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“I can’t take him anymore.” The words came surlishly out of Draco’s mouth, and the boy dumped his bag on the floor and then actually slumped into the chair opposite Severus’ desk, glaring furiously.
Severus sighed. He was still recovering from Nagini’s venom, and although he’d been in a coma for two months… really, at times he was tempted to return to that restful state.
At least then he wouldn’t have to cope with over-dramatic Slytherins…
“And what,” Severus said delicately, “did he do this time?”
Draco’s scowl worsened. “He deliberately tried to provoke me in Defence Against the Dark Arts today. Saying, ‘Oh, Malfoy, no need for us to learn what Banshees sound like, we can all just remember you screaming as you clutched onto Harry while he saved your life during the Battle of Hogwarts!’”
Ah. Severus had to hide a smile. Draco really was being so melodramatic.
“And,” Draco continued obstinately, “everyone laughed, and he looked so bloody pleased with himself.”
Severus raised an eyebrow. “And you decided to hex him?”
Draco crossed his arms. “I couldn’t let that go unpunished.”
Of course not.
Severus sighed.
“Draco… please. You are on thin ice. You and Mr Weasley must learn how to reconcile your differences—”
“I am! He’s the one who keeps starting it!”
Ah.
And that might really be the problem.
Severus looked closer at his protégé.
Draco had attended his classes, taken meals in the Great Hall, and studied in the library since his return to Hogwarts. And he did nothing else. No Hogsmeade trips, no pranks in the corridor, no badges. Well, thank Merlin for that.
But…
Severus thought back to the youngest Weasley son.
He’d split from Granger that summer.
It was still a bit of a mystery, but Severus had his own ideas; Weasley was very rash and impulsive, and Granger was measured, thoughtful and—dare he say it—much more focused on outcomes rather than dramatics. It was no wonder they were… incompatible. Plus, Weasley and Potter had been spotted at some of the… shall we say, broom-friendly establishments in Diagon Alley, if rumour was to be believed.
Draco was, of course, at this minute sullen, pouting, and cross. But if one looked beyond that, at the striking looks of the Blacks, the stunning white-blond of his hair, and the elegant arch of a cupid’s bow, no one could deny that he had regained his attractive looks. Add to that the fact that the youngest Malfoy had turned his back on his family and their dark legacy, and had directed Ministry officials—including Arthur Weasley—to the secret rooms in their home where dangerous artefacts were hidden, despite his father’s furious protests and even before the Ministry had gathered itself enough to start an investigation?
Well.
It was certainly enough to shift one's perspective on a former enemy to somethng much more positive.
And now, Weasley was provoking Draco?
Severus had to hide a laugh.
Oh, Gryffindors were so obvious.
Well, well, well. What an interesting turn of events.
Severus clasped his fingers together.
Not that Weasley was skilled enough with flirting to be able to catch Draco’s interest. No, like a stubborn Flobberworm, he was cluelessly just trying to get any attention he could get. Better, though, than running away, like he reportedly did with the Beauxbaton Champion Delacour, Severus mused. But still not likely to give results.
And was Draco even interested?
Perhaps that was the most important thing to know. And for that, he would need more information.
Severus leaned forward in his chair. “Listen to me, Draco. He will be punished. But you must also learn that you cannot hex whoever you like—especially now that the Houses are trying to draw together for unity.”
Draco gave a restrained jerk of his head.
Severus nodded. “I am sentencing you to detention every night this week. It is not up for discussion,” he added hastily, as Draco opened his mouth in protest. “You will come and see me at eight o’clock tonight to commence. You are dismissed.”
Draco—wisely—did not protest further, and merely picked up his bag, sliding the strap onto his shoulder, before exiting the room with a quick incline of his head.
Severus sat back in his chair.
He would be taking the Eighth-years for Potions later that afternoon.
And as a certain Weasley still sought to become an Auror and would be in that class… it would be the perfect time to watch Weasley and Draco interact.
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Severus could hear voices murmuring in the Potions classroom as he approached. He stifled a smirk as he lengthened his strides, pushing back his shoulders and throwing the door of the room open with a bang.
Silence fell immediately, students sitting straighter at their seats and swivelling around to the front. Severus stalked past all of them, taking his place at the front of the room and whirling around to face the group.
“Today, we will be brewing…”
Hmmm… Felix Felicis? Veritaserum? Amortentia? Or perhaps…
“The Wolfsbane Potion,” Severus said softly.
His pronouncement drew gasps from the classroom.
“I think it is vital that Wolfsbane Potion stores do not run low, do you not agree?” Severus continued.
This, of course, was true.
Draco, who knew how expensive the ingredients for such a potion were, was looking at him with wide eyes. Severus could tell that Granger knew how complex the potion would be. And Potter, remarkably, was for once not glaring at him. Instead, there was… was that grudging respect?
Interesting.
“And I trust that you will all commit your utmost care and attention to ensure that your brewing is successful.” Severus said. He was met by determined nods.
Severus allowed his gaze to fall upon Draco, who was seated on the side of the room next to Terry Boot, and then on Weasley, who was sitting next to Potter, while Granger was sitting with Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff. Severus hoped that Draco would forgive him for what he had to say next.
“In order to ensure quality potion making,” Severus murmured, folding his arms. “I am going to allocate pairs. A mix of skills, and, in line with our Headmistress, to promote…” Severus gritted the words past his teeth, “Inter-House unity.”
In any other classroom, Severus was sure this would be met with groans. As it was though, the students merely gulped, and looked around quickly.
Severus cleared his throat. “Granger and Boot. Potter and Nott. Macmillan and Zabini. Weasley and Malfoy.”
This was met with uproar. Predictably.
“Wh—you can’t be serious, sir!” Draco burst out, shooting a glare at Weasley.
“Professor, you can’t—” Nott said in horror.
“Sneaking snake,” this was muttered by Macmillan.
Severus coughed, and the murmurs immediately died down.
He looked over the room once more, finding no more objections. “Ah. So if you are all ready to brew… let us begin. Directions for the most challenging sections are on the board,” Severus tapped the board, casting the non-verbal spell to cause his own personal instructions to appear, “I will take down the wards on the restricted ingredient cupboard,” a flourish of his wand and it was done, “you have fifty minutes… begin.”
There were groans (and glares) as the students settled in at their tables. Severus sat down at his desk to survey the group. He picked up his marking quill while covertly glancing to watch Weasley and Draco.
It appeared that Weasley had forgotten to bring his Potions book (idiot). But… Severus tilted his head thoughtfully. That meant that they both had to share Draco’s copy. They were now sitting close together at the bench, heads tilted together as Draco read over the list of ingredients.
Interesting.
Elsewhere in the room, Granger and Boot were already measuring out Mandrake leaves, and Potter was arguing with Nott over which cauldron to use—obviously copper, Potter, but Severus told himself not to intervene.
Though, it was very hard.
Instead, Severus watched how Weasley ran off to the store cupboard to start collecting ingredients, while Draco jotted some quick notes combining the instructions in the Potions book and Severus’ own notes. Very clever.
Severus returned to his marking while Draco rose to accompany Weasley in the storeroom, Macmillan started to juice Mandrake leaves, and as Potter crossed his arms sullenly while Nott smugly hefted a copper cauldron onto the workbench.
Severus made annotations on his marking while keeping any eye on the progress of his students.
Severus couldn’t keep back a smile as he saw Draco hastily stop Weasley from adding too many drops of Syrup of Hellebore, reaching out to catch Weasley’s hand. The two of them quickly separated, and then shot each other looks when they thought the other wasn’t looking.
Hmmm… very interesting.
The rest of the lesson passed in a flash of Granger admonishing Boot for his pouring techniques, Nott reluctantly admitting that Potter knew how to handle Sopophorous beans better than him (and when had that happened?) and Macmillan and Zabini actually chatting amiably as they carefully monitored the flames under their cauldron.
And as for Severus’ project—Weasley and Draco?
Well, Weasley was watching Draco with a lot of interest as he carefully crushed an Occamy egg and sprinkled it into the cauldron, his fingers deft and sure. And there was no mistaking the way Draco drew a breath when Weasley picked up his wand, fingers tightening around the length of Willow.
Hmmm.
By the end of the lesson, Severus stalked among his students, eyebrows raised despite himself. There was not much to criticise, not at all; some of the potions like Macmillan’s might not taste as good, due to the fumbling during the stirring process, but as the potion was impalatable at the best of times, that was not much to be concerned about, and the ingredients would work as they should.
Severus returned to the front of the room and all the students sat up straighter.
“Passable work,” Severus admitted grudgingly, and several students let out shaky breaths. “Now, bottle up the potions—carefully—so I can box them up for transport. You have… for once, scraped by on meeting my expectations. Do not let that go to your heads.”
Despite Severus’ warning, he saw several students smiling to each other in relief.
Oh, well.
Severus carefully ensured that all the bottles of Wolfsbane Potion were stored correctly, and dismissed the class.
He saw Potter clap Weasley on the back as they left, and watched how Draco snuck a look at them.
And then Severus stood himself, leaving for the office of the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.
Remus Lupin.
He had some plans in store…
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No one quite knew what had happened in the Battle of Hogwarts.
Lupin himself had been duelling the Death Eater Dolohov, and a number of spells had combined together in the air, striking Lupin and his wife Nymphadora, knocking them out cold. Their heartbeats had been so low, they had been considered dead.
But after the rest of the Death Eaters had moved further into the castle, Severus had stolen a quick moment to take Lupin’s hand in his.
And to the shock of his life, he had felt those fingers curl around his. Severus had hardly dared breathe. And he had known the risk that dawdling over a survivor would bring, telling himself he must not linger.
However as his own consciousness swept away, while sharing his memories with Potter, it had been the last thing his mind clung to.
Clung so desperately, that Potter had not seen it—not immediately, at least. The boy had—correctly—focused on the memories vital to the destruction of the Dark Lord’s Horcruxes. However after the Battle, Lily’s son had remembered the urgency in Severus’ eyes when he willed the boy to summon help, and had taken Poppy Pomfrey to Lupin and Nymphadora’s silent forms.
They had recovered, and spent long nights talking together.
And apparently…
Well, Severus still could not quite believe this part.
Lupin and his wife had talked between each other about who they truly loved. And apparently, although they loved and adored their son, their whole relationship had arisen during a wartime, when safety was suspect at the best of times, and the heart sought refuge and love however it could—even if such feelings calmed without the whirlwind of adrenaline. Lupin and his wife, though they still remained close, had since separated.
Of course, Severus had been out of action at this time. He only heard it second-hand, from his colleague Minerva.
And she had seemed very amused by Severus’ interest.
No matter.
Severus had made sure to keep to a strictly professional interaction since then.
He knocked on the door to Lupin’s office, then adjusted the fall of his cape, ensuring it was perfect.
The door opened, and Severus found himself staring at Lupin.
“Hello,” Severus said curtly.
“Severus,” Lupin replied. He took a half-step back, motioning Severus inside. “Do come in.”
“Thank you,” Severus said, sweeping past him, and into the room Severus himself had occupied. He seated himself in Lupin’s visitor chair, waiting for the man to join him.
“Tell me—to what do I owe this visit then, Severus?” Lupin asked, leaning back in his chair.
“A problem,” Severus said with a wry smile. “Between a Gryffindor and a Slytherin. I am in a situation where two dunderheads are not admitting their feelings for each other. And I think it would be best that this situation is resolved… I am sure you would agree?”
A slight flush spread across Lupin’s cheeks. “Excuse me?”
Severus gave a light cough. “Weasley. And… Draco. The two are butting heads more and more. And I am convinced that a foolish crush is the cause.”
“Oh, I see,” Lupin said. His fingers tapped on his desk. “Of course.”
Severus let out a sigh. “Weasley has all the emotional intelligence of a slug. And I fear he will continue to… attempt to flirt with Draco in his appalling way without any success. And Draco is more of a man to be wooed with flowers rather than embarrassment. Do you see the issue?”
Lupin let out a low laugh. “Oh, clearly. And of course, if Ronald continues down this path, he risks enraging young Mr Malfoy. I see your concern.”
Severus sat back. “We both do not want any further excessive conflict between our Houses. And if the two of them continue this way… I fear that Gryffindor and Slytherin will end the year at the bottom of the House Point Leaderboard.”
Lupin nodded slowly. “So what do you suggest?”
“I believe that Mr Weasley requires some assistance in his courting of Draco. For all our sakes,” Severus said.
Lupin let out a laugh. “My, my, Severus. I never would have believed it before but… I suppose people change. Well, I applaud your efforts for Inter-House unity. And… what do you want from me?”
“Gryffindors are loud, boorish, and ultimately, idiotic. You somehow, though, possess a modicum of intelligence,” Severus said, drawing a wry smile from Lupin. “So I thought perhaps you could assist me… on what would work to get a Slytherin and a Gryffindor student to admit their feelings for each other.”
“My own efforts though,” Lupin said quietly. “Have not always been successful in matters of the heart.”
“Please,” Severus snorted. “Anyone could know that you and Nymphadora were not meant to be. She is loud, affectionate, charming, and from a large family who have always lauded her. And you are…” Severus broke off, realising that his words were not exactly flattering. “Well, not.”
“More of a… lone wolf,” Lupin said quietly. He rapped his fingers on the table again.
“There is nothing wrong with being solitary,” Severus said. “And nor with being a wolf.”
Lupin tilted his head. “Something that you addressed in your lesson, apparently.”
“Where did you hear that?” Severus said, aiming for his usual steady voice.
Lupin just lifted a causal shoulder. “Students talk. Anyway… what did you have in mind?”
“Oh? For Weasley and Draco. Right. Well, aside from having Weasley’s… respect…” Severus said slowly, “you are now the Head of the House of Gryffindor, given that Minerva is Headmistress. So you are responsible for assigning punishment—like for Weasley’s provocation earlier today, is that correct?”
Lupin inclined his head. “Indeed I am.”
“Have you meted out punishment yet?”
“I took house points from Gryffindor and told him to meet me in my office after class,” Lupin replied.
Severus sat back again. “Perfect. Draco will be serving detention this evening—and for the following four days. I suggest we have them do detention together. Proximity to one another like this will give us ample opportunity to give them both a nudge.”
A rogueish smile lit Lupin’s lips. “I can hardly believe we are even doing this but… let us see what we can do.”
Severus inclined his head, using the opportunity to look away from the startingly joyous look on Lupin’s face. It did not do well to brood on how much it suited Lupin…
Nor on how it made Severus feel, having been the one to put it there…
Severus stood, clearing his throat. “So, we will start their detention tonight,” he said, striding to the door. “Fortunately, I have a whole host of tasks which I can set for them… and encourage a bit of closer work between them.”
“May I check how it went… and come to see you afterward?” Lupin asked quickly, as Severus made his way to the door.
Severus froze, his hand on the doorhandle. Then he gathered himself, and nodded. “Certainly. You are welcome any time.”
Then he looked back once more at those beautiful features that make his heart race—the trace of a scar on his cheek, the hazel eyes, and the laugh lines bracketing them, despite all he had suffered—before leaving as swiftly and stealthily as he could.
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After dinner, there was a sharp knock on the door to Severus’ office. Severus leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.
“Come in,” he called in a low voice. The door was pushed open and Draco poked his head in.
Severus waved for him to come and sit down, and Draco had just seated himself and opened his mouth to speak, when a second knock sounded on the door.
Draco looked at Severus with a little frown of confusion.
Oh, poor boy.
Severus couldn’t quite keep back a smirk.
This time, Severus stood and walked over to the door, drawing it open.
There, at his office, was a red-haired boy, his shirt untucked, and freckles dotted carelessly across his face.
Perfect.
Or, well, if not perfect—honestly, Weasley could stand to tuck in his shirt—at least, here.
Severus indicated the boy to enter with a jerk of his head, and Weasley swallowed before walking deeper into the room.
Severus swept past him as Weasley sat down, contemplating the two boys in front of him.
“You two,” he said softly, “are going to be serving two weeks detention. Together. And you will learn to get along. For all of our sakes.”
Blue and silver eyes darted across to look across before quickly flitting away.
Severus brought the tips of his fingers together. “Mr Malfoy, you will exercise some of that self-control you possess and not be infuriated by Mr Weasley’s existence.”
Draco’s foot twitched, but he nodded.
Severus turned to Weasley. “And Mr Weasley, you will stop acting like a dunderhead.”
Weasley gulped and gave a jerk of his head.
“Excellent,” Severus continued. “Come with me.”
And with that, Severus rose and led the way out to the Potions classroom, the two Eighth-years following along behind him.
When they arrived in the Potions classroom, Severus directed Weasley and Draco to the bench at the front. The two students demurely took their seats while Severus walked over to the potions ingredient store room. Ah, yes. The room was in utter chaos—as usual—and would be the perfect site for Severus’ first plan.
He called the two students over.
“As you can see,” Severus began, indicating with a careless hand at the dishevelled ingredients lying all over the benchtop, and the glass jars haphazard on their sides, “the ingredients room requires a little attention. I want you to ensure that everything is put back in place and properly labelled—perhaps Mr Malfoy should be the one to do this. Your writing is appalling, Weasley. The common ingredients are on the lower shelves, rare ingredients in the side cupboard,” Severus unlocked the cupboard once more with his wand, before resuming, “and the less commonly used ones are stored higher up. There is a step-ladder in the corner. Any questions, ask Mr Malfoy, who is more familiar with how I prefer the room layout, after your previous Potions Master, Horace Slughorn, messed everything up.”
A smirk crossed Draco’s lips and Weasley actually nodded grimly.
Maybe there was hope for them after all, Severus thought with an amused snort. Then he raised his voice again. “I will return in one hour to assess your progress. Begin.”
And then he swept from the room, muttering about having ‘too much to do’—although this was merely an excuse, as he had further plans to enact.
After leaving the Potions Classroom, Severus immediately headed to his own office. There, he rushed over to his own storecupboard. This was where he stored the most valuable and important ingredients and where he did his own brewing. He opened the cupboard and surveyed the contents, eyes passing over Joberknoll Feathers, Occamy eggs, mistletoe and Unicorn Horns until… there! Severus’ hand dashed out to pick up the jar of Flobberworm mucus.
He settled the bottle in the pocket of his robes with a smirk.
Then he took out the evening paper to have a good read, taking enjoyment in completing the Cryptic Crossword, before checking his watch when fifteen minutes remained of the boys’ detention. Then he made his way swiftly but quietly down the corridors, until he slipped inside the Potions Classroom, and peered at the Potions storeroom.
Draco was leaning elegantly against the wall, fingers hooked lazily around a number of glass jars. Weasley repositioned the step-ladder, then motioned for Draco to climb up. Severus watched as Draco climbed the ladder, then started to slide jars into place, before turning back to Weasley to collect more jars.
Severus had to hold back a snort as he realised that Weasley was taking advantage of the situation to oogle Draco’s arse.
Severus then carefully unscrewed the lid of the Flobberworm mucus, and levitated out a hint of the sludge. While he was doing this painstaking task, Weasley gasped, and Severus looked up abruptly, but apparently it was just that Draco grabbed a handful of bottles at a time, and not that Weasley had spilled anything. Severus then focused on his wand movements to cast a flick at his target for the Flobberworm mucus… the ladder rung. Now, when Draco took just one step to the side, his feet would slip, and then Weasley—Gryffindor that he was—could catch Draco in his arms, and voilà! Gratitude and respect from Draco, and Weasley looking—miraculously—like a hero.
Severus was a genius, if he could say so himself.
But… Severus frowned. Draco had moved slightly on the ladder—along the rung that Severus was sure was now coated in the slippery ingredient—but nothing was happening.
What?
And nothing else happened—other than Draco stretching even higher on his toes to place the last bottle, and Weasley biting down very hard on his lower lip. But then Draco was climbing down from the ladder with no issue at all, and the two of them inspected the work surface together.
“Should be good enough,” Draco said softly, a slight hit of a flush in his cheeks. “I can’t be arsed to do anything else. My hand’s aching.”
“Well, your handwriting is really neat,” Weasley said, and Draco’s flush deepened.
“Uh… thanks?”
Severus decided to intervene while Weasley was ahead.
He knocked on the door, and pushed it open, surveying the surprisingly tidy room, with bottles stacked neatly, with Draco’s elegant writing clearly labelling the ingredients for easy finding.
Severus allowed a note of positivity. “Hmmm. Not abysmal. Very well boys. You may go.”
Draco gave a deferential nod, which Weasley hastily copied, and then the two boys were fleeing from the room.
Severus stepped into the room, allowing his eyes to sweep over the now-tidy storeroom with grudging approval.
So he wasn’t much of a matchmaker… but he did have a lovely storeroom, just as he liked it. That would do for tonight.
Severus locked up the room, and then headed for his office. But just as he was arriving, he spotted Lupin approaching.
“Lupin!” Severus exclaimed. “What are you—”
And then Severus’ arms pinwheeled around him as his foot slipped.
What?!?!?
Severus’ robes flared around him while the room spun. But then he was caught in a pair of strong arms, and all of a sudden he was gazing at Lupin, who was half-kneeling on the floor.
“Apologies, Lupin,” Severus managed to gasp out, as he slipped an arm around Lupin’s shoulders—only to help him stand up, Severus thought to himself quickly.
Never mind that they were very nice shoulders indeed.
“No problem at all, Severus,” Lupin said back, and then he actually smiled.
Smiled!
At Severus!
Severus looked hastily down at his shoes before he could break out into a flush—he would not do such a schoolboy thing, thank you very much, he was older and more mature than Draco!
As he did, his eyes caught on the tell-tale sheen that dripped from the hem of his robe.
Severus sighed. “Oh no. The Flobberworm mucus. That’s where it went.”
Lupin looked cautiously amused. “Hmmm?”
Severus lost the battle, his cheeks heating. “I tried to get Draco to fall into Weasley’s arms by slipping on Flobberworm mucus but, uh, it did not work.”
“Well, allow me to help with your robes,” Lupin said, kneeling in front of Severus. “I know you always maintain the utmost poise, and woe betide anyone who would say otherwise.”
And then before Severus could do anything, Lupin delicately lifted the hem of Severus’ robe, and brought out his wand, murmuring, “Tergeo.”
The spell left Severus’ robe unblemished and perfect.
“Well… ‘til next time,” Lupin said, rising to his feet.
“Good night, Professor Lupin. And… thank you,” Severus said stiffly.
“Good night,” Lupin responded, before lifting his hand in a salute, and departing the corridor.
Severus unlocked his office and stepped inside. Then he leaned back against the door and let out a breath.
Who knew matchmaking was so finicky?
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The next day, Severus had to contend with First-years; not that he has a problem with them, of course, but some of them could be so idiotic, curious about what Foxglove tastes like (it’s poisonous, so better not to find out), or not being able to remember the ingredients of the Forgetfulness Potion (and Severus had to sigh at the deep irony).
And then after that, he had arranged for revision work on the Shrinking Solution for the Fourth-years’ lesson, and he caught some of the Hufflepuff boys attempting to smuggle a sample out of the classroom, who confessed they were going to use it as a prank.
That earned them a thirty house point deduction, which wiped the smirks off their faces nicely.
But by the time it was 8pm and Draco and Weasley were due for detention, Severus was regretting ever assigning the reprisal.
He wasn’t supposed to be punished!
But needs must, so Severus steeled himself to go to the potions classroom, and not sit at his desk with a nice Firewhiskey.
When Severus arrived at the Potions Classroom, Weasley was out of breath, bracing himself on the desk. He’d clearly run down from Gryffindor Tower, worried about being late.
Severus allowed himself a little smirk.
He felt a bit better already.
“So,” Severus said, causing Weasley to jump into the air, flushed, “now that we are all here… it is time for your second detention.”
Severus strode to the front of the classroom. “I need you to sort and correctly store the Jobberknoll feathers I received today. As you should be aware,” Severus glanced at Weasley, who was looking at him with a thunderstruck expression, clearly not aware of the proper handling of these ingredients. Severus covered up a snicker, and continued. “They must be kept in perfect, pristine condition. Any bend or twist in the feathers will dilute their effect. So the feathers in the package must be assessed, handled carefully, charmed back to their original shape if necessary, and stored perfectly.”
Severus summoned the package, which landed with a thump on the potions workbench.
Weasley and Draco eyed it with trepidation.
“I will return to check your progress in an hour,” Severus said. “I sincerely hope you will finish the task on time, and not be required to stay late. If you delay me, then I fear you will suffer my… displeasure.”
Weasley looked appropriately worried at that, and Severus turned around to head back to his office.
Maybe he would be able to have that celebratory Firewhiskey, after all.
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Severus adjourned to his office, where he poured himself a tumbler of Firewhiskey, and sat down to enjoy some tunes on the Wireless.
Fortunately, Vivaldi was playing through the speakers, and Severus drank deeply, enjoying the music of the wizard—and honestly, he was a wizard in all senses of the word; magical and musical.
Severus listened with his eyes closed as the whirlwind of music surrounded him, wondering how things were going in the dungeons.
Joberknoll feathers—iridescent blue plumes which formed the vital ingredient in Truth Serums—would perhaps loosen Weasley’s lips enough to encourage a heartfelt confession. Of course for any truly compelling effect, they must be ingested, but the loose brush of feathers and close companionship with his love interest over a whole hour might just be the thing to coax Weasley’s Gryffindor courage into making a declaration of his feelings.
Urrgh.
Severus nearly spat out his whiskey.
He did not want to think that long about Weasley and feelings.
No, Severus far appreciated those with substance. Those who, yes, were brave and courageous, but who also were thoughtful, intelligent, intriguing.
“And now, as the hour draws to a close, we will move on to Mozart…” the Wireless intoned.
Severus hastily placed his tumbler back on the table. Oh, damn—the hour was finishing! He had to go and check on Weasley and Draco!
Severus quickly strode from his office, the vibrant melodies still soaring in his mind.
When he arrived at the dungeons, he paused near the door.
There was a hushed murmur of voices, and Severus was cautious as he eased the door open, not wanting to interrupt a potentially emotionally charged moment.
But all he could see was Weasley carefully laying a quill into the waiting jar, while Draco murmured the incantation to brush a final feather to a perfect polish, the delicate blue hues winking in the light.
Unfortunately, the door to the classroom squeaked, and Weasley turned around, letting out a yell.
Honestly.
Severus was half-amused but also half-exasperated—because did Weasley not call himself a brave and true Gryffindor?
But Severus was pulled out of his musings when he saw that Weasley’s loud outburst had surprised Draco, who let go of the Joberknoll feather in surprise.
The blue feather gently drifted to the ground, its shining plumes twinkling as its fate of ending up on the grimy floor grew closer and closer—
“Accio!” Severus called, the feather being whisked to his hand.
Severus let out a sigh of relief as the glorious feather slid into his waiting fingers.
Then he narrowed his eyes at Weasley. “Weasley! What idiot is startled by the very Professor in whose room you sit?!”
Weasley gulped. “Sorry, Professor. Sir.”
Weasley’s face grew very red, until it almost matched his hair.
Job done sufficiently punishing Weasley, Severus made his way over to the desk, where he carefully lay the feather into the waiting jar.
He then turned back to the two boys, almost wondering if he would catch them looking longingly at each other. They looked more comfortable in each others’ presence, however there was nothing of the sort.
And then Severus realised that they both were wearing dragonhide gloves. As they must have been for the whole hour handling the feathers, no doubt to counteract any potential dust or liquid transfer from the job of cleaning the plumes.
Well, no dramatic love confessions today, then.
Severus sighed. “Alright. You are dismissed.”
Weasley jumped up almost at once, dashing out of the room. Evidently he was still worried Severus was going to punish him for losing composure.
Severus snorted.
At least something would make him feel better today.
Draco packed up more methodically, then parted with a respectful, “Sir.” Severus extinguished the lights in the classroom, then locked the door, heading to the higher floors.
He’d decided that he might have a late-night snack from the kitchens, and was just thinking about the delicious black forest cake the house-elves were known for when—
“Lupin!”
Severus managed to stop himself just as he was about to turn the corner and plough right into the DADA Professor.
“Severus!” the man said, his eyes warm. “I don’t usually see you in the upper floors, to what do I owe the occasion?”
Severus was hardly going to admit that he was there for a midnight snack—not very mysterious or scholarly at all, was it?—but to his surprise he found himself confessing, “the black forest cake. It is… simply marvelous.”
Lupin gave a slow nod. “Why certainly, I agree. I always do appreciate good chocolate.”
And then the two of them were sharing a soft smile in the corridor.
“Well, don’t let me keep you,” Severus said quickly, aware that Lupin had only a long cloak thrown on top of his pyjamas. Unprofessional and yet still absurdly sweet…
“Oh, of course—your dessert awaits. Good night, Severus.”
“Good night, Lupin. And… it was very good to see you.” The words slipped out of Severus’ mouth before he could stop them.
Stupid, Severus thought to himself. Stupid, and impulsive, and rash.
But Lupin just smiled at him, before bidding him good night and disappearing down the corridor.
Severus gave himself a moment to recover.
He supposed that seeing a smile like that was worth the flustered moment of vulnerability. And he couldn’t keep back a small smile the rest of the night, as he made his way to the kitchens to enjoy his midnight treat, or as he slid into his bed, turning onto his side, eyelids fluttering closed that night.
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Severus was in a much better mood the next day.
He didn’t even interrupt when the Lovegood girl came with Lupin to the Professor’s table, talking about how her garlic-bulb necklace had repelled Rufus Scrimgeour at Albus Dumbledore’s funeral (when Severus, who had been lurking behind the trees, knew fully well that Scrimgeour had merely been making his hurried way over to Harry Potter).
He merely took a sip of Earl Grey tea while Lupin smiled at the girl kindly, assuring her, “Well, if you’re around any vampires, that certainly is a very good technique.”
While Lovegood skipped away to the Ravenclaw table, Severus managed to avoid choking on his tea. But only just.
“Something amusing, Severus?” Lupin asked as he slid into the chair next to Severus.
Hmmm.
This was new.
They were… collegial, yes, but were not usually amicable, and rarely sat together.
Not that Severus had any objections.
“Well,” Severus said, “I would hate to get in the way of your friendship with the students, so I’ll refrain from saying anything. Besides,” he added, as they watched Lovegood cast a spell on some flowers adorning the table, turning them into a wreath that she placed delightedly atop her tumbling blonde locks, “I think you would look lovely with a matching flower crown.”
This time, Lupin let out a bark of laughter as his mouth curved into a grin, his eyes bright and striking. It was altogether so different from how Severus usually saw him that he had to clear his throat hurriedly before he blurted out anything foolish.
“Well, speaking of looking lovely,” Lupin said, dropping his voice to a whisper, “I do think Ron is trying to make an effort for our dear Slytherin.”
Severus looked across at the Gryffindor table curiously. And it was true, Weasley was making an effort to sit straight and tall for once, shoulders thrown back, and his shirt was actually tucked in for once. “Hmmm…” Severus couldn’t help saying. “He may just have a chance.”
“And…” Lupin said slowly, “is there anything else a Gryffindor might do, to encourage romance to blossom between, er, himself and a Slytherin?”
Severus thought to himself, while he watched Weasley some more. “Well, Slytherins do value intelligence. Not that it’s Weasley’s strong suit, but he does show some aptitude towards cleverness and planning. After all, he did successfully beat Minerva’s Transfigured chess set once on one of his… extra-curricular excursions. And he did manage to work out how to defeat the last of the Dark Lord’s Horcruxes using Basilisk Fangs from the Chamber of Secrets, and managed to make his way there despite not being a Parselmouth. Quite brilliant, actually…”
“Right,” Lupin said, who seemed to be taking this very seriously. “Intelligence is valued… what else?”
“Dedication,” Severus said immediately. “To a cause, or to their family. Hmm… I do suppose that Weasley has also shown himself dedicated in the end, after he had to weigh up conflicting loyalties to his family and to the hunt for Horcruxes… similar to Draco in fact, who had to balance fear for his family, with horror at the Dark Lord’s plans. They would certainly understand each other on that, and I’m sure they both hold family in high esteem.”
“Noted,” Lupin said. “And… what of blood status? Is it true that… all Slytherins covet only those of pure blood?”
Severus couldn’t keep back a murmur of amusement. “Oh, Lupin, of course that is not correct. While traditional pureblood families may seek to make matches between others of so-called ‘pure blood’, many merely wish for their families to wed those from the same wizarding background. Besides, Weasley is pureblooded in the tradition of the word, but I doubt Lucius would approve.” Severus could not help a wince at thinking of his school friend with all his prejudices learning that a Weasley—a Weasley!—of all people wished to court his son. “But in any case, Lucius is old-fashioned and I do applaud Arthur for taking a stand on what’s really important—welcoming those who belong into the magical word, not just those born into it. And I could hardly claim to only desire a partner who is a pureblood, given I am a half-blood myself… I trust that has helped somewhat to answer your questions?”
“Oh, a great deal,” Lupin said, sending Severus a smile. “Thank you. It was very informative. And very welcome to hear.”
Severus took a quick sip of his tea before he could blurt anything out. Such as ‘What would a Gryffindor want, if a Slytherin were interested?’
After all, Lupin was interested in women. Having had a wife was pretty clear evidence of this… wasn’t it?
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Fortunately, Severus’ classes required that he focus his full attention on his students, as he set his Fifth-years the task of making the Draught of Peace—desperately fiddly to make, and requiring excellent technique—and taught the Fourth-years about poisons and antidotes.
He managed to successfully oversee both classes, though he did forget to threaten a poisoning on the Fourth-years—his old standby to ensure they were paying attention—and the students left his class with huge smiles on their faces, chattering about how ‘That class wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought!’ and ‘Ha! Harry and Ron were totally wrong about Professor Snape!’ by the time Severus realised that he hadn’t actually dropped his usual little hints about whether his hand would slip over any of the students’ drinks.
Damn it.
But anyway, Severus thought to himself in a huff, as he strode back to the Potions Classroom after dinner, there were always other ways to make the students fear him.
At least when Severus arrived at the corridor leading to the classroom, Weasley immediately stood up straighter, his face turning white. Ah. Much better.
Severus unlocked the door and gestured for Weasley to enter.
When Weasley stepped inside though, he stopped. “Er… isn’t Malfoy here?” he asked, a definite quiver to his voice.
“Given that I had to unlock the door, Weasley,” Severus said slowly, “he is not here quite yet. There are still a few minutes to go until 8 o’clock, by which time he would be late if he has not arrived. However, until then, it is just us.”
Weasley gulped, his face growing even paler.
Severus managed not to laugh to himself as he took his place at the front of the room.
Fortunately, Weasley seemed to fear him just fine.
Draco arrived not half a minute later, and Weasley actually shot him a look of gratitude.
Draco looked perplexed by this, but also pleased—if the pink blooming in his cheeks was anything to go by.
Severus now, though, had the perfect idea for their detention. Earlier that day, Professor Sprout had asked her class of Sixth-years to collect knotgrass and fluxweed, and then arranged for one of her students to deliver the box of the supplies to Severus. Unfortunately, the Hufflepuff student who had delivered them had actually shrieked when he caught sight of Severus, and dropped the box on the ground before hastily running away down the corridor. (This had made Severus feel better, and that his legacy of terror did indeed continue at Hogwarts).
However the box was now undoubtedly all mixed up.
Of course, Severus could sort the ingredients with a wave of his wand, but why not ask Weasley to do a trivial task? After all, if he was serious about Draco, he’d have to be able to deal with pouting episodes and keeping his calm.
It was perfect.
And the fact that, traditionally, knotgrass was important in hand-fasting rituals to bind two souls to one another?
(Not that Weasley would know this; Potions travesty that he was).
But Draco would know, and watching him squirm with this knowledge would be so amusing.
Severus motioned for Weasley and Draco to follow him to the storeroom, where he levitated the box onto the step-ladder.
“Now,” Severus said curtly, glaring at Weasley. “Something that even an imbecile should know how to do. Separating fluxweed from knotgrass. Knotgrass has many, ah, important uses, as I’m sure you will agree, Weasley…”
Severus trailed off, daring Weasley to disagree with him.
Weasley played right into his hands, saying quickly, “Er, yes, of course, Professor. Vital.”
“Even in non Potions use,” Severus pushed. “Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Absolutely,” Weasley replied hurriedly.
Severus allowed himself a small smirk. Next to him, Draco was blushing, and steadfastly not looking at Weasley.
“So,” Severus continued, “I would like you to do this vital task, by hand. I will check on your progress in an hour.”
With that, Severus gave one final challenging stare to Weasley, and swept from the room.
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Severus decided to check in with his Prefects after that—meeting the Fifth-years to ensure that they were having no problems with their tasks, and asking them to watch out for students who may have been picked on by students of other Houses. Severus’ Prefects reported back that they were keeping up with their duties and that all of the young Slytherins were feeling safe and welcomed, helped by the Eighth year Gryffindors— spearheaded by Potter, Weasley, and Granger, actually—who told their fellow students about the importance of unity in the school.
So all in all, Severus was in a very good mood when he returned to the dungeons later to check on Weasley and Draco.
When Severus arrived, he could hear the low murmur of voices as he approached the classroom.
“…you sure we sorted everything? Seems like too easy a detention for Snape.”
“Oh…” Severus could hear Draco’s hesitating tones. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly.”
Weasley snorted. “Sorting out ingredients? Far from the most difficult thing he’s ever asked. I once had to scrub the bedpans in the Hospital wing for detention. But this? Why, it’s a paradise by comparison.”
Severus threw open the door before Weasley could get too cocky and continue that line of talk. Ah, excellent, Weasley immediately sat up straighter at his desk, though his shoulders hunched protectively.
Draco had grown even redder at Weasley’s words, and Severus allowed himself an amusedly raised eyebrow, which caused Draco to hastily look away, heat filling his cheeks.
Oh, this was turning out to be such a good day.
Severus made his way to the storeroom to see the ingredients beautifully separated and labelled in Draco’s elegant handwriting. Severus nodded in satisfaction and raised his wand to levitate the ingredients to their proper place, before heading out to the main room.
“Adequate,” Severus declared, at which Weasley’s shoulders loosened slightly. “Shall we head along now for the night?”
Weasley and Draco nodded, and Severus locked up the classroom behind them.
He had one more task that evening—to meet with Minerva, and pass on his Perfects’ report.
However, when Severus was about to part from Draco and take the corridor up to the higher floors, he noticed a flash of green between Draco’s fingers.
“Draco…” Severus said softly. “What is that?”
Draco flushed again, his fingers stilling around the stem of a plant.
Severus held out an expectant hand.
And then Draco dropped the stem of knotgrass into it.
“I… I was just—” Draco said quickly, while Severus held up a hand.
“I do not want to know,” Severus said hurriedly. Oh, he could imagine already. Weasley had probably passed him this plant, and Draco had kept it, as such gestures were considered romantic in pureblood families. A flirtatious gift about blossoming affection and the potential of a future together.
Severus’ eyes ran over Draco again, who was still very red.
And it was true that such a small amount of knotgrass was hardly likely to assist in one of its other main uses—making alcohol. But the fact remained that he could not allow Draco to bring it to Slytherin House.
Severus cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, Draco, but I cannot let you take this back to the common room. I simply could not in good faith allow you to take it back where there are underage wixen, when the use of knotgrass in making mead is well-known.”
Draco nodded, face still very red. “I—of course, Professor.”
“Although,” Severus dared to say, his voice a bit stilted, “do not think that I disparage of Gryffindor-Slytherin ties.”
Draco actually grinned at that. “Oh, do not worry, Professor. I am under no such impression, and I think… neither is Professor Lupin.”
Obviously Draco was far too clever for his own good.
“Oh?” Severus said, aiming for a lofty tone. “Well, Heads of Houses must, indeed, attempt to maintain amicable links to the other Houses.”
Draco just nodded knowingly, though he still had too much amusement in his grey eyes. “Gryffindor and Slytherin, certainly could benefit from closer ties above all, I suppose? Anyway, good night then, Professor.”
“Good night, Draco,” Severus said, before continuing his way along the corridor.
Severus ran into Lupin on the way to Minerva’s office. Of course, Lupin must have been making his own report on Gryffindor House.
“Good evening, Lupin,” Severus said with a smile.
After all, it was important to be cordial between Heads of Houses, was it not?
Lupin appeared surprised but pleased, as he smiled in greeting. “Good evening, Severus. I hope you and Slytherin House are well.”
“We will be, just as soon as I make my report to Minerva,” Severus said.
And then, feeling a daring emotion rising, Severus brought out the sprig of knotgrass from his robe pocket.
“A gift, Lupin, for you,” Severus said, presenting it to Lupin.
The DADA Professor took it, a half smile growing on his face. “Why, I’m not the Potions Master, but thank you, Severus.”
Severus merely inclined his head, though he could still feel the sparks from where their hands had brushed. “You are most welcome. And good night.”
Lupin’s answering “Goodnight” along with his growing smile as he tucked away the knotgrass stayed in Severus’ mind long after.
But after all, who said Gryffindors were the only ones who could be chivalrous and brave?
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When Severus arrived at the breakfast table the next morning, there were no free seats next to Lupin, so Severus sat next to Pomona Sprout, who immediately began talking to him about the harvesting she was planning for the school’s Shrivelfigs. Severus found his eyes flitting to Lupin, wondering if he knew the significance of the gesture with the knotgrass. Did he know its romantic meaning? Did he feel what Severus felt?
But Severus wasn’t to discover it, as his attention was almost immediately called away by the arrival of Rubeus Hagrid.
“S’cuse me, Professor,” Rubeus said, attempting to lower his voice, but only making it so that the nearest three people heard his voice, rather than the nearest five. “Wondered if you’d come look at something with me.”
Oh, dear. Something that Rubeus couldn’t handle?
But—
“Of course, Rubeus,” Severus said swiftly. “Tell me what we are dealing with, right away.”
Severus and Rubeus swept out of the Great Hall, and Severus was aware of Lupin lifting his eyes to gaze after him. But Severus couldn’t focus on that, as Rubeus quickly told him about a disturbance to the unicorns in the Forbidden Forest.
Severus had always felt a kinship to the skittish creatures which Rubeus knew about; and they rushed to Severus’ office to collect supplies in case they were needed—bandages, tinctures, and healing potions.
It took most of the morning to find the unicorn herd—the creatures were after all not known for making themselves easy to find—however it turned out that they had collected in an area of unusual shadows—the woods fell quiet, the air was eerie, and darkness seemed to overcome the golden sunshine that filtered in from overleaf.
Severus and Rubeus assured themselves that none of the unicorn herd was actually injured. But they kept throwing nervous looks to the ground, tossing their manes and not allowing any of the young to prance towards the middle of the clearing.
“Unusual, hmm?” Rubeus said in a soft voice.
Severus nodded sharply.
He cast a number of spells, to assess for the presence of anyone watching, check for Dark magical residue, and to purify the air.
However all he could find was a trace of shadowy webs drawing the caster to the centre of the clearing.
He approached cautiously, wand raised, until his boot nudged something hidden in the bark.
Then, he knelt carefully on the forest floor, lifting his wand. He whispered a levitation charm, curious as to what was in the centre of the glade, and so spooking the mystical unicorns, themselves the very creatures of magic.
It was a stone of some sort—innocuous in nature, small, black, with roughened edges.
And yet…
Severus looked closer, at the rough-hewn lines on it, and at how the unicorn herd drew back, falling into silence.
“Must be Dark,” Rubeus said in a low voice, standing protectively in front of the herd.
Severus felt like he was looking down on the scene, hand clutching tightly to his wand.
And he remembered what the DADA Professor had told him, about how Potter had run up to him after the war, holding Lupin tight, and heart heavy with loss.
Lupin had whispered, “He saw us standing there… myself, Sirius, James and Lily. In the forest, before the end. He did not believe I had survived, and thought that he had been accompanied by companions already on the other side of the Veil.”
Lupin then sighed.
“Nothing can truly wake the dead. We were mere apparitions. A comfort, to ease the descent to the close. But the power of that stone was to make one believe.”
Severus fought to keep his voice still. “It appears so, Rubeus. But please, beckon one of the herd over. I think that they have drawn us over here for a reason.”
Rubeus coaxed one of the taller unicorns to accompany him to the centre of the glade. And then, Severus lowered the stone to rest back on the forest floor.
A combination of Incendio plus the strike of the unicorn’s hoof managed to split the stone, and from that instant, the sunlight seemed to spread further, and the wind whispered through the trees. Rubeus and Severus breathed easier, and the unicorns pranced off into the trees, until all that remained was the sunbeams dazzling from their hooves, as they sprinted deeper into their home.
Severus heaved a huge sigh and looked up at Rubeus. “I hope now the forest only has its own secrets left.”
Rubeus smiled fondly. “Oh, I’m sure there’s plenty left in its wake.”
Oh, Salazar. Well, that was fine… so long as Rubeus was happy to be the forest’s guardian, and not Severus!
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The morning’s expedition—and the hike back out of the Forbidden Forest, where the centaur Ronan proclaimed that Uridim was shining particularly brightly—meant that Severus arrived back at the castle very late. He only had five minutes to quickly grab some cheese and cucumber sandwiches right at the end of lunch.
Severus still felt a bit shaky when it was time for afternoon classes.
So he decided to conduct a theory lesson for his Third-years, because they historically struggled with his essays on Undetectable Poisons, and yes, because that would give him a chance to recover before he had to oversee eager young students who could potentially make an explosive concoction at any time, requiring him to intervene.
By the time class was finished, Severus was feeling better.
It didn’t hurt that he had also kept his storeroom from being messed up and could be assured that it remained in its perfect, pristine condition.
So by the time Weasley and Draco’s detention was drawing near, Severus felt like his old self.
And he had the perfect idea for their detention.
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Weasley’s eyes darted over to Severus, and the Gryffindor student swallowed.
He seemed like he wasn’t sure whether Severus was serious, or whether Severus was actually waiting to spring one big trap on him.
“You want us to…”
“Sort mistletoe berries, yes,” Severus said mildly.
Draco was now flushing about as much as Weasley’s Gryffindor scarf.
“Uh,” Weasley said delicately. “That—I wasn’t quite…”
“Best get to the task, Weasley,” Severus said, “rather than attempt to finish that hopeless sentence. As you would know,” or should know, Severus thought to himself, “these berries are a vital ingredient in the Antidote to Common Poisons. And it would not do for someone attempting to brew the potion to have to use spoiled ingredients, which would interfere with the action of the potion.”
“I… right,” Weasley said, though his face was very red.
“I shall return in an hour,” Severus said, checking his watch. He expected the job to be finished in three quarters of that time. “Tarry not.”
Then he departed the classroom, unable to hold back a grin.
Hah. If this didn’t help their feelings along, nothing could!
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While waiting for the two students to complete their detention, Severus decided to go to the Library to discuss with Madam Pince the latest Potions journals that had been published, and request that they be added to the library. Fortunately, the woman was scholarly like Severus, and she immediately drew out a quill and parchment, making notations and nodding her head. They also got on quite well because they both had the same attitude towards students, and did not tolerate boorish behaviour. She assured him that she would make the orders a priority.
Severus was in a very good mood when he walked back from the library, and ran into… Lupin.
Severus smiled, but he also couldn’t help saying, “Do you have another map of yours, showing my location?”
Lupin merely lifted a brow, his eyes twinkling. “Ah, I could never divulge secrets like that, Severus. But Lady Fortune must have brought us together tonight.”
Severus’ mind inadvertently went back to the centaurs. “Umidin has been particularly bright…”
“Well, I am happy to report that as we speak Weasley and Draco are sorting mistletoe,” Severus said. “Presumably, even Weasley can take a hint.”
Lupin stepped even closer. The fondness on his face made him look so much younger. “Severus, why I can hardly believe that it’s you I’m talking to. Are you sure you aren’t Miss Lovegood after drinking Polyjuice?”
“Oh, if I were I would be spouting some nonsense about Nargles,” Severus said.
Lupin spoke in a soft voice. “And you really believe everyone is worthy of love?”
A dangerous topic. Severus himself had done so much wrong. But Severus looked deeper into Lupin’s hazel eyes.
“I believe that so long as someone is seeking to make amends, then yes. And you?”
Lupin nodded. “If I may be so bold… I believe we both have been doing what we can to make amends.”
A delicate flutter in Severus’ tummy.
“And do you… do you see a possible romantic future?”
Lupin’s face was gorgeous as he smiled. He drew back his cloak, revealing a sprig of knotgrass tucked into the buttonhole of his shirt! “Definitely, I do.”
And that was all it took, before they were reaching for each other, lips meeting in a desperate kiss, arms winding around each other in the darkened corridor.
It was… scandalous, and enticing, and Severus could not believe he could be so lucky.
When they drew back, Lupin was still looking at him fondly. “Severus, I… I hope you know how deeply I care for you. Despite however long it has taken us to get to this step… I’m in it, until the end.”
“Until the end,” Severus repeated. “As am I.”
He allowed Lupin one more kiss before his brain caught up with him.
“As much as I would love to continue,” Severus said, still allowing his fingers to stroke Lupin’s robe-tattered shoulder, “I have to go and release Weasley from detention, sometime.”
Lupin let out a laugh. “Oh, dear. He must be terrified.”
Severus sighed, but he couldn’t help the teasing note in his voice. “Unless he and Draco took advantage of the mistletoe. I had better be careful when checking on them, though I hope to report as much success as us.”
“Please do,” Lupin said, taking Severus’ hand in his. “And tell me if he is as fortunate in his pursuit as I am.”
Severus leaned their foreheads together. “I look forward to seeing you again tomorrow, Lupin.”
Lupin lifted a hand to cradle Severus’ cheek. “Call me Remus, please. As much as it delights me to hear you say my name like when we were schoolboys… I think it would be even more thrilling to hear you call me Remus.”
Severus was glad for the shadows of the night. “Goodnight then… Remus.” Severus couldn’t help the way his lips curved up into a smile.
“Goodnight, Severus.”
They parted, hands joined for one last second before slipping into the night. And then Severus took to the stairs, thankful for the long walk down to the dungeons to allow his heart a chance to settle.
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When Severus approached the classroom, he could hear Weasley and Draco talking. Curious, Severus slowed his steps, as Draco’s voice floated out the door.
“…bet I could give you a real challenge. I won all of Slytherin’s chess competitions.”
“That’s big talk from someone who’s never faced me.”
“Oh, really?” Severus could just imagine the challenging spark in Draco’s eyes. “Perhaps we should change that sometime.”
“Only if the winner gets a really outstanding prize,” Weasley replied, and as Severus entered, he could see the lazy smirk on Weasley’s face.
Fortunately, it dropped right off his face as he caught sight of Severus.
“Uh, we’re all finished sir,” Weasley said quickly.
Severus prowled closer. He took in the jars sparkling with pristine mistletoe berries, and the bucket on the dungeon floor, which housed the berries that were just starting to turn. At the table, Draco was sitting up straight again, with Weasley sitting very close to him.
“Fine,” Severus said in a bored voice. “So I presume it won’t be too much to ask for you to take it down to Professor Sprout so she can use the berries for fertiliser.”
Weasley froze, and Severus could practically hear the gears turning in his head. It was late enough now to be past curfew, but Weasley was also terrified of him and not following an order.
But Severus, feeling uncharacteristically charitable that night, decided not to prolong Weasley’s agony. “That’s alright, Weasley. I will handle it from here.”
Weasley relaxed at the desk, and Draco shot him a look of gratitude.
However, Severus noted there was no under the table hand-holding or foot nudges between the boys.
Oh well. Severus still had one final detention to secure Draco a beau. As he bid goodnight to the two students, Severus definitely caught Weasley looking back at Draco longingly before he turned back to head to Gryffindor Tower. And Draco looked surprisingly cheerful as Severus said goodbye to him in front of the Slytherin common room.
So, Severus thought to himself as he headed back to his own office, only time would tell…
The next morning when Severus went up to the Great Hall for breakfast, it was to find Remus waiting for him.
“People will talk, if you’re not careful,” Severus murmured, as he approached him.
“Oh, I definitely hope so,” Remus replied, smiling. The scar stretched across his cheek, and yet he had never looked more handsome.
Severus had no opposition to that.
They shared a delightful kiss before heading into the Great Hall and finding seats together, avoiding Minerva’s knowing eye and finding excuses for their hands to touch as they prepared their breakfast.
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Severus sailed through the day in an uncommon state of bliss, inviting his Seventh-years to ask questions about optimal preparation of ingredients (resulting in a lot of students suddenly scrambling to take notes) and instructing the Sixth-years on brewing the Elixir to Induce Euphoria.
And then, after Severus and Remus made their way out of the Great Hall after dinner, Severus took Remus with him into one of the half-shadowed alcoves, pulling him close and delighting in a little scandalous make-out session—despite the fact they were both Professors.
“Stop!” Severus grinned, as Remus’ lips descended to his jaw. “I have to go to supervise detention soon… Weasley is going to faint if I’m delayed much longer…”
“Oh, Severus,” Remus said affectionately. “Whoever would have said you cared so much about students?”
“I am an exemplary Professor, I’ll have you know,” Severus said.
Remus nodded solemnly.
“And,” Severus added, “this will be their last detention. I’m sure that Weasley can’t wait for it to be over.”
“So when you’re not supervising detentions,” Remus said softly, “you will have your evenings free, I presume…?”
Severus allowed himself a little smirk. “Oh, yes. And I do look forward to it.”
“How about dinner together tomorrow night?” Remus asked. “The new French restaurant in Hogsmeade, perhaps? I’ve heard their holiday blancmange is exquisite.”
“You managed to find someone in Hogsmeade who makes it?” And Severus had thought the man could not shine any brighter.
Remus’ answering grin was far too tempting, and Severus could not let him go without one last kiss.
⚖️ 🌙 ⚖️ 🌙 ⚖️ 🌙
Once Severus finally managed to leave, he strode down the corridors as quickly as he could, scaring some First-years who were on their way back to the Slytherin common room.
Oh, dear.
But Severus mustn’t have looked too menacing, as the students merely inclined their heads respectively before hurrying off, leaving Severus to continue down to the Potions Classroom. Now… what could he set as the final detention? Scrubbing cauldrons? Making the pickling solution for storing ingredients? Sending them to Argus for polishing duty in the Trophy Room?
But when Severus finally arrived at the Potions corridor, he let out a huge gasp.
Why, Weasley was pushing Draco against the wall, snogging the daylights out of him!
They were very close together, Weasley taking the Quidditch Keeper approach, his hands going everywhere.
Draco didn’t seem to be protesting either, the way his hands were eagerly pulling Weasley into him, wrapped around strong shoulders.
At least, they were, until they heard Severus approach, at which point they broke the kiss hurriedly.
“Professor, I—I was just,” Weasley started, though Draco interrupted him, saying, “No, don’t!”
Severus managed to contain a smirk, as Draco couldn’t meet his gaze, and Weasley tripped over as he tried to get away from Draco as fast as possible.
“While I’m thrilled,” Severus said silkily, “at your commendable efforts to promote… Inter-House unity… I’m sure you will understand if I ask you to keep such events to yourselves, for example, on a date, and not in the middle of the Potions corridor!”
Weasley and Draco nodded quickly, and Severus caught how their eyes met each other’s eagerly.
“Very well,” Severus said. He withdrew his wand with a flourish and unlocked the door, leading the two students inside.
He decided to make Weasley and Draco mop the Potions Classroom floor. Without magic. And he stayed there, leaning against the wall and directing them when they’d missed a spot.
At the end of the detention, Severus had a spotless floor, two exhausted students, and a date to look forward to the next night.
Life could not be sweeter.
⚖️ 🌙 ⚖️ 🌙 ⚖️ 🌙
“Mmmmm,” Severus hummed happily as he savoured another spoonful of delicious blancmange.
It really was quite exceptional.
The plums and cinnamon made it sing, and Severus was having the best time.
Remus looked like he was going to die.
“Please,” he begged, shooting a desperate look at Severus. “Are you nearly finished? I’m… I don’t know if I can take it. I’m already dangerously close to not being able to get up from the table without risk of public indecency.”
Severus looked at his half-full bowl. Then he looked across at Remus, who was watching him so sweetly, his eyes dark and full of longing. So be it.
“Waiter!” Severus called, leaning forward. “Please package the rest of the dessert to be taken home. And bring me the bill tout de suit, s’il vous plaît.”
The waiter nodded hurriedly and rushed off for the kitchen.
Remus gripped Severus’ hand. “I was going to treat you to the meal!”
Severus smirked. “Well, you can pay next time.”
Remus grinned at that. “Agreed. Now, let’s get back to the castle as soon as possible—we have the whole night ahead of us.”
They strolled back to Hogwarts together, laughing as they entered Remus’ office. And as he and Remus settled in for the night, Severus could not help congratulating himself.
Him having his very own Gryffindor?
What a delightfully unexpected prize.
FIN