Snape's New Flower

Invitation

I woke to find myself alone in a foreign bed, my head throbbing. I rubbed my temples, trying to recollect the events of last night. After a minute, I came to the conclusion that he carried me here, as I have only a vague memory of him tucking me in. My shoes and socks had been removed too, and my hair let down from the bun it was in.

I sat up to study what I presumed to be his bedroom, but it was too dark. Of course his bedroom would be, that dang emo. I opened the curtains to let in the light for the first time in a century by the looks of it. I squinted, finding it so bright that it hurt my head. It must have been approaching noon. How long did I sleep?

Whatever. I looked around, running my fingers over his belongings. He had a cabinet with various phials and rough looking notebooks. On his dresser stood an action figure of a cliché wizard, which reminded me of Dumbledore, with his long beard and colourful robes.

There was a leather chair in the corner of his room, and I sunk into it, scanning through the books that sat on his bedside table. I didn't recognize any of the titles, but they sounded like some pretty heavy reading. Maybe that's what he gets up to in his spare time. I always wondered that to be honest, even before I saw him in this new romantic light. Snape was always an enigma, and one I wanted to solve.

In my seven years at Hogwarts, Severus never gave any insight on his life or personality. He presented himself as a gloomy man who didn't care about anything, let alone the students he taught. He did the bare minimum when it came to teaching. He gave the lessons, assignments, and grades. His criticisms bordered insults more often than not, and he never smiled.

I liked learning about potions, even though I struggled with it. But thinking back, I don't remember him being as harsh to me as he was other students. I had to ask him about that, if I got the chance.

I threw myself back in his bed, absorbing everything, his room, his scent, and most importantly, the memories of our date. He had taken me to a fancy restaurant, as if we were just a normal couple. He paid for dinner, he ordered us wine, and he held my hand. A perfect gentleman, really. Just then I remembered what happened afterwards. We came here, started kissing, and-

Oh no. My hands flew to my eyes, a mix of regret and shame. I came onto Snape. My professor. And he turned me down.

My embarrassment was interrupted by a knock on the door, "are you awake?"

Bloody hell. What do I say? How can I look him in the eyes ever again? I touched him. After a long silence, I spat out nervously, "just one second."

I paced around the room, telling myself it was okay. He kissed me back, and he hadn't exactly said no. What was it he said, 'not tonight'? That's not so bad. It wasn't a rejection so much as him acting responsibly. It would have been unfortunate to not remember my first time.

Okay, we're fine then. I could face him.

I walked to the door, opening it, but he had left already, presumably to give me privacy. I headed downstairs in bare feet and messy hair, following the sound of movement. The sitting room was empty, and the noise was coming from the kitchen.

I peeked in.

The table was set, a kettle whistling from the stovetop, and Severus bringing a stack of pancakes to the table which already had scrambled eggs, sausages, and toast on it. He noticed my presence, even before I had fully entered the room, and said, "I didn't know what you liked."

Sev didn't hate me, he didn't want to end things with me. He... made me breakfast. I was overwhelmed with all the love I felt for him at this moment and walked over to him, taking his face in my hands, and kissing him. "You didn't have to do all this, Sev."

He looked slightly embarrassed, "you missed breakfast at Hogwarts because of me."

"I would take this set up over the Great Hall any day," I said, laughing, but it was the honest truth. "And your company."