Harriet Potter 2

Clothes

Harriet let out a breath before turning to face -

Merlin's balls! No wonder the twins hadn't been keen to stay. She had completely forgotten about that mandatory inspection they had warned her about.

"Well, well if it isn't the little house elf" he sneered.

"House-elf?" Harriet repeated hollowly.

"Do you have a better explanation as to why people keep giving you clothes?" He added cruelly "If you wanted to be free so badly you could have just asked."

Harriet gaped at Snape's face, which was twisted with mockery. "You dumped me remember?" She replied incredulously.

"And it seems that you are making the most of  your newfound freedom," he retorted cruelly.

Harriet's mouth hung open- the twins had taken her out because he had broken her heart, not because she was enjoying being single, for Merlin's sake. Even as she thought it, a wave of anger rose up inside her chest. This had been his choice and he had no right to behave this way.

He paced around her slowly, scanning her form. Harriet was hyper aware of his presence as he stalked around her in slow, deliberate steps. He was so close that Harriet was sure that they would brush. But they never did.

His gaze was dark and unreadable as he took her in.

"Remove the jacket" he bit out, as though each word was an unwilling curse.

Wordlessly, Harriet did as he asked, sliding it off her shoulders and placing it on the bed so she now stood before him, shivering slightly in the short black dress and heels.

Well, if he was going to bump into her unexpectedly she was glad that this was what she had happened to be wearing for the occasion.

He raised her chin with a firm hand before scanning her face. At long last, his eyes caught on Harriet's.

When she met his familiar gaze it was as though nothing had ever changed between them. In that moment she was sure that they were as much each other's as they ever were.

"Severus-"

Then just as quickly, he released his grip.

"You appear to be unharmed" he pronounced "if a little drunk." He seemed to be implying that she had misjudged what she read in his eyes. Harriet was no legilimens, but she knew that the look she had seen in his eyes was not the product of the Merlin damned muggle beers she had consumed. She knew the parts of him that he tried so hard to hide. The parts that he successfully hid from everyone but her.

A part of her wanted to push him, press his careful boundaries, that iron control. Harriet turned her back to him. "Zip" she demanded.

For a long moment he didn't move and Harriet was sure that he would refuse. Then his familiar calloused fingers were lowering her zip like they had done a million times before.

Harriet let her dress fall to the ground, before stepping out of it and turning to face him, a dare.

His voice was cold and distant when he spoke "Accio pyjamas."

When Gabriel's tshirt shot into his palm, his fist tightened around it. If Severus' expression was anything to go by, he clearly recognised the shirt and its origin.

Harriet tilted up her head in challenge "Well aren't you going to pass it to me?"

His obsidian gaze fixed on hers and for a moment Harriet's heart clenched with longing. Harriet stared back at him defiantly, daring him to tell her no. To claim her for himself.

Deep down, a small part of Harriet was certain that Severus would never allow her to sleep in another man's shirt.

To Harriet's surprise, however, Severus threw the shirt up into the air towards her. For a slow moment it seemed to hang in the air between them before he pointed his wand at it. "Incendio" he snarled.

Harriet watched as the burning tshirt dropped to the floor, turning to ash slowly before her eyes. Remarkably, the fire did not spread to the rug. For a moment she was grudgingly impressed by the masterful display.

He stepped forward into her space, before lowering his boot to what remained of the tshirt, twisting his foot so it crumbled beneath a dragon hide sole.

His jaw tightened for a moment as he stepped back, and a second tshirt was shooting into his palm. When he threw it to Harriet, it hit her straight in the chest, before he turned and left the room, closing the door behind him.

Harriet pressed the soft fabric of the shirt he had given her to her face, inhaling the familiar scent, his scent that she knew so well. Tears rose unbidden and she bit down hard on the fabric to stifle the sound of her sobs.