One-Shots & Outtakes - Wizarding World Romance

There...and there...and there (Severus x OC)

Outtake
From "Within the Wings of a Storm"
Category: Fluff
This would fall between Chapter 9 "Dreams Unwind" and Chapter 10 "I Have Always Been a Storm." I briefly mentioned in Chapter 10 that Severus reads to Rhiannon by the fire. I wish I hadn't glossed over that and had given more detail. This is the night that got started. 📚 🔥
Note: the book excerpts are from Return of the Native by Thomas Hardy. Alan Rickman actually reads the audio book for this, which was the inspiration for this chapter. You can download the full audio book or find excerpts on YouTube. 😍
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Eustachia Vye was the raw material of a divinity. On Olympus she would have done well with a little preparation. She had the passions and instincts which made a model goddess, that is, those which make not quite a model woman.

Rhiannon had a weakness for Muggle romance novels, especially the classics. She had a similar penchant for dramatic film, especially of the historical kind. On the rare occasions her mother scraped together enough funds for a special outing, it was often to the dollar-movie theater on the outskirts of the city. Since the taxi ride there took nearly all of their savings, little was left for the movie itself or for treats. Epona would smuggle their food along in her gigantic patchwork bag, and they would usually see some old or obscure film, never a blockbuster. But it gave Rhiannon an appreciation for period drama, with its elegant costuming and flowery language, its long, passionate stares, and its fevered kisses that left everything else to the imagination.

Thomas Hardy novels were like that. The descriptors and metaphors were such that one could be lit aflame with no explicit scenes whatsoever— not even a hint of one— only paragraphs describing the sweet escalation of desire. Rhiannon had no idea why such romances could be found on Severus Snape's shelves; he certainly didn't seem like the type to appreciate something so frivolous and sentimental.

While Rhiannon was curled in a leatherback chair by the fire, Snape himself leaned over a small black secretary desk, quill in hand, brow furrowed. If he was grading papers, she was a bit surprised he was there with her in their living quarters and not in his office. Usually she only saw him in the evenings if he intended to work with her on defensive spells or Potions, or if he'd noticed something on her daytime work that needed critique or further instruction.

Not that she was complaining about having him there. Her first couple of weeks at Hogwarts had been horribly lonely, especially when contrasted with the constant buzz of comings and goings at Grimmauld Place. Sirius's constant attentions during their whirlwind courtship had spoiled her, and the dungeon's cold silence was a stark and sudden change. But Snape's presence seemed to fill the room when he did find the time to be there, more than making up for the emptiness that punctuated her days. Even if he was silent, as he was now, she could feel something swell in the air— indefinable, powerful. It closed around her like a warm but formidable embrace.

"Severus?" Rhiannon said decisively.

His head did not move, only his eyes raising to hers expectantly.

"Will you read to me?" she asked, the slight twisting of an earring the only sign of the nervous butterflies she felt.

"I'm a bit occupied, Miss Aspenfell."

"Only a 'bit,' right? Not so much that you couldn't spend a few moments with me? It was such a lonely and frustrating day, working with the Venomous Tentacula. Look!" Rhiannon raised the sleeves of the sheer, ivory lace top she wore over a matching v-neck tank. She had an imprint on her forearm from where the violent plant had tried to ensnare her as she'd studied its properties.

"So because you were maimed by an angry vine you require me to read romance novels to you by the fire?"

Rhiannon smiled sweetly at the fact he'd taken time to discern her choice of reading material. "Considering you should have never assigned me such a dangerous lesson unsupervised, I believe you to be in my debt. And your melodious voice reading me beautifully phrased declarations of passion seems like a good way to repay that debt— however fictional those declarations may be."