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irrelevancyy · 5 months

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NSFW a-z for Snape <3

A- Aftercare (What're they like after sex)

Extremely sappy. Just very emotional, very clingy. Refuses to leave you (if you two are in bed) no matter what after. He let's you go to the bathroom after tho. He waits. He stays in whatever position you two are in for a while before pulling away. Cuddles and kisses you a lot, especially if it's nighttime.

B- Body part (favorite Body parts on you and him)

On you, it's everything. He doesn't have a favorite. BUT the one thing he stares at a lot during sex is your lips, or your face in general.

On him, it's probably his hands (and nose when it comes to oral). He uses his hands all the time no matter what. Always holding onto you, touching you, and uses them during oral too. And he does use his nose to his advantage during oral.

C- Cvm (anything they do with it)

See now I don't know if birth control was a thing in this setting but let's pretend it is. If you're on it, he's cvmming inside. Everytime. If you're not on it, he usually finishes on your stomach or thigh. Barely uses a condom tbh.

D- Dirty secret

Doesn't have any secrets. Especially dirty ones. He tells you everything, no matter what.

E- Experience (how experienced are they)

Girl, before you, he didn't get any. Don't even. Love him tho.

F- Favorite position

Any where he can see your face. Except for doggie. And even then he makes you turn around to look at him. He likes eye contact. And the intimacy of it all. You two usually go for missionary tho. Or cowgirl. He's really close to you all the while too.

G- Goofy (how serious are they in the moment)

Obviously, he's very serious, very in the moment, with you. He cracks a smile or a smirk every now and then tho.

H- Hair (how well groomed are they)

He doesn't shave it clean but doesn't grow it out. It really depends to be honest. Sometimes he grows it out a bit and sometimes he almost shaves clean.

I- Intimacy (how romantic are they)

He's not the type to lay out rose petals and candles, but he's pretty romantic. Like I said before the eye contact, contact touching, and praise are always there. He always treats you like you're made of gold everytime. Before, during, AND after.

J- Jack off (do they jack off)

He doesn't jack off. Why invision it when he has the real thing? And if you don't feel like it that night, he'll wait days if he has to, to let lose.

K- Kink (their kinks)

Praise (receiving and giving), Head pushing (giving), slight breeding, being in control, spanking (giving), some bondage (giving), edging (receiving and giving) and overstimulation (receiving and giving)

L- Location (favorite places to do it at)

Anywhere in your own home. In the kitchen, bedroom, living room, anywhere as long as it's inside the house. He doesn't really like public stuff.

M- Motivation (what turns them on)

Literally everything. You bend over and he's gripping the damn table. You give him the greenlight and he's all over you bbg.

N- No (turn-offs they have)

Actually hurting you. Even if it turns you on, he doesn't want knife play, gun play, etc. Or degration. Waxplay he is okay with but it'll take a WHILE for him to warm up to it (jaja get it). He doesn't like public stuff. He wants it to be you and him, and being as loud as possible, in your own home.

O- Oral (preference of giving, recieving)

Prefers giving but loves receiving too. He does use his nose to his advantage here, grabbing your hips and making them move alone his mouth and nose. Loves when you ride his face too. He would die happy if you suffocated him with your pleasure.

As for receiving, he rarely even let's you. He focuses so much on you. But while you're sucking him off, he likes to push your head down, or thrust up into you.

P- Pace

Sometimes he's rough, sometimes he's slow. When he's slow he goes DEEP. You sweat you can feel it reach your lungs. Anyways. He's only rough when he's stressed or annoyed. He apologises after for maybe hurting you. But usually he's slow and deep.

Q- Quickies

Rarely says okay to quickies. If you're in public and you say you're in the mood, he'll make that an excuse and immediately go home with you. He doesn't like being outside. He only says okay to it if it's a special effect that he can't leave from and you're both feeling it.

R- Risks (do they take risks)

Not really. Again, he doesn't like public stuff. Or anything of the sort.

S- Stamina (how many rounds do they last for)

He can last HOURS if you wanted him to. He just watches your expressions. When you're done, he is. When you want more, he does too.

T- Toys (do they use/own toys)

He doesn't own any. And doesn't use any on you. He want you to enjoy him, and the experience alone, not just some peice of plastic.

U- Unfair (do they tease)

He does. A lot actually. Sometimes he does it intentionally, sometimes he doesn't. He might cvm first and stop moving to catch his breath and accidently edge you by that. But sometimes he might stop just as you're about to cvm, just to see your reaction.

V- Vocal (how loud are they)

He doesn't care. He is moaning and groaning in your ear. You're showing him you're loving it by moaning for him, he's gonna do the same thing back.

W- Wild card

Everytime you shower, he's there with you. Same with baths. It doesn't need to be sexual. He just wants to be near you, or have some skin to skin contact.

X- X-Ray (what's packin)

He's packed. A good 7-8 inches, and very thick too. Like when you hold it, you can't wrap your whole hand around it. And he knows how to use it.

Y- Yearning (what's their sex drive)

He literally never says no to you. Unless he is almost knocked out cold kind of tired, he's down to have sex.

Z- Zzz (how fast do they fall asleep after)

He waits for you to fall asleep and get comfortable first, then does to sleep.

Ohmeohmy <333

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irrelevancyy · 5 months

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If It Serves You.

(Headmaster!Severus Snape x Reader)

Cw: Non/Dubcon + Aftermath, Afab Reader, Dark-ish Snape, Unprotected Sex, Powerplay, Sex as Bargaining, Facefucking, Crying, Fingering, Creampie, Begging, Degradation (use of slut) and Praise, Reader calls Snape ‘Headmaster,’ Former Student Reader, Mentions of Torture/Child Abuse, Denial of Feelings.

READ WITH CAUTION

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: As a professor of Hogwarts, your past ambitions, your fragile hope and unrelenting diligence have all led to nothing. Now, you are powerless beneath the rising force of He Who Must Not Be Named and his army of Death Eaters. The only thing left you have to give is your pride; your weak and vulnerable body.

Or, you beg the new headmaster to show mercy to your students in exchange for sexual favours.

Dividers by @/saradika

Of course, there was no pressing need to check and recheck the potions’ storage. Certainly no need to catalogue it twice. You did almost it out of instinct, or force of habit. Yes, It’s healthy to maintain a routine, including routine inspections, just like- just like-

“Professor ___,” comes a gruff voice from behind. In your nervous state, you imagine it is a Carrow, and freeze in panic. “Why are you here?”

You whirl around. No. It’s Professor Slughorn.

“Oh,” you straighten your robes. “Horace. I was just taking inventory.”

“Were you? I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.” He says brusquely.

“Of course, of course you can.”

Your voice carries the same placid, appealing tone with which you’ve used to calm your pupils. You wince at the sound of it. Then, his expression loosens. Not immediately, but little by little, settling into the creases and wrinkles of stress and age. His walrus moustache droops into a familiar frown.

“I’m… I’m very sorry, ___,” he says. “Whenever I leave my storage unattended for too long, I take this terrible notion that some very bright and brilliant student is going to brew a polyjuice potion. Heh.”

His laughter rings rather hollow.

“Yes, those were my thoughts exactly,” you concede, heaving a sigh. “It would be so simple. Not for all of them, but some of our best could do it. And then they would make a reckless attempt at escaping, or even try to impersonate one of those Death…”

You stop yourself, and peer carefully into his face.

You’ve noticed how Horace has visibly deflated, how he has lost his colour over the past few months. How could you not? You would never accuse the Slug of being slovenly, but you’re well aware that beneath all the powder his eye-bags are as sunken as yours.

“It is unfortunate that one of my… One of our best…” It seems that he cannot finish his sentence. Nonetheless, you know who she is.

“It’s a very unfortunate thing,” Professor Slughorn mutters idly. “Very unfortunate…”

He’s fiddling with a ring on one liver-spotted finger. His lips purse periodically, as if a throb in his temple is threatening to burst.

“Horace, It’ll all be alright,” you try to reassure him, knowing you cannot guarantee this.

The only response you receive is a distant nod. He does not stop fussing over his ring. Then, he turns abruptly stony again:

“Well, then,” he says. “You’d best be on your way.”

He dismisses you as curtly as he would a student, but you don’t protest. You know that when you leave, he will pacify his anxiety with a sleeping draught.

As you exit the dungeon and traverse the silent halls, the early winter chill rattles straight through your bones. It seems that Hogwarts grows colder each passing day; colder and emptier. Even when teaching, your classroom is as quiet as death.

Alchemy has never been a popular elective, and now you are down to very few students. Some had also disappeared completely over the Summer, mostly those without Pureblood status or families to support them… You try not to ponder too deeply on it. For their sake - and perhaps also for your own - you keep it together.

Yes. You must stay stubborn and strong. Especially considering what you are about to do now.

You shiver in your thin robes outside of the Headmaster’s office. The griffin sentinel glares haughtily down at you, and for a second you fancy it alive, judging you guilty for some crime. Thinking this, You glance this way and that, wary of onlookers.

But all of the students are asleep; or at least, they should be. Most of your coworkers have also retired for the evening. You here stand alone.

You take a deep, shuddering breath.

“Sugar Quill.” Your voice echoes eerily.

The griffin does not budge. The new headmaster has changed the password, of course. You suspected as much, but it was still worth attempting.

“Amortentia,” you try next. No response.

You shift, acutely aware of how ridiculous you must appear; a Hogwarts professor stumped by a statue.

“Polyjuice. Veritaserum. Bezoar… Asphodel.”

Nothing.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” you huff, already spiked with tight, uneasy tension. “It was so much easier when Dumbledore…”

A low, heavy rumble breaks your train of thought as the spiral staircase emerges. You quickly mount it and climb upwards, boots clattering on the rising stone. It gives way to a large study lined with bookshelves.

You’ve made it into Dumbledore’s office.

Except it is no longer his. You must remind yourself of this fact often, and each time it stings, like a tiny pricking thorn ingrown into the heart. The study is far draughtier than you remember; devoid and bereft in the absence of Fawkes.

No, Albus is not here. Instead, what scowls over at you from behind the Headmaster’s desk is the unmistakable face of Severus Snape, and he does not appear pleased to see you.

“Kindly inform me why you are in my office.” His voice is slow and measured, but you can sense the venom lurking underneath.

“I don’t remember ever giving you the password,” he continues, alighting from his chair. “Or have you picked up that nasty eavesdropping habit from one of our pupils?”

He spat that last word as if it was a curse.

“No, Severus,” you say quickly. “I guessed it.”

Severus. Or Professor Snape. But now…

You think you catch him pale ever-so-slightly, or perhaps that is the dim lighting of the room, casting dark, creeping shadows across the floor. While there has never been a cordiality or warmth to your relationship, you recognise that you have been spared the worst of his barbed hostility.

Before now, that is; now, the distance between you is far too great.

“Did you now?” He sneers.

In response, you draw up, mindful not to appear challenging as you tip your chin.

“I’m here because I have a proposition for you,” you announce clearly. “I hoped you would be reasonable and hear me out.”

Snape’s eyes narrow icily and suddenly you are in his Potions class again, overseen with strict authority. One wrong move, and the concoction will spoil and poison you. His black robes billow as he approaches, expanding like the hood of a cobra.

“There is nothing you could possibly offer me,” he says, folding one shrouded arm over another. “And so there is nothing to discuss. Leave.”

Your nerves are strung so tight, you can’t help but object: “The Carrows are far too cruel in their methods! Too brutal. The students-”

“Are very fortunate to have been granted mercy by the Dark Lord,” Snape interrupts, and you swallow thickly. Of course, you could not have forgotten the festering dark mark that now itches underneath his robes, writhing and serpentine.

“But it isn’t enough,” you say, throat sandpaper dry. A rush of urgency floods your system. Now. It needs to be now, before you lose your courage.

(A gash on the cheek, a row of dark-purplish bruises and welts, a swollen eye, whippings and burns, scars from chains, all so frightened, but brave still.)

“If you agree to grant my students your protection,” your voice falters. “I will give… Myself to you.”

The silence that follows is agonising. His expression is indecipherable; taut and stiff. You’re beginning to think that maybe you weren’t transparent enough.

Your trembling hands drift towards your top buttons, and you start to undo them bit by bit.

“Stop,” Snape orders.

At this, you freeze. Your heart plummets starkly into your intestines. Oh. You hadn’t even considered that he would - or could - reject your offer. You fear you may have tipped the bubbling cauldron over and left it melting through the carpet. As you linger numbly, Snape’s tongue darts between his lips. Light flashes behind his stern black eyes.

Perhaps he’s considering it, perhaps…

“Come here,” he says sharply. You obey.

Shuddering in the winter chill, you watch the slow bob of his Adam’s apple, the twitch of his lids as his gaze dips steadily downward… Snape’s forefinger comes to brush the fabric from your shoulder, his knuckle grazing your collarbone, and your pulse quickens anew.

“I’ll do anything,” you plead. “Please, Severus.”

“You will refer to me as ‘Headmaster,’” he corrects.

“Headmaster…”

You suck in a shaky breath. Standing this close to him, you can make out the lilac rims of his sunken eyes and the worry lines on his forehead.

He’s tired… The thought springs to mind, unbidden.

The hand that tends to the rest of your buttons is not rough, but the coldness of his touch makes you flinch. Snape pulls down your outer robes in one swift motion, and you can’t help but gasp. Your nipples perk from the chill, skin prickled with goosebumps. Underwear was unnecessary, and though you knew that from the start, you are stripped so quickly it still leaves you cringing. He moves to fondle your breasts, and your breathing shallows. You stare desperately towards the floor, towards some old, faded tea stain.

“Fall on your knees, ___,” he tells you.

You kneel quickly in front of him, and he moves to cup the nape of your neck. You don’t need to be instructed; you do your best to steady your hands and unfasten the button over his crotch. You nudge out his dick, and see that he’s already half-hard.

Before he changes his mind, you spit into your palm and use it as lubricant as you get to work jerking him off. You can feel him watching you, silent and still. This situation is completely wrong, all wrong, but the awkwardness of it is almost juvenile.

“___,” he calls above you. You stiffen. You know that cautionary tone. “If you have enough cheek to wag your tongue at me, you can also use it for this.”

You nod faintly, licking your lips. Of course, you should have prepared for this, too, but you have barely even steeled your nerves. Hesitant, you lean forward and run your tongue along the shaft, tracing a vein. Your movements are practically mechanical; dispensing small, kitten licks over the tip, continuing to stroke him. This is now a kind of out-of-body experience for you, the sort of bizarre circumstance you can only encounter in a very strange dream.

But then, Snape decides your next course of action for you, clutching your jaw and muffling your whimpers as he sinks into your mouth.

A teardrop falls softly onto your chest, and it only occurs to you now that you’re crying. You gag out a sob as the tip of Snape’s cock hits the back of your throat, unable to prevent loose spit from dribbling down your chin. Above you, his breath hitches.

“Open your eyes,” he demands.

You didn’t know you had closed them; squeezed them tightly shut. You peek up at his pale face.

His pupils are blown wide, almost entirely black. Snape forbids you to keep eye-contact with a firm grip over your head, and you gag again as he rocks his hips. You clutch his thighs for purchase while he fucks your face, tears streaming down your cheeks. For distraction, you try to focus on him, and his pleasure-stricken expression lulls you in like hypnosis; the tightness of his lips, his dark brows slightly furrowed, the minute twitches in his jaw.

Snape’s thrusts begin to stutter, but he tightens his hold on you and forces you to take all of him. He drags in a sharp intake of breath, and warm, slightly bitter cum pools onto your tongue.

“Swallow it. All of it.”

You gasp for air, gulping it down hastily.

“You'll be getting used to the taste of me. Stand.”

Snape urges you up and steers you over to his table. Before you can blink, you’re whirled around and caged against his desk. The edge of it cuts harshly into your naked thighs, and you yelp. You can feel his long black hair sweep over your neck, a sensation that is almost ticklish. Snape yanks down your robes and they fall limply around your boots. Now, you are truly exposed, shivering and naked. The only source of warmth is his body heat pressed into your back, the starched, dark fabric of his clothing.

His cool hand dips around and feels down your stomach, and your breath hitches as Snape unexpectedly plunges several fingers into your pussy. You shock yourself with how slick you are, mortified at the way he tsks behind you:

“Little slut. Is this what you’ve always wanted?” Snape hisses into your ear, spreading the pads of his fingertips over your labia, teasing your clit.

“Yes!” You choke out.

“Yes, Headmaster,” he pinches your clit warningly and it feels like an electric shock.

“Yes, yes Headmast- ah…!”

He starts to rub in rough, merciless circles, and you immediately try to stifle a cry against your wrist. Snape rips it impatiently from you.

“Don’t even try to deny it. I can feel how wet you are.”

It’s surely not the truth. Surely, you tell yourself...

One long, deft forefinger slips into your slit and pumps steadily in and out. You let out a soft moan, unable to resist the quivering thrill that coils in your abdomen. You didn’t realise he would even try to prep you, and, against your will, you feel some of your fear dissipate.

“You think I didn’t notice, did you?” He scoffs. “Always so desperate for my attention, always clamouring for a better grade.”

Memories of your seventh year at Hogwarts resurface and spiral dizzily in your head. The newest, youngest professor, but strict and competent, and—

Dark, sweeping cloak, black hair, black eyes…

I even once wished I could brush away the strands…

Then he retracts his fingers, slowly, torturously, You hate how you yearn for his touch in its absence, how you crave the buzz to smother your discomfort.

Snape bends you cleanly over the polished table, your still damp breasts pressing into the hardwood. He traces a long, thin finger down your back, tracing languidly across your spine; you could almost believe his touch is tender. Almost. Instinctively, you try to turn your head to face him, but he denies you with a firm hand gripping the base of your neck. You whimper as he lathers cold precum on your thighs, positioning his straining dick over your entrance:

“…Or was it praise you were hoping for?” His voice is low and subdued. Snape’s breath fans over you, and for a moment you falter.

No, of course you don’t expect—

No, not from Professor Snape. Only your best was acceptable. To elicit a nod of approval, or even a commending glance, you couldn’t possibly hope—

“Headmaster, I— I only ever wanted you to…”

“Beg for it,” his tone sharpens again.

Snape slips the tip of his cock inside your folds. But then, he stops, and does not move. You are trapped between his desk and him, left pitiful and squirming.

“Headmaster,” you say weakly. “Please.”

“Please what, ___?”

You grit your teeth, still bristling at the indignity of it all. But you know that, whether he’s enjoying himself or not, Snape has the patience to wait this out.

“Please, fuck me!” you plead.

You gasp as he grips your thighs and slides himself in further with a lewd, wet sound. Your walls stretch around him as you adjust to his length. He groans softly and rolls his hips, sinking deeper into your cunt, until you’re utterly full of him.

Despite it all, it feels sinfully good, but his movements are so sluggish that you can’t help but whine pathetically into the wooden table.

“And what exactly is it that you’ve always wanted?”

What I always wanted, when I was in Potions class…

“For you to p-praise me, Headmaster.”

In an instant, you realise this is true. Deep down, you have always hoped for his sole attention… And now he’s invading that dark, primordial world in between, spurring on those secret and forbidden desires you should never have conceived.

Snape slowly pulls out, dragging every inch of his cock, and then snaps his hips back in, briefly hitting that sweet, sensitive spot that has you seeing stars.

“Please!” You add, letting out a shrill moan.

“And do you? Do you want this…?”

He mutters so quietly, it almost sounds like he’s begging you. Snape’s pace is set now, rocking powerfully into you as you fill the air with loud, desperate whimpers.

“I do!” You breathe, mind-numbingly uncertain.

But it doesn’t matter anymore if you want it or not; the sensation is so overbearing and so ruthless, unforgiving and unfair, just like him. You’re barely cognizant of the arms that curl around your naked waist, almost embracing you, until they provide cushioning against the sharp desk.

“You take me so well,” he murmurs, “So well.”

Your head spins, threatening to give up on you completely. You could never have predicted such a drastic change in demeanour. The way he’s treating you now is so different from his earlier cruelty; his affectionate caresses might be almost loving.

“So tight, so good for me…” He groans again, heavily, and the vibrations thrill up your spine as he spears you on his dick. “You’re doing perfectly.”

He kneads the soft flesh of your thighs, sighing blissfully. You can feel the spiking thrum of Snape’s heartbeat, the soft touch of his lips on your neck, kissing reverently over your shoulder blade. You wish you could just see the expression on his face, if you could only see Severus for one moment…

“Headmaster,” you pant, craning your head.

“Don’t,” he says hurriedly. “Don’t look at me.”

Snape doesn’t relent, forcing you firmly in place with a hard squeeze on your shoulder. There’s something thick and vulnerable in his voice that you can’t place, but all you can respond with is a needy cry as he speeds up, angling his thrusts just right. You can feel the familiar shock of pleasure coiling up in your belly now, surging from how deep he reaches.

“I’m the only one who can fuck you like this, aren’t I?” He snaps without warning, bursting with emotion again. You can only nod frantically in response.

“Yes, yes, Headmaster!” You sob, your eyes stinging with tears again.

Snape’s movements only grow stronger, his breathing heavier and huskier. His fingernails are digging small, half-moon indents into your skin. You don’t try to stifle the wanton moans that spill from your lips anymore, clawing for purchase at the wood.

“___… When you cum, you cum for me.”

Uncontrollably, you arch into the table. Your leg is cramping up from the exertion, muscles pulled taut, and you’re going to, you’re going to—

Your orgasm drowns the rest of your thoughts in static, white, hot bliss that smothers you. Snape shudders and moans as he buries himself to the hilt, pumping you full of his seed. His black cloak sweeps over you as he pulls out, far too soon, leaving you quivering and dripping with his cum.

The last, mangled strands of lucidity swim hazily in your mind. It takes a moment for you to remember why you were here at all.

After a few seconds, he releases you from the confines of his desk without a word. You bend down and hoist the ring of fabric up past your hips again, though your skin is sticky and damp. After a deep, shaky breath, you dare to glance at Snape.

There’s a thin sheet of sweat beading his forehead. Snape helps you pull your robes over your shoulders. He silently fastens your buttons back up again for you, and his touch is surprisingly gentle. You don’t rebuff him. Your hands are trembling enough as it is.

“Promise me that you’ll…” You halt.

Your vision is still blurry, but you could swear he looks like the old Severus. Not the figurehead or the professor, but the man. The Severus you once knew.

There’s a strange look in his eyes that you don’t understand, and maybe you never will.

You’re so dead tired you can barely drag your feet back to the staff’s living quarters. You wake Minerva— or, no, she is already occupied by her usual routine of restless pacing, tugging at her tartan dressing-gown. While she does interrogate you a bit crossly, you can tell she empathises with your ‘insomnia.’

After that you gulp down a contraceptive and stumble into bed, boneless and weary. You don’t cry at all, though you feel that you probably should.

In a way, you’re glad that Minerva doesn’t appear concerned or worried for you. That means she hasn’t found out. There was a persistent paranoia in the back of your mind that she had, that Minerva had seen or heard or sensed it somehow.

You wonder if she’d feel disgusted, or if she would simply pity you. Maybe that would be worse.

You flick your wand and flush out the light.

No. No one needs to know what you’ve done.

A month passes. The grip of winter releases its hold, and spring emerges in its wake, fresh and pure. It’s as if you can finally breathe again.

You hope that you do not imagine the way your student’s faces regain some semblance of warmth. You hope you do not imagine the unmarred bodies, mercifully free from wounds. You also hope that it is not their own schemes or plans that embolden them.

They should leave those matters to you.

Somehow, it feels like the nightmare is almost over. But not yet. Not yet. You still await your orders, and nurse lofty dreams of freedom in your heart.

When night falls, you strip off your underclothes and climb the spiral staircase once more. It is not excitement that tightens your chest, but it is also not dread. Perhaps something else you also do not understand, and cannot afford to think of now.

Headmaster Snape is standing by his desk. You realise he’s been waiting for you. He has that strange, mystifying look in his eyes again.

He offers you a hand.

“Come here,” he says.

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irrelevancyy · 6 months

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yes i bought it

#harry potter #severus snape #severus x reader #severus x you #severus #severus x y/n #severus art #severus x hermione #severus x lily #harry potter game #harry potter magic awakened

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irrelevancyy · 6 months

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check out never whole on soundcloud now! coming to spotify soon!! 🖤

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irrelevancyy · 7 months

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Me & The Devil - Chapter 1

(Severus Snape X Female Reader)

'Me & The Devil' Masterlist

Description: You're a naturally gifted Legilimens, leading to Dumbledore recruiting you to join the faculty at Hogwarts in order to help protect Harry Potter and defend Hogwarts, before eventually recruiting you into The Order of The Phoenix.

However the longer you spend at Hogwarts, the more your feelings for the cold brooding potions master grow, despite your attempt to push them aside.

Notice: Some events in the story play out differently in this fic due to you being at Hogwarts and you being a Legilimens and there's a 7 year age gap between you and Snape. Also this series is going to be partially based off of the books and partially based off of the films

Word Count: 4,320

Warnings: Age gap

This Chapters Song/s:

Hate Myself - Dodie

FanFic Playlist

Gif is not mine

You stood in the headmasters office, the autumn sun streaming through the windows.

Besides Severus Snape, you had also discovered- upon first meeting the head master of Hogwarts, that you weren’t able to peer into the mind of Albus Dumbledore either. Because of this, you couldn’t help but feel that same sense of vulnerability you had when first meeting Snape. Defenceless. You’re tools not working. Like a blacksmith with no fire, or like a knight running into battle with a sword but no armour or shield.

“You seem nervous”, Dumbledore's voice pulls you from your thoughts. It's starting to feel as though that’s all people here see you as; a ball of nervousness. It made you feel like a liability rather than someone of help.

“Forgive me, Professor”, you say, attempting to shake off your uneasy aura.

“You needn’t worry. No one else here can read my mind. Rest assured, if I disliked you, you’d know”.

“I feel it’s slightly unfair that you can defend yourself so easily against my abilities, yet you can read my mind so easily”, you laugh at the irony, shaking your head slightly at your predicament.

“I’m not reading your mind. Once you’ve worked in my field for as long as I have, reading people becomes easy. Even without the art of Ligilimency”, Dumbledore chuckled and gestures for you to take the seat opposite him at his desk, to which you comply. “You shouldn’t have to rely on it to make others like you. You can be yourself here”, he reassured you before offering you a bowl of sunny yellow hardboiled sweets. “Sherbet Lemon?”, he offered. You smiled sheepishly and took one from the bowl before placing it in your mouth.

“So, regarding Professor Lupin...”, Dumbledore began. “You’ve spent a lot of time around him these past few weeks. What’s your verdict”.

“He is not working with Sirius Black”, you state clearly. “He is still grieving the loss of his friends and he fears for Harry’s well being. He sees so much of James in him. If he were working with him, he would have slipped up by now”.

Dumbledore gave a single nod before asking, “And what of the other staff?”.

“Nothing to note. The only one I can’t speak for would be Severus. He won’t let his guard down for a second”.

“I’m not concerned with Severus. I trust him. Yet, it wouldn’t hurt if you were to gain his trust”, he hummed, allowing himself to mull over his thoughts. “Yes, I think that would be best. Given his talent for Occlumency and your natural Legilimency gift, as well as him being the Potions Master here at Hogwarts and yourself becoming a teacher of Herbology, the two of you shall be working very closely, I can assure you”.

“Of course. I’ll see what I can do”, is all you said in response, an uncomfortable knot forming in your stomach at the idea of spending so much time with someone you could not read at all.

“I’ll also request he helps you with Occlumency since with the amount of information you’ll be trusted with, we should have you prepared to defend yourself if needed”.

You swallowed thickly at the mention of this but agreed nonetheless.

After your first report to Dumbledore, that same night, Snape had approached you after dinner. He pulled you aside as you left the hall, leading you roughly by the arm out of site from the students and other faculty members. You jolted in surprise, initially digging your heels into the ground to prevent you from moving, before realising it was Snape who had your upper arm in a vice like grip.

“For the love of Merlin! You know if you want to talk to a woman, you don’t manhandle her into a quiet corridor”, you grumble as you straightened out your robes, wincing at the residual pain from where Severus had clamped on to your arm. “It makes you seem like some deranged nutcase”.

“Do forgive me. I had no idea you were so sensitive”, he states bluntly, a snarl curling onto his lips as he glanced down at where you nursed your now sore arm, not sounding apologetic in the slightest.

“And I had no idea you were so rough”, you frown, glaring into his deep, dark eyes. You’re about to speak, but Snape beats you to it.

“Professor Dumbledore has asked that I assist you in developing your Occlumency skills”, he drawls before quirking an eyebrow. “I must say, I’m surprised someone so skilled in Legilimency struggles with basic Occlumency”.

“I don’t struggle with the basics”, you snap back, Snape folding his arms in front of himself as he glares down at you. Having him stand within a step of you makes the height difference between the both of you feel much greater, having to crane your head up slightly to meet his cold gaze. “No one taught me... Everyone assumes I’m also naturally gifted with Occlumency too. Not to mention I’ve never had a reason to defend myself against such magic until now”.

Snape tilts his head just a fraction as he watched you, face not changing in the slightest. You wish you could tell what he was thinking. “We begin this weekend. Saturday and Sunday afternoons. We shall continue to meet until I can no longer penetrate that dull mind of yours”, and with that Snape leaves, leaving you with your mouth slightly agape once again, not having expected the added insult. Your temporary shock is then converted into a rage that bubbles under your skin and you storm off to your chamber, hating yourself for not saying anything in response before Snape had stormed away.

A few days later, you and Lupin had been lounging in the staff room, huddled close to the fire place as the weather had suddenly grown much colder.

“Severus has never been good at talking to pretty women... or women in general for that matter”, Remus teased as you ran your hand gently over the bruise that had formed from where Snape had grabbed you.

You shoved the scruffy man playfully, but added with a more serious note, “Don’t say that”. You would agree that Snape wasn’t the best, however you believed that didn’t give Remus the right to tease him.

“You shouldn’t defend him so much, you know”, Remus scoffed.

“I’m not defending him. I just don’t agree with bullying others”, you rolled your eyes playfully.

“I that’s hardly fair when he is the one bullying his students on a daily basis”, Remus shot back.

“I know. I don’t necessarily agree with his teaching methods”, you shook your head. “I know he gives that boy- Neville Longbottom- a hard time. The poor thing”, you frown.

“Yes, he’s had a serious effect on Neville. So much so that his boggart takes the form of Professor Snape”. Your eyes widened at this news. “I must say though, Neville’s use of ‘Riddikulus’ was very amusing to say the least”, he chuckled as he leaned back against the sofa and you allowed yourself to peer into his memory as he recalled it.

Snape strode out of the wardrobe, sauntering his way over to Longbottom, a malicious glint in those deep dark eyes. Neville was trembling on the spot, making your heart ache for the boy, wanting to reach out and comfort him more than anything.

Remus called out for Neville to prepare himself and a moment later Neville cast his spell...

“Riddikulus!”

Snape’s regular black robes were replaced by an emerald green skirt and matching blazer, red handbag and an eyesore of a hat with a vulture perched atop it. The class erupted into laughter and an amazed smile flickered across Neville's face before he begins laughing along with his classmates.

You found yourself giggling along with Remus at the memory. “It sounds like your lesson was interesting to say the least”, you mused. “I remember the first time I fought a boggart at school”, you began. “It had taken the form of a giant void that slowly grew in size, gradually swallowing up the classroom... the fear of the unknown”, you explained, casting a glance to Remus who seemed fascinated by your tale. “I then used ‘Riddikulus’ to turn it into the night sky, full of stars and fireworks. I didn’t pass since my result wasn’t humour, but oh well”, you laughed off your memory.

‘I bet it looked wonderful’.

A comfortable silence settled over the pair of you as you listened to the fire crackle and roar.

“I can’t believe he’s been spotted near the castle”, you suddenly said, a frown swarming your features. “He really is trying to get to the Potter boy... isn’t he?”.

Lupin looked over your worried features before patting a reassuring hand against yours, much like Minerva had on your first day. “Seems that way doesn’t it”, he nodded. “We have to be on our guard. If Sirius Black was able to escape from Azkaban, who knows what else he’s capable of”, Remus muttered bitterly, before releasing a tense sigh. “But I’m sure everything will be fine. Hogwarts is the safest place I know”.

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh of disbelief as you watched the flames dance around the fireplace. “After hearing what occurred here the past two years?... I wouldn’t be so sure of that”.

The Friday before your first Occlumency session with Snape , you were teaching your third year class, with Professor Sprout observing the lesson.

You seemed to get along with the majority of the students. Many liked the fact that you had no bias towards any of the four houses since you didn’t belong to one. Many others felt as though they could relate to you more due to you being younger than their other professors. It seemed to make you more relatable and more approachable in their minds.

You had a pot of Niffler’s Fancy on the table, discussing it’s properties and uses, as well as explaining to your class how it’s leaves are known to be used as a form of primitive currency.

“Now, do any of you have an inkling as to why this plant is named ‘Niffler’s Fancy’?”, you ask the class, a few hands shooting up. You noticed one boy raise his arm a little slower than the others, uncertainty written all over his features, but he was trying and you wanted to give him the chance.

‘It’s because nifflers are attracted to shiny and valuable objects and their leaves are like copper’, you could hear his thoughts.

“Yes, Mr Longbottom?”, you called on him.

“Is it because of its leaves?”, he asked more than answered your question.

“You’re certainly on the right track. Can you elaborate why it’s leaves may give it its name?”, you pushed, wanting him to answer correctly. A few other hands shot up to answer around him, but you disregarded them, wanting to give Neville the confidence boost he so desperately needed.

“Is it because nifflers are attracted to valuable objects like gold, silver, bronze, diamonds, and it’s leaves are bronze”, he began to trail off, once again sounding unsure of himself.

“Yes! Exactly, well done Mr Longbottom!”, you praised him, earning a bashful grin from the boy.

As you walked past him later in the lesson, you quietly said to him, “Have more confidence in yourself Neville. You’re smarter than you think”, to which he nodded timidly in response.

The remainder of the lesson ran smoothly. Students taking notes and you answering any questions they had before you then set a short piece of homework to do some further research into what Niffler’s Fancy could possibly be used for.

“What a splendid lesson! Well done!”, Professor Sprout cheered as the students spilled out of the room, heading back towards the castle.

“Thank you, Pomona”, you said gleefully, pride swelling in your chest as you cleared up the classroom. “The third years are my favourite year group to teach. They’re all so wonderful”, you gushed.

“Yes, they are quite a talented bunch”, Pomona agreed, helping you to clear the last few bits. “Since you’ve got a free period, would you mind running a few ingredients down to Severus in the dungeons”. You cringed at the thought, not wanting to have to interact with the berating potions master unless absolutely necessary. Pomona must have noticed your reaction as she then said, “Come on, stay professional. He’s not that bad”. She quickly made her way to her stock cupboard and pulled out a few jars of various ingredients; mandrake root, wormwood and wolfsbane were a few you recognised. “The sooner you take these to him, the sooner you can leave and carry on about your day”.

“You’re right”, you exhale, running a hand through your hair. She made a strong point. This was part of your job. You had to remain professional.

Pomona places the jars in your arms and before you know it, you’re sent on your way to the dungeons.

It was cold down in the depths of the castle and a damp smell lingered in the air. You couldn’t help but wonder how the Slytherin students could stand having their common room down here. You walked along the dark hallways, searching for the correct class room, following the faint sound of bubbling cauldrons. Eventually you found the man you were looking for.

You peered through the doorway to the class, spotting Severus looming over his students, circling around them like a vulture. He was watching their every move, like he was waiting for one of them to make a mistake, or perhaps in attempts to prevent one from happening. Once again, you couldn’t tell. The man was unreadable.

Surprisingly, it was a handful of the students in the class who noticed your presence first as you stood in the doorway. The others remained focused on their work. Their minds either thinking about how much they disliked the lesson they were currently in, how much they disliked Snape, or how they were riddled with stress and anxiety about ruining their concoction.

Once Snape had noticed eyes lingering on the doorway to his classroom instead of their cauldrons, his eyes snapped to you. Eyes narrowing in your direction.

“I have some ingredients for you, Professor Snape”, you said simply, gesturing to the multiple jars in your arms.

Snape stormed towards you, and you decided to meet him half way. “Would you mind not distracting my students from their studies the next time you deliver ingredients to me”, he grumbled, taking three jars from you.

‘He’s so rude-‘, ‘I can’t believe he said that-‘, ‘but she’s so nice-‘.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes in disbelief as you followed Severus to one of the many shelves lining the class. “I am in no way trying to distract your pupils, Severus. Although if you do have an issue with my presence in your classroom, perhaps next time you need your potions ingredients you should retrieve them yourself”, you shot back, earning a deathly glare from the potions master in return as he snatched the remaining jars from your grasp. But he didn’t say anything, no harsh retort. It was probably because he knew you had a point.

‘It’s like watching an angel and a demon trying to have a conversation, or like an overgrown bat and a princess’.

You were unsure which one of the students it had been to think this, but you had to bite your lip harshly, a giggle threatening to bubble up your throat and fill the silent classroom. Snape quirked a brow at you’re sudden amusement and asked, “Amused are we?”.

“No, no, no, Severus”, you attempted to silence the laugh that was tickling the back of your throat.

There was a moment of silence as he glanced over your features, before he uttered, “get out of my classroom”. Though his words held no hostility, they did carry a strong unamused tone.

As you left, you muttered under your breath, “A simple thank you would have been nice”, rounding the corner and disappearing out of site from the potions master, happy to be leaving the dank dungeons.

But you would be back there.

Less than twenty-four hours later.

You sat on a stool in Snape’s classroom on the chilly Saturday afternoon, Severus paced in front of you with folded arms, his gaze once again so intense it made you want to curl in on yourself. You hated it. You hated yourself for allowing him to make you feel that way. You felt like he was peering into your very soul, and your ‘lesson’ hadn’t even started yet.

“I shall attempt to penetrate your mind. And you shall attempt to stop me”, he instructed sharply and clearly, making you feel as though you were back at school again. “We shall start with the basics and build up your resistance from there”.

You couldn’t deny the tension that hung in the air, it feeling so thick that it was almost suffocating.

“Okay”, you say, preparing yourself.

Occlumency was easy in theory, yet putting it to practice was a completely different matter.

Snape came to a stop in front of you as he pulled his wand from the inner pocket of his robes and pointed it in your direction. You felt your throat go dry and your pulse rise. For the first time since you had entered his classroom, the two of you locked eyes.

You felt like a deer in headlights.

Like a lamb come face to face with a wolf.

Like standing on the edge of a precipice before the fall...

“Legilimens”

Snape felt everything. Your fear and anxiety. The chill against your skin from the colds of the dungeon. How his eyes on you made you feel as though you were made of glass and he was staring straight through you.

You attempted to go numb. Letting go of everything. Pretending that none of those feelings existed. Embracing the cold and allowing yourself to take a breath... Relax.

Snape finally withdrew.

You took a moment to compose yourself, feeling a little self conscious and embarrassed.

Severus’ gaze flickered from you to the floor then back to you, his features expressionless.

You both remained silent until he finally spoke. “You were too slow to respond. You have to be quicker. You must shut off everything immediately”.

“I know”, you sighed, wrapping your arms around yourself, more for comfort than warmth.

“Again”, Snape ordered before once again casting his spell.

“Legilimens”

He felt the twinge of embarrassment you now felt, the chill of your skin, before you managed to shut him out.

“Quicker!”, he snapped, making you feel like a child being scolded by their teacher and causing a searing anger to begin simmering within you.

Once again, Snape invaded your mind.

“Growing a little frustrated are we?”, he taunted but you chose to ignore his comment, instead focusing on pushing your emotions down, burying them deep within you.

You focused on your heart rate and took a deep breath in, allowing your mind to go empty. You closed your eyes and pictured nothing, letting the empty blackness consume your vision. Slowly you released your breath, feeling your heart beat beneath your chest at a steady pace.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

As you slowly opened your eyes, your line of sight instantly connected with Severus’ once more. You wondered what lay beneath the dark depths of his eyes. You had to admit, despite his awful personality, you found Snape fascinating.

“Legilimens”

This time, there was nothing. You were like a void. An abyss. He couldn’t feel anything as you sat, staring at him, your defences unwavering. The only thing he could feel was the cold dungeon air against your skin.

Eventually, Snape’s posture relaxed, lowering his wand as the tension seemed to leave his shoulders. “It seems as though you can manage the basics”, he drawled, glowering down at you.

“I did tell you, I don’t struggle with the basics. I just haven’t had much practice”, you challenged him, his face unchanging. More silence followed. It seemed as though that’s all your conversations were when Snape wasn’t trying to insult you. Silence.

“Is this why you’re always so stoic?”, the question had slipped past your lips before you truly contemplated what you were asking. “Are you always making use of your Occlumency skills; completely shutting yourself off from your emotions to prevent anyone from peering into how you’re truly feeling or what you’re thinking?”, you asked, trying to quench that curiosity that brewed away in your mind as to who this man truly was; why he acted the way he did; what he thought. However, you knew you had made a mistake when Snape chose not to respond.

“I can’t say I blame you”, you added awkwardly, trying to relieve the tension. “I’m aware of what people think of me and my abilities without having to read their minds. People hate it, so I understand why you’d constantly defend yourself from me. Also I’m sure you have other reasons for using Occlumency- ...”, you added with an awkward laugh, yet he still didn’t respond. “I’m sorry, Severus”.

“Stop your rambling”, he spat back.

There was another pause before Snape unfastened his cloak, slowly stalking towards you. You felt your heart beat quicken as apprehension clenched at your stomach, fearing what he would do next, shivering in your seat slightly. With a flourish, his cloak encompassed your being, settling on your shoulders comfortably, shielding you from the cold of the dungeon and providing you with some extra warmth, Severus’ body heat still lingering in the fibres. You watched him, wide eyed and speechless at his action, feeling as though all the wind had been knocked out of your lungs.

“Don’t look at me like that”, he growled as he fastened the clasp around your neck. “It’ll be more difficult for you to focus if you’re as cold as a corpse”, he huffed before standing, and returning to his previous place.

“Thank you, Severus”, you say softly in no more than a whisper, like this small act of kindness was a secret to be kept between the two of you.

You wrapped the cloak around you a little more. You assumed it would have a distinct scent; potions ingredients or damp like the dungeons. But it didn’t smell of anything, in the same sense that whenever you arrived home, it smelt like home. Nothing else. The cloak just smelt of him. “Won’t you be cold?”, you asked gently.

Severus looked you over once again, his eyes falling from your face to your frame draped in his cloak and back, before discarding your comment completely.

“Since you seem to be able to manage the basics of protecting your emotions from a legilimency spell, we shall move on to protecting your thoughts and memories. Do as you had before. Allow your mind to go blank. Feel nothing”, Severus instructed carefully. “Legilimens”.

Flickers of the first time you had met Severus danced across the forefront of your mind. His imposing presence looming over you as he scolded you for being a liability. The feeling of shame and hurt washing over you before the vision changed.

You cringed as Severus delved deeper into your mind.

“I’m sorry”.

That familiar voice.

“I just can’t be with someone who knows my every thought”. You could feel your heart shredding at these words, once again.

“Control yourself”, you herd Snape’s words call out. You focused on them, allowing them to bring you back to the present.

You fought to focus on the memory created just moments ago, of Severus wrapping his cloak around you in order to ground yourself in the present, as you repeated his words in your mind.

‘Control yourself’.

As you continued to repeat those two words to yourself, you allowed your mind to empty. Memories attempted to flicker to the foreground, but each time you doused the memory in darkness.

Finally, Snape withdrew from your mind and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“Your reaction times are slow”, he mumbled.

“I know. I’m sorry-“.

“Stop apologising and act on it instead”, he snapped while you bit your lip to silence yourself. “With more practice you’ll improve. We will gradually increase the intensity until your mind is impenetrable”, he informs you.

For the next few hours, you repeat these steps; Snape invading your mind; you block him; repeat. By the end of your session, you had actually made some progress.

Before you left, you had unfastened Snape’s cloak from around your shoulders, dusting it off of any marks you may have left on it and admiring the luxurious material as you ran your hand over it.

“It was kind of you, allowing me to borrow this, Severus. Thank you”, you say, offering it back with a bashful smile. “I promise to bring a cloak of my own next time”.

He snatched the item of clothing from you, face unchanging. “Yes, that would be best”, he replied curtly as you made your way to the door.

“Thank you again for the lesson, Severus...”, you said, waiting for the potions master to say something in response. But he didn’t... and with that you left the classroom, leaving Severus clinging to his cloak.

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