What Have I Done?

I realized, while travelling out of town, that the first chapter of this story had a soundtrack. The song? Crashed by Daughtry.

I want to thank EVERYONE who reviews. It makes letting my character run rampant on the page worth it.


Disclaimer: Harry Potter is owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Severus glowered down at the trembling boy whose caldron had just melted, again. Neville Longbottom, he swore, had been sent to punish him for every sin he’d ever contemplated acting on. He ground out a fitting insult, spelled the mess away, added yet another failing grade to Longbottom’s dismal record, and shot a look at Saint Potter daring him to speak up. As if teaching dunderheads like Longbottom and Potter weren’t enough, he thought, moving to sit at his desk, he’d caught two seventh years passing notes about his despicable acts against Larentia.

Waiting for her to wake up was unbearable. He wanted to see her flashing green eyes lock on his, wanted to hear her say his name. A part of him wanted her awake to prove the gossips wrong. Surely, after Lupin’s attack, she wouldn’t be looking so favorably on the werewolf. For once, instead of one of the Marauders coming out on top, Severus Snape would win a round.

Class ended without further accident. He watched as the students filed out, waiting until he heard no sounds coming from the dungeon hallway. He walked out, looking around the empty corridor, and started for the Hospital. It was lunchtime, and he’d been stopping in daily to see Larentia during this time. He glared at two loitering students outside the doors to the infirmary, causing them to scuttle away toward the Great Hall. He was sure he heard one whispering about him returning to the scene of the crime. Dimwits, he thought opening the door, the scene of the crime was Larentia’s rooms, not the Hospital.

He looked toward her bed and stopped in shock. There, sitting up and reading, was Larentia. Her hair a fiery mess of curls around her head and her skin even paler from lack of exercise and sun, she was a vision. He schooled his features back to one of indifference, not wanting to give any student poking around more ammo for the rumor mill. Inside he was smiling, well smirking since he wasn’t really a smiler. She was awake.

“Are you simply going to stand there and stare at me, or are you going to come over here and say hello?” She asked, not looking up from her book. His inner smirk widened. She was awake and definitely not infirm in anyway mentally.

“Hello, Professor.” He said, walking toward her bed. A cloak was laying across the foot and he wondered if she’d be leaving the ward already.

“Hello,” she said, looking up at him with those golden green eyes. His body stirred and he had to threaten himself into calming down. Gods, man, she’s only just woken up. “Sit down, Professor Snape.” She motioned toward the chair to her right.

He sat down and tried hard not to stare at her. It had only been a week, but it seemed longer. Her gown was open at the neck and he could see the dark purple edge of a bruise on her chest. The only visible evidence of a reason for her being in the hospital bed. She sat the book down beside her after marking her page. She was staring at him, her eyes practically burning his skin. Before they could say anything, Madame Pomfrey bustled up.

“Ah, good, Professor Snape.” She said, helping Larentia to her feet. “I’m glad you’re here. Professor Dorrington needs to take a walk and I’ve just been sent word that half of the third year Charm’s class is on their way down. Apparently a Cheering Charm gone wrong.” She was handing him the cloak from the foot of the bed. “If you’ll just walk along with her, don’t go too far or too fast, she needs a bit of fresh air and exercise.” She turned away and busied in one of her cabinets with bottles and bandages.

Larentia smiled up at him and gave a little shrug. “I suppose you’re taking me for a walk.” She said, reaching for her cloak. He stopped her from taking it. Swirling it around her, he fastened the top clasp before she knew what he was doing.

“I suppose I am,” his voice sounded husky to his ears. He offered her his arm and felt the smirk return as her hand settled into the crook. How perfect, he thought. Time alone with her, time to talk and get to know her better. Another part of him contemplated a secluded place and pushing clothes aside for a quick tumble, but he beat it down. She was still recovering, after all.

They left the Hospital and took the first exit out to the grounds. It was a lovely day, not too cool and the sun was shining. They walked toward the lake, taking advantage of the day that the students didn’t appear to appreciate. The silence was comfortable, as though they walked the grounds together often, but both had an urge to talk.

“I wanted to thank you for the lavender,” she said, breaking the silence. “It’s one of my favorite scents.”

“One of your favorites?” He asked, wanting to know the other smells she appreciated.

She smiled, looking out at the softly rippling lake. “Well, I like lavender, it’s the easiest to find and use, for personal uses. Another is sandalwood,” she stopped, turning to look at him.

Sandalwood, he thought, it was his personal favorite. He used it instead of the rancid colognes that most wizards seemed to douse themselves in. She liked how he smelled, the smirk was growing again.

“Are there more?” He asked, holding her gaze.

“Cauldrons, the smell you carry away from a caldron is wonderful.” She whispered, losing herself in his black eyes.

This time the smirk fell to his lips. She was flirting with him. “What’s your favorite scent?”

Her smile widened this time and he wondered how far the flirting would go. Her answer, however, wasn’t what he expected. “Honeysuckle. When I taught in the US, I’d summer in the south, the smell of honeysuckle on the heavy hot air was absolute heaven. It’s a smell you can’t fake, there’s no artificial replacement for it.” She sighed and returned her gaze to the lake. Severus found himself wanting nothing more than to capture the smell of honeysuckle for her. “What about you, Severus? What smells attract your notice?” She asked, dropping the formal act.

He consider her question. Until a month ago, he’d have said sandalwood, caldrons, and the musk of the dungeons, and another, sweeter smell he only thought of every other moment. That was before the scent of lavender became forever connected to the witch beside him. The thought shook him. It had been so long since he considered what smells Amortentia would take for him. Before it had always been Lily that came to mind when he brewed it as an example for NEWT level students. He looked down at Larentia and knew that it would still have a hint of Lily, but now lavender would be the main scent.

“I suppose,” he said, considering whether telling the truth would cost him more than he was willing to pay. He turned back toward the lake. “I rather enjoy lavender.”

A small smile played on Larentia’s lips. So the dour Potions Master was willing to open up a bit. She considered asking him a million questions, all very personal, but wasn’t given the opportunity because he spoke first.

“You’re always reading,” he stated. “What exactly do you have your nose buried in?” Even getting to know her, he couldn’t temper his own sarcastic, caustic self.

“They’re called books, Severus.” She teased. Before he could retort she answered. “Usually they’re historically based books. I do, however, read more than texts for class. I’ve read plenty of Muggle books on magic, they’re fascinating. Some come very close to the truth, but then some glaring falsehood pokes through. Mostly I just enjoy learning. I feel like I can never know too much.”

He glanced at her and wasn’t too surprised to see how animated she became while talking about books. Her rooms alone were a testament to how she felt about reading. Her face was alight with excitement and he wanted to capture the moment. She truly was a Ravenclaw through and through.

“You’re a stereotype,” he offered, none of his usual venom present. She grinned up at him and nodded.

“I am, the sorting hat truly did well when sorting me.” She turned back to the lake and a shiver passed over her.

“Are you cold?” He asked, not wanting their time to end, but not wanting her to slip back into illness. “We could start back.”

“It’s just,” she started, keeping her eyes on the lapping water. “I spoke to Albus earlier.”

Severus’ heart clenched. Of course, oft meddling Dumbledore came to give his input into the situation. Probably told her to steer clear of him, he thought, easier to keep my mind on my dual roles. He waited for her to continue, steeling himself for her rejection.

“He’s my godfather, Albus. When my mother died, I was only ten, Albus became a confidant. I’ve never had a secret from him. Ever.” She sighed and hazarded a glance at Severus’ rigid features. “I told him about us, about our being intimate. He advised me to chose, said it was unfair to both you and Remus to carry on like this.”

She returned her gaze to the water, letting its rhythm calm her before continuing. “I told him I wasn’t sure I could chose.”

Severus couldn’t believe his ears. She wasn’t rejecting him, spurning his presence in her world. She wasn’t ending it with Remus either, from the sound of it. One worry at a time, he thought soothing his nerves. At least she wasn’t shutting him down.

“I agree with Albus,” he started, causing her to turn toward him. “There can’t be three people in a relationship like this. However,” she bit her lip, listening. “I won’t be forcing you to make that choice just yet. I want,” he was about to tell her just what he wanted when a voice called out interrupting.

“There you are!” Remus’ voice carried from higher up the bank. He hurried down to Larentia. “I’ve just learned you were awake.” He shot a look at Severus as he took her hand. “I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

Severus was poised to tell him just what he was interrupting, but Larentia shook her head. “We were just talking. Severus was good enough to bring me on my walk.” She reached out and took his arm with her free hand. “We were just going back, weren’t we?” She asked, looking deeply into his eyes and pleading with him silently to let it stand for now.

“Yes, Larentia was catching a chill.” Severus answered smoothly. He started walking with her, forcing Remus to walk along or let go of her hand. He took shorter steps, allowing for Larentia’s short frame. Her hand on his arm reminded him that she wasn’t lost to him yet, but Remus’ present kept the choice she needed to make firmly in the forefront. Don’t get used to holding that hand, pup, Severus thought.

The trio made their way back to the Hospital without incident, in a strained silence. Severus noted the time and made his excuses. He still needed to grab a bite to eat before his next class. He made a show of kissing her knuckles before leaving with a promise of returning the next day for another walk. Then he left in a billowing of robes.

“Greasy, hook-nosed bat,” Remus muttered at his retreating back.

“Excuse me,” Larentia said, giving him a reproachful look. “I hardly think that’s called for, Remus.”

She removed her cloak and settled back into bed, tired from her exercise. Looking at Remus, she noticed how worn he looked. Obviously her condition hadn’t been easy on him, and she found herself thinking that was a good thing. He made a horrible mistake, and while she was happy that he wasn’t being punished by the Ministry she could hardly condone him living with a guiltless conscience. He could have done far more damage than just rendering her unconscious. What if he’d killed Severus?

“Tia,” he whispered, taking her hand again. “I’m so sorry.”

“As you well should be,” she said, but didn’t take her hand back. “I understand that you were angry, Remus. I even understand why you were angry. Drawing two wands on an unarmed wizard, however, was completely uncalled for.”

“If I could go back and change things,” he offered, his thumb smoothing along the skin of her fingers.

“You can’t, Remus, none of us can.” She squeezed his hand. “I forgive you, honestly I do. I talked to Albus earlier. I know I didn’t tell you before, but he’s my godfather. He probably knows me better than anyone.” She stopped, taking a breath and gathering strength. “He told me I have to choose between you and Severus. He reminded me how unfair I was being, putting you both in that situation.”

Remus broke in, “It’s over, we can just go back to how we were before you and Severus...”

Larentia cut him off with a look. “Remus, I-I’m not ready to chose.” He dropped her hand like it burned him. “I wish I could say ‘fine let’s go back to the way things were’, but I can’t. Whatever Severus and I have, it’s not simple or something I’m ready to turn my back on.”

“You’re in love with him,” he accused.

She shook her head. “I’m not sure I am. I just know I can’t choose yet. Please, just give me some time.”

“Time,” he repeated, twisting his mouth as though he tasted something foul. “You need time to decide between me and that-“ he stopped, searching for a word to describe what a waste of humanity Snape was.

Larentia looked down at her hands, now clasped in her lap. “I know I have no right to ask you to wait for me, so I won’t. I just can’t turn my back on Severus, not right now.”

Remus stood, his hand itching for his wand and a few moments alone with Snape. He looked down at Larentia, and for the first time he wondered if she were worth it. Shaking off that thought, he bent his head and dropped a chaste kiss on her cheek. He’d give her time, time to realize how good they were together. She’d choose him, he was certain, she just needed to get the slimy git out of her system. And when it was all said in done, she’d be his.

He turned and strode out of the Hospital. She’d be his and Snape would be alone, as it should be.