He was already so dizzy from dancing that the cold air in the yard felt like diving into a different world. The snow between the rose bushes was trampled and somehow the bushes didn’t look as neat anymore as they had when he had seen them before entering the castle. Though the fairies still flew around, casting multicoloured glows on the leaves and flower petals as well as the ground and himself. Wondering what could have messed the roses so much, he searched his way back to the stairs in the corner of the archway, his slouching accompanied by the sound of the built up fountain in the middle of the yard and the music from inside.
Finally through the labyrinth, he looked out between the arches and over the gloomy lake. Lights were burning in the ship already, their shine glistening eerily on the surface. It was destiny, he thought. That they had met in the Entrance Hall. Had she already returned to her dormitory or was she still hanging around with her friends? However, the longer he thought of her, the more he felt like he wasn’t alone. He rushed around and startled.
Dark eyes stared from a white face, carrying a nondescript expression. The hands were as pale as the face and seemed in an odd position. It took his eyes some seconds to get used to the contrast due to the light from behind the thick corner pillar. He then noticed that the man; covered entirely in black; leaned against the pillar, his arms and legs crossed. After the first shock was gone, Viktor could put up a smile. It was returned, though hesitantly and not very convincing.
“Going to bed already?”, the deep, soft voice spoke.
“Oh yes. I think, I haff enough. Thank you, Sir, by the vay. For letting me join the lesson.”
“Any time. So, you enjoyed it?”
“Oh yes! It vos great! A vonderful ball!”
“And – Miss Granger? Did she enjoy it as well?”
“Uh – I think so? Ve danced to almost every song, Sir, and she grinned all the time – I vos vorried her smile got stuck or something, but I think it vos honest.”, blowing a chuckle through his nose, Snape lowered his head, the smile growing for just a moment, until it almost faded again. “Sir?”, he raised his head on the worried call. “Is – is everything alright?”
“Yes.”, he sighed. “Yes, I am fine.”
“Oh good. For a moment you looked like something – bothers you, Sir. Uh – is there something bothering you? I saw you and Professor Dumbledore talk in a corner. You looked – vot vos that vord? Unnervered?”
Viktor eyed him with even bigger concern about the sad and exhausted look that faced him. Then someone else was coming, eradicating the chance for drilling into unpleasant details. Heavy, hasty footsteps. Moments later, a white rush of fur stormed around a hedge and the sound of his shoes, having been muffled by the snow before, clattered on the stone floor now. Spotting his student, he stopped. Only a second after that, his head rushed to the pillar.
“Still here, Igor?”, Snape sighed bored, not taking his eyes off the Durmstrang champion.
Karkaroff just curled his lips for a while before he stomped past them and downstairs, out of sight. Viktor gazed after his Headmaster with confusion. When he was gone, he looked back at Snape.
“Don’t mind him. He is unsure about how much what he wants differs from what he is capable of, and in addition, not even sure anymore what he actually wants. But one would expect me to be used to it by now. However, I cannot bear to which extent his poise has crumpled towards the level of a hormone-struck teenager.”
“Uh – ?”
“In other words, it is complicated to have him as a friend.”, he gritted his teeth, contorted his then closed lips with them and frowned limply when he huffed through his nostrils. “You like Miss Granger, don’t you?”, his expression was back to empty.
“I – I do, very much.”
“Be careful.”
“Uh – does she bite?”, Viktor raised his thick eyebrows with a chuckle.
“Be careful with her.”, screams of fury echoed down to them from an open window of the Gryffindor common room in the distance. “A little more careful than Ronald Weasley.”, he lightly pushed himself off the pillar and loosened his arms. “Good night.”
“Good night, Sir – ”, Viktor gazed again, now after his billowing cloak and hair until he mingled with the shadows of the archway.
~~#~~
Tears of rage stood in her eyes as she kicked off her shoes into the empty dark dormitory after she had closed the door behind. Knowing she had been the last to leave the room, her anger grew when she realised how cold it was and saw that she had forgotten to close one of the windows. Crying, she pushed up her dress, pulled her wand from a strap she had attached to her right leg and gave the window an upset wave. It fell shut noisily. Then she flicked the wand at the oven. She sighed when another bundle of her hair slid out of the knot. Warm orange light cast upon the room now, she looked around. The stuff of the other girls was as it had been when she had gone downstairs. So was, at the foot of the bed, her own m-
Only muffled by a quick-reaction slap of her hand on her mouth, a shocked shriek escaped her. A black cloak hung over her closed trunk. There. On her bed. Sitting against the head of it. Arms and legs crossed. With his shoes on!
“I have cleaned them.”, he said calm and slow, interpreting the change in her expression right.
“What – ”, she breathed, “What are you doing here, Professor?”
“Sitting on your bed.”, Hermione dropped her shoulders with annoyance, tears still trickling from her eyes.
“What an extremely funny joke, Sir.”, her voice shook though of her bored tone.
“I know.”, the emptiness of his look remained unchanged. “Don’t you hear the whole castle laughing?”
“Why are you here.”
“If you do not favour my company, just say. I will leave immediately.”, Hermione opened her mouth, but couldn’t think of anything to reply. “He’s jealous.”
“Who?”
“Jealous, because he couldn’t gain enough confidence to ask you and – trying to protect you now, as he failed at first instance. What he couldn’t achieve due to his lack, he wants to temper with driving a wedge between you and Mr Krum. However, that shall not bother you. Do what feels right.”
“Are you – are you giving me advices, Sir?”, she murmured. “About – my private life?”
“If you name it so,”
“I – ”, she broke off when he raised from the bed and walked towards her.
“You should loosen your hair, before the effect of whatever you took to make it look like this, wears off. I believe, you won’t be able to untie it otherwise and trust me, most people are appalled when they see a bald girl, especially when they know her hair to have vanished overnight.”
Hermione was literally frozen when he reached out and started to pull the pins and needles from her still sleek hair. Bundle after bundle, it fell down on her shoulders and back, twice as long as naturally. She slightly shivered when he placed the small objects in her hand, closing her fingers around them, although his were warm. Her look trailed down the ornamental silver clasps on his black robe with delicate purple embroidery. She had never seen that robe on him before. Also his hair wasn’t as greasy as usual. The slight waves shimmered silky in the orange light and were a little bit messed which made her understand that he had taken benefit from the already open window. Due to this rather uncommon appearance for him, it felt to her as if he could have been just one of those foreign strangers downstairs.
“How many languages do you speak?”, she asked quietly, straight into his dark eyes, feeling his warm fingers wrapping hers gently.
“I speak Scottish Gaelic, Russian and French fluently, as well as Latin and bits of German.”
“French – I’ve heard that too. You showed some of those Beauxbatons the way to the Ravenclaw Tower the night they arrived. Why did they want to go there? Um – sorry.”, but he seemed to have known already that she had been there. “Where have you learnt French?”
“It had happened to have appeared being useful.”, he plainly said, forcing her to accept that she was not to ask further.
“I didn’t see you dancing tonight, Sir.”, Hermione whispered, listening to a distant, muffled song.
“I preferred making sure that no one took the opportunity of the night and went somewhere they shouldn’t.”, Snape whispered back, causing Hermione to shiver again.
“Would you – like to take – an opportunity, Sir?”
“Pardon?”, the teacher frowned.
“The band’s still playing – and you didn’t have a dance yet – ”
“What makes you think, I’d want to dance?”
“I don’t know – I only thought, you might. So?”
“Are you asking me for a dance, Miss Granger?”, he murmured.
“Then not.”, she dropped her shoulders with a sigh.
The embarrassing silence this brought, was hardly bearable for her. She could hear the song end, but it was too far away for any applause from the people who were still in the hall to reach them. Myron Wagtail announced the absolutely final encore. One last chance, she thought – and could hardly hold back a grin when he told everyone that it was actually the song’s title. It was a slow waltz. Hermione swallowed, staring up into those dark tunnels.
Too surprised to even startle, she found her left fist; still holding the tiny objects; lifted warily to his collarbone and the hand he had done it with, on her back then. The fingers of his left hand wrapped her right, closing the grip around her wand like a complete shell, the thumb softly on the first knuckle of her index finger. Those hands raised as well, he did the first step so secure that she couldn’t have even avoided moving along in the right way if she had meant to resist.
Swaying in the rhythm, Hermione let herself be moved over the floor. Their dance didn’t take in much space, but the slow, steady turns made her sleepy – though in a positive way. Not daring to take her eyes off his so she wouldn’t sink against him, she studied every feature of his pale face in the constant change of light on it as they turned.
Then it happened. Unable to control herself any longer, she leaned closer, her right ear against his chest. Not willing to hear the voices in her head, she locked out her sanity, wanting to remind her that she was just snuggling up to one of her teachers, and especially, the one who was most taboo of all, being the one everyone hated because he hated everyone. Though she knew it wasn’t just as simple as this and therefore concentrated on something that was indeed very simple:
Drumming placidly almost in time to the music, the beating of his heart filled her ear and made her eyes close. Accompanied by it, his chest rose and sank a little with every breath, creating a very own rhythm she had never felt before. Yes, she had cuddled to both her parents’ chests, but that was many years ago and the current situation could just not be compared to that. It made her forget everything, every word of rudeness he had thrown at her or her colleagues – every vitriolic look he had given them, all the detestation he had received in return. For now, he was just human. In fact he was only human. A very flawed human being, but in those current moments, the beast was asleep and not so scary anymore. In fact, very misunderstood, if she thought about it. He was solely a man with a heart that was beating like everyone else’s; breathing like all others.
She could lightly feel his chin resting on her head and wondered whether his eyes were closed as well. Finally catching herself that she thought too much, she shortly curled her lips and then tried to shut any thoughts out again, ignoring the fact that her bare feet became cold even though they still danced around the spot. As slow as the song, his head slid down onto her left shoulder and she knew that he was nothing but human when she noticed that he buried his face in there, his breath remaining calm.
Not knowing why or how she managed to do so, Hermione’s fist searched its way around his neck and pulled him close. He however didn’t make any further move but continuing the steady dance until the end of the song, at which he slowed down even more, coming to halt at last. His hand glided around hers with the wand and carefully pressed it to his free collarbone. Standing in that sort of embrace, time flew past them, unregarded. Only after what felt like days to Hermione, she raised her voice.
“I’m sorry.”, her teacher took a deep breath on the quiet words, lifted his head like she did then and blinked at her in a way she knew that he had indeed had his eyes closed.
“What for?”, he breathed.
“For your mother.”
His lips lightly parted. The next thing she knew was that all the warmth around her was gone, like him, after he had flicked the window open before flying out. All air seemed to be drained from her lungs as the cold flowed inside again. Her still swollen eyes drifted past the oven. Apparently, there had yet been one single breath. It left her when she spotted the cloak. Squinting her eyes, both her arms and shoulders sank as much as her head and she started crying once more.
“What – the hell – where you – thinking!”, she muttered to herself.
Sobbing heavily, she walked over to her bed, dropped the tiny things from her hand as well as her wand on her bedside table and went to the other side where the trunk rested on a broad commode. Just slowly, she pulled up the soft, massive black fabric with purple embroidered seams, her fingers beginning to clutch it while her eyes didn’t really see what was in front of them. Not knowing what she actually did, she lifted her hands, buried her nose in the thick cotton and inhaled. It somehow smelled like the air outside, obviously from flying. Though there was something else. It was – what she had smelled for the past minutes. His smell. And it was so pleasant she hated herself for liking it. Trying to not make her tears trickling into it, she stared blank at the wall and –
The door was opened carefully behind her. Hermione blushed, her eyes gaping with shock. As if a gust of hot wind had hit her face, her tears dried instantly. Listening and blinking, she slightly lowered her hands.
“Hermione?”, it was Parvati Patil’s worried voice. “Are you okay? I – when I came back, I found Ron sitting alone in front of the fire, muttering to it. He’s like he he’s gone mad. Things sounding like he’s trying to convince himself that he’s right about something.”, Hermione snorted. “Was – was that you? That girl who screamed? I could hear it in the Entrance Hall, you know? Have you been fighting?”, she decided not to answer. “Hermione?”, she heard her walking closer. “What are you holding there? Is that – a cloak?”, angry again, she could see the other girl from the corner of her eye, peeking across her bed, seemingly trying to stay in a safety distance just in case. “A bit big, isn’t it?”
“It’s not mine.”, Hermione spoke out loud what should have been obvious.
“Whose is it?”
“Viktor’s.”
“Viktor Krum’s?”, Parvati’s eyes and mouth widened. “He gave you – his cloak?”
“Yes. We went for a walk, so he lent it to me. I will return it tomorrow.”
“Return – honestly?”, Parvati chuckled. “If I was you, I’d defend it like it’s a huge treasure chest filled with gold and diamonds!”
Neither could help laughing. Yes, the thought was indeed surprisingly tempting. But she couldn’t just keep a teacher’s cloak, could she?
~~#~~
Surprised shrieks echoing from between the tattered hedges as the freshly fallen snow was blown from them and onto the girls, who complained even louder about their hairdos being ruined. But why to care? The night was over. No one was there to marvel at anyone’s hair, as French and foreign as it was. He, didn’t bother. And if he had messed up their Headmistress’ mane. Storming between the upset harpies, he marched straight forward back into the castle. Unfortunately the front gate still stood wide open, so he had no excuse to blow it in. He begged for anything to be standing in his way, just to make it explode before he would.
Had he really allowed himself something like that, only to be confronted with his mother? By a nosy teenager brat who knew nothing at all about her? Was this how he was going to be repaid? For everything? Lame, meaningless condolences? And what was that laughter in the hall about? How could anyone possibly laugh when – was that – ?
The laugh had come so unexpected he couldn’t believe his feet had actually stopped upon it to grant his eyes a stare. What did he stare at anyway? At the end of the hall the band was packing and a group of students slowed them down by brazenly talking to them. Didn’t they care about privacy at all? Those students?
But that wasn’t what his eyes had fallen at. It was a yellow dress. Flowing, shining in the sparkling light around, a black ribbon of silk binding it under her chest, thinning at the back and gliding smoothly into the lacing down to her waist. She was standing on the stage, joking with the drummer and the students laughed with them. The drummer’s laugh was rather awkward, but hers – he hadn’t noticed how bright and healing it was, not in all those years he had known her.
As soon as he realised, he felt stupid. How could he not have seen that? When had the pencils gone? Although her haircut was still radically anarchistic, somehow, in that cocoon of patterned cotton dresses, self-knitted stockings and vests, the pigtailed caterpillar had grown to become a golden butterfly – and he had missed it. She had become a woman, but not overnight, had she? Where had he been all that time, not having seen it? The clumsy girl was now a being of a kind of gentleness he hadn’t gotten to find his eyes on in many years. Of all, of everyone he had seen growing up past his nose, he had missed her metamorphosis?
But there was one thing that managed to calm him, as much as it struck him when it hit him: her smile was still the same. When she turned it down to the students, he could still see her as one of them. In spite of standing above them, not only on the stage, but due to being their teacher, she hadn’t drawn a border, hadn’t built up a wall. She was their friend, when no one was. The awareness that it had originally been him to have shown her the possibility of such oddness, was too much for him. He needed to get away. Down in his rooms he would be fine. Away from the world that apparently had pleasure in crushing him anew, every year around Christmas.
“Hey!”
And again he was not in control of his feet. He wanted them so badly to move on, to ignore the call, but he must have stepped into some sort of glue that had hardened while he had stood before the gilded doors. Not enough, his eyes were back on her, and all others on him. The only good thing about the attention was that he could distract himself from it by looking directly at her and nothing else.
“Not tonight, okay?”, she called across the hall. “It’s Christmas!”
“I know the calendar perfectly well, thank you.”, he couldn’t help huffing back.
“You know what I mean, do you?”
“No.”, that was the truth.
“You’re not going to give anyone detention tonight, just because they’re not in bed yet, you hear me?”
“I have no intention of wasting my rare free days with having to take care of ruthless kids in long, frustrating hours in which they won’t learn a thing about life. Especially not since I prefer to spend those days alone, all by myself, without having to listen to annoying – ”
“That is too bad, you know?”, she interrupted him, leisurely putting her hands on her hips in the teenager-like way she still used to.
“What?”
“Because I have no intentions at all either, to let you rot in your tiny chambers, alone, all by yourself,”
“And how do you think you can – ”
“Oh, maybe, if that can charm a little smile onto your grumpy face, I could throw out those ruthless kids here and you come over for a dance?”
“No.”, it surprised him how quick that refusal had left him.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear you,”, she held her hand to her ear in such a childish way that, combined with her pose, it was indeed hard not to drop a chuckle.
“I said,”, he replied clearly speaking, “That is not necessary, as I will go to bed now. Good, night.”
“Oh, no, no, no, no.”, she bossily brandished a finger. “No. You, aren’t going anywhere. They here, will go to bed now.”, expectedly, she earned protest; loudest, from Ginny Weasley, who still stood by Neville Longbottom. “Oh yes, and how. It’s way past your bedtime and I’m sure you all want to be able to identify your Christmas presents as even parcels. And you can’t keep the Sisters nailed to the stage all night. They’re only waiting to be paid and then they’re off anyway. So, goodnight now, you lot. And you, over there, yes, I’m talking to you, grump; I need you right here by my feet for a serious word. Right here, right yesterday already.”
He could have walked off before the murmuring students would have reached him, but he knew it wasn’t worth the following trouble at all. No matter how much he hated his life, he could never hate it as much as to not bother making it worse. So he slouched into the hall, meeting with the upset teenagers, ignoring their loathing stares. They walked by, and were out of his sight. Tomorrow they would remember only what they always remembered: that grouchy old Snape ruined the party by his mere existence. That’s what he could live with. That’s what he was used to.
However, he could not live with the fact that her arms slid down, hanging so gentle again. Up there on the stage, shining in the light, the packing band in the background vanishing into nowhere while the light was only for her, the long side of her hair falling smoothly over her bare shoulder and onto the strapless dress, that calm smile under her rosy cheeks – she looked like an innocent angel and such a powerful goddess at once, yet fragile, probably breaking in the first gust to hit her.
Only a few yards were left between them, but he had to stop walking. She had elegantly withdrawn her wand from a strap that was bound to her right leg and swung it at the gilded doors to shut them behind the flustered students. Now it was only them, the Weird Sisters and the partly messed crystal decoration.
“Now don’t look at me like that,”, she laughed “I won’t jinx you.”
“I think you already did,”, meant the bassist.
“Shut up!”, the chuckle lost none of its cheerful charm when she pointed her wand at him. “Mind what you’re saying or you will end up being jinxed, and trust me, that won’t look pretty, because it won’t be me to do that.”
“Too bad, I wouldn’t have minded being jinxed by you,”
“Would you please help me down and away from those morons?”, she moaned, still with a smirk.
“Any time.”, she was already offered a hand before she had time to take a step forward.
“No, that won’t work, I’m afraid.”
“What. Do you want me to catch you, or what?”, Severus chuckled.
“Maybe? Or have you forgotten how to do that?”
“No. It’s been a while, but no.”
“Great. On three – ”
But she didn’t count, she simply jumped and he was fast enough to hold out his arms for her hips to land on them. Her speed however made him spin and he could just catch himself in last second to not fall over with her. Although he let her down immediately, she didn’t let go of his shoulders, laughing again.
“Thanks for saving the princess from the trolls.”, she grinned quietly and placed a swift kiss on his cheek. “You’re not blushing now, are you?”
“How could I dare to?”, he whispered.
“Shall I ask the trolls to not pack away everything already?”
“You still insist on that dance, don’t you?”
“Of course,”
Not understanding what drove him, he already wanted to ask the band whether they could play a single song for the sake of making her happy, but Wagtail picked up his Chuitar, sat down on the edge of the stage and started to play. Surprisingly, he knew the melody. Or rather, surprisingly to him, Wagtail knew it.
“She told us she’s Muggle-Born and that this was the first gig of a wizarding band she’s been to. I hope you don’t mind, Sir.”
“Don’t worry, he doesn’t mind those insects at all,”
“Although that’s not her name,”, he meant to correct when Wagtail started singing, but she took his hands, her wand now stuck behind her left ear, entangled in the waves.
“D’you really think I give a damn?”, she whispered.
“Clearly not.”, the smile left him before he felt it coming when she pulled him into her swaying.
“Oh wow,”
“What.”
“It’s really been a while since you cracked only a little smile when someone else was around,”
“They don’t need to know that fact, do they?”, Severus whispered back.
“No. But I do wonder, you know? I mean,”, he spun her, “How can you be so depressed?”
“How can I not?”
“Okay, with the Tournament and all, sure, I understand, but it’s got a positive aspect, doesn’t it?”
“If you’re trying to lure me into being happy about seeing Igor again, he’s a pest.”
“Didn’t keep you from letting him live with you, if I have to remind you.”
“Different times, Charity.”, he sighed.
“I wouldn’t say; sure, a lot’s happened since, he’s still the same pest. He hasn’t changed at all, as far as I could see it.”
“And that’s exactly it.”
“Oh wait – it bothers you that nothing might have changed for him? Trust me, the world has changed for him. He’s got more of a current reason to be depressed too. Don’t tell me that scares you.”
“To be honest, it does. I’m not exactly sure whether I’m ready yet for wishing those times back concerning him,”
“I think you are.”, she giggled.
“What?”
“No reason to stop in place, Severus.”, the force she pulled him back into the dance with was incredible. “I can see how you’re looking at him. You need more than one friend. That doesn’t mean I’m sick of our man-to-man-talks, but wouldn’t they be better off with a guy?”
“And you don’t tell me you’re thinking of him to be the right one for such.”, Severus huffed. “You can’t be serious.”
“Okay, he’s probably not the right one for that, but don’t you think you should tell him that he’s got no need to feel ashamed? I mean, as far as I got that, according to you, he did nothing wrong. Why don’t you tell him that he doesn’t need to wait for you to forgive him?”
“That is a bad idea.”
“Honestly?”, she chuckled disbelievingly.
“Yes. Because I already told him that I’ve forgiven him.”
“What? Why!”
“Because he wouldn’t understand the truth.”
“And you think that because?”
“Because I know him. Much better than you do.”
“Sure, you can see how he’s pleading to spend some time with you?”
“He’s pleading for something else. He wants me to tell him that he’s not scared for nothing.”
“No, I think, your marks are only his excuse to get your attention because he’s too shy to tell you he needs a friend. So he comes with business, in hope you get his intention.”
“Do we really have to talk about him now?”, Severus moaned, still quiet.
“What else should we talk about? My aching feet because these shoes are fucking horror? Or about how I can possibly get out of that dress, now that Bathsy’s decided to get drunk in the teachers’ cabinet with Pommy and Rols and that I have no idea who else to ask as I don’t really want to try ripping and repairing it or how I could get my crazy shower to work properly again – ”
“I could try tricking Peeves into a deal in return for removing whatever’s blocking your shower, while you use mine? And it wouldn’t be my first time to help you out of a dress.”
“Oh yes, but you know, it didn’t help me much that you tried to convince them you figured the code yourself or that you had long hair.”
“I still have long hair and that particular excuse was yours. And we’re both teachers now, with their own rooms and no need to apologise to upset Hufflepuff girls, no matter what colour that uncomfortably stunning dress of yours is. Would you accept my help if I top it with the offer to burn those shoes of fucking horror, as you call them?”
“That would be a grand idea.”, Charity shortly laughed and let her head sink to his chest. “You help me out of the dress in candlelight, watched by the Giant Squid and its naughty imagination, then I abuse your shower while you burn my shoes and bribe Peeves and then you come back to lend me one of those oversized grey sacks of yours, because I’ll probably be too tired to even let myself be flown back up to my own bed by you.”
“Agreed.”, Severus smiled and held her slightly closer. “As long as you don’t invite the Squid while I’m away for Peeves,”
“I need neither pervert.”, she chuckled flatly. “You’re sure however, that you want me in your bed?”
“Wouldn’t be a first,”
“I know, I know. But what if I’m snoring again?”
“I survived every single time.”
“Are you really so lonely that you tolerate a snoring badger?”
“I won’t comment – ”
“Ah! I was certain you wouldn’t leave without payment!”
Charity startled up terribly at the beaming voice, nearly crashing her head into his chin and Wagtail broke off before he could play the last notes of the third song. They hadn’t heard him opening one of the door’s wings, nor seen the movement.
“But whom are you still so eager to play for?”, Charity took her annoyed look off him and moved her eyes up to Severus’, which did nothing but mirror her instant mood. “Tell me my eyes are fooling me! Can this be real?”
“Can this get any worse?”, mumbled Charity.
“Shall I try to keep his damage as low a possible?”, Severus asked.
“Try your luck,”
“Well,”, he said to Wagtail, “I guess, you just got a little closer to your well deserved sleep. Thank you, and have a good night, all of you.”
“No problem. Glad I could help out. Merry Christmas.”, he briefly and lazily saluted and got up to securely store his instrument at last.
“Merry Christmas.”, said Charity as well and waved back to them when she and Severus mutually laid their arms around each other’s shoulders and turned to leave.
“Did I miss something?”
“Oh yes, you missed a lot, Albus.”, Minerva behind him said. “Like for example that you shouldn’t comment anything Severus does, with cheerful disbelief.”
“As much as I appreciate your sympathy for him, Minny, I’d prefer if you wouldn’t give him such advices while either I or even Severus can hear you. And yes, you missed the ultimate climax of the party by such a narrow inch that you just scraped it enough to make it collapse entirely.”
“I – ”
“Save your breath, old man.”, Charity continued conceited when they passed the two who squeezed themselves to the door although the gap was big enough for five more people to be standing there. “And keep your graspers to yourself tonight. It’s Christmas. That is a holy feast. Be respectful while Severus and I are going to shag the hell out of this castle.”
He was exceptionally glad that they both could hold back their laughing until they reached the bottom of the spiral staircase. Still arm in arm, Severus finally returned a kiss on her cheek, but much firmer than hers had been.
“Thank you.”, he grinned. “Thank you so, so much.”
“I just hope – ”, Charity had a hard time finding breath, “It was – bizarre enough – he doesn’t actually believe – ”
“His look was bizarre enough though.”
“I couldn’t – see you turning your head?”
“He mirrored in one of those fake icicles in the Entrance Hall. I only needed a glimpse. Wouldn’t have been able to bear more”
“Oh goodness. I’m so glad no one else was around. Imagine the rumours that could grow on that silly nonsense.”
“What?”, Severus stopped and gazed at her. “You didn’t mean that?”
“Er – ”, it hurt to see her grin freeze with her step, but he just had felt the need. “I – Severus!”, even the little slap she gave his head was worth it.
“Sorry.”, he squinted and grinned to the floor.
“No.”, he looked back up to find one of those gentle smiles on her face again. “It actually means the world to me to see you capable of joking. It does you really good and I love how even a faint smile suits you much better than a bucket full of bittersweet sadness.”
~~#~~
Kommentar schreiben