autumn | severus snape

nine

Seeing her house in the distance, Ophelia shivered. Her parents should be home by now, and Snape was the only shield she had from her father's temper. She stopped on the patio, her heart pounding in her ears, and it seemed like the sky was darkening.

"What is it now?" Snape sighed.

"Maybe you should come inside with me," Ophelia suggested.

He gave her a tired look. "And why on earth would I do that?"

She raked her fingers through her hair, visibly agitated. "I just thought... maybe you could talk to my father? Give him an update on my progress or something."

Snape eyed her carefully. He didn't know what she was playing at, and being kept in the dark was not something he particularly enjoyed. But she looked... worried. Earnest. And that, more than anything, intrigued him.

"Perhaps I should," he said carefully.

"That's... what I mean, yeah," Ophelia muttered, relieved.

They walked side by side to the door. She hesitated only a second before pushing it open.

"Ophelia!" her mother cried. "Where have you- oh." Her voice softened, and she blinked in surprise. Twice. Then a smile bloomed across her face. "Severus. What a lovely surprise!"

"If this is an inconvenient time-" he began.

"Not at all," her mother said, voice smooth and practiced. "My husband will be thrilled to see you."

As if summoned, her father appeared in the hallway.

"Severus, my boy!"

Snape's shoulders stiffened, though the movement was slight.

"Come in, come in," her father said, guiding them toward the sitting room.

Ophelia lingered behind them, standing a few paces away, her hands clasped tightly behind her back.

"She hasn't given you trouble, I hope?" her father asked, as if she weren't in the room.

"Not at all," Snape replied, sparing her a glance. Her eyes met his, uncertain and pleading.

"Good," her father nodded, lips curling into a paternal smile. "You're excused, Ophelia. No need to sit through our boring conversations."

He said it with false warmth, but she knew better. Knew that tone. Knew exactly what lay beneath the polished veneer. But she nodded anyway, smiled back, and left the room. The instant they heard her door close, her father turned serious again.

"My daughter would not approve of what we're doing," he said, sinking into an armchair. "She's not like us."

Snape folded his arms. "What are you saying?"

"She doesn't see the world the way I do. I've tried to change that. She sees freedom where I see chaos. She walks out after dark without a second thought. And why shouldn't she?" His brows lifted mockingly. "But she cannot know anything. If we're to succeed, she must stay ignorant. Do you understand?"

Snape's expression hardened. "And why do you suppose I would tell her anything?"

Her father ignored the bite in his voice. "Ophelia is honest, infuriatingly so. She means everything she says, even when she shouldn't. She's ruled by emotion, not reason. Unlike us."

He gestured between them like they were equals. The implication made Snape's skin crawl.

"She makes everything more complicated," Tom continued. "But I think you've noticed that, haven't you?"

Snape tapped his foot against the floor. "Get to the point."

"She likes you, Severus," Tom said bluntly. "And don't pretend you haven't noticed."

Snape's expression didn't waver. "You're mistaken."

"Perhaps." Her father stood, closing the distance between them. "But do not let her find out what we are doing."

"I do not appreciate the distrust," he hissed. "I've done everything you've asked, without hesitation. I've proven my loyalty."

Her father didn't flinch. "I'm not questioning your abilities. I'm reminding you of boundaries."

Snape's jaw clenched. "You're the one who assigned her to me."

"To keep an eye on her," he snapped. "I didn't ask you to teach her bloody Occlumency. I need access to her mind, Severus, not walls."

Snape had heard enough. He was out the door in seconds, muttering an excuse. Not only had he questioned his character, he had also admitted to invading his own daughter's mind. No bruises. No scars. But damage, nonetheless.

"Psst!"

Snape stopped abruptly, putting his thoughts on pause. He was already halfway off the property, eyebrows twitching and hands balled into fists. He almost thought he'd imagined it, but then he heard it again.

"Psst!" It sounded, "hey, Snape!"

He turned around, searching his surroundings after the sound. His eyes trailed over the house before settling on the girl sticking her head out of a window, waving at him. A smile played on her lips, delicate but irrepressible. It was the kind of smile that always seemed to be hiding behind those lips and was just waiting to be tempted out. He didn't wave back. Instead, he rolled his eyes and approached the window.

"Will you ever stop bothering me, little girl?"

Her smile vanished into a dramatic pout. "Will you ever stop calling me girl?"

"You are a girl."

"I am not little," she huffed, folding her arms.

He had to glance away, fighting the smirk tugging at his mouth. Conversing with Ophelia was like dancing on a wire, equal parts chaos and charm. It left him breathless, and occasionally infuriated.

He straightened, trying to keep his face resolutely unimpressed. "What do you want?"

Ophelia leaned forward. "What did you talk with my father about?"

Snape took one step closer to the window. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

"If it was about me, then yes, it absolutely is my business," she insisted.

"Shouldn't you be in there explaining yourself to your father?"

"Shouldn't you be in there kissing his ass?"

Snape scoffed.

"Why are you so nosy, Delisle?"

"Why are you so guarded, Snape?"

They locked eyes. Neither blinked.

Then, softly, he asked, "What happened to your brother?"

She froze. The spark in her eyes died.

"What?"

Snape stepped closer, placing his hands on the windowsill. His voice dropped to a whisper. "What happened to him?"

Her breath quickened. She ran both hands through her hair, stalling. When she met his gaze again, her eyes had changed.

"Why would you ask me that?" she whispered.

"Maybe I'm the nosy one," Snape grinned.

"Oh, you're enjoying this."

Snape shrugged. "Maybe I am."

"No," Ophelia shook her head, "it's more than that." She glared at him, "you push and you pry where you know you shouldn't, you just can't stop yourself," she looked at him in disgust. "What happened to you? Why do you have to be in control, Snape? Who broke you?"

The words struck like lightning, but Snape didn't react. She was expecting fireworks but all she got was ice. Without a word, he pushed off the wall and vanished into thin air with a crack.