Chapter 18
It has been a quiet and lonely last few days for you. Severus returned to work, leaving you missing him. You suppose time apart should be healthy, but you realize now how much you rely on him. Just having him at home with you makes you more comfortable and lively. With the bakery being repaired and you being unable to work, you don’t have much interaction with people. You’ve been tending to the garden and attempting to write poetry again in your free time. You’ve caught yourself frequently looking at the clock, waiting for the afternoon so you can watch for the call from Severus. Today is Wednesday and usually Severus will come spend the night. You hope he keeps up with that trend.
After spending a few hours tending to the soil, sprinkling fertilizer, and planting seeds in front of your house, you head inside, take your boots and gardening gloves off, and search for your mobile. You find it and turn it on, feeling a little let down when you see no missed calls. It’s past the time Severus should be done with work. You wonder what he is up to. You hope the school is in order and that Malfoy kid hasn’t been causing more trouble. What if something is terribly wrong and he cannot come home tonight? How would someone let you know if Severus is alright? Is the injury on his neck bothering him greatly again?
After getting refreshed from all of the work outside, you pull out what you planned for dinner and begin to cook. You plug in your MP3 player to a speaker and allow your mind to go blank as you prepare the food - Doctor Reed instructed you to do this when you’re thinking too hard. Listen to music, busy your hands. You realize you’re stressing yourself out. Severus is fine. He’s just being held up by something trivial.
You decide to call Severus when you’re nearing the end of the cooking. It’s nearly six in the evening. You don’t want to come off too high-maintenance, but you should have gotten a call by now at the very least! You’re scrolling through your contacts when an incoming call begins to ring. Your brows pop up eagerly, but it isn’t Severus who is ringing you. It’s Cole. You answer and put the phone to your ear, beginning to stir the vegetables on the stove.
“Hey,” you greet.
“Hey, [first name], how’re you?” he replies.
“Oh, doing well, you?”
“Good. What’s going on at work?” he wonders.
You pull the pan off the stove, then shut it off. “It’ll be done by the end of next week, they told me today. It’s looking wonderful, the building itself is fixed. They have to do electrical and plumbing repairs, then the cosmetic repairs. We should be back to work by the middle of May.” He’s silent for a moment. “We’ll be back soon. It’s like a vacation.”
He sighs. “Yeah, I suppose,” he agrees, half-heartedly.
You furrow your brows. “What is it? You miss our baking lessons?” you wonder, hearing something off in his voice.
That makes him laugh for a moment. “No, I need the cash. My other boss has no extra hours for me. I’ve done some side jobs here and there, but I’m flat broke.”
Your lips part in realization. He is missing money he would have earned by working at the bakery. “I’ll give you an advance. Where’s all your money going?”
He sighs deeply. “You know my kid brother, Chandler?”
You think for a moment. “I’ve seen him around,” you really. “Not recently, though.”
“He’s only here during summer. He goes to King’s College in London. I pay half his tuition. My mum pays the other half. He receives aid and scholarships, but it still has me scrambling for cash every month.”
Your eyes soften. The university is highly selective. You didn’t know someone related to Cole could be so intelligent. His poor mother is a secretary at one of the primary schools in the area, probably doesn’t make enough money to the pay bills, the care of her children, and for the tuition. It is nice Cole has offered to help his family. “How much do you need?” you wonder.
“A thousand or so pounds,” he mutters. “At least the school year is nearly done. I’ll be able to save up over the summer.”
You open the oven to check on your steaks, then shut it - they need to cook a little longer. “You want to come for dinner? I’ll give you the money, Cole. I’ll just slowly dock your pay over the next couple of months so you don’t go without.”
He sighs, sounding relieved. “Thank you, [first name]. You are a godsend. As for dinner, I don’t want to intrude on you and Severus.”
You shrug. “I don’t even think Severus will be joining me. Plenty of food, though, if you’re hungry.”
“Alright, see you in a bit.”
When the line goes dead, you sit your phone on the counter, staring at it, attempting to command it to ring with a call from Severus. You exhale, disappointedly, then lay your head on the counter, letting the cold stone cool your frustrated face down.
A few minutes later, you feel what could only be Severus’ hand press against the center of your back. You straighten up quickly, turning around, seeing him standing in the kitchen - with you, here, in the flesh. You smile widely, throwing your arms around his neck. You didn’t hear him appear over the music playing.
“Are you alright?” he inquires, embracing you just as tightly as you are him. You nod, exhaling, shutting your eyes as you take a deep breath of him in.
“Why didn’t you call me?” you wonder when you part from each other. It’s only now that you notice a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand. You take them from him, grinning, smelling them. “Thank you.”
“My mobile is out of battery. I seem to have left the charger here. Apologies.”
You stick out your lower lip, deciding to let his little mishap slide on the account of these beautiful flowers. You fetch a vase for them and begin to fill it with water.
“It smells delicious, what is it?” he asks, looking around the kitchen.
“Steaks, potatoes, broccoli,” you muse. He hums in delight. You catch him gazing at you while you put the flowers in the vase.
“Hm?” you wonder, when he continues to stare.
“I thought you demand a kiss each time we greet one another,” he reminds. You walk to him, acting puzzled.
“Apologies,” you reply, placing your hands on either side of his face. “We must rectify this situation immediately.”
He chuckles softly before leaning down and kissing you. You melt into him, pressing deeply with your mouth against his. He groans lightly, backing you into the counter. His hands greedily run down your body, taking handfuls of his favorite curves. You moan into his mouth, losing your air. When you go to pull back, one hand comes up to cup the back of your head, keeping you put. His tongue sweeps inside your mouth now, swirling and calculated. You pat his chest with your hands now, preparing to choke for air - but he has mercy on you. He moves his lips from yours, only to place them to the cusp of your neck.
“Jesus,” you pant, flushed. “You nearly suffocated me,” you sigh. He chuckles, leaning back to stare down at you.
“What a wonderful way that would have been to go,” he says, far too elated. You gasp, slapping his chest. Chuckling, he frees himself from you, saying he would like to change into something more comfortable. As you hear him climbing the stairs, you clear your throat.
“Cole is joining us for dinner,” you call out. He halts briefly, says nothing, and continues to ascend. You imagine he’s rolling his eyes, or sneering, but is having difficulty telling you no. You go and prepare the little table in the kitchen, smiling widely the entire time. You sit a candle in the center and light it, happy with its presentation.
“Oh, how romantic,” Severus chimes, sarcastically. “The bartender will be thinking that we’d like a third.” You gasp and whip around to look at him, turning red. Severus scoffs, beginning to go through the bottles of wine in the pantry. “A joke, darling.” He’s wearing slacks and a simple white short sleeved shirt, showing off his muscular arms.
You laugh, going to check on the food. It is ready, so you begin to prepare the plates. Once they’re all on the table and ready, you leave the kitchen and head upstairs. You need to go to the safe, which is located in your granddad's closet. You can’t bring yourself to go in, last time you were in his room, you went mental and imagined him.
“What are you doing? Your guest is here,” Severus calls, a little annoyed, from the landing of the stairs. You swallow, clearing your throat, hearing the front door shut gently.
“Can you come here?” you ask, tentatively. You hear Severus immediately begin to climb the stairs. When you see him, you wave him over. He cocks his head.
“What is wrong?” he asks. You gesture to the door, shutting your eyes.
“Can you go in there? To the closet, there’s a safe-“
“You need to go in there,” he cuts in, grabbing your jaw with one hand, making you open your eyes. “It’s just a room. It isn’t going to-“
“It is not! It’s where my grandad died, I can’t stand to look at it!” you whisper, grabbing at his arms, pleadingly. He gazes down at you, looking between your eyes.
“I will come in with you,” he compromises. You groan, then grab the doorknob, not wanting to keep Cole waiting. You push it open and scan the room before slowly walking in. You turn into the closet and kneel, beginning to unlock the safe. Severus presses a hand to your back.
“Last time I was in here, I imagined him, like a crazy person. He looked real,” you sigh.
“You are not crazy,” he murmurs. “I would tell you if you were, rest assured.” You roll your eyes as the safe clicks open. You count out the money and shut it when you have the correct amount. “Why are you loaning him money?”
You stand, folding the cash up to place in your pocket. “Is there something wrong with that? Helping out my friend? My coworker?”
Severus shrugs. “No, I do not want to see you fooled, however.”
You grab his hand and pull him behind you as you head out of your granddad's room. “That’s a perk of a small town and a big, intimidating boyfriend. If he does scam me, which he won’t, I’ll find out where he is and send you there to get what I’m owed.”
Severus scoffs, finding your comment hunerous. “Fine,” he agrees. “I forget not all are out to do dark deeds.”
You laugh quietly as you descend the stairs. “Yeah, not everyone’s an evil, magic wielding dark lord.” Severus laughs in turn, then goes quiet as you enter the kitchen. Cole is standing at the island, uncorking the wine Severus picked out.
“Nice to see you two,” he greets, grunting as he turns the coil to pull the cork out. “Lovely dinner.”
You smile, fetching three wine glasses and heading to the table. “Thank you,” you reply. You reach for your chair, but Severus’ hand flies out to slap your hand down. Before you can ask him what the fuck that was for, he pulls your chair out for you, arching a brow at you. You sit down, smiling. You all begin to eat.
“This is nice, I’ve missed talking with you both. Without work, it feels like I’ve become a shut in,” you say, filled with dread.
“If we don’t get back to work soon, you’ll end up having ten cats and a knitting addiction, like some crazy cat lady,” Cole jokes. You laugh, pointing your fork at him.
“I’d just come to work at the pub. I’m sure your boss would hire me.”
Cole gawks at you. “Yeah, he’d hire you and fire me. You’d get all the men in town in there, to drink and drool over you. Great for business,” he sarcastically informs.
Severus looks up from his plate at Cole, his gaze not friendly.
“Well, good thing the bakery will be up and running again soon. I’d hate to have to learn how to sling drinks to shabby men.”
“I could teach you a thing or two,” he jokes. “Slinging drinks is fun. Until people get too drunk.”
You ponder that offer as Severus rolls his eyes. “I would like to learn how to make a good drink,” you admit.
“I’m your man, then,” Cole grins. Severus scoots his chair back now, his jaw clenching. Cole and you both look at him with concerning faces. Severus meets your eyes before standing up. He grabs his plate and walks to the island, sitting there now instead. Cole looks at you and mouths “what’s his problem?” You shrug, feeling upset at how Severus is so deeply insecure but portrays it with anger. It just isn’t a good combination.
You apologize to Cole for not having anything for dessert after dinner is finished. You walk him to the front door and hand him the cash. He thanks you endlessly before taking his leave. As you shut the door, the floor creaks - when you turn, Severus is right there, his hands grabbing your hips and pushing you against the door. You look up at him as he presses his mouth to the crook of your neck. His lips kiss your throat eagerly, his warm tongue lapping at your skin. You sigh into him, wrapping your arms around his back.
”You are mine,” he breathes after assaulting your neck.
“Are you telling me something I already am aware of?” you ask. “Or are you assuring yourself of the fact?”
You push him back, his hands still grasping your sides, staring down at you. “What are your plans this weekend?”
You ignore and walk away from him and into the kitchen, with the intent to clean up, but Severus has already done so. You love having a wizard for a boyfriend. You walk into the pantry and fetch another bottle of wine. “Other than fighting off your insecurities about our relationship, nothing is on my calendar,” you snarkily retort.
Severus narrows his eyes and takes the bottle from you. He twirls his finger over the cork and it screws off. “He is blatwntly flirtatious with you every chance he gets.”
You pour the wine, nodding. “He is,” you agree. “But, he is also like that with everyone, man or woman. It is his personality.”
Severus takes a drink of wine, meeting your eyes. “I am in need of a companion this weekend,” he informs, clearly wanting to change the subject. “Would a ball pique your interests?”
You gasp and begin smiling widely, which in turn, makes Severus smirk. “Yes!” You squeal, running around the kitchen island to throw your arms around him. “Really?!”
He chuckles, nodding into your shoulder. “I put in our RSVP this afternoon. I stated I would have a plus one,” he explains. You squeeze him tightly and let him go, standing on your toes to kiss him.
“I’m so excited!” you exclaim. His lips curl up, but he points a finger at you.
“You must behave. No drinking in excess,” he warns. “There will be many important people attending this ball. The Minister and officials of the Ministry, important people that were involved in the war.”
You gape. “If you think I’m going to embarrass you, Severus, by all means, leave me home.”
His hand comes up to grab your jaw. “I did not say that, young lady. I’m sure everyone will have something to say, regardless.”
He lets you go to grab his glass of wine and the bottle, then turns to stride into the living room. You follow him in, wondering what he means by that. He sits down on the sofa and leans back, taking a large drink of his wine then topping the glass off with the bottle. You look at him curiously as you sit beside him.
“You are much younger than myself. Beautiful. Sociable. The opposite of me.”
You shrug. “Perfect, I can do all of the talking. You can merely watch and listen, which is what you prefer.”
His eyes roll. “As long as you are not made to feel uncomfortable. I am relieved I do not have to go alone,” he explains, then sighs exhaustedly. “Potter is running this entire operation. It’s likely to fall apart. He stated I ought to make a speech, being Headmaster and what not. Talk about those who did not make it. What I did during the war.”
You press your hand to his forearm. “You were important to the war, Severus. I’m sure people want to hear what you did and felt during the worst parts of it. You aren’t exactly a sociable person, as you say. They’re curious.”
Severus gazes at you, seemingly understanding but not saying anything more. You smirk, taking a drink of wine. “What do you want me to wear? A tight dress with a slit up my thigh? One that makes my breasts overly distracting?”
He chuckles lowly, leaning his head back and shutting his eyes. “Surprise me, darling,” he requests. You squeak excitedly, climbing into his lap and embracing him.
“You will dance with me,” you inform. He chuckles.
“I cannot dance,” he informs, looking away from your eyes. “Nor do I wish to infront of so many people.”
You don’t reply, as you don’t want him to change his mind on going. You’ll find a way to make him dance with you, one way, or another.
Snape stares down at the long countertop in his bathroom, seeing it covered in your…muggle belongings. The Remembrance Ball will ensue in less than an hour - you both have been preparing for it inside his chambers, though he’s been unable to get anytime inside the bathroom. You just stepped out to retrieve your dress, giving him a moment to utilize it. But he is overly fascinated by all of these…little things. Tiny vials of makeup and sprays that look like they are meant to hold potions. Hair brushes and hair accessories. Tubes of mascara and lipstick. He reaches down and picks up the long metal rod that is cooling down. His mother had one of these - a curling iron. His brows raise when he recalls Hogwarts has no electricity. How did you get this to work? No doubt, it’s the castle's inner magic. His mobile does charge here when it is merely connected to the charger, without being plugged into an outlet.
“Severus!” you squeal. He hears you scurrying down the hallway towards him. He sticks his head out the threshold of the bathroom, seeing you carrying your dress, but otherwise naked - just underwear and stockings. He’d like to keep you here like that tonight - tied up in his bed and available for him to use throughout the evening. That is a marvelous idea. “The Potter kid! He’s in your office!”
Snape groans deeply, bringing his hands up to straighten the collar of his frock coat. “What happened?” he asks, seeing you red in the face. “Did he see you?!”
“I dunno, but he surprised me! I ran right back in here,” you whisper. Snape scoffs, walking past you and out of his chambers. As he approaches the office, he hears the boy talking with Dumbledore’s portrait. When Snape emerges, he immediately eyes the boy. He is dressed appropriately for a ball, Snape will acknowledge. He’d never say it outloud.
“Potter, what, pray tell, are you doing unannounced inside my office?”
Potter turns to Snape, offering him a curt nod of his head. “Well, Professor McGonagall thought it’d be a good idea to take Professor Dumbledore’s portrait to greet the guests.”
Snape stares at him briefly before waving him out with his hand. “Take it and go,” Snape commands. “And, should you have seen my partner… exposed …I’ll have those memories wiped…” he warns, lowly.
Potter shakes his head back and forth as he takes the portrait of the wall. “All I saw was the dress, nothing more!” he informs, quickly, face flushing in embarrassment. He hauls the portrait under his arm and quickly hurries towards the exit - but, dreadfully, halts. “Did Professor McGonagall explain how tonight will-“
“Potter, do I appear to be a complete imbecile? That I have not, as headmaster, reviewed how this little ball that is happening inside my school will go?”
Potter lowers his head, nodding to himself. It was easier during Potter’s school days. The tension is too tight between the two of them now, much more thick and heavy than before - it feels like it could snap at any moment. Easier to insult and take points back then compared to attempting to cordially speak now. He should be having a simple conversation between… acquaintances. There isn’t any need to be nasty, though it is far easier to do than it is to politely talk to the boy.
“Er, Potter,” Snape corrects quickly before the boy can leave. “Wait a moment,” Snape requests. He goes to the desk to find the picture of Lily Potter he has had in his possession for too long. He does not feel the need to offer any last glance to her - the picture did what Snape needed during a time of great uncertainty. He only needs you to do that for him now. Snape approaches Potter, holding it out for him.
“I’m sure you have the other part of it,” Snape states. Potter takes it and his mouth parts in shock as his eyes lay on it. “Have Miss Weasley mend the picture, or Granger. As I recall, charms are not your strongest suit.”
Potter sticks it into his suit jacket after staring at it with purpose, nodding. “Why are you giving this to me, Professor?”
Snape purses his lips, putting his hands behind his back. “Your mother, even in death, carried me through my life as a double agent. I, however, am no longer in need of the picture, or her. You ought to have as many pictures of your mother as you can. There will not be any more,” Snape speaks, voice a beat deeper as he concludes.
Potter sticks his hand out to Snape, smiling. Reluctantly, Snape takes it and shakes it once. “Thank you, Professor,” he breathes. “I’d still like for us to talk soon.”
Snape looks around until he finds the grandfather clock on a shelf in the corner of the office. “Oh, pity, look at the time. The ball will start soon, no time for it now.”
Potter laughs and begins to leave again, realizing that it will not be today. Snape exhales when the boy finally leaves and returns to his chambers, finding you staring at yourself in the mirror - dressed and lovely and perfect. Merlin, people will believe he has Imperio’ed you into being his date tonight. You are truly out of his reach, yet he has you. If you are the reward he gets for everything he risked and endured whilst bringing the Dark Lord down, he will not question it.
He steps up behind you, eyeing you greedily in the reflection as his hands come up to feel your wonderful body. “You look so lovely that I don’t wish for another pair of eyes to set their sights on you this evening.”
You smile, blushing now. “Stop it,” you tease, slapping his hands away from you. “You’ll wrinkle my dress.”
Snape holds his hands up in defeat. “It won’t be safe once this little ball is over,” Snape comments. He gazes at you as you fix your hair the way you want it. Your hands are so gentle, always so careful and delicate.
“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he breathes, not taking his eyes from you.
“Thank you,” you say, slowly, with a silly grin. “Make up helps.”
“Even in the early morning, after fighting me in your sleep, you are quite the sight. If I could only look at you and nothing else for the rest of my life, I would not complain in the slightest.”
You roll your eyes and exhale deeply as you finish. You then turn to him, your hands coming up to his hair. You begin to poke and prod him. “My hair is fine,” Snape comments. You shush him as you fix him anyway.
“You look very handsome. Did you think I didn’t notice your new haircut?”
Snape’s eyes roll upwards. “A trim,” he corrects. You press your lips to his when you deem him finished.
“Have you practiced your speech?”
Snape shakes his head, checking his watch - he is used to speaking to a crowd, he doesn’t need practice. His hand finds yours and he begins to pull you behind him out of his chambers and into his office. He stops at his desk and fishes out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, pouring each of you a small cup. You hold yours up and Snape clinks his to it.
“Here’s to an exciting night,” you toast. Snape arches a brow. Yes, it should be exhilarating…ly dreadful. He is tempted to use some liquid luck just to keep his mood stabilized. But, you are here - you will keep him calm and anchored.
As you sit your cup down, you clear your throat. “If people ask me, what should I tell them? That I am muggle?”
Snape cocks his head, curious as to why you have asked that. “You can tell them whatever you like. If you’re asking me what I’d like for you to tell people, I’d love nothing more for you to merely say that you’re my partner. Blood status and magic and muggles…those things do not matter anymore. Not to any of the guests that will be in attendance. Certainly not to me.”
You nod, pressing your lips together. Snape gets close so he can cup your face into his hands. “I do not desire for you to be a witch. I would not love you any more than I do now, if that is what you think.” You press your lips into his inner wrist, meeting his eyes.
“I know, Severus. I know. Forgive me for asking. I merely do not want to embarass you.”
Snape scoffs. “Embarrass me by not being magical? Impossible. If anything, I may embarrass you. I’m an old man with a pretty young woman at my side, who, by the way, could do far better.”
You slap his chest, telling him he needs to shut up. “You aren’t that old, Severus.” You turn on your heels and begin to walk towards the office doors.
“Thirteen years your senior, lest you forget,” Snape chimes in from behind you. You giggle, holding your hand out for him. He takes it without a second thought - Merlin knows he will need it, and you, tonight.
By the mercy of Merlin, Snape has kept his unapproachable demeanor - not too many have dared greet him. But, not too many have entered the Great Hall yet. Potter and Dumbledore’s portrait are entertaining people outside, understandably. Potter defeated the Dark Lord. Dumbledore orchestrated everything. People want to see them and, again, he is thankful for that fact. Attention is not on him. All is as it should be.
The decorations exceed what Snape had imagined. The ceiling has been casted with a striking blue starry sky and shooting stars fall from it occasionally, which has mesmerized you. The student tables have been pushed to form a rectangle, with an open area in the center meant for mingling. The walls have been decorated with enlarged framed copies of Daily Prophets from the war - Snape quickly catches on that they are placed in chronological order, a detail he finds alluring. He walked down the brick walls with you, picturing where he was during each event in the Daily Prophet. He was terribly miserable. Well, he still is, but there’s something more now to him. A wonderful woman who loves him and craves his affections. Miserable, yet untroubled and content.
You ask him a few things about the newspapers, nothing too detailed. You point at Umbridge and say she looks like a toad, which got an honest chuckle from Snape. The toad of a woman is now rotting in Azkaban, as she so deserves. You stand next to Snape off the side of the High Table, sipping on a sparkling cocktail that continues to refill even when you drink its contents. Guests begin to pour in, grabbing goblets and glasses of drinks from tables near the door. Fingers point to the ceiling as they admire the beauty of the starry night. The guests are enraptured by the sight of the repaired and beautiful great Hall, and all are pleasantly socializing. There is no more fear or adversity among them. They’re merely people who fought together to bring down Voldemort and his servants, or they have at the very least suffered and endured the Dark Lord’s reign, and are now here to remember the ones who gave their lives to ensure victory.
Snape can recognize most of these people. The Minister for Magic, members of the Order, former students and their parents - even Narcissa and Draco have come. The Malfoy’s did defect, even if it were at the last minute. Narcissa lied to Voldemort about Potter being dead, something that would have earned her a swift execution by Voldemort’s hand, had he won. Lucius will spend years in Azkaban for crimes that couldn’t go unpardoned. And, everyone knows the story of Poor Draco Malfoy - forced by Voldemort to atone for his father’s mishaps and given the task to attempt to execute Dumbledore. Snape watches them until they sit down at the end of one of the long tables. They’re keeping to themselves. It is good they accepted the invitation, no matter how uncomfortable this may make them - it shows the Malfoy family supports the Ministry of Magic, Harry Potter, and Hogwarts. Something people need to be reminded of.
Snape’s eyes linger on the Weasley boy - not Ronald, but his older brother, George. Snape finds it strikingly difficult to look at him without his twin, who, for six and some odd years of schooling, was beside him every moment - until they decided to drop out. Snape imagines it is like losing a crucial organ for George. Maybe he is unable to look at himself in a mirror. Does Molly Weasley still confuse him with his departed other half? The possible pain alone makes Snape admire the young man. It cannot be easy to walk inside the castle, where his late brother passed, where so many memories are bound to resurface.
As if Snape’s mind was being broadcasted, George Weasley meanders down the Great Hall, followed by his younger sister, towards Snape. He glances at you from the corner of his eyes, seeing a smile forming - perfect, you can talk for him.
“Good evening, Headmaster,” Ginny Weasley greets, extending her hand to him. She’s dressed in a deep red dress and simple cloak. Snape takes it curtly. “Who’s this with you? A new professor?”
Snape clears his throat, gesturing to you. “This is [first name]. My partner.”
Ginny’s brows raise high as she turns fully to you. She offers her hand and you take it, laughing. “Hi, nice to meet you…?” you begin.
“Ginny Weasley,” she says, sounding surprised. “Former student of Professor Snape’s. I play for the Holyhead Harpies now, I’m a Chaser.”
You cock your head, but nod. “That’s wonderful,” you say, nodding. “I’m sure you’re quite good at that.”
Snape internally laughs. You have little knowledge of Quidditch, let alone what the positions mean. You are playing it off rather well, though. Ginny leans towards you, glancing at Snape, who merely arches a brow at the girl. She whispers something in your ear and both of you ladies have the boldness to snicker.
“Alright, ladies, do share with the group,” George Weasley pipes up. Snape extends his hand to him, nodding in agreement. He shakes it firmly. You and Ginny continue chatting.
“You look rather well, Professor,” George says, nodding at him in approval. “Last time I saw you, well I saw you in Diagon Alley a few months ago, actually. But the day I remember so clearly, it was right before the new term, after Voldemort was defeated. We were dropping Ginny off at Kings Cross. You were sitting on a bench outside of the train, holding your…” George points at his own neck.
Snape huffs out a breath, not wanting to recall those first few months after he was wounded by Nagini. He truly was not in good shape - he could not apparate or fly himself to the school, due to how weak he still was. Thus, the train was his only option. “Yes, the wound was very painful then. Madam Pomfrey and I have found a good remedy for it.”
George nods again. “That’s good to hear, Professor. Too bad it isn’t gone for good... Ginny and I, er…” he looks at his sister, who is now holding your hands and talking lowly. You’re having fun with her. “Well, we wanted to say thank you. For, you know, everything you did for us. For Harry. The school.”
Snape occludes his emotions as he swallows nervously. “There is no need for that, Mr. Weasley.” George nods his head in disagreement.
“No, there is. You may not know, but we all said…terrible things about you-“
“Oh, I can imagine you and your friends did,” Snape cuts off. “With good reason. I made you all believe I was truly evil, loyal to Voldemort. It is all in the past now.”
George nods, exhaling. “I know this was you,” he informs, pointing to his missing ear. “I know this is your spell. After, Fred told me what you did.” Snape cocks his head. “Yaxley was behind me, about to knock me off my broom, or worse. You aimed for him - Fred said he saw a Death Eater turn on Yaxley. I pulled back to dodge another Death Eater in front of me and was hit with your spell. You tried to save me, which could have blown your cover.” George shrugs. “We didn’t believe him. We said he was seeing things. We were wrong.”
Snape stares at the young man hard for several moments before shutting his dark eyes. His parents ought to be proud of him. Snape surely is, though he’d never tell the boy that. He was once an immature kid, pranking others and not caring about his classes. Now, he is respectable and mature.
“So, thank you, Professor. We’re sorry for anything you may have heard us say about you.”
Ginny leans towards her brother now, smiling. “Well, pertaining to bringing down Voldemort. We still think you’re an arse of a teacher.”
You grab his arm, laughing hysterically with the Weasley kids. Snape shuts his eyes and chuckles lightly, allowing his lips to turn up. After the lot of you quiet down, Snape looks at Ginny and George meekly.
“I am very sorry about your brother, Mr. Weasley, Miss Weasley. This does not suit you.” Snape nods with his head to the empty space beside George. “He should be here. I am terribly sorry he could not be saved.”
George Weasley makes a sound of pain inside his throat, then brings the goblet in his hand up to take a large gulp. “Thank you, Professor Snape,” he says, forcibly. “I think I’ll go see Professor McGonagall, now.”
Snape nods, offering him an apologetic look before watching him walk off to find the Head of Gryffindor. Perhaps he should not have said anything, but he felt the need to give his condolences. He taught all of the Weasley children, and despite their shenanigans, he preferred the twins over their other siblings. He thinks about Fred Weasley’s death here and there, amongst the many, many others. Ginny waves to you and Snape as she follows behind her brother.
The night kicks off with the interaction between the Weasley siblings and Severus. Now, you’ve lost count of how many come speak to Severus and yourself. All very respectful of Severus and thankful. Some people are very interested in you, especially Arthur Weasley. After his fifth question pertaining to the Muggle world, Severus shooed him away, saying that he needed to speak with someone else. Horace Slughorn speaks longest to you and Severus - about everything and nothing. He’s a kind old man. He reminds you of your grandad, in a way. Friendly and very approachable.
When Slughorn dismisses himself, you notice Severus exhale deeply. “Shall we sit down?” you wonder, seeing he could use a break. Severus nods immediately, pulling you up to the High Table. He takes his seat in the fancy, golden Headmaster chair after pulling your chair out for you. You’re hesitant to be sitting up here, as you feel someone else of value to this occasion could use this seat, but Severus silently insists.
“I wish this would be over,” Severus murmurs. You watch his eyes scan the crowd. “I don’t enjoy talking to so many people. I miss when they avoided me.”
“You’re doing a fine job,” you assure, resting your hand on his thigh. He immediately places his hand on top of yours, squeezing. Guests slowly stop mingling and begin to find a seat. Minerva sits besides Severus, offering you a friendly smile over his shoulder. Other teachers and staff fill the table as well. You look around until you find Harry Potter, who is approaching the platform of the High Table. He is dressed in fancy burgundy robes and shiny black shoes.
“Good evening, everyone. Thank you for coming!” he greets, quieting everyone down. “It is hard to believe it has been nearly nine years since I was in this very same spot on this platform, being sorted into Gryffindor. Even harder to believe it has been two years since Voldemort was vanquished, here in this very hall.”
People uproar in applause and cheering. Potter paces across the platform, nodding with a smile of gratitude until it quiets back down. “Tonight is not about him, however. No more talk of Voldemort or giving his name any sort of meaning or power. Tonight, we remember those who gave their lives for us and the war, and that we may continue on in their stead.” People begin to clap again. The air seems heavier, though. Things feel physically tense. “Let us eat, drink, and give thanks to those who have fallen. Without them, we would not have won against evil. Without them, we would be living in a very different world.”
Everyone around you looks sullen at his words - you wish you understood fully what all happened and why it happened and everything else in between. Potter clears his throat to speak again after a moment. “Thank you all again for coming. While we have our dinner, those who have been asked to speak will come up here. Once that is through, we will open the floor for dancing. Our friends, Ginny and George Weasley, have planned something extraordinary in the courtyard at the end of the night.”
People begin to clap again and Potter takes his seat at the High Table with his friends, Hermione and Ron. You met them earlier - they were friendly and kind. The Minister of Magic steps up first. He begins to speak as food magically fills the plates on the table.
You glance at Severus, who hasn’t stopped squeezing your hand. He has to speak soon. He doesn’t appear to be nervous, but you can feel that he is. You can’t explain it, you just know. “Are you okay?” you whisper.
Severus nods without looking at you - instead he watches the next person climb up to speak. You lean towards him, tugging at his cloak. When his eyes find yours, they’re empty yet filled with overwhelming emotion. “I need to use the restroom,” you blurt out.
Severus furrows his brows, unsure of why you’re telling him that. “Take me,” you insist. He stands immediately, obeying your command. You stand silently and follow him out of a door on the side of the Great Hall. Once you’re both down a narrow corridor, you grab his hand and stop, making him come to a halt.
“You’re nervous,” you whisper. He scoffs, gesturing behind him.
“The loo is this way,” he informs. You scoff back at him and roll your eyes. You grab his other hand now and guide him backwards until his back is against a stained glass window.
“I don’t have to piss, Severus. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” you say. “You don’t have to speak. You can fake sick or something. We can retire for the evening,” you suggest.
Severus runs his fingers through his hair, sighing deeply. “I am fine. It is different, being around these people. They all avoided me, now want to act as if they’re grateful.”
You nod, stupidly. “They are,” you say, plainly. “They are bloody grateful, Severus. You spied on the darkest wizard of your time. You literally died for this cause. Put yourself in their shoes. What would you say to yourself?”
Severus stares up at the ceiling - he is avoiding your eyes because he knows you are right. “I suppose…you are making logical sense. I still don’t want to make a bloody speech. I’d rather lie to the face of Voldemort again.” You see his hands grip the window sill tightly.
“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” you command, reaching for his hands and yanking them off the ledge of the window. He looks down at you as you bring his hands to your chest. One brow arches inquisitively as he takes handfuls of your breasts. “And, to think that earlier you did not even want to practice your speech,” you scold before reaching down and pressing a hand to his soft, trouser-covered manhood. He tenses, groaning lowly.
“We can’t. We ought to get back,” he whispers, voice an octave deeper. You kneel down in front of him anyway, eyeing him, clearly wanting to misbehave.
“You’re too tense, too uptight to go speak properly. Can’t I help you relax? Sir?” you wonder, grabbing his belt buckle, staring at him innocently. His nostrils flare, but otherwise he remains silent. You take it as a sign to not stop. You pull his belt apart and unzip, quickly grabbing him - you can't be gone too long, lest you raise suspicion. You continue to gaze up at him as you put him in your mouth - when your lips press against the head of him, his mouth parts slightly and he grits his teeth.
“You are such a dirty little slut. Anyone could walk up on us,” he quietly speaks, through gritted teeth. He gets stiff quickly, despite his words of warning. It only takes a few seconds before you're bobbing your head up and down and grabbing his thighs to anchor yourself close to him. You love doing this, especially in this setting. It’s dangerous and risky, it makes it exciting. And, you do want Severus to loosen up.
After diligently sucking for a moment, he leans back into the window, reaching a hand down to grasp your head - but your hair is perfect and you don’t want it messed up. Someone would surely notice your hair awry and piece together what you and Severus are currently doing. You slap his hand away, narrowing your eyes at him. He cocks his head, opening his mouth to speak. Before he can, you reach for what is under his shaft, squeezing gently - his cocked head falls backwards now and his hands fly to grasp the ledge of the window behind him. “Mm,” he sighs before looking back down at you. “You look so pretty down there, sucking cock like your life depends on it.”
You groan around him, eyes fluttering shut - why does he have to say things like that? He knows talking to you like that gets you flustered, weak, excited. You squeeze your thighs together to try to find some relief. Severus takes this moment of brief weakness to place his hand on your shoulder and thrust himself into your mouth. Thank god he was holding you, you probably would have been knocked down from the force of it.
“Stay still,” he groans, placing a hand on the side of your head, being conscientious of your hair. “Make your little noises I love so much while I fuck your mouth,” he commands, all masculine. You grasp your hands onto his trousers and moan around him as he begins to thrust. After a little exertion, he begins to groan in pleasure. “Fuck, darling,” he chokes out, getting faster now. The pace quickens and you do your best to keep your mouth open and take it. He’s going fucking hard, though - you’re nearly dizzy.
“Severus,” you whine, pulling your mouth off of him. He groans, this time in displeasure. Instead, he guides you so your back is against the wall, keeping you on your knees. He finds your hands and crosses your wrists over one another, raising them over your head. He uses one hand to keep you steady against the wall by your wrists and the other wraps around his cock, stroking it quickly. He waits a beat for you to catch your breath, then drives himself into your mouth. You groan, shutting your eyes, opening wide for him. He begins to pump into your throat, breathing heavier.
“Bloody hell,” he murmurs. You watch his head lull back again and his hand that’s wrapped around your wrists tightens. You moan around him, drawing it out, hoping to send delectable vibrations through him. He tenses and groans a little louder than you’d like - someone could really fucking walk up on you both. He lurches forward, letting go of your wrists to brace himself by an arm against the window. You feel him spasm inside your mouth, then his warm release begins to pour over your tongue. You gladly begin to swallow it. “Such a good girl you are for me,” he sighs, when he’s finished.
He pulls himself out of your mouth and helps you stand on your feet, then quickly begins to dress and right himself. You giggle as you fix your dress and check out your hair in the window. “You’ll return the favor.”
He scoffs, sarcastically. “Will I now? In which way?” He places a hand on your back and begins to lead you back to the Great Hall.
“Hmm. I dunno yet, but I’m sure one of us will figure it out.” You look up at him, continuing to walk. “How do you feel now?”
His dark eyes dart to you. “Utterly relaxed and light headed. You know me too well, I don’t think I’ve ever been able to climax so quickly with someone’s mouth,” he admits, lips curling up slightly. You giggle again, feeling proud. He opens the door for you and lets you walk in first. You keep your head down and head back to your chair. People begin to clap for McGonagall, who is finished speaking. She leaves the center of the High Table and returns to her seat. As you take your own seat, you glance to Severus, who’s beginning to walk to the center now to speak. You quickly take a large drink to loosen up - you’re anxious for him.
You watch him take a deep breath in and out before he begins, as if he’s letting out any worry inside. “Good evening,” he greets, voice deep and captivating. “Before speaking, I’d like to announce that I will be stepping down as Headmaster after this term is over. Minerva McGonagall will be taking over as Headmistress beginning next school year. She is the best candidate for the position and has devoted her life to Hogwarts and the wellbeing and education of our students.”
An uproar of applause and a freaking standing ovation erupts in seconds. Severus glances behind him and gives Minerva an appreciative look. She stands and bows, smiling kindly out to the guests. When things quiet back down, Severus clears his throat. “Tonight, I will speak truthfully and freely, unlike in the past. I will speak about two people that were… good hearted and utterly loyal to this school, the good of our world, and true to themselves. The first is Alastor Moody.” A few sighs are audible from the guests. You know vaguely of him, just that he was a leader in the Order of the Phoenix.
“Let me begin by saying that Alastor and I weren’t friends by any means. He questioned me every moment he had and strongly distrusted me, given my past as a Death Eater. He was the most talented auror we will see in our lifetime, he was resilient and loyal and a true leader. When he was killed by Voldemort during the Battle of the Seven Potters, I witnessed his body fall from his broomstick. I wanted nothing more but to get him to safety, I thought he could have yet been saved. But, as he proved time and time again, duty must come before emotions. I did my duty to the cause by feigning that I was truly a loyal Death Eater, I did not go to his aid. I regret that I could not help him in his last moments.” Heads fall in sadness and you feel unwell. Severus had to watch Alastor fall to his death and could do nothing about it. It makes you sick. Severus shifts his weight to his other leg before continuing.
“I’d like to think that, if he were still here, we could perhaps sit down and have a little chat about the war. Maybe he would shake my hand in approval, after learning the truth of everything. Or, maybe he’d give me that gruff look he gave everyone and tell me I only did what I should have done all along and that he is indeed not impressed.” The audience laughs gently. Everyone’s eyes are on Severus. There isn’t one person who is drinking or eating or talking to their dates. He has compelled everyone to his attention.
“The second person I will speak about… was my friend - yes, I do actually have friends, despite what some of you may think.” Another light laugh echoed through the Great Hall. Severus really can make people laugh, he just doesn’t do it often enough. “Professor Charity Burbage. Any former student here knew her. She was a wonderful teacher and well liked by both student and staff. Charity and I met at school, here at Hogwarts. While we were in separate houses and two years apart, we formed a small friendship when Professor Slughorn decided to give her a Troll on an exam.” Severus looks in the direction of Slughorn, who laughs almost drunkenly. You laugh quietly along with some others.
Severus walks a few paces to the side of the High Table. “Her failure prompted her to beg me for tutoring sessions, to which I begrudgingly complied. While we weren’t close during our school years, we did learn quite a bit about one another in our studies. She liked collecting muggle coins and muggle magazines. She always had a calculator in her school bag. She donated to and spent time at many orphanages and homeless shelters. And she was never, ever unhappy or rude to others, even when they were that way with her.” Severus glances down, pausing for a long moment. “I think of Charity often when I become that way. I wish to be like she was - forgiving and kind. Though for me, as you all know… it is highly difficult.” You smile softly and hear a few more laughs.
“When she came to teach at Hogwarts, we found ourselves in the staff room between classes, speaking about nothing in particular. She often stayed the holidays during our teaching years, knowing I did not have family to go home to. One Christmas, she got me a wonderful gold mortar and pestle. I still use it to this day.”
Severus strides back to the center and looks out at the seated people. “I find it difficult to speak about her death, as it haunts me most often. I believed killing Albus Dumbledore would be the sin that kept me up at night, but it isn’t. After Hogwarts was seized by Death Eaters and I became Headmaster, Charity Burbage was captured by the Carrows. She taught muggle studies in a way that was not approved by Voldemort - he believed she needed to be an example of what would happen should we support muggles or muggleborns. And at one of our meetings…” Severus looks down and hesitates. “Voldemort deemed it fit that she was to be our entertainment. Or, our warning for those who dared to support Professor Burnage’s beliefs. He levitated her over the meeting table for all of us to see. Given her appearance, I could tell she had been tortured for quite some time. When Voldemort was preparing to take her life, she looked at me.”
Severus lets go of his hands that are behind his back - they ball into fists at his sides, then slowly relax. “She looked at me for help,” he says firmly, but his voice is deeper, thick with emotion. “She called out my name and begged for her life, and cried out to me that we were friends. I sat there, unable to look away from her yet could not help her or even vouch for her, as I did not want my own loyalties to be questioned. I am ashamed to admit that when Voldemort killed her and she fell onto the table, I was relieved. If I had heard her say my name one more time, my resolve would have broken, and no level of Occluding would have saved me.” He stares down at his feet for a long, terrible moment before adding, “She believed I abandoned her in her final moments. That our friendship was not true. She died… believing I was truly vile and evil and dark.”
Severus takes another moment of silence, as well as everyone else. This is making you physically upset. You can’t imagine what Severus is feeling, spilling his heart out in front of these people. “Many of you have asked me what happened to Professor Burbage over the last couple of years. I hope you can begin to understand now why it was so difficult to speak about. That is, sadly, what happened to our beloved Professor of Muggle Studies. I miss her.” Severus inhales deeply and looks out to the audience and ponders silently. “That is all I have to say about Alastor Moody and Charity Burbage. We shall not see their like again,” he declares, before turning on his heels and striding around the High Table towards his chair. Before he can take his seat, people rise to their feet and applause erupts - but it isn’t happy applause. It’s almost a melancholy sound. You stand, clapping softly as well, staring at Severus as he approaches you. His dark eyes meet yours and they don’t move for a long moment. You give him a small, proud smile. When the applause dies down, Severus gives a curt nod of thanks before taking his seat.
You press your hand against his thigh, leaning towards him. “You did so well, Severus. I am so proud of you,” you breathe. He grasps your hand with his own, remaining silent. Harry Potter swoops up to where Severus was just standing and draws the attention to him.
“What a wonderful eulogy about Professor Moody and Professor Burbage. They, among many others, are sorely missed. Does anyone else wish to come up and say anything about someone who gave their life for the war?”
After a beat of silence, Potter clears his throat and claps once. “Wonderful,” he says, a bit awkwardly. “Given the news that Professor McGonagall will take over as Headmistress next year, I think another round of applause is due for Professor Snape.” Severus freezes, narrowing his eyes on the young man, who turns and gestures for Severus to stand. “We are all very aware of everything he risked and sacrificed in the years leading up to the second Wizarding War and until Voldemort’s downfall. Without him, I…would not be standing here, and the world would be very different right now.”
He waves his hand up and down again, urging Severus to stand. You grab his arm and push him up, making him grunt as he rises to his feet. McGonagall laughs as she stands and begins to clap. Another standing ovation is in order for Severus. He surely won’t forget this night. You stand, along with everyone else in the Great Hall, and clap for him. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you the entire time. When it finally stops, Potter nods towards the band that is in the corner of the Great Hall, and music begins.
The first people to begin dancing are Potter and Ginny. They make a pretty couple. The next are Weasley and Granger - she is the one leading him around the floor, as he appears to have no dancing ability. You glance to Severus with pleading eyes, who is now finding it hard to look at you - he knows you want to dance tonight. You peak behind him, looking at Minerva, raising your brows at her for help. She clears her throat.
“You know, Severus, it is customary for the Headmaster to dance on occasions like this,” Minerva speaks from his other side. Severus shuts his eyes and groans. “You won’t get this chance again,” she chimes. Severus scoffs, begrudgingly, but stands to his feet in a flash. He turns to you and holds his hand out, meeting your eyes with his annoyed ones. You grin and take it, allowing him to pull you to your feet. He leads you around the High Table and down to the dance floor. A small round of clapping rings out as you both stride towards an emptier spot. You smile as Severus turns to you and places his hand on your hip, beginning to dance - and he fucking knows how. After a few moments, you laugh lightly.
“You do know how to dance, you arse.” A small smile forms on his lips.
“I’d much rather do it in private,” he murmurs, glancing over your shoulder as more couples join the dancing. This is so magical - dancing with Severus under the moonlight in the Great Hall. “I don’t wish to step on Minerva’s toes though, lest she back out of taking her rightful place as Headmistress, leaving me stuck here. Away from you.”
You blush at his words, then feel him push you away gently. He holds your hand as you twirl around. You laugh lightly, becoming impressed, coming back to face him.
“You said difficult and heartfelt words about Alastor and Charity. And to so many people. You should be proud of yourself,” you inform. He gazes down at you, appreciatively.
“Thank you,” he replies, pressing a hand softly against your cheek, before stepping back and raising your hand he is holding. “Keep spinning, so I can see your pretty legs through the slit of your dress.”
You giggle, spinning, faster this time. You stare at him intently as you spin a few times more, unable to stop smiling like an idiot. You love this man. You’ve never felt such deep emotion for another person. As he brings you back close to him, he leans into your ear.
“Thank you for coming with me,” he appreciates. “I typically feel apprehensive, having to speak in front of the school, after having to act evil for so long. I feel so out of place here. But, with you, I feel…” he explains, trailing off. You perch your head up and press your lips to his cheek.
“Like you are enjoying yourself?” you wonder. He leans back and eyes you, almost seeming confused as to why he would.
“Yes, I am,” he agrees. “It is a foreign feeling for me. Especially here,” he admits. “Tonight, I feel I belong here.” You smile and cling close to him, swaying slowly to the music, trying to etch his words and how he feels against you into your memory.
Severus doesn’t let you dance for long, though you would appreciate one more dance. You understand - he simply doesn’t prefer it. He finds you both a drink and asks for you to accompany him to go and greet Narcissa and her son. Of course, you go with him. They’re sitting in seats closest to the door, keeping to themselves. Narcissa’s head pops up when Severus and you get close. She stands and embraces Severus and then offers you her hand in which you shake gently.
“You look beautiful, [first name],” she says, offering a meek smile. Her son is behind her, staring at the dance floor. You follow his gaze directly to the Potter boy. You recall Draco Malfoy being taken into custody after he was refused to join auror studies. He wanted to get close to Potter. Now, he’s staring at him dancing with his girlfriend. Talk about out of place.
“Thank you, Narcissa. You look wonderful as always,” you politely greet, turning your attention back to her. She snaps her fingers at her son, who stands begrudgingly.
“This is my son, Draco,” she introduces. He sticks his hand out and you shake it.
“I’m [first name],” you reply. “Severus’ partner.”
Draco raises a brow and looks up and down at you, then offers a look of confusion to Severus. “What’d you do, Snape, bribe her? Give her a love potion-“ he begins.
Narcissa elbows him before he can say anymore. Severus’ lips curl up and he cocks his head.
“No, but I am sure that has crossed your mind to whoever you’ve been eyeing this entire evening.”
Draco sneers at him and Severus offers him one back. You lower your head to have a small laugh. Severus is good at retorting back. Draco merely sits back down and begins to drink from his goblet.
“Forgive him,” Narcissa begins, speaking quietly and looking apologetic. “With Lucius being locked away, he is lacking a firm hand to keep him in line.”
Severus makes a noise of disbelief. “He’s never been in any sort of line. You both spoiled the boy. He is entitled and pretentious.” Severus now raises one eyebrow, thinking. “He can have a small portion of slack for the stress endured during the war, but that is all.”
Narcissa sighs, exhaustedly. “I told him to bring Astoria but he insistently refused. He is unhappy and unmotivated. I cannot help him.”
You look at the boy who has a certain aura of dark emotion around him. “Are you not high up in the magical world? Can you not pull a few strings and get him into auror training? That is what he wants, to be closer to Potter.”
Severus looks at you quickly, giving you a disapproving look. You shouldn’t have said anything. Narcissa glances at Severus before addressing you.
“Potter will marry the Weasley girl. Why dangle something in front of him he cannot have?” Narcissa inquires.
You shrug, clearing your throat. “Perhaps to allow him to see and feel his person of interest not return his feelings. You’re trying to spare him suffering, but maybe he has to suffer to get over this…phase of delinquency. Move on.”
Narcissa slowly nods, examining you closely, thinking to herself.
“Is Downey here, Severus?” she asks, continuing to gaze at you.
Severus’ mouth parts and he nods after a moment. “You cannot be serious.”
Narcissa shrugs. “I am willing to try anything for my son. [First name] has a good point. He has been stuck in this way for nearly two years.” She glances around the Great Hall and turns when she finds who she is looking for. “I’ll chat with you both later,” she dismisses, then begins walking away.
“Who is she going to talk to?” you wonder.
Severus takes a drink of his cup and looks down at you. “The head auror.”
Your brows raise in surprise. You hope this doesn’t turn out badly and Narcissa blames you. You finish your drink, feeling nice and warm and buzzed. You do wish this would start coming to an end. Your feet hurt in your shoes and your dress is becoming uncomfortable. As if Severus reads your mind - maybe he did - he leans into your hair, kissing the cusp of your ear.
“They’ll be having fireworks soon, I am sure. Let us go to my office, watch it from the balcony,” Severus instructs. You nod, looking at your cup as it refills magically with wine, thinking that sounds rather romantic. Severus places a hand on your hip and guides you through the Great Hall and out the back door.
The fireworks are, of course, magical. Severus and you lean against the railing of the balcony, silently watching the show. You could never have imagined in your wildest dreams that magic could do so much and be so beautiful - the Weasley’s really are talented, flying around, throwing off fireworks that dance and squeal and chase them around. You glance over to Severus, who you find is staring at you instead of the wonderful show happening right in front of you. The colorful glow of the fireworks splash against his face, highlighting his eyes, shining across his dark hair - making him even more handsome. The color darkens and fades, only to illuminate his face in a different brilliant plot.
“What?” you wonder, when he doesn’t look away to enjoy the show. His head lulls to the side and a small smile forms across his lips.
“I do not think I will ever grow tired looking at you,” he murmurs, reaching out to push a few strands of hair from your forehead. You smile in return and step a half step to close the space between you. You grab the lapels of his coat and stand on your toes to kiss him. His hand goes to rest above the cusp of your arse as he simply kisses you back.
It's a slow and deep yet delicate kiss. Your warm tongues intertwine and noses brush together. The show ends and darkness falls over you both - Severus begins to guide you back inside, his lips still on yours, but becoming more greedy with mouth. You stumble back, laughing into him, holding onto him as he leads you towards his desk. You wrap one arm around his back when you nearly fall backwards, gasping and pulling your mouth from him when he lifts you to sit on his desk.
You look up at him, seeing him towering over you, eyeing you lustfully. You don’t need to talk anymore - no need for instructions or guidance. You know what he wants and how he wants you to be - you give it to him. You reach up and begin to unbutton his frock coat while his hand comes to your back to unzip your dress. He gets the top half of you exposed in mere seconds, while you struggle with the fourth button of many. Your bra comes off next and the coolness of the room sends chills down your back. You yank at his coat now, groaning, making him chuckle.
“I assumed you’d be good at undressing me by now,” he murmurs. He grabs your hands from his chest and puts them right to his tenting trousers. You moan excitedly when you find him so hard. He finishes removing his coat and lays it in the chair, then groans when you already have him unzipped, pulling down his trousers. You grab his cock and stroke him, raising your head to look up at him. “What an expert you are at getting what you want most in your hands,” he whispers, which makes you clench your thighs together.
He doesn’t let you do much more to him - maybe he wants you as badly as you want him. He places a hand on your shoulder and pushes you down onto your back. His hands grab at your dress and you lift your hips, letting him yank it down and swiftly off your legs. He swallows, his dark eyes violating your body now. His hands come up to your hips to part your legs, exposing your core to the cold air inside the office. His hand goes between your thighs and his fingers do something that makes you throw your head back and jolt your hips up. He steps closer, closing any space between your bodies, your legs clinging around his back tightly. His cock rubs up and down your folds, brushing over your clit - Severus groans without fear and grasps the tops of your thighs.
“Wait, are the portraits-“ you begin, looking around, but you cannot finish your sentence. He pushes himself fully inside you, fast, impatient, rough. You push yourself up on your elbows, mouth open in pleasure, looking at him.
“The portraits are taken care of,” he whispers after a moment, breathing slowly. He pulls himself nearly all of the way out of you before plunging back in. You moan softly, staring up at him. One of his hands comes to wrap around your throat and shove you down to your back.
“Severus,” you sigh, wrapping your hands around his outstretched arm. His eyes seem to darken.
“Headmaster,” he breathes, which makes you gasp. “You’re on the Headmaster’s desk, young lady, being used by him,” he says lowly, pulling out and thrusting again. “Have some manners,” he commands, before grasping your throat tighter and beginning to thrust in and out of you like he’s trying to bloody kill you.
“Fuck!” you whimper, digging your nails into his skin. The pace and pressure are perfectly intense and pleasurable.
It nearly makes you dizzy. His hand releases your throat - only to strike you across the face.
“Watch your mouth,” he commands, leaning his entire body over you now, grasping your breasts firmly. You moan stupidly, bucking up agaisnt him. His head rests beside yours, his mouth breathing hotly against your ear. “Your tight little cunt takes me so well,” he groans.
“Headmaster,” you choke out, wrapping your arms around his back to pull him closer. He isn’t letting up on his pace or force, which is driving you quickly into release. “Headmaster, Headmaster, Headmaster,” you cry out - it only makes him continue at this brutal pace. You can hear each thrust - the wetness, the pressure, your bodies pressing together.
“Say it again, love,” he commands after a while, breathless, sliding his hand between your bodies to rub quick circles around your throbbing clit. Your eyes meet and you start to unravel around him. You open your mouth to say what he so wants to hear.
“Headmaster,” Minerva greets.
Snape glances up from his desk, nodding in greeting to Minerva. He has just finished retrieving his belongings and packing what was left into a box. His time at Hogwarts has finally come to an end - he is unsure of how to feel about his departure. He has wanted it for years. It feels bittersweet. An end of an era - he was so many different versions of himself here.
A student. An aspiring Death Eater. A Death Eater. A professor. A double agent. Head of Slytherin. Headmaster under Voldemort’s command. Headmaster after the war.
Now, he gets to leave it all behind and find himself with you beside him.
“It will be very odd to not have you here next term,” Minerva begins, approaching the desk. Snape takes a seat and sighs deeply.
“Odd, indeed.”
Minerva lets out a soft sigh. “Must you?”
Snape raises his eyes to her - his former teacher, a mentor of his, a colleague, a friend.
“It is a bit late to persuade me otherwise. You already forced me to continue to be headmaster for the last two years,"Snape reminds.
Minerva raises her hands in defense. “I was bloody worried! We had to give you some sort of purpose. You were saying you had ought to die out there in the Shrieking Shack,” she dreadfully reminds. Snape rolls his dark eyes. Minerva scoffs at him. “Merlin forbid someone cares for you!”
Snape lowers his head and smirks. “I do not hold it against you or Poppy. Continuing on as Headmaster brought me much perspective.” Snape gestures to the Head of Gryffindor. “But, it is time you take over, as it always should have been.”
Minerva leans against the desk, looking around the office. “I miss Albus,” she states after a moment of silence. Snape stands, nodding in agreement.
“He would have wanted no one else to succeed him besides you,” Snape assures. She gawks at him stupidly.
“He was very fond of you, even if you don’t believe it. He believed you were a good choice for Headmaster… after myself, of course.” Both of the professors share a laugh. Snape steps beside her, looking out at the office where so many drastic decisions and discoveries were revealed.
“We must continue to see each other, Severus,” Minerva commands, placing a hand on his arm. Snape looks at her for a long moment before slowly and hesitantly stepping towards her and reaching his arms out to embrace her.
“Thank you, Minerva. For everything.” Minerva wraps her arms around him warmly, rubbing her hands up and down his back. They let go of one another and Minerva places her weathered hands on either side of his face.
“I am so proud of the man you became. You could have continued down the path of darkness. You chose what was right,” she commends. Snape gazes at her before nodding in appreciation. They both take another look out at the office.
“For the first time, Minerva, I am…untroubled,” Snape admits. Minerva smiles contentedly.
“I think [first name] is playing a big part in your untroubledness. You are a lucky man. You both seem to…dissolve into one another.” Snape ponders that statement - where does he begin and you end? In the beginning of your relationship, there were boundaries and hard limits. Now, they are nowhere to be found. It is simply you and him. A woman and man. Muggle and wizard. A baker girl and brooding bat.
Minerva gives him another smile, but her eyes narrow behind him, over his shoulder to where Albus’ portrait hangs - facing against the wall instead of outward. She looks at it hard before cocking her head. Then, she does a three sixty, looking around the room in curiosity.
“Severus?” Snape arches a brow. “Why are all of the portraits turned inward?”
Snape grabs the box of his belongings and heads to the candlestick portkey that returns him to you. “No idea,” he announces before disappearing.