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Springtime was supposed to be rebirth; blooming flowers, blooming love- a new life for those who had faced the wrath of a cold autumn and a dead winter.
Springtime for you, however, brought just the opposite. You were bedridden; moving not even three feet caused you to collapse into a coughing fit on the floor. You had strict orders to stay in bed until the fits passed, but it was difficult to sit around and do nothing. Every day, you tried to see how far you could get from your bed, which wasn’t far.
Early into the school year, you had been diagnosed with Hanahaki. You wanted to keep it on a need to know, only telling a few select staff members you trusted: Dumbledore, of course, McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey (who tried her best to help you slow the disease's progression).
You tried to think about the students, about their futures, and about yours. Your students were going to start worrying if you kept missing classes and it was unfair to them that you weren’t there to teach. It’s unfair that you might not make it to the second term. Unfair that you can’t spend the holidays with your family.
Because of this stupid disease. Because of stupid love.
And the worst part, you think, is that you’re in love with Severus Snape.
Rumored to be incapable of feeling love, Snape was sort of an enigma. Most people in Hogwarts spent their time actively trying to avoid him, but within your first few years working with him, the two of you became close. Which is why the moment you started to develop feelings for him, you tried distancing yourself as much as possible.
Hanahaki’s fucking gruesome, but you’d be damned if you were going to let your feelings be the thing that takes you out.
You started to take up other hobbies to spend your time ignoring those bubbling feelings. Which was a terrible idea in hindsight, since now it’s going to be your downfall. You saw less of Snape and more of Madam Pomfrey, who was happy to nourish your newfound interest in medicine (and you knew a lot about potions already, so having an extra helping hand on call was always a plus).
Pomfrey was the first to notice your disease. It was hard to hide it from someone who specialized in taking care of the sick.
When the disease got worse, clumps of flowers starting to jump out of your throat with every cough, you decided you’d do something about it. Pomfrey said you should go to St. Mungo’s, which you did, ready to try any and every magical remedy you could.
The best they could give you was a strong dose of cough medicine and well wishes.
‘Once Hanahaki starts, the only way to get it to stop is for your true love to reciprocate your feelings,’ You had read in a medical textbook, trying to learn as much about it as possible. ‘Only romantic feelings will be strong enough to cure the disease.’ You sighed.
‘Hanahaki can also be cured through surgical removal of the plant roots,’ You perked up at this, but then you read the catch, ‘but this will render the patient incapable of feeling romantic love ever again.’
Is it worth it?
No… Of course it’s not…
But you never stopped thinking about it as a possibility. Because you had a feeling that the first option wasn’t going to work out.
“There’s probably a potion to slow its progression.” Madam Pomfrey had told you when you came to her again, begging for anything you could do to lessen the effects, “You should go talk to Professor Snape about it.”
That was exactly your problem (though there was no way she could have known that). Talking to Professor Snape always made it worse. Without fail, whenever you were near him, you’d fall into a coughing fit. You’d hide the flowers in your fist and toss them away later with disgust.
You ended up confiding in McGonagall with this information, hoping you could get some advice from the sage woman. Or at the very least, just rant a little and feel less burdened. It felt childish, like you were gossiping about your high school crush, but then you remembered your life was on the line and stopped caring about how she would perceive you.
‘You need to tell him, (Y/N).’ Minerva’s voice rang in your head. You put a pillow over your face and groaned as you recalled her words. ‘He’s an incredible Potions Master, but dense when it comes to love. You’ll have to spell it out for him. You’re not going to get any better until you do.’ She sounded a bit more hopeful that he’d return your feelings than you were.
But either way, she was right, though it wasn’t easy.
“Hey! I love you! Now please tell me you love me too or else I might fucking die.”
You can see how that might be a problem.
You groaned into the pillow again as you heard a knock on your door. You removed the pillow, yelling, “Come in!” loud enough for whoever was on the other side to hear.
The door slowly opened and you only saw the flow of black robes as the person closed the door behind them. You choked, thick flower petals starting to travel up your throat and threatening to spill. What the hell was he doing here?
Snape stood by your bed, a steaming tea cup in his hand.
“I brought you some tea.”
You raised an eyebrow, “Who told you to do that?” You almost slapped yourself for how rude that sounded, but then again the two of you hadn’t been speaking too much recently, so you really couldn’t see him wanting to help you out on his own volition.
He shifted where he stood. You gave him an incredulous look. He avoided your eye for a moment.
“Oh… Sorry,” You apologized as he handed you the cup without saying much else. “Thanks.”
Did he really come here on his own? To check on you?
He nodded, “How have you been feeling?”
“Honestly? Like shit.”
“Pomfrey tells me you were looking into potions for cures?”
Ah, that’s why he was here. The Madam told him to. You tried to hold back a sigh. You were too hopeful.
You nod in response after a sip of tea. It’s delicious, did he make it himself? You try your best to hold down the question.
“You’ll have to tell me what’s wrong, (Y/N). I can’t do much for you like this.”
This time you actually did sigh, “I’ve just… got a bad cough. Bit of a fever, I think?”
He noticed your lack of eye contact as you spoke, but didn’t mention it.
“I could brew something for that.” He mumbled with a finger on his chin, mostly to himself. You had no doubt his intelligent mind was already running through hundreds of different ingredients he could use to make something for you.
Sadly, it wouldn’t do you any good. But you couldn’t just tell him the truth.
“Is there anything else you need?”
Your heart warmed at his kindness, the feeling overtaking any rising questions about his unprecedented visit.
“No, nothing at all, Severus. Thank you.” You smiled at him, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. He nodded stiffly and then walked out, gently closing the door behind him. You placed the teacup on your nightstand, then flopped backwards on your bed.
Coughing once, you caught a rather large bud falling out of your mouth. You grimaced, weakly throwing it at the window.
You stared out at the black lake for a while that night, lost in thought about Snape, before eventually you fell asleep.
The next day was one of the worst in a while.
You laid in bed all day, unable to find a comfortable position to be in. Every time you moved, you coughed so hard a flower in full bloom would come out. At first you tried keeping your space clean, but after a while you stopped caring. The side of your bed was lined with different flowers of different colors and sizes, all signifying different things. You didn’t have it in you to go research what that was, though.
Pomfrey had shown up at one point, a frown on her face as she saw your worsening state. She was there to deliver Snape’s potion to you, something light in color but not at all pleasing to smell.
“He said this should help but… You didn’t tell him what was really wrong, did you?”
You shook your head, “It’s not an easy task.”
“Oh, dear…” She sat down on the bed, the flask with the medicine placed on your bedside next to the forgotten tea. “I know it’s hard, but you’re not doing yourself any good hiding it from him.”
You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes, “I know, but how? And if he rejects me…”
She gave you a sad smile, “You won’t know until you talk to him, dear. And we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, hm?” There was something knowing in her gaze, though. As if there’s no way it would get to that point. You shook it off as your own hopefulness.
“I’ll let you think about it. In the meantime, drink this. Who knows, it might help.” She handed you the flask and slowly stood, making her way out the door.
“W-wait, Madam!”
She turned to you from the doorway, a small smile on her lips, “Yes?”
“Could you possibly… tell him to come here?”
“Of course.” She gave you one last smile, sweet and knowing, then she was out the door.
Within the next hour, your door was being opened again. You gripped onto your bedsheets, anxiety filling you as Snape came into view. He looked… Worried.
“Madam Pomphrey told me you needed something? Is this about the potion?”
“Um…” You glanced at the flask sitting on your side table, still full. “…No.”
He motioned for you to continue and you suddenly felt your throat close. From the roots or the nerves, you weren’t sure, but it was suddenly very hard to talk. You opened your mouth, but then started coughing when you felt like you couldn’t breathe.
Snape was quick to jump to your aid, coming up to your bedside and handing you the cold tea. It wasn’t the best, having been sitting there for hours, but it helped. You hid your face in your blanket as you finished your coughing fit, trying to hide the enormous amount of flowers that started to come up while you choked. They floated down into your lap, a beautiful reminder of your downfall.
Finally, after a long silence when you concluded you were no longer going to cough, you spoke.
“I have Hanahaki, Severus.”
Realization dawned on his face and he looked at you with a mixture of shock and sympathy. You looked away, not wanting to face him while you spoke the next part.
“And before I can put it off any longer, I just want you to know, I really like you. A lot. I’m sorry I’ve been really shit at showing you that, but it’s true.” Your eyes were squeezed shut tight, not yet ready to face him or see his reaction.
There was another moment of silence, but then you felt a weight on the bed. He had sat down, facing you.
“(Y/N), look at me.”
You listened, though you’d rather not. It was just better than making him repeat himself.
You stared into his black eyes, stared like you were searching for something. Searching for something that might not be there.
You felt a tug on your brain, like someone had pulled a string through your ear. You slap your hand over it, the feeling very unusual.
Legilimency.
Your head turned, looking away once you realized. You shook your head, “I didn’t like that, Sev.”
He frowned, “I am sorry, but… You must understand my doubts.”
“I don’t.” You cut him off curtly.
“I’m…” He seemed to be at a loss for words, which you would have counted for a win had you not felt like you were suffocating. “…Me.”
You smiled, “Yeah. You’re you.”
He went quiet again and you sighed.
“Do you really think that no one could love you, Severus? To the point where you had to poke into my brain?”
The question hit him harder than it should. He nodded slowly, confusion and hurt plastered on his features.
“It’s… hard to imagine.”
That genuinely broke your heart.
“Sev…” He turned towards you, ready to listen, but all you did was lean forward and pull him into a hug.
Snape froze, unsure of what to do. For a second, you felt like an idiot. Of course he wasn’t reciprocating, he was just confiding in you… But then you felt arms slide around your back, surprisingly gentle. He held you like that for a good few minutes, the both of you finding that you’d rather not move until you absolutely had to.
Which, sadly, ended up being sooner rather than later, because you let out a rough cough, which started up a whole fit. You let the petals and small rose buds fall atop the blanket, no longer trying to hide it.
Snape gently rubbed your back, handing you the tea once more. Once you calmed down, Snape looked at you nervously. It was an odd look on him, he was usually so sure of himself.
“How do we… fix that?”
You let out a quiet giggle after another sip, “I think you have to kiss me.”
His face heated up, a bright blush against his pale skin. You let another giggle slip out, finding it absolutely adorable.
“Wait- Wait! Does that mean you do like me?”
He rolled his eyes, “Don’t be a fool.”
With a big smile, and a deep blush, you shook your head, “I’m just surprised.”
“That’s hard to believe.”
He sat back down and leaned towards you, pressing his forehead to yours. You smiled at him, your heart pounding. You could tell he was a tad nervous, too, which made you feel more comfortable.
“How so?”
You saw him roll his eyes, “Do I really have to list all the reasons I fell for you right now?”
Your blush deepened, but you let out another laugh, “Hmm.. No, I guess not right now…”
“How kind of you.”
His finger came up to your chin, tilting your head up towards him. Your eyes met for a moment, then your eyes met his lips. Your nerves creeped up on you again, but before you could say anything else, he leaned in, and kissed you.
It was chaste; short, but sweet. It got the point across easily, but you wanted more. As he pulled back, you reached your arms up around his neck and pulled him back to you. You lips clashed together rather sloppily, but neither of you were complaining. You kissed him again, this time longer, and a bit more passionate.
When the both of you pulled away, you were panting a bit. Your chest felt less tight and as you caught your breath, you realized that the roots must have started to unwrap around your lungs. In its place was a warmth, a beautiful warmth that made your face burn and your heart squeeze.
“You’re an amazing kisser.” You said to him with a dazed grin.
He let out a low laugh, “Surprised?”
“Maybe a little.”
He rolled his eyes at you once more while you giggled, but he didn’t deny you another kiss as you pulled him down into your arms.