#severus: why do you insist on ruining all that's good in my life? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prongsies · 4 years

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Flirt • Remus Lupin

PAIRING: Remus Lupin x Reader

REQUEST: Could I request a Remus x Reader? Reader is a well know witch and member of the order, which is how they met. She’s very suave, casually flirty, basically a female Sirius LOL. She has her sights set on Remus and they have both fallen for eachother but he doesn’t think he’s good enough for her or something to that effect, so he’s dodging all her advances. However, shes pretty bold and persistent. Feel free to take creative liberty!! Thank you!! xx

WARNINGS: Mentions of blood, mild language

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Being personally invited by the infamous Albus Dumbledore to be a member of the newly reformed Order of the Phoenix was an honor that you wouldn’t wish to reject. Being a member of the original Order before it disbanded, you were quite familiar with the risks it puts you in, especially now that you’re a renowned Auror.

“Oh, wow” You breathed out as you entered the household addressed Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Your eyes catch the rows of house-elf heads on the staircase walls, and the thick layer of dust on the furniture and fixtures, “This is a grim old place”

"You have my mother to thank for that" a voice joined you. You looked towards the threshold to what appears to be the kitchen, where Kingsley disappeared into. There stood a man, hair curling around his face, face sculpted by his goatee and the scruff of the rest of his beard growing around it. He offered a hand, "Sirius Black"

"(Y/f/n) (y/l/n)" you introduced, shaking his hand gently.

He walked aside to allow the other members to enter the room, stepping into the space in front of you with a glint in his eyes, "I'm surprised you didn't run at the sight of a mass murderer"

“Falsely-accused” You corrected, catching the smile forming on his face, “Kingsley filled me in on the way here - I do hope the Ministry does something about your case”

“I hope so too” He replied before motioning you to the threshold, allowing you in first as you prepared for the introductions about to come your way.

Everyone was gathered at a long table, all ceasing their conversations to welcome her as she walked in. “Over there are Molly and Arthur Weasley” Sirius stepped beside you, fingers brushing the small of your back while his other hand gestured towards the group of red-heads sitting the farthest. “Those are their children Bill and Charlie - the others are upstairs”

“I believe you’ve met Tonks, Kingsley, and our dearest Snivellus - I mean, Severus” He snickered silently at the glare sent his way, before turning to the last person sitting nearest you - a mousy-haired man with scars littering his face, “and that’s Remus Lupin”

He smiled a tired smile towards you, a handsome look on him, before his eyes darted towards the door where Albus Dumbledore strode in, carrying stacks of parchment in one hand while his other shut the door.

He welcomed you back warmly into the Order, asked how you’ve been after all those years, then proceeded to thank you for even considering rejoining. He proceeded to the main task at hand, assigning the missions, as he distributed the parchments towards all of you.

After the meeting, you were pulled aside by him, wanting to speak to you about private matters concerning the task he gave you. By the time you returned to the dining area, the table was already full of laughter from red-haired children (whom you could only assumed to be the Weasleys) as they watched Tonks morph her face into different animals.

“So (y/n)” Remus started when you chose a seat between him and Sirius, watching you as you started filling your plate. You turn towards him with both eyebrows raised questioningly, “Dumbledore mentioned you were in the first Order - how come I’ve never seen you before?”

“Oh, I was in between Auror training and Order missions then” You explained, taking your time to drink for your goblet, “I only returned to the headquarters to report back to Dumbledore and receive my next task - although a handsome man like you isn’t necessarily hard to miss”

“You’re clearly mistaken-”

“Not a chance!” You exclaimed, suddenly gaining the confidence as you straightened in your seat, “I remember you at Hogwarts before - a year above me. Always tucked in the corner of the library, you were, writing like you’re running out of time”

“An admirer” Sirius piped in, grinning.

“Clearly”

“How about me, though, (y/n)?” Sirius asked, playfully nudging your shoulder, “Did you happen to keep my devilishly handsome face in mind?”

“Eh,” You shrugged, “You have a really common face”

This erupted laughter from Sirius and Remus, and apparently from Bill too who had been watching the exchange in amusement.

As dinner concluded, you stayed behind to help Molly with the dishes, engaging in a conversation about the original Order where you’ve worked with her late brothers Fabian and Gideon Prewett. Growing fond of you immediately, she insisted you stay the night, not wanting you to leave the house alone especially with how dark it is outside.

Tired from your trip, you thanked her with a soft hug and a kind smile, before bidding the others good bye and retreating towards your temporary room for a good night’s rest.

___

Remus couldn’t explain the flutter in his stomach upon seeing you the next morning, hair unkept as you tightened the knots on your robe. It was far too early more, the sun barely up as you joined him in the kitchen, watching as he cooked breakfast for everyone.

“Smells amazing” You cooed as the scent of eggs and sausages filled your senses, “Merlin, what can’t you do, Remus Lupin?”

“Be a normal person, I suppose” He replied, giving you a half-hearted smile and a chuckle to indicate that he was joking.

You were aware of his lycanthropy - it seemed everyone in the Ministry of Magic knew about it, after a student’s parent in Hogwarts had let it slip (Of course Remus knew who it could be, but he didn’t wish to give a shit about it anymore).

Turning back towards you, confused of your silence when he noticed your face softening. He immediately regretted making such a joke that could ruin the mood, but he was pleasantly surprised when you grinned at him.

“Who wants to be normal anyway?” You asked, making a move to wrap an arm around his and bring him closer. Seeing you smiling up at him made it impossible for him to fight his own grin back, his cheeks almost hurting. “Normal is boring - and you, Remus Lupin, are far from boring”

With that, you released him from your grip, greeting Molly Weasley good morning as she shooed the two of you away from the kitchen, wanting to continue cooking on her own.

As everyone descended the stairs one by one, chatting happily among themselves as they ate their breakfasts, you found yourself caught in a conversation with Fred and George Weasley, who were more than happy to show you their inventions until Molly interrupted them by giving them the task of cleaning out one of the rooms.

You, however, have been convinced by Molly to stay at least until the childrens’ start of term, clearly loving having you around the house. Although hesitant, you agreed, roping Remus along to accompany you to Diagon Alley so you could purchase some extra supplies since you’ll be an extra head in the house.

He walked alongside you the whole time, keeping his distance yet allowing his fingers to brush your knuckles as your arms swayed. While he was busy, you couldn’t help but marvel at his beauty - eyes scanning over each scar that has silvered with age. They were a story of bravery, as you believed, how brave he is to conquer everyday despite his illness.

Catching you staring up at him, he couldn’t help but blush but he soon turned his face away from you, walking ahead and leaving you in the middle of the alley.

___

Eventually, your days in Grimmauld Place turned into weeks, and before you knew it, it was the night before you were to set out on your mission. To say you were nervous is an understatement, mainly because you’d be carrying out the most crucial of the missions Dumbledore had assigned - a mission that should lay out the foundations for the ones that should follow.

Being an Auror poses more risks as well, since there’s a high chance you’ve been the cause of many of the Death Eaters’ family’s imprisonment - and believe me when I say they can hold a deep grudge.

You found yourself unable to sleep, thoughts plaguing your mind about what may happen to you. You pushed your blanket away from you, putting on your slippers are you tried to go down the stairs as quietly as you can - until a floorboard creaked loudly underneath you.

“Well, that proved useless” You muttered under your breath before descending in a normal fashion. A chuckle sounded from behind you, startling you to the point where you’ve pulled out your wand from your pocket, aiming it towards the source.

It was Remus, watching you in amusement as you scoffed in his direction. Hiding your wand back into your robe, you continued your journey towards the kitchen, ignoring him as he mumbled an apology under his breath.

“I’m surprised you’re not flirting with me” He said, still watching you as you cast a silencing charm on the kettle so it wouldn’t make any noise and wake anyone.

Placing it over the heat, you turned towards Remus who was leaning against the table, eyes studying you as you placed two mugs beside him.

“I’m surprised you recognized flirting” You quipped, raising an eyebrow at him as he stared back at you with a smirk, “from how the last weeks had gone, you’ve been nothing but avoidant”

“You know, you’re very straight-forward” He strayed away from the topic, moving closer towards you until you’re shoulder to shoulder.

“Life’s too short not to say what you want”

“You remind me of Sirius far too much”

“As Molly had also said”

“Why don’t you pursue him instead?”

“Because I like you” You turned to him, a smile on your face as you stared up at him, seeing doubt cloud his eyes, but you were quick to place a hand on him in reassurance, “I like you - not Sirius, not... anyone else. You. It’s not that hard to understand”

“You don’t even know me” He mumbled, looking away, “I’m a monster - I’m a monster and I-”

“You’re not a monster - hey, look at me” You stepped in front of him, taking ahold both his cheeks so he meets your eyes again, “You’re not a monster. You’ve never been one and you never will be one. You’re Remus Lupin - a kind, generous man who gives as much as he can give. You’re adorably grumpy in the mrnings but you try to smile nonetheless, you snore even when you nap”

He chuckled at that, hands now coming up to cup your forearm as he relaxed into you.

“You’ve got an immense love for everyone around you - and a special and more intense kind of love for chocolate. You’re a fierce and selfless friend, and it’s an absolute honor that I’m allowed to even look at you every single day”

Remus was almost teary as you concluded your statement, his hands falling onto your waist as he looked at you with so much trust it made your heard want to burst out of your chest. He started leaning in, eyes closed, lips brushing yours softly - just a little more.

Until he opened his eyes. He pulled away, a look flashing in his orbs as he blinked a few times before he pulled away, body rigid. He stepped away from you as if you had burnt him, distancing himself to the point where he’s practically standing across the room. And without another word, he left, leaving you in the silence of the kitchen.

___

The ticking of the clock has been bothering Remus for ages as he sat on an armchair near the entrance, foot tapping against the floor in anticipation for your arrival. It had been more than a month since you left for your mission - which lasted longer than it should’ve.

No one had updates from you in fear of being exposed, and well, in that time span, guilt had bubbled into Remus’ stomach. You didn’t really leave off in good terms, since Remus walked out on you that night.

The morning after, you ignored him as you bid everyone farewell, taking your time with the Weasley children who seemed to grow very close to you.

Shouts echoed through the entrance hallway as the door slammed open. It was Kingsley, holding you up as you coughed out blood. Sirius was the first down the stairs, followed by Arthur who immediately screamed out for Molly’s aid.

With Remus’ help you were placed gently onto the sofa, wincing as you applied pressure over the wound that had continued bleeding.

“What happened?” Remus asked, turning to Kingsley whose robes were damp with blood, “Does Dumbledore know? Does-”

“He knows” Kingsley said, managing to remain calm as everyone fussed around you - Sirius coming back from the kitchen with a glass of water while Arthur sends a message out to the rest of the Order members. “She-she managed to do it but there were a tad bit of complications”

“Tad bit?!” Remus exclaimed, “How is- how is this a tad bid?! She’s bleeding out for Merlin’s sake-”

“Remus” Your voice called out.

His features immediately soften as he turned to you, seeing you beckoning him over as Molly finished up tending to you. Everyone understood to leave you two alone, all of them disappearing into the dining area to talk as they wait for Dumbledore to arrive.

“Are you alright?”

“I’ve been better” You chuckled, wincing when you tried to straighten up. “Might’ve ran into a few snatchers on the way back, it’s nothing serious really”

“I was so worried about you” He mumbled after a few beats of silence, kneeling down to be at eye level with you as he held both your hands. “We didn’t- we didn’t really left things at the right foot”

“Well, you did embarrass me by leaving me in the middle of the kitchen” You teased, smiling when you see the faint blush forming on his cheeks, “But now that I think about it I might have come off a bit strong. I apologize, it certainly won’t happen again”

“No! I mean- I mean, no please don’t stop” He turned even redder.

You stared at him, a smirk forming on your lips, “You like it when I flirt with you, don’t you?”

“Yes” He shamefully admitted, biting back the grin forming on his lips, “Yes, I do”

“Well, you could’ve said something earlier before I set out on a mission!” You laughed, wincing again at the pain in your stomach, “I thought we would end up avoiding each other awkwardly for eternity after this”

“well, we could if you want”

“Sod off, Remus”

“I know it’s the wrong time to ask you this, with you in that state and the war going on” He started, his grip on your hand tightening, “But I’d really love it if we could start over? Maybe go on a few dates?”

“And fuck?” You suggested playfully, earning a laugh from him.

“And fuck” He added, nodding.

“Well, then,” You leaned down to give him a gentle peck on his cheek, “I’d love that Remus Lupin”

#remus lupin #remus lupin imagines #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #sirius black #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagines #marauders #marauders imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader

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violet-knox · 3 years

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Kindness is Overrated

Year 7 - Chapter 63

Summary: You spend Christmas morning with Connor and Severus exchanging gifts.

Word count: 3876

Warnings: A bit of naughty touching

A/N: Wow this update is so long overdue. I should have come back to this story a long time ago, but I at the very least wanted to post a chapter before I started posting my Snape Bang entry. As I mentioned before in a previous ask, I’ll be alternating between writing a chapter for this story and fulfilling my request todo list. I’ll also be posting my Snape Bang soon so stay tuned for that. Writing this chapter, I realized it’ll take me a bit of time to get back into this story and I’m so sad I missed the opportunity to post this chapter on Christmas. There’s even a chapter coming up focused on Severus’ birthday and I know I won’t be able to post that any time soon, but that’s okay. It’ll just be a delayed celebration. I hope you enjoy and I hope my posting rate will increase this year (low key new years resolution?) compared to the last.

Previous Chapter - Chapter 1

Severus was so insistent yesterday on spending the night in his dorm despite the fact you’d done just that every day for the past week. You’d begun to cherish your mornings together and couldn’t imagine any reason why last night would be any different, but you had to admit, waking up today felt nothing like it had this past week. The warmth of Christmas morning enveloped your body as you felt the gentle brush of slow, sensual kisses trailing across your neck and collarbone. It was nothing like the last few mornings you’d spent together, and you understood why Severus was so persistent yesterday, constantly making sure you were planning to sleep beside him.

“Happy Christmas,” you mumble through your sleepy state, your eyes open just enough to catch the light of the morning, your fingers twirling around strands of Severus’ hair as he continued to press his lips to your skin. This holiday was always meant to bring people such joy and year after year you’d see families gathering, friends exchanging gifts, an overall feeling of love and joy passed from one person to the next. But it was never a holiday you’d found yourself caring for. Last year you thought the Yule Ball was your one chance to experience what everyone else felt this time of year, but it wasn’t until this morning that you’d understood why Christmas was such a special holiday.

“Happy Christmas,” Severus whispered into your ear before lightly grazing his teeth against your earlobe, teasing you as he let one of his hands travel up from your hip to your waist, resting against the side of your breast. Pressing his knee between your legs, he moved to press as much of himself to you as he could. With your chest against his, your hands in his hair and his lips finally meeting yours, he felt his heart swelling with such glee. He’d been looking forward to Christmas all year, needing it to be perfect to make up for what he’d done last Christmas. He wanted to please you, to show you how much you meant to him as best he could tonight, starting with the passion he put into your morning kiss.

You blinked away your sleep as you parted, your eyes finally meeting his, your hand slipping from his hair to rest on his jaw. You smiled as you felt yourself floating in bliss, feeling guilty about having to ruin this wonderful morning by telling Severus you’d have to meet Connor for breakfast in the Great Hall. the idea of bringing it up to Severus these past few days had loomed over you, saddening you when you saw how happy he was to be spending so much free time together over the holidays, you didn’t want to ruin it.

“What’s wrong?” Severus saw the burden in your eyes, worried he’d already done something to ruin such an amazing day. He propped himself up on his elbows and peered down at you, studying your face as he waited for an answer.

“It’s nothing-”

“No,” he interrupted you before you could even try and come up with an excuse, anything to explain your sudden shift in mood without upsetting him. “I know that look, something is troubling you. Tell me (Y/N), you know I’m here for anything you need.”

Your lips stretched into the widest of smiles, elated by his words. He’d been so supportive this year, your rock to lean on, someone you knew you could go to with anything and you loved him more for that. It was hard to tell him the truth now, knowing he’d do anything to protect your happiness only to have you turn around and snatch his away from him.

“Okay, don’t get upset but-” you pushed him from over you and sat up against the wall. “I told Connor we would spend Christmas morning with him.”

“(Y/N)!” You could already see his anger bubbling to the surface as he sat opposite to you, his fingers running quickly through his hair like they always had whenever he was stressed. Your heartbeat fastened as you so desperately hoped to salvage the moment, your hand finding his, squeezing it tightly.

“I’m sorry! I know how much you wanted to spend the holidays together, but we couldn’t avoid him forever Sev.” You leaned into him and let one hand slowly rub up and down his bare arm, trying to assure him the day was not lost. “Please don’t be mad at me, it’ll only be a couple of hours.”

Severus took a deep breath before looking up at you, the corner of his lips twitching into a subtle smile. He couldn’t believe you’d asked that of him when he knew very well there was nothing you could do to make him mad at you. Of course he was upset this day wouldn’t be absolutely perfect, but he would never hold it against you, nor would he blame you for wanting to brighten the day of everyone around you with the privilege of your company.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you,” you offered with a sly smile as you crawled out from under the covers and over his lap. You settled atop him, wrapping your arms around his neck, his hands slipping from your legs and over your pants, resting on your waist under the shirt you wore. Pressing your lips to his, you sealed your promise with a kiss, happy to see your morning plans hadn’t ruined his mood.

“We should get dressed,” you whispered as you trailed kisses down his jaw, one hand gripping his hair. You felt his own hands slither to your back and press you against him, lifting your shirt up as they rested between your shoulder blades. You loved the feeling of his skin against yours, especially with the contrast of the cold dungeon air, but you knew if you didn’t get going now, Connor would start to suspect there was something between you and Severus. There were times where you thought telling Connor the truth would make life much easier, but every time you thought of saying something, you could only imagine the abandonment he’d feel knowing two of his friends were dating and you couldn’t do that to him, especially on Christmas day.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I cannot wait to spend our next Christmas away from Hogwarts.” You chuckled, taken back by his words, never thinking you’d see the day that Severus Snape would prefer spending his time away from Hogwarts. Slipping off his lap, you took his hand and smiled knowing you were the reason he was happy enough to find a home outside of Hogwarts. You stood in front of the bed, Severus joining you before he reached into his trunk and handed you your uniform.

You both got dressed, Severus taking his time, knowing now there was absolutely no rush to start the day since he’d be forced to waste hours of it in the company of others. You watched him lean back on the bed when he was done tying his shoes, smiling at you as if you’d just returned from class, ready to call it a night and cuddle with him. Shaking your head, you grasped his hand and pulled him off the bed, dragging him out of the dorm until he finally stopped resisting, trying to enjoy the last few moments he’d get to hold your hand before you both found yourself in the Great Hall.

It wasn’t until you’d stepped through the large doors you realized you’d spent longer than usual in the Slytherin dorm this morning, everyone else already present, seated at the table. Two empty seats stood waiting for you beside Connor and without a second thought, you sat next to him, placing yourself between Severus and Connor. The feast began and you enthralled at the food appearing before you. You’d always loved Christmas at Hogwarts, but nothing could ever compare to this year’s Christmas, the feeling of love, care and acceptance flowing from one side of the table to the next. House rivalry was forgotten, and all sat at the same table as equals.

Severus did his best to engage in conversation with you and Connor. He wanted to see you happy, glad you were smiling all throughout breakfast, but he felt envious. He wanted to be the sole reason for the smile you wore, to be your happiness like you were his. It was selfish of him to think like this, he knew that, but he was at least glad this Christmas was going a lot better than last years. At least with Connor here, Severus was more inclined to keep himself grounded, letting you take the lead instead of jumping the gun like last year. He even felt himself enjoying a conversation with Connor, less resentful towards the fact he was stealing alone time with you until owls interrupted the feast, one landing in front of Connor.

The box it was carrying weighed down the poor creature, struggling to keep itself upright when it finally landed. You offered the owl all the food you could grab and filled your empty goblet with water, hoping it hadn’t travelled too far to deliver whatever it was Connor’s parents had sent him. You were surprised to see Connor push aside the gift as if it wasn’t important, always assuming Christmas would mean a lot more to those with caring families. His attention instead lay on the gifts he pulled from his robes, handing one to you, the other to Severus.

“I suppose now is as good a time as any. Merry Christmas,” he told you both as he handed you your gifts. You smiled in return and reached into your own robes to hand Connor and Severus their gifts. Connor’s face lit up, happily opening the gift you gave him, Severus feeling much less elated than him. His lips stretched into a frown as envy took him over once more. He felt humiliated for being the only one without gifts to give at breakfast and enraged that you and Connor had thought of each other when shopping for Christmas this year. He watched the boy sitting on the other side of you tear apart the wrapping paper you’d so neatly folded over the present, holding out a Herbology starter pack that you’d taken the time to buy for him. He held his breath as Connor thanked you, watching you open his gift to reveal a broomstick polishing kit. He’d been so busy drowning in his own fury, he’d neglected to open his own present, your voice the only thing reminding him of the fact that you’d taken the time to buy and wrap his gift too.

“Sev, open it!” You pushed, unable to take the anticipation any longer. You’d put so much thought into his gift, looked everywhere for the perfect item to give him, you couldn’t wait to see the look on his face when he unwrapped it. Severus’ lips twitched into a smile, his shoulders dropping as he felt himself let go of the resentment he’d felt towards this holiday and very delicately began to reveal your gift to him. “Come on Sev, the new year will arrive before you finish unwrapping it!”

Severus scoffed at your comment, but didn’t let it affect his speed, wanting to cherish this moment as much as he could and salvage every piece of care you’d put into this gift. Finally he pulled back the wrapping and his eyes were met with the most beautiful dragon scale notebooks he’d ever seen, a quill set placed atop them. His nimble fingers hovered over the items feeling completely unworthy to touch them as you smiled with satisfaction. You were overjoyed at his reaction, knowing he would love the delicacy of the items, the rich cover of the two notebooks and the intricate metal casing holding the most stunning quill you’d ever seen.

“(Y/N), this is-” Severus was at a loss for words, wanting so badly to kiss you and spend the rest of the day simply staring at the quill and notebooks you’d bought for him. “They’re remarkable. Thank you.”

You took his hand, smiling in response as he grasped your hand and ran his thumb over your knuckles a moment before letting go. He picked up the quill set and opened it to reveal a beautiful flaming red phoenix feather quill, accompanied by four detachable tips and a self-filling inkwell. He grazed his fingers over the feather, deciding it was too perfect to ever be used. He wanted to keep this quill and the notebooks that came along with it forever, never to be tarnished, never to be ruined. The notebooks were made with the same high-quality craftsmanship as the quill, the spine carefully pressed, the covers beautifully made. They were absolutely perfect and he couldn’t have wished for a better gift.

“Well, now I’m not sure you should open my gift Severus. It’ll never compare to something like that,” Connor gestured to his gift, Severus almost forgetting he had one more present to unwrap.

“I’m sure whatever it is, Severus will appreciate it,” you lied to Connor, knowing full well it didn’t matter what either of you gave him. Severus would cherish any present from you over anything anyone else would give him. That of course didn’t stop your curiosity as you watched Severus tear open Connor’s gift to reveal a small set of potion ingredients.

“Thanks,” Severus mumbled to Connor with as much of a smile as he could muster. The ingredients Connor had given him weren’t cheap and he was thankful for them, but his thoughts still lingered on your gift. He couldn’t take it anymore. He’d entertained the idea of sharing Christmas morning with Connor long enough. He needed to spend the rest of the day with you alone, needing to show his appreciation and hope you’d like his gift half as much as he loved yours. “I think I’ll go drop these off at my dorm.”

Severus wasted no time gathering his belongings and jumping to his feet, his eyes briefly meeting yours as he walked out of the Great Hall. You could barely keep from reacting before you found yourself standing up as well, excusing yourself and thanking Connor one last time. You ran off before he could ask to meet in the evening and left the Great Hall after Severus. You caught up with him as he was making his way to the dungeons, seeing him stare down so intently at your gift in his hands.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad was it?” You chuckled, thinking back to his disappointment when you’d mentioned spending the morning with Connor. You were glad to see Severus making conversation during breakfast and knew your gift would help lift his mood. You could only look forward to whatever the rest of the day had in store for you, ready to properly celebrate Christmas with Severus.

“I suppose not.” Severus pushed his gifts to one hand and held yours with the other. He gave you a soft smile as you walked down the stairs to the dungeons feeling grateful to have you in his life. He couldn’t have been more thankful than he was in this moment, but his growing love for you kept him afraid. He worried over losing you, over ruining things to the point of no return or have someone else take you away from him. He worried over Connor’s intentions and couldn’t help but nitpick on every move he made towards you.

“You know, I think Connor fancies you,” he commented casually, feeling unsettled by his thoughts. He already knew you’d think it was ludicrous and your laugh confirmed just that, but jumping to the worst case scenario in his mind was something he couldn’t help but do. He knew you loved him, he knew what you shared was real, but that didn’t stop him from assuming the worst.

“Why because he’s nice to me?” Your laughter died down, but the absurdity of his comment kept your smile from fading. “Severus, just because a friend is kind to me, doesn’t mean they fancy me.”

He was being paranoid, and you weren’t surprised. Connor hadn’t done anything to warrant these accusations, but Severus didn’t have the best track record with the people he cared about, and you understood his hesitation to trust others. You didn’t expect him to trust Connor or to open up to him when it had taken years for you to reach that point in your relationship with him, but you hoped that he at the very least had faith in you and trusted you to do the right thing if what he claimed was true.

“Don’t be so sure. We started off as friends,” Severus agued, thinking back to how kind you’d been to him when you’d first met. He hadn’t done a thing to deserve your kindness, yet you’d blessed him with it and continued to do so until you became the one person in his life he couldn’t live without. He remembered you standing by his side when everyone else turned against him after the Whomping Willow incident, not even questioning why he was there or what happened. You’d just sat there with him, comforting him while the rest of the school put Potter up on a pedestal. He remembered every kind gesture you’d ever given him, the job he’d received over the summer, the happy memories he’d gotten to build at Cokeworth because of you. He could never repay the happiness you’d given him, and he worried that Connor was now giving you what he couldn’t; a show of appreciation.

“That’s different!” you protested, dismissing his worries, finding them completely ridiculous. “Besides, even if it were true, it wouldn’t matter. You’re the one I want to be with.”

You smiled as you stepped into the Slytherin common room, making your way to the boy’s dorm. Severus immediately walked over to his trunk to put away his gifts, taking special care of your notebooks and quill as you threw yourself on his bed.

“So, where’s my gift?” You leaned back on the bed and looked down at him, smiling in anticipation. You knew Severus would only want to give you your gift in private despite the fact you’d already given him his. Even if you’d told him ahead of time, you knew he wouldn’t want to buy Connor a gift, so you decided it was best to hand him his gift with Connor’s and ambush him for your gift later.

“Gift?” Severus questioned like he had no clue what you were talking about.

“My Christmas gift!” you leaned towards him at the edge of the bed, offended he would dare forget your gift after all the thought you put into his. Your eyes widened as you waited for him to apologize and give you your gift. You weren’t at all materialistic, nor did you care for expensive gifts, but the idea of someone shopping for you, of wrapping a gift with you in mind was something you’d always cherished. You wanted to feel loved and you wanted him to take advantage of one of the only excuses he had to show his love for you.

“I don’t recall agreeing to exchanging gifts this year.” Severus smirked as you pouted, half believing his lies, acting like a child who’d received a chunk of coal for Christmas. He chuckled and gave up his ruse, pulling out a neatly wrapped gift from his trunk. He closed his trunk and walked around the bed to sit beside you before handing you your gift, watching as you smiled. You placed the gift on your lap and took care when unwrapping the paper, just as he did with yours. Severus held onto every moment that passed, watching you intently as your eyes sparkled with wonder, your heart filled with love and your smile proudly displaying your glee for him.

Pulling back the wrapping paper, you revealed a large brown photo album with gold braces on each corner. In the centre was one word, letters partially faded, written in cursive gold lettering: Memories. Inside were three photographs, pinned to the first page. The first was a Muggle picture, a still image of you standing with Severus in the middle of the bookshop on your last day of work. Mr. Davis had insisted on taking the image, knowing you wouldn’t come back to work for him again, but you had no idea Severus had asked for a copy, never seeing him as the type to enjoy photographs. The second was a picture of you flying on your broom, waving as you went in and out of frame. It was your first game as Captain, you knew because of the nervous look on your face, the lack of confidence that you had now. The final image was a polaroid of Severus, one he’d taken himself. You smiled as the figure in the photo waved at you, his eyes filled with love.

“Oh Severus,” you whispered as your fingers traced the border of the last image. “It’s beautiful.”

Severus smiled, delighted with the warmth in your eyes as you stared at his gift. It really wasn’t much of a present, nowhere near as expensive as yours, but when he saw the album in the window of the antique shop he passed by on his way to work over the summer, his mind going back to it all day, he knew he had to buy it for you. He knew that you’d soon start your lives together and he wanted you to keep all your memories of the life you’d build together all in one place.

“Do you really like it?” he whispered back, a small bit of nervousness in his voice. Despite your words, he really wanted to be sure you liked his gift as much as he did yours. You tore your eyes from the album and took your hand in his, smiling from ear to ear.

“I love it,” you assured him, tucking his hair behind his ear with your free hand. You cupped his jaw and watched a look of content wash over his face, the joy of Christmas and the love shared in your gifts enveloping you as you leaned in. Severus returned your motions, pressing his hand against yours as he tilted his head and closed his eyes. Your lips brushed against one another, his soft touch sending sparks jolting through your veins as you kissed.

You set aside the album for now and leaned forward as Severus lay on the bed, accepting what you’d consider your second Christmas gift. He hummed in delight as he pressed you to him, wrapping his arms around you. He couldn’t have asked for a better Christmas and it seemed that all those years of wishing for a holiday where he wouldn’t have to spend it alone was all worth it in the end. He never would have pictured his wishes coming to life in such a simple way, but he was glad they had, and he was glad that they’d all been fulfilled by you.

Next Chapter

@dracos-mudblood @bush-viper-cutie @wanderingtrails @sleepysnapesnake @fluffymadamina

#Severus Snape #Severus x reader #Severus Snape x reader #Snape x reader #young Severus Snape #young Snape x reader #my fanfic #my writing #pro Snape #snapedom #female reader

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beanbini · 3 years

Text

Those Dead Eyes (Harry Potter)

I have written quite a few stories and one-shots for Harry Potter and other fandoms. I have decided to test out to see if this would be a good place to post some of them.

If you want to read my stories: UnknownFilters (Quotev, AO3, and Fanfiction.)

Description: Minerva McGonagall reflects on Severus's death after the final battle of Hogwarts. (Based on the last movie)

STORY:

Once upon a time, Severus Snape's eyes were brown. Brown eyes that were full of life. Minerva didn't remember this fact until she saw Severus's memories. She pulled her head from the Pensieve.

Her eyes shed silent tears as she digested the memories Harry had given her access to a few minutes ago. She was so used to see his black cold eyes. Devoid of life.

Devoid of the spark that held the wanting to live.

The memory of the first time she had Severus, as a young Slytherin first year. Looking towards her in a desperate silent plea of help to save him from the increasing bullying he was receiving from her own house was burned into her mind. She braced herself against the Pensieve.

Watching the memories replay in the enchanted water. It was mere hours ago she wanted to kill him. Now she wanted nothing more than to see her friend. Pull him into a hug despite his insistent protest and sit down to a game of muggle chess. Which would probably end in them bickering over quidditch.

Voldemort was dead. Fifty people on the light side were dead. The castle was damaged. She looked up to the ceiling above her with a long tired sigh. Could she handle dealing with Severus's sarcasm right now?

She turned to look at Harry. He stared at her with haunted eyes, His body was battered and bruised but he was still alive.

"Harry...Where is Severus?"

Harry, who already looked like he wanted nothing more than to collapse and sleep for the next one hundred years, slumped and tears were springing up in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but couldn't seem to say anything. Minerva felt a sinking feeling of doom that she lost another important person in her life. She took a slow careful step towards her Gryfindor. Her throat tightened up at the news she didn't want to hear.

"Where is Severus, Harry?"

"Dead." Harry said. His voice was barely a whisper. Minerva forced herself to stifle a sob as more grief washed over her.

"H-How?" She tried to keep her voice steady.

"The boathouse. Voldemort thought he was the master of the elder wand so he cut his throat and made Nagini give the killing blows." Harry said. Wiping the tears with his sleeve. His fists clenched tightly.

Minerva didn't have time to process and ask herself why Harry was angry about the Potions master's death. She exited the office quickly. Moving through the school and her grounds as if on autopilot. Barely realizing that Harry was following her.

She reached the boathouse without incident. She paused at the doorway. The musty smell of fire, death, and stale lake air was overwhelming her senses. She didn't want to believe he was dead. She prayed to Merlin, despite knowing it wouldn't make any difference, that Severus was simply knocked out. Sleeping. Whatever.

Her eyes met Harry's green eyes. Filled with grief and guilt.

"Stay here. I need...I need to see this. Alone."

Harry nodded. Taking a step back to provide her space. She pushed open the dirty glass door to look inside the dark boathouse. She walked down the long rectangle room as her eyes adjusted to the darkness surrounding her. She saw quickly recognized Fawkes.

She yanked out her wand and did a short wave. Not believing she was staring at Fawkes, who was staring at something against the back wall of the boathouse.

"Lumos."

The area was dimly lit. Allowing her to see what Fawkes was actually doing. Fawkes was leaning over Severus's body. His tears falling on Severus's throat where his throat was cut with one precise cut and six bite marks from a venomous snake on the side. Minerva forced herself to looked at Severus's face. He didn't look scared or surprised. He didn't even look angry. But his eyes. His eyes were half-open. Allowing her to see the black dead eyes of her former student.

His eyes didn't look any different than when he was alive for the past ten years. Minerva stepped closer. Not failing to notice the dried blood that pooled on the ground beneath him. His blood-soaked skin and clothes. Fawkes pulled back. Waiting and watching for Severus to wake up and say something. Anything.

The dead eyes kept looking at her.

Minerva, with a shaky hand, pressed on her fingers against the uninjured side of his throat for a sign of a heartbeat. His skin was cold. There wasn't a thudding of hope. A sign of life. He wasn't breathing. He didn't blink. There was no sarcastic comment to make her infuriated. There was no taunting to prove his house was superior.

Tears poured down her cheeks. Fawkes must have realized it wouldn't have worked as he started to sing the Phoenix Lament. The same chilling song he sang in Albus's death. Minerva sobbed and grabbed Severus's cloak. Shaking his body briefly. Pulling her best glare she used to intimidate students, which she found still worked on Severus even during his teaching days, as a fruitless effort to scare him back to death.

"Damn you, Severus! Severus, get the hell up! Severus, wake up!" She pleaded.

The dead black eyes stared back at her. The young brown eyes of Severus in his first year flashed in her mind again. The brown eyes he had before he started occlumency. Before he used the skill to shut away his feeling, personality, thoughts, and most importantly memories. The more he put up walls in his mind. The darker his eyes got over the years.

"Severus..." Her voice cracked. Fawkes continued to sing. Fawkes must have known what they were planning. Fawkes valued loyalty. Severus was loyal to the end. Severus was even loyal to a dead man. She pulled him against her body. Wanting to find any sign of life as she cried harder. Not just for Severus now. But for all the grief she had pushed down over the past year, over the past few months, over the past hours.

Even a Phenoix can't save a dead man.

Minerva cradled his head before pulling him into an awkward hug. Her body still shaking in grief. Fawkes finished his song. Instead of flying away, he stayed. He stayed. He stayed when Albus died. He watched over the school in secret, using invisibility without anyone but Severus's knowledge. He will stay to look after the school and her students. The school his best friend cared for. The school his spy, a man Albus considered his own child, tried to save in the last year of his life. The school Albus's best friend wouldn't let fall to ruin. Even if it killed her.

So Fawkes stayed as Minerva let go of Severus, gently closing his eyes. Holding her wand tightly as she wiped her tear and canceled the Lumos spell. The room filled with darkness again when Minerva levitated the spy's body in the air and left the room. The room that still had the pool of blood spread across the floor. Fawkes flew beside Minerva as she guided Severus and herself into the open. Harry didn't say a word as he followed the new headmistress of Hogwarts and the hated Potions Master towards the broken castle.

Minerva was silent as she reflected on the Slytherin boy with brown eyes as they marched back to the aftermath of war.

---The End---

#minerva mcgonagall #severus snape death #severus snape #sad #Albus Dumbledore #deathly hallows #Harry Potter #fawkes the phoenix #fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter deathly hallows #death

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twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years

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June, 1976 (WITT One-Shot)

A/N: If you want to remain in the taglist pls interact with this one-shot even if you haven’t read book 4-5 yet. A like or a comment is fine, the people who don’t want to continue reading obvsly do not interact and I’ll delete from the taglist :) -Danny

Words: 2,590

Series’ Masterlist

Emily was tired, but she'd spent all day overthinking and she was done, it was time to grow up.

She could hear Lily Evans' voice ushering Severus Snape away, he'd been coming around for several hours during the day trying to apologize, but he'd finally crossed a line.

"It's not your fault, you know?"

Matthew's voice caught her attention, he'd stopped at the foot of the stairs, one hand propped on the wall.

"Snape and Evans have been fighting for months now, I think it's because of what he's been doing with the Slytherins... you know, the cult stuff."

Emily averted her gaze to the fireplace.

"I know..."

Matthew hesitated, he'd promised himself that he wouldn't go back to being Emily's therapist, but something was different this time, it wasn't her usual kind of sulking.

"Are you okay?"

She looked at him over her shoulder and frowned.

"I'm not the one who got called 'mudblood' by a close friend."

"No, you weren't," He admitted. "Which is why it's so strange to see you all sad."

"I'm not sad."

"Is this about James?"

He didn't want to know, but alas, he'd asked.

"No," She made a face. "I don't think I care about him that way anymore."

"It's easier said than done," Matthew crossed his arms, his shoulder now leaning on the archway of the stairs.

"What do you want, Ruddy?" Emily groaned.

"I don't want anything from you," The boy replied. "But I have the feeling that you need to talk."

"I do," She said. "Not with you, though."

Matt nodded, he sighed.

"Good luck, then, have a good night."

"'Night."

Emily watched him disappear up the stairs, she didn't know why, but the memory of his burning gaze before he kissed her came back then, his intense determination as he held her closer... That moment Emily had found herself unable to move away, to say no. She wished she had his courage to just do stuff even when he was intimidated by them, she needed that kind of bravery tonight.

Lily Evans entered the tower two minutes later, Emily stood up abruptly and the redhead came to a halt.

For a moment none of them spoke, then Lily's face showed tons of fatigue.

"What now? Is it your turn to call me a stuck-up bore because I didn't agree to go out with Potter?"

Emily shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Can we talk?" She asked shyly. "I promise it's not a trick... I'm sorry."

Emily's behaviour towards her was usually hostile, tonight her voice was gentle, and even a little afraid.

"You're sorry?"

"I don't expect you to believe me," Emily continued, lowering her gaze. "I know you and Snape were close — I don't understand how can you like him... listen I suck at apologies, can't you just say it's alright so we can go to bed?"

Lily crossed her arms, standing straighter.

"No, I think I want you to try harder."

Emily groaned, she sat down heavily and started to think her words carefully, Lily inched closer.

"Boys can be cruel when they're not thinking — Anyone, really... I've been brutal myself — Matthew and I almost stopped being friends a few months ago, because I don't like talking about my feelings," She laughed dryly. "I don't know what is it about today that it just... I don't want to be a tormentor my whole life, let alone to someone who is... tolerable. I'm sorry for making your life a living hell these past few years."

Lily sat down, although she kept the seat between them empty to keep some distance.

"You didn't make my life a living hell," She replied. "I... can admit you're a bit clever... even likeable — that last match when you threw Lewis a bludger after he called you a midget... it was kind of funny."

"The boys walked me everywhere that week, they thought Ernest was going to try and get back at me," Emily bit her lip, but she was now smiling. "I mean, I lived in fear for days! Thinking he would spike my drink at some point with poison or something... Until Matthew cornered him outside D.A.D.A. class one day, poor Lewis... he looked so small in comparison..."

"Anyone looks small next to Matthew, he's a giant," Lily grinned. "Well, if it's any consolation, I was planning on murdering you in a much classier manner than poison, but since you've apologized, I guess I won't have to kill you after all."

Emily snorted, her eyes lingered on Lily, who looked like she'd been crying for most of the day, and yet still had enough energy to sit down and talk with the girl she'd detested for the last four years.

"Why are you being nice?" She asked in annoyance. "I mean I'm glad you're kind of accepting my apology, but I thought you'd be a bit colder, walking away before I could even finish..."

"What kind of person do you think I am?" Lily raised a brow, with the orange light coming from the fireplace her green eyes looked far more intense than usual. "If I'm honest, you should thank Remus... he's tried to convince me that you lot are far better than you look..."

Emily sighed, when she was young she'd do mischief for fun, but now that she was older, and considering all the weird stuff that was happening outside the school, she was starting to think that maybe her group of friends were indeed changing for the best.

"I'm going to be honest with you too, Evans," The girl took a deep breath. "Being the only girl in my friend group is turning out to be pure torture. I'm in desperate need of a girlfriend."

Lily's mouth twitched a bit, but she didn't laugh.

"What makes you think I want to be your friend?"

"Oh, I don't think you want to," She raised a brow. "But maybe if we're on good terms I'd be able to ask you for a tampon without having to swallow my pride first."

Lily did laugh at this, she shook her head. "Holy Merlin, Sultens, you're loopy."

"You would be too if you were seated next to Sirius every day!" She paused. "So... are you willing to make peace?"

Lily examined her carefully, four long years of quarrels sat between them, but a lifetime of friendship could be ahead if Emily was truly sorry. She was a nice girl, and really smart too, she was annoying only when she was taunting Severus, and he was no longer her friend.

Lily stretched out her hand.

"Very well, but if you go back the deal is over and we'll be less than strangers, understood?"

"Sure."

She retreated her hand before Emily could grab it.

"Hang on — this is not Potter's idea, right? You're not trying to be my friend just so I date him later?"

"Lily, if anything I hope you and James never date," Emily snickered. "Nothing personal, you're just way too good for him."

"...Alright."

They shook hands, she'd meant what she said about it not being personal. James was a boy, a very silly one at that, and even though they were really close friends, Emily was no longer a blind supporter of his doings.

Funnily enough, this seemed to be related to Matthew, she couldn't stop thinking about that kiss! Merlin, he was a good kisser...

She shook the thought away, now was not the time for nonsense.

"I'm very honoured to be your acquaintance, Evans," Emily grinned.

"Call me Lily. Only Professors call me Evans... and Potter, but you know I hate that."

"Got it, Lils."

July 1996

"...I don't think this is right," Mel tilted her head. "Brownies are mean to be brown... not pitch-black."

"You burned them," Harry was standing behind them with his arms crossed, clearly upset.

"How could you burn them, Erick? They were in there for five minutes!"

"Are you sure..." Erick stabbed the mixture with a knife and made a face. "Ugh — they're still liquid in the middle!"

"How the fuck did you do this?"

"I thought it would work just the same if I doubled the heat and put less time," Erick sulked. "Ovens are weird."

"This is why we told you to stay out of it," Harry replied. "You don't know how muggle stuff work."

"I do know!"

"Then why did you burn the brownies?"

"Don't fight," Mel intervened, grabbing the platter and throwing its contents away. "Oh well, at least we ruined my birthday cake and not someone else's..."

"That's not okay," Harry frowned. "You should have a proper cake."

Mel looked at him and grinned. "I'll eat yours, then."

"How's everything going in here?" Emily walked in, behind her Lupin followed.

"Uncle Lu!" Mel rushed over to his side and hugged him, the man chuckled. "You came!"

"Well, hadn't been around for your birthday in a long time, I thought you'd like it," He said, lovingly patting her back.

"I do," She beamed. "We kind of ruined the cake, though, so we should buy doughnuts or something."

"It's a good thing I brought this, then," Lupin lifted his bag and placed it on the table, inside there was a beautifully adorned red velvet cake.

"You just saved my birthday!"

Harry and Erick shared a moody expression and grumbled complaints, Lupin laughed.

"The kids insisted on doing the cakes this year," Emily explained. "I told them it was not an easy job, but they insisted."

"Mel and I have done this before, Erick was the one who wanted to be in charge when he can't even make tea without magic," Harry glared at him.

"Muggles stuff are too complicated, alright?" He huffed.

"I don't mind," Mel said without paying attention to them, she was still beyond happy with her uncle's presence. "I wanted to give my mum a break, Leggie's been a bit hard to handle lately..."

"Is he?" Lupin looked at the little boy Emily was holding. "Is he ill?"

"No, he just cries a lot," The woman sighed. "Wakes us up every night."

"I thought that forcing my mother to bake when she's clearly too tired to be doing anything apart from feeding a baby was a crime," Mel stated. "So I took care of it."

"Then Flint messed it up," Harry taunted.

"And then you fixed it, Uncle Moony," The girl smiled. "So there's no harm done, right boys?"

She looked over her shoulder, raising a brow as if urging them to stop bickering before they embarrassed her in front of Lupin. Both mumbled their agreement, not quite meeting her eyes.

"Lovely," Mel looked back at the adults. "Who wants lunch?"

Mel and Erick were in the kitchen talking in hurried whispers, she appeared to be upset, the young man too. Emily and Remus were in the drawing-room, Harry was upstairs changing Reg's diaper.

"Do you know why they're arguing?" Remus asked, staring at the pair.

"Dumbledore came by this morning before breakfast," Emily sighed, leaning her head back on the couch. "Talked about this mission he had for Erick — you know how eager to help that boy is... so of course the old man came and put his offer on a silver platter, and Mel won't let Erick go on his own, so being the generous soul Dumbledore is," She said sarcastically, "He said she could go too if she wanted to."

"Really?" Remus frowned. "Well... he's been giving her lessons for years, Mily, perhaps he knows she can handle it."

"I don't care," She said bluntly. "That's my daughter, my daughter. Matt's daughter. How can he continue to risk my family's life like it's nothing?"

"You know Matthew did all he that because he wanted to, Dumbledore had nothing to do with his decisions."

"I know," Emily took a deep breath. "But he's got a lot to do with Mel's... she idolizes him."

"You think so?" The man looked over his shoulder again, staring at his goddaughter.

"I don't see why else she'd be so keen to follow his orders..."

"Maybe because she feels guilty?" Remus offered. "After what happened in the ministry..."

Emily pressed her lips together, she didn't want to talk about that.

"That's not her fault and she knows it. I told her it wasn't."

"You weren't there," He said gravely. "She went out of control. I had never seen anything like it, her magic was dark— I mean that literally. All the spells she did came out pitch-black. Dumbledore was the only one who could put a stop to it."

Emily's eyes grew worried, she looked over her shoulder as well and her gaze landed on Mel.

"You think it could be the same thing that Ariana Dumbledore had? That disease?"

"No one knows what happened to her," Remus said. "Not even Matthew knew, and he was part of the family... but it could be. Maybe Dumbledore knows something we don't, maybe this will help her... perhaps she needs this."

Emily stayed silent for a moment, then she groaned.

"I hate that we're always meant to trust him blindly."

"He's lived a hundred years, he might be wiser than all of us, don't you think?"

The woman scoffed, she looked ahead, deep in thought.

"A hundred years... Matthew couldn't even make it to twenty-one! James and Lily barely did... Sirius spent twelve years in Azkaban — But at least we all knew how the war looked like then, Remus. We fought for years... my daughter just turned sixteen, she still goes to school!"

"And yet she's already done her fair amount of fighting," The man raised a brow. "We didn't have the experiences she's gone through when we were her age. I stand with Dumbledore, she can do this."

"I'm not saying she can't," Emily grabbed the empty plates to take them to the kitchen. "I'm saying she shouldn't have to sacrifice her youth. Dumbledore asks for too much, I'm sure he's got someone else that could help him with the mission, but he's obsessed with making Mel his perfect copy."

Remus didn't try to argue back, little could convince Emily at this point, she'd never been a fan of Dumbledore, and after Matt's death it was no secret that she openly disliked him, but she still followed his orders, because she knew Dumbledore was the only chance they had to win this war.

Mel and Erick entered the room, neither of them angry, which made Remus think they had reached an agreement.

"I should leave," The man stood up. "Leon's been quiet, maybe Harry managed to make him sleep."

"Or maybe he's just playing with him," Emily stood up as well. "Really, I never thought Harry would get so attached to a baby..."

"I'll miss you, Uncle Lu, I hope to see you soon," Mel said, her eyes avoiding to look into Erick's direction.

"Me too, little Em," Remus hugged her tightly, he whispered in her ear. "Be good to your mother, alright?"

Mel looked at him with confusion, but she nodded anyway.

"So?" Emily crossed her arms. "What are you going to do?"

The young witch stared at her mother, Remus knew that expression. It was true and very strange, how she could have her dad's gaze even though her eyes were exactly like her mother's, but he knew that look, he'd seen it in Matt the last time they had spoken. Mel was done being a kid.

Taglist.

@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @wlwmaximoff @reverse-hxlland @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee @thelastpyle @hamiltonwc

#twoidiots writing #hp fanfic #hp hidden moments #Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter xoc #WITT fic

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averylilyevans · 4 years

Text

it’s your life

i found this old post of mine recently and decided to give it a little update! i was so young when i wrote it, so i had some new ideas to freshen it up. naturally i did this instead of doing my organic post-lab. here it is!

first year is full of frustration and unfamiliarity and a twinge of homesickness. it’s being sorted into a different house than sev, being top of your year, being the one person potter seems to seek out most. it’s befriending marlene and dorcas and mary, staying up late at night while they tell you about all the wizarding world has to offer. it’s discovering quidditch (which you hate) and celestina warbeck (whom you love). it’s trying every candy that marlene’s older brother brings back from honeydukes and accidentally walking through the bloody baron.

second year is sending a tickling charm potter’s way after he calls sev “snevillus.” it’s your first detention directly after, too, and definitely worth it. it’s figuring out remus’ secret and not telling a soul - not even him for the longest - but you don’t care (how could you?) because it’s Remus we’re talking about. it’s helping mary with charms and dorcas with girls and marlene with waking up in the morning. it’s learning (and being awful at) wizards’ chess and turning your beetle into a button first try. it’s sev staring at you from the slytherin’s table and still being in awe of the great hall’s twinkling sky and always taking two helpings of treacle tart.

third year is hogsmeade and arithmancy and divination and potter asking you out for the first time (you not-so-politely decline). it’s spending the majority of october with your legs dangling in the great lake, your friends giggling next to you. it’s studying with sev in the library and trying not to notice the guilty look in his eye. it’s petunia writing to you even less than before because of some normal whale of a man named vernon. it’s sharing a butterbeer with sirius black in hogsmeade because you’ve lost your friends and really, they’ll be right back, but he insists and is actually quite funny and you think you’ve rather misjudged him. it’s going to the kitchens one night with remus, because it’s been a long day and the house elves always have hot chocolate.

fourth year is slug club parties and sneaking off with benji fawcett because parties aren’t your thing and sirius couldn’t make this one. it’s waking up the next morning to marlene telling you she’d run into potter and he was looking rather dejected (you ignore the guilt in your stomach; it’s only there a moment). it’s sitting with dorcas and mary at quidditch matches, watching potter soar through the air like a bird. it’s finally having the nerve to quit divination because crystal balls and prophecies are complete rubbish anyway. it’s thinking sev has been hanging out too much with mulciber and avery and malfoy but getting excuse after excuse in response. it’s trying your first sip of alcohol with dorcas and marlene at christmas, the burn in your throat masking your worry for sev.

fifth year is when all hell really breaks loose. it’s sev asking too many questions about remus and potter being more arrogant than ever before (that sodding snitch) and being so stressed because o.w.l.s are coming up and you have to show your worth. it’s threatening potter for threatening sev by the lake and that word - the one that haunts your brain and creeps into your nightmares. it’s knowing potter didn’t deserve what you said, because your sev is too far gone and in his place is a boy who doesn’t understand what he’s doing (you hope, you pray; the alternative is too much to bear). it’s not taking points away from the marauders even though you’re a prefect, and maybe you’re abusing your power but you can’t bring yourself to care. it’s drinking firewhiskey with marlene in empty classrooms and passing your exams with flying colors. it’s more “i hate you, potter”s and “back at you, evans”s than ever before, but the bite just isn’t there. it’s partnering with peter in potions because he’s absolutely dreadful and you get the sense he feels a little less than compared to his talented friends. it’s your dad getting sick and your world falling apart and sirius and that prank and why why why?

sixth year is regaining control and desperately trying to cling onto normalcy. it’s spending more time with mary and dorcas and marlene. it’s ignoring sev every time he comes around the corner trying to get your attention because you just can’t make excuses for him anymore. it’s going to potter’s house over break after sirius says he’s run away, and the three of you drinking and laughing until the sun comes up. it’s deciding maybe there’s worse things in life than arrogant boys with good intentions. it’s hours and hours of homework and studying because you’re taking more n.e.w.t.-level subjects than anyone knew existed. it’s knowing petunia won’t write you back but sending chocolates on her birthday just in case. it’s discovering the marauders’ secret - why they’re moony, wormtail, padfoot, and prongs - and laughing uncontrollably because they’re just so bloody brilliant. it’s brewing potions for fun and enjoying life instead of just existing. it’s eating breakfast with your friends and the marauders and ignoring the feeling in your stomach when james passes you the juice you like without asking. it’s learning to apparate and mary splinching herself and spending the rest of the evening with marlene and dorcas in the hospital wing. it’s a war brewing outside the castle walls; and when mcgonagall asks if you know what you’d like to do after hogwarts, she sees the fire in your emerald eyes and knows.

seventh year is being head girl and wishing severus hadn’t gone down that road and getting upset when your friends ask you if you like james (why does he have to look so bloody perfect all the time). it’s parties that last until midnight and tutoring scared first years and sneaking into honeydukes with james to get remus chocolates after a full moon. it’s singing at the top of your lungs with marlene and swimming in the great lake with mary. it’s thinking your chance with james is gone because he’s moved on and sirius giving you a look that says are you a bloody idiot? it’s dorcas holding you as you cry because another muggle family has been killed and you don’t know how much more you can take. it’s running out onto the pitch after gryffindor wins the cup and kissing james full on the mouth in front of the whole school because his lips look soft and he’s beautiful and courageous and kind and he feels like home and why have you fought this for so long? it’s ignoring the hurt look in severus’ eye as you make your way back to the castle, james’ strong arm wrapped around your shoulders. it’s flinching when petunia says she’d never make a freak like you her bridesmaid but bringing james to the wedding just to drive her mad. it’s being scared to leave hogwarts because after all these years it’s home, and you can’t imagine a day when your nights won’t end with your friends’ laughter by the fire.

graduating isn’t like coming up for fresh air. it isn’t a week before dumbledore is owling, asking if you lot would like to join the order of the phoenix. you train for only two weeks, learning curses you shouldn’t need to know even exist. now life is missions and green light whizzing by your head. it’s the three days when sirius went missing and james couldn’t sleep or eat and you finally found him inside an abandoned building chained to the wall. it’s dorcas being murdered by voldemort himself and remus going to live with the werewolves and marlene’s entire family being gone before you have time to mourn the others and everyone around you is dying. it’s seeing severus on the battlefield for the first time and not hesitating for a moment before sending a curse his way. it’s james looking over at you as he shields you both from a bright red light and says “marry me, evans.” it’s responding “are you mad? of course i will” like you aren’t literally in the middle of a bloody war. it’s going home and kissing him like your life depends on it, and you think to yourself that maybe it does. it’s the empty spots beside mary where dorcas and marlene should be and sirius’ best man speech moving you to tears. it’s coming face to face with voldemort twice and surviving. it’s finding out you’re pregnant and telling sirius first because you’re not even twenty yet and james is out on a mission and what are we supposed to do now? it’s remus and sirius never leaving your perfect little house in godric’s hallow, insisting on being together as much as possible. it’s secretly wondering what’s going on with peter, because he hasn’t come ‘round much and you’re worried but the boys dismiss your fears. it’s wanting to make a difference - for yourself and your husband and your friends - because this world isn’t one worth living in.

going into hiding is like giving up on everything you’ve fought for. it’s harry being born and wishing your mum was there, but james has never been so proud and the look on sirius’ face when you ask him to be the godfather makes everything worth it. it’s sitting on the couch, stroking the cat that wandered into your backyard. it’s listening to james talk to harry, telling him about all the mischief the marauders got into at school. it’s wishing you could go back to those days for a while. it’s feeling like the walls are caving in on you and wondering how this happened and sobbing into james’ chest. it’s him eyeing his cloak, and you knowing he wants to take it out more than anything. it’s wishing you had kept taking divination, because it’s not rubbish - it’s ruining your family. it’s switching your secret keeper to peter at the last minute, because sirius is too obvious and he means too much and if he got hurt for you, you don’t really know what you’d do (and you know james would never forgive himself). it’s regretting not listening to your gut when the front door bursts open. it’s knowing exactly what is going to happen when james yells at you to take harry and run. it’s not having enough time to tell him how much you love him, but you look into his hazel eyes and he knows, he knows; he’s always known. it’s hearing the love of your life hit the floor and trying to protect the baby that looks so much like him behind you. it’s standing tall and strong like you always have as you place harry in his crib, the footsteps closing in. it’s being confused as to why he’s asking you to stand aside but refusing anyway. it’s thinking of sirius and remus and mary and peter as the green light reaches you.

#harry potter #jily #marauders #marauders era #lily evans #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #mary macdonald

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jovialyouthmusic · 4 years

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Silver Service

We return to the hospital to monitor Anton’s condition, and Olivia visits Lucretia again. Liam makes Olivia an offer.

Word count 3542

A/N One of my characters tried to bail out while I was writing this, but I managed to bring her back. Odd how characters take over. No warnings, though it is a little dark - poisoning, threats, implied death of a character.

21 If only it were all simple.

‘Hello husband. You’ve been asking to see me, so here I am. Am I not worth a glance? A word?’ Anton struggled to open his eyes. He knew that voice – whose was it? He felt as if a ton weight sat on his chest, and his head was filled with a thick fog.

‘You had the gall to uphold the outdated concept of an arranged marriage. Even when you knew I wouldn’t honour it, you continued to expect me to capitulate. But Nevrakis never give in. You never had a chance of me being your wife or your Queen.’ It meant nothing to him. Nevrakis? Who was that? Queen? He fought harder. If only he could open his eyes he might be able to speak. If he could speak, maybe he could move…

‘Know this, Anton. Liam is ten times the man you are, and he and I will secure the future of Cordonia. I carry his heir, and I will never be yours. I’ll fight that to the last breath in my body, and Liam will stay by my side, whether he is King or not’

Fight to the last breath?

If you can breathe, you can stand, and if you can stand, you can fight.

The words echoed around his head as the mist cleared, and he drew all his strength together. Everything came flooding back to him.

She carried Liam’s child? When she was supposed to be his, promised to him from childhood – his bride who would rule Cordonia by his side. He forced his eyes open at last, taking in the sight of his betrothed sitting beside him, and with a superhuman effort his hand shot out and he gripped her wrist. He was rewarded by the look of astonishment and alarm in her eyes.

Then that bastard spawn of the usurper Constantine ruined it all, snatching her arm away from him. Something was happening in his chest – squeezing, crushing pain. He fought for breath as Liam and Olivia were pushed away by medical staff.

Was this a heart attack? Why did his head hurt too, throbbing with his heartbeat? He was in the right place, that was certain. This was a hospital, and he was surrounded by doctors. His arm went into spasm, followed by his whole body tensing and stiffening for a moment before going limp, and something happened in his head, something hot which spread outward. He couldn’t move – nothing – not his arms, his legs, his hands, he could not speak or swallow or breathe. The pain increased and terror gripped him. His eyes were the only thing that obeyed his will, and they widened and fixed on one of the doctors, pleading. He seemed to float above his body, looking down as he watched the medics tending to him – able to feel everything, see everything, hear everything – but he could do nothing, make no sound, no movement… then everything went black.

------

Bastien sat beside Anton’s bed. He was as he had been before the King’s visit – alive but not conscious. The difference was that he had suffered a massive heart attack and some strange seizure after which he had to be intubated so he could breathe.

Lucretia had refused to elaborate on the nature of the poison that had been mixed in with the mussel extract that triggered Anton’s allergic reaction. All they knew was that it was a rare Lythican herb whose effects were subsequently unknown.

The swelling on Anton’s brain had subsided, but a head scan had revealed that a clot had migrated there from the one that caused his heart attack, depriving certain areas of oxygen despite his constant monitoring. Only a specialist could even guess at the results of that deprivation, but it was highly unlikely that Anton would recover and be the man he had been before.

Grimly, Bastien surveyed Anton’s features, again slack and unresponsive. If he never regained any cognition, he wouldn’t get closure from the man who had arranged the kidnap of his soulmate, assaulted her and plotted the murder of Lady Adelaide. In Bastien’s mind, those plans almost overshadowed his scheme to gain the throne of Cordonia and most likely rule as a despot far worse than Constantine. At least his former employer had maintained a semblance of benevolence and kindness to his subjects, despite doing things behind the scenes that Bastien still deeply regretted helping him to execute. He had the feeling that Anton’s reign would have been far worse, and he would have fled the country rather than serve him. Who knows whether Anton would have insisted on his loyalty or had him disposed of?

He decided that he didn’t feel the need to talk to Anton. If he had some level of cognition, he was suffering sufficiently. If he was unconscious in every sense of the word, it was pointless. He had already made him regret hurting Sophia, and Drake for Riley. This near vegetative state would atone as revenge for Lady Adelaide, and for Liam and Olivia. He rose from his seat and left the room, nodding to Paulos, the guard at the door, who stood to attention as he emerged.

‘As you were, son. You know the drill – no unscheduled visitors, and only staff that are on the approved list. If there’s an emergency, then any medical staff can be admitted. If you feel the need to observe him at any point, it must be with an approved member of staff. No single visitors or members of staff to be admitted apart from myself or the King. Have you got that?’

‘Yes Sir’ Bastien clapped him on the shoulder.

‘Good man. Contact Lewis in the first instance if you need to, or myself if he’s not available’ Bastien walked steadily away from Anton’s room without the aid of his cane, making for the SUV to go back to the Palace.

------

‘So in conclusion, Lord Severus is in a serious but stable condition.’ Liam said, looking into the TV camera lens in a statement to the nation from his office at the Palace. ‘I feel that he would not wish for us to cancel or postpone any Royal events, and were he able to speak for himself, he would applaud our continuing efforts to raise funds for deserving causes in Lythikos. Duchess Olivia herself has sponsored a brand new intensive care unit in the Lythos General Hospital in the hope that those needing specialist treatment in the Duchy would not lose valuable time having to be transported to the main Capitol Hospital.’ He looked down at his desk ‘Should there be any major change in Lord Severus’s condition I will be informed and will make any relevant decisions as needed’

‘And cut’ the director called ‘Thankyou your Majesty, this will be broadcast shortly’ The TV crew started to pack their things away, and Liam ran his fingers through his hair.

‘Thankyou for your professionalism’ he smiled graciously ‘It’s always a pleasure to work with you’ He hoped that his statement would soften the blow of Lucretia’s publicised confession to poisoning Anton. The popularity of Lythikos within Cordonia was seesawing wildly at the moment, and he intended for everything to end up with popular opinion firmly on Olivia’s side as the wronged Duchess, forced into a marriage she didn’t want and brought up by a ruthless and unfeeling relative. The week or so spent openly in her company would go some way toward softening her image ready for him to announce that she carried his heir.

Day by day it looked increasingly unlikely that Anton would ever be in a fit state to rule the country. CT scans had shown irreversible brain and nerve damage that meant he would at the very least be paralysed from the neck down, and at worst might never regain consciousness. Liam’s archivists and lawyers assured him that being fit to rule was an absolute necessity for any candidate to the throne. He wondered if part of his father’s reason for concealing his illness had been simply to remain in power as long as he could.

Now it was time for him to go to Lythikos for the charity snow sports. Nobles and commoners alike would compete for trophies in skiing, skating, bobsleighing and other events. Nobles would pay for the privilege of competing, and sponsorship for commoners had been invited from local and national businesses. Tickets were on sale to view the event and there would be a winter fair at which medals would be awarded, followed by a Ball at Olivia’s Lodge. Locals were already calling it the ‘Lytholympics’. There would be something to suit every pocket, and people would flock to the Duchy from all over Cordonia now that the King had announced that it was going ahead despite the attempt on Anton’s life.

Olivia was waiting for him in his private lounge, her bags packed ready to leave for her home duchy. She looked tired but a little less pale. Liam went up to her and she offered her cheek for a kiss. He was tempted to hug her, but held back. He didn’t want to crowd her. Instead he took her hands in his and squeezed them.

‘Chin up Livvy, it looks increasingly likely that Anton won’t be in a position to complete his challenge’ She smiled wanly.

‘I wish I could be certain’ she said fiercely. ‘Perhaps I should pay one last visit to my aunt before we go’

‘Only if you feel up to it’ Liam said softly ‘But if you think it would bring you closure, I’m right behind you. We have an hour or two to spare.’ She took a deep breath and stood straight.

‘I think I am, but I’d like to talk to her alone. You can come, but stay outside. We can take the limo to the cottage and then go straight off to Lythikos’

‘Of course. I’ll let Bastien know’

Half an hour or so later, Olivia sat in her aunt’s lounge, waiting for Lucretia. She appeared, but Olivia remained seated.

‘Niece’ the older woman said, sitting in an easy chair beside the fireplace. ‘Will you take tea?’

‘No thankyou’ she said shortly ‘A glass of water will be sufficient. I hope I can trust you not to add any herbal extracts to it’

‘Of course not’ her aunt snorted ‘You’re mother to the royal heir, and Nevrakis only hope of going forward into the future. I did what I did to ensure your wellbeing’ Olivia raised her eyebrow to that but didn’t reply. ‘So what do you want, my dear?’

‘I won’t beat around the bush. I need to know if Anton is likely to recover his senses and make his claim to the throne’

‘Is that all?’

‘Isn’t it enough?’ A maid came in with a tray and set it down on the coffee table. Olivia’s eyes flicked to the teapot and a plate of Lythican spiced cookies.

‘Bring some tap water would you?’ her aunt demanded ‘I’ll pour my own tea’ She did so, and Olivia gritted her teeth waiting. The maid came back with water, and Lucretia sipped her tea.

‘He’ll not recover’ she replied at last. ‘He’s paralysed, I take it?’ Olivia nodded ‘He will remain so, but how long he lingers depends on his constitution. Most who have been – treated in this way never speak again, and generally the poison causes a lingering death.’

‘Generally?’ Olivia asked

‘Oh don’t worry my dear - what I meant was that death is certain, but how swiftly it comes varies - as I said.’

‘Will you reveal what herb it is?’

‘Oh no dear, to be frank I don’t know. Only my herbalist does, and even the identity of that person is unknown to me, as is traditional. You are sadly lacking in certain aspects of Lythican folklore, my girl. But don’t fret, all will be passed on to you in the fullness of time. I look forward to seeing you ascend the throne’

‘I’ll not ask for that’ Olivia said, thin lipped ‘I don’t wish to be Queen. What I do want is that Liam is happy, and he has agreed that by me bearing the heir, he will be content’ Lucretia frowned

‘Not want to be Queen? Are you insane, girl? If you just act like a human incubator, who’s to say he won’t take your child away? He could discard you once he has his heir, and take another woman. Who’s to say he hasn’t made the same arrangement with other women, and promised them the same?’ Olivia’s eyes grew wide.

‘Liam’s not like that’ she said in a low voice ‘He’s not like his father – he’s gentle and caring’

‘Do you think he’ll stay the same with the weight of the crown on his head?’ Lucretia scoffed ‘Power corrupts, and he is his father’s son. He was not raised to be King, and he has barely had time to adjust to his new role. Demand to be the Queen you should be, Olivia. Hold the King to ransom – refuse him your child. Shut yourself off, close the borders of Lythikos or flee to exile if he refuses.’ She leaned forward, stabbing a forefinger at her niece to make her point. ‘You know you would be Queen if he becomes incapable of ruling, and that would be so very easy for me to arrange’

‘Are you threatening to do the same to Liam as you did to Anton?’ Olivia gasped. ‘What sort of monster are you?’

‘The monster that will fulfil the ambition of our family’ she replied ‘If you won’t make sure of your accession to the throne, I will’

‘I’ll see to it that you don’t’ Olivia hissed ‘You won’t meddle in my life any longer, you old witch’ Lucretia sat back and smiled, and Olivia rose with dignity and left the room.

---------

Liam was waiting for her outside the cottage. She was tight lipped and pale with rage.

‘Lets get out of this place’ she said ‘Let’s go to Lythikos’ She made for the car, and Liam followed her. She sat back in the seat, letting her head drop back against the leather headrest and closing her eyes, her hand going protectively to her belly. Liam sat back too, but remained silent for a while. He wanted to know what had her riled up, and the sooner the better, to help her to calm down. As the limo swept out of the Palace gates onto the main road, he leaned forward to close the security screen between them and the driver and switched off the intercom, a red light showing its status. He turned to Olivia as she opened her eyes and looked at him in query.

‘Tell me what she said, Livvy. No-one can hear us, it’s just us’ Olivia swallowed and turned her head to him.

‘You need to put her under maximum security’ she said, her gaze urgent ‘No contact with anyone outside, not even her lawyer. She got a message out though her before and god knows what other tricks she has up her sleeve’

‘Why Livvy, what danger does she pose? Can she have Anton wake up?’

‘No’ she said shortly. ‘Death is certain, though she couldn’t say when’

‘She said something about the end of the week’ Liam replied. He inclined his head and reached out for her hand. ‘That’s not all, is it?’ She shook her head

‘It’s only fair to tell you that she threatened to do the same to you’ Liam felt the colour drain from his face, and she made a hollow laugh ‘After all, if anything happens to you now, I become Queen’

‘You said you didn’t want that’ Liam said levelly. She tutted in exasperation

‘I don’t.’ she said, and raised her green eyes to his ‘I only want you to be happy’ He took a deep breath.

‘What if you were Queen?’ he asked ‘would she back off then?’ Olivia blinked, and stared at him.

‘What if I…’ her voice trailed off ‘I - I don’t know’ she said simply, then started again ‘What do you mean?’

‘If I made you Queen, she’d have no reason to have me assassinated’

‘I – who knows what goes on in that bitch’s mind? But Liam…’ she protested.

‘If it would put your mind at rest, stop you worrying, I’d do it’ he said ‘Why not? You can do as much or as little as you like, and we’d be together to bring up our child. When Leo abdicated, I expected to be forced into marrying Madeleine, with a Cordonian arrangement.’

‘I can’t believe you just said that’ Olivia said, aghast ‘After all we’ve been through’ She turned away from him, biting her knuckle. He was sure that if they’d not been in the limo on their way to Lythikos, she would have slapped him or stormed out.

‘Hear me out, Livvy’ he said ‘You’ve – well you’ve changed since you fell pregnant. You’re – you’re softer.’ He struggled for words. ‘I don’t look at other women the same. Or men, for that matter. You’re carrying my child. I just want to keep you both safe.’ She turned to him, fire in her eyes

‘So I’m just a human incubator to you – that’s what Lucretia said’

‘No Livvy, that’s not it’ he said ‘It’s more than that. We have a connection, always have had, but Father tried his best to break it. Now he’s gone, I realise. I’d never do anything to hurt you’ he said.

‘You say that now’ she said ‘But you have a country to run. I’ll never be more important than that’

‘Then help me to do it’ he said simply. She stared at him

‘I never wanted that’ she said ‘Leo was going to be King, and we – I always thought that we’d have some sort of relationship, even if I was just one of many’ He sighed

‘And I never expected to be King, you know that. Livvy, you and Drake are my oldest friends. It looks like Drake is involved with Riley – I don’t know how long he’ll stay. He came back from America for me, I can’t ask him to sacrifice his happiness for me’

‘And you can ask me?’ she said

‘But you said you wanted me to be happy’ he pointed out. ‘What would make me happy is to have a loving family, and we’re halfway there. Being King is – well of course it will be my duty for my country to come first – but whatever is left over is yours, and our child’s’ He smiled ‘I won’t have time for lovers, I’ve realised that.’

‘What if I want lovers?’ she said shortly. His face dropped. She felt cruel for asking him, but the question bubbled up and was out of her mouth before she could stop it – typical Nevrakis hot headedness, she told herself.

‘I would hope I would be enough – but if you did…’ he looked out of the window at the passing scenery. ‘I don’t know Livvy, it’s too early to say. Who knows what life will bring.’ She relented, taking his hand, wanting to banish the hurt in his eyes.

‘I’m sorry, that was callous of me. We should focus on the baby, and what he or she needs. I think we’ll both have enough on our plates being parents.’ She paused. ‘Liam, have you made any arrangement like this with anyone else?’ he stared at her

‘No, of course not’ he replied, shocked.

‘I have to ask. Lucretia brought it up’ His jaw tightened at her words.

‘She’s been pouring poison into your ears. Just what else did she say?’ Olivia closed her eyes in thought. She related everything to him as the limo made its way along the increasingly steep roads. Anger rose in him as he heard what the old woman thought of him.

‘I’d never take your child away from you.’ He said earnestly. ‘I’m determined not to follow my father’s example. I can have Lucretia locked away in maximum security if it would make you feel better. My feeling is that she would do anything to get you on the throne, and probably more to keep you there. I’m superfluous to her. She only cares about getting your family on the throne, with or without me.’ Olivia nodded reluctantly

‘I know. Once I was on the throne, who’s to say she wouldn’t try to have you assassinated?’

‘Livvy’ he said, taking her hand and squeezing it. ‘You know how many attempts there have been over the years. If it wasn’t her, it would be someone else. I’m still at risk no matter what. At least if she was locked away it would make it difficult for her and she’d be a known threat’ Olivia twisted her hands in her lap and sighed

‘I’m exhausted’ she said ‘I’m going to try and get some sleep. We can talk later.’

‘Okay Livvy. But I’m serious – I’d make you my Queen to make both our lives easier’ A faint smile crossed Olivia’s lips as she settled back.

‘I don’t doubt your sincerity, Liam’ she said ‘I’ll think about it’

@sirbeepsalot @stopforamoment @drakesensworld @katedrakeohd @texaskitten30 @be-still-my-aching-heart @hopefulmoonobject @dcbbw @classylady1234 @rainbowsinthestorm @kimmiedoo5 @bascmve01 @ibldw-main @addictedtodrakefanfic @trappedinfandoms @ravenpuff02

#silver service #king liam #liam x olivia #protect and serve #bastien lykel #lucretia nevrakis #olivia nevrakis

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inmyownlittlecorner5 · 4 years

Text

Moonlight Chapter 18: Romanian Holiday

A fanfic Novel by la-topolina

Rated for Mature Audiences

Warnings: Language, Violence, Sexual Content

Chapter 18/26

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter Seventeen+

Chapter Nineteen+ >>

It was Monday morning before Severus finally arrived at the Merry Cemetery in Săpânța, spinning into sight alongside a stout Frenchman and his sharp-featured wife. Severus’s stomach lurched as he landed, and his entire body ached from the Cruciatus that the Dark Lord had cursed him with two nights earlier. It might have been wiser to have stayed at Hogwarts for another day before traveling but he did not care to put himself in Albus’s sight line longer than necessary. Sunday’s dressing down over the Potter fiasco was as much as he wished to endure.

“You came!” Miranda said, her smile bright as the morning sun that was beating down on him.

“I said that I would,” he replied tersely, muscles tensing as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her warm lips against his. They were enticing, and tasted pleasantly of coffee and cream, but he could feel the French witch’s curious eyes watching, ruining the pleasure that he would usually have taken in such a gesture. Thankfully, Miranda kept her greeting short, releasing him and putting a respectable distance between them.

“I know you did. But I thought you might chicken out in the end. You kept putting me off.”

“There was nothing to be done about the demands on my attention,” he said defensively. “Perhaps I have been spending so much time around you that your bad habits are beginning to affect me. Aren’t you the one who is constantly tardy?”

“I guess I am,” she allowed. “Well, you’re here now, that’s the important thing.” She grabbed his hand and started pulling him along, pointing at the garishly painted grave markers. “Have you ever seen anything like this?”

His stomach was still reeling from the covert French port-key trip—why Miranda had connections to an illegal international port-key he had decided not to ask—and a headache was beginning to bloom between his eyes.

“No,” he answered, his hand limp in her tight grip. He felt completely disoriented; the sun was too high in the sky, the air smelled like fecund earth instead of like the sea, and a riot of blues, reds, and greens assaulted his eyes. His corner of Hogwarts was a sober gray and black, predictable and constant. This place hummed with a promise of the unexpected, and Severus knew that at any moment the Mark on his arm or the mirror in his pocket would demand his attention, ending this ill-advised venture before it even began.

She stopped in front of one of the markers and mercifully dropped his hand.

“Mental note, no hand holding,” she said under her breath before explaining, “All of these were painted by one man, his pet project. Aren’t they beautiful?”

Severus studied the image of a young man in old-fashioned dress riding a bicycle. The somewhat amateurish portrait was bordered by doves, poppies, and that bright blue that was the theme throughout the strange graveyard.

“If by beautiful, you mean garishly morbid,” he commented.

“That too. I thought you’d like them. The artist even wrote a little verse about how each person died. This fellow met with a knife, if you can believe it.”

“Charming.”

“When I get back to Edgewood, I’m going to try to talk Papa into doing this in our family plot.”

“Somehow that does not surprise me.”

“Mine will say something like, ‘Here lies Miranda, she was cut in two by a werewolf’s bite. Pray for her soul, lest she gnash her teeth with those who’ll never see the light.”

“That is a terrible rhyme.”

“How nice of you to say so. Yours will say ‘Here lies Severus, he died an ass. Now kindly take your tears off his plot of grass.’”

A smile tugged at his lips in spite of all of his worries. “Fitting. Although I fail to see how I will come to be buried in your family’s graveyard.”

“No, of course not,” she said quickly. “I’m sure English earth will be the final place for you.”

“Obviously.”

“Listen, maybe this was a bad idea. If you’d feel more comfortable back home, you can just take the port-key back. I’ll understand.”

Why on earth had she said that? He finally looked at her and, while she was still smiling faintly, there was a tension around her lips and the brightness of her eyes had clouded over.

“I am here, aren’t I?”

“Yes, but I get the feeling you’d rather not be. I don’t understand it myself, but I do know that not everyone likes to travel. My mother and my brother Finn hate it. I just wanted you to have a chance to relax, and if this isn’t the right place for you to do that, then maybe you’d better go somewhere else where you can.”

He let his eyes wander back to the exotic grave marker. It was true that this vacation of his was an unnecessary risk. While he was not a coward, his life currently involved so much risk, that taking on more seemed like the highest form of idiocy. He wasn’t sure exactly why he’d agreed to come in the first place. Was a petulant act of independence or the pleasure of Miranda’s company really worth it? It made far more sense for him to turn around and go back the way he had come.

Just as he was about to concede her point, a group of plants growing out of the unfortunate bicyclist’s resting place caught his eye. They were shy things, struggling up amid the otherwise neatly kept rows of graves. He wondered why the caretaker had let them be, they were so gangly. But their hairy leaves and sweet, purple flowers were reaching up to the sun, determined to live in spite of their deathly surroundings.

“Lamium maculatum,” he murmured, as though greeting an old friend. Pomona had some growing in the staff greenhouse, and it had been one of the keys to unlocking the anti-venom that had saved Arthur’s life.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Severus’s stomach had finally settled and, while his headache had not disappeared, it hadn’t grown any worse either. He took Miranda’s hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm, taking his decision.

“{It seems a waste not to stay after I have spent so much time learning the language,}” he remarked.

The lines of tension around her lips softened into a real smile, and the light in her eyes came out from behind the clouds. Although he called himself a fool for thinking it, in that moment he felt that all of the uncertainty and discomfort was worth it if it pleased her so.

“{I agree. What would you like to see first?}”

******

Miranda stretched luxuriously and propped herself up on her elbow in order to study her sleeping companion more closely. It was unusual for her to wake before Severus and, when she did, she liked to take advantage of the opportunity to observe him without his practiced reserve in the way. In sleep, the marks of care and displeasure that marred his countenance were missing. She wouldn’t say that he looked exactly innocent, but he looked striking, and really rather handsome.

She didn’t have much time to admire him this morning, though. He didn’t know it yet, but they were due at Vasile Ursu’s within the hour, and it was time to wake him and break the news. Yesterday had been such a lark, between showing him the sights of Săpânța, and exploring the natural treasures of the Rodna mountains where she’d pitched her tent, that she hadn’t found the time to mention this other project. She laid a finger between his eyes and started tracing his nose lightly, suppressing a laugh when his nose started twitching. After a moment of this, his hand snapped up, catching hers in its grip.

“And what torture do you have planned for me this morning?” he rumbled without opening his eyes.

“Me torture you? I should be the one complaining. I think I was very indulgent to let you drag me around all afternoon and evening looking at weeds and wildflowers.”

“It was research.”

“You’re on vacation.”

“You said you wanted me to relax. Research is how I relax.”

“I’m glad to hear that, because I have a job for you.”

He opened one eye and arched an eyebrow at her. “Et tu, Brute? I had thought that you were the one person in the world who wanted to have me around simply for the pleasure of my company. Now I find you only wish to use me.”

“I like you for many reasons, Severus, and you know it. Besides, I thought it might amuse you to help a damsel in distress.”

He let out a bark of laughter and nipped her wrist. “You are the furthest thing from a damsel in distress that I’ve ever met, and I shudder to think what you might require my assistance to accomplish. I must insist on tea before I hear whatever your mad idea is.”

“{You are late, Doamnă Rose,}” Vasile said when she and Severus arrived on his doorstep an hour later. But he smiled fondly at her and kissed her cheeks. “{I was beginning to give up hope.}”

“{You should know that I’m usually late. It’s one of my many flaws, I’m afraid,}” Miranda replied, returning his embrace. “{And Severus wouldn’t go anywhere this morning until he’d had his tea. English, you know.}” Severus glowered at her and she grinned back at him. “{Vasile, this is Severus Snape, the Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Severus, Vasile Ursu, the Solomnar of Maramures.}”

The men shook hands briefly, sizing each other up like a pair of fighting occamys.

“{This way, if you please, best not to be loitering in doorways,}” Vasile said, leading them over the rock hewn staircase and into a narrow tunnel. The low ceiling was lit with incandescent stones at regular intervals, and their feet echoed as they descended into the cave.

“{You will have studied with Horace Slughorn, then?}” Vasile asked with the air of a professor examining his student.

“{Yes. And with Nadia Angouleme. I completed my masterwork under her.}”

“{Ah, Nadia.} ‘C'est un songe que d'y penser.’” Vasile’s voice was a dreamy sigh for an instant before he came back to the interrogation. “{Good. Then you know what you are doing. Nadia does not suffer fools. What was your master-potion?}”

“Suspension de l’incrédulité. {Its purpose was to enable the imbiber to master flying spells more easily.}”

“{And you were successful?}”

Miranda’s attention was riveted on Severus. He had never mentioned either this project, or flying spells to her before.

“{Yes,}” Severus answered. “{Although it was a primitive attempt. Too much mercury. Many…undesirable side effects.}”

“{Your most recent project?}”

“{An universal anti-venom.}”

The corridor came to a divide, one path leading downward and the other curving away in a gentle incline. Vasile led them on the upward path, which was brightly lit by a row of torches that ignited as they passed by. Portraits of witches and wizards with narrow, stylized faces snored gently on their shelves, although a few shook themselves awake long enough to observe the new-comers. One dangerous looking fellow even had the audacity to wink at Miranda, but they did not linger long enough for conversation.

“{How did you solve the mistletoe problem?}”

“{Tumeric added at each stage of preparation.}”

“{Nicely done.}”

A rush of fresh air blew past them as their path opened into a domed cavern, and Miranda was surprised to see sunlight streaming in through a skylight cut in the ceiling. She had not thought that they had climbed high enough in the cave to be this close to the surface, but the blue sky was clearly visible, and the breeze felt and smelled too real to be an enchantment. The skylight was placed above a circle of leather cushions and low chairs that were equipped with portable writing desks, parchment, quills, and bottles of ink. The enormous walls were fitted from bottom to top with bookshelves carved directly into the stone, and books of all shapes, sizes, and conditions were crammed in every available nook and cranny. Miranda was a little disappointed that they did not pause in this wonderful room, but passed through it to another chamber.

This chamber also sported high ceilings and skylights, although they were slits rather than true windows. Numerous floating candles flamed to life upon their entrance, reflecting off row upon row of neatly labeled jars, beakers, bowls, cauldrons, and other well-kept equipment. The supplies sat proudly on their fancifully carved wooden shelves, waiting like chessmen to be brought out to play. Across from this bounty was an L-shaped table, one half wood, and one stone; the perfect height for standing while working. Miranda was impressed that the floor near this workspace had a springy give to it, which must be a mercy one’s feet and legs during long hours of brewing.

“{Doamnă Rose has explained why you are here?}” Vasile asked, rolling up the sleeves of his embroidered peasant shirt.

“{Yes,}” Severus replied, quickly removing his frock coat. He hung it on a hook near the door and rolled up his own shirtsleeves, greedily eyeing the contents of the shelves all the while.

“{Then we’d best get started.}”

Vasile waved his hand and a fire started under one end of the stone table, while a small waterfall began flowing under the other side of it. Severus raised and eyebrow and curiously ran his hand along the top of the stone, studying the cauldron-shaped inserts that were carved at regular intervals.

“{One end is made for heating and the other for cooling,}” Vasile explained.

“{The stone must conduct the temperature immediately,}” Severus observed. “{But how do you prevent the cauldrons from cracking?}”

“{They are tempered first. I can show you how when we finish if you would like.}”

“{I would.}”

Jars and bottles began floating from their places and setting themselves expectantly on the wooden table.

“{Three chopping boards,}” Severus muttered as he studied the wooden table more closely.

“{Yes, wood for most things, marble for what must remain cold, salamander leather for what must stay hot,}” Vasile explained quickly as he fished ingredients out of jars and set them on the table. “{Three Rhodiola, two swift eggs, a seven inch piece of young horntail claw. Dice it, please.}”

Severus produced his favorite knife from some pocket and started dicing the claw into perfectly matched pieces as he ordered, “Miranda, take dictation.”

She had expected this, and had already made herself at home in a bearskin covered armchair that had appeared near the work tables. She pulled a large, leather-bound book from her bag and positioned it atop one of the portable writing desks. By the time she had her quills and ink bottles floating beside her, the men were on to the next step, but she wrote quickly in her clear, even hand, and soon she was apace with them. Her mother had insisted that all of the Rose children learn decent penmanship and Severus had once remarked that he preferred to read notes written in Miranda’s handwriting than his own. This admission had pleased her inordinately and, while she had no intention of becoming Severus’s private secretary, she did not mind taking notes for him from time to time.

Although Miranda did not care for making potions herself, she did enjoy watching Severus brew. He was in his element, and his movements were quick and sure. When he was fully engaged in his task, something wonderful happened to his face. It was focused and excited rather than censorious and worn. Sometimes, as he did now, he would tie back his hair, which made him appear younger than he did with it hanging in his face. She thought that it suited him, but she kept this opinion to herself. That black curtain of hair probably served as a convenient shield, hiding his thoughts from the world. And he had so much to hide.

By the end of the day, Miranda’s shoulders ached and her hand was cramped from all the writing. It had been difficult to translate the instructions from Romanian to English as quickly as Vasile spoke. There were several times that she’d had to explain some of Vasile’s colloquialisms to Severus, making all three of them impatient. When Vasile had finally proclaimed that they had completed enough work to be satisfactory, Miranda was more than happy to stretch her legs and explore the bookshelves in the larger cavern while the men tidied the potions room.

Vasile was a stern taskmaster, but he was also an excellent host. When the potions room had been put to bed for the night, he led his guests all the way down to his private quarters. These were nestled in the heart of the cave, cool and quiet. They were well furnished with comfortable chairs, amusing books and games, and ample light for reading. A hearty dinner of sarmale and minciunele was waiting for them, laid out by unseen hands, and Vasile entertained them with more of the fanciful folktales that Miranda found so fascinating. After dinner, the three of them played several rounds of tablă, which Vasile won handily, but he also soothed the blow with an excellent bottle of mastícă.

Severus and Vasile soon dominated the conversation, exchanging stories of nightmare students and commiserating about the difficulties of teaching. It was amusing to listen to them, particularly since Severus could be quite verbose when he wanted to be. At some point, he absently reached over to massage the aches out of her writing hand, and then flicked her hand with some practiced maneuver, which immediately cured the pains in her wrist that had been caused by the day’s work. The pine-scented liqueur and the warmth from the fire encouraged a pleasant sense of well-being that spread through Miranda’s body, and she settled herself cozily in her chair to enjoy the company. Eventually she felt her eyes growing heavy, and she did not realize she had fallen asleep until Severus’s hand on her shoulder startled her awake.

“{My apologies, Doamnă Rose,}” Vasile was saying. “{I should have noted the hour. I will need you again tomorrow, but I believe we will be able to finish our task then.}”

“Are you able to walk, or will I be forced to carry you?” Severus asked in English, a teasing gleam flickering in the depths of his dark eyes.

“Is that an offer?” Miranda replied.

“I suppose. But I will throw you over my shoulder and I doubt you will enjoy it.”

“Promises, promises.” She let him pull her to her feet and gave Vasile a parting embrace. “{Goodnight, Domnul Ursu. We’ll be back in the morning.}”

When the pair of them were out of the cave and walking through the cool, spring night, Miranda turned to Severus and asked, “So, about that flying potion. Did you ever get it to work?”

He smiled mysteriously at her and replied, “Yes and no. Perhaps I might be convinced to show it to you someday.”

“I’m sure I can make it worth your while. I know you’d like to learn how to do some of the smoke magic.”

“That is true. I should think that we will be able to come to an arrangement to our mutual satisfaction.”

*****

On Thursday evening Severus sat in a transfigured armchair in Miranda’s tent, perusing the notes for the Changeover Potion, and feeling mentally and physically sated in a way that he rarely achieved. This potion was a welcome challenge, and the time working with Domnul Ursu had stretched Severus’s mind, giving him a plethora of ideas for his own projects and for his workspaces at Hogwarts. Miranda sat tailor-style on the bed, weaving a length of unicorn hair into a fine net, and it was a pleasure to watch her graceful movements as she worked. A disobedient voice in the back of Severus’s mind was whispering that, if he liked, there was no reason for him to return to Hogwarts the next day. He could stay here in this tent with Miranda, like Merlin in Nimue’s cave. Since he knew that he wouldn’t stay, he felt free to indulge in this fantasy, and the idea of staying with Miranda, either in Romania or in Britain, grew more appealing to him with each passing day.

“Aren’t you glad you came?” Miranda asked smugly as she looped and knotted her net.

“I suppose it would be a lie to say otherwise,” he replied.

“And nothing bad even happened.”

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that yet. There are a few hours left before I return home, after all. Around you that is enough time for the world to end. Chaos follows ever on your heels.”

“I think that you need a little chaos.” She bent her head over a complicated part of her weaving and added, “If you come back in the summer, we can go to Bucharest and see an opera.”

Several sarcastic quips automatically leapt to Severus’s mind at this suggestion, but he took an effort to refrain from letting them out of his mouth. He ran his fingers over the beautiful lines of potion notes that Miranda had taken for him, admiring their form.

After a moment, he glanced up from the book and said honestly, “I should like that very much.”

There had not been many occasions in Severus’s life where another person had looked at him with such delight as Miranda did now, and he felt his ears heat up with embarrassment at the sentimental emotion that was growing in his chest. He cleared his throat awkwardly and added, “That is, assuming that you do not manage to get yourself killed on these ridiculous quests.”

She laughed lightly and went back to her net. “Oh, it’s just bird catching and flower picking. How hard is that?”

“As I recall, dragon riding is part of the second task.”

“It is, but I’m getting much better at it. By the time June gets here, I’ll be an expert.”

“I still do not understand why this ordeal is being dragged out for so long. Why on earth can’t you retrieve the children now?”

“They aren’t in any immediate danger. And we can’t even get to them until the veil between the worlds is thin enough. That won’t be until October.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I’m not surprised, but that’s how it is.” She smiled slyly at him and turned the subject. “When you see him tomorrow, tell Malfoy that I miss him.”

“I think I shall not mention that to him, if it is all the same to you. When will you be coming back in May?”

“Whenever Rachel’s baby comes. I’m godmother, remember?”

“I remember. I’m surprised you were able to convince Lucius to wait for that.”

“Aaron was the one who convinced him. Actually, I think Aaron convinced Narcissa, who took care of Lucius. I guess she is understanding after all. I assume that the answer is no, but do you want to come to the baptism? There’ll be a little party at the Lees’ afterwards.”

“It is entirely possible that I will be struck by lightening if I set foot inside of a church, but I suppose it is a risk that I would be willing to take.”

“I understand, of course you wouldn’t want to… Wait a minute, did you just agree to come?”

Her head snapped up and Severus chuckled softly at the shocked expression on her face. He so rarely managed to catch Miranda off guard, and he treasured the moments when it happened.

“I am aware that being a godparent is an important honor. And I do find your friends tolerable, surprising as that may seem,” he chided.

She opened and closed her mouth more than once, and that charming blush bloomed on her cheeks. “I should tell you that Arthur and Molly Weasley are going to be there too. Arthur is acting as proxy godfather because Aaron’s brother can’t make it over from the States. I know we’re trying to keep things quiet, so I understand if that changes your mind.”

“That does complicate things slightly.”

“I may have mentioned to Arthur that we were seeing each other, though.”

“Did you?”

“It just popped out, he’s so friendly. But he seemed to understand that it was important to keep it under his hat.”

Severus frowned, mulling this over in his mind. In some ways, he would prefer the world to know that he was capable of holding the interest of a woman like Miranda, and his irritation over her carelessness was tempered by his excellent mood.

“Arthur does know how to keep his mouth shut,” he admitted. “Perhaps better than certain persons in this tent. I will think about it.”

“Speaking of secrets, you’re not supposed to know what I’m doing here. So if Albus, or anyone else asks, I never told you anything.”

“If Albus or anyone else asks, I was never here.”

She set down the net and flexed her fingers, grimacing as though they hurt, and he set the book of notes aside in order to take her hands in his.

“If I can tell that your hands are cold, they must be frozen solid,” he remarked, bringing her chilled fingers to his lips.

Somehow this gesture led to her sitting on his lap, running her hands through his hair. Their kisses were lazy, and while he hadn’t thought he had the energy for another round of that sort of recreation this evening, her delicious sighs were convincing him that he might be persuaded otherwise.

She had just started toying with the buttons on his shirt when she stiffened in his arms and jerked her head away from his, listening intently.

“What is it?” he asked, and she laid a finger over his lips.

With a snap, all of the lights in the tent went out and she tapped on his cheek with her finger:

THERE IS SOMETHING OUTSIDE PUT YOUR SHOES ON

She slid off his lap and he pulled on his shoes while she quickly laced on her boots. He retrieved his wand from the table while she crept to the door, peering out of the glass for and endless string of moments. When she was satisfied, she padded back to him and tapped on his hand:

PRICOLICI 5 OF THEM

He tapped back:

WHAT ARE THOSE

She explained:

PART VAMPIRE PART WEREWOLF PART ZOMBIE THINGS

Merlin, could nothing be simple in this place? He tapped quickly:

HOW CAN THEY SEE YOUR TENT

She replied:

THEY CAN SEE THROUGH ENCHANTMENT THEY ONLY BOTHER YOU IF THEY ARE SENT AFTER YOU

He asked:

WHO SENT THEM

She rolled her eyes and tapped:

WORRY ABOUT THAT LATER FIRST WE HAVE TO KILL THEM

He gave her a disgruntled look and asked:

HOW DO WE DO THAT

Miranda patted his shoulder and went to the trunk at the foot of the bed. After a bit of rummaging, she pulled out a double-headed ax, along with two vials of Strengthening Solution. She tossed one of the vials to Severus, and when they had both drunk, she returned to him and tapped on his cheek:

YOU CAN KILL MOST ANYTHING BY CHOPPING OFF ITS HEAD YOU SET THEM UP AND I WILL KNOCK THEM DOWN ON THREE

By now, his eyes had fully adjusted to the darkness, and he moved towards the door, wand at the ready. He shook his head silently, musing that he had been quite correct—chaos did follow ever on Miranda’s heels. Her hand was on his shoulder, and before he could wonder overlong about whether she, the Dark Lord, or Albus was most likely to be the death of him, she was tapping out:

ONE…TWO…THREE

The door flew open and Severus surged through it into the moonlit clearing. After the dark of the tent, the moonlight was more than sufficient to reveal the hulking figures of two werewolf-like monsters. The beasts froze for an instant, as though startled by the humans’ attack.

Without hesitation, Severus flicked his wand and hissed, “Sectumsempra,” casting rapidly at each of the creatures in turn. They reeled backwards as the curse hit them, wounds exploding and sending bits of pus and fur-covered flesh in all directions.

“Left!” Miranda shouted, and Severus whirled to cast at another charging monster.

His curse hit the mark again and he instinctively ducked, knowing without words that Miranda would come vaulting over him to cleave off the head of the third creature. He allowed himself an instant to admire her form, before shifting to one knee and casting at the fourth attacker. This pricolici had managed to advance closer than the others, and Severus bombarded it with slash after slash of his signature curse, until Miranda appeared beside him, and used his leg as a stair-step. He seamlessly gave her his free hand, helping her up like a dancer, and she neatly decapitated the monster before swinging behind Severus’s back and onto the ground.

This last move had perhaps been unnecessarily showy, as it had given the final pricolici ample time to charge. It caught Miranda up in its hairy arms and threw her like a rag doll across the clearing. Severus cast viciously at the attacker, but his eyes kept involuntarily searching for Miranda, and he found himself knocked to the ground. With a muttered expletive, he blindly cast a bombarding curse and scrambled to his feet, but an instant later the pricolici caught him from behind in a death grip. Severus cast again, and the pair of them were thrown across the clearing, rolling until they came to a halt with Severus on the bottom. With great effort, and the aid of the Stregnthing Solution, he managed to turn himself in the beast’s deadly embrace in order to see where he was casting. He conjured a rope that wrapped itself around the toothy snout, but the enraged beast snapped through the bonds easily. This he followed with another round of Sectumsempra, and pus and flesh poured over him from his victim. The pricolici whimpered like a kicked dog for a moment, but the whimper became a growl, and its snapping jaws descended to rip out Severus’s throat.

Severus gritted his teeth and cast a final curse, fighting the urge to close his eyes against his own impending doom. But when a wet flood of something hit his eyes, he could not resist closing them. The beast collapsed on top of him, and he accepted with finality that Miranda was going to be the death of him after all.

The teeth on his throat never came though and, after a time, he noticed that the clearing was still except for the sound of Miranda’s bell-like laugh. His face was still wet, and when he opened his eyes he discovered that he was pinned beneath the now headless pricolici. Miranda was disentangling him from it the best that she could, hampered by her high spirits and her laughter. Her soiled ax was sitting on the ground next to them, resting from its labors.

When she finally had him free of the corpse, he sat up and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the gore off of his face. She offered him a hand to pull him to his feet, and he rose, recalling their first meeting. Her eyes were astonishingly bright in the moonlight, and he wondered if they had been so that first night, hidden in the shadows of that fatal alley.

“Well done!” she said, her voice ecstatic. “Only next time, don’t get so distracted by what I’m doing. That last one wouldn’t have caught you if you hadn’t been worrying about me.”

“Why am I not surprised that you would criticize me for my chivalrous impulses?”

“Chivalry has no place in a battle. I can take care of myself, you know.”

“I am well aware of your competence. It is one of your most attractive qualities.”

This seemed to please her so much, that she caught his hands and started waltzing around the battleground with him. And he was so giddy from the rush of the fight and the victory, that he went along with her, grinning like a fool. The contours of her face and her body were clearer than he’d ever seen them, and the moonlight bathed the world in brilliant blues and silvers and purples. While they danced, he became aware of the smell of hyacinths, and the perfume was so strong that he marveled that he hadn’t noticed it before. Every nerve of his skin was hyperaware of the tiniest sensation.

“I think that you could swing dance if you wanted to,” Miranda teased.

“Of course I could. It is not a question of ability, it is a question of decorum.”

“Oh, that English decorum.”

She pouted prettily, and her lips drew him in like a magnet. He spun her to him, as he had in front of Shoreditch Church the summer before, and kissed her now as eagerly as he had then. She tasted of elf-made wine and honey, and he felt more delightfully intoxicated than mere alcohol had ever helped him achieve. The perfume of the hyacinths was overtaken by her scent, lavender and sweat from the exertions of the battle. She tugged open the collar of his shirt, and seared his cheek with a line of burning kisses. When she reached his neck, she bit him playfully, laughing against his skin when he growled at her. He ran his hands along the curve of her waist, and then scooped her up and threw her over his shoulder the way he had threatened to do the other evening.

“What happened to your precious decorum?” she yelped in surprise.

“Decorum is doing the proper thing at the proper time, and this is the proper way to carry barbarians to bed,” he replied, heading for the tent.

“Says who?”

“Says your English lover. Do you mean to complain about it?”

“No,” she purred. “No, I don’t think I will.”

They did decide to transfigure one of the chairs into a bath before retiring to bed, but removing pricolici gore turned out to be a much more entertaining chore than it had any right to be.

******

“Severus, are you listening to me?” Lucius demanded on Friday evening, breaking off his long-winded tale to glare at his companion. Severus had joined the Malfoy family for dinner, and the two men were sitting alone in the library so that Lucius could talk about himself.

“Hmmm?” Severus replied, swirling his glass of firewhiskey. “Of course I am. You just said that Cornelius Fudge is the stupidest Minister we’ve ever had.”

“Well, yes, to say the least.” He shot Severus one more suspicious glance, but went on with his pompous story of his own cleverness.

In point of fact, Severus had long since perfected the art of listening with one ear while thinking of something else entirely. Usually this skill was put to use in his meetings with the Dark Lord, enabling him to keep hidden what needed to be hidden while gleaning information and constantly evaluating what his next move should be. At the current moment, he was employing his skill much more agreeably, reliving his Romanian Holiday and dwelling on his magnificent Barbarian. He was somewhat troubled that a band of undead monsters had presumably been sent by her rivals to kill her, but she had promised to speak to Weasley and Albus about the matter. And he had to admit that she could, most certainly, take care of herself.

“And now, about your little tart, Miranda,” Lucius said, finally capturing Severus’s full attention.

A chill of warning crept up Severus’s spine, but he schooled his features and kept his tone indifferent as he asked, “What about her?”

“It is unfortunate that I’ve had to send your little playmate abroad, but I think it would be for the best that you don’t become particularly attached to her. She is quickly becoming more trouble than she is worth.”

“Dallying with a woman does not indicate that a man wishes to spend the rest of his life with her. I’m sure you are well aware of that.”

“I’m relieved to hear you say that. I’d hate to think that your mind had been addled by the mud-blood upstart.”

“It would take much more than that to addle my mind,” Severus remarked, covering the tension in his jaw by finishing his firewhiskey.

“Then let us be frank. There is no possible way that Sirius Black is in Romania. I know it, The Dark Lord knows it, and I strongly suspect that you know it, even if your tangled mess of allegiances prevents you from saying so.”

Severus arched an eyebrow and his stomach twisted. “What makes you think that?”

“That is for me to know and you to wonder about,” Lucius said condescendingly. “How long has Miranda been working for Dumbledore?”

“I was not aware that she was. You do understand that I do not spend time with her in order to discuss her work.”

“Very good, I suspected as much.” Lucius refilled both their glasses. “Then she is not in the Order?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“But she is cooperating with them. She’s been working with that Weasley brat at the Dragon Sanctuary in Romania, and she’s involved with some scheme there.”

“Is she?”

Lucius’s eyes were shrewd and calculating as he studied the younger man. “Do you really have no idea what she is up to?”

“I’m afraid not.”

There was a long moment of silence while the men stared each other down. Severus knew that Lucius was no legilimens, but he kept his mind on teaching and the Dark Lord to be safe. He also did not dare risk invading Lucius’s mind, although he dearly wished to do so. What a relief it would be to know what the other man was hiding, but Lucius would notice if Severus attempted a mental search. If Severus wished to keep Miranda, he needed Lucius and the Dark Lord to think that she meant nothing to him. And he found it surprising how much it had come to matter to him that he keep her.

At last Lucius said, “If you have the opportunity, it would behoove you to pry what you can out of her as far as her association with Dumbledore and the rest of those fools goes. The Dark Lord is suspicious of you, as I’m sure you’re well aware. I’ve known you for a long time, Severus, and I respect you. I would like to bring you along with me as I ascend, but I will not let you drag me down. Even for the sake of old times.”

“I understand.”

“To the Dark Lord,” Lucius said, raising his glass.

“To the Dark Lord.”

Severus lifted his glass in time with Lucius and drained it dry. The burn of the alcohol did nothing to warm him, and the dregs sat ashen and bitter on his tongue.

---------------------------

End Notes:

C'est un songe que d'y penser: It is a dream even to think of her. This is a quote from Charles, duc d’Orléans’ (1394-1465) poem “Dieu! qu'il la fait bon regarder” or “God, what a vision she is.”

Suspension de l’incrédulité: Suspension of disbelief. Many thanks to Chiara for helping me research! This phrase was coined by the English poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge (1772-1834). I promise there will be more about this potion later.

Sarmale are sour cabbage rolls stuffed with various fillings. Minciunele is a dessert of friend pastry. Its name means “little lies” in Romanian.

Tablă is something like backgammon. Mastícă is a liqueur made with a resin from the mastic tree, giving it a piney flavor.

Pricolici are monsters from Romanian folklore—because werewolves, vampires, and zombies aren’t scary enough by themselves.

-------------------------

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter Seventeen+

Chapter Nineteen+ >>

#harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #severus snape #snape #snape fanfiction #severus snape fanfic #severus snape fanfiction #snape x oc #oc appreciation #ilvermorny #second wizarding war #espionage #spying #adventure #romance

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heroicintention-a · 6 years

Note

Do WOLFSTAR for the ship meme i wanna hear the dirt

SEND ME A SHIP AND I’LL RATE IT FROM A SCALE OF 1-10 AND TELL YOU MY THOUGHTS ABOUT IT

You wanna hear about my love/hate relationship with WolfStar? Oh gawd get ready.

Okay so-- pre Severus Snape being lured into Remus’ safe place by trusted bff Sirius? This ship is wonderful. At least a 8/10. Remus attaches easily, and Sirius is one of those impressive types-- he’s got a bit of a crush on James and Sirius both, but Sirius is the one he tends to gravitate towards. They both have some problems at home, and overall they have problems. Bonding structure, plus they even themselves out rather well. Remus is purposefully cautious, Sirius is purposefully reckless. They’re really great friends, they comfort one another because they both can understand having horrid nightmares....

But then we come to the after part. The part where Sirius does betray Remus’ trust (for what exact reason? who knows). And Remus can’t forgive that when he’s been trying so fucking hard to fit in, to build himself up in a world where he’ll never properly belong, and now someone who was supposed to be his best friend (and first crush, in my world) goes and does this? For a laugh? For revenge? Does it matter if Remus could have killed or bit Severus-- who he honestly doesn’t mind that much?

This is where things get sticky and why I can’t read most WolfStar fics because they don’t fucking acknowledge that this was a huge turning point. You don’t just get over that shit.

Remus takes a step back from his friends. Because he realizes that it could happen again, being betrayed. Werewolves are creatures that people use or kill (a thought that is further seen in my among wolves verse where Remus just runs away to Fenrir’s pack but anyway) so why should Remus trust anyone?

And we know something built between them-- all of them-- because Sirius (maybe James, but Sirius was the one that insisted on the change) didn’t trust Remus to be secret keeper later on. Possibly because he was a werewolf/with the packs, but maybe also because Remus had taken steps to create distance. Which is why I think a relationship anytime between their fifth year and Sirius’ escape from Azkaban (or at least the end of the first war in some au) would be... unlikely and a definite 1.5/10-- aka very unlikely unless you wanna be in devastating amounts of angst.

Even after they reconnect, they seem distant in my opinion. They’ve led different lives, of course, and they’re in a world that’s basically left them behind-- Sirius has been in prison, Remus is a social outcast, most of those they knew of their own age are gone it seems... And I think that’s their main likeness at that point. They’ve only got each other to share those memories, and I think that’s why it could work at that point. Don’t get me wrong, I adore Tonks/Remus, but I feel like if the option had been there, Remus might have gone for Sirius because a) known each other forever, b) can’t breed with another bloke , and c) he worried so much about ruining Nymphadora’s life because he’s older/a werewolf/an outcast... welp, Sirius’ life is already shit, so hey. But anyway: when Sirius is in Grimmauld Place, I can see the two reconnecting. Maybe having a lot of discussions, airing a lot of shit (on Remus’ side especially) and possibly, maybe, having a relationship. But it would be difficult.

In conclusion, I give it this ship a 5/10 because in the beginning it’s good, in the middle it’s shit, and by the end we have two sad broken men that maybe just need their friends back. Who might not work out, but who want to try something because what they’ve been doing isn’t working. Who want to be happy again, and who might not find that in each other.

#remember you asked for this #long post #;;asks #;;shipping asks #firstbornweasley

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violet-knox · 4 years

Note

oof what about... albinism? (like the character in my profile pic?)

Imagine Severus Finding Out You Have Albinism

Word Count: 1384

A/N: Gotta admit, I have no idea who the character in your profile is but here you go!

- You’d always felt insecure about the way you looked which was likely the reason you felt so nervous right now, waiting for Severus to return from his last class of the day as you sat there on the couch of his chambers.

- You’d promised yourself you’d come clean with him and show him who you really were, but you were afraid. What if he wanted nothing to do with you when you told him of your condition? What if he felt disgusted or appalled when he saw you?

-You felt horrified as time went passed and your hands turned from the usual pale shade you’d mascaraed around in to their true colour. The more the pigment in your skin faded, the more you felt like a fraud. He was going to walk into his own chambers and find a total stranger sitting there when he’d expected to find that fake version of you he’d grown close to these last few months.

- Removing the vial from your robes, you held it in your hand and debated on downing it and running back to your own chambers, abandoning the thought of showing Severus what you really looked like, especially when you’d only been dating a month.

- It had already been so difficult to converse with him when you first arrived as the new Defense Professor, especially since you’d heard of his own desire for the job. The last thing you wanted was to ruin things between you now. But what kind of a relationship would it be if you continued to hide yourself from him?

- No, it was clear what you had to do and whatever may happen, at least you were honest and transparent with him. So, you tucked away the bottle and sat back down on the couch, waiting to explain to Severus why you suddenly looked so different to what he was used to seeing.

- When the door opened, your heart almost stopped as you froze in place. This was it. This was the moment you were dreading, the moment that could potentially ruin the only good thing you’d had in your life in a very long time.

- Severus was ready to ramble on and on to you about the horrendous presence of the second year Gryffindors he’d endured during class today as he opened the door to his chambers. He was ready to sip tea with you and cuddle beside the fireplace until dinner and he was so wrapped up in his thoughts, already beginning his rant, he hadn’t even noticed anything different with you when he walked into his room, heading straight for the kettle to start your evening together.

- You’d been taken back by his lack of awareness, stunned for a moment before you stood up, summoning all the courage you had to call for his attention. It took several mentions of his name before his eyes finally landed on you and he stopped rambling on about his day but when he did, you could feel your heart stop.

- “I’ve-I’ve been meaning to tell you,” you managed to whisper as you fought back tears. His face was unreadable, but his lack of movement had you thinking the absolute worst. Your fear had never been so prominent. You didn’t want to lose him. You couldn’t lose him.

- “You mean, you’ve been hiding all these months?” He finally managed to say once he’d processed the new white tone of your skin and hair.

- “I-I wasn’t sure how to tell you,” you whimpered, avoiding his eyes as he slowly approached you.

- Severus walked to you, reach for your hand and placing it in both of his. He could feel the same soft skin beneath his fingertips, but his eyes told him it was someone else. His eyes tried to deceive him, to tell him something other than what he knew was true; you were still you no matter how you looked.

- It wasn’t until he looked up into your eyes that he’d notice your tears and your beautiful faded blue irises. He could see you were hurting, that you were struggling with your own truth and of course, the last thing you needed right now was for him to struggle with it as well. You’d taken such a leap of faith, trusting him with a large secret.

- He began to feel guilty for hiding his own secrets from you, for hiding his past as a Death Eater and the baggage he was forced to carry with him. Bringing a hand up to your cheek, he slowly swiped away your tears, offering you the smallest of smiles.

- “You don’t have to hide from me,” he whispered to you, his thumb still lingering under the eyes he couldn’t help but admire. He didn’t think you could be more beautiful, but you’d proven him wrong today with the courage you’d shown, the courage he himself felt he lacked at times.

- You were beyond relieved to hear those words come out of his mouth, your shoulders shrugging off the weight you’d been carrying around these last few weeks.

- Severus finished making tea, all thoughts of his treacherous class behind him now as he sat on the couch with you, asking about the potion you used to change your hair, skin and eye colour.

- He felt sorrow when you spoke of how you felt about your condition, about the shame that weighed you down for looking different than everyone else and he sympathized. He more than anyone could understand the feeling of being on the outsider looking in, like an outlier in a world full of perfection.

- But he also felt angry at the fact you felt this way at all. Of course, he tried to convince you to embrace your looks and let go of the shelter the potion you’d been drinking had to offer, but he knew it would take time for you to build up such courage.

- He would be there though when you did find that strength and in the meantime, he would do all he could to support you and assure you that though you may look different, you were still the same Professor the staff and students had come to love.

- Severus insisted he brew the potion for you rather than have you import it from whatever shop it was you were previously purchasing from, going as far as to alter the formula and elongate it’s affects. But he soon grew tired of this curtain you hid behind, feeling as though it caged you, keeping you from showing the world your true self, always holding you back, afraid of this secret you chose to keep.

- He didn’t want to do anything without your permission fearing you’d leave him, but he felt pressed and when it seemed as though you’d never give up on taking this potion, he took it upon himself to alter it further so it at the very least kept from hiding your true eye colour.

- You panicked at first when you’d realized the potion hadn’t taken it’s full effect, worried it was wearing off or that you’d been given a bad batch, but the moment Severus placed a hand over yours to keep you calm, you’d understood what he’d done. Rage was all you could feel at first, but by the end of the day, all you could do was thank him for giving you the push you needed to accept yourself.

- Not long after, you’d stopped taking the potion entirely and to your utter shock, the world didn’t reject you as you’d once thought. Sure, you got the occasional odd look, but the staff had all shown their support for you and some of your students even went as far as to send you small notes, telling you how much you inspired them.

- It was really all thanks to Severus for this newfound freedom you felt, and you couldn’t have been happier to have met someone as loyal and supportive as he was. It was thanks to him you finally felt comfortable in your own skin and it was thanks to him you finally felt like you belonged somewhere in this big world.

@marvelschriss @bush-viper-cutie

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inmyownlittlecorner5 · 4 years

Text

Moonlight Chapter Ten: Prospero’s

A fanfic Novel by la-topolina

Rated for Mature Audiences

Warnings: Language, Violence, Sexual Content

Chapter 10/26

Moonlight Masterpost+

<< Chapter Nine+

Chapter Eleven+ >>

-------------------------------

Miranda stood in Severus’s shower, letting the water run over her and leaning her aching head against the tiled wall. She felt as though someone had attacked her skull with an ice pick and then stirred her brain like a Christmas pudding. She heard Severus stomping away, followed by the door slamming and assumed that he had decided not to join her on a drinking binge. Good. She was glad to be alone. She turned the water up hotter and slapped her hand against the wall. Her palm came away stinging, but the pain in her hand momentarily distracted her from the pain in her head.

Fuck Albus Dumbledore and fuck Severus Snape! she thought viciously. She supposed that Voldemort was worse, but the wizards on the side of light were certainly willing to get their hands dirty.

It suddenly struck her that Voldemort might actually be the one behind her assignment to hunt Sirius Black and she shuddered at the thought. She was reckless, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew that Voldemort was the last person she wanted paying any attention to her. Maybe it was time to cut her losses and go back home. That would be the smart thing to do, but she’d been acting rather foolish since she’d met Severus Snape.

Severus Snape. She’d noticed the red tattoo on his left forearm even before officially investigating him. Americans weren’t completely ignorant of events happening in the rest of the wizarding world; whatever the rest of the world might say about them. It hadn’t particularly bothered her that he’d been a Death Eater. Lots of people did stupid things when they were young. But he was still a Death Eater! She suspected from their meeting today that he was Dumbledore’s spy in Voldemort’s camp, but that was the sanguine view of things. Being as Severus was still alive, Voldemort must believe that Severus was his spy in Dumbledore’s camp. Was she willing to bet her life on Dumbledore’s vote of confidence?

She turned up the water again. She’d been avoiding thinking about what the hell she was doing with Severus. She barely knew the man and she’d basically thrown herself at him. She’d been completely reckless and it served her right that he turned out to be a spy—or evil. But for some reason, she believed in her heart that he wouldn’t willingly hurt her. She had never been afraid of him, even this evening when he had been livid at her for using legilimency on him. She appreciated his genius. She usually found his sarcastic remarks amusing. He wasn’t intimidated by her magical prowess—something she’d rarely found in men. Usually wizards either pretended she was less competent than they were, or they shied away, preferring less powerful witches. She wasn’t actually sure if she could defeat Severus in a duel, but she knew that she could give him a run for his money.

She supposed what drew her to him most was his veneer of complete control. It was as though he were challenging her to break through that control to see the emotions that he was hiding underneath it. That and the fact that he only had to look at her to make her want to fall into bed with him. Good Lord, she was being an idiot, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself.

She stayed in the shower for more than an hour, trying wash off the feeling of violation. At some point, she heard the door slam again, so she stayed in for an extra fifteen minutes out of petulance. As her anger cooled, she admitted to herself that she did understand Dumbledore’s concern about her. She was sleeping with his spy after all, and it made a harsh sort of sense that Dumbledore would want to be sure that she wasn’t some sort of spy or trap herself. But why did Severus have to be such an asshole about it? Why didn’t he know when to quit?

When she resembled a wrinkled, boiled lobster, she emerged and wrapped herself in a large, black bath towel. She wiped some steam off the mirror, examining herself critically and picking up her wand from the sink.

“Ventula,” she said, directing the breeze to her hair. When it was dry, she brushed it until it shone and painstakingly arranged it in a pile of braids on the back of her head.

“Formosa.” A subtle color came into her face, highlighting her lips, eyes, and cheeks. She turned to her tunic and trousers hanging on the back of the door and flicked her wand at them.

“Multatio vestimentia.” They transfigured into another gown of lapis lazuli blue. She considered it for a moment and made a few alterations before slipping it over her head. She pulled the sapphire earrings out of her bag and then transfigured the whole thing into a silver handbag. Her boots she changed into silver shoes with heels low enough for some serious dancing. She pulled her silver cloak out of her bag and wrapped it around her shoulders. She put on her earrings, slung her handbag over her wrist, and strode out of the bathroom, head held high.

Severus was sitting at his desk, marking scrolls. From the set of his jaw and his shoulders, he still seemed furious. He did not look at her as she came out of the bedroom, so she sat down stiffly in the arm chair in front of the fire. There was a tray of sandwiches and water sitting on the end table next to the chair. When he still did not speak, she pulled her novel out of her handbag, bewitched it to float at eye level, and silently started eating.

A few moments later, he laid down his quill and stalked into the bedroom. She heard the water start running and wondered if she should feel victorious or apprehensive that he had decided to obey her command that they go out. She turned the page angrily and kept eating. If he was going to be vile, she would do the same.

After her second sandwich and third chapter, she was actually feeling a bit better. Her head did not ache nearly so much and she had managed to lose herself pleasantly in her book. She was so focused that she did not notice Severus silently approach her and begin reading over her shoulder, until he started to do so aloud.

“ ‘Before she could withdraw her mind from its far places, his arms were around her, as sure and hard as on the dark road to Tara, so long ago,’ ” he began in the tone that he reserved for reading his students’ confiscated notes aloud in class. She made a grab for the book, but he was faster. He snatched it and went on, “ ‘She felt again the rush of helplessness, the sinking yielding, the surging tide of warmth that left her limp. And the quiet face of Ashley Wilkes was blurred and drowned to nothingness.’ “

“Give that back, you ass!” she snapped, turning in the chair and climbing to her knees. She made another futile attempt to retrieve the book, but he dodged easily and paced away from her, his eyes gleaming wickedly.

“No, it’s just getting interesting,” he mocked. “ ‘He bent back her head across his arm and kissed her, softly at first, and then with a swift gradation of intensity that made her cling to him as the only solid thing left in a dizzy swaying world. His insistent mouth was parting her shaking lips, sending wild tremors along her nerves, evoking from her sensations she had never known she was capable of feeling. And before a swimming giddiness spun her round and round, she knew that she was kissing him back.’ “

Miranda, her face beet red, drew her wand and snapped, “Accio, book!”

He laughed softly as the book flew to her hand. She shrank it, returned it to her handbag and turned back to her sandwich, her anger returning. How did he manage to ruin her moods so quickly?

“What are you reading, my dear?” he asked smoothly.

“Gone with the Wind. It’s about the Götterdämmerung of the American South,” she replied loftily

“Not on that particular page.”

“More generally it is about people who have gumption and people who don’t.”

“Perhaps you would rather stay in with your novel. It seems rather lurid.”

She looked at him coldly and conjured a map of Melrose in Roxburghshire. The map floated in the air and she said, “This is Prospero’s. You’ll hate it. It’s full of Americans and other barbarians. You can join me or not, I really don’t give a shit.” She tapped the map and a circle glowed around the club’s location.

He had actually felt his mood lighten as he teased Miranda for her choice of reading material, but her cold look reminded him that he was still furious at her.

“I think I shall see this childish whim out to its conclusion,” he replied icily. He studied the map until he thought he could Apparate to the place, then he followed her out of his rooms and into the night.

The waxing moon shone brightly over the hills and trees when they appeared with a crack fifteen minutes later. It was warm for early November, although there was a chill in the wind that held the promise of winter. The grass was still mostly green under their feet and the dark, hulking shapes of the Eildon Hills slumbered silently in the distance. An owl hooted somewhere in the trees, but otherwise the green was quiet and peaceful.

Miranda drew her wand, whispered, “Lumos,” and a blue light appeared at its tip.

She began awkwardly picking her way over to a copse of trees behind them, the heels of her shoes sinking into the still soft earth. Severus almost reached out a hand to steady her, but decided against it. If she wanted help she could ask for it.

When they reached the copse, she began searching the trunk of a gnarled old oak tree. Eventually she found the knot she was looking for and tapped it with her wand. A jagged doorway appeared and she descended the wooden staircase, heels now clicking on the hard surface. Severus followed her, the door snapping shut behind him. At the bottom of the stairs, the word Prospero’s glowed in neon green light above the gaping mouth of a cave. It was cool and damp inside the stairwell, the air stagnant and heavy. He fancied there would be something at the bottom warning all sane people not to enter, but they were past the point of no return before he could detect such a sign.

He blinked hard as he was assaulted by light, noise, and smoke. He suppressed a cough and surveyed a large room done mostly in metal and glass. The high ceiling was hung with chains on which were suspended thousands of multi-colored hurricane lamps. The weird, rainbow colored light that the lamps provided was reflected by the mirrored walls. The cement floor was hard under his feet after the grass and the wood. It was painted in black and white spirals that made one rather dizzy to observe. At the front of the club was a wooden dance floor, also done in black and white spirals, and a metal stage etched with a dance macabre. A six piece band dressed in obnoxiously bright robes sat on the stage, grooving along through some American swing. Although it was a Tuesday, several couples were whirling around the floor like dervishes and, as Miranda had threatened, Severus heard as many American accents as anything else.

Miranda wandered through the groups of converted industrial spool tables until they reached a curved mass of wrought iron topped with a thick layer of dark wood. This apparently served as the bar and Miranda tried to hail the short, curvy barmaid over the music. It took a few tries, but eventually the curly-haired brunette sauntered their direction.

“Miranda!” she chirped, leaning over the bar to peck Miranda on the cheek. “Where’ve you been hiding? We haven’t seen you in here since September!”

Miranda smiled and said, “I’ve been busy, Cynthia.”

Cynthia eyed Severus appreciatively as he removed his cloak and shrank it to fit in his pocket. He was dressed in his usual black, but tonight there was no trace of white at his high collar or long cuff. The buttons down the front of his frock coat were dark green cabochons and a silver snake pin glinted at his throat. He had managed to get most of the fumes from the potions classroom out of his hair for once and Miranda, as angry as she was, wanted to run her fingers through it.

“I can see that,” Cynthia giggled. “Why haven’t you brought him around before? Keeping him all to yourself?”

Miranda pulled out a cigarette and rolled her eyes as she lit it. “Please. He doesn’t get out much. He hates crowds, and noise, and probably me, but we need to blow off some steam.”

“Well, when you’re done with him, I’ll take him. Steam, huh? You want the usual, or are you after the rye tonight?”

“I think the rye’ll do it for me. Neat for the first round, up after that. He can order for himself.”

Cynthia turned to Severus, who gave her a calculating look. “I suppose it would too taxing on a place such as this to request a Monte Cassino,” he commented dryly.

Miranda snorted as Cynthia’s eyebrows went up.

“Classy guy,” Cynthia purred, turning to fetch bottles and glassware from their perches among concrete flora and fauna.

“But only if you actually know how to make it,” he stipulated.

Cynthia turned back to Severus with her hands on her hips. “Equal parts Benedictine, Yellow Chartreuse, fresh squeezed lemon juice, and rye whiskey. Stir sixteen and three quarter times clockwise from the perspective of the bottom of the mixing glass with eight and a quarter ounces of ice. Strain into a coupe and garnish with a two inch twist of lemon peel.”

The corner of his lip curled. “Proceed.”

Cynthia nodded and turned to her work. A few minutes later she slid a tumbler of dark amber liquid to Miranda, and an elegant coupe to Severus.

“To the past,” Miranda said, her eyes and smile hard as she clinked glasses with him.

Severus sipped his drink, and gave Cynthia an approving nod. Miranda shot most of hers down in one, set down her glass, and removed her silver cloak. Severus was glad that he was so practiced at maintaining a blank expression, but he could not stop his pulse from racing as she stowed her cloak in her handbag and leaned against the bar in such a way as to display herself to her best advantage. Her dress had a high, mandarin collar and bell sleeves that slit up past her elbows. Despite the high neckline, the dress was fitted perfectly to every curve and he could not help picturing everything he knew was under it. The skirt fitted across her hips and trailed down to her lovely ankles, but it was slit up to her thighs in several places, so it in no way impeded her movement.

“I thought I wouldn’t bother introducing you to anyone,” she said casually. “After all, we’re not friends or anything.”

“Good. I’d rather not have it known that I set foot in a place like this,” he answered in kind. “Does the band play music, or only this cacophony?”

“They’re versatile. I’m sure they’ll play something that you can keep up with.” She finished her cigarette as the band switched to a plaintive waltz. “Stogy enough for you?”

“Quite.” He gave her a short bow. “If I may have the pleasure.”

She took his hand, her eyes still hard. When they reached the dance floor, he put his right hand properly on her left shoulder blade in preparation for a classic waltz.

“You sure you know what you’re doing?” she goaded.

In response, he slid his hand down to her mid-back, and swept her into a Viennese waltz rather than the simple box-step. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, and she had to cling to his shoulder as her feet left the floor for a few seconds before she caught up with him. They glided gracefully around the dance floor and she had to admit that he did, in fact, know what he was doing. She felt as though she were floating supported by his arms and their momentum. It was a very agreeable sensation and she felt some of the tension she’d been carrying all day drain out of her. She thought she saw the gleam in his eye lose some of its maliciousness as well and her hopes rose that the evening would end better than it had begun.

Severus held onto her a bit longer than strictly necessary at the end of the dance so that he could admire the flush that had come into her cheeks. Then they went back to the bar and Cynthia set them up with another round.

“Not bad,” she allowed with a smile.

“You seem to have mastered the basics,” he replied, his tone less caustic than it had been earlier. Then he smirked and added, “Impressive for a barbarian.”

“Oh, we still do a few things across the pond.”

“Miranda!" A drawling male voice interjected.

“Aaron!” Miranda cried, turning to the owner of the voice. Her face broke into a real smile and she embraced a tall wizard with a dark pompadour and a chevron mustache. “It’s been ages!”

Aaron stooped to kiss Miranda’s cheek and said, “I know. I’d heard you were in England, but we’ve been busy at the embassy night and day and it seems you’re never here when I am.”

“It’s actually been a while since I have been here. I’ve had my plate full since I got to England. Although, I guess we’re in Scotland now. Whatever.”

“Anything you can tell me about?” Aaron asked, motioning to Cynthia for one of what Miranda was having.

“Oh, you know, same old, same old.”

“Vampires or graphorns this time?” Aaron removed the vermillion cape covering his slate blue pinstripe suit and took a seat on the stool next to Miranda.

“Wizards actually.”

Severus cleared his throat and she suddenly remembered his presence. She frowned, not exactly sure how to introduce him.

“Oh, of course,” she began, sounding a bit flustered. “Severus, this is Aaron Lee. He works for MACUSA. We were in the same year and house at Ilvermorny. Aaron, Severus Snape. He’s the Potions Master at Hogwarts.”

Aaron stuck out his hand and Severus shook it. “Nice to meet you, Professor Snape.”

“Mr. Lee,” Severus answered tersely.

“But don’t go telling anyone you saw him here,” Miranda went on. “You know how the English expect their professors to live like monks. We don’t want him to get fired for coming to this dive.”

“And with you, no less,” Aaron agreed, teasing. He sipped his rye and added, “Watch her, she broke my heart.”

“I did not!” she exclaimed. “You always had eyes for Rachel.”

“Only after you ditched me for David. I thought I’d never recover.”

“Good Lord, we dated for two weeks fifth year and you never stopped talking long enough to kiss me even once. David knew how to put some pauses in a conversation.”

“I was terrified you’d hex me if I got fresh!” Aaron protested good-naturedly.

“Well, I’d never have put up with your constant chattering, so it’s a good thing Rachel took you. How is she anyway?”

“Eh, she’s been under the weather. That’s why she kicked me out tonight. Said I was driving her crazy with all my talking.”

“So you thought you’d drive me crazy instead? Lucky me!”

The band struck up another swing number and Aaron grinned at Miranda. “Come on, old girl, you still got it?”

“Do you, old man?”

“Try me!”

“You don’t mind, do you Severus?”

“Why should I mind if you wish to make an exhibition of yourself?” Severus replied in that smooth tone that he used whenever he was angry.

She decided to take him at his word and linked arms with Aaron. Severus leaned against the bar, drinking his cocktail and glaring at the pair of them. He had actually enjoyed waltzing with Miranda, but he was most displeased that this prat had interrupted his evening. He had hoped to bait Miranda until his anger passed and the wretched band played something worth dancing to.

He was also angry to watch Miranda’s easy manner with her old school friend. She never seemed quite that open with him. Severus supposed that she was responding to his guarded nature and perhaps she was wary of how much to share with him. This was perfectly logical, but it didn’t make him feel any better about it. He frowned darkly as he watched Miranda and Aaron execute the athletic swing steps as easily as if they had danced together all their lives. And really, perhaps they had. They somehow even had the breath to talk and Miranda seemed to think whatever Aaron was saying to her was hilariously funny. Severus almost cast an eavesdropping charm, but decided he was above such low behavior. He settled for finishing his drink, ordering another, and brooding.

“Knut for your thoughts?” Cynthia asked as she sat another coupe in front of him.

He gave her a withering look, took his drink, and went back to glaring at Miranda and Aaron.

Cynthia cleared her throat, and he turned his glare on her. “It’s none of my business, but maybe you’d rather I set the two of you up at one of the back corner tables. It’ll be harder for Miranda’s crowd to interrupt you there. If you stay here at the bar, I guarantee you it’ll keep happening. She’s a good time, as I’m sure you already know.” She smiled at him and added, “And we’d really rather there not be any hexing if you don’t mind. It scuffs the floor and when the band’s instruments get wrecked, we have to replace them.”

Severus’s face relaxed a bit. “Duly noted.”

------

“So what’s with the fella?” Aaron was asking as he and Miranda rock-stepped to catch their breath.

“Oh, you know, it’s complicated.” Miranda deflected.

“As in, he’s married complicated?”

“More like, he’s addicted to his job complicated.”

Aaron flipped her around his back and when she landed he asked, “Is it serious?”

“No!” Miranda answered a bit too forcefully, and Aaron grinned at her. “I mean, not really. I mean, I’m pissed off at him right now, so I don’t know that I’m even going to see him again after tonight.”

Aaron laughed and flipped her over his arm. “From the way he’s glaring at me, I’d say he’s planning to see you again. I just hope he doesn’t murder me. Make sure you talk about how much I love my wife, okay?”

She scoffed at the idea of Severus being jealous. “Come on, he doesn’t give a shit what I do.”

“I don’t know about that.” They executed a complicated pretzel move, and when they were back to the rock step Aaron pressed, “What’d he do to make you so mad?”

“He’s an asshole that’s what! He just doesn’t know when to stop acting like an ass and give it a rest.”

“Miranda, I’m going to tell you a little secret. Now, I don’t know if this guy is worth it, but I do know you haven’t really dated anybody since David died a decade ago. So if this guy has got you interested, it might not be worth throwing him over just for being an ass.”

“But he’s such an ass.”

“Silence and listen to my wisdom, woman!” Miranda laughed out loud and he flipped her around his back again.

“Now,” he turned her so that they were dancing side by side and went on in her ear, “men, in general, are the same amount of asshole all the time, day in and day out. But women, you see, women have patience, a quality that many men lack. We men are the benefactors of this patience but, sometimes this patience runs out. When that happens, women get angry with men. And we men are confused, because we have been doing the same thing and being the same amount of asshole and suddenly, the women are angry. And then, the women regain their patience, usually after a good fuck, and the cycle starts over.”

He tried to flip her over his arm again, but Miranda was laughing so hard that she lost her balance and slid to the floor. Aaron twirled her around on the floor, stepped over her, pulled her between his legs, and flipped her around so that she ended balanced on his hip. He held her there until she stopped laughing enough to put her feet back on the floor. She kissed his cheek and wrapped her arms around him.

“Hey, knock it off before he hexes me!” Aaron laughed, pushing her away playfully. They linked arms again and Aaron started to take Miranda back to Severus, but when they looked towards the bar he was no where to be found.

“See, I told you he didn’t give a shit what I did,” Miranda pointed out with a tight smile.

“More likely he’s waiting outside in the alley to jump me,” Aaron replied humorously as he scanned the room for Severus. “Do you have time to come by on Thursday for dinner? Rachel’d love to see you, she’s been a bit down lately.”

“I’d love to.”

“You can bring the fella if you want. Assuming you don’t dump him tonight.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think he’d be interested. He’s a bit of a lone wolf and company is not his natural habitat.”

“Fair enough. But think about what I said, okay?”

“Are you quite finished?” Severus demanded silkily.

Miranda and Aaron both jumped. Neither had heard his approach over the music which, while not a waltz, was at least no longer swing.

Aaron smiled pleasantly at Severus and said, “She’s all yours. Nice to meet you Professor Snape. Thanks for letting me borrow her.” He gave Miranda another quick kiss on the cheek and added, “Bring some of that toffee you make, will you? If that doesn’t cheer Rachel up, nothing will.”

“Oh, I think you have a few ideas on how to cheer her up,” Miranda replied. “But I’ll bring some. Anything for Rachel.”

Aaron waved and headed over to a group of men who had started a card game at a table in the middle of the room. Miranda turned to Severus, her shoulders and jaw tensing at the sight of his cold expression. The good-will that Aaron's easy presence had inspired in her disappeared and she had half a mind to join her friend at the card table. Before she could step away though, Severus took her in his arms and led her into a foxtrot. His touch was light, but firm and unyielding, leaving no room for argument as they moved.

“Toffee?” He might as well have said 'maggots' for how appealing his tone made the confection sound.

“What? So I know how to make toffee, is that a crime?” she said defensively. “I’m sure you don’t even like toffee.”

“Actually, I do.”

“Really? I never thought I’d see the day you admitted to liking something.”

“I like you when you aren’t acting like a child,” he allowed.

She wasn’t sure quite how to take that. She settled for smirking and saying, “Is it at all possible for you to say something without an insult attached?”

“Not when you are so provoking.”

“There you go, blaming me again.” She sighed and her face softened. “Severus, I actually do understand that you and Dumbledore had to be sure I wasn’t some kind of MACUSA spy out to get you. It was more the presentation than the content that pissed me off.”

“You are so full of charming vulgarities,” he mocked. “Are you even speaking English?”

“Pissed off is a delicate way of saying furiously angry,” she snapped. “Look, could you just shut up while I explain, or do you even care? If I’m just a piece of ass to you, then do let me know so that we can stop wasting our time. It’s entirely possible for us to fuck without speaking and it would be much more efficient.”

“That idea has some merit. Perhaps we should try it.”

She clenched her jaw and tried to disengage from him, but he wouldn’t let her go. After a moment he said in a slightly less sarcastic tone, “Why don’t you keep explaining.”

She glared at him but didn’t try to escape. Instead, she stepped closer to him, dancing cheek to cheek so that she could speak quietly in his ear. “I suspected pretty early on that you were wrapped up in something dangerous. I had no idea how dangerous it was until today. You might think I’m a madwoman, but I’m not a complete idiot. I’m everything Voldemort hates without actually being a No-Maj. Do you think I want to be anywhere near him? How likely would it be for me to walk away alive?”

“As likely as my consenting to swing dance,” he drawled softly.

“And, even assuming that you are on the right side of this conflict, if I wound up in his clutches it’s not like you could do anything to save me. I’m sure that having you as a spy is worth more than any one person’s life.”

Severus knew this was true and he was startled at how awful it sounded being spoken aloud.

“I don’t think I’m much of a risk as far as giving away your secrets,” she went on matter-of-factly. “I’ve endured Cruciatus before and he wouldn’t get anything out of me that way. I am able to reinforce the wall in my mind quite a bit and, while I expect he would be able to get in eventually, the pain and shock of it would kill me before he saw anything useful.”

They had drifted to the edge of the dance floor behind one of the wide steel beams holding up the ceiling. By the end of her calm description of her own torture and death, they had stopped dancing completely.

“In any case,” she concluded, “you’ll forgive me if I lose my temper with you once in a while for never giving me a break from your charming wit. Especially when I’m willing to take that kind of a risk to be with you in the first place.”

Severus took Miranda’s face in his hands and kissed her forehead, her words echoing in his mind. What kind of selfish bastard was he asking anyone to take that kind of risk? This wasn’t her home. This wasn’t her fight. There was no reason for her to stay; no good reason anyway. He still had no idea if the Dark Lord was aware of Miranda or not, or how he would react if he were. But how could Severus do anything besides assume the worst? He suddenly had a vivid image of the Dark Lord doing everything to Miranda that she had described.

“I don’t think it is worth the risk,” he said, his lips still brushing her forehead.

She looked up at him in surprise. “I think I get to decide what I’m willing to risk,” she replied.

His eyes glittered strangely at her in the swirling light. “No. You don’t. Good-bye, Miranda.”

He let go of her face and left without a backward look.

Miranda stared after him, feeling as though she’d been punched in the stomach. Where in the world had that come from? Surely Severus had been more aware of the risks involved in their relationship than she had. After all, he had been the one hiding his place in Voldemort’s army, not she. Why was he suddenly running scared now? She blew out the breath she was holding and started blinking furiously. She simply was not going to cry over Severus Snape. What an absolutely wretched day this had been.

When she felt that she had herself under control, she emerged from behind the beam and her eyes fell on the group of men playing cards. She forced a smile and stalked over to them.

“Deal me in boys,” she said, her voice as hard as her smile.

Aaron glanced up at her and frowned. “Lover boy gone away?” he asked when he saw the look on her face.

“Can’t stand the heat, I guess,” she said, swallowing the knot in her throat.

“His loss. And I mean that, Miranda.” Aaron dealt her in. There was simply no accounting for Englishmen.

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End Note:

A note on Yellow Chartreuse: Chartreuse began its life as a potion, an elixir of life. The Carthusian Monks turned it into a liqueur and have been producing it since 1737. Only three monks at any one time know the full recipe. I think it is exactly the sort of thing that a Potions Master would drink.

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