a soft place to fall // Severus Snape x OC

004 ❁ Take Me Home Where I Belong

A/N: Nearing the end of Book One already ;D Complete with pining and the use of an Unforgivable Curse. TW: Some blood and bodily/mental harm. Comment below and thanks xx

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It started with Dumbledore being called away weeks later. Minerva always stepped in when asked. Sudden as it always was. Schedules resumed. Class after class. Quirrell didn't even try to enter the same hallways as Wren with Snape always circling. Cape billowing same as a vulture, rooting for flesh.

Wren found it an odd comfort. Cold and callous Professor Snape. Always watching.

"What are those for? Our next class?" Pansy Parkinson caught the Herbologist headed up the steps from the greenhouses. A few Slytherins around her.

"Ah, just my own experiments at the present," Wren shifted with a small crate full of sample test tubes, "I think you'll like what Professor Sprout has planned this week though." The girls giggled to each other as they continued on with Wren headed the next direction. She inhaled upon entering the castle. Caught something familiar.

"Professor Snape," she said louder than usual, forcing him to stop before he could zip up a set of steps. "You don't have to do that, you know?"

"Walk at my leisure during a Saturday morning?" He faced her without his usual fluttering robe.

"Check on me all hours and disappear. It's not your greatest magical feat for sure. If you want a more natural reason to approach, starting a conversation also works. The silent thing I do is an act you've broken through," Wren passed him with her box, balanced it with one arm to inspect the labels. Glasses clicking. "You have a distinct aftershave and I have a good nose. If you wondered how I know you're about. Scent is an art to Potions Masters and Herbologists, I think."

"I saw no reason to approach unless Quirrell bothered you," he still picked up his steps to come to her right. Wren twitched but didn't look at him. A strange certainty about her.

"No other reason," she muttered, "way to wound a girl's pride. I figure you're more on edge with Dumbledore out. A friend would ask how you're handling it."

"I am appropriately apprehensive and monitoring the situation."

"Maybe you're shy and that's why you avoid me," Wren winked at him.

"I do not avoid you." So indignant.

"Just saying I don't bite. Not anymore since I got out of the madhouse. They took my muzzle off and everything. That's what everyone says, isn't it? And you're left now wondering if that bite quip was a joke or not."

"I won't spare it much thought," his black eyes shifted as Wren turned to face him on the steps. Maybe he was easy to talk to because he didn't treat her like something fragile or mad.

"About being shy or about me biting?" She clicked her teeth for show and smiled above him. Finally at eye level because of the stairs. "I am mad, that's for certain so the rumors can rest peacefully. You could try strutting up to me. Asking me about my day. The weather. How I take my tea in the morning perhaps? We could play guessing games to pass the time."

"Asking such things as favorite flowers, I assume?" Snape clasped his hands behind him and Wren came down a step. Amused. Shuffling closer. Too close.

"That's the spirit, sir. Hm," she studied him. Tapped his chest once with her free hand. Undaunted. "Black iris for you."

"What?"

"I'm starting the game and you remind me of a black iris," she said, almost tender, "they're quite beautiful and very rare too."

"I do not have a favorite flower, Miss Valentine," Severus lifted a brow at her in protest of such a silly thing. Playful in his way as well.