Three is a Magic Number

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“I’m still having trouble believing she got sorted into Gryffindor, but other than that . . .”
“Well, Severus, she is my daughter after all.” Severus was silent for a period.
“Cliodna, her looks are those of her father, as is her mind. How is it she is in your old house?”
“I’ve yet to guess.” A robe-clad figure passed into the Great Hall. “Ah, daughter mine. How are you?” The girl stopped a few feet away from them, and her gaze was fixed on her cousin. Shock, bewilderment, and most prevalently, grief passed over her face.
“I’ve been better, mother. I’ve been better.” The grace of her speech was a natural defense learned at an early age, as was the coldness creeping into her eyes.
“Your cousin, Severus Snape.” The grace with which Cliodna acknowledged her cousin-in-law was nearly flawless, as was practically everything about her. The girl, not knowing whlse lse to do, curtsied.
“Professor.” There was a tensity to the moment that not a one of them could put a finger near, let alone on.
“Well, Cassiopeia, it is an honor to finally meet you. You look a good deal like your father.”
“Sir, forgive me, but I have been told that many times and have yet to see it.” How can she not? She is practically Procyon’s doppleganger!
“You will see it in time. Excuse me.” with that, the man who looked more like her father than Cassiopeia did left the hall.

Severus Snape had retired to his dungeons an hour earlier. He was quite, no, very drunk. Seeing that girl had given him the shock of his young life. The girl looked like his beloved ‘cousin’. The one person at Hogwarts who actually had understood him. His eyes rested in his face, just as his hair refused to give in to order, just as his bearing as he walked was undoubtably royal. But it was on a female body, and his words came from a female voice. He looked at the bottle of brandy he’d opened. Half of the liquor it had held was gone. It was at times like this that he cursed the Snape tolerance for alcohol. Damn. So much of the man he had loved in that girl. How could he face her in class? The accident came back to his mind. It was a horrible memory. He’d been dead the minute the car had hit the wall. But why him? It’s the why of it that makes the whole thing damnable. Why my gentle cousin? Why mar his child so young? The bitterness in her voice as she dismissed the likeness. Why so young and already bitter? He downed another glass of brandy. Why? A beautiful cut crystal brandy snifter shattered against the wall.

* Draco caressed Harry’s cheek ever so gently as their breath mingled, breath that came heavily, almost in short bursts. Expectant, heated, and above all, desirous. “Harry . . .” Draco trailed off, not wanting to shatter the perfection of the moment. Their lips met, and the desire which had been denied all those long days rushed through the pair, and they clung to each other desperately, as a child does during a thunderstorm to their mother. As if in a silent, binding pact, the two promised each other through that kiss that no matter what happened, they knew what they truly felt, and who they really were. They promised each other never to forget.*

Harry Potter woke up, the telltale signs of an incredibly arousing dream now staining his boxers. Was it a premonition? God, he hoped so. That was too real, too vivid, and made him too damn hot to not be. He’d had wet dreams before, but this. . . Never mind before. That was all over now. It had all faded into insignificance. That girl. She’d been at Hogwarts a week and already she was known school-wide. It was hard not to be when you were that flamboyant. The problem was, that she was unknowingly so. It wasn’t her fault that she practically oozed charisma. If they hated her or adored her, it didn’t matter. Everyone at Hogwarts knew who Casi Snape-Montgomery was. While mulling this over, Harry got into a new pair of boxers, and almost as if he had planned it, got dressed. He had an impulse to do something he’d never done, let alone thought of before. He had an inkling to sneak into the Seventh year girls’ dormitory.

Having donned the invisibility cloak he’d inherited, he walked through the midnight blackness to a door that bore the plaque stating “Seventh Years”. He gingerly opened it. There were four beds in the dormitory, and each had a bedside table. Except for the makeup and other girly stuff, it’s exactly likes. Hs. Harry knew immediately which bed to go to, more by the fact that Casi was the only girl not laying down on her bed with the curtains pulled around it. She was sitting stock-still on her bed, cross-legged, and looking straight at where Harry was standing. “Evening, Mr. Potter.” Harry whipped off the cloak, furiously thinking. How the hell did she- of course. ~You little minx, what else do you see in here, huh?~ Very much to Harry’s surprise, the girl recoiled as if burned. “Please. You mistake my mea com completely. I’m only trying to help.” She was crying . . .? Harry couldn’t tell.
“I’m sorry, I just-”
“I know. You think the same way nearly every Gryffindor does. ‘She’s Snape’s cousin. No telling what she’ll pull.’ No one trusts me. Now, why is it you’re here?” she patted the place on the bed next to her.
“I’m having some trouble.” Harry sat.
“Why not have Ron help you?”
“You tell me, mind-reader.” The girl’s face contorted into something like suspicion. Harry recognized it as Snape’s calculating ‘SURE-you-were-only-wanting-to-see-how-it-worked’ look. “I’m serious. I won’t think anythingty aty at you this time. Anything I should do?”
“Relax, breathe, pretend I’m Oprah.” Harry felt a gentle wave of relaxation come over him as she searched his m The Then, BINGO. There it was. The passion, the fire. Harry felt the all-too-familiar jerk in his manhood as she mentally let go of him. “I think it’s safe to you’you’ve got it bad.” She looked down. “But before I take you to square one, go take care of that.”
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