autumn | severus snape

sixty five

Amidst the celebration, Ophelia stood with Agnes. Her smile came easily, but it tugged at the edges of something else. Something unspoken. It had been with her all day, that quiet, restless ache in her ribs.

Her eyes were fixed on Severus, who lingered near the shadows with his usual stoic reserve, hands clasped behind his back.

Agnes's voice was soft but knowing. "How lovely it must be to have someone so dutiful."

Ophelia turned to her, brow furrowed, though her lips curved into a small smile. "What do you mean?"

Agnes tilted her head slightly, nodding toward Severus.

"He waits for you," she said, her voice as gentle as the night air around them.

Ophelia looked back at Severus, the way his fingers curled and uncurled behind his back, the way his gaze was lowered in an attempt to avoid conversation. There was a time she would've mistaken that distance for disinterest. But now, she knew better.

"He doesn't say much," she murmured. "But he's always there."

Agnes smiled softly. "Words are easy. But showing up again and again, especially after everything... that's something else entirely."

Ophelia's breath caught as her gaze returned to him, her heart swelling and aching at the same time. How could she leave now, when everything in her life that felt safe, that felt like home, lived in the quiet between his words? In the way his eyes always found hers across a room, in the subtle nod he gave her before every choice, in the way he waited, not with impatience, but with hope.

She could still feel the weight of the letter tucked into the pages of her book at home. The opportunity she had once prayed for, suddenly felt so small in comparison to what she might lose.

Severus glanced up at that moment, his dark eyes meeting hers across the room. There was something vulnerable in his gaze, something rare, and it called to her.

Ophelia smiled, the weight in her chest easing just a little. "I think I'll go to him now," she whispered.

Agnes nodded, eyes kind. "As you should."

Severus lifted his hand, beckoning, the faintest hint of warmth in his otherwise reserved expression.

"Ready to leave?" he murmured as she approached, his tone soft, his hand extended toward her.

A smile broke across her face as she slipped her hand into his, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Mhm," she murmured, her fingers entwining with his. For a brief, precious moment, she allowed herself to savor the warmth, the comfort, the quiet intimacy between them.

They moved together through the garden, leaving the noise of the crowd behind, the gentle hum of magic around them a familiar comfort. Her fingers tightened around his, as if anchoring herself in the moment, in the comforting certainty of his presence.

Agnes was right, this must be what it is like to be lovely. To have someone wait for you, to have someone choose you in spite of everything, was a gift.

"I want to take you somewhere," Severus said, voice low and velvet in the quiet dusk.

Ophelia looked up at him, her pulse fluttering beneath her skin. "Now?"

He gave the barest of nods and offered his arm in that quiet, elegant way of his. "Just a walk."

She didn't ask. She just followed.

They apparated to their house, slipped beyond the boundary of the wards, where the trees grew closer together and the stars pressed in more tightly. The garden behind the house gave way to wilder magic.