autumn | severus snape

one

Ophelia stood behind the old willow tree at the edge of their garden, cigarette in hand, the smoke curling lazily through the summer air. From beyond the hedge came the distant murmur of voices, her mother giving the new neighbors a tour of the house, polished and staged like they were trying to sell it.

They'd moved back to England only a few weeks ago, but the Bentleys had been away until now, leaving this awkward introduction hanging over everyone's heads like a storm cloud.

A twig snapped behind her.

She jumped, instinct screaming: run. Instead, she flicked the cigarette into a bush and turned to face whoever it was.

He was tall. Cloaked in black. Definitely not her father, thank God, but just as intimidating.

The man raised an eyebrow as he looked down at her, eyes so raven it was hard to tell where his irises began.

"Miss Delisle, I presume?" His voice was low, gravel-edged, like he resented her existence on sight.

Ophelia crossed her arms. "Grumpy, I presume?"

His expression turned cold, mouth parting to deliver what she guessed would be a scathing remark, until her mother appeared, her voice sweet and tight with performative charm.

"I see you've met Professor Snape, darling," she said, beaming.

"Barely," Ophelia muttered, eyes shifting to the pair following behind. A woman in a moss-green dress and her son, tall, tan-skinned, with easy confidence and a smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"This is Agnes Bentley and her son, Theodore," her mother continued. "And this is my daughter, Ophelia."

"Nice to meet you, Ophelia," the boy said, flashing a grin. "You can call me Teddy, Theodore is awfully long."

Ophelia raised an eyebrow but shook his hand. His skin was warm and his eyes sparkled with something she couldn't quite place. She already liked him more than anyone else in the garden.

"Pleasure," she replied.

Her mother clapped her hands. "Now that we're all acquainted, shall we eat?"

They filed inside like some absurd little parade. Ophelia found herself seated next to her sister, across from Teddy, who was beside Snape and his mother. Her own mother sat beside her. Her father took the head of the table, telling them he was the one in charge.

"So," her mother began cheerily after a few tense minutes, "Theodore goes to Hogwarts. At least you'll know someone when you both start there in September."

Ophelia blinked. "Both of us?"

Her mother gave a vague nod and returned to her food.

"But I'm eighteen," Ophelia said sharply. "I've already finished school."

Her father gave her a harsh look, considering her manners. "The school offers excellent resources. You'll complete your final year at Hogwarts."

"Yes, sir," she muttered, biting the inside of her cheek.

Across the table, Snape was watching her, something like amusement flickering in his eyes. She sneered at him before looking down at her food.

"Slytherin," Agnes Bentley chimed in, trying to steer the mood, "is the house Theodore was sorted into. Just like his father."

Ophelia's mother glanced at Teddy with the kind of warm fondness she reserved for children she never had. "Theodore's such a polite young man," she said, smoothing a hand over her napkin as if steadying herself. "He reminds me of my brother at that age, clever, well-mannered, and always helping his mother."

"Thank you, Mrs. Delisle." Teddy smiled politely.

Ophelia gagged.

"And Severus," Agnes added, "is Head of House for Slytherin."

Ophelia looked at the man in black. Severus Snape. Even his name sounded like a shadow. She narrowed her eyes.

"What's Slytherin?"

Snape arched a brow. "Hogwarts has four houses, Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. Students are sorted based on various traits."

"Slytherin's the best, though," Teddy said with a grin.

"Of course it is," Ophelia said flatly.

Agnes turned toward her parents. "So what brought you back to England? I heard you were doing well in the States."

"Ophelia needed a new challenge," her father answered for her. "Her previous school was beneath her potential. We're hoping Hogwarts provides a more... rigorous environment."

He looked at Snape as he spoke, like something was being negotiated without words.

Ophelia scoffed under her breath and stabbed at her food.

"Something to say, sweetheart?" her father asked, his tone light but laced with warning.

"No, Father. Nothing at all." She rose from the table and walked out without asking to be excused.

Outside, she relit a cigarette and sank onto a bench in the garden, one leg drawn up, the other dangling. The cigarette trembled slightly between her fingers.

Footsteps approached.

"You're developing a rather unsightly habit," came a voice like silk soaked in venom.

She didn't look at him. "I can quit whenever I want."

"A rulebreaker and a liar."

Ophelia rolled her eyes, exhaling a stream of smoke before turning to look at him. "So, you're Head of House, huh?" She asked.

"Very observant, Miss Delisle," he replied sarcastically.

Ophelia ignored his snide remark. "So which house do you think I would be sorted into?"

"I think that's for the sorting hat to decide," he answered.

"Screw the hat, I'm asking you."

Snape's mouth twitched. "Whichever house is the most... exasperating, I imagine."

He sat beside her without asking.

"You're very young," he said suddenly.

"Very observant, Professor," she replied, echoing his earlier sarcasm.

He didn't rise to it. Instead, he plucked the cigarette from her hand and crushed it under his heel. "It's foolish to let something that poisonous live inside you."

Her mouth twisted. "Mistake," she repeated quietly. "Trust me, I know all about those."

He didn't look at her. "Then you also know that living with them is the hardest part."

"Didn't know you cared so much," she snapped, not sure why she said it.

"I don't," he said immediately, too quickly.

The silence that followed wasn't heavy. It was something else. Tentative. A drawbridge slowly lowering.

She studied him, his profile, the way his expression didn't shift unless he allowed it to. He was nothing like Teddy, and she couldn't stop looking.

"You're not married to Teddy's mom, are you?"

Snape turned toward her with a look of pure horror. "Merlin, no. Why on earth would you—?"

She shrugged, playing with a frayed thread on her jeans. "Then why are you here?"

"Because," he said grimly, "your father has apparently appointed me your keeper."

Ophelia snorted. "I don't need a babysitter."

"I agree."

"But why were you invited if you're not related to the Bentleys?"

He glanced back toward the house. "I've been wondering the same thing."