Trust me, Professor (Severus Snape x OC)

52 • Phoenix

The Lovegood house looked just as crooked and strange as I remembered it — and maybe even more so with Severus Snape standing beside me at the gate.

Only once had I imagined that. Years ago. Myself at the ripe age of 16, expelled from Hogwarts for being a twat. And my Head of House taking me home.

If I'd only known.

The building perched at the top of a small hill as if it had grown there, all twisted stone and leaning timber, with windows set at uneven heights and a tower that looked like it had simply been added in a dare.

By the front door hung a couple of wind chimes made from shells and scraps of old newspaper clippings.

The familiar scent of wild thyme and honeysuckle wrapped around us as like a shawl.

We hadn't moved since we apparated to the gate.

I could still feel the tension radiating off of him. I wondered what to say to fix it, but at the same time it was hard to find the words when he'd just slumped the possibility of dark magic on me. Why would my father be involved with something like that?

Well, I hadn't really paid any attention to him for a long time, so there was always a possibility he would get up to something without my knowledge. But, come on...

I shifted my weight, the gravel crunching beneath my boots. Snape's eyes were fixed on the house, like it had personally insulted him.

«It doesn't bite», I said, trying to break the silence.

His gaze flicked to me. «It's not the house I'm worried about».

«Then what?»

He hesitated. That alone was enough for me to know this was not going to be easy. Either shit was about to go down, or he was angrier with me than I thought.

«The magic», he paused, «it's thick here. Residual».

Fuck.

I think I would've preferred if I was the problem.

«Oh», was all I managed to say.

Snape opened the gate, his black coat brushing against mine as he stepped in. I would have followed him, had it not been for the fact that I was... frozen.

Nothing magical. Just paralysed and frightened.

He made it halfway before he realised I wasn't there. But he did not turn to look at me.

«We don't have time for hesitation», he said loudly, yet his voice remained dark and somewhat unhappy. It twisted my insides. Why did we both have to suck at talking about our feelings?

I blinked. My fingers curled tighter around the hems of my sleeves.

«Not hesitation», I lied. «I'm just... thinking».

Snape turned then — slowly, his face unreadable. It felt as if everything we had built was masked. Like he'd entered a different role. I just wish I'd known whether it was intentional or not.

«Then think inside. Before someone notices we are here», he said.

«It's my house. I grew up here. I am allowed to be here», I countered.

He sighed, looked to the gravel beneath him and then back to me. «Whoever sent your father into the state he is might be watching», he explained, «we should be quick».

I didn't like that at all. I should be able to spend as much time here as I wanted. Not that I really wanted to, but that was none of their business.

I just couldn't understand who would do such a thing, or why. My father might've been a peculiar wizard with particular interests, but he wouldn't hurt a fly.