Chapter 8. Over a Glass of Fire Whiskey.
The next day, Defense against the dark arts was just as boring and useless as I had dreaded. We spent the full lesson copying out the same basic paragraph twenty times to ensure it stuck in our minds.
I often glanced up at Professor Umbridge with a strong spurt of loathing, sickened to see her sweet, superior smile. After last night with Snape, there was the added reassurance, the fear that the dark lord was back, and being in here made me desperate and mad. I needed to learn how to defend myself. We all did.
George told me whilst we were passing classes that Harry had written to Sirius about what had been going on here at Hogwarts, Umbridge and the ministry’s interference. I had just finished writing to Remus too, so the order was well aware. George grinned and stole a quick kiss before heading off to his class.
Guilt. I felt it again.
I was looking forward to Potions and was relieved when I made it early this time. Snape was standing with his back to me, preparing things on his desk. Feeling reckless and buzzing with a need for him, I checked behind me to judge if I had time, and then sweeping up behind him, I wrapped my arms around his body, pressing myself to him.
Snape swung around immediately pressing his wand to my throat. A tiny flash of fear crossed me but I let it go quickly assuming he would lower his wand when he saw it was me. Only he didn’t.
“You insolent little brat,” he said sneering in vile anger, “How dare you. You know that the class will be filing in at any second and I won’t tolerate your reckless, idiotic-“
“I’m sorry,” I blurted, now feeling sincerely apologetic. I sighed, “I just needed that, that’s all,” I whispered.
Snape lowered his wand and stood back a fraction.
“George kissed me,” I admitted with clear shame evident in my voice. Snape grew rigid and his eyes were suddenly burning with hatred. He even shook a little, looking violent. His face, still, stayed perfectly calm and anyone else would’ve thought he had not heard or did not care. But I knew this man, and I could pick up on his subtle reactions.
“And I wished it was you,” I ventured on, sheepishly.
Snape’s eyes flickered towards the door and after hesitating, stepped closer to me and for a brief second I thought he was going to grant it.
He sneered, “Would you like me to poison your boyfriend? I could do it you know.”
I paused. Then I laughed, melodically and I saw Snape relax at the sound.
“I could end it with him,” I suggested softly. Admittedly, there was a hint of sadness at the thought, but there was a stronger sense of peace. I knew it was the right thing to do.
Snape frowned. “As much as it pains me to admit I think it were best that you stay with the boy.”
