#severuss

Although Voldemort didn’t have emotions, his followers often did. They joined for a number of reasons - family, the want of power, the feeling of helpness, the need for guidance, being bullied by muggles, or even just because their loved ones were threatened. It wasn’t as black and white as the Ministry tried to make it appear. They just had chosen the wrong leader. a bloodthirsty one. Your poor Lucius, he’d come to you after the meetings, would sit quietly in the dark room that was your salon, gazing at the fire, which was the only lightsource he would approve of. He hated when you saw him looking weak, so he stayed in the shadows.

But you joined him either way. If he came here, he was looking to not be alone. So you weren’t going to let him. You say beside him on your couch, sinking into the leather fabric, it feeling cool against your back. Lucius’s long blonde hair was tied into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, trailing down his shoulders. He was leaning forward, hands rubbing at his face. You lightly started to touch his shoulder, making circles with your fingers against the thick fabric of his coat.

“Lucius...” You said, slowly. “I know what you’re facing is hard. I can’t even imagine-”

“Because you were smart enough not to get yourself into this mess,” He cut in.

“What do you think I’m doing here, with you?” You asked, teasingly. You pushed some of the looser hairs out of the way, it was bunching against his face, creating a sort of draping effect that hid his pale skin. “Talk to me, L. I’m here. I’m ready to share the burden.”

It was a heavy weight to bear. But he gave it to you freely, knowing that you can handle it. You didn’t interrupt. You let him speak. The stress that was on his shoulders. The way that he felt like everyone was talking about him behind his back. At the Ministry, in his social circles. He was losing everything because Voldemort was losing. He had just been a stupid teenager when he had signed up for this in the first place. Full of resentment at the world and a haughty sense of self because he was a Slytherin with family money. He had believed he could do anything. Live through everything. But people were dying. Cedric Diggory had been killed at Hogwarts, under Dumbledore’s nose. What about his own son? How was he supposed to make it through? Even when this was over, the Malfoy name would carry a curse, a bad taste in the mouth.

You waited for him to let it all out before you finally said something. “But you’re not as alone as you think. You have Draco. You have Narcissa. I know there’s not much love between you two but - you’re still in this together. She’s still standing by your side. And you have me. No matter what happens. That’s three people, that will try to lift you back up whenever you fall. Please try to remember that Lucius. The sun will always rise again.”

He rested his head on your shoulder in an act of unbridled vulnerability. You kissed those white locks tenderly, and let him be there as long as he needed. As long as he wanted.

Severus still had nightmares about the night that he had walked into the Potter home. The way that he had seen his childhood foe spread out near the stairs. He had once thought that he would have felt good about that. But he didn’t. There was a sinking feeling deep inside of him, because if James was dead then - Lily. That was where the nightmares centered. On him holding Lily, the woman that he had loved. The only person that he thought that he would love - until you.

On the nights when this came back to him, he would always get out of bed as quietly as he could muster, trying not to wake you. But you were a light sleeper. You could feel the cold as soon as he departed bed. It woke you up every time. “You okay, love?” You asked, your voice heavy with tiredness.

He never could get over how understanding that you were. Anyone else would have yelled at him for waking them up at - three o’clock in the morning, as his clock was telling him. But not you. He turned around to face you, a black shadow in a dark room. You had grabbed at your wand, had muttered Lumos so that a pale light started to fill up the space, exposing the bags under his eyes. And the tears that were threatening to fall. “Come back to bed, Sev. Come lay with me,” You invited.

He accepted it. He had thought about going for a walk but now he felt so tired again, that his feet wouldn’t be able to carry him to the door. He collapsed in beside you, and was too weak to fight at the tears anymore. You cradled his head with your hands, pulling it to his chest, and he clutched at your arm with his very pale fingers. They were white-knuckling, but you didn’t complain.

“It’s in the past. And it was never your fault. You’re going to forgive yourself one of these days, sweetheart. You’re going to have to,” You muttered softly, taking in the smell of his hair. It smelled of the soap used on the laundry.

“I don’t know-” Severus said the words that he never said to anyone ever. He always knew. But not now. His guard was completely down. He was breaking down. “I can’t-”

“You can, and you must, Severus. For me, and for our baby, okay? We’re not giving them half a family. We’re giving them a whole family and I need you to present.” His hand went down to your swollen stomach, resting there. A child he never thought he’d have. He nodded, slowly, and fell back asleep to the sound of your heartbeat, and you didn’t wake him until morning.

If anybody asked, Draco Malfoy did not cry. His parents hadn’t seen him do so since he was a child. A very young child. He had learned not to, because it disgraced the family name to show any sort of weakness. Then going to Hogwarts, and being a Slytherin. He was no Hufflepuff, he couldn’t cry. He couldn’t show any emotions other than displeasure and pride. A scowl or a smirk, there was no in between. He could exaggerate, but he could not cry. Not even when he was hit by Hermione Granger in third year, he could not let a tear be shed.

If anybody asked - Draco Malfoy did not cry. And that’s what you would tell them. But he did. The two of you would sneak into the Room of Requirement, after figuring out what it did because of Potter in the fifth year. Instead of the large class-room type space it had been for the DA, it was a small and cozy den with a single couch, where the two of you curled up and he could show his emotions freely. You were the only one who he bore himself too, poor thing. You were the only one that he trusted.

“You did what you had to do, Draco,” You assured him. He’d grabbed you. He had come running here after the death of Dumbledore and had spilled his guts to you. Told you everything. His guilt was immense, even if he had not been the one to utter the spell. “You’re human. They put so much on your shoulders. I’m so sorry that they did that.”

He had his head on your lap. You were stroking his hair. His tears were soaking through your clothes, making them stick to your thighs. You’d ask the room to dry you off before you left. That wasn’t even a problem.

“He was going to let me do it -” Draco said, his voice breaking. “He just stood there. He was going to let me kill him. Actually kill him-”

“And you were hoping that he would fight back?” You asked, your voice steady, despite tears of your own running down your face. “So that maybe, maybe he would disarm you and you wouldn’t have to do it?”

“He could have- he really bloody could have done something!”

“You’re not a murderer, Draco. And that’s okay. That’s good. You shouldn’t be. You didn’t sign up for this. So it’s okay to feel how you’re feeling, love. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. Somehow.”

At least that’s what you were hoping for.

There was something familiar about it. You couldn’t quite pick up on what it was. His mannerisms seemed the same. Other than maybe the flask, but given what had been happening with the world, you couldn’t blame him for having a few sips of spirits every now and again. You were known to do it too. Make a late night trip into the dungeons and share in a bottle of wine with Severus. He never was the firewhiskey type, it wasn’t sophisticated enough for his tastes.

You found yourself thinking about the past. You weren’t sure exactly why it was. But there you were. Maybe it was the fact that your ex-boyfriend’s father was here as part of the tournament. Barty Crouch Sr. It was triggering a lot of memories of his son, of the rough relationship that had happened between the two of you. Four years of your life, spent with that man. He had been so sweet at first. Handsome as well. The dark hair, the dark eyes, the stubble that was always there, the thick accent. You had fallen for him so hard.

But he had never been one of the good guys. There were definitely signs there from the beginning. At first, you had thought that the resentment for his father was - well, just that. And you couldn’t blame him for that. The first time that you had been invited around to meet the parents, at their request not yours, there had been a shouting match over dinner. The table had been thrown down upon the ground. Things had gone flying through the air. Senior had grabbed junior by the collar of his coat and thrown him down onto the ground. You had your wand at his throat, threatening him if he ever touched your Barty again. Father or not, that was unacceptable.

Yes, you would attribute it to Crouch Sr who still avoided looking at you. You had bested him in his own home. A woman! He took that as a great insult. One that he was not going to give you the chance to repeat.

You looked away from the staring moody towards another man who was giving you equal interest. Your boyfriend, though he claimed to hate the word because it sounded so juvenile, his mouth going upwards ever so slightly as you caught his eye.  You did constantly make fun of him for it. He preferred the word partner, but you sprinkled Boyfriend in as much as you could. ‘This is my BOYFRIEND Severus’ you would say whenever you saw someone that you knew. Your friends knew you well, they knew what you were doing and they’d giggle and introduce themselves. Severus would be standing stiff but his pale, translucent skin gave away his blushing quickly.

He was a fair bit older than you, but that never seemed to matter. He didn’t have the grin and Scottish cuteness of Barty, but he did have the dark hair and the dark eyes that you were attracted to. And being a bad boy. A very bad boy. You met him through working in the order, and caught him looking at you a couple of times. You were bold enough not to let that slide. You found a reason to be alone together, offering to wash the dishes for Molly since she cooked and coerced Severus into drying them with a dish towel the muggle way because using magic tends to leave spots. And it isn’t quite as anti-bacterial. His deep voice combined with the accent made your heart race. You showed him. You took his hand and pressed it right up against his chest to show him what he did to you. The effect that he had on a woman that he didn’t even know about. That was the first time that you had ever seen a man blush like that - and of course, he blamed it on the heat of the oven which had been off for over an hour now.

You kept it low key for a while. You didn’t want there to be any discomfort in the Order. You told your friends outside of it, your group of girls and guys from Hogwarts. They weren’t that surprised that you had fallen for a spy, it seemed right up your alley. They were just surprised that he had fallen for you in return. Severus goddamn Snape. The grumpy Potions master at Hogwarts, the gothic warlock, the man who took his fashion advice from dementors. There were all fair judgements. But he was still so much more than all of that.

Things started to grow. You went from finding him attractive, sexy, fascinating to - to falling in love. Something you hadn’t anticipated. You thought that after you had your heart broken by Barty, you would never feel that way again. It had ended so badly, you felt as if your heart had been wrenched into pieces. It had started off, as such things did, with sarcastic little comments. Making you feel bad about your weight, your profession, asking when the last time you had gotten your hair done was. You thought it might just be his father speaking through him somehow, the way that he was raised, he didn’t actually think you were ugly, did he? You weren’t exactly the type to go gracing the cover of Witch Weekly but - he still got under your skin. You put in a lot more effort for Barty. You tried to be better for him. The pressure was causing you to crack.

“What is this, dog slop?” “They feed the prisoners better in Azkaban than this.” “Bloody hell, what is that you’re wearing? The curtains?” “You need to change your perfume, you reek.” It was bad. But then they turned into even worse digs. “Why are you so useless?” “All that magic and you’re still pitiful.” “Knew I should have shacked up with that wench from the pub last night, why did I bother coming home to you?”

All of that pressure made you feel like Atlas with the world on your shoulders. Your friends had noticed all of the digs, because he did them even when you were in public with them. They tried to help you lift that weight but the most that they could really do was tell you that you were better than all of this and you should leave him. They would help you. They would shield you away from any payback that he might try to get.

But do you know what pressure also creates?

Diamonds.

And how you shone that night when you realized what you were worth. When you told him that you deserved better, plain and simple. And that you were not going to put up with his shit any longer. You stood up for yourself. You wore your comfortable outfit, the one that he said made you look like a slob. You had your hair tied back and you had no make up on and you just had a dinner of burgers and fries rather than steak and potatoes. You improved by regressing to the person that you liked being.

“I never needed you, Barty. I wanted you. I wanted you bad. But it was never a need, do you understand me? I don’t need your shit pulling me down. I don’t need a child to take care of like you, or a father to criticize me the way that you do, I don’t even need a boyfriend, which is great because you haven’t been acting like one in ages.”

Barty had gotten up from the table, pushed it away from him with a force that you hadn’t known his skinny arms had. He had his wand in hand. He lifted it, pointing it straight at you, his mouth a second away from saying who knows what words. But you were quicker. You had been anticipating an attack.

“Protego,” You muttered, your hand clasped around your wand. The shiny shield spell surrounded you, keeping you protected from whatever he might try to throw at you. Whether it was the Killing Curse or - you just hoped with the small flame inside of you that had burned for what the two of you had, that he wouldn’t dare try that one. He seethed. He licked his lips in one fluid motion. It was getting to be a new and worsening habit of his. Maybe all of those insults that he threw around were drying him out.

“If you so much as shoot one spell at me, Barty, I’ll make sure that even your father can’t protect you from the consequences,” You said, keeping the spell  around you as you picked up the bags that you had hastily packed. You only needed a moment. A moment to get out of the room and dissaparate from the house that you had shared with him for years. “Don’t follow me.”

“Y/N!” He yelled, his anger overtaking any sadness that he might have had. And you hated to see it. You had hoped, you had - you had really damn hoped that he would straighten himself up when he realized that he was losing you. That he would see the error of his ways. Begging you wasn’t going to do anything, you were going to leave no matter his reaction but some remorse would have been nice. Even an apology would have been ideal. But instead, you could see that all that you were going to get if you stayed was more threats. So you left. You left, you stayed with friends for a while until things seemed to die down. You got your own place when you heard that Barty Crouch Jr was arrested on suspicion of being a Death Eater. He was put away. He couldn’t bother you. You were safe.

And time passed. As it does. And then came Severus Snape, setting your heart aflame once again.

You blew him a kiss. People around Hogwarts new, there weren’t many secrets that could be held here, especially when it came to gossip. You heard a few disgusted sounds coming from people who had caught you making the action but that just made you grin all the more.

-

You hadn’t been doing your job properly. You should have known. There was the Sirius Black fiasco the year before. There was Barty Crouch Sr being murdered in the woods. And now there was a dead student. And something else - something else was there. All year long, a feeling in the pit of your stomach. Something dangerous was close. Something familiar. It hadn’t died with Barty’s father.

But there was no time to mourn. Severus was moving, along with Dumbledore and Minerva. There was no way that you were sitting out of that action. You had your wand in hand and you ran to catch up, meeting up with the much older Minerva without much difficulty. “What is it?” You asked, watching Severus’s back. “Where are we going?”

“There’s no time to explain,” Minerva said, putting a hand on your arm.

“Well alright then,” You mumbled, but followed along. Heading to - The Defense Against the Dark Arts room. And up the stairs, up to the door which lead to Mad-Eye Moody’s chambers. Mad-Eye Moody. Things had not really improved there. Whenever you were in the same room together, one of his eyes would follow you. Watch you. Normally, you wouldn’t put up with such things but - he was meant to be a friend, wasn’t he? He was a fellow Auror at least. Maybe he just suspected you of being dangerous because of your relationship with Severus. You let it slide. He never tried to actually talk to you, or to get close to you, thankfully. Just - watched.

It was disconcerting. But you could deal with it.

“Expelliamus!” Dumbledore said, wand blasting down the door, hitting Moody square in the chest. It took you a second to see that he had been ready to attack - Harry Potter. Moody fell down upon a chair, which went flying backwards into the wall. Harry got up from where he had been hiding, evidently, and you went to him while everyone else focused on Moody.

“Are you alright, Harry?” You asked, checking the boy over.

“-m alright,” He muttered. You stayed with him while seeing a new side of Albus, the bearded old Professor going up to the Auror, pointing his wand directly at his chin. The old man called for your boyfriend who stepped forward with a small bottle of potion, pouring it into Alastor’s mouth. You were beyond confused. And it didn’t seem like you were the only one either.

“Do you know who I am?” Albus asked. Moody was struggling something fierce.

“Albus Dumbledore,” He snarled.

“Are you Alastar Moody? Are you?”

Your own mouth dropped. You never even thought. Never suspected. You were hanging onto his every word.

“No.”

“Is he in this room? IS HE IN THIS ROOM?”

His eyes. They seemed to hint towards the large trunk that you and Harry were standing behind. Before Dumbledore could say a word, Severus moved swiftly to come between you, Harry and the trunk. His arms wrapped around you. You noticed this as you always did, his warmth was impossible to ignore - but as was the look that the Alastar imposter was giving you at that moment. Such a cold, unforgiving eye. You could almost place it - but no, no, you couldn’t believe that it would be - not him, of all people, not him -

Severus shuffled you, and you in return held onto Harry, away from the trunk. With a quick snap of his wand, all of the locks started to open, revealing layer after layer popping up until the top opened. You assumed that the real Moody was in there. You were not looking away from the imposter.

They figured it was Alastar. They figured that it was Polyjuice potion that was in the flask that he was always drinking from. Not firewhisky, nor some other brand of spirit you thought it might have been. No wonder his face always screwed up afterwards. Nasty stuff. And his face was screwing up, even now. His eye was drooping. His skin looked like wax that a candle had been lit underneath. Strange sounds. It drew the rest of the group’s attention to it but your eyes had not left. Not now. Not with your suspicions.

Which came true. You were proven right. Never have you hated it so much. The features became more and more clear, and then the voice, and there he was sitting right there in front of you.

Snape knew about him. You had opened up about your rough past. And he had opened up about his. And together, you had found a way to work on healing. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t above trembling at the familiar features. He was so - handsome still. Despite looking like a wreck.

“Barty Crouch Jr,” Albus said, his voice with a twinge of surprise.

“Hey sweetheart,” Barty said, looking at you. An atrocious lick of his lips. He wasn’t paying attention to Severus, Minerva, Albus or Harry. Even if his focus had been Harry all along. He’d been watching you. He’d been so close to you and you didn’t even know it. It felt as if you were just waking from a dream of insects and could feel them all over you, crawling over your skin, nearly making you crumple, if it hadn’t been for Severus, Severus keeping you from falling over, Severus keeping his wand pointed at the wizard. “You’re looking good.”

“The fact that you look at me at all makes me sick,” You said, fighting back the urge to spit on him.

“Oh, fiery as ever,” He said, tauntingly. “I’ve always liked that about you. I’ve missed you, love.”

“You don’t call her that,” Severus said, sharply.

“No, you do that now, don’t you?” Barty said, his tone just as dangerous as Severus’s. “But we all know that I’m still the face in your heart, aren’t I, love? Am I still your last thought before you go to bed?”

What you had told him in confidence years ago. That he was such a part of your world, that you fell asleep to the comforting thought of him. To his scent on the pillow, even on nights when he was gone. Now used against you. Now being used against Severus. The room was filled with energy; disgusted, anticipatory, confusion.

“We’re not doing this,” You said, shaking your head. “I’m not letting you do this, Barty. You know you fucked up and I’m not giving you the littlest bit of help over it.”

“Perhaps you should leave the room, Miss y/l/n,” Minerva said. And you agreed. She gave you a friendly pat on the shoulder while you glared at Barty and backed up out of the room. Down the stairs. Into the corridor. Even the classroom felt too full of him. Full of Barty. And it was out there that you fell down onto the ground, all of the familiar feelings rushing in after seeing his sweaty little face. Not good enough. Him trying to get inside of your head with just a couple of words. Him lashing out as Severus.

Severus.

His shadow fell over you as he took the couple of steps away from the door. He had a look on his face that you couldn’t quite read. He was just as stone cold on the outside as his skill in Occlumency made him on the inside. “He’s a death eater. He has the mark,” Severus said. He didn’t lower himself down to you but he did lean against the wall beside you, his cloak nearly making a blanket for you. “Voldemort is back.”

“But you knew that, didn’t you?” You said, looking up at his arm where his own mark lay hidden. Had to lay hidden. “Did you know that he was here?”

“Of course not,” Severus said, his tone still like a knife. “I wouldn’t have let him anywhere near the school.”

“Okay, okay,” You said, taking a deep breath. You felt bad for even asking. Of course Severus wouldn’t let Barty come anywhere near you. “What’s going to happen now?”

“He’ll be taken to Azkaban. And will never come near you again.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Being perfect.”

Having grown up without any sort of compliment, Severus did not take them well. He had to look away from you, down the hall, see if anyone was looking at him, but everyone was still caught in the commotion of poor Cedric. There was no one to notice the redness that came across his face.

“I need to stay here. Make sure there’s no trouble when the aurors come to get him.”

“I’ll go wait in your office. I don’t want to see him again.”

“Hurry, hurry,” You hissed, pushing your brother along, his bright silver hair, the same hair you had, creating a beacon in the darkness. He went, nearly tripping, until you made it to the bottom of the stairs, and crashed through the doors. You had to get out of here before people saw. You had to make your escape before the three of you were killed for what you had just done - but maybe you deserved it, you thought. Maybe you should be grabbed by these professors that you had adored over the years, and face the consequences for your actions.

Clad in black, the three of you ran from the school. The other deatheaters, the ones that were truly terrifying, would be chasing soon. The death mark was above the school, you didn’t need to turn your head as you fled to see it. You could feel it. It was burning on your arm, like it was on Draco’s, like it was on Severus’s.

As soon as you were beyond the perimeter of the school, before the aurors and the ministry would report to deal with the death of Dumbledore and attempt to find out how the death eaters had gotten in, you teleported with the two. Severus had set up a safe house for you three to cool down after the murder. Reporting straight to Lord Voldemort now was too risky. And staying at the school was out of the question.

The house was dark, dingy, but livable. A mutter of lumos and you were able to see your way around, and light up the place. It was small, two bedrooms, but it was the best that you could come up with given the short notice and the secrecy. You were just planning on sharing with Draco, but he went running into one of the bedrooms, and locked the door behind him. You sighed and sat down on the couch, supposing you would take that. You were exhausted, and your heart hurt more than anything. Severus sat beside you, rubbing his temples with his fingertips.

“You did what you had  to do, Severus,” You said, your voice just barely above a whisper. “And you saved my brother’s life - thank you.”

He looked over at you, his face looking worn and aged, more so than you had remembered when you had merely been his pupil, years ago. He hadn’t looked as old then, nor as tired. Things have been hard since the war had started back up, and it was taking its toll on everyone. You weren’t exactly the fresh faced blonde that you had been during your school days. He didn’t say anything to you, only looked, and then nodded. You laid your head down on the back of the couch, and fell asleep surprisingly easily after the rush of the night. The emotions that you were feeling were still welling up, and you needed that escape, even for a few hours.

--

You three continued to hide out together over the next couple of days. When you had woken up after that first night, you had found that you were in the second bedroom, where you did not remember falling asleep. Severus, as you had found out, had carried you there himself after you had passed out on the couch. He then had taken the place he forced you to vacate. It turned into a thing between the two of you. Whoever fell asleep first would get moved. You had to use magic, not being as strong as he was, but the premise stood. You ended up tucking each other in every night.

You noticed many things about him while staying at the safe house, and the big one was how guilty he felt over what he had done. Killing Dumbledore was a huge step for him, and he was taking it hard. Your brother was as well, not really leaving the room that he had claimed as his own, except to use the bathroom and when you forced him to eat. But Severus was taking it especially hard, which confirmed your suspicions. That your Lord, the Dark Lord, was not his true one, just as he was not yours. It was nothing that you could say aloud, for even invoking such a conversation was dangerous, but you wanted to make sure that he knew you felt the same.

He spent a lot of time on the sofa, staring blankly ahead, or picking one of the books off the teetering shelf and scanning through it. “Severus,” You cleared your throat, putting the bags of muggle fast food on the table. You were the one who usually made the runs for it, since it was easier for you to disguise yourself than it was for these two. Severus would draw a lot of attention upon himself just for walking down the street. He set the book down beside the greasy bags and looked up at you, that pain still in his eyes. It broke your heart to see it there. “Are you going to be alright?”

He looked a little puzzled at your question. But then he slowly nodded and went for the bag of food. It still seemed unfamiliar to him. He couldn’t figure out how to open the cardboard container with the burger in it without spilling it everywhere. He ended up resorting to a spell to get it to open. Before he could do that today, you opened it for him, and put it in front of him. “Thank you,” He muttered.

“You’re welcome,” You said. You knocked on Draco’s door to let him know that you had brought food, and you barely got a grunt in response. You sighed and sat down on the sofa next to Severus, sliding your own bag over. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with the two of you.”

“Excuse me?” Severus asked, in his deep voice.

You looked at him, square in those dark eyes of his. This was the first honest to God eye contact that you had with him since Dumbledore’s death, and you weren’t going to waste the opportunity. “You heard me. I’m upset about what happened to, and it’s shite that it went down that way but sulking around isn’t going to solve anything. Do you think the Order are just staring at walls, or do you think they’re working on a plan?”

“It is too late, the Order has lost,” Severus said, thin-lipped. You shook your head at him, not believing that for a second.

“Has anyone tried to tell them that?” You asked. “I guarantee you they are not sitting on couches, doing nothing at all. We’re part of this, Severus. And - and I would rather continue on my mission and fight against evil even if that means that I get caught and killed for being a traitor. Draco doesn’t get that, but I know that you are old enough to. So come on, snap out of this, we have to do something.”

“I’m due back at the school,” Severus admitted to me. “I got my mission while you were out.”

“Back to - what do they expect for you to do there?”

“Run it.” He said, sighing. It was such a sad noise to come from such a man. While you were his pupil, you had idolized him. Sure, he was always a bit of a grumpy old prat but he was brilliant. And he was powerful. After a long minute, you scooched closer to him and rested your head against his shoulder.

“Then we’ll come with you,” You whispered. “Any of the students who go back aren’t going to trust you. You’re going to need help watching your back.”

“We’ll have to wait and see what the Dark Lo-”

“I told you, I’m coming with you - and Draco is probably going to be sent back to the school anyway. I’ll talk to the Dark Lord myself about it if I have to.”

“Why?” Severus asked, his eyebrows furrowing. Seeing him like that, with a McDonalds burger in his hands, and a confused expression was enough to make you start to sigh.

“Because we’re in this together. You and me,” You told him. A thick silence hung in the air, and it remained uninterrupted, even as Severus put his food down, and tentatively, like he had never done such a motion before, put his hand on your knee.

“Thank you,” He said, and you could tell that these were words that he didn’t use very often. You moved your head away to face him, and your lips lightly brushed against his. You hadn’t realized that he was leaning in so close. And you didn’t actually hate the feeling.

Your lips tingled as they caught his again. He had frozen once he registered what had happened, but then slowly, achingly so, his lips moved against yours into something that could only be called a kiss. It was short, but it was definitely sweet, and when you moved back away from it, he still had that furrowed brow.

It was only then that the silence was interrupted by an owl fluttering against one of the darkened windows. Your orders had finally arrived. You would be going back to Hogwarts.

--

You finally felt like you could breathe, despite the dust that was still in the air from the fallen down walls, and the scent of blood and death. There was great loss here, but it was over, and Tom Riddle, Lord Voldemort, The Dark Lord, You-Know-Who, whatever you wanted to call him, was gone.

Your mother, father and brother had run from the scene, to hide from the Ministry, until they would claim that they were under the imperius curse or something similar. But as you had shown from your frustration at being cooped up, you were not the run and hide type of person. You walked among the wounded and the injured, looking for one face in particular, and ran to his side when you finally saw him.

“He’s in pretty rough shape,” McGonagall said from behind you. You didn’t turn to face her, but you nodded, seeing it for yourself. He wasn’t conscious, but he was breathing, his chest still rising up and down. He had deep marks in his neck where Nagini had bitten him. The rumor was that he had died for a second, before something made him fight against it, and cause his heart to start beating again. But that second of death was enough for Voldemort to wield the Elder Wand. But he was defeated, it was all in the past, and you were going to look toward the future.

“I’ll take care of him,” You said, brushing a black lock out of his face. “I promise.”

--

You were cleared by the Ministry after an Inquiry. You were not pretending to have been under the Imperius Curse, but many Hogwarts students, those that survived the war, spoke up on your behalf. While you were there, watching over Draco and over Severus, you had been working on keeping them safe. You smuggled out letters to their parents that they could not send because the Owlry was under observation. And you worked on getting the younger students somewhere safe, and setting barrier charms around them so that the destruction could not come close. You weren’t going to get a medal for your service or anything, but at least you had your freedom. The ministry would be watching your upcoming career closely, however, for any signs of slipping into the dark arts. They had nothing to fear from you, and you would prove that to them. For now, you were just at a Malfoy safe house that hadn’t been seized, and were nursing Severus back to health.

He was still on bedrest, but he was eating, and drinking, and reading again. So essentially back to the mopey Severus that you had gotten to know while you were in hiding. You brought him in a sandwich today, one that you made yourself. He showed a lot of distaste over fast food, so you were getting none of that. Just real food for him.

“Miss Malfoy,” Severus said, setting his book down on the bed as you walked inside. You raised your eyebrow at the formality, and set the food down on the little propped up tray you had for him to help him eat better.

“You could just call me by my first name now. I’m not calling you Professor Snape, or even Mister Snape.”

“Ahh - I suppose not,” Severus said. You sat on the edge of the bed, leaning in to tuck a napkin into the collar of his shirt. “Y/N,” He said, instead.

“Yes, Severus?”

He cleared his throat, something that I rarely heard him do before. “I loved once.”

“Harry’s mother, I know,” You said with a nod. You had heard the rumors before. And it was quite tragic, having unrequited love, as you had been finding out recently. Severus nodded back in return, his food going untouched.

“And I have held onto that ... always.” Another long pause. You sat there, watching him, waiting for him to find the words for whatever it was that he wanted to say, because it couldn’t be just that. It would hurt too much if that was it. “I don’t talk about emotions.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“But I want to,” He looked like he was having a very rough time getting these words out, so you stayed quiet, sitting next to him. “I suppose that I am trying to say that I care about you.”

“You suppose?” You asked, then realized that it was the wrong thing to say. He looked a little wounded, like you were making fun, though that wasn’t your intention. “Severus, I love you. And if you’re trying to say it back, just say it.”

“I ... love you.” He said. You smiled, leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth. You didn’t want to overwhelm him right now, though that was all that you wanted to do. Push that tray away, straddle him and -