#dodie yellow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

anintrovertedechoe · 1 year

Text

moonlight.

mammon x gn!reader

heartfelt fluff

Giggles fill your apartment kitchen, music drowning it all out until you two are the only ones who can hear yourselves. This, you think, is love. Love in its purest and most unadulterated form. Love that is unafraid and comfortable and warm. Love that you could lie and bask in like sunlight on your living room floor on a Sunday afternoon.

He’s shirtless and your chests make contact through your flimsy tacky yellow tank top. (The color is ugly and ‘looks like what spoiled BufoEgg Tea would smell like’ according to Mammon, but yellow is his color and the two of you couldn’t stop laughing when you saw it, so into your cart and wardrobe it went.) His arms wrap around your waist, and he arches his back over you so you can actually reach his shoulders. (Tall bastard, you murmur. Not my fault yer such a short human. He grins. Your palm gently pushes his face away and his smile is so bright it steals the breath from your lungs just like he stole your heart oh so long ago.)

The music hums in the background, Dodie and Laufey play through the speakers, voices creating a gentle melody the two of you hum along to. Your lover is tone-deaf, but you still feel your chest bursting at the seams with love when his voice enters your ears.

The two of you rock to the sides together, holding onto each other so tightly that you feel like you might meld together as one. You voice your thoughts, and Mammon says he doesn’t see a problem with that (he grips you closer to him and meets your eyes and you don’t think you would mind either, if you’re being honest.) The midnight moonlight shines through the kitchen windows, and he tucks his face into the crook of your neck, where you know a crooked smile awaits you. You lean on him and pin his head against you, eliciting a laugh from your lover.

“Love you, Mams.”

“Love y’more.” And you can’t help but press your lips against his at the response. It is soft, and sweet, and slow. I am yours. I would follow you to the ends of all of the three realms if you asked me to. I love you. I love you. I love you, it says.

And you think you would stay like this forever, if you could. Right here, right now, with Greed in your arms and Dear Soulmate ringing throughout the room. How fitting it is, that Laufey’s melodious voice starts her chorus as his forehead presses against yours, blue-gold eyes shining so soft in the light you can’t help but melt.

Suddenly you’re pressed against the counter, his arms trapping you against him and suddenly Mammon is at your ear whispering, “Play the song.” Less of a demand and more of a plea, sweet and nearly silent, his voice sends shivers down your spine.

You can’t help but bask in the endearment that surges through you. A hand tangles itself and plays within the white locks belonging to the second-born Sin.

“What song?” A teasing grin from you. A whine from Mammon.

“Y’know, the song.” He pouts against you and his hair tickles your nose as he buries himself further into the space between your head and shoulders as you laugh at his antics.

“Need’ya to tell me what song, baby. Can’t read minds, y’know.” You know exactly what song he’s talking about.

“I hate ya, y’know.”

“You love me.”

He dramatically sighs against your neck. “Wish I didn’t.” A lie and you both know it. Still doesn’t make your smile any less wide.

“Mean. M’not playing the song for you now.”

“You said you didn’t know the song?!” A cry of outrage and mock indignation. You hastily shush him and break out into a fit of quiet laughter.

You motion for him to lean in closer, before whispering urgently and dramatically,

“I lied.”

“…”

“I was serious when I said I hated ya, y’know.”

A series of breathy giggles leave you and quickly reach Greed’s ears, and soon enough he’s barking out laughter alongside you.

It’s in moments like these that you know things are going to be alright. No matter what, you’ll have your Mammon by your side, and that means things will be okay.

You remember a time before him, before the love of your life was yours, and you can’t believe you ever thought you were alive before him. Darkness had filled every part of your being, and the days had dragged on, long and pointless. You remember coming home to your empty apartment, and the bitterness that used to form a pit in your chest and choke you to the point of tears.

Before you met the boy with stars in his eyes, you didn’t think you would live to your next birthday. How fitting it was, that he had come in in your darkest moments, only to fill you with light. (The sun seemed dim compared to his smile, and you fondly remember the moment you realized that you would do anything for that smile, no matter how troublesome or ridiculous his scheming may be at times.)

“Watcha thinking ‘bout?” A casually posed question, but his eyes betray the slight worry that stained his face.

Mammon, your Mammon. The love of your life and beyond. What would you do without this precious boy? What would you do without the greedy Mammon who willingly had let you steal his golden heart? (You treasure him as though he is the most precious jewel, and Greed finds himself melting into you more often than not partially to avoid being witnessed as the blushing mess he becomes whenever he looks into your eyes, filled with love. All for him, you tell him. And despite being Greed incarnate, he cannot imagine taking all of the entirety that is your love.)

“Nothin’, just thinking about how much I love ya, Mams.”

He blushes furiously and tries stammering out a response, only to give up and once again bury his face into the crook of your neck, whining and mumbling something along the lines of ‘not fair’ and ‘…love ya’ more, human.’ Against your skin.

And while the moonlight shines and Mitski plays in the background, you play his song and sway with him once more.

i love him ur honor. i am in love with him ur honor. i would do anything for this man. tooth-rotting fluff is not a can, but a must.

please please please please offer feedback and criticism hes my fav character and i want to make sure my writing and characterization did him justice :((

anyways yeah credit to @pothologics for the banger playlist that inspired me to write this

403 notes · View notes

tastesbloody · 7 months

Text

Me & The Devil - Chapter 1

(Severus Snape X Female Reader)

'Me & The Devil' Masterlist

Description: You're a naturally gifted Legilimens, leading to Dumbledore recruiting you to join the faculty at Hogwarts in order to help protect Harry Potter and defend Hogwarts, before eventually recruiting you into The Order of The Phoenix.

However the longer you spend at Hogwarts, the more your feelings for the cold brooding potions master grow, despite your attempt to push them aside.

Notice: Some events in the story play out differently in this fic due to you being at Hogwarts and you being a Legilimens and there's a 7 year age gap between you and Snape. Also this series is going to be partially based off of the books and partially based off of the films

Word Count: 4,320

Warnings: Age gap

This Chapters Song/s:

Hate Myself - Dodie

FanFic Playlist

Gif is not mine

You stood in the headmasters office, the autumn sun streaming through the windows.

Besides Severus Snape, you had also discovered- upon first meeting the head master of Hogwarts, that you weren’t able to peer into the mind of Albus Dumbledore either. Because of this, you couldn’t help but feel that same sense of vulnerability you had when first meeting Snape. Defenceless. You’re tools not working. Like a blacksmith with no fire, or like a knight running into battle with a sword but no armour or shield.

“You seem nervous”, Dumbledore's voice pulls you from your thoughts. It's starting to feel as though that’s all people here see you as; a ball of nervousness. It made you feel like a liability rather than someone of help.

“Forgive me, Professor”, you say, attempting to shake off your uneasy aura.

“You needn’t worry. No one else here can read my mind. Rest assured, if I disliked you, you’d know”.

“I feel it’s slightly unfair that you can defend yourself so easily against my abilities, yet you can read my mind so easily”, you laugh at the irony, shaking your head slightly at your predicament.

“I’m not reading your mind. Once you’ve worked in my field for as long as I have, reading people becomes easy. Even without the art of Ligilimency”, Dumbledore chuckled and gestures for you to take the seat opposite him at his desk, to which you comply. “You shouldn’t have to rely on it to make others like you. You can be yourself here”, he reassured you before offering you a bowl of sunny yellow hardboiled sweets. “Sherbet Lemon?”, he offered. You smiled sheepishly and took one from the bowl before placing it in your mouth.

“So, regarding Professor Lupin...”, Dumbledore began. “You’ve spent a lot of time around him these past few weeks. What’s your verdict”.

“He is not working with Sirius Black”, you state clearly. “He is still grieving the loss of his friends and he fears for Harry’s well being. He sees so much of James in him. If he were working with him, he would have slipped up by now”.

Dumbledore gave a single nod before asking, “And what of the other staff?”.

“Nothing to note. The only one I can’t speak for would be Severus. He won’t let his guard down for a second”.

“I’m not concerned with Severus. I trust him. Yet, it wouldn’t hurt if you were to gain his trust”, he hummed, allowing himself to mull over his thoughts. “Yes, I think that would be best. Given his talent for Occlumency and your natural Legilimency gift, as well as him being the Potions Master here at Hogwarts and yourself becoming a teacher of Herbology, the two of you shall be working very closely, I can assure you”.

“Of course. I’ll see what I can do”, is all you said in response, an uncomfortable knot forming in your stomach at the idea of spending so much time with someone you could not read at all.

“I’ll also request he helps you with Occlumency since with the amount of information you’ll be trusted with, we should have you prepared to defend yourself if needed”.

You swallowed thickly at the mention of this but agreed nonetheless.

After your first report to Dumbledore, that same night, Snape had approached you after dinner. He pulled you aside as you left the hall, leading you roughly by the arm out of site from the students and other faculty members. You jolted in surprise, initially digging your heels into the ground to prevent you from moving, before realising it was Snape who had your upper arm in a vice like grip.

“For the love of Merlin! You know if you want to talk to a woman, you don’t manhandle her into a quiet corridor”, you grumble as you straightened out your robes, wincing at the residual pain from where Severus had clamped on to your arm. “It makes you seem like some deranged nutcase”.

“Do forgive me. I had no idea you were so sensitive”, he states bluntly, a snarl curling onto his lips as he glanced down at where you nursed your now sore arm, not sounding apologetic in the slightest.

“And I had no idea you were so rough”, you frown, glaring into his deep, dark eyes. You’re about to speak, but Snape beats you to it.

“Professor Dumbledore has asked that I assist you in developing your Occlumency skills”, he drawls before quirking an eyebrow. “I must say, I’m surprised someone so skilled in Legilimency struggles with basic Occlumency”.

“I don’t struggle with the basics”, you snap back, Snape folding his arms in front of himself as he glares down at you. Having him stand within a step of you makes the height difference between the both of you feel much greater, having to crane your head up slightly to meet his cold gaze. “No one taught me... Everyone assumes I’m also naturally gifted with Occlumency too. Not to mention I’ve never had a reason to defend myself against such magic until now”.

Snape tilts his head just a fraction as he watched you, face not changing in the slightest. You wish you could tell what he was thinking. “We begin this weekend. Saturday and Sunday afternoons. We shall continue to meet until I can no longer penetrate that dull mind of yours”, and with that Snape leaves, leaving you with your mouth slightly agape once again, not having expected the added insult. Your temporary shock is then converted into a rage that bubbles under your skin and you storm off to your chamber, hating yourself for not saying anything in response before Snape had stormed away.

A few days later, you and Lupin had been lounging in the staff room, huddled close to the fire place as the weather had suddenly grown much colder.

“Severus has never been good at talking to pretty women... or women in general for that matter”, Remus teased as you ran your hand gently over the bruise that had formed from where Snape had grabbed you.

You shoved the scruffy man playfully, but added with a more serious note, “Don’t say that”. You would agree that Snape wasn’t the best, however you believed that didn’t give Remus the right to tease him.

“You shouldn’t defend him so much, you know”, Remus scoffed.

“I’m not defending him. I just don’t agree with bullying others”, you rolled your eyes playfully.

“I that’s hardly fair when he is the one bullying his students on a daily basis”, Remus shot back.

“I know. I don’t necessarily agree with his teaching methods”, you shook your head. “I know he gives that boy- Neville Longbottom- a hard time. The poor thing”, you frown.

“Yes, he’s had a serious effect on Neville. So much so that his boggart takes the form of Professor Snape”. Your eyes widened at this news. “I must say though, Neville’s use of ‘Riddikulus’ was very amusing to say the least”, he chuckled as he leaned back against the sofa and you allowed yourself to peer into his memory as he recalled it.

Snape strode out of the wardrobe, sauntering his way over to Longbottom, a malicious glint in those deep dark eyes. Neville was trembling on the spot, making your heart ache for the boy, wanting to reach out and comfort him more than anything.

Remus called out for Neville to prepare himself and a moment later Neville cast his spell...

“Riddikulus!”

Snape’s regular black robes were replaced by an emerald green skirt and matching blazer, red handbag and an eyesore of a hat with a vulture perched atop it. The class erupted into laughter and an amazed smile flickered across Neville's face before he begins laughing along with his classmates.

You found yourself giggling along with Remus at the memory. “It sounds like your lesson was interesting to say the least”, you mused. “I remember the first time I fought a boggart at school”, you began. “It had taken the form of a giant void that slowly grew in size, gradually swallowing up the classroom... the fear of the unknown”, you explained, casting a glance to Remus who seemed fascinated by your tale. “I then used ‘Riddikulus’ to turn it into the night sky, full of stars and fireworks. I didn’t pass since my result wasn’t humour, but oh well”, you laughed off your memory.

‘I bet it looked wonderful’.

A comfortable silence settled over the pair of you as you listened to the fire crackle and roar.

“I can’t believe he’s been spotted near the castle”, you suddenly said, a frown swarming your features. “He really is trying to get to the Potter boy... isn’t he?”.

Lupin looked over your worried features before patting a reassuring hand against yours, much like Minerva had on your first day. “Seems that way doesn’t it”, he nodded. “We have to be on our guard. If Sirius Black was able to escape from Azkaban, who knows what else he’s capable of”, Remus muttered bitterly, before releasing a tense sigh. “But I’m sure everything will be fine. Hogwarts is the safest place I know”.

You couldn’t help but let out a laugh of disbelief as you watched the flames dance around the fireplace. “After hearing what occurred here the past two years?... I wouldn’t be so sure of that”.

The Friday before your first Occlumency session with Snape , you were teaching your third year class, with Professor Sprout observing the lesson.

You seemed to get along with the majority of the students. Many liked the fact that you had no bias towards any of the four houses since you didn’t belong to one. Many others felt as though they could relate to you more due to you being younger than their other professors. It seemed to make you more relatable and more approachable in their minds.

You had a pot of Niffler’s Fancy on the table, discussing it’s properties and uses, as well as explaining to your class how it’s leaves are known to be used as a form of primitive currency.

“Now, do any of you have an inkling as to why this plant is named ‘Niffler’s Fancy’?”, you ask the class, a few hands shooting up. You noticed one boy raise his arm a little slower than the others, uncertainty written all over his features, but he was trying and you wanted to give him the chance.

‘It’s because nifflers are attracted to shiny and valuable objects and their leaves are like copper’, you could hear his thoughts.

“Yes, Mr Longbottom?”, you called on him.

“Is it because of its leaves?”, he asked more than answered your question.

“You’re certainly on the right track. Can you elaborate why it’s leaves may give it its name?”, you pushed, wanting him to answer correctly. A few other hands shot up to answer around him, but you disregarded them, wanting to give Neville the confidence boost he so desperately needed.

“Is it because nifflers are attracted to valuable objects like gold, silver, bronze, diamonds, and it’s leaves are bronze”, he began to trail off, once again sounding unsure of himself.

“Yes! Exactly, well done Mr Longbottom!”, you praised him, earning a bashful grin from the boy.

As you walked past him later in the lesson, you quietly said to him, “Have more confidence in yourself Neville. You’re smarter than you think”, to which he nodded timidly in response.

The remainder of the lesson ran smoothly. Students taking notes and you answering any questions they had before you then set a short piece of homework to do some further research into what Niffler’s Fancy could possibly be used for.

“What a splendid lesson! Well done!”, Professor Sprout cheered as the students spilled out of the room, heading back towards the castle.

“Thank you, Pomona”, you said gleefully, pride swelling in your chest as you cleared up the classroom. “The third years are my favourite year group to teach. They’re all so wonderful”, you gushed.

“Yes, they are quite a talented bunch”, Pomona agreed, helping you to clear the last few bits. “Since you’ve got a free period, would you mind running a few ingredients down to Severus in the dungeons”. You cringed at the thought, not wanting to have to interact with the berating potions master unless absolutely necessary. Pomona must have noticed your reaction as she then said, “Come on, stay professional. He’s not that bad”. She quickly made her way to her stock cupboard and pulled out a few jars of various ingredients; mandrake root, wormwood and wolfsbane were a few you recognised. “The sooner you take these to him, the sooner you can leave and carry on about your day”.

“You’re right”, you exhale, running a hand through your hair. She made a strong point. This was part of your job. You had to remain professional.

Pomona places the jars in your arms and before you know it, you’re sent on your way to the dungeons.

It was cold down in the depths of the castle and a damp smell lingered in the air. You couldn’t help but wonder how the Slytherin students could stand having their common room down here. You walked along the dark hallways, searching for the correct class room, following the faint sound of bubbling cauldrons. Eventually you found the man you were looking for.

You peered through the doorway to the class, spotting Severus looming over his students, circling around them like a vulture. He was watching their every move, like he was waiting for one of them to make a mistake, or perhaps in attempts to prevent one from happening. Once again, you couldn’t tell. The man was unreadable.

Surprisingly, it was a handful of the students in the class who noticed your presence first as you stood in the doorway. The others remained focused on their work. Their minds either thinking about how much they disliked the lesson they were currently in, how much they disliked Snape, or how they were riddled with stress and anxiety about ruining their concoction.

Once Snape had noticed eyes lingering on the doorway to his classroom instead of their cauldrons, his eyes snapped to you. Eyes narrowing in your direction.

“I have some ingredients for you, Professor Snape”, you said simply, gesturing to the multiple jars in your arms.

Snape stormed towards you, and you decided to meet him half way. “Would you mind not distracting my students from their studies the next time you deliver ingredients to me”, he grumbled, taking three jars from you.

‘He’s so rude-‘, ‘I can’t believe he said that-‘, ‘but she’s so nice-‘.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes in disbelief as you followed Severus to one of the many shelves lining the class. “I am in no way trying to distract your pupils, Severus. Although if you do have an issue with my presence in your classroom, perhaps next time you need your potions ingredients you should retrieve them yourself”, you shot back, earning a deathly glare from the potions master in return as he snatched the remaining jars from your grasp. But he didn’t say anything, no harsh retort. It was probably because he knew you had a point.

‘It’s like watching an angel and a demon trying to have a conversation, or like an overgrown bat and a princess’.

You were unsure which one of the students it had been to think this, but you had to bite your lip harshly, a giggle threatening to bubble up your throat and fill the silent classroom. Snape quirked a brow at you’re sudden amusement and asked, “Amused are we?”.

“No, no, no, Severus”, you attempted to silence the laugh that was tickling the back of your throat.

There was a moment of silence as he glanced over your features, before he uttered, “get out of my classroom”. Though his words held no hostility, they did carry a strong unamused tone.

As you left, you muttered under your breath, “A simple thank you would have been nice”, rounding the corner and disappearing out of site from the potions master, happy to be leaving the dank dungeons.

But you would be back there.

Less than twenty-four hours later.

You sat on a stool in Snape’s classroom on the chilly Saturday afternoon, Severus paced in front of you with folded arms, his gaze once again so intense it made you want to curl in on yourself. You hated it. You hated yourself for allowing him to make you feel that way. You felt like he was peering into your very soul, and your ‘lesson’ hadn’t even started yet.

“I shall attempt to penetrate your mind. And you shall attempt to stop me”, he instructed sharply and clearly, making you feel as though you were back at school again. “We shall start with the basics and build up your resistance from there”.

You couldn’t deny the tension that hung in the air, it feeling so thick that it was almost suffocating.

“Okay”, you say, preparing yourself.

Occlumency was easy in theory, yet putting it to practice was a completely different matter.

Snape came to a stop in front of you as he pulled his wand from the inner pocket of his robes and pointed it in your direction. You felt your throat go dry and your pulse rise. For the first time since you had entered his classroom, the two of you locked eyes.

You felt like a deer in headlights.

Like a lamb come face to face with a wolf.

Like standing on the edge of a precipice before the fall...

“Legilimens”

Snape felt everything. Your fear and anxiety. The chill against your skin from the colds of the dungeon. How his eyes on you made you feel as though you were made of glass and he was staring straight through you.

You attempted to go numb. Letting go of everything. Pretending that none of those feelings existed. Embracing the cold and allowing yourself to take a breath... Relax.

Snape finally withdrew.

You took a moment to compose yourself, feeling a little self conscious and embarrassed.

Severus’ gaze flickered from you to the floor then back to you, his features expressionless.

You both remained silent until he finally spoke. “You were too slow to respond. You have to be quicker. You must shut off everything immediately”.

“I know”, you sighed, wrapping your arms around yourself, more for comfort than warmth.

“Again”, Snape ordered before once again casting his spell.

“Legilimens”

He felt the twinge of embarrassment you now felt, the chill of your skin, before you managed to shut him out.

“Quicker!”, he snapped, making you feel like a child being scolded by their teacher and causing a searing anger to begin simmering within you.

Once again, Snape invaded your mind.

“Growing a little frustrated are we?”, he taunted but you chose to ignore his comment, instead focusing on pushing your emotions down, burying them deep within you.

You focused on your heart rate and took a deep breath in, allowing your mind to go empty. You closed your eyes and pictured nothing, letting the empty blackness consume your vision. Slowly you released your breath, feeling your heart beat beneath your chest at a steady pace.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

As you slowly opened your eyes, your line of sight instantly connected with Severus’ once more. You wondered what lay beneath the dark depths of his eyes. You had to admit, despite his awful personality, you found Snape fascinating.

“Legilimens”

This time, there was nothing. You were like a void. An abyss. He couldn’t feel anything as you sat, staring at him, your defences unwavering. The only thing he could feel was the cold dungeon air against your skin.

Eventually, Snape’s posture relaxed, lowering his wand as the tension seemed to leave his shoulders. “It seems as though you can manage the basics”, he drawled, glowering down at you.

“I did tell you, I don’t struggle with the basics. I just haven’t had much practice”, you challenged him, his face unchanging. More silence followed. It seemed as though that’s all your conversations were when Snape wasn’t trying to insult you. Silence.

“Is this why you’re always so stoic?”, the question had slipped past your lips before you truly contemplated what you were asking. “Are you always making use of your Occlumency skills; completely shutting yourself off from your emotions to prevent anyone from peering into how you’re truly feeling or what you’re thinking?”, you asked, trying to quench that curiosity that brewed away in your mind as to who this man truly was; why he acted the way he did; what he thought. However, you knew you had made a mistake when Snape chose not to respond.

“I can’t say I blame you”, you added awkwardly, trying to relieve the tension. “I’m aware of what people think of me and my abilities without having to read their minds. People hate it, so I understand why you’d constantly defend yourself from me. Also I’m sure you have other reasons for using Occlumency- ...”, you added with an awkward laugh, yet he still didn’t respond. “I’m sorry, Severus”.

“Stop your rambling”, he spat back.

There was another pause before Snape unfastened his cloak, slowly stalking towards you. You felt your heart beat quicken as apprehension clenched at your stomach, fearing what he would do next, shivering in your seat slightly. With a flourish, his cloak encompassed your being, settling on your shoulders comfortably, shielding you from the cold of the dungeon and providing you with some extra warmth, Severus’ body heat still lingering in the fibres. You watched him, wide eyed and speechless at his action, feeling as though all the wind had been knocked out of your lungs.

“Don’t look at me like that”, he growled as he fastened the clasp around your neck. “It’ll be more difficult for you to focus if you’re as cold as a corpse”, he huffed before standing, and returning to his previous place.

“Thank you, Severus”, you say softly in no more than a whisper, like this small act of kindness was a secret to be kept between the two of you.

You wrapped the cloak around you a little more. You assumed it would have a distinct scent; potions ingredients or damp like the dungeons. But it didn’t smell of anything, in the same sense that whenever you arrived home, it smelt like home. Nothing else. The cloak just smelt of him. “Won’t you be cold?”, you asked gently.

Severus looked you over once again, his eyes falling from your face to your frame draped in his cloak and back, before discarding your comment completely.

“Since you seem to be able to manage the basics of protecting your emotions from a legilimency spell, we shall move on to protecting your thoughts and memories. Do as you had before. Allow your mind to go blank. Feel nothing”, Severus instructed carefully. “Legilimens”.

Flickers of the first time you had met Severus danced across the forefront of your mind. His imposing presence looming over you as he scolded you for being a liability. The feeling of shame and hurt washing over you before the vision changed.

You cringed as Severus delved deeper into your mind.

“I’m sorry”.

That familiar voice.

“I just can’t be with someone who knows my every thought”. You could feel your heart shredding at these words, once again.

“Control yourself”, you herd Snape’s words call out. You focused on them, allowing them to bring you back to the present.

You fought to focus on the memory created just moments ago, of Severus wrapping his cloak around you in order to ground yourself in the present, as you repeated his words in your mind.

‘Control yourself’.

As you continued to repeat those two words to yourself, you allowed your mind to empty. Memories attempted to flicker to the foreground, but each time you doused the memory in darkness.

Finally, Snape withdrew from your mind and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“Your reaction times are slow”, he mumbled.

“I know. I’m sorry-“.

“Stop apologising and act on it instead”, he snapped while you bit your lip to silence yourself. “With more practice you’ll improve. We will gradually increase the intensity until your mind is impenetrable”, he informs you.

For the next few hours, you repeat these steps; Snape invading your mind; you block him; repeat. By the end of your session, you had actually made some progress.

Before you left, you had unfastened Snape’s cloak from around your shoulders, dusting it off of any marks you may have left on it and admiring the luxurious material as you ran your hand over it.

“It was kind of you, allowing me to borrow this, Severus. Thank you”, you say, offering it back with a bashful smile. “I promise to bring a cloak of my own next time”.

He snatched the item of clothing from you, face unchanging. “Yes, that would be best”, he replied curtly as you made your way to the door.

“Thank you again for the lesson, Severus...”, you said, waiting for the potions master to say something in response. But he didn’t... and with that you left the classroom, leaving Severus clinging to his cloak.

118 notes · View notes