Trust me, Professor (Severus Snape x OC)

54 • Mercury

Smut ahead.

The first whole day after he left had not been too bad. Dad had been... well, dad — annoying in a way I had braced myself for. He had refused his potion twice, rambled about the moon and accused my muggle work-laptop for spying on us.

And when Luna arrived after having received my letter, she carried that airy little smile and her odd knack for making the room feel calmer. I had never been more grateful.

So, I had almost convinced myself we would manage.

That it would only be that day, or two.

That I could handle it.

I was an idiot.

Now, it had been four days. Four. My patience was almost non-existent as it hung by a thread. Every minute that ticked by was just too slow, like someone was attempting to saw through wood with a rusty spoon.

My father had improved, though. A little. Like the worst parts had dulled around the edges. The potion was working, slowly, just like Snape had said. But he failed to mention how exhausting it would be. Or how maddening. Or how much I would want to rip my hair out.

He had become lucid enough to ramble more logically, but not enough to stop accusing the coffee machine of tracking spells.

I had followed Snape's instructions. I had been calm, collected, gentle. I even smiled. Even when I wanted to shout. I did everything right, and yet I was going absolutely insane.

«Leonie», Xenophilius yelled from the living room, «you should move your business underground. I suspect-»

I cut him off with an aggressive sigh. Ever since I had gone to get my laptop, he had been offering unsolicited advice in all directions. As well as questioning all of my life choices — and how mad I was for even having such an object. While I, on the other hand, cherished it. I had received a threatening email from a supplier who wanted to cancel a major delivery, just because I had been offline a few days. Luckily this muggle laptop let me reply right away. Even an owl couldn't do that.

«Thanks for the insight, dad», I said dryly, fingers furiously typing an apology, along with a discount code.

«Don't underestimate-»

«Oh, shut it», I said louder, pressing my palm to my temple.

«Leonie, your energy is quite... sharp», Luna piped up from the kitchen, tilting her head as she casually rearranged the spice rack — badly. «Maybe you should sit in the garden, it could realign your frequency». The kitchen now looked like a cursed apothecary met a hippie greenhouse. I'd spotted some crystals in a bowl, and jars of unidentified roots where potion ingredients should be. I was also certain Luna had hidden some of Snape's knives, claiming they had angry auras.

«Or», I replied through gritted teeth, «I could try running a company that is currently on fire because I'm stuck playing nursemaid to a recovering conspiracy theorist, and entertaining a sister who thinks astronomy is a business strategy».

Luna blinked. «Mercury is in retrograde».

«Brilliant», I snapped, slamming the laptop shut. «That explains everything, doesn't it? Supply delays, client complaints — forget logistics, it's Mercury's fault». My voice sharp enough to cut glass.

My father called out, utterly unbothered by my mood, «the corporate world is rigged, Leo. Especially in the muggle world. But if you wore more purple-»