the day before you came - severus snape x reader

Chapter 34 - You Owe Me One

Another sip of lukewarm eggnog runs down your throat, and you make a face at the borderline revolting taste – you still haven't gotten used to it, even after the fourth shot, and you pout grimly towards Remus who, unlike you, is thoroughly enjoying his time away from Flitwick's scrutinizing eyes.

"Not used to it anymore, eh?", he asks slyly, then pats Harry on the back. He's looking even more miserable than you.

"If you're referring to lousy booze and bad company, then definitely not", you spit. He just laughs at you, pouring you another one before you can rip away your glass. The agonizing groan you respond with when he clinks your glasses with glee seems like pure, alluring music to his ears, and you can't believe that you would really rather be back decorating classrooms.

"Oh darling, just think of the benefits of midday alcohol abuse", Remus purrs conspiratorially, and he has the audacity to wink. "I bet Snape is already missing you and your, shall I say, talents after yesterday, high on love and potions."

The unanimous reaction follows immediately, the conjoined disgusted groan of the young Gryffindors completely detached from the alcohol – and so is the stinging pain in Remus' ribs, even though he laughs it off through pathetically pursed lips.

You've always been rather proud of your lower left hook, though you can't say the same about your impetuous need to talk – ugh, if you could've just kept your mouth shut for once!

"Oh god, those images", Ron whines with crimson cheeks and slumps back against the next stone wall, kicking the cardboard box full of the last remaining Christmas tree balls with an off-key tinkle.

"I'll throw myself in front of the next dementor. Don't try to stop me."

"Best believe I'll chuck Remus after you, too", you grumble.

Harry next to you coughs violently, in amusement, shock or because he's still trying to choke down the eggnog you can't tell.

"Children, please", Remus giggles, roguish light shining behind his eyes. "Our darling friend must be so grateful being able to cater to the elderly's needs."

"Fuck off, Remus."

You snatch the bottle from his hands and take another hearty sip, glaring at him, rather wasted on this creamed abomination than having to endure his presence for another sober second. Remus, as always, remains utterly unfazed.

"That's not how I wanted to remember you over the holidays", Harry croaks, throat freed at last. "Not at all."

Your scowl softens a bit, and you give him a crooked, friendly grin.

"Should I use my excellent newfound Legilimens skills on you to neuter these nightmares of me and Sev?"

Ron gags theatrically at the nickname and mutters unintelligibly under his breath, eyeing Hermione who stayed rather silent during your bickering, nursing her own glass, her flushed face buried deeper into her scarf, cheeks almost matching her House colours.

"Oh, I'm positive our dear Professor's greatest concern lately has been teaching you the fine arts of cognitive manipulation."

It's not your fist that hits Remus this time, and he still has trouble walking long after the last of Professor Flitwick's decorations have found their place around the castle, and the setting sun brushes the fogged silhouette of the countryside with golden streaks as you make your way to Hogsmeade in the early evening.

If only you had known that eggnog would make Remus impossibly more obnoxious (and leave you drunk with a staggering headache instead of the pleasant buzz you were now trying to morph it into with Butterbeer and Firewhisky), you would have nicked a bottle or two of red wine from Severus' personal stash this morning instead and spent the time improving your non-verbal spell casting and mulling it with your will instead of wasting it on animal care – or simply stayed in bed, exploring a different kind of magic.