Grilled Cheese
As you entered the Great Hall, you were glad you decided to come to dinner early. There were only a small handful of other students already there, the prefect Hannah among them. She saw you as you approached her and her friends, smiling at you and making a spot for you on the bench.
“Hey, (y/n)! How was your first full day?” she asked enthusiastically, trying to include you in her conversation.
“It was good,” you said, trying to sound casual. “I explored for most of the day.”
“Good idea. Better to get lost now while you don’t have a class to get to, right?” she joked, and her friends all giggled along with her.
You smiled, but remembered you wanted to ask her about something. “Oh, I wanted to ask about this one professor. He’s tall and has long black hair - what’s his name? What’s, like, his deal?”
She nodded knowingly. “That’s Professor Snape, the potions teacher. He’s the head of house for Slytherin. He’s… alright, I guess.”
Her friend cut her off, “He’s TERRIBLE! No one likes him except those snooty Slytherins because he plays favorites terribly. Oh, god, don’t get me started on his classes!” she exclaimed eagerly, as if she was waiting for an opportunity to speak poorly of him. Everyone except Hannah tittered in agreement, and many of them began to voice their complaints with him.
“He assigned us a fourteen-inch-long essay overnight!”
“He gave me detention for talking in class, even though I was just trying to ask him a question!”
“He took 10 points away from Hufflepuff when a Slytherin boy bumped into me and made me spill my ingredients!”
Hannah tried to hush the group, glancing around nervously. “Guys - shh. I don’t like him either, but he has a habit of showing up whenever we start to complain about him,” she said, her head still on a swivel.
“Speak of the devil…” said one of Hannah’s friends - the first one to start the hate train on Professor Snape. You turned to look at what she was, and you saw him, striding in through the main doors of the Great Hall. As if attracted to you like a magnet, his eyes immediately found yours. You whipped your head away quickly, not wanting to be caught in his gaze for any longer than need be. “Did he talk to you?” Hannah's friend said, curious why you asked about him. You remembered her from this afternoon - her name was Jamie.
You paused for a moment, thinking. “Not really,” you decided. “He’s just… spooky,” you said, blushing a bit at how childlike you sounded. You chose not to share any unnecessary details with your classmates.
The group of girls laughed at that, many of them agreeing with you. As you made your plate of food, you heard tales of Professor Snape throughout the year. You almost shot pumpkin juice out of your nose when you heard the story of how a Boggart got turned into Professor Snape wearing a large “grandma hat.”
Eventually, the group calmed down as more and more students entered the Great Hall. As the noise level increased so did your stress levels, and you confined yourself to your plate of food, trying to block out everything else. The meal was simple, but nostalgic. Grilled cheese with tomato soup. You and Newt had it at least once a week. Newt made grilled cheese in a special way that made the bread extra crispy on the outside but extremely soft and fluffy on the inside. No matter how many times he stood behind you as you manned the grill, controlling your arms, you could never manage to make them just right.
The first bite of the sandwich sent you back to the small, cluttered kitchen in Newt’s briefcase. You had shared thousands of meals with him in the small room, walls pasted with recipes cut out from magazines and books. That was also where you shared your first kiss with Newt a few years after he took you in. It was after a long day of wrangling an especially difficult Nundu who had been wreaking havoc in the train lines under Glasgow. You had each come out of it with a few battle wounds, but nothing that couldn’t be patched up with some healing spells and ointments Newt already had. You both had been healed up, and were ravenous for something to fill your bellies. You and Newt decided on grilled cheese. You opened the cans of tomato soup and heated them up, while Newt did everything else.
Once you were done with your task (it took you less than two minutes), you sat down on the counter next to the stove while Newt prepared the sandwiches, admiring the way he skillfully cooked them to perfection. Newt did everything skillfully. You cracked a sly joke you couldn’t even remember now, and he looked up at you as charming laughter spilled out of his mouth. Your favorite sound. His eyes twinkled as he stared at your face, and you were breathtaken as you stared back at him. You always thought he was the most beautiful man in the world, and looking at him while your leg rested against his side made you forget everything else existed. The sizzling of the stove, the smell of the smoke, the faint crowing of birds and creatures all disappeared as you lost yourself in Newt’s eyes. Before you knew what was happening, soft lips met yours and strong arms encased your body, holding you gently as the kiss continued. You were frozen in shock. Newt… kissed you? Newt kissed… you? He pulled away, his face still inches from yours as worry crossed his features.
“…I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me-“ he started, worried at your lack of reaction, but he was cut off with you smashing your lips against his, teeth clacking together as you threw your arms around his neck. He stumbled back in surprise, but quickly regained his grip on the counter, pinning you against it as your mind raced at a million thoughts a second. You were kissing Newt! It was more than the chaste kisses on the cheek or forehead that he had given you before, this was full-out snogging. His hand left the counter, tracing up your body, squeezing everything he could before reaching your neck. Gently, he held your jaw and pulled away from you, a thin string of spit still connecting you. His eyes (you were sure yours were too) were dilated, nearly all-black instead of the usual soft hazel. He took a second to catch his breath, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Faces flushed, you still held each other, your hands on the back of his neck and in his fluffy brown locks, his hands on your jaw and against the counter, pulling himself close to you.
He made sure you were focused on him before murmuring gently “This alright?” He held you like a piece of precious glass that would shatter if he made one wrong move. You couldn’t force words out of your mouth, all you could do was nod enthusiastically, nuzzling into his chest and inhaling the signature Newt smell he carried everywhere. You smelled it on his clothes and in his sheets, but you had never been close enough to smell it on his skin. Now you were, and you were savoring every moment you breathed in the warm, earthy aroma he gave off.
That night, he took you for the first time while the grilled cheeses burned to a crisp on the stove. It was soft and gentle, like the very first time he kissed you. He laid you gently on his bed, having carried you from the kitchen to his bedroom. You felt the velvety sheets under your skin as you continued to stare up at him. He situated himself between your legs and cleared your hair from your face, his soft touch igniting a fierce blush across your entire complexion. He smiled at you, and you beamed back. You had fantasized about this moment a million times before, and it was finally happening. You knew Newt felt your excitement as his hand slipped underneath your pants and he reached your soaking panties, inhaling gently at the wetness.
Your face reddened even more as his slender fingers pulled the fabric to the side and prodded at you, sighing at the feeling of the gentle pressure on your wet core. You wriggled under his gaze when a digit pressed tenderly into you, and Newt pulled himself down to you, capturing your lips in his. He slowly, softly began to thrust his fingers in and out, in and out. He slowly sped up, fingers grazing every spot of your walls until he connected with the magical little bundle of nerves that made sparks fly behind your eyes. A lewd moan escaped from your lips as Newt continued his assault of your g-spot, grinning slyly at your pleasure.
“Newt… ghah… please,” you whimpered, toes curling as your climax drew closer and closer. You needed him in you soon, otherwise you would finish before he had a chance to. Thankfully, Newt knew what you needed and hastily removed his belt and unbuttoned his slacks. This wasn’t your first time seeing his member, but you still took advantage of the situation to stare and admire. It looked much nicer close up than from within the bushes outside of the bathhouse where you routinely spied on him in the shower. Cleanly and carefully groomed, it stood at an impressive height, slightly intimidating you.
Whispering sweet nothings in your ear, he lined himself between your legs and readied himself. “This okay? You alright?” he asked, wanting to make sure you were okay with this and wanted to continue.
“Yes, yes, yes!” you cried needily. He cupped your face in his hand and gazed lovingly into your eyes, seeming to stare straight into your soul. He pulled your face closer and pressed your lips together, muffling your obscene whines as he pushed slowly, slowly into you, pausing every few seconds to let you adjust. You felt so satisfyingly full as he finally bottomed out, waist flush against your core as he became fully sheathed within you.
A sudden, sharp pressure crept into the edges of your consciousness, dragging you back to the present with an unsettling force. You could no longer feel Newt’s soft lips on yours, just the cold, metallic spoon full of tomato soup on your tongue. Newt’s room disappeared around you, and the warmth of his body was replaced with the chilly air of the Great Hall. Your head jerked up, cheeks flushed and brow sweaty from your reminiscing. You glanced around skittishly, trying to figure out what happened. Everyone around you was continuing on as normal, and your grilled cheese sat half-eaten on your plate in front of you. Oh shit. You felt an invasive presence sifting through your thoughts. The sensation was intense and uncomfortable, like icy fingers digging into your mind. You instinctively drew your mental shields, recognizing the telltale signs of Legilimency.
Not now, not now, not now. Why now? Why must Professor Snape try this now? You crossed your legs, feeling a familiar warmth and dampness between your thighs. Fuck! You needed to get out of here - fast. You knew you couldn’t hold your mental shields for long, especially not in this state. The last thought you wanted Professor Snape seeing was your intimate memories with Newt, and you would rather eat out a hippogriff than let him know you were dripping wet and horny as a bitch in heat in the middle of school dinner from those memories. You tried to keep your gaze on your plate, knowing that it would make your focus break if you made eye contact with him.
You stood up a little too quickly, accidentally knocking over your spoon from the table. “Shit, sorry,” you said, to no one in particular. Instinctively, you quickly summoned it back into your hand without saying anything. Damn it. You forgot you weren’t supposed to use wandless magic. Thankfully, no one saw anything, but your focus faltered as you scolded yourself about it. Before you could correct yourself, Professor Snape noticed the weakness in your barriers and slipped in.
His focus sharpened, and you felt the unmistakable sensation of his mind piercing yours. Panic surged through you as you tried to reinforce your mental walls, but it was too late. Images began to flash uncontrollably in your mind, private memories now on display for your professor.
You were back at home, the smell of burnt cheese filling the air as you and Newt laughed over the charred remnants of the grilled cheese the morning after your first night together. You could see his smile, hear his infectious laugh, feel the warmth of his body beside yours. The memory shifted, and you were in a dense forest, running through the trees with Newt by your side, your bodies fueled by adrenaline as you continued to chase after the mischievous clabbert.
Professor Snape probed deeper, and the scene changed again. This time, you were in a hospital bed, bandages wrapped tightly around you, pain radiating through your body. Newt sat by your side, holding your hand, his eyes filled with worry and guilt. Another shift, and you found yourself in Newt’s graceful arms, his lips pressed against yours in a tender, lingering kiss. You felt the warmth of his breath, the softness of his touch, the feeling of being completely safe and loved within his embrace. You didn’t want Professor Snape to see this - you needed him out of your mind immediately.
Pulling together all the energy and focus you had left, you severed your connection with a tremendous effort that left you swaying. Hannah tried to ask you something, but you couldn’t hear her. Everything was muffled behind a thick screen of fog that clouded your thinking. Finally, you swung your leg over the bench and began to take measured, brisk steps towards the door of the Great Hall. All you wanted to do was collapse, but you were determined to reach your dorm room. You refused to let anyone see how rattled you were.
As you crossed the threshold of the hallway outside of the Great Hall, you glanced behind you at Professor Snape’s chair. His cold, dark eyes were fixed on you like before, but they were narrowed and hostile, making your heart jump into your throat. Quickly, you tore yourself away from his gaze and broke into a run, sprinting through the corridors, ignoring the yells of the portraits warning you of ‘No running in the halls!’
Finally reaching the sanctuary of your dorm room, you closed the door behind you, leaning against it as if it could somehow shield you from what just happened. Your breaths came in shallow, rapid bursts as you tried to process what had just happened. The memories Professor Snape had seen flashed before your eyes again: the accident, the injuries, the moments of vulnerability and intimacy you had shared with Newt.
You crawled onto your bed as the weight of it all pressed down on you. Professor Snape now knew of your relationship with Newt, and had witnessed some of the most private moments you shared with him. You hoped with everything in you that he didn’t catch a glimpse of the scene in Newt’s bedroom, your face heating up at the possibility that he did. You buried your face into your pillow, letting out a frustrated scream-groan at the situation you found yourself in.
The image of Newt's face, so vivid in your memory, brought a fresh wave of emotion. You missed him terribly, and now, with Professor Snape's intrusion, it felt like even those precious memories were tainted. How could you continue here with the constant threat of Snape prying into your mind? You felt exposed and vulnerable, even though you were alone in your private dorm room.
You needed to pull yourself together. You needed to be brave, for Newt. You remembered what he said in his letter: Take care and be brave. I’m so proud of you. You allowed yourself a few more moments of vulnerability before hoisting yourself up off your bed. Dusting off your pants, you remembered that you had a meeting with Professor McGonagall tonight. After a few deep breaths, you felt composed enough to face the world again. Straightening your shoulders and standing up straight, you opened your door and left the sanctuary of your dorm room, assuring yourself that today couldn’t get any worse than it already was.