley's incompetence to raise him correctly. "And don't you even try and say thank you young Mister. It is my mistake, that you weren't provided with the absolutely basic necessities from the beginning." Dumbledore spoke as soon as he saw Harry open his mouth to protest. Harry's eyes were fixated on the floor as embarrassment got the best of him.

"Yes sir!" Was all he managed.

"Further instructions for your lessons and any inquiries you have, you can come to any of us to answer. Also, as I'm sure Severus has already told you, it is of imperative importance that you do not go outside unless escorted by one of the staff. You are relieved from your summer homework, after unanimous decision with of the teachers, you will be else occupied all summer, either way. You will practice, though, some of this year's curriculum, be assured."

Harry nodded understanding exactly what the Professor was saying.

"If you don't have any objection I think it is a good time for us to go to town now." Snape said looking at Minerva and Harry.

"It's fine by me, Severus."

"Me too." Minerva agreed. They said goodbye to Dumbledore and left for the gates. Once outside Hogwarts they stopped and put on their glamour charm. Snape transfigured his, easily recognizable, black cloak, to black jeans and a white button down, underneath a grey sweater. His hair became short and he grew a beard. McGonagall on the other hand, transfigured her robes to a long black skirt and a green sweater. Her hair was let down from the strict bun she wore everyday and from dark grey-black they became completely white, making her look like a very old lady, something amplified by the deep wrinkles that appeared in her face. Harry's hair became light, his scar invisible and grew a small beard. His appearance looked a lot like Snape's and someone could easily confuse them for father and son.

"We are apparating there. Grab my arm tightly Potter." Ordered Snape.

Once Harry touched him, he felt like being sucked through a small tube and that he couldn't breathe. A moment later he landed on a deserted alley. A loud crack was heard and McGonagall landed next to them.

"Let's go on then."

They entered a big mall down the road. They got into the first shop that had clothes. Harry picked four pairs of blue jeans, two pairs of black. A khaki and black pair of cargo pants, some button down shirts, several t-shirts in different colors were also scratched from his to 'buy list'. Sweaters, hoodies, underwear, socks, pajamas and of course winter jackets, a scarf and gloves went in as well. Then they went to pick up shoes, tracking pants, and sweatshirts in an athletic shop. Harry got two pair of sneakers, two pairs of running shoes, three sweatshirts and four tracking pants. It was fortunate that McGonagall had been with them because Snape only insisted on buying the black pieces of clothing and frankly Harry didn't like black at all.

When they finished almost four hours later, everyone was exhausted. They apparated back at the school just in time for dinner. Harry are in a hurry wanting desperately to go and lie down and sleep but Snape kept putting food in his plate. When everyone was finished,Harry and Snape said goodnight to everyone and walked to the dungeons.

"You start your schedule tomorrow morning. I expect you to be up at 6:30. Then you and I will go for some exercise, eat breakfast by 8:30 and at 9:00 potions. We will exercise every morning Potter. You have to gain some muscle. It will help with your magical training as well." Harry had for a long time wanted to put on some muscle and had tried, in vain though. When they were in Snape's quarters, the Professor gave him permission to call for a House Elf if he needed anything and then, with a last look to Harry, which seemed full of envy he walked to his room, his robes billowing behind him. Harry almost rolled his eyes at Snape. He got into his room and saw that his new clothes had been washed and ironed, probably the House Elves. He picked up a pair of pajamas, wore them and set his bedside magical alarm at 6:00. The minute the soft pillow touched his head, he was out. ****************** End of first chapter! Please review if you liked it, and send me any of your suggestions! Thank you all for your support!!!!

[slytherinknowitall]

Potion Fumes and Cauldron Leaks

Chapter 13: Dressed-Up Figures and Undressed Souls

(Click here for chapter 12!)

(Click here to start from the beginning!)

Disclaimer: I don’t own the “Harry Potter” book series. The story of “Harry Potter” is the property of J. K. Rowling, it is not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

The remainder of the month went by in a breeze, and looking back, the Potions professor realised that it had been the happiest time of his life.

Severus still felt uneasy about his feelings towards Granger, of course; so much so that he even promised it to himself to never act on them. Quickly backpaddling on the thought that the two of them could become friends – after all, a teacher and a student becoming too close would always be weird, no matter the circumstances – he instead decided to quietly admire his beloved from afar. In a bid to distance himself from her and her enticing charms, he restricted their private lessons to the two mandatory sessions a week and made sure to drop a snide remark here and there – though they somehow never seemed as harsh anymore. It did not help, however, that the young woman seemed unfazed by all of that; she would still always show up to their meetings beaming at the Potions Master’s face.

So at the end of the day, he still could not help but experience almost juvenile-like euphoria. She liked him, too! Granted, she was not in love with him or anything, but indeed just the fact that his new object of affection liked him on a platonic level made Severus feel all kinds of ways. As a result, his behaviour seemed to change. Although he tried his best to behave like his normal mean self, he would sometimes suddenly find himself softly humming as he made his way through the castle’s countless corridors, and every once in a while, he would even accidentally chuckle at some of his colleagues’ lousy attempts at jokes over dinner. He also caught himself daydreaming about the Gryffindor more frequently, but he did not mind it that much anymore. Instead, he chose to quietly enjoy all of these new-found emotions.

As for Granger, well, she was back to her bubbly, know-it-all self. She had quickly begun to show up for class on time again, handing in excellent essays and fiercely waving her hand around trying to be “the chosen one” who got to answer questions. That behaviour also extended to their apprenticeship lessons, with her bombarding her tutor with countless questions about this and that, attempting to extract every single bit of knowledge, howsoever small, from the talented wizard’s mind. Severus could not help but be a tad bit amused by her eagerness to learn. He was still trying to maintain his reputation as the snarky, greasy-haired git of the dungeons, of course; so on the rare occasions when he actually answered one of her questions, he would do so in his typical scoffing fashion. In reality, however, he was delighted by their relatively one-sided conversations. He was utterly fascinated by the way her mind appeared to work as well as the huge range of topics in which she took an interest. After years of unsuccessfully searching for a suitable conversational partner with which to have intellectually stimulating discussions, he had finally found one – and in a member of the Golden Trio at that!

A few weeks ago, they had even taught their first class together. Severus had to admit that he had been sceptical at first about that part of the apprenticeship programme; however, Granger had done surprisingly well. Having come in prepared with a perfectly outlined lesson plan, she had no trouble properly instructing a group of second-years on how to brew the Fire Protection Potion. A nice and helpful teacher, her presence had seemed to make the pupils breathe a little easier in what is otherwise a rather strict class; some had even managed to create potions that were noticeably better than any others they’d handed in before. Though this of course did not mean that Severus planned on making any permanent changes to his personal style of teaching. The reason behind his sternness was completely logical: Unruliness had absolutely no place in his classroom, as safety always came first in a potions lab!

On one particular Thursday – the day before Halloween to be exact – the Head of Slytherin found himself in the dimly lit Potions classroom, brewing yet another one of Madam Pomfrey’s last-minute orders; unfortunately, the matron had apparently not taken to heart his elaborate lecture about ordering often-needed potions well in advance. Working side by side with his apprentice, they were preparing a batch of Antidote to Common Poisons and a few phials of Laxative Potion respectively.

Just as Severus was rummaging through his storage room in the search for some lavender essence, he heard his student speak up.

“While everyone knows that the headmaster is a – for the lack of a better word – special character, I must say that I’m still a bit dumfounded by this announcement,” her melodic voice resonated from the ancient stone walls. “Having spent the better part of my childhood in the Muggle world, I am obviously familiar with the practice. But all those scary things, those creatures that Muggles dress up as – most of them actually exist in the wizarding world! So why should we magic folk put on costumes like that? I just find it quite bizarre and …”

Finally having found the little ampoule for which he had been searching, Severus returned to his workstation as Granger continued to ramble on and on. He obviously knew what she was talking about. Just this morning at breakfast, Dumbledore had suddenly announced that this year’s Hallowe’en Feast would come with a little twist: It would be a fancy-dress party Muggle style, and everyone attending was expected to show up wearing a costume. Snape groaned at the mere thought of it. This year, the old man was just implementing one silly rule after another. Sometimes, the half-blood believed that the headmaster came up with all of his crazy antics with the sole purpose of annoying his younger colleague.

“Anyway,” the witch said, at last concluding her babbling. “What are you going as?”

Severus, who was in the process of measuring out the correct amount of Honeywater for his potion, stopped dead in his tracks and looked at the young woman with a stone-cold expression.

“I beg your pardon?” he asked snappishly.

His protégée’s hazel eyes turned big. “Oh, um, I’m talking about the Hallowe’en Feast, sir,” she stuttered rather sheepishly. “I was just wondering what your costume will be.”

“Costume? Miss Granger, am I really to believe that you would be stupid enough to assume that I, Severus Snape, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin, would take part in such a ridiculous display of foolishness?!”

He could practically see her confidence crumble before his very eyes, and he would have lied if he said that that did not make him feel a tiny bit bad. After hectically searching for something to say for a few moments, she dropped her gaze.

“Of course not,” she then mumbled. “My apologies …”

Granger quickly turned her attention back to her project, and so Snape did the same, trying hard to ignore that slight sting he felt in his chest.

For a while, they worked in silence. Once he finished his potion, Severus began looking for the little piece of parchment paper on which Poppy had written her order, wanting to double check if he had prepared the correct amount. Following a minute-long search, he finally found it on Granger’s side of the desk. When he went to pick it up, however, he noticed a strange, scarlet red dot on it.

Confused, he turned to face his apprentice, intending to ask her about it, when he noticed what appeared to be a fair amount of blood smeared all across the girl’s chin and lips. While he had long ago taken note of her tendency to subconsciously bite her lips whenever she was anxious or scared, he had never seen it get so bad to the point that she would make herself bleed like that. Severus could not help but feel guilty about this; it had to have been his unkind reply which had caused it.

“Miss Granger,” he muttered softly. When she looked up in surprise, he handed her the white handkerchief he always carried in the left pocket of his cloak. “You are bleeding.”

He watched as she hastily brought up her right hand to her face and then stared in disbelief at the shiny red liquid which now covered her fingertips.

Not giving her a chance to speak, he said, “When I was just a mere child growing up in Muggle England, Halloween was not yet what it is today. It did exist, yes, but the act of dressing up and having little get-togethers was not as wide-spread yet.”

Walking past her to the table, Snape picked up a small, clean blade and started cutting a few sprouts of Agrimonia into small pieces.

“However, I do distinctly recall one time when the town I was living in announced that it would host a celebration in the community centre, complete with costumes and all kinds of entertaining activities. Rather untypical for that dirty hellhole, really …” He sighed. “So I spent the whole day getting ready, gathering supplies for my costume from all around the house and borrowing some of my mother’s makeup. After hours of work, I had finally finished creating my ensemble and was about to leave, excited for the hours of fun to come, when my father came home from a day at the bar.”

He looked up, meeting the gaze of his student. Her expression had confusion written all over it.

“My father was not a kind man, Miss Granger. I am afraid that I take after him quite a lot when it comes to having anger issues.” His lips formed a thin line. “He was especially not fond of anything magical. He despised my mother and I for our abilities, calling us freaks, monstrosities. When he saw that I was dressed up as a wizard, he lost it. He tore apart my carefully crafted costume before my very eyes, and that night, I received the worst beating of my life as my mother just passively watched. It was so bad that I was not able to go to school for two weeks afterward.”

Granger gasped in shock. “That’s terrible! I –, I … I am so sorry, sir.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and Severus thought that he could see tears forming in her eyes.

He waved off her concern with a simple gesture of the hand. “That was a long time ago, Miss Granger,” he said seemingly nonchalantly, but his trembling hands gave him away as he added the shredded plant to the cauldron in front of him.

“However, I do feel like it is understandable that ever since that day, I have taken a dislike to this particular festivity.” Of course, that was only half of it – but he did not think it appropriate to disclose the trauma connected to the murder of his childhood love. “And while being one of the teachers at this school has made me feel compelled to take part in the yearly feast thus far, I have decided to allow myself to refrain from participating this time.”

What followed was silence. While the seventh-year was evidently at a loss for words, Snape continued to diligently prepare the green-coloured potion. He knew that he probably should not have shared such private information with her. But for some reason, it was just so easy to open up to her, to share his painful memories with her.

It was only after he had finished the magical concoction and went to grab a box of crystalline phials for bottling that Granger said, “It’s certainly not my place to speak of your awful experiences or offer any solutions, sir. But perhaps tomorrow is your one chance to regain the experience you were so wrongfully robbed of.”

Not knowing what to answer, Severus remained quiet.

*************** *************** ***************

Even though it was now her seventh time experiencing the event, Hermione still could not help but be amazed as she entered the Great Hall.

Like every year, the huge room had been decorated in great detail for the Hallowe’en Feast. A few dozen black cauldrons stuffed with gigantic lollipops as well as large pumpkins, some filled with candy and others with candles, were distributed throughout the hall. Looking up at the Enchanted Ceiling, she could see the dark night sky with seemingly endless stars sparkling in the distance. Flying in and out of low-hanging black clouds, both live bats as well as flaming orange streamers were swooping over the long tables which were filled with sheer massive amounts of food and drinks: devilled eggs and butternut squash soup, candy apples and carrot cake, butterbeer and gillywater, roasted turkey legs and fish pie. There was even an apple bobbing station in one corner.

However, the one thing which stood out the most was admittedly the people’s attire. Students and staff alike were dressed in various costumes, some magical and some obviously Muggle-made. In a sea of creepy clowns and heavily made-up princesses, Hermione was able to spot Lavender Brown standing in a secluded nock, dressed as a gigantic pink and baby blue cupcake, flirting with a sixth-year Hufflepuff boy wearing a cheap one-piece skeleton suit. Sitting at the edge of the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy could be seen in an exquisite Victorian-era gown, appearing to be disgusted with the way his two friends Crabbe and Goyle, who were dressed as a mummy and a pirate respectively, were stuffing their faces with black pudding, roasted potatoes and mince pie.

Making her way to the Gryffindor table, Hermione made sure to say hello to Luna Lovegood as she walked past her. The eccentric witch was wearing an unidentifiable mixture of different patterned scraps of cloths paired with a wide array of flashy accessories, which was probably meant to represent some strange creature of which no one but her had ever heard. After fighting her way through the sizeable crowd, the Head Girl then finally reached her friends.

“Bloody hell, Hermione!” Ron exclaimed, waving his fork, and the piece of Beef Wellington impaled on it, at her. He was dressed in an Auror uniform. “You look smokin’ hot! You’re a sexy kitten or what?”

He flashed her a crooked smile, but she merely cringed at his lousy and rather vulgar attempt at flirting – it seemed as though he still had not got the memo that she just was not interested in him that way.

But it was in fact true that she was dressed as a cat. After taking the longest time deciding on a costume, Hermione had spent the better part of her afternoon getting ready for the feast. Throwing her outfit together from scratch, she had put on a tight-fitting, long-sleeved bodysuit and paired it with fishnet stockings and a pair of high-waisted faux leather shorts – all in black, of course. She had then used her magic skills to transfigure a pair of fuzzy socks into a headband with feline ears, followed by turning an old scarf into a tail. To top off her outfit, she had added a black lace-trimmed collar as well as high-heeled over-the-knee boots. Her makeup was kept simple, with only some basic pencil eyeliner strokes across her face to mimic a cat’s primary features, and as for her hair, well, she had just let it do its own wild thing. Granted, the outfit she was wearing was a lot more revealing than what Hermione would normally go for, but for some reason, she did not care that night. She thought that her look was fierce, and it made her feel powerful somehow.

Ignoring her pasty-skinned friend’s goggling eyes, she smiled at the couple seated next to him. Harry was dressed as a noble king, cheap plastic crown and all, and Ginny, who was sitting on his lap, was wearing a scarecrow costume. She greeted them, and they all chatted for a bit, but for some reason, something appeared a bit off with her best friend; the redhead seemed somewhat distracted. Not wanting to make a scene in front of everybody, Hermione made a mental note to ask her about it later. She was used to Harry being morose around this time of year, but seeing Ginny that unusually quiet set off red flags in her mind.

Turning her attention to the table filled with all kinds of tasty dishes, her mouth started to water. Before she helped herself to anything, however, she cast a glance at the High Table. A quick scan of the people seated at it later, she had to suppress her laughter. Sitting on the large golden chair in the middle, Professor Dumbledore instantly stood out in what was apparently a life-size replica of his favourite candy, sherbet lemon. Next to the headmaster, Professor McGonagall was sporting a kind of toned-down, more age-appropriate Snow White costume, which made her look surprisingly adorable. Professor Vector and Professor Babbling were both dressed up as Cleopatra, Madam Hooch had put on her favourite Quidditch team’s uniform, and Professor Sprout was – surprise, surprise – some sort of plant. A zombie Professor Flitwick could be seen conversing with Professor Sinistra, who was wearing a stripped burglar costume, and Hagrid was dressed in a painfully small Popeye costume. Professor Trelawney was a mouse, Professor Burbage resembled a gumdrop machine for some reason, and Lupin depicted a dog – that last one made her giggle yet again. The only one without a costume was Professor Binns, though that seemed obvious, given his ghost body.

Merely one person was missing: the Potions Master. Hermione could not help but feel a little bit disappointed. She had known that he probably would not show up, but she had still allowed herself to have some hope.

The young woman spent the next hour or so devouring Hogwarts’ finest foods while conversing and laughing with her housemates, almost forgetting about her tutor’s absence from the feast. Finally leaning back with a full stomach, she stuck her hands in the pockets of her shorts.

“What the –“

Stunned, she pulled out a tiny, folded piece of paper which had definitely not been there at the beginning of the night. Opening it under the table, out of view from her seatmates, she read the short note.

Entrance hall, now.

Hermione instantly knew whose meticulous handwriting that was. She had to give it to him, sneaking a message into the very clothing she was wearing without her noticing required skill, and she was definitely impressed. Excusing herself from the table under the pretence of having to use the bathroom, she quickly left the room through the tall double doors, forcing them apart just wide enough for her to slip through.

Once in the Front Hall, she glanced around but saw no one. Taking one more step into the room, she sharply jolted when she suddenly caught movement out of the corner of her eyes. She whipped around just in time to witness the Potions professor emerge from behind the Slytherin house point hourglass. Looking at his oval face, she could have sworn that she saw his eyes widen for a second as they wandered across her body.

“Professor Snape,” she said, a bit out of breath.

“Miss Granger, you are … a cat?” She could hear the clear disbelief in his voice, and for some reason, that made her snigger.

“Well yes, sir, it’s my costume!” She frowned as she eyed his attire. “But I can see that you stuck with your decision not to dress up.”

“That is not entirely true.”

Her eyebrows knitted in bemusement. “I don’t think I understand. You look the same as you always do.”

She could see him take a deep breath, almost as if he were psyching himself up, before he did something that she was sure no one had ever seen him do: He flashed her a big smile.

Hermione let out an audible gasp of astonishment. At first, she was too shocked to do anything but stare directly at him. Professor Snape’s smile seemed a bit unnatural and more or less forced, but she still had to admit that it made him look a lot younger and less stern. That in turn made something unfamiliar stir deep inside her, but she chose to ignore that for now.

It was only after a few moments that she noticed something odd about his teeth. His two upper incisors seemed a bit out of place. They were quite long, almost as if they were fangs. Combined with his long, dark robes, that kind of made him look like a –

“You’re dressed as a vampire!” she spat out, positively flabbergasted. When he gave an affirmative nod, she felt a rush of excitement travel through her entire body. He had actually done it! Severus Snape had dressed up at her suggestion!

Hermione knew that she was about to push her luck hard, but she was simply so overjoyed that she could not possibly control her emotions. With one big leap, she closed the distance between them and threw her arms around her teacher.

“Happy Halloween, Professor!” she rejoiced as she buried her face in the black fabric covering his broad chest.

*************** *************** ***************

He could feel the warmth radiating from her body which was tightly pressed against his. He could smell the fruity scent of her favourite shampoo coming from her voluminous locks as they tickled his beaked nose. He could hear her slightly accelerated breathing, his arms wrapped around her torso rising just a little at every breath. He could see a small birthmark, so tiny that it was almost invisible, situated at the nape of her neck. And for just a moment, he allowed himself to melt into her hug, his eyes closed shut.

Severus Snape was doomed, and he knew it. But in that exact moment, he did not care one bit.

(Click here for chapter 14!)

[notorious-lightning-thief]

The Stag and the Doe Chapter Three

Here is a peak at Chapter Three! Read the complete story on Ao3

What happens when Lily runs into James Potter while running around Diagon Alley after a terrible fight with her sister?

Chapter Three: With Milk and Two Sugars

Lily Evans was a young, bright, and beautiful witch. She was well-known for her poise, grace, and her canning ability to keep a cool head under pressure. Right now, she was anything but that. She was a bloody mess.

Tears streamed down her face as she marched determinedly through Diagon Alley with only one destination in mind: away. The argument she had with her sister and her stepfather just over an hour ago kept replaying in her head.

"I'll have you know I'm not coming home for Christmas. And I'm certainly not coming to your wedding!" Lily yelled at her sister, Petunia.

Their argument started when Petunia barged into Lily's room and accused her of taking her precious necklace that her boyfriend Vernon had given her. A little tuff had soon escalated to a full-fledged shouting match. Before long, the girls were at each other's throat in a competitive battle to see who could hurt the other one more.

"Good, no one wanted you there anyway!" Petunia yelled back.

"I hope you and your husband have a happy life together," Lily told her.

"I hope you have a happy life alone," she spat.

"Girls, please stop yelling," the girls' stepfather, Joseph, said timidly. He had been watching their screeching match anxiously. "The neighbors have already called twice asking if everything was ok—"

"Like you're not glad to be rid of me, too," Lily said. She grabbed her bags and started for the door.

"We wanted you gone ages ago, but no one had the heart to tell you," Petunia said, following Lily. "Especially Joseph, but since you were Mum's favorite, he couldn't say anything.

Lily swallowed a big gulp of air to prevent herself from crying. What she was saying was true; Lily knew it, Petunia knew it, Joseph knew it; it just hurt to finally hear someone say it.

"I'm leaving," she said quieter this time.

"You said that already," Petunia pointed out. "Go! Leave! Your freaky friends are the only ones that want you if you can call them friends. I bet you're even a freak among freaks."

"You've never been able to accept me for what I am!" Lily screamed. "Either of you! If Mum was still here—"

"Yeah, well, she's not," Petunia said heartlessly.

Lily then gave them a departing glare and added, "Enjoy your Lily-free life."

Petunia's words still stung an hour later. True to her word, Lily had packed up her room and departed for London, knowing that she would most likely never see her sister or her childhood home again. Without having a real destination in mind, Lily made her way to London. The Hogwarts Express didn't leave for another week, which meant she needed to find a temporary home, which is how she ended up checking-in at the Leaky Cauldron.

She now found herself wandering aimlessly through the streets of Diagon Alley, wondering how she managed to get herself into such a mess.

Calm down, Lily thought to herself. You knew this was coming. Things between us have been rocky for ages, even before mum died.

It was true. Things with her sister had been in shambles ever since Lily first left for Hogwarts nearly six years ago. Throughout those years, the Evans girls lost both their mother and their father. Instead of bringing the girls closer together, it only drove them farther apart.

This is your last year at Hogwarts, Lily chastised herself. It's time to start looking forward to the future.

Hogwarts had always been a safe haven for Lily. She needed that now more than ever. Not only were things crumbling in her Muggle life, but things in the wizarding world were looking bleaker and bleaker every day.

Lord Voldemort and his followers were on the warpath, and Muggleborns were their number one target. Not a day went by that a murder wasn't reported about in The Daily Prophet. Lily's future hung in a delicate balance. Being a Muggleborn herself, she was always looking over her shoulder in both the Muggle world and the Wizarding world. Even at Hogwarts, she didn't feel completely safe. Not after everything that went down with her ex-best friend, Severus Snape.

Woah girl don't go down that path, Lily tried to calm herself as that fateful day from the end of fifth year came to mind. Screw Severus, screw Petunia, screw Voldemort. This is my last year at Hogwarts, and I'll be damned if it isn't the best year of my life.

With that thought in mind, she closed her eyes and took a few calming breaths to collect herself. Don't let them see they have gotten to you. Keep your head held high.

Feeling much more put together than she did ten minutes ago, Lily took a few steps forward to start back on her way. She didn't get very far when she ran straight into someone, nearly sending them both into the ground.

Two hands grabbed her shoulders, two very strong and sturdy hands. "I am so sorry, are you alright?" Lily's savior said, steadying them both.

"It's my fault. I wasn't looking at where I was going." Lily's arms were trapped in front of her, resting lightly on the man's chest as the stranger continued to hold her shoulders.

"Alright, Evans?" the voice said. She knew that voice. She knew that line. Lily's eyes snapped up, and she found herself looking at the face of the last person she would want to run into right now, James Potter. This is not how she wanted to see James for the first time since admitting her crush on him two months ago.

"Potter?!" Lily exclaimed. Lily felt a blush creeping its way up her neck and towards her cheek. She was still pressed tightly against his chest and couldn't help but notice how broad and firm it was. She found herself actively resisting the urge to run her hands all over it.

She cleared her throat and quickly straightened herself out. She stepped out of his arms and questioned, "What are you doing here?".

"Back to school shopping," he replied with a broad smile. His smile wavered when he got a good look at Lily's face, and she knew exactly what he was seeing. Her eyes were puffy and red, her hair was a tangled mess of curls, and the blush that was clearly visible on her cheeks, but that she knew had nothing to do with the events that happened earlier, but with the handsome man that stood in front of her right now.

"Seriously, Lily, are you alright?" James asked, concerned.

"I'm fine, just a little embarrassed at how clumsy I am. Sorry for nearly taking you down," Lily laughed, trying to lighten the situation.

"It was completely my fault," James said, which was a lie, but she appreciated it anyway. "It's good to see you."

Once again, Lily was reminded just how much James Potter had changed. All last year she watched and took note as James stopped hexing people, stop drawing attention to himself, and stopped his insistent unwanted advances on her. Because of this, they had been able to develop a tentative friendship that mostly involved awkward small talk when they found themselves sitting together in the Great Hall or in the Gryffindor Common Room.

Their newfound friendship had also led to them nearly kissing on several occasions. Occasions she had been fantasizing about all summer long.

"It's good to see you, too, James," Lily responded. "Fancy running into you here."

James laughed. "Literally. You don't seem alright though, Lily. Have you been crying?"

Dammit, Lily thought. Not only had James Potter stopped talking about himself constantly, but he had also started being an observant and sensitive person, much to Lily's dismay at this particular point in time.

"Is it that obvious?" Lily sniffled. It was clearly written all over her face. Lily hated showing weakness, she hated crying, and she hated doing both of those things in front of James Potter.

"Just a little," James offered a small smile. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No," she snapped. She felt bad after looking at the pain on his face. She was being unfair, and she knew it. "It's just family stuff. Thank you for offering, but I think I just need to get my mind off things. That's what I was trying to do anyway. Didn't really work out that well since I nearly took down the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain."

James laughed. "It takes a lot more than a pretty girl knocking into me to take me down." James looked at her thoughtfully, perhaps worried by calling her "pretty." James had lasted all sixth year without asking Lily Evans on a date, a personal record. However, they still ran into moments like this where James would drop an off-handed compliment, or Lily would catch him staring at her for a few seconds too long.

Lily quickly brushed the compliment off, "That's good to hear. I wouldn't want to take you out before the season even started. I would be labeled 'Public Enemy Number One' within Gryffindor Tower."

"McGonagall would have your head," they both laughed at this. It was safe to say their Head of House was more than just a little aggressive when it came to her Quidditch Team. She took a lot of pride in maintaining their claim as Quidditch Cup Champions.

While they laughed, she couldn't help but notice just how damn handsome he was. She had always known James was good looking, even when she despised him. But recently, she started realizing that he was drop-dead gorgeous. She found herself fantasizing about him more and more each day in more graphic detail. Friends can think about each other that way, right? God, I sure hope James Potter is not an accomplished Legilimens, Lily prayed.

"Do you want some company?" James asked shyly. That was new. James Potter was never shy, especially not while asking her out.

That's not what he's doing, Lily corrected herself. He's just being a good friend. That's what you are now, friends.

"Sure," Lily responded with a smile.

Read the rest of the chapter on Ao3

[just-jily]

Of Jealousy and Jumpers

A/N: Here’s a little something I came up with for @nolamc147. The request was for Jily Fluff and Jealous Snape. I hope I accomplished something you enjoy reading! 

The large, heavy-bound tome slammed down onto the table, startling Lily out of her focused studying of Transfiguration Through the Ages. She looked up, eyes wide with surprise, and met the cold glare of her former mate.

“I can’t believe you.” Severus Snape hissed, leaning closer to Lily.

Lily sat up straighter in her seat, pulling her face as far away from his as she could while still remaining in her seat. She refused to let him intimidate her.

“Well, I’m not sure what you can’t believe, but can you go about it somewhere else? I’m busy.”

“You’re just flaunting it about now, aren’t you?” Snape sneered, his eyes dropping to her chest. “You and Potter.”

Lily glanced down and registered exactly what jumper she had thrown on in her haste to get out of the common room so she could snag the best table in the library. There on her chest was the crest of Gryffindor—which was nothing special being that it was her house and all, however, underneath the embroidered crest were the golden stitches of thread that spelled out “CAPTAIN”. She had thrown on James’s Quidditch jumper, and Lily suddenly understood what Snape had meant about flaunting herself and James.

“I seem to be missing your point.” Lily said blandly, raising an eyebrow. 

Snape blanched, still, she could see the fury burning in his dark eyes. “You’re wearing his name, right there across your back for everyone to see.”

Lily glanced over her shoulder, pulling the sleeve so the back of the jumper was visible over her left shoulder. There was more gold thread embroidered into the burgundy material of the jumper, spelling out “POTTER” in big, bold letters.

“I suppose I am.” Lily smiled softly before turning back to Snape. “I don’t see what it matters to you, though. I thought you didn’t care about what mudbloods like me do?”

Snape flinched at the acid in her tone, though he didn’t back away. “You’re practically announcing to everyone that you’re shagging that prick.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Wearing a jumper doesn’t announce anything. Even if it did, it wouldn’t be any of your business, Snape.”

Over Snape’s shoulder, Lily could see the doors to the library opening and she craned her neck slightly to see who was entering the room. When she saw the familiar head of messy black hair, she couldn’t stop the bright smile from lighting up her face. She knew her cheeks were growing pink with the blush that always took residence on her face in the presence of James, but she didn’t care.

Snape watched the change in her features—saw her eyes go from cold and closed off while looking at him to shining with anticipation as a sweet blush covered her cheeks—and turned to see what had caught her attention.

Without looking back at him, Lily waved her hand dismissively. “Run along to your little Death Eater friends now. Don’t want to be seen with a dirty little muggleborn, now do we?”

“Bloody arrogant prick! And you,” Snape seethed. “You’ll see what a mistake you’re making, Lily. One day, you’ll realize that James Potter isn’t worth anything.”

Lily turned to him, her eyes burning as she glared at him. “James Potter is a better man that you will ever be. Now leave, and do not ever speak about James like that to me again. In fact, do not speak to me at all.”

She reached across the table and shoved the tome he had dropped—something about dark magic, unsurprisingly—closer to him. He snatched it up, shooting her one last scowl before turning on his heel and stalking off through the stacks of books.

When she looked back up, James was standing next to her chair, a slight frown on his face.

“What was that about?” he asked, looking at Lily with concern in his eyes.

“Snape didn’t think I was making an appropriate statement with my jumper.” She shrugged and smiled up at him, reaching out for his hand to pull him down beside her.

Before he sat, he peered around her and caught sight of his name printed boldly across her back. A grin spread across his face, lighting up his hazel eyes.

“You’re wearing my jumper.” Lily nodded. “You have my name, right there across your back.”

“Is there a problem with that?” Lily laughed, finally managing to tug him into the chair next to hers.

He ran a hand through his unruly hair, the smirk still lighting his features. “Not at all, Evans. You can wear my name anytime you want.”

“I keep that in mind.” Lily said, leaning over to kiss him lightly on the lips. Before she could pull away, however, James deepened the kiss, cupping her chin in his warm hands to hold her mouth to his own. A breathy sigh escaped from her lips as her eyes fluttered closed. Kissing James was something that would never get old.

Finally, James pulled back, a contented smirk on his charming face. “I brought you something, love.”

He gestured to a steaming mug sitting in the middle of the table. Lily grinned and pulled the mug towards her, raising it to her lips. She breathed in the rich aroma of her favorite tea—Earl Grey—and sighed contentedly.

“Just a splash of milk and one spoon of honey.” James said, watching as she took a sip of the warm liquid.

“Just how I like it.” Lily replied. “I didn’t know you knew how I take my tea.”

James ruffled his hair again and Lily noticed a hint of a blush coloring his neck. “I know a lot of things about you, love.”

Lily shifted in her seat, cupping the warm mug in her hands and kicking her feet up to rest in James’s lap. Her Transfiguration essay wasn’t due for another week, anyway.

“Oh yeah? Enlighten me then.”

James groaned, though he settled back into the chair and rested his hands on her legs, moving his fingers in lazy patterns across her jeans. Even through the fabric, Lily felt goosebumps rise on her skin from his touch.

“Oi.” He sighed, seeming resigned. “Well, for starters, I know that you prefer tea in the evenings and coffee with cream first thing in the morning. I know you’re not much of a morning person, but you’ll get up just to watch the sunrise. You bite your lip when you’re nervous or focused. When you’re really concentrating on something, you’ll wind a piece of your hair around your finger over and over again. I also know that even though you think its cliché, you love lilies. You also love rainstorms and crisp autumn days.”

He paused and Lily stared at James in awe, unsure of what to say.  He wouldn’t raise his gaze to meet hers, and chose instead to focus on the pattern his fingers were tracing up and down her thighs. Lily cleared her throat, trying to brush away the pressure she felt in her chest. James knew so much about her—all the little quirks and odd things she loved, he knew them all.

“Would you look at me?” Lily spoke softly as she leaned forward to catch his eye she placed her mug back onto the table beside her.

James finally looked up, his cheeks pink. “Bit of a git I am, huh? Making myself look like a stalker or something.”

“Just observant, I’d say.” She replied. “I think its rather sweet, you knowing so much about me.”

James rolled his eyes and chuckled, trying to brush it off. Lily dropped her feet to the ground and scooted her chair closer to his, cupping his face between both of her hands. Her green eyes were burning with emotion as they met his hazel ones with a gaze so fierce he couldn’t look away.

“I’m serious!”

“You’re not Sirius, you’re Lily.” James joked.

She rolled her eyes, dropping her hands into her lap. “Really, James. I think it’s sweet. And you aren’t the only one with stalker-ish qualities.”

His head shot up, eyes narrowing as he looked at her. “You’re just trying to make me feel less like a bloody sod.”

Lily shook her head, leaning back as she crossed her arms. As she spoke, she began ticking off her fingers, counting the jumble of facts that she knew about James Potter one by one.

“I know that you, despite your very British ancestry, despise tea. You prefer coffee, very black. I also know that read textbooks—particularly Transfiguration—for the fun of it. Every Hogsmeade trip you buy a boatload of chocolate for Remus and a bloody ridiculous amount of Zonko’s supplies for Sirius and Peter, just because. You like to get up early to fly around the Quidditch pitch before the sun comes up because it clears your head and you like the feel of the cold air on your face.”

Lily stopped, grinning at James as he looked at her in shock. “Told you, Potter.”

James shook his head, letting out a laugh. “I suppose you did, Evans.”

Lily sat up again, placing her hands on James’s knees and leaning so close to him that their lips were nearly touching.

“Bet I can tell you something you don’t know about me.” She whispered.

James swallowed. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

Lily brushed her lips over his swiftly—too quickly for it to be an actual kiss, but slow enough to leave James wanting more. Her eyes never left his as she spoke.

“I fall more in love with you every day, James Potter.”

Almost before the words were completely out of her mouth, James’s lips were crushed against her own. His reaction to her words was heady, a rush of a feeling that left Lily with a tingle of anticipation all the way to her toes. She knew that she had never spoke truer words before. She, Lily Evans, was completely in love with James Potter.

Her hands found their way into the thick mess of his hair, fingers tightening in the strands as his hands gripped her waist and pulled her out of her chair and onto his lap. In the back of her head, she knew that they were not conducting themselves the way they should in the library, but she couldn’t bring herself to pull away from James.

After what seemed like an eternity and much too short a time all at once, Lily pulled back and dropped back into her own seat, trying to smooth her hair back from her face and straighten her jumper—James’s jumper, really—while simultaneously looking around to see if anyone had seen them.

Luckily, the library was still fairly empty and the few younger students that sat around them didn’t seem to notice or care about the two of them.

“And Severus thought me wearing your jumper was flaunting our relationship.” She said, laughing.

When she looked back at James his whole face was lit up by his charmingly crooked grin. She shook her head and leaned against James, letting her head fall to rest on his shoulder. His arm came around her, pulling her as close to him as he could with their separate chairs.

“C’mon Evans, let’s hurry and get this Transfiguration essay over with so I can go snog you properly.” James said, kissing her lightly on the top of the head as he pulled the discarded text closer to them.

“Sounds like a plan, Potter.”

Two weeks later, when Lily and James got their essays back, they were not surprised to find that they had only gotten Acceptables, accompanied by a note in Professor McGonagall’s swooping writing at the top reading: For two of my top students, I found this essay to be rushed and hastily prepared. I expect to see a return to exemplary work next week.

James winked at Lily as he pointed to the note and mouthed “Worth it”. She laughed, nodding along with him. The snogging session that had cut short their work on their essays had definitely been worth it.  

 @petals-to-fish

[captains-writing-desk]

Bothersome Pt. 2

Universe: Harry Potter

Character: Severus Snape

Type: F!Reader insert (You, yours)

Words: 2,649

Prompt: For my dear anon asking for part 2 of Bothersome! This be the fluffy and angsty part.

Note: Sorry it took me a while I went home to visit my parents for a while. Hope you like it!

Gimme feedback and requests guys!

Part 1

-

True to his word, Severus didn’t leave you anything, not even the script he seemed to have spent all day writing. No matter, you could do some really fun things and make the students love you far more than him, though in all honesty most students would already have placed you higher in the ranks of favourites before you even set foot in the room for the first time. What if he despised you for it though? Hang on, since when had that ever crossed your mind in your decisions? Never. You would do it.

Your lessons went down without a hitch and were received very well since you’d ask at the end of each lesson how the students found it. Most responses were along the lines of ‘Much nicer than Snape’s lessons’, Which you assumed would happen but was still good feedback nonetheless.

When fourth period came, Albus caught up with you after sitting on the last ten minutes of the lesson, taking in the students feedback before coming to see you.

“I see they’ve taken quite fondly to you. Not just because Severus isn’t here.” He chuckled softly and you mirrored.

“I hope so. I look forwards to rubbing it in his face. Not that he would care much but still, I’ll say they learned more.” Would that be suspicious to the headmaster? Would he catch on to what happened between the two of you.

“He is easy to tease, especially in the nature of your relationship. Perhaps you’ve outgrown being an assistant. ” He caught you off guard with that one and you stared incredulously at him for a moment.

“Our relationship?” You pressed but tried to remain casual.

“You’ve a relationship based on insults no?” He smirked and you knew then that you’d put your foot in it by merely questioning the word relationship. Forgetting it can be any sort of bond. Bollocks.

“Oh yes. We do I suppose.” You laughed nervously, “Though I suppose it’s more that I just irritate him relentlessly.” You added in an attempt to make the situation a little less awkward for yourself.

“I doubt that very much.” He chuckled and excused himself as the students for the last class of the day started filtering in. You mentally kicked yourself over the whole interaction then greeted the students.

It was a nice easy lesson to end on, some fifth years that required little supervision, just answers to some of their questions when they needed for their OWLs preparation essays which they were able to finish outside of the lesson anyway.

You found yourself staring at the pillar where everything began the night before and got yourself lost in your thoughts. You started overthinking and getting anxious about seeing the man again and you would have started panicking had a voice not pulled you back to the room you were in.

“Professor?” They had repeated this a few times as you tried to shake yourself out of your daze.

“Sorry..” You finally looked at the student, “I’m not your professor you know. Yet.” You smiled and some students chuckled.

“Soon. I hope.” The student joked then proceeded with their question.

Soon enough practically all of the students had gotten bored of writing and were starting to get distracted.

“Alright I can see you’re all very bored. You’ll have plenty of time to be bored in the examinations so you can do what you like with last ten minutes of the lesson.” In all honesty you were pretty tired yourself and your mind kept wandering in the silence, so some mindless noise would be helpful. The class were definitely happy with their free reign and gave their thanks before turning to make conversation in amongst eachother as you went and sat at the desk.

“Professor?” You had not expected any of the students to talk to you but it was another welcome distraction.

“Yes?” You leaned forward, resting your chin on your hand.

“How much longer will you be here? You seem far more advanced to be an assistant now.” Everyone today was out to surprise you with their questions that you barely knew the answers to. You had been an assistant for some time now and you really had caught up to Severus’ level now. What would happen now?

“You know what. I’m really not sure.” You answered after a moment of thought, thinking about it, what had Albus meant earlier about outgrowing being an assistant? Was it time for you to leave and find an actual professors position? “Not very long, I fear.” You added quite blankly and the students made their jokes about how they wished you would replace Severus. The last few minutes went by with you sat in silence, wondering what your future held.

-

You meandered to the great hall for dinner and slowly picked at your food.

“Are you alright?” Minerva interrupted your blank but racing thoughts, “You seem to be off in the clouds.” She added with a terse smile, seeming quite concerned.

“Yes. Yes, I’m alright.” You cleared your throat and leaned closer to her, “Though I think it’s dawned on me it’ll be time to move on soon to find a permanent position.” You whispered softly and she smiled endearingly at you.

“You’ve grown fond of things here haven’t you? Yes, I think it is high time you found something more suited to your level now. You can’t stay an assistant forever you know?” She reassured you and mentioned you should have a word with Albus later.

“I suppose I should. He did mention it briefly earlier but I didn’t really think..” You trailed off as your heart rose into your throat, watching Severus walking through the students and you quickly averted your eyes to meet the gaze of Minerva, and Albus behind her. Minerva furrowed her brows and Albus had a look of masked amusement.

“You don’t look so well.” Minerva reached for your shoulder and pressed her other hand to your flushed cheeks.

“I’m quite alright.” You reassured with a weak smile and fidgeted your hands. Everything suddenly felt like too much and your body was telling you to run or perhaps to die in a hole in the ground, or both. Minerva went to speak again but Albus appeared between the two of you with his arm held out to you.

“Come. Let’s get you some air. I insist.” He added as you started to protest, taking your hand and urging you to stand. You let him help you to your feet as you felt your legs might give way. Severus had now sat in the empty chair that was next to you, brushing against your arm ever so gently but you stayed focussed on Albus’ arm and trying to look as normal as you could.

“You’re not in trouble.” He nudged you playfully as you stepped down from the plinth of the table you’d been sat at. You let yourself laugh to calm your nerves and it helped you at least look well as not to draw too much attention. You let go of his arm as you walked through the rows of students but he put his palm between your shoulder blades to keep you steady, as if he was afraid you’d fall.

-

After walking half of the grounds in s somewhat comfortable silence, you felt you needed to bring peace to your thoughts finally.

“Professor?” You caught his attention as he strolled casually next to you.

“Yes?” Be turned his head curiously to meet your gaze.

“You mentioned earlier it was time I should move on from being an assistant. What am I moving on to? How soon?” He chuckled at how desperate your voice seemed to get at the end.

“It is entirely up to you what you choose to do. You are welcome to stay here a bit longer if you like, however I feel like you’re getting nothing from assisting Professor Snape any more.” He was right, you hadn’t learned anything new for god knows how long.

“Where can I go?” You whispered, unsure of what else to say.

“I believe the ministry has some options for you but nothing practical for you. I am able to write to other schools and ask if they have anything for you. However, should you choose you want to stay here, I have a small proposition for you.” He smiled expectantly and you stared back.

“What is it?” You finally asked.

“Well, I noticed how much the students enjoy your approach to teaching, not just because Severus wasn’t there. You have a way of engaging with them and a good balance in your teaching style which is refreshing I must say. Now, I’ve only seen you a few times in one day but the students are all very keen to see you teaching them and I would have to give you a few weeks as a trial to see how you’re doing.” He started to excite you but you pushed that feeling down just in case.

“Doing what?” You pressed.

“I’d like you to revive Alchemy. If I recall, you had a great passion in it once but it is not a well taught subject I must say but I think you could bring it back into light. What do you think?” You had come to a stop in your walk back to the castle and he turned to stand in front of you.

“I haven’t done Alchemy in a fair few years, I’d be a little rusty but I’m sure I could do it.” A grin started spreading across your face which you could barely contain.

“Take some time to think about it and let me know what you think.”

“I’ll do it!” You barely let him finish his sentence and he laughed.

“I thought you might. Though as you said, you’re going to be rusty, so come see me tomorrow morning and we will go over what you remember and go from there, alright?” He put his hand on your shoulder.

“Absolutely. I’ll be there.” You nodded your head vigorously making him laugh once more as he turned towards the castle.

“I’ll see you in the morning, you should let Severus know you won’t be with him tomorrow.” He bid you a goodnight and disappeared inside.

“Right. Yes. Severus.” You muttered as your grin faded and your stomach flipped. Why were you worrying so much, nothing ended badly, he even kissed you goodnight but you knew, this changed the nature of everything. You took a deep breath and went back inside, following the corridor to the dungeons and pausing outside your own room, staring further down at the door to Severus’ classroom where you saw a faint light and the door slightly ajar.

“Bollocks.” You whispered and let your back softly thud against your door with your head thrown back then a long sigh.

“Long day?” You jumped out of your skin and turned your head to see Severus stood directly next to you, leaning against the frame of the doorway.

“Merlin!” You held your chest to calm yourself but that would not happen around Severus. How the hell did he get out of his room and here so quickly and quietly.

“Are you alright?” He asked after a moment of silence.

“Well I’ll probably die of a heart attack now. So thank you.” Finally regaining some sort of composure.

“What happened to you earlier?” He pressed with his brows furrowed and you looked to the floor.

“Nothing really. I just needed some air.” You sighed and looked up at him finally, watching his pupils dilate.

“Hmm. A likely story. How did you find today?” He folded his arms and pressed his lips into a firm line.

“It went great. The students love me. I wish I could see their faces in the morning when they realise it’s you teaching and not me.” You felt yourself relaxing as he seemed to be the same Severus you had known, it felt natural.

“Will you not be there to see the sheer excitement?” He raised his brow and you laughed at his sarcastic remark.

“Actually I’m spending the day with the headmaster tomorrow.” You folded your arms to mirror him.

“And why would you do that?” He tilted his head slightly and you felt your last little worry leave your head, why had you even worried in the first place.

“I probably shouldn’t tell you. Very top secret and they haven’t written your letter of termination yet.” Your body had slowly turned so that your shoulder was against the door instead and you faced him.

“Surely it’s a letter of commendation for putting up with you this long.” His lips formed a small smirk and you had yet another evil idea. One that would perhaps even put your mind at rest a little more regarding your situation with him.

“You should come inside for a moment.” You said softly with a sigh and led him inside your quarters where you sat him next to you on a sofa.

“The Headmaster spoke to me today about my position here. I’ve outgrown being your assistant, he said I was far too accomplished to stay.” You had to add some sort of zinger of course but remained serious in your expression. He searched your eyes for a moment and settled for you being truthful.

“Where will you go?” He forced himself to speak.

“Well he said he has found a potential position for me which is why I’m going to see him tomorrow.” You weren’t exactly lying, just withholding certain bits of information. He was silent for a long time, thinking so hard you could see the cogs in his head turning.

“Severus?” You were actually rather concerned now as you put your hand on his knee. He stares at it for a moment for putting his own hand on top of yours.

“I could teach you more.” He said softly.

“I don’t think you can.” You whispered, feeling guilty for trying to invoke something in him, you’d tell him the truth now and stop joking. “Besides, if you remember something to teach me I’ll only be down the corridor.” You smiled quite flatly, still feeling bad about your joke.

“What do you mean?” He looked at you now with a frown.

“Well I’m going to be doing Alchemy. Potentially anyway. Right here. Albus is going to see how I do tomorrow, if it goes well he will give me some time to prepare, them give me trial a period in a classroom.” He narrowed his eyes at you and your smile grew sheepish.

“That was cruel.” His voice sounded somehow deeper than ever.

“I’m sorry. Poor judgement on my part.” You squeezed his knee and looked at him with sincerity. He realized now what you had been trying to do and he almost went to retaliate but Minerva had been right earlier when he asked her what happened after you left the hall.

‘She’s worried about leaving here, about leaving someone close.’ She had said to him and he had shook it off as her playing games as she did with joking about the two of you but she had been right on this occasion.

“I don’t know what I’d have done I’d you left before I even got to figure any of this out.” His hand twitched against yours as a gesture for ‘this’. It wasn’t a big statement but you didn’t want a big statement. In fact it was the perfect statement, because now you could both figure everything out as you are meant to. Nothing can fall into place just like that but this was a pretty good start.

[missnight0wl]

Snape was the third person

Spoilers up to Y5Ch21. Also, a long post ahead.

Which person, you ask? You know, the one mentioned here:

I’ve seen some speculations that this line is about Duncan, however, it doesn’t really make much sense to me. First of all, there is a possibility that it was written after Duncan’s death. The timeline of Jacob’s actions is really fuzzy, we know that they were working on two vaults at some point, but it’s hard to say anything for sure. Nevertheless, even if Duncan was alive, it’d be still odd. With the way Jacob put it in words, it sounds like he’s surprised by the choice of that particular person, maybe even displeased. Yet, he was working with Duncan for R for some time already. Wouldn’t he be an obvious pick to be involved also into partnership with Rakepick? At least from Jacob’s point of view? Well, I think the requirements for that third person were more specific, and that’s why I believe Duncan is an unlikely candidate. More on that a bit later.

(Btw, don’t you think that MC should at least think of asking Duncan whether Jacob was working with Rakepick and if he knows anything more about it? Sure, in Y5Ch21, MC mentions that they’re Rakepick’s apprentices, and Duncan doesn’t seem to react on this name, but perhaps he simply didn’t know it? Maybe MC should try asking if Jacob mentioned at any point a bitchy redhead Curse-Breaker, or a vixen trying to save his life? No? Too much thinking? All right then.)

I’ve also discussed once a possibility of that person being MC’s father, HOWEVER, the father’s absence issue really irks me lately, and I don’t want to go too deep into that - especially that Snape simply makes more sense if you ask me. So let’s discuss that.

At first, it doesn’t look like a probable situation. I mean, Snape hates Rakepick - why would he agree to work with her on the Cursed Vaults? Patricia could possibly be willing to cooperate, but she’s not very fond of him either. As for Jacob though... Well, truth be told, we can’t actually tell much about his relationship with Snape. In fact, we can’t even be certain that he was taught by Severus or they just went to school at the same time. I suppose that everything Snape tells us about our brother could be as well told by another student. But then, there was that one mention:

It’s from Y3Ch5 when we finally got back Jacob’s notebook. I do think it strongly suggests that Snape was a teacher at that point, someone with the authority over our brother. And since he was avoiding him, he probably didn’t like him much. 

But how did it look on Snape’s side? Sure, now he apparently hates Jacob (I think it’s rather anger and/or disappointment), although, in my opinion, it wasn’t always the case. Do you remember our conversation from Y5Ch4 about Penny?

I believe it’s not a coincidence that Jacob was also mentioned in that sentence. We’re told all the time that he was a talented student, brilliant at basically everything. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if he was also good at Potions, and if Snape sees his Vaults obsession as wasting a potential. I’d even say he might’ve liked him before all of that. And let’s be honest, does Snape working with someone he hates in order to PROTECT A CHILD sounds like something unlikely to happen? Moreover, the fact that Jacob went missing/turned into madness might be another reason why Snape despises Rakepick even more - he can blame her, think that she manipulated Jacob. Oh, and when we spy for him in year 4, he’s got this line:

... so, was Jacob among that eliminated competition?

Still, in the end, all of that above is mostly conjecture. That was until we got THAT ONE FREAKING LINE in Y5Ch17 which is driving me crazy:

WHY THE HELL WE’RE NOT TALKING ABOUT THAT?! LIKE...?! *internally screaming*

I mean, it takes place one chapter after Rakepick was swearing she never met our brother, and now Snape basically tells us that she CHOSE him? I’m sorry, but what?! Am I looking too deep into this or he’s simply admitting that Rakepick was working with Jacob? Because if that’s the case, we have three options:

Snape is assuming that because he hates Rakepick and all evil in the world is her fault,

Snape knows she chose Jacob because he was working with them too,

Snape found out about their partnership through spying OR research.

Now, I want to add more to that last option. One thing about Rakepick that I feel is not being stressed enough during the story is the fact that she is quite famous in the wizarding world. There was at least one book written about her (MC gave it to Bill when they met in year 2), but that’s not all. Let’s go back to year 4 again. In the chapter about Bowtruckles, there’s a part where we write an essay and Rowan joins us. We get three options for them:

If we choose “Madam Rakepick”, this is what we learn:

Hm, I wonder what are chances that this assistant’s name was Jacob... The question is, why it seems like the article doesn’t mention any name at all. Either way, it’s very possible that Snape did similar research and found the same information. And here again, he could’ve just assumed that it’s about Jacob, or he dug deeper (more likely) and actually discovered their identity.

Anyway, no matter which option is true, I find it beyond annoying that MC DOESN’T EVEN ASK why Snape said that. Seriously, it’s not the first time when they make MC ignore things that obviously should get their interest: why they didn’t know about Duncan, who is Olivia Green, who Jacob was working with in Knockturn Alley, why there are random Gryffindor robes in Jacob’s room, WHY DON’T WE TAKE CARE OF THE MESS IN THERE FOR ONCE? I understand that they don’t want to reveal too much of the plot too fast, but simply let us ask. Let characters avoid answering or lie to us. Otherwise, MC just looks stupid, and it’s starting to piss me off.

Back to the topic though. I’ve mentioned the specific requirements for the third person at the beginning. And what rare skill Snape and Jacob have in common? They’re Legilimens. I assume that Legilimency might be somehow needed for the buried vault. Maybe they need combined powers or something. It’d also explain why it HAD to be Snape - because there’s not a lot of people to choose from. Although, now that I think about it, it might be rather about Occlumency. Perhaps the vault messes with your mind (which actually goes well with my idea for the final vault)... In both cases, Severus fits the bill and he’s a better solution than bringing another new character with such unique abilities.

[dusk-realm]

Chrysanthemum [Chapter 4: Departure]

The previous parts:

Chapter 1: https://dusk-realm.tumblr.com/post/181935653630/chrysanthemum-part-1-light-heart-heavy-heart

Chapter 2: https://dusk-realm.tumblr.com/post/182501082445/chrysanthemum-part-2-caught-in-a-lie

Chapter 3: https://dusk-realm.tumblr.com/post/182659399705/chrysanthemum-part-3-the-wand-chooses-the

A/N: I really need to find out how to make a masterlist D:

A/N 2: this may feel a bit like a filler, but it actually isn’t. I decided to split the text I had originally planned because this part was already 3k words long and I didn’t want tumblr to cut the text at some random point.

Tagging: @featurelengthfics​

Special thanks to @fallern618, whose gentle words encouraged me to continue with my writing.

They went past the heavy gargoyle for the second time that day. (Y/N), not having been able to satiate her curiosity, gawked at the enormous room, filled with portraits and all sorts of curious and strange objects of  all materials. That is, she could only allow herself to be mesmerized until she spotted Dumbledore looking at her with one of his signature smiles, making her get embarrassed at her own lack of restraint and her cheeks blush in shame. She didn’t see it, but Snape was smirking behind her, and Dumbledore’s smile widened in form of silent complicity.

‘Did you wish to see me, Professor?’

‘Yes, Miss (Y/L/N), come forward, don’t be shy.’ He cheered. (Y/N) did as told and approached the old man, who took and raised her hand softly for Fawkes to perch himself on her arm. Her eyes lit up with excitement as a wide grin spreaded on her face.

‘Do you enjoy magical creatures, (Y/N)?’ Dumbledore asked merrily, although he already knew the answer judging by the admiration in her visage.

‘I do.’ The girl smiled widely as she petted softly Fawkes’ crimson feathers. An ugly screech came from somewhere in the office. (Y/N) raised her head to where the noise had come from. It was annoying, and disruptive, and ugly, and familiar.

‘Chilli?’ She called, and another unpleasant screech answered.

‘What is my owl doing here, sir?’ The girl inquired.

‘I arranged your belongings to be brought here, my dear, but we will eventually get to that. Chilli made quite a fuss, though. He didn’t agree on leaving your dorm.’

‘Well, yes… He is a grumpy old man. He doesn’t respond to his name unless he sees his treat, and he hasn’t allowed me to touch him ever since I bought him. He likes to bite.’

‘I see…’ Dumbledore let out a long, knowingly hum, hiding one of his hands between his thick beard and his extravagant robes. (Y/N) didn’t notice the gesture as she was too busy getting the heavy bird to perch on her other arm. She was starting to have cramps and Fawkes seemed way too comfortable there to leave for his own perch.

‘If you enjoy animals, (Y/N), I would highly recommend you to choose Care of Magical Creatures for your third year as an elective.’ Dumbledore continued casually.

You can’t be talking seriously.

‘I will consider it, sir, but the third course is still far for me…’ She answered with a hint of disappointment in her voice. It’s true, that issue was still looming around. What would she do? Was it even worth continue trying? What for? He can’t have the nerve to speak to me about the third year, can he?

‘Maybe it is not as far as you think, young lady.’

Oh fuck off.

‘What..?’ She raised her head once again towards the headmaster with a soft frown. Are you messing with me? ‘What do you mean..?’

‘I have observed you playing with the professors. You are more than capable of doing magic; seeing your struggles to raise your grades for the past two years, I have decided that you shall pass all the remaining subjects of the first course. In September, you will be joining the second course.’ He announced. (Y/N) blinked a few times in disbelief. Her ears buzzed and her hands began trembling and sweating without control.

‘I… What? Pass? You’re… passing me?’ The girl swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly felt dry and her tongue was nothing but an alien piece of dried leather. She turned around as to seek confirmation from her Head, which made Fawkes spread his wings to keep balance on his now wiggly perch. (Y/N) saw a puffed up Snape, who glanced confidently at her with his black eyes strangely glittering.

Does this really mean..?

‘But you can’t do that,’ she stated, turning around again towards Dumbledore, ‘we’re out of term.’ Dumbledore chuckled gently and offered his arm to Fawkes before reassuringly resting his free hand on the student’s shoulder.

‘There’s no need to be so strict with yourself, my girl. Now that you have your own wand, I see no sense in making you repeat the first course for the third time. Being Headmaster has its advantages.’ He finished with a cheeky wink at the girl, who still couldn’t get over her shock.

‘I pass on… to Second Year.’ She pronounced, looking at Snape for the third time. It felt so strange to be pronouncing those words, as if it was a sentence in a foreign language yet to be learned. She needed to speak them aloud, give them a dimension of reality, some weight, some attachment or link grounding her feet to earth, reassuring her that it was true and not some abject delusion. It took two years. Two full years to achieve that. Her face suddenly lit up with enthusiasm, nearly squealing when she next spoke.

‘I passed, Professor Snape!!’

‘Save some of that excitement, dear (Y/N), for what I have to tell you now, ’ Dumbledore added after letting a roaring laughter out.

‘I hope it’s more good news!’ She revealed cheerfully. Dumbledore nodded before replying:

‘As I have become aware of your situation, young one, Severus here has very kindly offered to take you in for the summer. You won’t have to worry about food, homing or your school supplies. Does that sound good?’ Albus tempted.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore how could you say that to her you little-

But a gentle voice interrupted Severus’ stream of thought.

‘You.. offered… to take me in? Like… a protégée?’

Severus tried his best to keep a straight face.

‘Yes, you will stay with me since you don’t have any relatives to send you with.’ Snape declared. His scowl deepened as he spoke, seething with anticipated anger. None of the students would be happy to spend a whole three months with Professor Snape, after all. The Professor Snape was very well aware of the fame he had earned himself. He was already anticipating a rejection at best, maybe even a face of disdain, or maybe even disgust: ‘If you have any inconvenient as to coming with me, let me remind you tha-’

‘Thank you.’

‘What did you say?’

‘Thank you, professor.’ She gladly repeated, letting a beaming smile wash away her preoccupations. Snape gaped, finding himself at loss of words for the first time in front of a student in many years, only to finally give up and look away in obvious embarrassment.

In the meanwhile, the eldest professor had been watching the scene develop from afar.

These two will be alright.

Noticing Professor Snape’s change of attitude, (Y/N) re-directed the conversation towards a more comfortable topic for him.

‘Do you live far from here, professor?’ She masked her realization by formulating her question in an innocent tone. It was an old custom of her; to see and not be seen, masking herself under an apparent obliviousness. She always preferred to act ignorant and keep her knowledge to herself, just in case it would render useful at some point.

‘Cokeworth.’

The girl nodded in response, only once. From what she gathered from her memories of muggle primary school, Cokeworth was a former industrial city in the Midlands. Recalling her teachers’ despise for factory life, some flashes of the textbooks resurfaced in her brain. Cramped tiny houses, small streets, low hygiene, dirt, poverty.

‘Are we going to use floo powder again?’ She asked.

Snape shook his head softly and replied calmly:

‘We will apparate.’

‘I thought nobody could apparate inside Hogwarts?’

‘Indeed. We will be leaving the grounds in a carriage, then we will apparate. Hagrid should have one ready by now.’ Snape explained in his usual low voice. The aplomb of his words contrasted with (Y/N)’s hectic thoughts.

Y E S.

(Y/N) had adored the rides in carriages since the moment she set foot on Hogwarts. They were relaxing and it felt fancy, truth be told. Without further notice, Snape turned around and began walking outside of the office, without even saying goodbye to Professor Dumbledore. (Y/N) panicked and rushed to grab Chilli’s cage,

‘A-ah, Professor Snape, please wait!’ She called out, grabbing her luggage on her way out of the office.

‘Goodbye Professor Dumbledore, see you in September!’ She blurted before leaving, to which Dumbledore waved goodbye gently.

(Y/N) rushed behind the last peak of black robes that her eyes caught until she managed to catch up with the potions master. More or less. She would normally struggle to keep up with such a quick pace, let alone carrying a grumpy owl and her luggage. Snape silently guided her down and down the stairs, out of the castle, and down and down the endless stairs to the boat house. The teenager huffed and panted behind her professor.

No, no, you don’t need to help me with my luggage. No! Professor, I am alright, really. Well, if you insist…

She ironically rehearsed in her mind. Snape glared at her for a split second, just enough to make the other nearly shit in her pants.

Crap, it can’t be true.

Nah.

They just made that up because he’s scary and they’re easy-to-read simpletons.

He can’t actually read minds.

Finally, (Y/N) could make out the figure of Hagrid, who was using his giant arm to protect his eyes from the intense summer sun. The girl did not have any particular relationship with the gamekeeper, but seeing him always felt warm and nurturing, and he had been helping out with her owl, so she gathered all her remaining strength and accelerated downstairs, leaving Professor Snape behind.

‘ ‘Ey, took ye long enough, ‘ow’s Chilli doin’?’ The half-giant ruffled the Slytherin’s hair with his hand as she chuckled lightly.

‘Still moulting himself, but at least he’s eating well.’ Hagrid stuck a finger through the cage’s spikes, not minding when Chilli nibbled it. Snape arrived while he was baby talking the owl, making him straighten up and clear his throat before helping (Y/N) to get her luggage in the boat and then jump in safely. Hagrid politely tended his hand to Professor Snape too, but he stepped in the boat on his own and sat down facing his student, to which she smiled awkwardly.

‘Professor, I’ve noticed that you don’t have any luggage with you…’ She noted politely. Meanwhile, Hagrid got in the boat, making it rock dangerously. Chilli didn’t appreciate it either and he let out a shriek.

‘My suitcase is already prepared and waiting outside the grounds, Miss (Y/L/N). Mr. Filch is guarding it.’ He drily responded. ‘Thank you for your interest.’ He finally added, although (Y/N) could not tell if he was being sarcastic or if he really meant it, so she only acknowledged the information with a nod before going silent again. In the meantime, Severus kept his eyes fixated on her- he studied every inch of her body, every minimum gesture, her facial expression, her stance, her look. His mind was a turmoil of questions about her. He had been wanting to spend a few minutes talking with her, but he hadn’t had the chance to do so. Madam Pomfrey had had her almost secluded, and then Dumbledore and McGonagall moved faster while he was at Hogsmeade. Hogsmeade, true. He became aware of a little extra weight inside his cloak, which he gently checked with his right hand.

Maybe on another occasion. He told himself. Severus resumed his previous thread of thought. Isn’t this child way too content to come to stay at my house? He narrowed his eyes, as if he could induct an answer from some sort of  physical evidence. You don’t have parents, where were you living before? Only Merlin knows how I wish Dumbledore gave me a handbook or something. A n y information would be fine. Look what you got me into, you lousy-bearded bastard.

(Y/N) had grown increasingly uneasy. She was facing away from the castle, so the only landscape availbable was... Professor Snape. And evidently, she had noticed his incessant glare, as if he was going to jinx her or something. She tried to distract herself by watching Hagrid rowing, but there wasn’t much entertainment either halfway through the lake. The gamekeeper tried to comfort her every so often with a gentle smile, but it was still a rather difficult task when Snape wouldn’t take his eyes away from her, and most importantly, he woudn’t even bother try to be a little discreet.

This is going to be a looong summer.

She fidgeted with her fingers. She lowered her gaze slowly, and began watching  her worn-out shoes.

Damn, I’m going to need a new pair soon. Plus they hurt, I don’t think this is my size anymore. I guess I’ll have to go bare feet for the summer if I want them to last…

They almost distracted her from the fact that Snape hadn’t quitted staring at all, but of course, he had to snap her back into reality:

‘Miss (Y/L/N)?’ Snape called softly.

‘Y-yes?’ (Y/N) answered a bit startled.

‘I’m assuming you’re sure of having packed everything?’

‘Ah, yes, I have everything with me.’ Severus nodded at this and continued:

‘Good. We’re there.’ He got up as he spoke and tended his hand at her. Good thing he did, because the second she took it and got up from her seat, Hagrid did a pretty rough dock that made her nearly fall off into the water.

‘Hagrid!!’ She called out, startled, still trying to keep her balance while her heart thumped. Severus somehow managed to keep his and her feet firm on the wooden floor, all the while that damned owl became stressed and began screeching again.

‘Hoho, sorry princess.’ The half-giant dismissed her complaint and helped her to firm ground with one hand, and with the other the luggage was hoisted in a second.

‘Yer carriage awaits ye.’ He mocked, making a pompous reverence indicating a ‘horseless’ carriage. The majority of the kids thought that the carriages were charmed to move on their own, but (Y/N) (Y/L/N) knew better, even if everybody refused to believe it. From the first time she set foot on Hogwarts’ grounds, she had been able to see the thestrals pulling the carriages. They were beautiful, mesmerizing creatures, and they were for her eyes only. She had investigated on her own in the library, where she had discovered that they ate meat despite resembling horses. At the beginning and at the end of each course, she had the tradition of sneaking a piece or two of meat with her and feed it to whichever thestral was pulling her carriage as a treat. This time, she didn’t had the usual beef with her, but she did have some thawed mice that were supposed to be for Chilli. She peered at Professor Snape.

 Can you see them? She rhetorically asked in her mind. 

And Hagrid? You must know about them even if you don’t see them, you’re the gamekeeper. And you love animals so much. 

Cage and suitcase in hand, (Y/N) walked decisively to the carriage as if to manage her own belongings, which she did, but in the process, she walked around the front of the carriage and grabbed a mouse from a small compartment hidden at the bottom of Chilli’s cage. She discreetly hand fed the thestral, or so she thought, for Snape was suddenly by her side yanking her arm away from the creature.

‘Ouch!’ She whined.

‘May I know what, on, earth you’re doing? Do you want your fingers bitten off?!’ (Y/N)’s eyes averted in shock.

‘That means you see them! You don't only see them, you know about them!’ Severus grunted before answering.

‘I do, and you must be wary of them. You should know, that the Ministry gave them XXXX classification. Just below werewolves.’ He said, hoping to scare her enough to get some sense into her brain.

Do you have any sense of self-preservation at all, kid?

‘I know,’ she replied, very calmly, ‘and I know that the classification was given probably because of the stigma of being traditionally thought to be omens of death. Although I'll concede, wild thestrals must not be approached by someone without training, but these are puppy-dog tame.’

Snape looked as if he was going to say something, but Hagrid's deafening laughter erupted first.

‘Yer goin’ te be a great magizoologist, (Y/N)! Next year ye’ve got te come over fer tea.’

‘Of course! I'll come by to pay a visit, it sounds lovely.’ The girl promised with a soft smile stretching out her lips. Then, Hagrid raised a bit his eyebrows and pointed at the potions professor, who was waiting for her to get in the carriage.

‘Have a nice summer, princess.’ Hagrid mocked, to which she stuck her tongue out playfully before saying goodbye as well.

‘You too, Hagrid. Take care of yourself.’ She finally got into the carriage, and the thestral started pulling. Both of the passengers went dead silent again. Snape resumed his examination, and (Y/N) was terrified to look up and find a furious Snape.

‘Thestrals,’ he began after a few minutes, in a low velvety voice, ‘ are only visible to those… who have witnessed... death.’ He finished almost murmuring. His hands rested on his lap while the fingertips of one hand found the other’s. (Y/N) took a long breath in before glancing at him directly into the eyes. They were piercing and intense, but she kept her gaze and chose to simply nod.

‘It is, fairly rare, for a child so young as yourself to be able to see them, though.’ (Y/N) remained perfectly still, knowing very well where he was going. Again, she didn’t reply anything and instead, observed how Snape’s scowl grew deeper and deeper. He was preparing his next move, when (Y/N) firebacked:

‘So, is it common for school teachers to be able to see them, Professor Snape?’ She finished with her eyebrows slightly raised and her chin up, waiting expectant. With some luck, he would refuse to tell his own experience, considering how improper it would be from a teacher.

 Snape only let out a grave grunt and allowed silence to take over once again. The only sound left was the swaying of the carriage on the dirt road, there was no more conversation, no small talk either. But the same question crept in their minds:

What are you hiding?

[dictionarywrites]

Prompt: “you owe me a kiss.” For whichever characters in either Buffy or Harry Potter tickle your fancy?

11. you owe me a kiss. (x)

My Ao3 | Send requests | Tip jar!

“You owe me,” is the first thing Potter says, and Severus inhales through his nostrils, gritting his teeth together. Were there some merciful force in the universe, Severus things - even a remotely merciful force, or some spirit of justice, or indeed, anything... 

Well.

In all likelihood, there is some such creation spread throughout the weave of the world at large, and thus why Severus’ torture goes on even now.

“Auror Potter,” Severus says, in the most patient tone he can muster which, in fact, is not very patient at all. His voice is very low, and he speaks slowly and stiffly, through his teeth with his jaw tightly clenched. “In what manner, pray tell, do you believe that I owe you?”

“Well,” Potter says, with an insufferable smirk on his face, and Severus scowls at him, his arms tightly crossed over his chest. “I’ve just saved your life.”

“In delaying the sweet release of my death, Potter, one could argue that you have done me an inconvenience.” Potter stares at him for a second, his green eyes widening just slightly - Lily had never done that. Lily had never used her eyes the way that Potter uses them now (and Potter had never used these features like his son does now). Funny, how differently--

And of course, neither of them had lived this long.

Potter is approaching thirty now, and his age is showing prematurely. That’s the case in many of his compatriots, but especially in Potter himself: Severus can see the deep shadows under his eyes, the slight sallowness to his cheeks, the slight wrinkling showing either side of his eye, and frown lines on his brow. 

And then he smiles, and it’s as if it all fades away: frown lines give way to laughter lines, and there’s a glow to his visage, to the way that he beams... Severus tips his head back against the ceramic green brick of the wall, and he glances toward the ceiling. The corridor outside of Potter’s office, at least, is mercifully empty of traffic. Severus is fairly certain the boy moves it every month or so, because in the now six attempts on Severus’ life that have landed him here in the Ministry of Magic, the labyrinth of corridors leading to Potter’s desk has seemed entirely different. This aids him, Severus presumes, in his understandable avoidance of so-called journalists. 

“Don’t smile at me,” Severus says.

“You owe me,” Potter repeats. “I saved your life again, Severus - that’s twice this year.”

“Mr Snape is my name,” Severus says.

“Alright, Mr Snape,” Potter says, like he’s actually struggling not to smile, and failing. It’s a handsome smile. Severus doesn’t care for it. “Come to dinner with me.”

“No.”

“Come for a romantic walk with me.”

“No.” Potter looks thoughtful for a second, his arms loosely crossed over his chest, and then he nods to the door behind him. 

“Let’s go into my office now and I’ll ride you on my desk.” Severus’ shocked pause is infinitesimal, but Potter’s smug expression declares in printed script that he catches it.

“No.”

“Oh, Severus, come on,” Potter says, uncrossing his arms and looking at Severus with a pleading expression on his face. “I’ve been asking you out for five years now - all whilst waiting, by the way, for the minimum prerequisite age of twenty-three that you declared any potential partner must meet. An arbitrary prerequisite, in my opinion.”

“I didn’t declare that,” Severus says. “I stated it, calmly, and in an even voice.”

“What’s the difference between that and a declaration?”

“A declaration is something of a spectacle. I made no spectacle.”

“You absolutely made a spectacle: you were sloshed.”

“I was not,” Severus says. “You were very drunk, and I was sober and deadpan.”

“You are usually sober and deadpan, that does make sense, in retrospect.” Potter has taken two steps closer, and Severus presses his thin lips tightly together as Potter looks down at him. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

“You couldn’t make me uncomfortable if you used every dark curse under the sun.”

“I meant emotionally, not physically.”

“Haven’t you heard? I don’t have emotions.” Potter exhales, and his lips twitch, the expression... Fond. There’s no one else in the world that would still smile at him fondly, like that. 

“Yes, you do,” Potter says softly. “You owe me. You owe me-- You owe me a kiss.”

“A kiss,” Severus repeats. “You are prepubescent.”

“That’s not true,” Potter argues. “I’m over the arbitrary age of twenty-three and everything.” Severus tries to control the twitch of his lip, and is unsuccessful: Potter’s beam is like sunshine.

“You’re aging very quickly,” Severus says in a punishing tone. “Have you started dyeing your hair yet?” Potter blinks at him, and then he smiles, but the smile is just slightly forced.

“Oh, I’ve been dyeing it for nearly seven years now,” Potter says, in a tone close to casual, but not quite passing the threshold. “It’s not even a nice white, or anything. It’s just shades of dark grey, as if the Dulux dog was painting a prison cell and couldn’t pick a shade.” Severus is struck, abruptly and with immense weight, with the urge to apologize. Ridiculous. Ridiculous. 

“I dye mine,” Severus says.

“Really?” Potter says, visibly eager for any detail about Severus’ life.

“No,” Severus says. For a moment, Potter stares, and then he laughs again, turning his head away. Severus sees his face in profile, shadowed in the dimly lit corridor, and then he sees the smile slowly fade from his face, replaced with a vague approximation of what Severus assumes is intended as professional integrity. 

“I’m sure I should let you go, Mr Snape,” he says quietly. “I’ve taken up enough of your time.” Severus rises to leave, and Potter says, “But--” Severus freezes.

“But?”

“But you owe me a kiss.”

“Do I.”

“You do.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“No.”

“A date?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Marriage, then.” Severus, entirely without meaning to, laughs. It’s shocked out of him, a dark little chuckle that rips itself from between his teeth without his permission, and Potter is staring at him in such shock, his mouth gaping like a fish. “Is that a yes?”

“Do you always take incredulity for an affirmative?”

“I’d take anything you gave me, at this point,” Potter says. “But--”

“Yes, yes, consider yourself heard, Potter. I owe you a kiss.” He takes a slow step forward, his boot making not the slightest sound on the tiled floor, and he brings them closer together, close enough that he can smell the cigarette smoke Potter never bothers to disguise when he’s alone with Severus (not that Severus cares, or that he’s ever mentioned it, or that it matters), close enough that he can smell the lingering scent of broom wax and the leather of his gloves (he’d flown out to meet Severus and Sidealong with him, for he is denied an Apparition license as part of his parole)... He can smell Potter’s shampoo - it’s a Muggle shampoo. Women’s shampoo. Severus doesn’t know if that means anything. 

“You smell of the apothecary,” Potter whispers.

“Yes, Potter,” Severus says with faux patience. “I work there.” He leans in closer, so that his nose brushes against Potter’s, and he feels the burn of self-loathing in his chest, all across his skin: it is made worse by the way that Potter parts his lips and leans up, moving closer to Severus instead of drawing his face away. “You don’t have anything to say?” Severus asks in a low voice.

“I work here,” Potter chokes out.

“That is... startlingly unintelligent.”

“No, I meant--”

“Too late. You’ve said what you’ve said, and we must both live with it.”

“You’re making me sound like an idiot!”

“You do that on your own.” Potter tilts his head, and Severus puts his palm on the younger man’s chest and holds him still before he can close the gap. “If I kiss you,” Severus whispers, “you must promise to stop this. Entirely and utterly, you must cease this obscene campaign you have no doubt characterised in your own mind as romantic.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable,” Potter begins, and Severus scoffs.

“I am not uncomfortable.”

“Do you think I’m attractive?”

“I think you’re an idiot.”

“But an attractive idiot?”

“A stupid idiot.” 

A pause. Potter’s eyes meet with Severus’, looking searchingly at the depths of his unfeeling, black eyes.

“I’m not imagining it, am I?” Potter asks. “I am making progress. You are letting me get closer, quarter-inch by quarter-inch.”

“You’re very close to me right now,” Severus allows.

“I meant emotionally,” Potter says. “Not physically.”

“You keep repeating yourself.”

“For ten years now. You keep repeating yourself too.” Severus’ lips twitch, and he shifts his fingers on Potter’s chest, feeling the silken green of his Auror’s robe. “I just don’t want you to say no to me on the basis that you think you don’t, um... I don’t know, that you don’t deserve anyone. That you think you deserve to be punished, or lonely.” Severus scowls again. 

“Have you considered my refusals are coming on the basis that I despise to be psychoanlysed?”

“Oh, I’ll stop, if you kiss me. I won’t psychoanalyse anybody ever again,” Potter promises.

“Your Auror work might suffer in the wake of such a vow.”

“Bollocks to the Auror work. I’ll become a waiter.”  They stand there, together, in the dim light. Severus can feel Potter’s breath against his mouth and his chin, and he wonders what it would be like, to close the gap between them, to kiss him. He’s wondered about it, on and off, for the better part of ten years. Severus Snape is an awful man - he’s aware of this. “Are you going to kiss me, maybe? Or let me kiss you?”

“Not today,” Severus decides, and he walks down the corridor. He feels Potter staring after him, but for once, Potter doesn’t call anything after him, or try to call him back.

Severus’ robes feel too tight and too heavy, and he has a fleeting wish that someone else might come to the apothecary today with the vague view of murdering him, and then feels foolish for such a childish thought. 

I’m not imagining it, am I?

Ridiculous.

Ridiculous. 

[wolfstariscanon]

Guys, I’m about to introduce you to the funniest fanfiction ever written

The Puzzling Prattlings of a Pulchritudinous Potions Professor  by JuicyJuice

This is the funniest fanfiction to ever exist I’m not kidding. I first read it last year and I stayed up till like 3 or 4am and by that time I was laughing so hard it hurt. I have this fic saved on my phone and my laptop in case I ever need a good laugh because, believe me it will deliver. If this fic fails to make you laugh idk what even will make you laugh tbh.

Here are some excerpts so you guys understand what im talking about (I’ll put them under a read more becuase otherwise this post would be super long):

“But I was already angry with Dumbledore. Only the day before I had asked (again) why he felt I was not appropriate for the Defense Against the Dark Arts job when he clearly felt that a mass of turbaned nothingness was. Well, I didn’t really ask him, per se. I took all of his fuzzy socks hostage (harder than you might think—they were locked in an underground chamber guarded by a troll) and threatened to feed them all to the giant squid if he didn’t fire Quirrel immediately.

He smiled, probably because he knew nothing alive would ever consent to eat his socks, and insinuated that I have an unsatisfactory love life. Actually he said something like, “Severus you should find yourself a nice, patient, not-too-goodlooking person to settle down with and give up this petty nonsense. You may do whatever you like with my socks.” Then he gave me an eye-twinkling smile, put me in a full body bind and threw me (quite literally) out of his office. He’s got hefty arms for an old worm in a pointy hat.

Cocky old man. I hope his eyes twinkle out of his sockets. I spent the rest of the evening burning most of his socks in my fire. It left an awful smell. Eventually I realized that I should stop, so I took the remaining socks and hid them on the forbidden third floor. I cleverly figured that Dumbledore would never look there, since he knew that “Fluffy” was after his blood since he had stolen its tambourine.”

“Following this of course, she took to barging in on me at the most unexpected moments, like it was some sort of game. I took to dressing and undressing crouched behind my bed, as a precaution. She gave me quite a turn once when I was ferreting around on the floor (pretending to be a ferret, obviously—it’s an excellent stress reliever) and she stormed in like a wild boar on steroids. I had to say I was searching for my eyeglasses.

“You don’t have eyeglasses,” she said like the insolent, disagreeable thing she is. I replied, with the greatest dignity for someone in ferret-pose on the floor, “For a lady of your stature, Minerva, you should comprehend the secret lives of secretive, er. . .secrets. But now I will divulge to you and only you a great mystery of the mind which is: I have eyeglasses!. . .and they are somewhere. They cannot be with us right now as they are on a secret mission of their own.” I thought I had handled the whole thing prodigiously well, but her look told me that she knew I had no clue what I was talking about, probably because I didn’t have any clue what I was talking about. She then said, “Severus, neither you, nor I, nor anyone else has any clue what you are talking about.” “Ha!” I said, still in ferret-pose, “That’s just because no one else can hear us!””

“he most shameful day of my life reared its ugly head four pathetic days later.  As a direct consequence, I barricaded myself into a broom cupboard and resolved never leave until I was legally and spiritually dead.  I would become a broom cupboard hermit crab.  I would be a legend at Hogwarts.  In fifty years First Years would skitter past the door nervously, knowing that something inside it was alive.  The Seventh Years would dare each other to open the door or peek through the keyhole, but none of them, not even the dumbest Gryffindor, would have the nerve.  Filch would suffer a sudden death because he would never see some of his smelly brooms and mops again…And I, I would wither inside that sad, dank, dark, misty, uncomfortable place, until I forgot the horrors of Tuesday, September the Eighth.”

“As I have said before, she is always barging in on me, so this was nothing special, though it was slightly embarrassing as I was singing along to some American bloke’s song called “Werewolves of London” that I was getting on WWN (Wizarding Wireless Network).  By the time she had entered, I was very into it and was on a particularly nice “Awooooooo!” with my head thrown back and arms spread out.  I may have been dancing as well (possibly Irish), but I prefer not to think about it. She, being her insufferable self, had to take a few minutes to get over that (laughing unprofessionally hard and occasionally banging her head against the wall) before she got to her point.            “Severus,” she said, as if we were on first name terms, “I am here to teach you the facts of life.””

“Before McGonagall could educate me on the finer points of reproduction, I stunned her, put her in a full body bind and tried to carry her to her office.  Unfortunately, her apparent frailness has no correlation with her weight.  I would say that 302 kilos is not a bad estimate.  As I passed through the halls, many students stared at me like they had nothing better to do except stand still all day staring at innocent professors carrying around their colleagues.”

““Oh no,” I said, “I have lost my…” for some reason avocado was the only word that could come to mind.  I thought very quickly and finished, “orange!  Oh dear.  I must find it.” I don’t pretend to have good acting skills, but I must say that I think I handled that very nicely, considering.  So then I left, looking for my orange, obviously, and then barricaded myself in the cupboard, never to come out again. To make matters worse, something soon began knocking and shuffling about outside the door. “Professor Snape-y!” someone said, in a horribly sweet, singsong voice “It’s time to come out now!  I have some cheese for you!” That is my life.”

ALL OF THESE ARE JUST FROM THE FIRST 3 CHAPTERS. THERE ARE 18 CHAPTERS IN TOTAL. I haven’t even gotten to the part where Snape went shoe shopping or where Minnie was doing a headstand while wearing a leotard.

Just believe me, this is quite possibly the best thing you will ever read. I despise Snape with my entire being and I ABSOLUTELY HATE fics written in 1st person and this is probably like one of my favourite things in the world. TRUST ME, READ IT YOU WON’T BE SORRY.

There is also a Sequel called Severely Severus, however it only has 2 chapters and is probably abandoned.

[emeraldbirdcollector]

Kingsley Shacklebolt backstory?

Someone else was postulating a bisexual Kingsley Shacklebolt, and it got me thinking. I’ve always assumed that he and Frank Longbottom were close friends, Gryffindor roommates, who looked at their four other roommates, the Marauders, looked at each other, and decided to go their own way and stay out of whatever these admittedly-charming but obviously crazy people were planning. Suppose, though, that Kingsley had also been in love with Frank all along, as well as being his best friend, but knew he never had a chance because Frank was straight. So he bit back his feelings, devoted himself more fiercely to his work and his life goals, stayed on the right side, stayed Frank’s friend. And knowing that it wasn’t as if Frank had chosen to be straight and fall for Alice over him, he treated Alice like a sister and learned to love her too even though it hurt, because she was good for Frank. Imagine Kingsley Shacklebolt standing best man at their wedding, being Neville’s godfather, looking down at the baby with Frank’s eyes and Alice’s quiet thoughtful gaze, and doting on him instantly. Imagine the Longbottoms going into hiding just as the Potters had - but Shacklebolt is their Secret Keeper, and nothing would ever move him to betray them, not in this world or the next. But it’s they who break the charm too soon, too soon, thinking they’re safe with Voldemort dead…

Imagine Kingsley Shacklebolt racing with a team of Aurors and a worried Augusta Longbottom, only to get there just in time to see his friends’ blank faces and mindless gazes, pushing his tears aside for later, rushing upstairs in a frantic search for his godson, praying with every breath that he wouldn’t find him dead or tortured or just…gone. Picture his strong arms pulling a terrified, traumatized Neville from the dark closet he’d been hiding from the Death Eaters in, pulling him to the light of safety, cradling the toddler against his shoulder and letting him cry out all his fear and distress there. 

Picture Augusta’s loss turning her paranoid and fearful, reinstating the Fidelius charm and keeping Neville isolated among family, away from the wizarding world. Deep down, her unconscious mind holds Shacklebolt responsible, however unfairly, for the family tragedy, because he was their Secret-Keeper, and thus he’s kept firmly on the outside of Neville’s life. Picture Shacklebolt conspiring with a sympathetic but eccentric Uncle Algie to get Neville presents and find out how he’s doing - it’s Shacklebolt who, finding out that Neville likes toads, searches Eeylops’s Owl Emporium up and down for the healthiest, most vigorous little toadlet he can find for Algie to give him, but also Shacklebolt who, hearing that Algie had dropped him out of a window to get him to show that magic, gives him the same “what were you THINKING?” lecture Algie’s already gotten twice from Augusta. 

Shacklebolt keeps a discreet eye on Neville during his school years, getting quiet reports from Dumbledore, McGonagall, and a sympathetic Sprout - and then gets a letter from his old roommate Remus Lupin, serving as DADA teacher, that makes him charge into Severus Snape’s office demanding an explanation at the top of his lungs. He doesn’t like the explanation he gets, that Snape is trying to prevent Neville from being recruited by Voldemort (”SERIOUSLY, Severus? You think he’d EVER be tempted by the Death Eaters, after what they did to his parents?”), but he’s forced to back off when Dumbledore steps in. He can’t dispute Dumbledore’s logic - “A boy who, at thirteen, can face his boggart every Potions class without once skipping class or trying to hide, will be a man who can face the Death Eaters down someday without flinching. And you know, Kingsley, that he will need to.” But he hates it. 

He hates it even more when he finds out what Barty Crouch, Jr. did to the child under the guise of his old friend Mad-Eye. He despises the Dementors with a passion and wants nothing to do with them, wants them out of the wizarding world entirely - but he can��t bring himself to be sorry when Crouch gets the Kiss.

And when he sees the young man for himself at the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, he has to hold back a sudden lump in his throat, because Neville is so very, very much his parents’ son. And his friends, too, are enough to make a grown man weep for what they’re facing -  boys and girls far too young to be heroes, far too young to fall even in a necessary war, far too brave, far too scarred and broken for the children they are. So Kingsley throws himself harder into the fight, for their sake, doing everything he can to support and sustain their courage and hopefully, save their lives. Even when he himself needs to go on the run, he keeps fighting, keeps planning, keeps resisting, to keep them alive, keep them whole, keep them from despair. For Frank’s son, for the children of his generation, Kingsley Shacklebolt would fight any battle, endure any danger, bring down Hell itself if he needs to. 

After the Battle of Hogwarts, he goes to St. Mungo’s, as he has regularly through the years (though always when he knows Augusta and Neville won’t be there), and tells Frank and Alice, through his tears, how very proud they would be of their boy, what a hero he is, true as the Sword of Gryffindor itself. Frank doesn’t respond - he never does, there’s not much left of who he was - but Alice, who retained a bit more of herself, presses his hand quietly and looks quizzically at him, as if she’s sure she knows his name but can’t quite remember. 

He recruits Neville after the war, along with his friends Harry and Ron, to serve as a new crack team of Aurors to rid the Ministry of corruption, and finds that all three are exceedingly capable trainees, and that their friend Hermione is smart enough to have his own job someday (he hopes she does, as he wouldn’t mind being able to retire and know he’s left things in good hands). 

But then there’s the day his young godson comes to him in obvious distress, having gotten an offer from Pomona Sprout to train him as her successor - his dream job, what he’s always wanted to do, but he’s so afraid he’ll let down his parents and his grandmother and his mentor by not following in their footsteps. It’s Kingsley Shacklebolt who looks the young man in the eye and tells him, “Your parents fought, like you, because they had to. If they knew there was a future for you doing what you loved, making things grow, teaching the kids - they’d be thrilled. They wanted a better future for you than constant fighting. They wanted you to have peace, and happiness, and no need to look over your shoulder constantly for threats. You’ve proven your courage over and over, Neville. Now, go help us prevent future wars. Go build a generation of wizards and witches who won’t need to fight, who can devote themselves to growth and life and love. That’s far better work for a young man like you. And son? Don’t feel guilty about being happy. That’s what they fought for. Your happiness makes that fight worthwhile.”

Maybe it’s a blessing, maybe a reward for years of faith and promises kept, but it’s at Neville’s wedding that he feels himself whole and unbroken again, at last, watching Neville’s face light with joy just as his father had when it was Alice instead of Hannah walking down the aisle towards him, Flutterby blossoms in her hair. 

And it’s at the reception later that he meets Nicholas Kowalski, second son of Queenie and Jacob - or rather, first overhears his beautiful, infectious laugh when Rita Skeeter asks him if he minds being the only Squib among his siblings. “They all got Mama’s magic, true, but I got Papa’s. Taste.” - and he handed Rita a pastry that shut her up for an entire half hour, except for moans of delicious ecstasy as she consumed every last crumb. Shacklebolt couldn’t resist going over to him and starting a conversation - which ended around 2 AM or so, or possibly, depending on how you interpret it, lasted until death did them part.