Harriet Potter and the Alpha in the Dungeon

Chapter 15 - Mine

Thank you for reading! Please let me know if you enjoy! I don't own any of Harry Potter! Updates every Saturday!
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"Where is Headmaster Snape, Professor?" A curious Ravenclaw asked Professor McGonagall as she stood at the front of Severus's dungeon classroom on Monday morning.

"Headmaster Snape has taken ill, Miss Lovings." McGonagall replied with a firm nod of her head, "He's expected to return to his post by the middle of this week."

"Has Harriet Potter fallen victim to the same sickness, Professor?" A Gryfinndor student interjected with a smirk.

Laughter erupted throughout the classroom and McGonagall pursed her lips in response before she spoke, "I will ask you all to remember your manners! Quiet down, please! Harriet Potter is looking after our headmaster since he is currently too feeble to do so himself and Madam Pomfrey cannot be devoted to a single patient! Is that a reasonable enough explanation for you all?"

McGonagall's facial expression was so gravely serious that the class's revelry died down.

The potions students in front of McGonagall gradually exchanged their mischievous grins for solemn frowns.

"Thank you." McGonagall said sternly as she walked over to the blackboard and spoke again, "Now, if you will all turn to chapter four. According to the headmaster's lesson plan, today we'll be covering burn salves."

"Professor?" Another Gryfinndor student asked as he raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Whitlock?" McGonagall answered impatiently as she looked over at the boy.

"Can you tell us what's happened to the Slytherin prefect? Elion Dacre? And his friends? We've been hearing rumors all morning." Archibald Whitlock inquired.

The boy's statement was partially correct.

Rumors had flown around the castle all weekend, not only that morning, as students eagerly exchanged their theories and supposed facts about what had transpired between Harriet, Severus, and Elion.

Whispers of expulsion were always of great interest to those in Hogwarts' student body, but whispers of romance?

Those were the most interesting sort of whispers.

McGonagall held her chin high as she answered Archibald and replied, "The Headmaster will address those matters himself once he returns, Mr. Whitlock. Now, please, everyone, turn to chapter four....."

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McGonagall's statement had everything backwards.

Severus wasn't the one who was indisposed, that was Harriet.

For those few, glorious days while the potion to stop her heat was brewing, she laid languidly in the headmaster's strong arms.

Severus only left her side to bring food to her and do what was absolutely necessary.

If he was gone for more than a few moments, Harrier started to whimper like a wounded animal.

If Severus's grip on her slipped during the night while they slept in each other's embrace, he would wake up to find Harriet clutching onto him, desperate for his touch.

Severus found himself delightfully and miserably exhausted.

He hadn't realized what a pleasantly grueling honor it was to look after an omega in heat.

The pair had barely spoken during their time together.

Severus had determined from the look in Harriet's green eyes and the flush on her cheeks that in the throes of her condition, she had little interest in tedious conversations.