Trust me, Professor (Severus Snape x OC)

9 • Porcelain Doll

It annoyed the shit out of me that Professor Lupin had the audacity to start the class just then. The conversation I'd had with Snape was interrupted, and I wondered what the hell the man was referring to.

Apparently he wasn't looking into my mind any longer either, because he didn't even flinch by the amount of swear words that went through it. Nor did he look at me anymore, as his attention had turned to his colleague. Albeit, he didn't look too happy about it.

Clenching my fists, I went to stand beside Pike, pretending to listen to the words that came out of Professor Lupin's mouth, when in all honesty all I wanted was for the other professor to look at me.

And fucking tell me what he meant.

But he seemed preoccupied with murdering the other man with his glare. We all knew he wanted his stupid fucking job. I just couldn't care less about that.

Fucking take it then, if you're so willing, Snape. If you really have Dumbledore wrapped around your pinky, or somehow have an agreement with him, then why won't you use that to your advantage?

No. He was definitely not listening anymore. Not a single eyelash was batted in my direction. And I despised it.

Don't give me an A and forget about the rest of the fucking alphabet. Such a tease.

Perhaps the amount of swear words in my mind had escalated just a tad. I blame the lack of release from leaving his office breaking rule number nine. Fucking rule number nine.

It did not take long till Professor Lupin instructed us to practice together on a few defense spells. It didn't surprise me that I was paired with Blaise before I had the chance to stop it from fucking happening. Just my dumb luck.

«I don't want to hurt you», Blaise said calmly as he raised his wand in my direction soon after, ready to fire off some spell in my direction.

If I hadn't been pissed already, I truly was then. His statement only showed me two things. First, he deemed me incapable of defending myself. Or at least he did not fucking trust I'd be able to do so. Second, he was a cocky motherfucker.

And so I couldn't help myself.

«Cocky motherfucker», I hissed and raised my wand too. The boy's eyebrows went up, as if someone had taken ahold of them, trying to wipe them clean off of his face. Like something straight out of a cartoon. He looked ridiculous.

And when he was about to ask me if I was alright, like I knew he would, as if I was a goddamn porcelain doll — I retaliated.

«Petrificus Totalus», I yelled.

And I would've gotten him. And that would have made me smile. Because finally, well, maybe, he would see that I really did not return his feelings, and that he didn't own me.

I knew he was convinced that he could fix me. That I am just a little bit broken. The tiniest piece of porcelaine missing; and he thought he could glue me back together. And then somehow I would thank him, and eventually love him back.

You're wrong.

There are plenty fucking pieces, and you're not my damn glue.

But the sound of a man's loud and raspy voice interrupted me, so... my spell did not reach the boy. Instead my wand flew out of my hand by his use of expelliarmus, and the gasps from my fellow students and the disappointed glare from my professor told me I was in trouble.

Professor Lupin lowered his wand, «your opponent was not ready, Miss Lovegood. We are practicing defense, not attacks», he said, to my chagrin. The way his voice dripped with discontent reminded me of my father. The very few times he would acknowledge me, that is, prying his eyes and heart off of my sister for a moment. Constantly guarding her, worried he would lose her too. Not me, though.