ꜱᴇʀᴘᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ | ᴛᴏᴍɪᴏɴᴇ

Whispers from the Past, ch. 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Harmony weaved between the bodies of people pressing in on her from all sides. She needed some space to breath. She escaped the hot huddles of the crowd and ambled back over to her group. Mag and Snape must have just finished their heated argument because her professor's face was flushed red and the two men avoided eye contact. When Snape cast his obsidian eyes on her, they were as sharp as daggers, ready to accuse. Harmony inwardly groaned; she could hear the nasally nagging before the words even left Snape's mouth.

"Where have you been?" he snarled, flying up from his chair. "I told you Draco needed to be with you at all times. What if you were snatched up?" He stabbed a glare at Mag. "No one would've been there to save you."

Harmony looked self-consciously around them. Snape was talking down to her like a child and her face burned with embarrassment. She drew close to him so she didn't have to speak loudly. "I only left to get some air. You don't have to worry-"

She was suddenly cut off short when Snape forced his face close to her own. His abnormally large nose was inches from her mouth and she heard him take a great big whiff. His nostrils flared and he straightened himself with a snap.

"You've been drinking," he said slowly. His eyes were narrowed, only slivers of black. "I can smell it on you." He grasped her shoulders and shook her. "If you are intoxicated right now, I swear I will toss you in an Azkaban cell myself!"

Harmony shrugged his hands off and stepped away. "I can still duel!"

"Your pupils are dilated," he cut through. "How much did you drink?"

"Two."

"What? Two pints? Two kegs?"

"Two shots."

Snape stared. Then he sighed and brought a pale hand up to message his temples. "Shots," he said with amusement in his voice. He turned away to move his chair closer to the table and he sat back down with a huff.

"You worry too much about me," she said.

He looked up at her as though he couldn't hear her over the music from the dance floor next to them and Harmony edged closer to speak.

"I don't believe I've ever asked you why you care. Why would you risk your life and reputation to make sure I'm safe?"

Snape's eyes focused on a spot of dirt on the table, a thick greasy strand of black hair fell into his face. Without moving it he said, "Because I promised Albus I would protect you. Or I suppose I should say he made me promise."

"You mean before you killed him?"

He quickly twisted to stare up at her with a penetrating gaze, and the strand of hair in his face flew back into place. "I never wanted to be the one to take the Headmaster's life. But I always keep my promises, no matter how ghastly. He wanted it to be done, so I did it."

Harmony knew she had hit a nerve in him and she almost recoiled under his gaze as though he was physically inflicting her.

"However...yes, I promised to protect you before he died. Among other reasons, but those reasons are my own."

She was instantly curious, but Mag rudely cut in from across the table.

"Aw, how sweet." His sharp teeth protruded from behind his tight-lipped grin. "I never knew you were the sentimentalist, Sev."

Snape flew over the table like a shot, closing the distance between himself and Mag in a second. His pale hands curled like deathly claws around the Death Eater's collar in a white knuckled grip, and he pulled Mag toward him until they were nose to abnormally large nose.