The Potions Master and the Ravenclaw

"You ARE Beautiful."

Madeline had fallen asleep on Snape's couch with her Ancient Runes textbook in her lap. She and Snape had been reading together by the fire and now he was watching her sleep.

She was so young. Was he wrong to keep her bound to him? She was barely of age in the wizarding world. There was a significant age difference between them, but she wasn't like a child at all. She was innocent in so many ways, but so intelligent. So mature. So wise beyond her years. Her young life had been bitterly unfair but she hadn't let it harden her heart. Her mind absorbed information like a sponge and she was emotionally intuitive, as well. Expert at reading the moods of others, picking up social cues. Expert at making others comfortable. At listening. She was a true empath. She was caring, which was an excellent quality in a healer. He touched his lip where she had healed it earlier. So advanced for one so young. And oh, God, she was beautiful. Her raven hair, those dark eyes, that porcelain skin. And her lips. Blood red and so soft. She was so small, but every curve made him burn with desire. And when she melted into him, when she put her hands in his hair, when she gave herself to him, when he tasted her kiss, when she touched him, when she begged him to make love to her, when he felt her moving underneath him, when he was inside her. He knew he could never let her go. He loved knowing he was the only man to have had her. She belonged to him. Only him, and no one else. He couldn't stand the thought of anyone else touching her. He thought he'd never love again after Lily, but Madeline had stolen his heart.

And he was grateful.

He knew he'd have to teach her to defend herself in case the Dark Lord returned and there was another war, but she was strong and a quick study. And more powerful than she knew. He had to protect her at all costs.

Whether it was wrong or right, he loved her and she loved him - he knew it without a doubt - and he never wanted to live a single second without her. Never wanted to wake up without her next to him in his bed, in his arms. He hoped she wouldn't regret it. Hoped her feelings wouldn't change as she grew older. He was too old for her. He knew it. But he truly believed it wouldn't matter. After all, he was still a young man. Their connection was strong. Surely it would never be broken. She loved him. He knew she did. She had run to him to when her mother died. Needed him. He had been her first thought. And when she was ill and he had not left her side, she spoke his name before she even opened her eyes. He had been sick with worry at the thought that she might not wake up. He never wanted to feel that way again, but it forced him to acknowledge the depth of his feelings for her. Then when she had lived with him while she recuperated after her illness, he knew he wanted to be with her forever. He had loved having her with him. Talking with her. Being with her. Sharing their meals. Sharing their lives. Sharing his bed. He never tired of her. Never wanted to be without her ever again.

And their physical connection was undeniable. They touched constantly. Kissed. Held hands. Held each other. Even in sleep their bodies found each other and they always woke up tangled together. All he could think about was how her body felt underneath his, how it felt to be inside her, how she tasted. He never felt this way before and, in fact, hated to be touched by anyone but her. She was different.

He would devote himself to keeping her safe. Keeping her happy. He'd give her anything she wanted.

She opened her eyes and noticed him staring.

"Severus, what's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing's wrong. I was just thinking about how much I love you."

"I love you, too."

He got up and stood in front of her, tipping her chin up to see her face.

"You're so beautiful, my little love."