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It’s a cold night, and the common room was eerily quiet. The wind shook the windows, and the flames crackled as the flickered what bit of light remained across the floor in scattered rays, but outside from that it was quiet. Too quiet.
It’s not that you still had work to do at this hour– oh no, you were quite the diligent student and the work had been done hours ago. What warranted you to stay awake until 2am was a different matter altogether, a conversation you turned over and over in your head like the wearing down of a page.
Of course, your mind was typically fixed on Professor Snape during class, but in the moments in between, and when you were curled up in your bed late at night… He plagued your mind, infested your thoughts with how low, gravelly voice and the intense stare that he gave. So blunt, and yet he was so enigmatic.
It was something you had heard in potions class today, when everyone was frantically trying to figure out how to finish their potions with less than five minutes left in class. You had finished first, and as your partner had been absent due to some fever, you found yourself particularly proud of the good work you had put into the class, always so eager to impress your stone-cold professor.
Of course he managed a small nod as he wandered over to your station upon seeing you had finished, but that’s not what stuck in your mind. Instead, it was the small comment he made as he was making his rounds, when another student’s potion shot out some of its contents after they put in too much of an ingredient, and for the slightest second scorched Snape’s immaculate button-up.
“Damned thing…The button is going to get all stuck now,” you had heard him whisper to himself after giving a thorough scolding to the students.
It really shouldn’t have stuck with you, but it was so unlike him to make such a comment. Not only that, but why would the button be such a bother to him if he wasn’t hurt? Was it a particular favorite shirt of his?
Something was off about it. You knew him better than that, you cataloged all those little comments he made in your head, and it just wasn’t adding up.
You huffed, slamming your books shut and getting up, stretching your back. Though you weren’t allowed outside of the common room at this hour, a good little walk would do you some good.
As you predicated, the halls were empty, and they looked so much larger without the bustle of the students and staff to suffocate it all. You were acutely aware of the sound of your footfalls, how loud they were with only the high-pitched whistling of the wind to keep you company.
After some time, you don’t know how much, you found yourself close to the teacher’s quarters. Of course, perhaps your little stroll was motivated by what had been swirling around in your mind, but curiosity took the best of you.
Nobody was going to catch you at this hour anyways, right?
You were careful to make as little noise as possible slowly walking down the vast corridor. You were a good student, if anyone caught you you could just say that you had gotten lost in the darkness of the halls, made a wrong turn somewhere.
The quick rustling like the moving of furniture behind one of the large doors stopped you dead in your tracks.
You held your breath, seeing the light that seeped out from beneath the tiny crack of the door, alerting you to someone’s still conscious presence. After a couple seconds, you slowly walked forward, but the sudden opening of the door made your blood freeze.
“Miss (y/n),” you heard from behind. No, the familiar voice made your heart race, your pulse accelerating as you slowly turned around.
Those black eyes gave no indication of the furiousness you expected. They were cold, sure, but his face did not betray any sense of rage.
“And what might you be doing in these prohibited corridors at such hours?”
Though you had planned it out already, you felt your mind fry up as you tripped over your tongue, “I, um, got lost?”
“Hmm,” he said, and you realized just how odd it was. His head and neck were poking out from the door that was open just a few inches, hair a bit disheveled, but he didn’t make an effort to step out of the door frame to speak to you. Well, not like he needed to anyways.
He continued, “Well Miss (y/n), instead of turning you over to Dumbledore in the morning, I have a proposition I can make, as long as you swear secrecy to it, and in turn you were never here.”
“A proposition? Of what sorts?” You asked it more so out of curiosity and formality rather than general consideration of the offer. He could have asked you anything and you would have jumped at the offer and said yes.
“I have a bit of a personal predicament, one I try very hard to keep out of prying eyes and ears. If you help me, I will keep your name clear. Do you or do you not accept?”
Personal predicament? That was a one-way ticket to an answer of “hell yeah” right there.
You nodded, and he opened up the door, retreating back into his room as you followed blindly, quickly closing the door behind you in the process. Best to keep those prying eyes he was mentioning away.
The sight awaiting you was certainly the last thing you expected when he mentioned ‘personal predicament’.
The Severus Snape you came to know was no longer the same as the creature that stood in front of you. His head, legs, even robes looked identical, and you realized then that it had been him talking, but it was the body that nearly made you bolt out of the room terrified.
Rather than the normal, more human form that you were expecting, it looked like somebody had stretched him out so that his torso was at least ten feet long, maybe even closer to fifteen. Simply speaking it was long, with his arms dangling by his side at an incredible length. He almost reminded you of a centipede, as his torso formed humps reminiscent of a camel’s back.
Holy shit.
“I know this is not what you imagined, and so you know you see how imperative it is that we keep this between us.”
“But… In class…”
“Potions hold infinite possibilities, endless capabilities.”
You couldn’t help but gawk as his form snaked out. His furniture had been moved to the extremities of the walls, leaving enough space for him without bumping into anything in the center, though the room did not leave him with very much room.
The noise, you thought, that’s probably what it was then.
“I need you to get some of the lower buttons for me. I know it is an intimate space to touch, but believe me that pesky little accident back at the lab left those buttons harder for me to get undone, especially in my current position.”
The little explosion back in potions class. Of course.
You nodded, simply at a loss for words, and you could see where he had unbuttoned most of his blouse, down to where the much lower part of his torso became more… natural. Closer to his legs that were of what you esteemed proportionally correct human size.
You stepped closer, and gingerly tried to undo the button, which had been slightly seared. You could feel your pulse rush in your fingers, and you tried to fix your eyes onto him, but there simply was no right place to look. His bare torso that glistened in the candle light was right in front of your face, and looking up was the expanse of his bare, long torso. Looking down would get you his crotch and legs, and if you looked elsewhere, you knew your fingers would fumble the job.
You just looked forward, focusing on the last six or so buttons that had to be undone. How were these the same buttons seared in class today? The properties of the fabric and material astounded you, the whole situation muddied your thoughts, and so when you finished, you pushed the thick material of it off to the side, revealing his pale, yet flushed, skin.
“There,” you said, “all done.”
“Thank you, Miss (y/n), you are dismissed,” he said, turning his head around and his long torso seemed to slowly twist with him as he faced the direction of a four-post bed at the other end of the room.
You stood grounded in your space, taking in the sight of it all that still confused and yet intrigued you. You fulfilled your end of the bargain, and yet…
“Professor,” you asked, acutely aware of the boundaries you were crossing, sirens going off in your head, “I’m not sure how many others know of this form, but your secret is safe with me. If you need more help in the future, I’m more than happy to be called upon for help. I can understand how this may cause a few issues to come up.”
He paused, looking back at you. It seemed so odd, his head nearly touching the roof and though in his normal form he was taller than you, here he towered over in a way that reminded you of a giraffe.
“I appreciate the offer Miss (y/n),” he said. “You’re the only student– only Dumbledore and Minerva are aware otherwise. I will keep that in mind for the future.”
“Will there be any future offers?”
You don’t know why you said it, why it just left your mouth before you could even think about what you were saying–
“Perhaps. Come back tomorrow night, 11pm sharp. I may need more assistance in a different manner. And I will certainly make it worth your time.”
You felt giddy, thanked him, and left the room, careful to not make any sound as you left.
As you sprinted back to your dorm, lacking the awareness to care of who could spot you so late at night, all you could think about was what tomorrow night would bring.
And if all proportions, even those under his belt, matched such long form.