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Chapter Text

Rachel Simons sat in potions class picking at the dirt in her nails from Herbology that morning, and listening to her professor as he paced around near the front of the class. She was tired today, and couldn't seem to concentrate. Break ups are exhausting, she thought. The last nearly 3 years of her life had been spent with Declan, and she really had no idea of how to proceed since he ended it last night. He had been her first boyfriend, therefore she’d never gone through a breakup. It all felt confusing and a bit hopeless, if she was honest with herself. Though she was surprised that she still hadn't cried, she knew she probably should have.

Likely something wrong with me, she thought.

Her eyes closed and she rubbed her forehead, annoyed at herself. Her mind needed a break. She just didn't want to think about it anymore. Her eyes focused back on the teacher as she attempted to direct her attention back on her class.

Professor Snape was giving his lecture for today's lesson in his usual emphatic way, yet her mind immediately wandered away from what he was saying about Galpolott's Third Law, and she wondered if someone like him ever cried. He was human after all, so he must, she supposed. But his overall presence of detached intimidation made one forget that.

He was the youngest teacher at Hogwarts by many years, yet his personality was akin to a grumpy old man scowling at a friendly smile, and muttering angrily at passing children playing. Of all her teachers, he was the most curious. Did he ever laugh at jokes? Tear up when reading a touching story? Did he enjoy sweets? She let out a small puff of air through her nose in amusement as she suddenly pictured Professor Snape in his layers of black robes, lollipop in hand. Then her mind wandered to where he must live. Maybe he had a dark, dingy home to match his personality. Probably with a wood paneled library filled with textbooks and stores of sinister concoctions. Did he sleep in simple, single bed? Or a grand four poster with heavy drapes and satin sheets stamped with Slytherin emblems? And what did he wear to bed? Certainly he wasn't always draped in all those layers of robes.

"Am I to assume you're under some sort of enchantment that prohibits you from speaking and keeps that especially dimwitted expression on your face, Miss Simons?"

She snapped out of it at the mention of her name. The entire class was staring at her and Professor Snape was standing much closer than he had been when she had last noticed, all of his menacing focus now on her. He did not look happy.

"Um, sorry Professor. What was the question?"

"I will not repeat myself, but to ensure you do not forget the details of this lesson- which is apparently below your interest- you will write 12 inches of parchment on Golpalott's Laws and which in particular relate to the material in today's chapter. To be completed by tomorrow. Do you understand?"

He was close enough that she could see the details of his black eyes, they seemed darker than usual. "Yes, Professor. But we don't have class again until Thursday afternoon-"

"Then you will just have to find the time in your busy schedule to bring it in tomorrow, before lunch, is that clear Miss Simons?"

"Yes, Professor."

She was released from his gaze finally, as he swept back up to the front of the class. She let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. He had snapped insults at her before, like he had with most of his students, Gryffindors in particular, and it never really bothered her. This time though, she felt a bit shaken, not sure of why. She inwardly scolded herself...

Because for some reason this time it interrupted thoughts of him in underclothes, you idiot.

Yes, something was definitely wrong with her.

After class was over she headed down to lunch, and it was then she realized that she wouldn't be meeting Declan in the common room to walk to the Great Hall together like usual. Which means they probably wouldn't be sitting together, which meant, where would she sit? She had sat with Declan, his friends Rory and Sam, and Sam's girlfriend Mae for the last 2 years. And while she was friendly with all of them, now that she really thought about it, they were 'his' friends, and would definitely stick with him if there were sides to be taken.

Oh, how ridiculous, she told herself as she set off toward the stairs leading out of the dungeons. ...We are mature, eighteen year olds in our seventh year, Dec and I have been friends since we were 11 and have spent nearly every day together since we were 15. There is no reason our friendship has to change, nor is there even any need for sides at all.

She decided then that she'd march into the Great Hall and sit down where she always had and laugh and joke and eat with her friends as she always had.

As soon as she saw him though, through the noisy lunch crowd, that resolve weakened.

Her feet seemed stuck to the floor, standing in the large doorway, and the words he'd said to her the night before replayed in her head.

"Things have been rough between us for a while now, haven't they? Like… you're different, or maybe I'm different, I don't know. And we've got our last NEWT’s coming up, we're all stressed and overwhelmed as it is, and I just want… I just think we should put our relationship on hold, for now. Let's just take a step back and we'll both be better for it, don't you think?"

At first she had argued, but she had been so shocked that couldn't really think of what to say. She hadn’t felt abnormally stressed, she could see no reason why they needed to break up. And he hadn’t actually given her one now that she thought back on it... just vague extenuation. At the time she had been so confused she had just conceded. Then he had hugged and kissed her and walked away.

She took a deep breath and walked to her spot at the Gryffindor table and sat down where Declan and Sam were in the middle of a heated conversation about the Chuddley Cannons new Beater.

See? Just another day.

But as she sat down, silence.

"Hey Rach!" said Mae finally, in a overly cheerful tone trying to buffer the discomfort.

"Hey. Snape was in a right foul mood today, wasn’t he? It’s not like I'm the first one to drift off a little during a lecture. Git. Anyway, it's Ravenclaw we play tonight, right? What time are we heading down to the pitch?"

No one responded.

Declan seemed oddly interested in poking at his dish, and Sam and Rory exchanged a quick glance.

Rachel felt her cheeks start burn. "What?"

No one responded.

She snapped her head towards Declan.

"Well, what is it?" He kept his eyes on his eggs. The fact that he wouldn’t even look at her was absolutely infuriating. Mae spoke again.

"We just didn't know if you two would really …want to sit together, at the game today, Rach. We thought, maybe it'd be a good idea to give it a few days, ya know?"

“Give what a few days? I am not the one who seems to have the problem. What the bloody hell did I do? To any of you?"

When no one answered, she grabbed her bag and stormed away. There was nothing else she could think to say and they obviously weren't going to give her answers or make this easy for her.
She hadn't quite made it out of the great Hall before her eyes were welling up. Losing a boyfriend is one thing, but losing every friend you have too? It's not like she had any to spare. Why did she spend every spare moment she had with Declan for the last two years? She'd have probably kept more friends if she'd given it some effort. She felt so foolish, and angry towards Declan for treating her this way. Almost 3 years together, being each other’s firsts in every sense of the word, and he treats her like some acquaintance the very next day.

"Acquisition."

The fat lady yawned and swung open for her. She headed up the staircase to her dorm, sat on the bed and looked blankly around.

Her 3 roommates’ beds were neatly made and empty. These girls should be my friends, she thought. The bed across from hers belonged to Mae, and that was apparently now out of the question.

The bed to her right belonged to Rima Flagan. Who was nice enough, but a bit giggly for her taste. She was a short, pretty girl, who had taught Rachel about some spells for fixing your hair, and helped her do her makeup before. She'd even showed her a spell that shortened your skirt a few inches, while keeping it unnoticeable to the staff. (Rachel had politely passed on that.) Rima had been with her boyfriend Hugo Pierre, a Ravenclaw boy, for just about as long as Rachel and Declan had been together. She spent most of her time with him.

The last bed, to her left, belonged to Sabine Stronach. She was quiet, and had made it very clear since the beginning of school she wasn't interested in friendly small talk with her roommates. She spent most of her time in the library, and was friends with a couple of girls from Slytherin House. She had dark brown hair, with thick bangs cut sharply just above black rimmed glasses, her face always seeming expressionless.

No, no prospects of budding friendships to be found here. Rachel told herself that she just had to make it through the school year (just under 3 months left!), and do well on her NEWTs, then she'd be out of Hogwarts and they could all bugger off. They had testing all next week for their current classes, and the week after- the last quarter of the year began, along with the last classes she'd ever take at Hogwarts.

Rachel opened up her bag and took out her planner and a quill. She looked over her current schedule to figure out where she could fit in some extra studying.

Mondays/Wednesdays: One hour of advanced Transfiguration, followed by one hour of Charms. Lunch, then two hours of Arithmancy.

Tuesdays/Thursdays: Advanced Herbology down in the green houses, followed by double Potions. Lunch, a free period, then Defense Against the Dark Arts from three to five.

Fridays were her favorite days as far as classes went. She had Advanced History of Magic followed by Study of Historical Magical Artifacts; her two favorite subjects, and where her academic passions lie. She had the rest of the day free until Astronomy, which was ten to midnight. Most of the students didn’t like the class, usually falling asleep at their telescopes or annoyed at missing Friday night social activities. But Rachel thought the night sky was an absolutely beautiful thing to have to stare up at. She found it calming.

She scribbled down some study times in her planner, and peered in her book bag for the light blue binding of her Potions textbook. Opening it up, she got to work on the assignment Professor Snape had given her, and finished in less than an hour. She still had a couple of hours until Defense Against the Dark Arts, and wanted a break from starting at text. Rachel turned her head towards the small window and looked towards the grounds. It was a warm day for being the first week of April, so she decided she'd get outside for a bit and clear her head.

After putting away her things she walked through the common room toward the portrait hole. It was relatively empty, as most students were in afternoon classes at this time, save for seventh years with lighter class loads or those with free periods.

She made her way down the main stairs and into the corridor that lead to the entrance hall. Nearly there, she heard an odd noise that made her stop and listen. It sounded like some sort of whimpering animal, muffled and faint. She stood in the empty hall for a moment before deciding to follow the noise in case it was a hurt animal, as it wasn’t uncommon for small birds or squirrels to make their way into the castle. Following the sound to a small alcove that ended at a storage closet, she stood before the door. The whimpering had stopped, but there was still a small shuffling sound that told her something was in there. She took out her wand, ready with an entrapment spell, and threw the door open.

Her mind could hardly process what her eyes were seeing. In the small, dim space stood Declan; eyes squeezed shut and hands tightly clutching the table he was leaning against, with his pants around his ankles. And someone, (a head full of tousled hair is all Rachel could make out) was on their knees bobbing up and down at his groin. Rachel finally gasped in shock and Declan's eyes flew open. He let out an odd sort of sound, and snatched his pants up as quick as he could- interrupting the girl's task below him. She wiped the side of her mouth and looked up at him.

"What's wrong, Dec? Oh, god."

The girl turned toward Rachel. It was Rima. Rima Flagan sucking off Declan in a broom cupboard. Rachel was still standing in shock. Declan spoke as he fumbled with his robes. "God, Rachel, I'm… what are you doing here? I- I'm really sorry you had to see, um, this. Look, it's not really what it looks like you know…"

"I think it's exactly what it looks like!”

Anger was beginning to seethe through her.

“We haven’t even been broken up a full day Declan! Not even one bloody day! You- you are disgusting." She shot a look at Rima, still kneeling on the dusty floorboards, and spat, "So are you."

Backing up down the corridor the shock melted instantly into tears. She ran down the hall as fast as her legs could go, rounded a corner and kept running, trying to put as much distance as she could between her and the scene that was unfortunately burned into her eyes. She sprinted down a staircase not caring where it led… she seemed to think the pain might stop if she could just get far away from that bloody closet.

She found herself in a dark, narrow hall she'd never been, and slumped down into her knees with her forehead against the wall. Mere hours ago she had wondered why she hadn't yet cried over her boyfriend, and now she couldn't stop the tears- nor catch her breath. The vise-grip her heart seemed to be in clamped down on her lungs as well. She was taking in shallow, struggling breaths as she leaned forward, grasping at the stone as if she could claw her way to oxygen.

I just need to breathe. I need air.

She wasn’t thinking clearly anymore. Declan was fading from her mind as the panic from suffocation rose, and the already narrow hall was seemed to shrink in size, closing in on her oppressively. Just then she realized someone was speaking.

"..Damn it, girl. Breathe in slowly from your nose, and out from your mouth."

She looked up and through her blurry vision saw Professor Snape leaning over her for the second time that day. She was still heaving, struggling to breathe as she stared up at him.

"Do you want to calm down or not? Do as I say."

She concentrated and tried her best. "In through your nose and out through your mouth. Slowly." He repeated.
She kept looking in his eyes, as if they held hers there, just like earlier in class. But this time instead of inducing fear, they were helping her to focus, and within a minute or so, her breathing was slowing, her sobbing stopped.

The hallway was suddenly unreasonably silent.

He stood back and put out his hand. She hesitated to reach for it, he still so looked angry. But she did so and stood up, still looking at him.

"Thank you." She said quietly.

"This area of the dungeons is off limits to students."

"I'm sorry, I- I was upset, and running. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and just ended up here, I guess."

"Running?" He furrowed his brow. "If someone was trying to harm you then should be reporting it to your Head of House as per the rules of-"

"No... no, nothing like that. I just, I just discovered something... personal, something upsetting. That's all." She knew she must look a mess. Her eyes red and swollen, her cheeks tear-streaked. She looked down at her shoes.

"Well if you are quite done here then you should be getting on. There is nothing down this corridor except some store rooms and my private living quarters…" He cut his words off and cleared his throat. "So, if you will..." He gestured for her to move down the hall.

Her eyes were still to the stone floor as she made her away around him. She briefly wondered why he hadn't berated her or docked points from Gryffindor for her being down there near his… private rooms. She felt her cheeks flush. No doubt from the embarrassment of being caught in hysterics in a hallway. She winced at the thought of having to see him again the very next morning to turn in her parchment. But embarrassment she could take, it was a hell of a lot better than the heartbreak and panic she had been feeling just before he found her there.

 ......

Rachel stayed in her bed with her drapes drawn around her the rest of the evening, skipping her Defense class, and the evening Quidditch match. She tried to concentrate enough to at least do some reading, but it had been useless. She felt betrayed, as if the entirety of her relationship with Declan had all been faked. Or at the very least not what she had thought it to be.

Mae ignored her when she returned to the room the seventh year girls shared, as did Sabine but that was normal. Rima had snuck in late and crawled right into bed without speaking or making eye contact. Later, when Rachel reached for her wand on her night stand she swore she saw her flinch… shoulders then relaxing after hearing Rachel mutter "Depulso" for a quick banishing charm to send her books back to the shelf. She let herself smirk a bit at the thought of Rima being scared to fall asleep for fear she be hit with a revenge curse. But then Rachel lie awake thinking how ridiculous the whole thing was. Having quite an emotional break over being (sort-of) cheated on, hiding away in her room all day, Rima thinking her capable of hexing her.

No, none of this would matter out in the real world. She again found herself imagining the day she'd be out of Hogwarts, beginning her life. Though doing what exactly she wasn't sure. Before Monday night the only certainty about her life after Hogwarts had been that she would share it with Declan.

Her family consisted of just herself and her mum, who worked as a concierge at a hotel in Muggle London. She had told her daughter in a letter she'd have a job waiting for her at the hotel when she finished at Hogwarts, either in housekeeping or the hotel restaurant. She’d never say it outright, but her mother was weary of the magical world. Always innocently offering alternatives to schools, boys or, more recently, careers, that all happened to be in the Muggle world. Rachel had tried to sound grateful when she had written back, but the thought of not continuing her studies made her heart sink. Exploring the world and following her interests in Magical History was all she could see herself doing, and settling back into Muggle life working in the hotel business? She just wasn’t willing to do.

I have to get good marks, I have to do well now and then get myself into specialty training or apprenticeship.

Starting with the parchment of work for Snape. Embarrassed or not, she’d bring it in first thing in the morning.

Chapter Text

At breakfast, Rachel sat herself quite a bit away from ‘the group’, as she was now referring to Declan, Rory, Sam and Mae in her head. Glancing over a few times toward the Ravenclaw table at Hugo, she wondered if he was aware of his girlfriend's activities. He was joking around with his friends as normal, so Rachel assumed Declan and Rima had kept it to themselves. And probably hoping she did the same, a decision she hadn't yet come to.

Pausing when she arrived at the classroom door in the dungeons, Rachel wasn't sure whether or not she was supposed to knock. Normally, for class, she walked right in, but it was a half hour before the third years would be queueing up for Potions today so she wasn't sure if she'd be interrupting him. She decided on a quick knock, and heard his low voice “You may come in.”

He was sitting at his desk with his head down, black hair hanging over his eyes, marking papers. Rachel moved across the classroom and stood in front of him, feeling very awkward.

"I've brought my assignment, sir. Golpalott's Law...”

He raised an eyebrow, but went back to marking.

"I admit I wasn't expecting you to have it completed, given your...state, yesterday afternoon. You may set it here."

She placed it on the corner of his desk and stepped back. "Yes well, I wouldn't have let my… my being upset, result in missing work."

"How admirable." He sneered, without looking up, his quill scratching along the parchment.

"My grades are important to me, Professor. My schooling in general- is very important to me. Actually, it's all I have, really...”

She realized the sad truth in her statement as she said the words. Her eyes drifted to an undefined spot beyond the back wall as it sunk in. His quill stopped.

"Professor, I want to say thank you, again, for talking me down from whatever was happening to me yesterday. It's never happened before; it was the weirdest thing really. I was only crying, but then I couldn't breathe, I was terrified, and it felt like, like-"

"Like the life was being squeezed from your chest."

"Yes, yes exactly..."

In the short pause that came, she thought she saw a faraway look in his eyes. But then he was looking back down, his quill scratching again.

"It’s hardly the first time I've come upon a distraught student. That will be all, Miss Simons."

"I had actually already finished it, the assignment, before. Stupid really, over nothing but a couple of selfish prats with no consideration for anyone but them-"

He finally looked up. "Miss Simons I can tell you with absolute certainty that I have no interest in the dramatic woes of a student. That will be all."

She turned and quickly left the room.

He wasn't looking to hear all of your problems, she thought as she made her way to the Transfiguration classroom. Friendless and alone with her thoughts for only two days and she was gabbing to Professor Snape, nearly telling him what had happened. She was thankful she didn’t have Potions again until the next day.

Fifteen minutes later, Rachel was just sitting down in transfiguration when Declan, Sam, and Rory walked in. Normally, the four of them sat together in McGonagall’s class and always paired up for assignments. Today, they paused an awkward moment just inside the door and then took the seats across the aisle from her. She wasn't really expecting anything else, so today it stung a bit less.

Sabine Stronach ended up taking the empty seat next to her and Rachel flashed a friendly smile at her. Expectedly, she only received a blank look in response.

Professor McGonagall appeared at the door to her office behind her desk.

"Good morning, everyone. I do have a small announcement before we get on with our work for the day. I will need to be away from the school next week on some unavoidable business, so Professor Dumbledore will be covering for me in the classroom. I expect him to give me a report of perfect behavior when I return.
Seventh years, you all know that you have one last meeting with your Head of House to discuss career direction and subsequent NEWT class placement for your desired areas of study. To the Gryffindors specifically, since I will not be here when these meetings will need to take place, I will be sending you to receive your counseling from another teacher, who has graciously agreed to take it on for me, Professor Snape."

There were immediate noises and comments from several students obviously not happy about this. Rachel wasn't either. She did not need yet another one on one with the Potions teacher. Though she was positive he had as much of a choice in the matter as she had. Having to counsel Gryffindors on their personal interests and career aspirations was not something she could ever see him ‘graciously agreeing’ to.

"That is quite enough," Professor McGonagall continued. "These meetings are imperative in choosing your last set of classes, and if you hold any stock in your future you will take seriously the advice given. Professor Snape is perfectly capable of pointing you in the correct direction. You will each see me at my desk before you leave today and I will give you your scheduled meeting time. Now, please get out your wands. We will be refreshing your basic Conjuration skills today."

They were told to divide into groups. Neither girl having any other options, Sabine reluctantly agreed to partner with Rachel with a curt nod. They were to move down the Conjuring Spell list alphabetically, starting with Aguamenti and Avis. The first had each student holding a goblet while another tried to fill the glass. Most were more successful with this than the second, the bird conjuring spell, which resulted in tufts of feathers floating around the room and lots of chirps and squawks.

A while into casting spells she overheard Declan, Rory and Sam talking. She didn't necessarily want to eavesdrop, but they were sitting nearby, and conversation was allowed while working in groups. She kept her face to her notes, keeping up the mutual pretense that she didn't even notice them.

Sam was complaining about the announcement about Snape.

"I don't wanna talk to the grouchy git, only time he's ever directly spoken to me was to give me detention for copying! They were only notes..."

She heard Declan's voice next, and blinked slowly as it stung.

"He's always stalking about like he's the most miserable bloke that ever lived, and he's only what, not even 30? If he hates his job so much why doesn't he go figure something else out?"

Then Rory spoke, lowering his voice so Rachel had to strain to hear.

"Well, you know my mum works at the ministry, yeah? Well she says that her friend Susan from the Department for Magical Law Enforcement says that our very own dungeon bat Professor was a bona-fide follower of You-Know-Who. Had the mark and everything! Most of them either turned tail and left the country after the ship went down, so to speak. And the rest of them sent to Azkaban, even if they got only a few years with turning in cohorts and what not. But not Snape, instead, he landed a job at Hogwarts within the year! She says that something's suspicious there...”

The thought of Snape as a terrorizing dark wizard seemed ridiculous. Not that he certainly didn't look the part, but gliding around indignantly and being petty to students hardly meant he was capable of the deplorable acts You-Know-Who's followers had carried out in the name of Dark Magic. Besides, Professor Dumbledore would never hire a former Death Eater to teach children.

McGonagall announced the end of their work for the day, and Rachel left class that morning with her scheduled time to meet with Professor Snape for Monday evening at six. She tried not to think about the impending date, it was only Wednesday now, she made herself focus on getting through her classes.

In Charms, Professor Flitwick had assigned book work instead of practical, so sitting alone wasn't a problem. She sat alone again at lunch, now especially feeling the stares from her classmates who probably wondered what she had done to be dropped from her friends and dumped by her boyfriend in one fell swoop.

Hell, I couldn’t tell you.

Declan was avoiding her completely, the instances they did catch each other's gaze his eyes would dart away and he'd quickly find the nearest exit. Sometimes when she looked at him she wanted very badly to grab his hand and feel the familiarity of his palm against hers. Imagining him leaning over to kiss her cheek 'Hello' as he always did. Her heart would ache with dull pain and her eyes would prick. Other times, she felt a surge of animosity and wanted nothing more than to send a Stinging jinx straight to his crotch.

After Arithmancy, her last class of the day, she headed to her room to study. The Gryffindor common room had a nervous sort of energy about it. The long winter was finally over, and students were feeling the itch to be outside in the fresh air. But because of the upcoming testing week, most had kept inside, slouching in the comfy chairs reading or at the tables studying in small groups.

Entering her room she saw Sabine was the only roommate in at the moment. She was putting pieces of parchment into a small box, quickly closing the lid when she heard the door. Rachel moved toward her own bed and silently started unloading her books, glancing at Sabine from the corner of her eye.

Her classmate’s dark hair was pulled into two twisted buns side by side at the base of her neck. Her thick bangs cut in a perfect straight line as always. She had added some patches to her grey school jumper and wore several chunky chain-link silver bracelets. Rachel admired how effortlessly cool she looked. She had the compulsion to make conversation with her again, though she had tried several times in class that morning to no avail. To speak and be spoken to in return was an itch she desperately wanted scratched.

"They're sure bogging us down with work this quarter. Hard to believe we've only a few months left."

Sabine had no response. Rachel continued anyway.

"I don't think I've ever been more excited, but at the same time I'm terrified. I've no idea what I'm going to be doing next." The heavy uncertainty swelled in her again. She sat on her bed and toyed with the strap of her book bag, not really seeing it. She thought of donning a vest matching her Mum's and clocking in for a work day at the hotel.

I could do it for a while, maybe, while sending off letters and applying for positions elsewhere. Mum would at least be happy to see me regularly.

"I don't actually know exactly what I'm doing either."

The sound of Sabine's voice startled her. She hadn't been expecting a reply.

"I mean, I kind of do. I like writing, and was planning on trying for an internship at The Prophet. Or maybe an apprenticeship with an Editor at Obscurus Books. They don't take just anyone though. I suppose I’ll start with asking a few of the professors for recommendation letters. It's all pretty intimidating." Sabine's normally stiff demeanor had visibly relaxed. She plunked down on her bed and lie on her stomach, leaning up on her elbows. Rachel was glad she was opening up, and kept the conversation going.

"Right. Instead of gracefully flying away I feel like I’m being violently chucked out of the nest."

Sabine chuckled. "Oh, completely."

Rachel exhaled loudly. "I feel academically ready, I feel mature enough, in fact I feel older than I am, but I just don't feel I've enough life experience to be allowed out in the world alone… if that makes any sense."

"Yes, I feel exactly the same! As if I’ll only be pretending that I know what I’m doing. Funny, I used to be quite confident about my writing and where I wanted to be, but this year I've sort of been questioning it all." Sabine dropped her eyes to her hands and her voice grew quiet. "Last summer, a week before the school year started-"

The door opened and their roommates walked in. They'd been laughing about something with each other, and then gone quiet as soon as they made eye contact with the other two girls. Rachel felt instantly insecure. They'd either been talking about her, or about something they didn't want her to hear.

Does Mae know about Rima and Declan? Does everyone know? Have they all been having a laugh about it?

Tears sprang to Rachel's eyes at the thought, one falling before she could catch it with her hand.

"Hey Rachel, do you want to go to the library and study for the Transfiguration test?"

All three girls looked up at Sabine. Mae and Rima looked shocked to hear her speaking, let alone asking for a study partner. Rachel instantly wanted to hug her, realizing that Sabine, apparently noticing the awkward exchange, had come up with it to get her out of there.

"Sounds perfect, let's go."

The two seventh years hardly studied at all. The conversation flowed so easily between them that they talked non-stop. When it came time for dinner they went together, talking the whole time.
Rachel told her about her Mum, about the Muggle hotel job. Even about Declan and Rima, to which Sabine responded at first with the appropriate shock and disgust, and then by cracking jokes at the expense of the randy and idiotic teens. It made Rachel feel so much lighter after being able to actually laugh at the about it.

Rachel learned that Sabine had been raised by her Pureblood and aristocratic Grandparents. Her parents died a few years apart when she was young, and she hadn’t even met a Muggle until she was a teenager. Her Grandmother had died in their third year, and, finishing what she had started telling Rachel in their room before they were interrupted, she had lost her Grandfather just last August. Leaving her the only member of her family left, save an Uncle, who hadn't spent much time around the family in recent years.

Rachel's heart hurt for her, then she felt absolutely awful for complaining about a breakup when Sabine had experienced so much loss. She apologized profusely.

"Oh, it's alright. You didn't know. I've never been a talker, obviously. But, I'm glad we're talking now though."

The two girls smiled at each other warmly across the Gryffindor table. Rachel felt she now had at least one person she could call her friend.

Thursday's classes were just as intense as Wednesday's as they geared up for testing. She almost lost a finger to a Venomous Tentacula in Herbology.

In Potions, they were to brew the Draught of Peace, which was very complicated, making Rachel nervous for what Professor Snape could be saving for testing. She was one of only a few to get it right, though she received no praise. He had simply nodded without looking at her when he tested her sample, and marked it correct. Augustus Spencer from Slytherin earned 10 house points for his. She wondered if the kindness she had received from the teacher in the dungeon hall had been a fluke.

In Defense Against the Dark Arts, they worked on blocking and deflecting curses involving flames. Most people left the class with singed hair or clothes.

After a bit of commiserating with Sabine over their respective full days, Rachel fell into bed early that night and slept deeply… awaking to an to a silent, empty room. After flicking her wand for Tempus charm to check the time, she realized she had slept nearly ten straight hours and that breakfast was nearly over.

Dressing quickly and attempting to rub the sleep out of her eyes, Rachel made her way to the Great Hall. The large room was filled with students chattering over their breakfast, owls swooping overhead delivering the post. She spotted Sabine sitting alone near the end of the table reading a letter she had just received. She walked passed ‘the group’ without even looking at them and sat down next to the dark haired witch.

“Merlin, I slept hard last night! It felt good. How’d you sleep?”

Her new friend didn’t respond right away. Instead, she slowly folded the parchment she had been reading, slid it back into its envelope, then picked up her spoon and took a bite of porridge.

“Fine.” She said after a beat.

“Well, that’s good. What’s your Friday schedule like? I’ve got History and Magical Artifacts, then nothing until Astronomy tonight if you wanted to study later?”

Again it seemed to take forever for Sabine to respond. “No, sorry… not today.” Her voice was flat and she didn’t look at Rachel when she spoke.

“Oh, ok. Maybe tomorrow then?”

Sabine put her letter in her book bag then stood and walked out of the hall without another word. The feelings of paranoia and insecurity Rachel had felt when her former boyfriend and friends had also refused eye contact while cutting her out, just a few days ago, came flooding back.

Do I have Dragon Pox? What is the bloody reason no one will even look at me anymore?

She felt deflated and alone. She had thought that she and Sabine had connected, but it was now obvious the other witch didn’t feel the same.

Rachel put her concentration towards her morning classes. She took detailed notes on Professor Binns’ lecture in Advanced History of Magic, even though the tone of his voice made it especially hard for any student to pay attention for longer than a few minutes.

“…this was during the Great Wizarding Migration to the Americas, which occurred from around 1620 to the mid 1640’s. The Ministry of Magic was in the very early stages of its development and there were several factions of Wizards that were not in agreement with the proposed structure of governance. One particular group who began gathering followers to emigrate, was led by Domhnall Lockhart, known for his progressive ideas and effective leadership, along with his charismatic and somewhat arrogant personality…”

Next, she confidently threw herself into her NEWT testing preparation quiz in Study of Historical Magical Artifacts.

The Goblet of Fire is a flame-filled wooden cup which is the impartial selector of the Champions for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Explain what color or colors the flames appear as and what each color represents magically.

Rachel skipped lunch and spent most of the afternoon in the library preparing for the two tests that were scheduled for Monday; Transfiguration and Charms. She sat alone during dinner, Sabine not having spoken to her since breakfast and Rachel leaving it be, pride not allowing her to beg for friendship. Declan had given her a small, sympathetic smile when she looked in his direction, but still did not make any effort to speak to her. And after having to listen Rima’s constant giggling with the fourth and fifth year girls that usually followed her around, she finally gave up on finishing her food and headed to her room.

At around nine forty-five, after reading a few chapters from Flesh-Eating Trees of the World for Herbology, the young witch started for the Astronomy Tower, feeling relieved that the long week was finally almost over. At least she could end it staring at the stars.

It’s not as if I’d have anyone to spend my Friday night with even if I did feel like some company.

Unpacking her star chart and telescope once in the tower, Rachel resigned herself to a calm, solitary, boring night.

Chapter Text

At five ‘til midnight Professor Sinistra announced that they were done for the night. But as the class filed down the staircase, Rachel held back. She wasn't tired from all the sleep she had gotten the night before. And she was enjoying the breezy tower, even though the warm spring day had turned into a rather cool night. Professor Sinistra noticed the girl’s still figure as she began to follow the last student out.

“Miss Simons?”

“I think I’m going to stay a few minutes, if that’s alright, Professor. I’m not quite ready to head back to my dorm.”

“Well,” the tall, dark witch paused as if she was debating with herself. “I suppose. You’re certainly trustworthy enough, but don’t make it too long. It’s still against rules to be up here after curfew and I’ll have to pretend I didn’t give you permission.”

“Thanks, Professor.”

The Astronomy teacher gave her a small smile and then disappeared down the stairs.

Rachel sat on the wall's edge and stared out onto the dark school grounds.

She was anxious about the experiences that awaited her outside of these safe castle walls. Most seventh years were ready to let it come, thirsty to touch life from all angles. And in some ways, Rachel was.

For example, she was absolutely ready to be shot of the deep isolation that living here, without anyone on her side, caused. It couldn't be more apparent that she was desperate for contact. She knew it. She craved real reciprocity, just one authentic connection.

As she thought about it, she realized these feelings had started long before Declan dumped her. The relationship made her happy, it was her stability and she had clung to it. But it was a perfunctory love. They hadn’t shared that deep nexus that would keep them bonded through the trials of life. She realized it, just then.

She’d been so wounded that Declan hadn’t prized their relationship as she had, not held it in high enough regard. But maybe it was he who had the more realistic grasp of it, and she was now just catching up.

She didn't know if this awareness helped her or hurt her more, but sitting there on the stone ledge of the tower, she cried with the release of it. She was terrified about leaving Hogwarts, it was going to be the hardest thing she’d done up until this point, but it was going to be so good for her heart and soul.

After what she had guessed was about an hour, she shivered and thought of her warm bed. She wasn’t wearing her school robes as they weren’t required for the late night class, and she hadn’t remembered her coat or scarf. She was wearing her school issued skirt, a light jumper over her button down top, and her knee high socks. The socks being the warmest part of the outfit.

She slung her messenger style bag across her shoulder and made her way down the winding stairs from the Astronomy Tower. With the absence of daylight, this part of the school was very dark- presently lit only by small, yellow fires in wall sconces. Stepping out of the doorway at the bottom of the stairs and into the hall, she immediately collided into something tall and solid.

Professor Snape.

Of course it was.

They both recoiled and looked at each other, equally stunned. He held his wand in his hand, at the ready, like he’d just been about to use it. His eyes were wide and wild, with a look that Rachel may have described as panic, had she any time to examine it.

Immediately her ears registered the sound of swishing robes. Before she could react, his left hand was clamped hard onto her mouth. His other hand grabbing her by the upper arm as he walked her backwards. Her back hit the stone wall and he pressed his chest into her, pinning her there. He released her for a moment as he raised his arm above her. A glittering grey haze fell over the hallway beyond Snape and Rachel felt the weight of fabric settle on her head. Then his hand was again gripping her arm tightly.

"Don't…make a sound."

It was as if he had shouted it at her but it was whispered through clenched teeth. Their faces were so close drops of saliva hit her forehead when he spoke.

Her mind was racing.

Why is he doing this? I need help. I need to scream.

She was paralyzed with fear and didn’t know if she would have been able to scream, even if his hand wasn't pressing her mouth into her teeth. She was trying to force her vocal cords to function when she heard steps approaching. Snape's grip tightened. He pressed harder into her as if he was trying to push them both through the stone. Rachel could feel her arm bruising.

Two figures appeared at end the darkened corridor. Strangely, she suddenly had second thoughts about yelling for help, instinct telling her to keep quiet.

They weren't teachers, nor were they students. She had never seen them in the castle before, in fact. Two men -one shorter, one taller- both dressed in black robes. Rachel then realized that the haze through which she was seeing them was some sort of invisibility cloak, which she had heard of but had never seen, as they clearly weren't noticing the student and Professor as they made their way past.

The men were whispering.

"How many so far?" The shorter man said.

"Three."

"And there needs to be seven? To be completed?"

"Yes."

"And what then? The door will just be left open? You know I can’t guarantee that just by recognizing-"

Rachel had been standing up on her toes since Snape had grabbed her. Her right ankle suddenly gave out and rolled under her, and she fell down the wall a few inches. Snape's knee snapped in between her legs, sticking to the wall between her thighs and keeping her up, his chest pressing even harder into her. His face was now closer, his chin just barely touching the tip of her nose. The faint noise of their movements was just loud enough to reach the men before they rounded the corner at the other end of the hall...

The taller man put his hand up to silence his partner. "Shh."

They stopped and were now looking back in the direction of the noise.

"No more questions. Not here." The tall man gave one last look down the dim, seemingly empty space. "Let's go."

Squashed by the weight of Snape’s body in the stifling space under their covering, Rachel listened to the footsteps recede until the echoing sound disappeared into the walls.

Snape took his hand from her mouth and removed his leg; she was lowered enough to place her feet flat on the floor. Though she wasn’t sure her legs could be trusted. They were shaking.

He stepped back, the fabric slid off of her and was quickly tucked into his cloak. She could breathe again, the heavy pressure gone from her chest, the cold air of the drafty corridor now attacking her through her cardigan. He still had ahold of her arm, and she was pulled a few steps to the right, back into the doorway of the stairwell.

It was even darker there, a lone sconce pitifully attempting to light the space. The grip on her arm finally was released; Snape’s finger came up to his mouth telling her to keep quiet.

"We will stay here until I'm sure they've gone. And then you will go straight to your dormitory." His voice was just above a whisper.

"What- Who were they?"

"That does not concern you."

"Why were you in the hallway, with that... cloak? Why did it matter if they saw you? Or me?"

He leaned slightly, eyes darting to check the hall. "I was escorting them out."

"Without them knowing it?" She said it with a disbelieving tone; this was all so ridiculous. The shock had worn off, Rachel was angry.

"As I said, do not concern yourself. In fact, it would do you well to forget you saw anyone at all."

"Concern myself? I was just shoved into a wall and held against my will, Professor. Rather roughly, actually, so I'd think even if you didn't plan on apologizing I'd at least deserve to know why!"

His constant glances at the doorway were irritating her further. He didn't seem at all perturbed that she had nearly pissed herself with fright. Or that her arm hurt where he had hold of it.

"Keep your voice down."

"Then tell me what that was about!"

"Listen! Idiot girl!” His face twisted up and his hand shot up and slammed into the wall to the left of her head. Rachel flinched discernibly.

"You are quite lucky that I was the one to see you first, instead of them. Because if I hadn’t…" He stopped himself there, dropped his hand back down to his side and straightened his stance, seeming to compose himself.

Rachel knew that she should stop questioning; he'd actually given her more than she expected, but she was still pumping with adrenaline and wanted answers.

"Is Professor Dumbledore aware that men who pose an apparent danger to students are in the castle?"

"Of course he is. They had just finished a meeting with the Headmaster himself. It was under his direction that I was making sure they did not deviate on their way out. Which, because of your heedless wandering, I wasn’t able to establish. Now, tell me,"

The man’s dark eyes narrowed and were again staring into her. Bottomless pools of black, with flares of gold from the reflecting candle.

"…why is it that twice this week I've happened across you in restricted, shadowy corridors?" His face was very close. He was trying to intimidate her, but she wasn’t quite ready to fold.

"I was wondering the same, actually. What amazing luck I must I have." She spat it out, trying to match his tone, but didn’t reach his degree of impudence. In fact, to her ears, she still sounded scared.

He glowered at her a moment more, and then his expression settled into his usual countenance. He took yet another look out into the hallway. "We need to return you to your dorm. Follow me."

They walked in silence. His body moved swiftly and calmly, but his eyes shifted quickly each time they turned a corner. He also seemed to be listening for something.
He still said nothing as they reached the entrance to the Gryffindor tower and Rachel announced the password.

“Honestly, at this hour…” the Fat Lady protested, yawned and then opened. Rachel stepped through the hole, looking back as the painting began to swing shut. Eyes locking once more with the formidable stare of her Professor.

A little later, as Rachel lay in her bed in that strange place between sleep and awake, black eyes stared into her, only inches from her own. Warm fingers touched her lips, sending fervent tingles from her mouth down to her belly. There, swirling like potion in a cauldron and then continuing even further down… the girl unconsciously pressing her thighs together under her covers.

At about same time, in the dungeons of Hogwarts, a normally unstirred young man was trying hard not to think of the hot breath he had felt on his neck. Throwing open the solitary window; he filled the bedroom with cold night air, imploring it to extinguish the residual heat of her body.

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

The next two days passed agonizingly slowly for Rachel. Despite being in close proximity to hundreds of peers, she was completely alone, only speaking a handful of words aloud all weekend.

Saturday and Sunday were mostly spent in the library amongst the books, taking companionless walks around the lake when her muscles protested sitting any longer. At meals, her gaze kept traveling up to the High Table. Professor Snape ate his food with hardly a word to the other staff, the usual air of boredom and superiority about him.

Rachel, however, could still feel the palpable urgency he had projected during the incident in the hall. It’s what convinced her to heed his advice and not raise the issue further or bring it up with another Staff member.

Granted, she did seem to always be rolling it around in her head. She actually thought little of the two black-robed men or their purpose… mostly replaying what Snape had said to her and the more witty, mature ways in which she could have responded. She recalled each small movement he made, and felt the cold of the stone on her back. It had dominated her thoughts, constantly having to force it out of the front of her mind so she could concentrate on her studying. She even had the vague memory of having dreamt about it.

Sabine was back to her previous self… snapping at anyone who tried to be friendly. Mae, Sam and Rory whispered and threw sideways glances Rachel’s way. Both Rima and Declan avoided eye contact with her and steered clear of each other.

If this is how the rest of the school year is going to go, it’s going to be a miserable three months.

.........

Monday morning brought the first round of the third quarter testing. Rachel had two and a half hours each in Transfiguration and Charms, with a break for lunch in between. Professor Dumbledore was now covering for McGonagall, and his relaxed attitude and humor made the exams go by quickly.

Rachel had complete confidence in her score when she handed in her stack of parchment to Dumbledore, then expertly transfiguring an old shoe into a small chest of drawers with working locks for the practical portion.

Charms was tougher, much more about memorization, but after doing the demonstration for Professor Flitwick she felt good about how she did. Having no friends to speak of at least seemed to pay off academically.

By Monday evening, the now familiar stress of standing at Snape’s classroom door was hitting her again. Walking in there to sit alone with the Professor to work out her new schedule proved to be more difficult than she thought. She stood with her hand on the door handle for a full minute before she was able to steel herself and knock.

But when she saw him, sitting at his desk amongst parchment, books, and quills just as he had been the week prior, she didn't feel the same apprehension and fear she did only a few mornings before. She felt something quite different, actually. Something she couldn’t quite pin down, but thought it might have something to do with how much he had been on her mind over the weekend.

The work benches and stools had all been moved to the outer edge of the large room, and a single desk sat centered a few feet in front of his. He didn’t mention anything about what had occurred near the Astronomy Tower- not that she had expected him to. He had simply started the meeting by taking out a page of some pre-written questions, and took notes as he asked them.

They went over the current quarter’s classes, grades, and preparation for the testing happening that week. Rachel had talked too much. She gushed about her love of history, what she thought was wrong with the testing method, unnecessary observations she thought were funny. (He hadn't laughed.) In the moment she didn't care if he thought her silly; it felt good to talk with someone. Even if she was really only talking at him. He also hadn't stopped her, waiting until she had finished each tangent before asking her the next question.

He’d then given her a few pieces of parchment filled with more detailed questions about classes taken previous years, grades received, career goals, and an area to fill out a preferred schedule. He sat opposite her, busy marking papers from what she guessed were that day's classes.

As she sat in the quiet room filling out the questionnaire, her attention seemed to wane a bit. A little while in, the professor cleared his throat in annoyance so she looked up. She had been quietly singing to herself, and his face told her he wasn't enjoying it.

"Sorry, sir." she smiled. "I don't always realize it when I'm singing." He pursed his lips, and then returned his attention to his marking.

"It's a muggle song, they played it on the radio all summer- I absolutely hated it,” Rachel laughed. “...and now I find myself singing it all the time. It's about two people needing something from the other, sort of desperately, really. It's constantly stuck in my head."

He didn't respond, but he didn't look murderous at her chattering, so she continued.

"It's called Leather and Lace. A girl called Stevie Nicks…and the guy; I can't remember his name, actually. It's a duet."

The room fell silent again except for the scratch of his quill. She watched his hand as he wrote. His handwriting was rhythmic with loopy, elegant strokes, much better than her own. His other hand lightly holding the parchment in place, long fingers resting there, slightly curved. The same fingers that had been on her mouth.

Rachel wasn't writing anymore, she was staring at him, a half-done questionnaire in front of her.

Get it together. This is Snape. Your teacher. You need to stop your babbling and just finish this thing.

"I remember you, you know."

She was babbling again.

"Pardon me?"

"From school, as a student I mean. I was a first year when you were in your seventh."

He looked a bit taken aback. Perhaps confused as to where she was going with this.

She didn't know.

"You wouldn't remember me of course, I was painfully shy then, and obviously in a different house. But I do remember you carried a huge amount of books around with you, and that you used a spell to levitate them while walking to classes."

After a minute of looking at her with a bit of suspicion, and a bit of curiosity, he said,

"Minitur Pondus."

"I haven’t heard it.”

"It isn’t a levitation charm; it lessens the weight of an object by three quarters. It enabled me to carry a larger number of texts." His features softened in a way she had never seen them before. As if the thought of heavy books was a fond memory.

They were still looking at each other, the silence saturating the room. It made vulnerable to stare back into his eyes, but she felt audacious, brave, for the fact that she wasn't looking away. Almost as if she was challenging him. Or challenging herself.

He finally broke the connection, picked up his quill and began marking again. The young woman's heart was beating slightly faster than normal.

She was going to do something stupid.

She stood from the desk and very carefully started taking steps toward him.

"And then I think it was a few months into fifth year, when you came back and began to apprentice with Professor Slughorn. I thought, 'That's the clever boy with all the books'."

She felt a twinge of misgiving for calling her Professor 'boy', but his face remained calm, watching her out of the corner of his eye as she moved around his desk and stepped toward him. Her heart was beating harder than it ever had but she willed herself to seem perfectly relaxed.

She stopped directly next to his chair and leaned her backside on the edge of his desk to his left. His head had turned slightly toward her, eyes on an undetermined point on the papers in front of him.
So far so good, she thought.

"I wondered why someone would want to come back to this place so soon after having spent seven years here. You must truly love the art of potion making; you're certainly good at it. Brilliant, in fact."

She reached to where his left hand lay on the desk, concentrating on holding steady so he wouldn't notice her shaking. She slipped her fingers underneath his and lifted his hand. She sensed the slightest jump in his body as she made contact, but he allowed his arm to move, albeit rather stiffly, as she pulled his hand to her lap, stroking his fingers.

She had never done something so insane in her life and thought in that moment she was probably going to be expelled. The next thought, which quickly overpowered the previous one, was the fact that the only thing separating his fingers from the place she suddenly required them to be was the grey cotton material of her skirt.

She tried to read his face, but he remained a motionless, expressionless figure. His lack of a reaction was starting to cause her to lose the courage that carried her to this point. She was running on adrenaline, and if it crashed now- well, she wasn't yet ready to deal with the repercussions.

"What are you doing, Miss Simons?"

She was relieved when he spoke. His voice was very quiet, but steady. He still did not look at her.

"I wanted to tell you, I have… thought about you, since our… run-in on Friday night."

A pregnant pause. Neither knew if it was the others turn to speak. She was relieved when he finally did.

"What is it you want?"

She had been moving her fingers over his hand as if she were examining it. It lay there, his own fingers not moving to answer hers, but pliant... allowing her to turn his hand over with ease, run a finger down the crease of his palm, feel the rough pads of each of his fingers with her thumb. She knew how she wanted to answer his question, but didn’t know if she had the moxie to do it...

“I want you to touch me.”

Snape stopped breathing.

A knock on the potions room door broke through the moment. She instinctively released his hand, and it disappeared into the folds of his robes.

"Return to your seat."

He still spoke quietly, but it was definitely a command. He finally looked up then, his face was still inscrutable, but in his eyes was a absolutely desperate pleading. It shook her.

She turned away and stood, moving away from him and sliding back into her desk.

She risked looking back at him, but his eyes were again staring at that same indeterminate spot on his desk. He straightened his sleeve and cleared his throat. "Yes, come in."
The door creaked open.

"Oh, uh… Sorry, Professor."

Rory stood in the doorway. Eyes quickly moving from Rachel to Snape and back again. "My scheduled meeting time is 7. Shall I come back?"

Rachel looked at the clock on the wall. 6:59. Had an hour gone by already? She was only about half-way done with the questionnaire; they hadn't even gotten around to talking about her classes.

"No, that won't be necessary Davis, come in."

Rachel felt a stab of disappointment and fought the urge to glare at Rory as he walked past her and collected his questionnaire from Snape.

"Sit down and complete this, and then we will discuss your options.” Snape instantly had his wand in hand and waved it, conjuring another desk and chair.

“Miss Simons, since we were unable to establish a schedule for you, you will need to see me again before the week is up, as classes are to be chosen on Friday. Make it Wednesday, noon."
He scribbled something down, and still did not look at her.

"Yes, sir."

She gathered her things, set her unfinished parchment on his desk and made her way out of the room.

Rachel was feeling a lot of disappointment, and a little bit of shame, but excitement pounded in her chest. And she couldn't stop the smile that formed on her lips as she closed the classroom door.

Chapter Text

Tuesday’s classes passed by in a blur, Rachel going through the motions of the day in a bit of a distracted state. She was worrying about how she had performed in Arithmancy and Herbology as she stared down into her chicken and asparagus at dinner.

She had been trying to feel embarrassed about how she had acted; anyone would be mortified after behaving like she did, never mind the fact that it was her bloody professor. But she couldn’t bring herself to truly feel bad about it. She felt plucky and a little nervous, maybe. But she didn’t regret doing it. The part that was troubling her was not knowing what Snape was thinking about it. He had been so completely unreadable and had really shown no signs either for or against the… proposition.

Is that really what it was? I’m not sure what else it could have been; yes… it was most definitely a proposition.

Tomorrow at their second meeting she’d find out what he thought. It wasn’t something that either could pretend didn’t happen, and it could only go one of two ways. He’ll be furious and she’ll be punished, McGonagall most likely being brought in to it. Or, much less likely, he’ll have thought it a good idea and then… they’ll make arrangements? Shag right there in the classroom?
Rachel had to laugh at herself. She had absolutely no idea what she was doing. If they ever really got together, he’d most likely find her too immature and inexperienced… maybe giving it a go once and then avoiding her for the rest of the year.

Rachel and Declan first had sex summer after their fifth year, and both being virgins, it had hardly been the toe-curling experience she’d imagined. But it had meant a lot to her all the same.
Nineteen eighty-one had been an intense year. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was defeated that fall, and the tangible shift in the general atmosphere of the magical world had been immediate. There were celebrations happening all over well into nineteen eighty-two. And it was at one of these parties, thrown by Declan’s parents at their estate, that they had given in to the triumphal frame of mind and experienced each other.

Rachel spent portions of the last two summers there with the Kirkes. His parents always gracious and his 10 year old sister adoring. On these visits, she and Declan would occasionally slip away to their spot under the Yew tree, with a blanket laid out and an untouched picnic lunch. Hurried, teenage fumblings that she would have described as passionate at the time.
Along with a few hot and heavy snogging sessions, that was the extent of Rachel’s carnal knowledge.

Rachel found herself in her room, having walked there from the Great Hall hardly knowing it. She pulled off her grey jumper with the red and gold stripes around the neckline and walked over to one of the two floor length mirrors that were in each dormitory.

She didn’t really have an idea of how attractive she was to other people. Declan had always told her she was pretty, and she knew from their sexual encounters that she definitely affected him. But other than that she hadn’t put much thought into it.

She was on the tall side, standing somewhere between 5’7 and 5’8. A bit lanky she thought, and had always wished for wider hips and a curvier bottom. Since quite young, she had a larger chest than other girls she knew and she supposed that this was a plus. But as a younger girl they were only embarrassing and now she just viewed them as a nuisance- shirts never fitting well, button ups always needing sticking charms, and her bra size being harder to find in stores.

Her face was heart shaped, she had what she considered to be lips of thin to medium plumpness, and larger grey-blue eyes set under brows with a natural sharp arch to them. She did have very long eyelashes, and as Rima had told her “they’d be quite amazing with some mascara over that dull color.” Rachel kept her straight hair long, cut with some framing around her face as an attempt at a hair style. It was an unimpressive ash blonde… or as an older girl had called it when Rachel was a second year, “dirty dishwater blonde”. She hadn’t liked the color ever since.

All in all she supposed she looked… unremarkable. And until this preoccupation with getting Severus Snape’s attention, that hadn’t mattered to her at all. She could now almost understand a girl like Rima Flagan, and briefly had the thought that maybe if she had put more stock into her sex appeal before, Declan wouldn’t have stopped caring about her. But soon as she thought it she told herself to knock it off, she had never been one to measure her self-worth on whether or not a man wanted her, and she wasn’t about to start now.

Still, she looked herself over and wondered what sort of girl Professor Snape was attracted to. And decided that she’d step it up a notch in the grooming department to help get her where she wanted to be… which was tangled up somewhere in the folds of his robes.

-------

Wednesday started off with a bang- the Defense Against the Dark Arts testing was intense, and while it bothered her that she hadn’t quite mastered the repelling of Dementors, (all she could seem to conjure were faint, white wisps) she knew she did well overall.

Next order of business was Snape, followed by her History of Magic test. She was to be in his classroom at noon and had never been more excited for Careers Advice. She kept going over things she could say, how she’d sit, how to flip her hair, something she’d observed more than a few girls doing. She even put a coat of mascara on and spritzed herself with honeysuckle perfume when she dropped some of her books in her room before heading to the dungeons.

The potions classroom was set up different than it had been when she had come for the first meeting. He sat at his desk as he had before, but there were four students, fourth years, near the left side of the room sitting in front of stacks of dirty cauldrons. They had sullen looks on their faces, dirty rags in their hands and grime smeared on the front of their robes. The tables and chairs seemed to have been pushed back, the nearest one to his desk farther away that it had been before.

“Talking is not permitted when serving detention.” Snape snapped at the students, when one of them whispered to another. “If you concentrate on your task you should be done scrubbing cauldrons in, say, two hours or so.”

The swell of hope in Rachel’s chest deflated. These kids were going to be in here the entire time. No chance for any… excitement.

“You will find your incomplete questionnaire on that desk, Miss Simons. You have twenty minutes and then I will look it over. If it is not finished in the time allotted, I will be choosing your subjects for you. Your time starts now.”

She stood there for a few seconds, actually feeling sorry for herself. Snape going back to what he was doing, ignoring her presence. When she accepted that the circumstances weren’t going to suddenly change, she sat down and got out her quill and ink. Aside from a few questions on any future education plans, the only thing she had left to do was fill out the preferred subjects and schedule.

She already knew what she wanted to take her final NEWT testing in, so she got started on filling it in. She wanted to continue Arithmancy, Transfiguration, Potions, History of Magic, Defense Against the Dark Arts and Historical Magical Artifacts. She wanted to drop Herbology, Charms, and Astronomy. She had very good grades in all of these subjects on her record if needed, but her desired field of Magical History didn’t directly involve any of them, really. She did want to pick up Advanced Ancient Runes, she had taken Ancient Runes her third and fourth year but wanted to try for a NEWT in the subject, since a lot of possible employers for would require or at least appreciate it.

After she had finished, she put her ink and quill back in her book bag and looked up at her Professor fixed on his work. So austere, rigid. But also, Rachel thought… positively miserable. How did someone so young become so tightly wound and already set in such malcontent?

It was not a coincidence that there was lunch hour detention going on at the same time he had scheduled her meeting. And with a few bites to her lip she conceded this to mean that that nothing was going to come of her advances. That it would take a miracle, or a perhaps a Veela, to pull reckless abandon and passion out of this man.

She sighed. “I’m finished, sir.”

“Hand it here, then.”

She stood and tossed her bag over her shoulder, strode up to his desk, and held out the parchment. He gave it a glance, and set it on top of one of the stacks of paper.

“As per usual, schedules will be delivered to the common rooms on Friday. You may go.” He continued writing.

She didn’t go, not immediately. She stared at the top of his down turned head, at the strands of black hair that hid most of his face. She just wanted to know, for certain, that there was no chance. That he’d never allow himself to be receptive, not to her at least. That he was a book she’d never read… If he’d only look at her-

And then he did. He looked up and at first his face conveyed nothing. But then his dark eyes flashed with such intensity she knew she wasn’t making it up. And then, that other thing was there… that same pleading, pained look he had given her when she had sat on his desk and held his hand. She didn’t know what it meant, but she knew she needed to know what it meant and she felt her body start to move… She was going to launch herself across the desk and beg him to tell her what it meant. What was wrong…

CLANG!

A shockingly loud noise rang out and their attention snapped to the far side of the room. One of the students who had been serving detention was standing near the tall shelves along the wall with her eyes squeezed shut, her hands covering her ears and a black, rusty cauldron rolling on its side at her feet.

“What in the name of Merlin is wrong with you, Johnson?” Snape bellowed, louder than Rachel had ever heard him speak before. He stood so quickly that his chair was shoved back making an awful screeching noise on the stone floor. “Were you trying to lift that cauldron to the top shelf yourself? Did you forget you were the owner of a wand?”

“You said we weren’t allowed to use magic, sir. I-”

“I said you weren’t to use magic for cleaning the cauldrons, I did not say to perform every menial task as if you were a Muggle. Now stack the cauldrons on the appropriate shelf by using a spell like a competent person.”

The student frantically searched her robes for her wand. “Y-yes, Professor.”

With an especially aggressive swoosh of his robes; Snape was striding toward the small office behind his desk, slamming the door behind him. The students seemed a little shocked at the superfluous reaction, and Rachel was left standing stock still, feeling like the wind had just been knocked out of her.

Why was she so affected when he merely looked at her? She had felt as if she were standing on the edge of a cliff, as if she were about to jump and fall a thousand feet but at the last second was yanked back.

The sound of clanking and shuffling from the four students brought Rachel out of her own head. She had come here wanting to find out if there was any chance of penetrating the barriers Snape had placed around himself. Now, she stared at his closed office door thinking that it couldn’t be a better representation of the answer.

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

Advanced History of Magic testing that afternoon was arduous, but as expected, she performed perfectly in the subject. During dinner, Snape wasn’t at his seat, so Rachel was forced to look for something else to turn her attention towards. Sabine had given her a small smile, which was a good sign, but it wasn’t quite enough to give Rachel the confidence to approach her. Declan, Sam, Rory and Mae weren’t snickering in her direction at least, but instead just pretended they didn’t see her.

Rachel noticed Rima’s boyfriend Hugo amongst the Ravenclaws leaning his face into his hands, without a plate of food in front of him. She’d still been considering telling him, and everyone really, about Declan and Rima. She didn’t see why she should keep their dirty secrets. But Hugo looked a bit depressed today, and maybe that meant that he now knew.

Rachel went to bed that night rolling around the notion that there was something inside Severus Snape that needed to be pulled to the surface. That even though he was making it clear he didn’t want anything to do with her, she shouldn’t give up quite yet. That maybe during the testing the next day she could somehow get his attention... Let it be known one more time that she was there, that she wanted him, and that maybe she could even help- soothe a little that buried piece of him that seemed so wounded.

The next morning, Thursday, was the last day of testing. Friday they had off for a long weekend before the beginning of the last quarter. Rachel had Study of Historical Magical Artifacts first thing in the morning, and felt more than ready for it as she pulled out her pages and pages of notes once in class. It seemed to go quickly, and then afterward in the Great Hall for lunch, Sabine approached her.

“Hey! Um… I was wondering if sometime this weekend, you wanted to hang out? Maybe get out of the castle and out into some fresh air?” For the first time Rachel could remember, Sabine seemed awkward and unsure of herself.

“Yeah, I would. Tomorrow afternoon, maybe?”

“Yeah, okay.” Sabine gave her a small smile before walking off.

She’s a tough one to figure out, that one, Rachel thought.

She already knew the testing in Potions that afternoon wasn't going to be easy, and it wasn’t. Professor Snape’s deep voice sent instructions out over the classroom.

“For the first portion of today’s exam, you will retrieve supplies from the storeroom and prepare the Draught of Living Death… in a ten inch, not sixteen inch, pewter cauldron. This will of course change the ratio of ingredients and you will make the needed adjustments. Bottle your sample and place it in the phial rack on my desk. I trust I don’t have to tell seventh years the importance of labeling your sample correctly.”

As he delivered each word, he had the full attention of every student in the classroom. Which was per usual. But Rachel sat particularly entranced with his voice. As well as his body movements as he waved his wand adding the ingredients list to the blackboard. She waited on baited breath for the moments his eyes fell on her; just for a quick moment before they continued on across the room.

“When you are finished, you will then prepare what is known to reverse the effects of the Draught of Living Death… the Wiggenweld Potion.” A wave of his wand and a second ingredients list appeared on the board.
“There is sufficient salamander blood for each of you as needed for this potion but it is currently in low supply, so take care not to be wasteful. To allow time for clean up afterward, you will have two hours to brew. You may begin.”

Rachel had to concentrate so intensely on her potion making that she was given reprieve from her pining. She was confident she did well… better on the Wiggenweld than Living Death, (Damn those stubborn Sopophorous Beans) but well nonetheless.

Near the end of class, everyone was cleaning their work benches and putting unused ingredients back in the storeroom. Rachel found herself intentionally moving slow. If she had just a few minutes alone with him she could approach... Ask him to tell her outright that she was being ridiculous and childish and he wanted nothing to do with her. She’d tell him that it didn’t have to be bleakness and gloom all the time, that he could even find a bit of pleasure in life… with her, maybe. And she could find some with him…

There were now only a few students left ambling about, but they were making their way toward the door. All Rachel had left on her desk was a handful of small jars of various ingredients to put away. She gave the desktop a third unnecessary 'Tergeo' and slowly closed up her bag. She hadn't yet looked towards him, she was afraid if she did before the last student left he'd order her out. But she could feel his eyes on her back, and it unnerved her.

The last of the students filed out the door… they were alone. This was it, she was going to walk up to his desk and-

"Afternoon, Professor," said a rough, crackled voice.

Before the door had shut and latched behind the last student, it opened again and Filch hobbled into the room.

"You 'ave next week's detention list for me, do ya?"

"Keep your hair on, Filch,” said Snape. “I happen to have four victims for you to claim. Here you are."

As Filch hobbled up to the desk she gave in to the Gods with near tears in her eyes that it was just not meant to be. He began to complain to Snape about the measly amount of students he was being given but already Rachel was headed for the storeroom. It was more like a large closet; lined with shelves and hundreds of small glass phials, jars and boxes. Once inside the door, her eyes pricked, but she squeezed them shut.

Merlin’s tits what is wrong with me? Get a grip!

This was getting ridiculous. Her little crush was becoming far too serious if she was bloody crying over it.

Setting down her bag she walked over to the shelves near the rear of the room and started putting away the jars. She was almost finished when she felt the distinct static buzz of magic. She heard the door latch shut, and she turned to see Snape walking determinedly straight toward her. He was across the small room and upon her in three strides.

She hadn’t had time to turn around, the length of his body was against the back of her and she was pressed closer to the shelves. His hands were instantly sliding down her arms and onto her hips, then his voice spoke directly into her ear.

“What is it you were getting at on Monday? Was… this… what you were thinking? Hmm? Did you actually want me this… close… to you?”

The entire left side of her head and neck grew warm with his breathe and goosebumps erupted all over her. She couldn’t speak, she thought she made some kind of noise when he spoke but she couldn’t be sure. She was losing control of herself and the only thing she could concentrate on what how this felt.

His hands were still moving, wrapping around her and over her stomach, up around her ribs and then just under her breasts. She definitely heard herself let out a small moan then. Even the scratchy wool hem of his frock coat brushing against the exposed area of the back of her legs, between the bottom of her skirt and the top her knee high socks, caused her skin to tingle. It was as if her body was hyper-sensitive so as not to miss a single point of contact.

He was nuzzling under her hair into her neck now and her head lolled backward to give him more access.

“And weren’t you saying that you wanted to be… touched?”

She was barely capable of forming words but managed to breathe out, “You... I want… to be touched by you.”

And then she felt his lips on her neck, just under her ear. And Gods, the sensation was so good she almost couldn’t take it. Her left hand covered his, which was still moving across her abdomen and she desperately wanted to guide it downward, but wasn’t quite brave enough. She decided on moving his hand up over her chest, and pressed down on his fingers squeezing her breast with his hand. He sighed into her ear then, she didn’t think she’d ever heard a more amazing sound, and his right hand slid down her thigh and then back up, lifting her skirt up with it.

And then he touched her, ever so softly, over the top of her knickers, and she moaned loudly and her face flushed hot. She bucked a little, back into him, and she could feel his hardness right up against her. Before she could give that more thought, his fingers were moving over the top of her clit, which was becoming more and more sensitive as the blood rushed to her lower half. She needed him to touch it, rub it, press hard on it or else she’d go out of her mind with the ache.

She was rocking into his hand, unable to stop herself, and he responded by slipping his hand underneath the thin material of her knickers.

It was then she realized she was soaking wet. One long finger slid into her folds, just dipping into her, then pulled out bringing her wetness with it to circle around her clit. A quick intake of breath, and she was speaking.

“Yesss… ohhh, oh yes.”

He pressed down on her and circled rigorously. She couldn’t see his face, but she could still hear and feel his breathing in her left ear. As he rubbed and rolled her clit with his slick fingers, it swelled and throbbed. She moaned and breathed and sometimes words escaped her...

Then he was dipping back into her, she was even wetter than before, a second finger joining the first as they entered her fully and began pumping and curling within her walls.

“Oh God, ohh…”

Rachel was experiencing pleasure like she had never felt before. Every inch of her body rose in temperature. She now had one hand on the shelf in front of her for balance and her other hand which had been clutching his left arm was now moving down and behind her, searching out the rock hard length of him.

But he shifted his hips, just slightly, so she couldn’t reach. There was instant disappointment. She wanted to feel him, wanted him to feel what she was feeling…

Then he was back on her clit, rubbing and circling hard and fast and she was gone again, her eyes squeezed shut with the euphoria of it. Something in her was rapidly building.. .

“I... I’m going to.. Oh god, uhhhnn…”

Flashes of light were popping in front of her eyes, and she was coming, with such intensity that she knew she was bursting wetness over his entire hand. Her ears registered the sound of clinking glass, but it was far away. In a separate world from her moans and her bliss and the man giving it to her.

His fingers slowly slid up out of her. Her skirt fell back to rest on her thighs. She was still clutching the shelves, panting. Then, she was back in the small room, her eyes opening to see broken glass on the stone floor. It took her longer than it should have to realize she must have knocked phials off the wall.

She felt Snape step away from her, and she turned around, having no idea what to do or say next. He was standing against the wall near the door, eyes flicking between hers and somewhere over her left shoulder. He seemed just as unsure of how to proceed as she was. He cleared his throat quietly.

“I’ll take care of that,” He gestured to the glass shards. “Fourth years will be arriving shortly for class. You should-”

“I should go.” She interrupted. “Study. Astronomy test tonight.”

Rachel was couldn’t think of what to say. At least, nothing that would have been coherent. She started for the door but as she passed him, he stepped in front of her.

He looked down at her from his height, and they stayed that way for a few long moments. She sensed he wanted to say something, but she was learning that he was so proficient at conveying emotion with only his eyes, that he really didn’t need to.

Still looking into her eyes, he swiped his wand toward the door and for the second time Rachel felt the buzz of magic as he removed the spell he had apparently put on the entrance.
His other hand came up toward her face but stopped just under her chin. After a moment, he lightly touched her jaw, and she had to try hard not to close her eyes and sink into it. Then his hand was gone, and Snape stepped aside. Forcing her feet to move, Rachel picked her bag from the floor and left the room.

She went straight back to her dorm and got under her covers. There she stayed the rest of the day in a sort of dazed delight, her mind far away from the goings-on of her roommates. She only left the room at ten that evening for her Astronomy test, (she had no idea how well she might have done) returning to her bed right afterward.

Before she slept that night she touched herself. Trying to recreate what she had felt when they were his fingers instead of her own. She made herself come, but it was nowhere near the intensity of the climax that had happened in the Potions room supply closet.

________

Severus was up early that Friday morning. He was in his private office, separating the student’s new schedules into letter trays. A crack disrupted the silence.

“You needing Copper, sir?”

Severus handed one of the boxes to the house elf that had just apparated into the room.

“Please take these to the Gryffindor common room.”

“Yes, sir. Is Professor finished with his tea?”

Severus nodded and the elf snapped his fingers, disappearing the tea tray from the desk.

“Copper is glad for you is eating this morning, Professor. Professor Snape is not normally eating in the mornings.

Nosy bloody thing.

“Gryffindor common room, elf.”

With a nod and another crack he popped out of the room.

Severus went to the cupboard and retrieved the cloak that had been lent to him the week previously, and left the dungeons for his meeting with the Headmaster.

As he walked through the castle, he was fighting against troublesome thoughts. Manifesting in the form of his conscience; tapping him on the shoulder and wagging a finger at him.

He hadn’t actually meant for anything to happen. He had intended to tell her off, in so many ways. To be intimidating and maybe even a bit menacing… To rattle her just enough, so that she would know better than to throw herself at a grown man. Especially a man who had never alluded to welcome such attentions. A man who, in fact, purposely acted in such a way to make it known to anyone that it was against a person’s better interest, even dangerous, to attempt such a thing.

Not that she was that much younger than him. Severus was a few months into twenty-three, and he knew merely from teaching her for the last two years, that she was eighteen, a full year past wizarding adulthood. But that did little to ease his guilt.

He only had the idea just as he saw her disappear into the storeroom, after she so obviously waited out the rest of the class. His rough plan was to go into the room, ward the door behind him with a dramatic flourish, and in no uncertain terms get her to regret her absurdity. He had even practiced a few lines in his head as Filch rambled on...

“What exactly did you think would happen, Miss Simons? That you’d start going steady with a professor? That you wouldn’t be expelled thus the whole school finding out, as they undoubtedly will?”

Of course, he meant to embarrass, to shame her. He found that he was good at intimidation, and it had become an ally to him these last few years since he left school himself. It had saved him from some uncomfortable, and even perilous, situations, in fact. He was still honing the craft though, and any chance he was able he practiced… students, of course, being the most readily available subjects for this.

He even had the thought, depending on her reaction to this first part of the plan, that he may even try a slightly more mischievous angle. He’d pretend that he actually was interested. That he was all for it, but then remind her, he was no teenage boy. He was a man, and did she know what that even meant? Was she prepared for such an undertaking? Of course, at that point she’d go scurrying out of the room aghast and horrified at the reality of being intimate with one Severus Snape, and then he’d have a laugh.

He’d also decided to keep her absurd, failed mission to himself. He’d be satisfied at the knowledge of having scared her off. And the fact that she’d be unnerved and most certainly repulsed, would be punishment enough.

But, something unexpected had happened. An unknown animalistic being had risen up from inside Snape and seemed to take over his decision making.

He locked the door with an Impassable charm and a Notice-Me-Not charm like he planned yet when he saw her there, alone amongst the hundreds of glass phials and tiny labeled boxes, his legs took him straight to her. Then his face was in her hair and the smell of it took him back to when they’d been in such close contact in the dark hallway. His mind was a bit Confunded and his body had been tingling. And when she had responded to his question, when she had said that, he was so taken aback that he lost the last bit of self-control he had left. He was calling her bluff, challenging her ridiculous boldness, yet she was undaunted.

She responded with ‘yes’. Indeed, she more than said yes. Her body seemed to be crying out for it. Pushing back and rubbing her arse along his length, even reaching back for him, wanting more, utterly in need of gratification.

And he’d discovered in that moment that he very much wanted to give it to her.

In fact, feeling the way she was responding, by how her body shuddered and jerked and melted against him, well, he’d suddenly never wanted to oblige someone something more in his entire life. He endeavored to send waves of bliss through her, and was confident that he did. But when she reached for him, tried to return that pleasure, he couldn’t let her do it. It hadn’t been about him. It was about her. She was desperate, deprived, deserving. But, him…

Now as he strode down the Gargoyle Corridor, at the end of which was the entrance to Albus’s office, this seemingly well-reasoned explanation for what occurred only sounded like an excuse.
Guilt was spinning like a ball of gathering yarn and beginning to form something more distressing in the young man’s mind. Abashment, in addition to self-disgust, for giving in to the misplaced lust of an eighteen year old, giving in to his own impulsive desire.

“Pink Pepper Imps.”

The gargoyle shook to life and jumped aside revealing the staircase behind it. Severus took a moment before he climbed to throw up his mental shields.

Concentrating on building each wall around the particular set of memories, he encased them and pushed them behind all other thoughts in his head, keeping the rest completely open.
He was constantly working on his Occlumency, and liked to think he was getting rather good. It was much more difficult to wall off specific memories than it was to simply close off your entire mind, which was obviously quite suspicious. You may as well yell ‘I’m hiding something’ at the top of your lungs if you planned on bringing your completely sealed mind in close proximity to an even moderately-skilled Legilimens. And Albus was much more than moderate.

The old man may know most of my secrets, but he’s not going to know this, Severus thought. And not even his beguiling manipulation was going to trick Severus into telling him.

He knocked on the door at the top of the stairs. The door opened and Snape found the Headmaster standing near one of the small tables in the room, winding up a tiny silver object that looked like the combination of a lightbulb and a music box.

“Ah, Severus. It’s been a busy week, hasn’t it?”

“It has.” He reached into his robes and held out the Invisibility Cloak.

Dumbledore nodded as he took it, and waved his wand over it causing it to disappear into a small cloud of faint sparkles.

“I’m sorry we haven’t had a chance to talk until today. Covering for Minerva this week has reminded me of how challenging it is to directly oversee the education of young minds. Here, have a seat.”

Severus sat down in the high-backed chair in front of the desk. A cup of tea floated over from one of the cabinets and set itself down in front of him. Albus gestured to the teapot on the desk. Severus decided to bypass the usual needless small talk.

“I wasn’t able to thoroughly see Lucius and Corban out of the castle that night. A student, a Gryffindor as it were, was out of bed and in the area of the castle they happened to be walking. I was able to intervene, but they had gone by the time I delivered her to the dormitories. I felt that keeping a student out of their way was the more immediate concern.”

“I agree, of course.”

“I checked with Hagrid as soon as I was able and he confirmed they made it to the gates and disapparated.”

The older man relaxed and sat back in his chair.

“Was the student aware an encounter was avoided?”

“No, she saw them, from afar, before I was able to redirect her. Though I see no issue coming from it, or I would have communicated as such. I explained that she ought not be concerned about it.”

“Of course. And the student, this… Gryffindor, as you said, was she convinced?”

The Headmaster’s tone was light, and he was picking through a glass bowl of colorful, hard candy on his desk, but his eyes flicked to Snape’s face at this last question. Snape wished the man would just come out and say what he meant for once in his life.

“Yes, I believe she was.”

“Well, then. Shall we talk about the meeting that you were able to arrange? I assume you’d like to know how it went.”

“I would say I’m curious, yes.”

“As you know, they didn’t tell the truth about why they wanted a meeting with me. And they kept up the act, though I’m not sure they think I was really persuaded.”
Professor Dumbledore poured himself a cup of tea and set his spoon about stirring it for him.

“Lucius wanted to know, if I could use my influence in some way to help get him a seat on the Hogwarts Board of Governors. He said that he was turning thirty this year, and that he had made it a personal goal to make it on the board by his birthday, as to be the youngest ever appointed.”

Severus made a face. “He thought you’d buy that? He’s got plenty of connections through other channels. Even if he didn’t, all he would need to do is throw money at them. Besides, with the amount of donations he already gives the Ministry, I would have thought he’d be seeking a job there.”

“The very thing I thought as well. At any rate, he said he’s been unable to secure a seat with approval from all members of the board. He suspected it may have something to do with his involvement, coerced or not, with certain Dark wizards. It was his opinion that a few members had let the hearsay, about whether or not he had truly been under the Imperius curse, influence their judgement.”

Severus rolled his eyes.

“In his words,” Dumbledore continued, “because of his family’s prominent status, and their history of having been associated with ‘misunderstood organizations’ known for displaying... pride for their heritage, he was merely an easy target of gossip by those not satisfied with mysterious and abrupt fall of Voldemort.”

Snape snorted. Malfoy had so easily fooled the Ministry. But some had suspected that he was lying, and some... knew for certain that he was.

“And Corban Yaxley? What did he say was the reason for him coming along for the meeting?”

“He seemed to have brought him along as proof of his connections and position with the Ministry; he said that Mr. Yaxley is to set to take a job in Department of Magical Law Enforcement next month. You’ll remember Amelia Bones took over as Head a couple of years ago... Lucius seems to think that Mr. Yaxley will most likely have her job by this time next year. I believe he wanted me to think that he’s going to have so many friends in high places eventually, that it would possibly be a detriment to my own standing at the Ministry to not put in a recommendation for him.” The Headmaster chuckled a little.

Dumbledore stood and returned to the lightbulb-shaped music box. He picked it up and began winding it again; apparently he hadn’t been able to get it to do what he wanted when he wound it before.

Severus knew Dumbledore was waiting for him to ask more questions, instead of just bloody telling him the rest.

Snape stood from his chair and followed him to the small table. “And your answer to his request? Do you have a guess as to the real reason they were here?”

“I told him I’d consider it. I believe he knows that to mean that I will not, but I don’t see him coming to the castle to ask about it again. I think even he knows that would be a little too suspicious. As for the real reason for the visit, I can’t say that I do. What do you think, Severus? Do you have any ideas?”

“I didn’t when they first came to me with the request to set the meeting up and I still don’t now. The only thing I do know is that they lied to me about the reason the same they lied to you. I have told you, you’ll remember, that Lucius does not fully trust me anymore. Not since I came to work here, and not since I have started avoiding the… get-togethers… that he frequently holds at his manor.”

“Yes, you would have been a regular at those events in the past wouldn’t you?” The Headmaster’s eyes twinkled. “You know, maybe you should give them a try again. What do you think? Do you think you could handle being around that lot for some nights of recreation, over the next few months at least?”

Severus clenched his jaw. And once again wished the old man would just come out and ask him when he wanted something. The word games were exhausting.

“Of course I could handle it.” Snape said, unable to hide the irritation in his voice.

“He sends out an invite around the 18th usually, and the party is held the last week of each month. I will respond with ‘yes’ as soon as I receive the owl.”

Dumbledore gave a tiny nod, and with that Severus was walking out the door.

Chapter Text

Across the castle, in the Gryffindor common room, the long weekend had already started. It was bustling with an energy unusual for Friday mornings, the crackling of the fire was the backdrop to the steady hum of conversation and laughter, and the occasional meow, croak or crunch of a Wizard's Chess piece as a victory was gained.

Rachel had slept in, and then taken her time getting ready for the day. At eleven, she was still up in her room, taking a last look in the mirror before heading downstairs.

She never minded that they were required to wear uniforms, she was awful at putting anything decently fashionable together anyway, but today she felt she hadn’t done such a bad job.
She wore a loose fitting, cream-colored knit jumper that fell about mid-thigh, maroon leggings, and her white slip on trainers. She threw her bag on even though it didn’t have much in it today, resting it on her right hip with the strap across her body over her left shoulder.

The seventh year had a bounce in her step as she descended the spiral stairs. Yesterday’s event was still very fresh in her mind, sand he had a three day weekend with plans to hang out with Sabine to look forward to; providing her roommate didn't have another sudden change of personality.

She entered the busy common room and headed to the old bureau that was near the portrait hole. It was the communications area, with a bewitched bulletin board that hung on the wall above it where notices or announcements would appear when needed. Rachel scanned the pieces of parchment that were spread over the wooden table top, knowing that before they had been rifled through by students that had actually gotten up on time, they had been placed there in a perfectly neat stack by Professor McGonagall. She spotted her name and then sat down in the nearest arm chair to look it over.

Monday/Wednesday/Friday: Transfiguration, Arithmancy, Lunch/study hour, History of Magical Artifacts, Defense Against the Dark Arts
Tuesday/Thursday: Advanced History of Magic, Ancient Runes, Lunch/study hour, a free period, Advanced Potion Making

It was her ideal schedule, exactly as she had requested. Her eyes traveled to the bottom right of the page. As a stamp of official school approval, right under the Hogwarts crest, were initials scrawled in black ink… SS.

Every quarter for her entire seven years here, there had been two M's in pointy, tall writing on the new schedules. It was a trivial detail, but to Rachel the letters... had some significance. Suddenly remembering that McGonagall had been gone all week, she wondered if it had been Snape who delivered the schedules that morning. The idea of the tall, black-robed wizard against the backdrop of the warm and cozy Gryffindor common room made her laugh. Rachel's eyes lingered on the initials.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and looked up to see Sabine.

"I was wondering when you’d come down. Feel like hanging out today? If not, we’ve got Hogsmeade tomorrow... we could go together?"

"I’d almost forgotten about Hogsmeade. I’m up for both.”

“Alright, great! I've already been down to breakfast; do you want to meet me after you've had yours? Say, in the entrance hall in twenty minutes?"

-------

The first person Rachel looked for when she walked into the Great Hall was Snape, but there were only Professors Sprout and Trelawney. She was still in a good mood as she ate her eggs and toast, not even minding that she was again sitting alone.

Soon, she and Sabine were walking down the sloping Hogwarts grounds. They chatted about how they had done on their tests and compared schedules. They had Transfiguration, Defense, and Potions together and Rachel was glad for it. She knew Declan was most likely in these same classes as well and had been hoping to have a little support.

Eventually they ended up at the lake’s edge. They decided to sit, and Sabine transfigured a napkin from her pocket into a blanket to protect them from the damp grass.

“Any luck on deciding what to do when school's over?” Rachel said.

“Not really. I still haven't asked for any recommendation letters... I need to do that soon. How ‘bout you?”

“Not a clue. I told you about the job with my Mum… while it sounds good to have a job waiting for me, I just don't think I can do it. Slipping back into Muggle life... I mean, it would be easy…"

Rachel looked out over the black lake. Sabine followed her gaze and did the same. The clouded sky and the water’s surface were the same shade of overcast-gray.

"It's never bothered me that I'm muggle born, actually, I'm glad for it.” Rachel continued. “Lately I just wish I wasn't alone. I think I'd feel more confident if I had family here or a tight group of friends, a support system. I thought I had that in Declan, but now… If I did decide to go live as a Muggle there'd be no one to even notice I had gone."

Sabine seemed to have a knack for knowing when to listen and when to speak.

"Well, I'd notice. And listen, there's not a muggle or even muggle-born in my family for at least six generations and I haven't got any of that either. I mentioned my parents died when I was young… Well, my Dad was killed in a Disapparating accident when I was 7, so Mum and me moved in with my Grandparents and my Uncle Adrik. I hadn’t known them at all before then. My Uncle is closer to my age than my Mum's, so he was more like a cousin. A bad-tempered, bully of a cousin…”

“After moving there, Mum changed. Even as young as I was I could tell she was struggling. I think losing my dad really destroyed her. Then, when I was ten, she jumped off the roof and like that she was dead."

Rachel gasped loudly and put her hand to her mouth.

"I was gone at the time. My first slumber party. I never should have left her that night."

"Sabine, there was no way for you to have known... You were ten!"

"I know that, but it's something I'll always wish I could change. Anyway, my Uncle finished his seventh year and left home two years after that, but like I said he was such a prat I was only relieved."
Sabine looked down and twirled a blade of grass in between her fingers.

"My grandparents weren't exact the warm type. But it was still hard losing my Grandmother my in my third year, I know she cared about me. And my grandfather, I really feel like we finally started to really connect last summer. His health was bad for a long time, so I wasn't surprised when he died, but it’s been... hard."

Sabine sat up straight and took a slow breath in. "My point is, I’m on my own too. Except for my Uncle Adrik, but like I said we're not close. And I never was any good at making friends."

Rachel felt a swell of fondness for the dark haired girl sitting next to her.

“Well, I suppose we’ll just have to have each other’s back, then.”

…………………...

A gust of wind blew in behind Severus when he entered the Hog’s Head Inn, his cloak fluttering down around his ankles as the door shut behind him. He was still feeling a bit out of sorts, and getting out of the castle distracted him from examining the feelings too thoroughly.

He had only just sat down at a small, dirty table near the front window when he heard Minerva's voice. He looked up as she was walking over to him from where she’d been standing near the bar, talking to a Witch in purple. Though he'd known her for many years, Severus still thought it odd to see Minerva wearing anything other than her teacher’s robes. On this blustery Saturday, she wore a maroon wool cloak and black hat and gloves.

"Severus, you've let yourself out of the castle. I assumed your lungs only accepted damp, dungeon air." She pursed her lips, plainly fighting a smile.

"I see you’re back from holiday. And no tan lines? Oh, Minerva,” Severus replied, his voice full of mock scandal. “Don’t tell me you prefer those kind of beaches?"

"Oh, stop it.” She lightly slapped his arm with her gloves after removing them. “Besides, you know very well I like my weather grey and gloomy. Now can I sit or not?"

"Please."

They smirked at each other and Professor Snape waved his wand at the chair opposite him so it slid out from the table. She sat down, and then nodded to the man behind the bar.

"Just tea today, Aberforth."

"The same." added Severus. "So, Minerva, family well?"

"Yes, thanks. My brother and his wife very much enjoyed their get-away and I very much enjoyed having the children. Although, Elphin may have a different opinion of the last week if you asked him. Somehow, Michael sent his broom flying into the greenhouse and smashed six of his potted plants! There’s now four separate wards on that damned old shed."

Professor McGonagall snickered before continuing.

"Thank you again, by the way. Careers advice isn't the easiest task even for your own house, let alone students you don't know as well. Did any of them give you trouble?"

At that moment Severus realized that he would now be keeping secrets from more than just Dumbledore. The guilt he’d been trying to push down began to rise again.

“That bad, hmm?"

"No, it all went fine. But you might ask your substitute teacher how he fared. I think the job may have finally knocked him off his trolley."

“Oh, the man could teach Transfiguration in his sleep.”

A tray of tea floated over and set itself on the table between them.

"Now, are you going to tell me what you're doing here or not?"

"I’ve got to have a motive to patronize a pub on a Saturday?"

She gave him a look that said she wasn't buying it.

"I took Pomona’s post as playground guard today.”

“Oh that’s right, it’s a Hogsmeade weekend! Away from the school for 5 days and I’ve lost the plot.”

“I’m just out a little early. Even my lungs need a reprieve from the damp dungeon air, you see."

"Don't I always tell you to get out of the castle more often? It's just that usually you don't listen. Is everything alright?"

"Of course it is."

Her eyes narrowed at him, but if she had anything else to say she decided against saying it.

"Go on, pass the milk."

---------

A little later that afternoon, Rachel and Sabine were browsing through the shelves inside Tomes and Scrolls. Both girls had agreed it was the first place they wanted to go on their day in the Village.

Sabine was looking for a particular book on creative writing, and Rachel was practically drooling over a first edition copy of A History of Magic that was in amazing condition.

After they’d finished in the shop, they stepped out into the bright, chilly day and made their way slowly toward the school. Rounding the corner onto High Street, they immediately saw a group of people that were directly across the street from them, sitting on a bench outside of Honeydukes.

Two of them were nearly on top of each other… Rachel’s sandy-haired ex was whispering something into Rima’s ear as that Goddamned giggle rang out over the street.

Sam was sitting next to them, Mae was lying with her head on his lap. She had a lollipop stick hanging out of the corner of her mouth and was cheering on Rory, who was leaning against the light pole, tossing up Every Flavour Beans in the air and catching them in his mouth.

The scene was surreal to Rachel. Like a realized delusion of her worst fears. Completely replaced, in every sense, with a seamless transition.

Sabine noticed her friend had stopped and followed her gaze toward the other students. "Well the absolute twats..."

They didn’t have much choice but to walk passed them. And even though they were on the other side of the street, they’d be noticed for sure. Sabine put a comforting hand on Rachel's back.

"Fuck ‘em. C’mon, let’s go."

The demeaning embarrassment Rachel had unfortunately become familiar with these last few weeks swelled in her again. She was still standing there, staring.

"Unless you wanna go throttle her? ‘Cause I'm up for either."

Sam, Mae and Rory were watching them now. Declan had his eyes on his feet; his usual reaction to seeing Rachel as of late. And Rima, with a wide, pompous smile on her face, winked at her when their eyes met.

That fucking bitch.

Sabine had saw it too, her mouth dropped open in shock.

Rachel’s wand hand tingled as her magic itched to manifest. Anger surged inside of her, but before it even had the chance to reach its peak, that horrible feeling of dejection was back. Crashing into her, turning her rage into nothing but weak inadequacy. They were taunting her, she was sure of it. And they all knew there was nothing she could do about it. It was absolutely humiliating.

Rachel felt like she was breathing through a straw. Her eyes, blurry with tears, darted to the store fronts hoping for a nearby open door that could provide escape. She could try Disapparating out of there, she’d just passed her Apparition test nearly a month ago, but at the moment she couldn’t even think what the first bloody step was.

Merlin’s balls, why can’t I breathe? Not this again, please!

Sabine was now standing directly in front of her and speaking, though Rachel couldn’t quite hear her over her own wheezing. Movement caught her eye to the right of Sabine’s head, just passed the silver barrette she had in her hair. A black smudge against the grays and browns and greens of the little street.

It was Snape. He was about a block down, at the corner, it looked like he’d been walking and had frozen mid-stride to look in their direction. Rachel wished that she was close enough to see the inky depth of his eyes.

I bet they look amazing out in the daylight.

She envisioned his eyes on that day, (was it not even two weeks ago?) when he calmed her in the dungeon hallway. What was it he’d said to her? ‘Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth.’

Rachel kept the blurry figure of the man in dark robes in her view and slowed her heaving lungs as best she could, while concentrating on doing just that. No details of the professor could be seen, but she knew he was still and steady, and he was looking in her direction, that he was there.

She could hear Sabine now, “That’s it. Just breathe. Tell me what you wanna do. Do you want to sit? Just breathe...”

Along with the fortifying lungfuls of air came the realization that simply continuing down the street was an option for getting away. It seemed silly now, only seconds later, that that just hadn’t occurred to her. But now, she wiped the tears from her cheeks and started walking without looking back, Sabine pacing silently next to her.

As they came to the cross street, Rachel glanced across the intersection to look at Snape. He was posted on the corner in the spot usually occupied by whoever was supervising the Hogsmeade outing.

He wasn’t looking at her now, he stood with his hands locked together behind his back, somehow managing simultaneously to seem acutely alert to his surroundings, and yet completely indifferent.

The students ignored him as they passed by. They were traveling in small groups popping in and out of shops, couples were holding hands, a Hufflepuff shrieked with delight almost directly in his ear as she passed when a Screaming Yo-Yo went off. He didn’t react to any of it, he just stood, scanning the street with his eyes.

“You good to keep going? Or do you need to stop?”

She had forgotten about Sabine in her distraction. She looked so concerned… Rachel appreciated her immensely.

……………

It was especially loud in the Great Hall on Monday evening at dinner. The students had finished their first day of their new classes, and were having a hard time shaking off the energy of the long weekend.

Rachel had taken to sitting near the front of the room, to see the High Table more clearly. She hoped she wasn’t being too obvious, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted Snape’s attention. Replaying the feeling of his breath on her neck while she touched herself at night wasn’t cutting it five days on. But she wasn’t sure when she’d be able to talk to him privately.

A sizable, black and tan Eagle Owl swooped down from the rafters and landed in front of Professor Snape. Rachel watched him as he sliced the envelope it had carried open with a flick of his wand. She wasn’t close enough to tell for sure, but she thought he rolled his eyes as he read the glittering gold writing on the black card stock.

He pulled a quill from his robes, wrote something on the back of the card, and sealed it back into the envelope. He held it out for the owl still perched on the table’s edge and then picked up his spoon and resumed eating his porridge.

Rachel wondered who it was that was writing to him… then forced herself to turn away. She wanted him to know she was waiting for him, she didn’t want to be pathetic.

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

'April 19th, 1983
Rachel Simons- Ancient Runes- Professor Babbling

In Anglo-Saxon Runology, using ‘the futhorc’ as your base, the translation of ancient scrolls and/or spells is a relatively basic process. Issues can arise, however, when there has been a mixing of Muggle and Magic-specific runes, as well as when a separate Runic alphabet of a Dark origin is involved, as there are very few confirmed ciphers for these in existence…'

Rachel was in the middle of class, writing out the rough draft for her first Runes assignment when a small, paper grasshopper hopped onto her desk and landed right on top of her parchment. She lifted her quill to let it hop on, assuming another desk was its destination, but it stretched its back legs imitating stridulation, and then gracefully unfolded itself in front of her. 

Rachel,
I was wondering if we could talk, for a few minutes, in private. Maybe after class? Let me know.
- Hugo

She looked up and saw Hugo Pierre, sitting with a few other Ravenclaw boys, looking over at her. She gave him a nod, having some idea of what he wanted to talk to her about and not at all looking forward to it.

Rachel was one of the last students to exit Professor Babbling’s sixth floor classroom a short time later. She looked down the long hall toward the entrance to Ravenclaw tower, and spotted Hugo near the wall about halfway down.

“Hi… So, what did you want to talk to me about?”

“Hey, I know this is sort of awkward, but you and Declan broke up right?"

“Yes, a couple weeks ago.”

“And you know that him and Rima are now together, right? She broke up with me Wednesday morning and by Friday night they were snogging all over the school.”

Rachel made a face at the thought.

“What I wanted to know is, well, did you and Declan break up for a specific reason? You see, I’m starting to think... I think something may have been going on between them before she dumped me.” Hugo said this like he'd told her he’d just discovered a lost ancient city.

How in Merlin’s name is this kid a Ravenclaw?

Even up until that very minute, Rachel didn’t know if she should tell anyone about what she had caught the two arseholes doing. Looking into Hugo’s confused and pained face, she figured he ought to know the truth. Plus, she didn’t owe them her silence.

“There were less than twenty-four hours between Declan breaking up with me and discovering the two of them half-naked together in a broom cupboard."

Hugo went pale.

“I’m a hundred percent certain that there was something going on between them before Declan and I broke up.”

“I-I was going to propose. Right before graduation. Already got the ring. We had it all planned out. Her dad, said was going to get me a job with him, at the Ministry.”
He leaned against the stone and ran his hand through his curly hair.

“I’m sorry, Hugo. It’s awful, I know.”

“So you’ve known, for weeks…”

“Um, two weeks, today, actually.”

“And you didn’t think to say anything? To tell me that my girlfriend of three bloody years was naked with someone else in a closet?”

“I assumed, I guess, that she was going to tell you soon, and I wasn't even sure if she hadn’t already.”

“Well you could have checked!”

“Look, I said I was sorry-”

“Who’s ready for lunch? Hi Hugo, how’s it going?”

Sabine’s smiling face was suddenly there. Thank the Gods for this girl, Rachel thought.

When she looked back at Hugo, he was already several feet away, audibly huffing as he stomped down the flagstone.

Twenty minutes later the two girls were sitting on Sabine’s bed having sandwiches and iced pumpkin juice that they had picked up from the Great Hall. Snape and his Potions closet were still at the forefront of Rachel’s mind, she nearly let it fall out of her mouth a few times throughout their conversations, but she knew she couldn't reveal what had happened. She wouldn't risk ruining her education, let alone Professor Snape’s entire career, just to be able to gush about it to someone. Because truly, that’s what she was dying to do.

Sabine talked with her hands, and mid-sentence knocked her bottle of pumpkin juice off the nightstand and onto the floor.

“Shit! Tergeo. Tergeo!”

She crouched down and began pulling several dripping books and bags from out from under her bed, casting more cleansing charms while Rachel tossed a towel that was hanging on the bedpost down to her.

“Nothing important I hope?”

“Very important.” She wiped the last of it up. “Actually, you might think it’s a bit weird... It’s my Mother’s diary.”

Sabine pulled a box up onto the bed and sat back down, one hand patting the lid in relief. “Just a little on the corner. All good.”

Rachel said, “If my mother keeps a diary I don’t know about it, but you’ve lost your mum. I don't think it’s weird at all.”

“When I was home for Christmas break, Bixby told me he’d found a bunch of my Mum’s things in the attic. We stored things up there when we moved into my Grandparents house. Oh, Bixby’s our house elf,” Sabine added. “But the diary had gotten unbound somehow, and all the pages were scattered throughout several boxes. He was terribly upset, kept swearing he didn’t make the mess, but I know it was probably my grandfather. In the end, he got... forgetful. Confused often. Started talking about my Mum a lot. He seemed to struggle with her death more than he ever had before. I think he had probably decided to go through her old things for whatever reason and then probably forgot why he was even up there.”

Rachel heart hurt for her friend. She had dealt with so much.

“So I gathered up what I could find before coming back to school. But a lot was missing, and the pages aren't exactly numbered. Bixby’s cleaning and organizing the attic and owling me any loose pages he finds. I’ve almost got the whole thing. Far as I can tell. Some entries are dated, others I can tell where they fit by what was going on in her life at the time. Do you... wanna see?”

“Sure, if you feel like showing them.”

Sabine opened the square, brown box that Rachel had seen her put quickly away when anyone would come into the room. A large stack of yellowed parchment lay inside. There were color coded bookmarks throughout, separating the pile.

“I made these. To help me. She was fifteen when they start, and the last entry I have is just after my Dad died.”

Feminine handwriting covered the worn pages. Rachel liked that Sabine trusted her, but did feel strange reading someone’s diary. She wasn’t sure if the fact that it was a dead woman’s made it better or worse.

---------

In Potions that afternoon, Professor Snape ignored her. Which wasn’t any different than he had treated her the entire time he’d been her teacher, but still, Rachel was more than disappointed.

What were you expecting him to do? Announce our elopement to the class?

It was the same two days later in Thursday’s class, and by Friday when he wasn’t in the Great Hall at dinner she couldn’t take it anymore. Rachel should’ve been concentrating on her schoolwork from the first week of the quarter, but she just couldn’t. Besides, she’d acted like a reckless idiot to get his attention before, what was stopping her from doing it again? Her pride? That was long gone, it had practically been laid bare at his feet.

Friday night at around nine, the students of Hogwarts were enjoying the social aspects of a boarding school. Most were hanging out in their common rooms, some were snogging in abandoned hallways, or in the kitchens talking the house elves out of pastries or chips.

Rachel, unable to stand not seeing Snape alone all week, was sneaking down to the dungeons, trying to locate the marginal hallway in which she’d encountered him after discovering Declan and Rima.

She’d even prepared herself. Freshly showered with legs shaved, wearing her skirt without her black school tights underneath.

The burning for her professor that radiated in between her legs had reached a fever pitch. She remembered that he’d said his private living quarters were somewhere near that hall, and she’d made it her goal to find it.

Once she found the hallway, she walked to the end of it and came to a T. She decided on going right, only to find a wooden door that came open easily with a basic unlocking charm.

Nothing but stacks of rusty cauldrons and old work benches.

She backtracked, and took the other corridor. This one ended at an unassuming black door, but the magic of what must have been several security wards was emanating off of it in waves.

Should I dare try?

A whispered Alohomora answered the question. But not surprisingly, nothing happened. Moving on to the only other thing she could think of, she knocked.

Rachel watched the door nervously. She waited for it to be flung open with the fury of a pissed off Severus Snape. She didn’t have a plan of what she would say to him, and her shining Gryffindor grit began to dull for the first time since she set out on this insane Friday night quest.

And then out of the quiet darkness, a hand clamped down onto her shoulder from behind.

“What are you doing, Simons?”

Rachel’s heart nearly jumped from her chest. The Snape-fury she’d anticipated was definitely there, in his face and his body language, it had just come at her from behind.

“I’m looking for you. I’ve been wanting to talk to you all week.”

“Then you could have taken the opportunity in class and simply raised your hand.”

The man had the ability to make the most banal phrase sound like a death threat.

“I wanted to see you, I thought…”

“What?”

“I just... wanted you.”

Rachel was instantly spun around and pushed up against the stone wall. One of his large hands pushed on her shoulder and the other held her in place by her abdomen. His face was inches from hers and she knew she should be frightened but all she wanted to do was kiss those lips.

“This isn’t going to go how you think it is. There’s no need for you to come looking for me alone again, do you understand?”

“Don't you want…? Then why, would you have done it in the first place?”

“I simply thought I’d throw you a bone for your ridiculous efforts."He said cruelly. "But if you think this is something that will continue, you are very wrong.”

“You want me to leave you alone?”

“Yes!”

“I think you’re full of it.”

She pushed her mouth to his. She didn’t give him much of a choice, but he did open for her and she pushed her tongue inside, moaning into his mouth at the warm, wet feel of it.

Yes, yes!

Kissing this man was Heaven. Absolute bliss.

Then he was pulling sloppy kisses down her cheek and neck and Rachel melted from the heat of his tongue on her skin. In between the sucking and licking, she could just barely make out the words he was saying.

“You don’t want... This... You don’t want me to… do...”

“Yes I do! Fucking hell, I do..”

He seemed to make a split second decision just then. With his face buried in her hair, he fiddled with his pants and pulled one of her legs up over his hip. She whimpered when his fingers reached in between them and pulled aside her knickers. Then she felt him. The full, rounded tip of him, right up against…

‘Your pussy,’ a vulgar voice in her head told her. ‘He’s about to fuck your pussy.’

Oh God.

He pushed in just slightly, and there was a stinging pain. He was so much larger than Declan, and it felt like she was going to tear. She squeezed his shoulders and her breath hitched. She held her breath and waited for it. But her small, breathy sound seemed to stop Snape in his progress.

“Please.” She heard herself say. She honestly didn’t know if she could take him, but she couldn't bear the thought of him stopping.

But the solid pressure slipped away and he released her leg. They’d been so close! Surely too close to just stop?

“You need to go.” Snape breathed.

“No, please…”

“GO!”

The wizard’s voice exploded into the silence of the dungeons. His hands grabbed at his trousers and in just a few steps he lurched into the doorway of his rooms. Slamming it behind him and leaving Rachel alone and wrecked.