Severus Snape: The Becoming

Charity

Flashback: Sixth Year- January 9

The dungeon door squeaked open, Charity shuffling in softly. He glanced up at her, offering a small smile to his friend. They had a smooth and simple relationship, casual dinner chatter and a few nights a month spent discussing politics and recent news. Charity didn't make him feel like an outcast, she accepted him for who he was: thorns and all. She never pushed him for information. She didn't care about those things.

"Hello Severus, are you enjoying your birthday?" she asked cheekily, knowing that he never celebrated.

In fact he ignored it. His birthday was "celebrated" in hiding, his mother sneaking him meals, and not one ounce of joy. He grew thinking the world would be better off without him, and he still believed it.

"Yes, a raucous party as usual" he answered sarcastically, crushing lavender stems with his heavy blade

"You might not celebrate, but I will" she teased, sitting down a thick slice of Honeydukes double chocolate cake on the far end of his table

He allowed himself a smile. She brought him the same slice of cake every year. He didn't know what she saw in him, that she would think of him on her own accord. That she gave him grace and space. That she followed her own conscience and dug past his rocky exterior.

"Thank you Charity. You don't have to put yourself in ill favor with the other staff by being seen with me. I wouldn't be upset if you chose to ignore me" he told her, tying a small bundle of lavender and handing it over.

It was her favorite, she always had it in her classroom.

She inhaled deeply, smiling wide

"Since when have I ever cared about what anyone else has thought?

"You should start" he responded ominously, standing next to her, showing her the newest Daily Prophet with unidentified murders of supposed blood traitors

The ministry hadn't been taken over yet but it would be soon. The infiltration was underway.

"I'll take my chances" she said stubbornly, creasing her eyebrows

He drew in a deep breath. The death eaters would come for her at some point. Charity was a staunch and outspoken advocate for muggle and magical relations. She wrote several papers and articles for the integration of magical and muggle society. She wouldn't back down and he deeply understood and approved of that trait. But he also wanted to protect her, his colleague and friend. She never asked anything of him and he wanted her to be safe.

"I wish you wouldn't. Please hide. Before they come for you. I can help you get away..." he spoke quietly, his arm brushing against hers

Looking up at him, eyes wide, she asked cautiously

"Would you come with me?"

His heart lurched. He couldn't. Not that the thought hadn't crossed his mind to hide. He couldn't entertain the thought of anything more than a genial friendship with anyone. They were already closer than he thought a person should be. He allowed that out of self interest because he enjoyed her company as well. He realized he had been selfish.

"I have reasons to stay" he answered cryptically, his fingers going clammy

She nodded, her eyes down at the counter. After a few seconds of silence, she placed her hand over top of his, petite and slim. He should pull away. The affection both foreign, terrifying, and comforting.