Don't Make Me Love You. Severus Snape

Chapter Two

I stepped out of my front door at 8 o’clock precisely, stepped over the low wall separating our front gardens and then knocked on her door. Five times.

Try the handle then if it’s locked, run for your life.

I twisted the handle and sure enough the door swung open revealing a floral living room, who knew what I considered a dark dank space could be made so fresh? From the kitchen I could hear music and smell the most amazing thing that’s hit my nostrils in a long time. The music was a constant drum beat, no wonder she didn’t hear me knocking. Standing from my position in the door frame I watched as she danced and opened her mouth to sing along, I flinched expecting something similar to a cats cry, but it wasn’t, surprisingly she was very good.

“My life, you electrify my life, let’s conspire to re-ignite all the souls who would die just to feel alive.” I watched in amusement as her legs bounced and her head tipped back as she readied for the next part. “I’ll never let you go!”

I waved as she turned to get something from near me, her mouth dropped open and her cheeks flushed a ferocious red. “I wasn’t aware we would be entertaining each other this afternoon.”

“Did you knock?” she stated trying to get over her embarrassment.

“Multiple times, I tried the door before going home and found it to be open.” She glared at me but didn’t say anything, seeing there was no point. “You should remember to lock your door . . . It smells good.”

“Thanks, it’s my grandma’s recipe; she used to be a cook at one of the grand palaces in Hampshire.” She smiled picking up some sort of herb mixture and chucking a load in. “Never written down, passed on by word of mouth, she was a muggle.”

My lip curled slightly. All of my contact with muggles had caused some pain and ended up in great distaste for them all. I’d heard her Father had married below himself; he is pureblood but now not treated as such by the rest of us Slytherins. “How did they react to you being a witch?”

“Oh they’d been seers for generations before anyone was actually a witch, so it was just like the next step.” She shrugged, “Unfortunately I’m a Walden through and through, no sense of direction at all.”

I laughed despite myself and she grinned at the accomplishment and pushed me through to the dining room/conservatory. She pulled out glasses and waved over a jug of juice as I pulled out the wine. This was slightly weird, having dinner with an old student of mine, by ourselves with wine. But then again, there was no one else to join us if we wanted, and she was a neighbour. I’ve had dinner with other neighbours and not been weird about it, lie. If I had had dinner with other neighbours I would probably have cursed them within a few minutes.

I raised my eyes to where she was standing in the kitchen cooking still, she wasn’t dressed like it was dinner, it was so informal. I think that’s what was so weird about it; she had a huge baggy jumper on, shorts and some sort of huge slippers. I still wore my shirt and trousers as required by all death eaters to look formal for the Dark Lord.

“What's up with my heart when it skips a beat, can't feel no pavement right under my feet, up in my lonely room, when I'm dreaming of you, oh what can I do, I still need you, but I don't want you now.” She sang as if an impulse as the music started, but she remembered I could hear her and stopped to mime the words.

“You can sing if you want, I’ve heard much worse in my time.” I smiled from the conservatory.

My eyes roamed the room, it was quite small and old looking, but it made such a difference to the house, mine didn’t have one and right now the thought of returning to its dark, cramped, confined rooms filled me with dread. She had made this house a home in a matter of weeks while mine still felt like someone else’s house.