Isn't He Lovely-Professor Snape

Summer Pt 4

A subtle shift in the bed stirred me awake, and as I checked my watch, its hands pointed to 7:00 in the morning. With cautious movements, I extricated myself from Fred's bed, attempting not to disturb his peaceful slumber, and made my way downstairs.

Mrs. Weasley, as was her routine, was already bustling about the kitchen, a radiant smile adorning her face. "Niamh! You're up. I hope you got a good night's rest!"

"I actually did. Is there anything I can help with?" I offered, returning the warmth of her smile.

"No, dear. Why don't you take another quick nap?" she suggested, her maternal concern evident.

Contemplating the idea for a brief moment, I shook my head. "I honestly am not that tired. I think I'll just go on a run, unless you need me!"

"That's okay, dear. When you come back, I'm sure I'll think of something," she reassured, her smile unwavering as she immersed herself in the morning tasks at hand.

        𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼

The morning run unfolded as an unexpected sanctuary. Each step seemed to dissipate the weight of worries, leaving me with a sense of peace that had been elusive for some time.

Upon my return, I replenished myself with a banana, its simple freshness providing a grounding contrast to the complexities of the past. A refreshing shower followed, washing away not just the physical exertion but also the residual strains of the nightmares.

Dressed in an oversized tee and comfortable shorts, I descended the stairs, the fabric swaying with each step. Mrs. Weasley, with her uncanny ability to sense the needs of those around her, had a few tasks in mind for me. Engaging in the preparations, I ensured that every detail within the tent was meticulously set, the landscape outside a canvas of perfection. The hands-on work served as a welcome distraction, grounding me in the present and affirming the importance of each small, tangible accomplishment.

        𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊𓋼

With about three hours left until the wedding, I decided it was time to get ready. Embracing the gorgeous August day, I chose a lemon-colored maxi dress with delicate spaghetti straps. The silk fabric draped elegantly, instantly granting me a sun-kissed complexion. For my hair, I opted for thick curls, adorning them with a couple of mini butterfly hair clips for a touch of whimsy.

As I prepared, Hermione entered the room, catching a glimpse of my ensemble. "Can you help with my hair—oh my god, Niamh, you look stunning!" she exclaimed.

"Oh, this old thing," I sarcastically quipped, twirling to playfully showcase the dress. "Yes, I would be happy to help!"

She beamed and headed to the bathroom. "I'll be there in a minute; I just have to grab something," she called out, and I made my way to my room. While collecting some butterfly clips for her, a sudden presence filled the room as an owl swooped in.

A large, black owl landed gracefully on my bed, carrying a letter addressed to me. Intrigued and a bit uneasy, I opened it to unravel its contents.

ND,

Don't come to Hogwarts. You're not safe. Watch your back.

-🖤 SS

Reading the ominous message twice, I couldn't shake the feeling that it was from Severus, though the reasons remained unclear. A conspicuous void in the letter urged me to respond swiftly. Grabbing my quill, I began to write.