Isn't He Lovely-Professor Snape

Year 6 Pt 15

"Niamh... Niamh, wake up," Hermione nudged me. I opened my eyes, groaning from the lack of water and food in my stomach.

"I'm up, give me a second. I don't feel good." I sat up slowly, grabbing my stomach. Glancing at the clock, it read 6:40 pm.

"Have you eaten yet?" I asked her. "No, not yet. Ron's already down there, shocker, but Harry and I are waiting for you."

I smiled at her, reassuring her that I'd be down in a minute. After brushing my teeth and combing my hair, I touched up my makeup before heading downstairs to join them.

At dinner, I tried to control myself from scarfing down my food, not wanting to risk getting sick again. With each bite, I could feel my energy returning. As I scanned the professors' table, my eyes easily found Snape. We locked eyes, and I couldn't help but get lost in the depth of his gaze.

Feeling a surge of guilt for my earlier behavior when I got sick, I told myself I needed to apologize to him. I looked away, trying to shake off my embarrassment, and returned to engaging in conversation with my friends.

Little did I know, Snape was quietly listening, his attention not entirely diverted from me.

"Christmas is a month away!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Wow, this school year has flown by," I added.

Dinner had managed to uplift my spirits, but the fatigue still clung to me.

"I'm sorry, guys, but I'm going to bed now. I'm not feeling my best."

Worried glances were shot my way, but I smiled at them and walked back to my room. The trek to the Fat Lady's portrait made me break into a slight sweat. Upon entering, I changed into a matching silk pajama set – a button-up shirt paired with silk shorts. I quickly styled my hair into two loose Dutch braids, completed my skincare routine, and brushed my teeth once more.

As I crawled into bed, a lingering unease accompanied me, but I shrugged it off and drifted into a restless sleep.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼

"Sectumsempra!" The cruel incantation echoed, and cuts manifested across my body, pain flooding every inch.

"Help!" I cried out, but everyone stood frozen, mere spectators to my agony.

Henry and Harry found amusement in my suffering. "You get what you deserve."

Tears streamed down my face as I desperately searched for help. The pain intensified, the cuts deepening, blood seeping out. My body succumbed, head heavy, eyes closing. In a final scream, I pleaded for assistance, yet no one moved.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼

I jolted awake, the remnants of my nightmare still clinging to my senses. Dark shadows enveloped the dormitory, and I could sense the quiet slumber of my fellow students. Checking my watch revealed the haunting time: 2:15 am. Panting and on the verge of tears, I didn't want to disturb anyone with my turmoil.

In a haze, I left my bed, propelled by an inexplicable need to be with him. Rules and consequences faded into insignificance; I craved his presence. Shaking, I navigated the familiar corridors toward his classroom. My urgency grew with each step, and I pounded on the door upon arrival, my emotions threatening to consume me. The door swung open abruptly, revealing the awaited figure.

"What is the meaning of- Niamh, what are you doing?" His initial sternness softened upon recognizing me, though concern lingered in his voice. I could sense that I had roused him from sleep.

Ignoring any explanations, I walked past him, and he promptly closed the door behind me. The moment the door shut, I rushed into his arms, tears streaming down my face.

I felt a slight tension in his body at my first contact, but it swiftly transformed into a comforting embrace as he enveloped me in his arms.

"Talk to me, Niamh," he whispers.

"Bad dream, sir," I stammer.

He picks me up, and I adjust my arms to wrap around his neck, burying my head in his shoulder. He carries me to his room, gently placing me on his bed. Crouching down to eye level, he asks, "Do you want to talk about it, or do you wish to have a potion to make you fall asleep and go back to your room?"

I'm still crying, attempting to calm myself down. "C-can I just sleep with you?" I felt awful for asking, anticipating a rejection; after all, I'm just his student.

"Yes, Niamh, whatever you need," he reassures. He kisses my forehead and gets up, walking to the other side of the bed to get in. I lay down and face him, burying my face in his chest, keeping my hands close to me.

"Thank you, sir," I whisper.

He gently pulls me closer, his lips brushing the top of my head. Gradually, the tears subside, and I drift into a peaceful slumber. The rhythmic sound of his heartbeat becomes my lullaby, and within the embrace of his arms, I experience an extraordinary sense of safety and love that lulls me into a serene sleep.