The Ten Year Hex [Severus Snape]

15

Jynx is woken by the soft sliver of sun that falls across the bed and onto her face. She feels for Severus but he is gone. The spot where he had been was cold. Of course he had classes, he couldn't lay with her all day, though they both would have preferred it.

She dresses for the day, choosing her favorite white shirt and a thick black jacket. Her jeans have holes in the knee. She fumbles through the small desk for a quill, ink and parchment. Once she had assembled the supplies, she stalled. The page was blank, and she was not quite ready to fill it.

Three simple words and a meeting place was all she would have to write, but her hands shook with apprehension. She had already read one wizard after she refused, gave into the pressure because of circumstance. Was she willing to do it again? Habits are too easily formed. Was she willing to take the chance?

Her fingers spoke for her as they plucked up the quill.

I'll do it.
-J

Was all she wrote, followed by the address of her flat.

She wasn't sure she should return to her flat, perhaps it should be left abandoned. However, there was nowhere else she was willing to do a reading. She folded the parchment and placed it in the only envelope she could find hidden in the desk.

The halls were mostly vacant, only a few students littered here or there in groups. Jynx let her mind wander as she made her way through the halls. Memories followed, each turn she took was a different part of her story. She took her time, her fingers tracing the hard stone as she went.

When she reached the Owlery, a huge brown barn owl landed on her shoulder. It nipped her ear and its giant golden eyes met her emerald and gray. The creature seemed more than ready for an adventure, so she slipped the envelope into its beak and it disappeared out the window.

When she turned to leave, a small girl with a head full of golden curls stood in the door. She seemed overwhelmed, Jynx assumed she was a first year. "Are you alright?" Jynx asked.

The girl nodded her head and then a glimmer of recognition flashed in her blue eyes, "Miss Jynx?"

Jynx was taken aback for a moment, "Molly?"

The girl smiled and threw her arms around Jynx. "I knew you were a real witch!" She said.

A smile drew across Jynx's lips, "How are your parents?"

Molly's parents owned the bakery not far from her flat, they were sweet people and their pies were simply the best. Jynx would often bring Molly crayons or coloring pages because she spent most of her days cooped up in the shop. She was quite the little artist. "They were confused when Professor McGonagall presented me with my letter, but I told them I knew I was magic. They've been very supportive," said Molly, practically jumping up and down.

"That's wonderful! I'll have to stop and see them on my way home today!" Said Jynx.

Molly smiled and they both said their goodbyes. Jynx would have loved to hear about Molly's time at Hogwarts so far, but right now was not the time. Jynx bounced down the stairs and back into the corridors. She found herself going too far down, descending the flights of stairs until there were no more. She stood outside the potions classroom for only a moment, listening to the rumble of Severus' voice on the other side. His words were muffled by the door between them.

She did stop by the bakery and grab a slice of pie, telling Molly's parents that she had heard of her new education opportunity. Though Molly was almost through her first year, it was still fresh for them all. They had beamed at the mention and pulled Jynx into a conversation about how proud they were. It was uplifting, though she had outed herself as well. She assumed there would be no pitchforks at her door.

Her flat had only been empty for a day, and the air already smelled stale. As if it had been empty for years. A decade she had lived within its walls with people coming and going, memories being made and men bedded, but she never felt like she didn't belong. The more time she spent away, wrapped in the shape she had come to know so well, the less it felt like home.

Everything seemed untouched since she had fixed it, even the shredded note, everything placed exactly as she had left it. Except for the tiny statue of a Hungarian Horntail which used to be full of life in her youth, it would breathe fire and bite her finger as if it were large but now it sat enchanted to seem lifeless. It had been placed on the bookshelf next to her copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them but now it sat on her reading table. A place it had never called home.

She felt for her wand to bring the creature back to life, to feel its magic in her palm once more but the air in the room shifted. She was no longer alone, though the door had not opened and nobody had crossed the threshold.

She spun on her toes, her wand at the ready and the face that loomed over her was the one in so many nightmares. The one she had seen so recently and had hoped to never see again. His brown eyes traced over her as if reading the pages of a book, the back and forth searching.

His hand raised to her face and his fingers grazed her flesh like acid. She felt the skin burn under his touch and she winced away. Her tongue longed to utter the curse as her eyes looked into his, but her throat was in a vice. It would take no effort to muster the meaning, all the malice so had harbored toward him but the words turned to ash. So instead she pushed with every bit of strength she could muster and it threw the nightmare to the floor, toppling him over the table.

There was rage in his features, in the contorting of his eyebrows. When he stood he ran his fingers through his shaggy brown hair and seemed to wipe it away with ease. He smiled but it was a forced and wicked thing. "So much fire," he said. As if it were a compliment.

Fire. She thrust her wand toward him and the flames erupted from its tip as if flowing from her own heart. She would love to watch him burn. He dodged and before she could count his steps, send another spell, he disarmed her. Her wand lay useless across the room. He hurried toward her and then his body pressed against her like a bag full of rocks. Her back was against the cold glass of the window.

She struggled, kicking violently at every part of him that she could reach. He slipped both of her wrists into one of his hands and the other ran over her body. He touched her like he owned her, something he could touch at will. Her stomach knotted and the bile began to rise in her throat. "Stop, Adrian, stop!"

He didn't. Her words were wasted breath and her pleading fell on deaf ears. His hand fumbled with the button on her jeans and then his own. She was still flailing, hoping someone would hear. She kicked and struggled but he simply overpowered her.

His fingers slipped down the front of her jeans, tracing the folds between her legs. She snapped her legs together, the more she kicked the easier it would be for him. So she crossed them, closing herself off. It didn't stop him, but it did slow him down. The rage once again flashed in his face as his hand flew to her throat. He lifted her to her toes and the snarl on his face could not be covered by any fake smile, but his eyes became white and rolled back in his head. The grip on her throat slackened and Adrian fell to the floor, his body limp.

"What the fuck?" Demi stared at the body on the floor, his mouth hanging open, "What is he doing here?"

Jynx's hand flew to her throat, "Hopefully you killed him."

Demi's arms stretched out and his shoulders rose and fell, "I put him to sleep."

Jynx's forefinger traced over her chin, "Well then, let's throw him out the window."

Demi's brows shot up, "Why?"

"Because he deserves it, for everything he did to me and to anyone else."

Demi's expression was one of confusion, surely he didn't know. How could he? This man had once been one of them, they shared a house. Demi put an arm around her and gave her time to find the terms. It took time for her to summon a handful of words but when she did it was Demi who uttered the curse on the sleeping body, his eyes flared with wrath, he meant it with every fiber of his being.