Meddling

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[Another uneventful day teaching. Hmm, that used to mean no explosions or melted cauldrons. And now I’m thankful that I haven’t been molested in the corridors. Strange strange world, to think I used to dream of women throwing themselves at me… oh fuck, way to jinx yourself Sev]

A fairly nondescript woman smiled shyly as she rose from where she had been sitting in one of the armchairs by the fire in his office. She must have been there for some time already as she had obviously started out sitting in the visitors chair before realising how low and uncomfortable it was. Another little trick he had learnt from his dear mother, along with the ability to be constantly sarcastic without seeming abusive of the right to do so. He straightened the visitors chair and swooped behind his desk, doing his best to look imposing as he sat down.

‘Can I help you? Is there a reason you’re in my office?’

The woman stretched her thin lips into something close to a grin

‘I’m in your office because your quarters are too heavily warded.’ She raised a placating hand at Snape’s outraged expression. ‘You can help my by going to visit your mother. She sent me as you haven’t answered any of her letters, and you know she doesn’t like being ignored.’

Snape laughed mirthlessly.

‘So very true. And I do believe that if you wish to check, my mothers letters are no doubt in here.’ He opened a door set in the wall of his office. From the outside it looked like it went into a small storage cupboard, but the inside had been magically enlarged to hold an enormous quantity of envelopes. ‘My mail has been slightly confusing these days, and I like to check that I don’t destroy any missives of actual importance along with the chaff, so I’m a touch behind contacting anyone who has written to me.’

The woman laughed and moved closer to look inside. Yards upon yards upon yards of coloured paper rose to meet her, the multitude of perfumes mixing together to create a far less pleasing aroma when one got too close to the wards that held the flood of messages within the room. She sneezed and smiled apologetically, reaching out to touch his hand where it sat on the doorknob.

‘I believe you, I don’t think it will be necessary to check all these.’

Severus whipped back his hand as though stung and glared at the short, mousy woman in front of him.

‘Has my mother specified a time for me to meet with her? Or am I just going to get another of these wonderful surprise visits sometime when she’s bored?’

‘Oh, you might. But how about a nice little social call right about now?’

‘Can’t she meet me for a meal at Hogsmede or Diagon Alley sometime? Or does she not like angry mobs?’ Severus groaned internally at the thought of having to Floo again as he turned around. And yelped in surprise as he came chest to face with Isobella.

‘Gods woman, what do you think you’re doing?’

‘Severus my dear, that wasn’t at all polite. I came to visit Dumbledore and thought I’d stop in and say hello.’

‘And the glamour?’ he sneered, going back to his desk. A large bottle of red ink and a Second year’s essay might distract him.

‘Surely you don’t begrudge me a little fun darling?’ Obviously he did, trimming his quill so fiercely he sliced his index finger.

‘Oh, my poor baby. Let me look.’ Despite protests she wrenched his finger from his mouth where he had been sucking on the wound. ‘Ooh, that looks deep. Shall I go get the Mediwitch darling?’ she was purring sympathetically, delighted at the chance to fuss over him and be the center of attention just alittle longer.

‘NO Mother, that won’t be necessary. Anything Poppy could do for me I could do for myself, and it’s stopped bleeding anyway. It’s hy a y a scratch.’

Isobella snatched his hand again and examined his finger carefully.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?! Who is she, you have to introduce us immediately! Does she work here too? Or is it someone new you’ve met?’

Severus stared at her blankly, wondering if it was possible for someone to overdose on cups of tea.

‘Ooooh, it’s a man isn’t it? Of course! We’ll have to do brunch on the weekend. I knew this would turn out for the best.’ Isobella smiled and gave her son an uncharacteristic hug. She hadn’t hugged him since he was 11, on day he boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time. Of course, she hadn’t done it in view of any of the other students or their parents. That might have been considered emotion, and he’d been ded fed from a young age that emotion was weakness, a weapon to use against others. He irritably pulled away, it had been too long and this little display was awkward and uncomfortable.

‘What are you nattering on about woman? Have you replaced your senses with schnapps?’

Isobella blinked at him slowly, a genuine smile curving across her lips.

‘Why Severus my dear, you’ve obviously met your soulmate.’

Severus raised an eyebrow skeptically.

‘Have you been admitted to St Mungo’s s I l I last checked? If not, you should consider going in for an examination. Soon.’

‘Tsk tsk, I thought you knew everything dear boy. This’ she waved his injured hand in his face, ‘this was quite a deep cut, and now it just looks like a cat scratched you over a week ago. Tell me, has you skin been feeling all tingly lately? Your sight or sense of smell improved? Been sleeping better then usual?’

Severus recalled the previous night all too clearly.

‘Why, what’s going on?’

‘It means you’re a true Pureblood’ she clapped her hands in excitement, ‘and that you’ve met the one you’re destined to be with. If you think it all feels good now, wait until the sex! It’s supposed to be amazing.’ She cackled heartily. ‘Oh this is wonderful, who is it?’

Severus growled, deep in the back of his throat.

‘I don’t have the faintest idea of what you’re talking about. What do you mean I’ve met my soulmate? I haven’t met anyone new for over a week and this… thing, only started yesterday.’

‘Hmm, so you’re not seeing anyone yet? Oh well, time will tell. It doesn’t have to be someone new, it might be someone you’ve known all your life, but the time wasn’t right until now. It used to happen to all wizards and witches, back in the Beginning, but over time the bloodlines got mixed with Muggles and half-breeds and it became rarer and rarer.’

Severus didn’t hear most of what she said, he was too busy feeling violently ill. It had started after the little run-in with the two fools in the corridor, before that he had been alone here in the office until it became time enough for his rounds.

‘I hope you’re not suggesting it is a staff member here? Or a student??’

‘Could be my dear, could be. But knowing you, not likely… maybe they wrote one of those lovely letters you showe.’
.’

‘I do my best to avoid even touching the infernal things, let alone reading them. Surely it’s not possible that merely being in the same room as a piece of paper could cause this?’

‘If you haven’t read them, then I guess not… have you read ANY of them recently? Or from any old friends?’

Severus’s eyes widened and he fo the the instinct to swallow, knowing it would make him look nervous and sickly and she would pounce on it. He had completely forgotten about the third letter. He nodded his way though the rest of the conversation and managed to get her to leave by promising to meet for brunch the next Hogsmede Saturday. As soon as the clicking of her boot heels had faded he threw caution to the winds and the contents of his desk with it. Essays and exams and timetables fluttered to the floor until he finally found the pristine white envelope under an old text he was revising.

The fire here in the office had gone out and he had gone over to check it in case something was wrong before re-lighting it. Normally it was something the house-elves did, as if it ever did dow down, it was always stoked high when he came in in the morning. Sitting in the bottom of the grate was another envelope, spellbound so as not to burn or stain or move without aid of a human hand. It had been sitting in the middle of a roaring fire for years and was still cool to the touch. He had opened it, but before he had drawn the parchment fully out, the clock had struck 11 and it was time for rounds. Never let it be said he did not do his duty. The letter had been left hurriedly on his desk and he had swooped out to have one of the most awful experiences of his life. And as a former Death-Eater, that was saying something.

His hands trembled as he slid the note from its confines. Heat suffused his body, starting at the tips of the fingers that touched the parchment and sending tingling waves up his arms. Normally he would be uncomfortable at anything close to the temperature he was experiencing now, but somehow it felt warm and comforting, like being wrapped in a thick doona on a frosty Christmas morning. He spelled his door shut and started to read.

Hello there love

I thought I’d give the poetry a rest tonight. I had the most amazing dream earlier and it just keeps playing over and over in my head, I can’t think about anything else. Just you. If I write it down, if I can hold the words in my hand, maybe I’ll be able to clear my mind for the first time in months. Maybe get some sleep. Maybe have another amazing dream a you you. Maybe wake up actually rested for a change. Who am I kidding? Every night I dream of you, and every day I watch, and fantasize, and dream some more. I may not sleep well some nights, but then I see you- stalking the halls, brooding at the high table, towering over a class and I breathe in your presence. My heart jolts in my chest and my lungs feel like I’ve just inhaled snowy mountain air and it’s as if I’ve been reborn. It’s as though I could live off merely being in the same room as you. And maybe alittle chocolate body paint… which brings me back full circle. My dream.

It starts off simple enough. I’m walking around the lake at twilight. I can see just fine, it’s only dark enough to shade the edges of things. I’m on my own when you come staggering out from the forest, black robes torn and glistening with blood. Of course, I run to help you, putting your arm around my shoulder to keep you upright. You refuse to let me take you to the hospital wing and instead show me a secret passage that runs from the edge of the lake by the cliffs under the castle and into the dungeons.

We end up in your rooms and you sit by the fire. I carefully peel your robes away from your body, sponging away the blood to reveal a lattice of gashes and cuts covering your back and arms. There are much deeper ones on your chest, not meant to kill, just to weaken and cause pain.

You instruct me to fetch you a healing draught from the cupboard and I do so. As you drink it I am overcome with the need to comfort you and I stroke your bare shoulder, pressing a careful kiss to the damaged flesh. When I sit back, I notice that the skin there is perfect, no sign of it having ever been cut. Wonderingly I press my lips to a deep laceration over your shoulder blades. It too disappears. You turn to look at me and I kiss gas gash on your chest. You stare open-mouthed and I close the gap between us and press our lips together. Alittle of your blood is salty on my tongue and I swallow eagerly.

Slowly you kiss me back, crushing me tight against you. You stroke my hair. Somehow we end up making love there on the carpets. Your mouth is remarkable against my skin, covering my body in hungry kisses that leave me quivering beneath you. Your teeth against my breasts as you plunge into me again and again… Utopia is built on feelings like this. Your hands, with those nimble fingers I have admired so often during class are everywhere, driving me


Severus tore his eyes from the page, breathing heavily. The previously cozy warmth that had filled him was now a burning desire. The paper felt like molten lead wrapped around his fingers, which filled his veins burning white fire through his body to pool in his groin.

[At least now I know these are from a woman, that’s somesolasolation…]

A muffled banging pulled his attention from the whirlpool in his mind. Someone was outside, had been for some time judging from the shouts. The letter went into a drawer and he arranged his robes to hide the effect it had had on him before he released the door. As usual, duty called, and most persistently.

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