Chapter Text
Severus only had one thing on his mind as he stormed out of the Headmaster’s office一the Yule Ball.
He had just received some utterly devastating news. Each Head of House would be required to instruct their respective houses on how to waltz for the dance that would take place on Christmas Day. Severus was truly dreading the whole ordeal.
His cloak billowed out behind him as he made his way through the halls and to the dungeons. Students quickly moved out of the professor's way to evade his wrath, especially after seeing the bubbling anger in his dark eyes.
Why me?
This is the question Severus kept asking himself. He wanted no part of this infernal event, but alas, Dumbledore has demanded his presence at the ball.
He now had to take time out of his already busy schedule to organize dance practice .
Severus finally reached his chambers and slammed his door closed with great force. He was fairly certain even Albus had heard it; his Slytherins most definitely did.
The Potions Master needed something to take his mind off the situation. He strode across the ill-lit room to his kitchen cabinets and poured himself a glass of Ogden’s Old Firewhisky.
Hopefully, this will make me forget, for the current moment that is.
The fireplace then roared to life with a flick of Snape’s wand, offering warmth and some more light. He moved to sit in the leather armchair in front of his fireplace, his glass in one hand and the bottle of firewhisky in the other. He had since thrown off his teaching robes and allowed himself to unwind even more. A few buttons from his collar came undone and his sleeves had been rolled up a bit.
As Severus went to take a drink, his eyes caught the partly revealed Dark Mark on his left forearm. Great, just another thing to worry about . The darkening color of the skull and snake has deeply unsettled him for the past few weeks and it certainly hasn’t helped that Karkaroff is constantly cornering him.
Perhaps it would be better to think about the Yule Ball right now.
The raven-haired man sighed and relaxed further into his armchair after stretching his sore legs out from standing all day during lectures. Truthfully, he didn’t want to think about anything at the moment, but his thoughts could never quiet down.
The irritation that Snape felt from the meeting in Dumbledore’s office returned once more and he moved to refill his glass with Ogden’s Old. The burning sensation of the drink offered a sense of relief to him at this moment.
Sat in front of the dying flames, Snape had finally made some decisions about the preparations for the dance. He would need to borrow a gramophone with music for an evening and find a suitable space for the actual dancing to occur. Nowhere in the dungeons offered enough room needed for all of his students. Severus would have to ask the other Heads of Houses about their plans.
With these things finally thought out, the professor put out the fire and returned to his kitchen. His secluded chamber returned to its poorly lit state. Snape placed the bottle of firewhisky back in its respective cabinet and walked to his bedroom with heavy feet.
Simply put一he was exhausted. There was too much to do and not enough time.
After changing into his nightwear, Severus slid under the dark covers of his bed and into the silky sheets. He blew out the candle on his bedside table, plunging his room into pure darkness.
As slumber claimed him, Severus hoped for a night of peaceful sleep that he so rarely got.
Please.