Chapter 17
Snape finds himself sitting in the living room as you manically prepare for tea with Minerva - you’ve politely told him he was in the way. He is better suited out of your way today. You’ve decided to use the formal dining room and have been setting up and baking for a while now. Snape told you to merely make a pot of tea and be done with it, but you’re being your normal self, going above and beyond and attempting to make everything perfect.
Snape worries as the clock is getting close to the hour. He sent simple and clear instructions to Minerva on how to find the portkey in his office. He wonders if she will be precisely punctual.
“Severus!” you call out, sounding needy. He stands and strides through the kitchen and through the doorway to the dining room. His brows pop up as he sees you smiling, gesturing to the table. It is appeasing to the eye. You’ve put a tablecloth on it and decorated it beautifully with white and gold tea cups and dishes. There’s a round candle burning in the center of it. Something is baking in the oven that smells heavenly. “What do you think?”
“It looks wonderful, darling. You’ve outdone yourself…for a simple tea.”
You frown, dramatically. “I want to impress this woman! She sounds important to you.”
Snape nods. “She is,” he agrees. He walks to you and places his hands on each side of your head. “Thank you for this. I appreciate it.” He leans down and kisses you simply.
He looks at you up and down, smiling at the long sleeves light cream colored dress and tights you’re wearing. Your hair is even done in a long braid. “Very pretty,” he murmurs.
You smile sweetly at him. Snape turns his head as he hears an apparition. He begins to walk to greet Minerva, but you grab his sleeve. He furrows his brows when he sees you have a look of panic. “Oh, I’m nervous!” you whisper, abruptly.
“I’ve known her nearly all of my life. What is there to be nervous about?”
You stare at him, narrowing your eyes. Snape nods, now understanding. He takes your hand from his arm, squeezing it once, then walks back towards the living room. Minerva stands there, holding a paper bag in her arms, dressed in her typical robes and witches hat.
“Good afternoon,” Snape greets, looking at her tentatively. She smiles kindly, looking around. She wants to meet you, evidently.
“I brought some chocolate frogs,” she informs. “Where is [first name]?” She walks to Snape and hands him the bag.
Snape gestures behind him. “Trying to be a perfectionist for a bloody spot of tea,” Snape says, a little annoyed.
“I’m trying to make it pretty for Minerva,” you say, approaching now. When you enter, Snape watches Minerva - her face lights up and she begins to laugh sweetly. You walk to her and hold your hand out. Minerva grabs it immediately with both her hands.
“Oh, aren’t you a darling!?” she beams, smiling widely. You return the expression. “I thought Severus was making you up for a moment.”
You snicker, glancing over your shoulder at Snape, who merely rolls his eyes. “Welcome to my home, well, our home!” you greet, looking at Snape again. He brings a hand up and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Come, come,” you guide, gesturing with your hand.
You lead Minerva into the dining room. “You’ve outdone yourself,” Minerva says, impressively. “You didn’t need to do all of this.”
You smile, thanking her. “That’s what I tried to tell her,” Snape mumbles. You shoot him a look and Snape promptly presses his lips together, lest he get a lashing from you.
“Minerva, you sit here since you’re our guest,” you welcome, pulling out the chair at the head of the table. She sits down happily. “I’ll go get the tea.”
You zoom out of the room before Snape can ask which chair he is allowed to sit in. He mildly panics briefly, before sitting down to the right of Minerva. He glances at her, to find her already staring at him with her aging eyes. She reaches out and grabs his forearm, squeezing.
“She’s delightful! Polite. Pretty! You better not mess this up, Severus,” she says, raising her brows warningly. Snape looks down into his lap, modestly. He knows how lucky he is. Now, others see it too.
“She has a lovely home,” Minerva says, releasing her grip on Snape. She looks around, complimenting the antique crown molding on the walls.
“Yes, I like it here. The town is quiet, too. These streets and houses here are well kept and the greenery is taken care of. Not like Spinner’s End with all of the traffic and abandoned homes. I never realized how run down it actually was.”
Minerva nods. “Well, if you treat this woman right, you won’t ever have to go back there.”
Snape looks at her, nodding. You emerge with a tray of tea, radiating happiness. You are loving every moment of this. You sit it down and prepare it for the lot of you. You’ve even made fresh finger sandwiches.
“I made these this morning, my granddad’s recipe,” you reveal, placing them down for the table. Snape grabs his teacup and takes a drink.
“So, [first name], tell me about how you and Severus met.”
You look over at him, on the brink of laughing. “Well, it was right after Christmas. Severus comes into my bakery and is completely rude and short with me. I even tried to give him a free scone and he was mean. I politely told him to leave when he was finished and to forget his bill.”
Minerva chuckles lowly, looking between you and himself, nibbling on a sandwich. “He came back the very next day.”
Snape clears his throat. “She didn’t tell you how she gave it right back to me. I had not conversated with someone like that since well before the war. She piqued my interest. Treated me like a normal person.”
He glances at you to find you gazing at him with a little smile on your face. “Her pretty face kept me coming back.”
You roll your eyes, chewing your food, before continuing. “Then, mind you, he gets me to add my mobile number in his phone. When I opened it, he had no other contacts. I thought he was trying to kill me!”
You all share a laugh. “Then I asked her for baking lessons. I had to slither my way into her schedule,” Snape says, cooly.
“Couldn’t you have just asked her out?” Minerva wonders.
Snape looks up, then shrugs a shoulder. “Looking back, it would have been easier to do that.”
You hold a finger up. “Yeah, let me finish this story. He calls me at, what, about one in the morning asking for these lessons. Then, one of the Death Eaters that were still around thought I was somehow connected to him and came after me!”
Snape points at you. “I saved you,” he reminds. You roll your eyes. He reaches forward and partakes in the food you’ve prepared. His brows raise when, not surprisingly, it’s delicious. Of course it is, you made it.
“We couldn’t stay away from each other after that,” you finish.
Minerva is overly content by all of this. It makes Snape internally gag. Why do her and Poppy care so much? He does not deserve their attention. You look at the empty tray of sandwiches, then stand from your chair and walk away, hurrying back into the kitchen. You emerge with more food to graze on. This time, they are scones beautifully decorated in fruit.
“You are so talented, these look like they belong in a recipe book,” Minerva boasts, helping herself to one. She nods as she chews, covering her mouth with her hands. “Delicious,” she compliments.
You rest your head on your hand, glowing in happiness. You’re loving this. Snape is pleased. At least he doesn’t have to entertain Minerva on his own. “My grandad taught me everything about baking. From the time I could walk, I had a whisk in my hand.”
Snape chuckles softly, trying to imagine the toddler version of you with a whisk in hand. “I am sorry to hear about his passing,” Minerva says, tone softer. You nod, appreciatively.
“It has been difficult.” You look over to Snape, then look back to Minerva. “Severus helps a lot.”
This makes Snape feel things deep within he has never felt. People have relied on him before, especially during the war, even if they didn’t realize they did. You realize and appreciate him. It feels good to be not only wanted by you, but needed and useful.
“This makes my heart so happy. I thought Severus would die alone,” Minerva admits, offering him a look of worry.
“Well, if things stay like this, he won’t have to,” you say, laughing. Snape stares at you now, gazing, lost in you. He could look at you for the rest of his life and never grow tired.
You all continue to conversate for a while. When it dies down, you clear your throat.
“I have a special dessert for us,” you reveal, excitedly.
“Is that what you were up last night making?” Snape wanders. You didn’t come to bed until past midnight.
“It has to rest for a day for best results,” you explain, standing and exiting the room to retrieve it. It takes you a few minutes, and Snape swears he smells something burning. He almost rises from his seat to see what is going on, but he hears you approaching again. You sit a tray of short, ceramic bowls down. They’re covered with a hardened layer of sugar.
“This is crème brûlée. I bet the wizards don’t make this!”
Minerva laughs, shaking her head. “I can’t say I’ve had it before,” she admits. You pass the bowls out and sit down, grabbing your spoon.
“It's so delicious, but a bit tedious to make,” you explain. “It is custard with a caramelized sugar topping.”
Snape arches a brow, not very keen on sweets, but is intrigued. He has to use a little force to break through the top, but puts some on his spoon and brings it to his mouth. His throat makes a pleased noise without his consent.
“Oh, this is heavenly,” Minerva concludes. You nod, taking your second bite already.
“Thank you,” you say. “My grandad would make this for my nan on their anniversaries. I’d always get some, too, of course.”
Snape takes another bite. When he’s emptied his bowl, he’s a bit shocked. “Very good,” Snape murmurs.
“Severus, you better watch yourself, she’ll make you gain weight,” Minerva jokes. “Not that you don’t need to gain a few pounds.”
This makes you snort. “He is all bony!” you agree, laughing with Minerva. Snape rolls his eyes. These women will be the death of him - the snake didn’t do a good enough job, apparently. The gods have decided this is what he deserves.
“Funny,” Snape comments, broodingly. Minerva is about half way through her dessert when she opens her mouth to speak, but hesitates. She looks to you now.
“So, you were raised by your grandparents,” she begins. You nod, raising your brows. Snape already knows where this is going. He’s not yet had the nerve to just ask you about it bluntly. But, Minerva, in her old age, doesn’t seem to mind asking. “What happened to your mum and dad?”
Your face slowly falls to no expression at all. Snape stares at you, waiting for an answer. You think briefly, before shrugging. “They didn’t leave me or anything. Growing up, my school mates thought that,” you begin. You seem to shift uncomfortably in your seat. “When I was almost four years old, my parents went into the city to celebrate their anniversary. They went to a fancy dinner, had drinks at a nice pub, and went to see a theater performance. It was late when the show was through, just past midnight. They left the theater and were heading to the main road.” You press your lips together, almost grimacing.
“A robber somehow got in their path. Demanded their wallets and jewelry. From what my grandad told me, it seemed like they were compliant. That they gave their wedding rings and wallets to the man. When they had turned to hurry away, the robber proceeded to…assault them with a knife in their backs. By the time an ambulance got there, my father had already passed - he had appeared to have thrown his body over my mother when she was struck. My mother was still alive and spent a few hours in the hospital before she succumbed to her wounds.”
This makes Snape feel physically sick. He needs fresh air, or a cocktail perhaps. Minerva leans forward, touching your arm gently. “You poor girl. That is awful. I do not know what to say.” You shrug, placing your hand on hers.
“At least I don’t remember them,” you admit. You seem like you want to say more, but opt against it.
Minerva seems to want to change the subject - it is a bit hard to listen to. She grabs Snape’s arm. “Are you going to the Remembrance Ball?”
Snape scoffs, recalling the invitation he received from Potter last week. Some party about remembering those who died during the war. How morbid. “No,” he replies. “I will not be in attendance.”
“It’s happening at the school, you ought to go, you’re the Headmaster-“
Snape lurches forward, fueled by anger now.
“And, what, mingle with those who thought me dark and evil throughout my entire life?” Minerva doesn’t flinch at his aggression. She is used to it. Neither do you, baker girl. He meets your eyes - they’re wide and on edge. He slowly leans back, beginning to tap his fingers against the tabletop.
“You were indispensable, Severus, in the war. People appreciate what you did. Want to thank you. Learn more of the work you accomplished during it all.”
Snape shakes his head, waving the conversation away with his hand. “They want to do those things only after Potter confirmed my allegiance with my memories as proof,” he adds, distastefully.
Minerva looks down into her lap. “I thought the same. I’m sure you recall our duel,” she reminds, regretfully. “I believed you were evil. You played your part well.”
Snape opens his mouth, not knowing what he will spew out next, but you clap your hands together once, silencing him. “Okay!” you announce, standing, beginning to pick up the table. “No more talk of this, please,” you request.
“Apologies, [first name], I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Minerva says, regretfully.
“Maybe if someone could control how he reacts, it wouldn’t make things so sour,” you say, sarcastically with joy. You sweep out of the room again, to deliver the dishes to the kitchen. Minerva takes a sip of her tea, glancing at Snape before quickly looking away. You return and sit down, crossing your legs and leaning back with your cuppa.
Snape places his elbow on the table to rest his head on his hand, feeling guilty now. He doesn’t want to spoil this tea, especially since you’ve put so much effort in. Your eyes dart to him and he has to glance away.
“Was Severus as sulky as a child as he is now?” you wonder, cracking a smile. Minerva laughs lowly, covering her mouth with her hand. Snape continues to brood, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.
When tea is finished and the conversation finally goes dry, thank Merlin, Minerva stands and states she should be going. She has lessons to go over before classes resume on the morrow. Snape stands when you go to escort her back to the portkey. You give Minerva a hug and thank her for coming. She returns the gesture, thanking you for the grand tea. She glances at Snape, as if she’s debating to hug him as well, but decides against it when he offers her a sneer. When she leaves, Snape collapses down onto the sofa, exhaling.
“Well, that was lovely,” you say, sitting down next to him, extending one arm to lay across his back. He leans into you, sighing again.
“You outdid yourself, darling.”
Your hand finds his and you interlock your fingers together, rubbing him gently.
“What’s this ball, now? You don’t wish to go?” you wonder.
“Not in the slightest,” he breathes, shutting his eyes. “It’s been almost two years since the war. It still feels like yesterday. I can still feel my hand holding my wand to Dumbledore, casting the curse that killed him. I can still feel it in my stomach. I cannot even describe the feeling with an emotion. It wasn’t anger or sadness or regret.”
You look up, thinking. “Foreboding?” you suggest. Snape ponders for a moment, then nods.
“Yes, very foreboding, that’s a better way to describe it,” he agrees.
“I think it could be good for you. To be around these people who doubted you for all that time. If you skip out, they may think you…don’t care about those who lost their lives.”
Snape stares at you, remaining silent. You stick your lower lip out, pouting. “And, I really want to go to a wizard ball.”
Snape nods, knowing that must be your true intention for bringing this topic back up. “Allow me to think about it,” he offers. You squeal in excitement. How can he deny you, baker girl? You’ve been far more than what he could have ever asked or hoped for. How can he say no to you, even if it means he has to suffer through conversations with those who despised him and vice versa.
“I’m going to go visit my nan and stop by the pub. I need to figure out Cole’s availability next week,” you begin, standing. Snape keeps a hold of your hand, arching a brow. “I’ll have the insurance check tomorrow. I’ll have to take him into the city with me for his opinions on things, paint and flooring and such.”
Snape rolls his eyes. “Because he has such good tastes?”
You laugh. “No, because he works at the bakery. He’s doing a good job, no matter how badly you want him to fail.”
Snape shrugs a shoulder. “I don’t wish the man to fail. I merely wish he would find new employment away from my partner.”
You snort, squeezing his hand. “Your jealousy is comical,” you say, grinning. You yank him up to his feet, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands come up to your back.
“Why is it funny?” he wonders. You lean up and press your lips against his.
“Well, for starters, I would never let him hold me like this. I would never kiss him. I would never tell him I loved him.”
Snape lets out a pleased sigh. “I would kill him if any of that happened,” he warns, playfully.
“Would you really?” you wonder, narrowing your eyes at him. Snape looks up, pursing his lips.
“No, but I’d hex him badly,” he admits. You giggle, pecking a kiss to his cheek, then pulling out of his arms. You head to the door, grabbing your bag and pulling your shoes on.
“Oh, do you mind cleaning up with magic?” you ask, peaking around the wall at him from the foyer. He pulls his wand out and swishes it. You dishes begin to wash and objects are put away in cupboards. You smile. “I can get used to that,” you say.
“Shall I accompany you?” Snape wonders. You stare at him, looking a little shocked by his offer.
“It’s quite boring at my Nan’s facility. She hasn’t talked lately. I mainly bring her treats and sit quietly. She’s been worse these past weeks.”
Snape shrugs, not minding. “I’d like to meet her,” he says, indifferently. You nod, then pop into the kitchen. As Snape is pulling on the leather jacket he's been sporting all week when you’ve both gone out, you return with a container of the dessert you made with tea.
You slip into the garage and Snape follows you. You stop before opening the door to the car. “Want to drive?” you ask, smirking. Snape cocks his head. “It’s just a few minutes. I’ll teach you.”
Snape walks around to you and takes the car keys from your hand. He gets inside the car - his knees press against the dashboard. When you get in, you open your mouth, but notice his discomfort. You reach between his thighs and pull something beneath and the seat slides back.
“Okay, first, we buckle up.” Snape reaches behind him and pulls the belt across him, clicking it in. You do the same. “The key goes here,” you say, pointing to the ignition. He inserts it and waits, pressing his lips together.
“Turn it,” you instruct. He nods, turning it and the engine kicks on. You nod, leaning back. “So, to change gears, you must press the brake.” You point to the brake at his feet. He places his foot on it, then grabs the shifter. You watch him tentatively as he puts it in reverse. “Good job. Now just slowly-“ Snape lets completely off the brake and the car jolts backwards. “Slowly! Don’t move your foot completely off the brake!”
He slams his foot down and the car halts harshly. You begin to laugh. Snape gets a little irritated at this muggle inclined machine. His hands grasp against the steering wheel.
“Gently let off the brake until we are near the road. And look both ways before pulling out.”
He nods, beginning again. He looks in either direction before getting into the road. As he backs into the street, he begins to turn the wheel. “Perfect. Now press the brake all the way and change it to drive.”
He follows your instructions. Soon you’re taking off down the road at a leisurely speed. “So, mind the speed limit,” you say, pointing at the sign. “Watch for stop signs and traffic lights.”
He comes to a stop at an intersection, looking both ways. “Right?” he asks. You nod. He turns and begins to accelerate again.
“Perfect. Go through three lights and turn left. It’ll be down on the right side.”
Snape is somewhat enjoying this. It’s peaceful, driving. Different from apparition or flying, but he doesn’t mind it. When he’s about to turn left, you point ahead. “Just watch for any cars coming. The blinking yellow means we can go, if it’s clear. If not, we wait until it is.”
He lets another car go by before turning. You place your hand on his thigh. “You’re pretty good! I hit curbs and ran a stop sign when I was learning.”
Snape chuckles. “I doubt I have it mastered,” he comments, pulling into the memory facility. He likes driving you, mostly. You shouldn’t have to drive yourself places. He should drive you, if he’s with you.
“Just park inside the lines in a space.”
He obeys your command. When he comes to a stop, he places the car in park and turns off the engine. “Well done,” you compliment, throwing your seatbelt off. He follows you into the facility.
The check in process is easy for you - they call you by your name, easily recognizing you. They stick a name tag on your shirt and do the same for Snape. You grab his hand, pulling him with you as you head down the hallway. You pass through a big room with tables and couches and a television. A few residents are out - some are coloring or making crafts while others are just wandering or talking to themselves. It reminds him of the ward at St. Mungos where the insane stay. They acted like this, too.
When you arrive at your Nan’s room, you knock politely before going inside. Snape follows you, gently shutting the door. He copies you when you take your shoes off. This suite is quite grand - there’s a small dining room off the kitchen. Down one way, he suspects a bedroom and bathroom. You head down the opposite, though, towards the living room.
“Nan?” you call out. Snape enters the living room, seeing you kneeling in front of your grandmother, who’s sitting in an armchair. She’s well put together, in slacks and a blouse with her hair curled neatly. “Good afternoon. How are you doing?”
Snape slowly sits down on the sofa, watching you interact with her. Or attempting to, anyway. She’s just staring off into the room, clearly out of her mind.
“I’ve brought my boyfriend,” you say, cheerfully. “Do you remember me telling you about him?”
She makes no inclination to respond. You sigh, standing, sitting the container of dessert down on the coffee table. You grab a blanket that’s on the floor and begin to fold it, sitting it down over the back of the couch. You pick up some books now, stacking them neatly on the table.
“Where’s Louis?” your grandmother calls out. Her voice sounds like it hasn’t been used in ages. Her eyes are on you now, seemingly focused. Snape wishes to leave suddenly - your grandmother has acted out in the past. He doesn’t want to witness it or see you frustrated.
“Oh, he’s sick. He sent me dessert for you,” you reply. She frowns.
“He doesn’t visit me,” she says, flatly.
“He would, if he wasn’t sick,” you say, a little forced. Snape sinks back into the cushions of the sofa, feeling how tense it is in the room. You snatch the dessert off the table and go into the kitchen to fetch a plate, preparing it for her. She stands, striding towards you.
“[First name],” Snape warns, leaning up. You look over your shoulder as she approaches you. She snatches the plate from your hands and throws onto the floor, shattering it, ruining the sweet you worked hard to make. You grow furious in the face as Snape rises to his feet.
“Why would you do that?!” you demand.
“Go get Louis!” your grandmother demands.
“Sit down!” you say, grabbing her arm and leading her from the kitchen. It is a little harsh - but you probably don’t want to see her step in the broken glass. She struggles with you, getting out of your grasp, glaring at you. You stand there, inhaling angrily, trying to remain calm.
“Go get Louis now!” she yells instead. “I want to see Louis!”
“He can’t come today,” you make clear. She grabs a vase of flowers from where her television sits, throwing it down.
“Get Louis!” You kneel and begin to pick up the glass, shaking your head.
“Please, nan, sit down!” you beg. She presses her hands to her head, frustratedly. You stand, heading to the trashcan to throw the glass away, but your grandmother grabs your hands harshly, making you wince. “You’re hurting me!” you growl.
“Where is Louis!?”
It only takes Snape one step to get to the both of you - he reaches down and grabs her wrists tightly, making her release you. You hurry and throw the glass out, then rinse your hands in the sink, wincing. The door to the suite opens and a worker hurries in, looking around.
“What happened?”
“What happened is she’s mental! Breaking things and yelling and - has she gotten her medicine today? Has anyone even visited with her?!” you demand, holding a napkin in your hands.
“We do, Miss [last name], she’s been quiet in the recent weeks-“
“She hasn’t been this crazy in ages! Maybe she ought to be seen by a doctor,” you snap.
“This isn’t the first time she’s hurt you or us,” the worker says, guiding your grandmother gently to her chair. “What’s wrong, Hazel? Your granddaughter wants to visit,” the worker says quietly.
“I want to see my husband!” she wails.
“He just visited last week. He got you those flowers. Don’t you remember?” She looks at the flowers on the floor, shaking her head. “He’s just under the weather this week.”
Your grandmother, who now is named, doesn’t reply. The worker tries to coax her to talk, but she doesn’t say anything else. Snape walks to you, grabbing your hands, seeing them cut and bloody. You pull away from him, turning your back, dabbing at the cuts with a napkin.
“We ought to leave her alone. I will clean the rest up,” the worker says, standing.
You snatch Snape’s hand and pull him with you as you head to the door. Snape pulls his shoes on, kneeling, beginning to tie them. He glances at you, who is struggling with your hurt hands to put your own on. He reaches over and helps you pull them on your feet.
When you get out into the hallway, Snape begins to walk, but you stay put. “I need to apologize to her,” you say, referring to the worker. Snape looks down at you, seeing silent tears falling from your eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. You shrug.
“Do you think I’m cursed, Severus?” you wonder. Snape furrows his brows. “My parents, dead. My grandad, dead. My nan, alive, but unable to be herself.”
“Stop that,” Snape commands. You look down, wiping steadfast tears from your eyes with the back of your bloodied up hand. Snape wraps one arm around you, rubbing your back. “You aren’t cursed. You’re astonishing. Anyone else would have been mad at the world and pity themselves. You are the opposite. Kind and caring, this world doesn’t deserve you,” he quietly rants. He lets you go when the door opens. The worker comes out, looking apologetic. You clear your throat.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude or ungrateful. I couldn’t take care of her alone if I tried. You all do a wonderful job-“
The worker presses her hand to your shoulder. “It’s alright, darling. You know, you’re the one who visits most, out of all of the families here. Not many come to see their family members. No one certainly sends us sweet treats from their bakeries, either.” You laugh, voice thick with grief. “Try again next week.”
You nod. Snape follows you out, watching you closely. He didn’t know you did that, sent your sweets here. How sickeningly kind. Another thing to adore about you, he supposes. You glance at him when you approach the car, silently wondering if he will drive again. He gets into the driver's side.
Once you’re both buckled in, you glance down at your hands. “I’ll heal them,” Snape says, withdrawing his wand. As he aims the tip of it to your hands and begins to heal the cuts, your sniffle. Snape glances at you - you’re crying again.
“I wish she were the one who died,” you choke out. “Why couldn’t she have gotten cancer, instead of my grandad? She was already sick. It isn’t fair.”
Snape sighs deeply. His heart bleeds for you - he is unsure of how to respond, how to quell you. “Such is life.”
“You shouldn’t have come.”
“I’m glad I did,” Snape says, leaning back and sticking his wand back up his sleeve.
“Thank you,” you say, holding your healed hands up. “For healing me. And for coming with me.”
Snape leans his head down and kisses your head, letting his lips linger for a moment. “To the pub, then? A drink will do you good,” Snape says, smirking.
You nod, leaning your head back. Snape starts the car and heads there.
Severus holds the door open for you to the pub. You walk in, seeing Cole wiping the bar down, heading up to it and sitting down. You throw your bag down, loudly, making Cole turn around. He grins, tossing the hand towel he was using over his shoulder.
“Good day to you two,” he greets, glancing at Severus as he sits beside you.
“Something strong for me,” you request. Cole laughs, glancing at Severus.
“Whiskey,” he murmurs. Cole nods, turning his back and beginning to assemble drinks.
“When are you free in the next few days?” you wonder. Cole shrugs.
“I’m on the late shift here all next week. I’m at your disposal until the evenings,” he replies. Severus scoffs, rolling his eyes. You elbow him, giving him a dirty look.
“Wonderful. I have a list of everything that was destroyed at the bakery. We’ll have to replace the outside that was burned, tables and chairs, floors, lighting. A few other things. I need you to come with me to hire these people and pick out tasteful things.”
Cole nods. “Sure,” he complies. “How much money did we get from the insurance?”
“I’ll know tomorrow.”
Severus glances at you like, why does he need to know that information? Cole turns around, then leans down and examines your face, then looks at Severus. “What?” Severus retorts.
“Have you been crying?” he wonders, looking back at you. You nod, wiping your eyes again, probably making them more red.
“Yeah, my nan was crazy today,” you explain.
“Did you think I made her cry?” Severus inquires. You put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, silently calming and warning him to behave. Cole holds his hands up, turning back around to finish the drinks. He serves them to you both.
“Chips?” he offers.
“No, we had tea with Severus’ friend today. I made so much food,” you say, smiling.
Cole nods, striding down the bar to tend to another patron. You glance at Severus, watching him take a large drink of his liquor.
“He thought I made you cry,” he says, sourly. You roll your eyes.
“You have before,” you remind. Severus glances at you, then scoffs. “Well, you have!” you whisper.
You take your drink and begin to chug it, needing to loosen up after that whole interaction with your nan. Severus rests his chin on his hand.
“I’ll miss you when I return to work tomorrow,” Severus says, gazing at you. You stare back at him, then frown.
“I’ll miss you more,” you reply.
“I’m afraid that isn’t possible.”
You blush. “Just quit. Find a job here, in town.”
Severus chuckles lowly. “After this school year, I’ll be taking time off of work entirely.”
Your brows raise. “What will you do?”
He looks up, pondering in thought. “Hmmm, what will I do?” he asks, rhetorically. “Spend my days with the woman I adore, take her to magical places, romance her, get to know every last detail of her mind,” You grin at him stupidly as he leans into your ear. “Fuck her senseless,” he breathes. You giggle, pushing him back.
“Stop it,” you say. He smirks, looking at you up and down, lustfully. “You’re bad,” you point out.
“I cannot help that my beautiful girl tempts me so immensely,” he replies.
He reaches out and smoothes your hair back. “You have to work sometime, don’t you? We all need a paycheck.”
“Lucky for you, I have a lump sum of money stowed away. Living at Hogwarts is free and I have been saving my salaries for years. And a First Order of Merlin pays handsomely.”
“That special ribbon in your office?” you ask, recalling the award sitting near his desk. He nods. “Wow, I bagged a rich man,” you boast. Severus chuckles.
“You are far from poor,” he comments. You nod, shrugging.
“When my parents and grandfather died, I got all the wealth left over. It is a large amount,” you explain. “I don’t want to use it though, not until my nan passes. I need to make sure I give her a nice funeral. And if for some reason her mind gets better, she can use the money for whatever she wants.”
Severus looks at you, shaking his head. “Do you think she’ll get better?” he asks, in disbelief. You shake your head.
“No, but miracles happen,” you say, hopefully. Severus nods, finishing off his drink.
“Miracles do happen,” he agrees. “I found you, after all.”
Severus drives you both home - you've spent the last few hours at the pub, getting happily drunk. He stopped drinking ages ago, probably not wanting to have a hangover in the morning. When you get inside, you kick your shoes off and drop your bag, watching Severus come in behind you. You help him take his jacket off, smoothing your hands over his chest, gazing up at him with big, needy eyes.
“Can you fuck me senseless now?” you ask, suggestively. He chuckles, intertwining his fingers into the hair at the back of your head, pulling you back. He leans over you, backing you into the wall, consuming your lips with his.
“I should leave you aching, so you think of me tomorrow when I am working,” he huskily breathes over your mouth.
“Mmm,” you purr. “Please do. Maybe I can tell Cole all about it tomorrow,” you tease.
Severus grabs your jaw in one swift movement, cocking his head, squeezing. “Don’t test me, young lady,” he warns.
You reach down, inhaling deeply and needfully, grabbing his belt and undoing it. Severus looks down at your hands, then nods approvingly. “That’s my good girl, already so obedient to please me.”
You moan and pull your head out of his hand, then kneel in front of him, continuing to undo his trousers. “This pleases me far more than it does you,” you assure. “I love having you in my mouth.”
Severus groans, bringing his own hands to his waist to help you. He shoves his pants and underwear down his legs, his cock already hard and standing out for you. You sigh, taking him into your mouth, placing your hands on his thighs. You squeeze his skin, greedily.
“Fuck,” he sighs, placing a hand on the side of your head possessively. You moan lowly as you take the full length of him into your mouth. He’s a big man - it took you several different tries to get him fully in your mouth in the beginning of your relationship. Now, your throat can take him like a professional whore. Sucking his cock is one of the only ways to get him to be so verbal during sex. Besides his cock turning you on as you bob your head up and down his length, his little sighs and curses make you shamefully soaked. “You’re so good at that,” he says, his head lulling back.
He allows you to suck him for several minutes, taking small breaks from your mouth when he gets too close, giving you a chance to breathe before plunging himself back inside. He has your back pressed up against the wall now, thrusting himself into your open, willing mouth, breathing heavily and mutters curses beneath his breath. You need some sort of relief between your legs, you’re becoming too aroused. You shift on your knees, keeping him immersed in your throat, and shove your hand down the front of your pants.
“What are you doing?” he demands, pulling your hand right out.
“Please,” you say, pulling your mouth off of him. “I need it,” you whine. Severus offers you a scowl before slapping his hand lightly over your cheek. You gasp, grasping onto his legs so you don’t fall over.
“This is my time for pleasure,” he corrects. “Not yours.” You groan, sticking your lower lip out. He’s in a dominating mood tonight. Maybe he knows you need it after today. He grabs your head and presses the tip of his cock to your lips, pushing inside. The force of it knocks your head back against the wall. You moan, sucking and swirling your tongue. “What a pretty slut, sucking my cock so well,” he praises.
You pick up the pace, squeezing your legs together. Your throat is soaked and there’s a noise that comes and goes each time you suck his length in. He groans deeply, breathing heavily, on the verge of an orgasm again. He presses against your shoulder to pull out of you, but grasp onto the back of his thighs, holding on, keeping your mouth on him.
“Stop it!” he commands, voice cracking. You groan at how unguarded he sounds. As he prys your hands off of his legs and pulls out of you, his cock begins to spurt out cum. He groans, angrily, but begins to move his hand up and down himself, letting the majority of your face take his release. “You fucking brat,” he hisses as you shut your eyes. He places one hand on your shoulder to steady himself, continuing to allow the ropes of cum to spatter your face.
“I’m sorry,” you sigh, opening your eyes to see him glaring at you. “I was working hard, I wanted to make you cum,” you whine.
“You will be sorry,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair. He proceeds to pull off his dress shirt over his head and shove it into your hands. “Clean yourself up,” he commands. You begin to wipe your face off. You sit the dress shirt on the floor beside you when you’re done. Severus reaches down and wraps his hand around your upper arm, pulling you up to your feet.
“I think you want to be punished,” he suspects, pulling you beside him as he ascends the stairs. You shake your head. “Blatantly disobeying me…” he clicks his tongue in disappointment.
He pushes your door open and pushes you inside the bedroom. “Undress,” he murmurs, shutting the door behind him.
You begin to scramble out of your clothes. Before you can step out of your pants, Severus shoves you forward, bent over the edge of the bed. He unclips your bra.
“Take this off,” he murmurs, still sounding furious. You lean up and he rips it off you, then presses a large hand against your back, pushing you down. He tugs off the rest of your pants, pleasingly sighing when you’re finally naked. You hear the belt around his pants fumble, then he leans over you, pressing his hips into your arse and grabbing your wrists with his hands. He tugs them behind you, crosses them, then begins to loop the belt around your wrists.
“No,” you mewl.
He tightens the strap, tugging, then leans down into your ear. He pushes your hair back with his hand then grabs a fistful of it, angling you to look at him. His black eyes are dark and angry.
“No?” he taunts. “You’re lucky I didn’t use my belt on your bare arse.” You wriggle your hips against him.
“Please, Severus,” you beg. Severus leers off of you, then kneels with one knee beside you on the bed. His warm hand cups the cusp of your bottom, fingers caressing the skin there.
“I would love to indulge you with my cock,” he admits. “But, seeing as someone decided to control my own pleasure, I cannot perform at the moment. Refractory period, or whatnot,” he breathes. This makes you giggle. Of course, he has to say something Intelligent sounding like that. Refractory period. You chuckle now, turning your face into the bed.
“Is that funny?” he questions, removing his hand from you. You nod into the bed, lifting your head to look over your shoulder at him - until his hand comes down and strikes your backside harshly.
“Fuck!” you choke out, your laughing quickly turning into a scream. Severus hums, pleased with himself.
“That’s what I thought,” he comments, lifting his hand and spanking you again. You gasp, trying to move your hands, but forget that they’re tied behind your back. “How many spankings do you deserve for your blatant disregard for obedience?”
You groan, whiningly. “None,” you say into the bed. He leans over you, grabbing you hips and grinding himself into your arse. His mouth comes to you ear, breathing against it.
“None?” he whispers, inquisitively. You turn your head, looking at him. He looks handsome - his dark eyes are studying your face, his black hair falls to one side with how he’s leaning over you. His long neck connects to the prominent collar bones of him. Black hair splattered across his firm chest. Something washes over him you can’t pinpoint. You feel his hands begin to undo the belt around your wrists. Once you're free, he moves off of you to push you to your back. You look at him, furrowing your brows - his eyes greedily run down your naked body.
“Move up,” he commands, gently. When you do, he parts your legs and collapses over you, your naked bodies pressing. He buries his head into your neck, sucking on the column of your throat. You sigh, bringing your hands up to his back, feeling the firmness of his body as you run them down.
“What, no spankings? Change of heart?” you sigh, feeling his cock perking up more against your thigh.
“I suppose,” he breathes against your neck before sucking harder. You arch your back - he’s kissing that sweet spot between your shoulder and neck you love so much. “I’ve decided I’d rather make love with you, before I return to work.”
He presses his lips to yours, pushing his tongue inside. You grasp at his arms, moaning into his mouth. “Unless you want to be spanked?”
You shake your head, giggling. “We haven’t done it in a while,” you agree. “Make love, as you so romantically put it.”
“You’re always too needy, too whorish,” he comments, leaning back and grasping one of your bare breasts gently. You laugh again, and it does something to him - something in his eyes changes. There’s warmth there, and something more you can’t place. He presses his mouth to your sternum, dragging his lips over one breast, sucking the nipple into your mouth. You sigh deeply, loving the way his tongue teases it. He pulls off of it, scattering little kisses down to your navel. He pulls your legs up, placing them over his shoulders as he presses his head between your thighs.
The first swipe of his tongue is fucking electrifying. Your back arches and your hands grasp at the bedding beneath you. “Yeah,” you sigh, eyes fluttering. His hands grasp your thighs as he begins to use his mouth on you. Panting, you lean your head up, staring at him as he indulges himself. His tongue toys with your clit, stimulating it. “Oh, yeah,” you praise.
His head turns up, his dark eyes meeting yours. “Yeah?” he mocks into your core. He uses one hand and reaches up to your chest, squeezing a breast for a moment before seizing your throat. You moan out as he shoves you down, squeezing the column of your neck pleasantly as he continues to pleasure you with his mouth.
“Fuck,” you choke out, wrapping your hands around his forearm. “Tighter,” you request, hips jerking when his tongue rubs circles of your nub.
“Tighter? Use your words,” he says before sucking your clit into his mouth. Your whole body jerks now.
“Choke me harder, sir,” you breathe, bucking your hips up into his mouth. He groans, applying more pressure. You writhe beneath him, sighing, bringing one hand up to his, squeezing even harder around his hand. His fingers press against your throat in a spot that makes you pleasurably light headed. “I’m going to cum,” you struggle to say, feeling the pinnacle of pleasure peaking. He pulls his mouth away before you come undone, breathing heavily, reaching down between his legs. You angle your head up, watching him running his hand up and down his stiffening cock. His eyes meet yours behind his curtains of hair.
“You want this cock?” he asks, lowly. You nod against his choking hand.
“Yes,” you say, then grin. “Fuck me with your big cock, daddy,” you moan. He groans, tugging one of your legs with his free hand around him. You wrap the other around his back as he leans over you. He rams into you so hard, the bed frame slams against the wall. You giggle, grabbing onto him, pulling him down to you.
“Daddy?” he asks, against your cheek. You're unsure if he likes it or not.
“Sir?” you offer. He moves his hips, pulling out of your tight, wet cunt to pump into you hard again. Your head lulls back and your nails dig into his shoulders.
“Go on, call me daddy,” he allows, starting up a slow pace but intensely thrusting. He takes his hand from your throat and you gasp for air. He pushes one of your legs from around him so your hips are turned to the side and your legs are out of the way. “You’re so tight,” he sighs, pressing your thighs together, forcing even more tight pressure. You both groan at the feeling. He pulls out and pushes back in - in this position, you feel so small and he feels so big, like he’s stretching more than he ever has.
“Fuck, just like that, daddy,” you beg. Severus grasps your hip and upper thigh, beginning to pound into you, seemingly fueled by the nickname. He hisses through his teeth, going faster and harder, making bluish green veins pop up in his arm. You grab onto one of his forearms, grasping for dear life, grunting with every thrust. You throw your head back, adoring how he feels right now.
“So good,” he groans, reaching down and grabbing your face with his hand, wanting you to look at him. You stare at him and he nods at you. His hands begin to roam your body, toying with your breasts and nippeles, taking selfish handfuls of your curves, looking down at your core as he ravages it. A rush of pleasure runs through you, making your toes curl.
“I love how you’re fucking me,” you sigh, mouth open, jolting up and down with each thrust. “Don’t stop,” you beg. You watch his lips part and he’s panting now from the exertion, sweat lightly shines on his forehead and chest. He’s so fucking beautiful right now. He begins to groan, biting his lip now. “Let me hear you,” you say, reaching up for him. He pulls back briefly, pulling your leg back around his waist and he leans down over you. His sweat covered, hot body envelops yours as he continues to thrust. You moan stupidly, clutching his arms as he gets faster and faster. “Come on, daddy,” you say, turning your head into his neck, kissing it. “Let me hear you.”
He angles his head so his mouth is breathing heavily over your ear. When he moans ever so lowly, it sends you over the edge. It’s a long, drawn out sigh, his voice is shaky and higher and, gods, it’s perfect. Your legs shake around him as you begin to cum around his cock. He digs his fingers into your side, throwing his head back, his face writhing in pleasure. You stare at him, mouth opened, moaning quietly, watching him. Trying to engrave his face into your mind.
“Fuck,” he whimpers, letting out a low sigh of a moan. Your eyes roll now and his thrusts are starting to get sloppy and you’re still cumming. When he slams himself to a halt, he collapses over you completely, spilling himself. “Fucking gods,” he sighs, nipping at your neck. You run your hands up and down his slick back as he finishes.
“Oh, wow,” you breathe, chest heaving against his. You bring your hands up to him, pushing his damp hair from his forehead. “Let’s do it like that from now on,” you say, stupidly, in a haze of pleasure. He chuckles, lifting his hips and pulling out of you, but remains on top of you. You don’t mind it, you like the weight of him, feeling every hard angle of his body and his skin. He presses his lips to yours, lazily, his hot tongue slowly caressing your own.
“You were so tight in that position,” he murmurs, pleased. “You’ll be sore tomorrow.”
He groans as he leans back, looking down at his glistening crotch. When he eyes your own, he arches a brow, smirking - proud of the mess he’s made. He holds his hand out, wanting you to get up, probably to rinse off. You sigh, grabbing it, letting him pull you up. When he does, you wrap your arms around his neck, then your legs around his waist. “I like you all sweaty like this,” you admit.
He makes a noise of disgust, carrying you to the shower. You pout when he makes you stand by yourself. The water falls over you both. You guide Severus under the shower, wetting his hair, then pour shampoo into your hand and begin to wash his hair. He sighs as your fingers massage his scalp, telling you how nice that feels. Once he rinses off completely, he steps out of the shower, letting you finish. Your mind is so clear, it’s weird. The alcohol and wonderful sex did that for you, you suppose.
When you wrap a towel around you and head into the bedroom, a blue glow is being emitted from inside. You slowly approach, peaking in. Severus has his wand pointed to the empty part of the room - a blue, ghost like creature is standing there. You recognize it…a Thestral, you recall. He stands there, frozen, watching it gallop around the room until it leaps through the window and disappears.
“I loved that,” you announce, smiling. Severus slowly lowers his wand, turning to you. “A Thestral, right? Those are beautiful creatures. I adored them at the Magical Underground.” You sit down onto the bed, finding your underwear and pulling them on. “Do it again tomorrow for me, I want to see it again, I just can’t think straight right now.”
His dark eyes stare at you, appearing astounded. You stand and pull up your underwear, then round to your side of the bed. You go to sit down, but Severus walks to you, placing his hands on your sides, staring down at you intently. You furrow your brows, opening your mouth to ask him why he’s acting weird, but he opens his.
“I love you,” he admits, finally. He leans down, embracing you, kissing you softly. You fall back onto the bed, throwing your arms around him, smiling widely. He keeps you in his arms as he lays beside you, gazing at you affectionately. You kiss his cheek, then his nose, stupidly happy.
“Say it again,” you whisper. He rolls his eyes and it makes you giggle.
“I love you,” he breathes.
“I love you,” you reply. He cocks a small smile before pressing his lips to yours again. You both end up under the covers. Severus lays behind you, legs intertwined with your own, with one of his arms clutching your waist. His head presses against the back of yours. He whispers against your hair that he loves you - your smile, your laugh, your kindness, forgiveness, strong-mindedness, how you are there for him, how you always make him feel at ease. He continues until sleep consumes you.
Neither of you have ever been so comforted or happy before in your life. Or loved, for the matter.