Darkness had descended upon London hours ago. The bank of fog that had rolled in soon afterwards softened the harsh lines of the buildings and made the cobblestones underneath his feet gleam with wetness. The street lamps glowed overhead, casting dim pools of golden light that did little to illuminate the area and even less to reveal his presence just in the entrance of the alley.
Across the street, the doors to the legal firm opened and she stepped out. From where Severus stood, he could not see her face clearly as she pulled her cloak close, but there was no mistaking who she was. He had instructed Jessica for seven years and recognized the way she canted her head as she peered down the street before walking down the steps.
She walks in beauty, like the night.
The line of poetry teased at Severus' mind, as it always did when he thought of her. It provoked him to mentally respond, However, not in cloudless climes, and the stars, if they are out, are invisible with this fog.
The hour was late. Businesses, both Muggle and wizard alike, had closed hours ago. Most workers had rejoined their families or long since headed down to the pub to celebrate Voldemort's demise, but Jessica was only just leaving.
Predictable, he thought. Although long five long years, including the rise and very recent fall of Voldemort, might have passed since she left Hogwarts, still Jessica maintained the hard-working ethics of a Hufflepuff.
Severus touched the barely healed scars on his throat. The Dark Lord's fall had only occurred less than a week ago. He was sure the absence of his body had been noted, but no one had started the hunt for him. Yet.
With a sigh, Severus followed Jessica. The street lamps she strode under painted her light brown hair with golden streaks. If he were to be successful in avoiding a prolonged stay in Azkaban, he would need her assistance. It was just as well he had kept tabs on his former student.
Jessica dodged a group that spilled out of a pub. One of the men hailed Jessica by name. His arm was wrapped around the waist of a fetching young witch. Ignoring them, she ducked down a crooked lane that ran past the pub.
She couldn't help but to shoot a quick glance over her shoulder, though. "At least my arse doesn't have its own gravitational orbit," Jessica muttered with regard to the other witch's generous figure, much to Severus' startled amusement.
The lane she traveled was empty, save for a stray cat nosing about a pile of trash. Her footsteps rang out; the stiletto-heeled boots, while undeniably sexy, were loud in the confined alleyway.
Severus followed, a near silent shadow. As he passed the cat, though, it sensed his presence and hissed. Jessica's steps faltered and she looked over her shoulder.
"Is someone there?"
The line of her shoulders was tense and gave lie to the surety in her voice. As Severus watched, she covertly slipped a hand into her pocket.
The war might be over and Harry Potter declared a hero, but Jessica still showed caution. Severus approved of her vigilance; with a handful of Death Eaters still on the run, it was necessary.
"I mean you no harm," he said, emerging from the shadows. Severus' voice was hoarse, a guttural reminder of the wounds he nearly hadn't survived. "Had that been my intention, Miss Bell, you would not have made it this far."
"Professor Snape!"
Jessica's face was a portrait of surprise. Her wand was in her hand a heartbeat later.
In a show of trust, Severus displayed empty hands. "Certainly the days of addressing me as professor have long since passed."
A wry smile curled Jessica's lips. "If not professor, then how should I address you?"
And all that's best of dark and bright meet in her aspect and her eyes …
He bit down on those words, locking them behind his teeth. Instead, he countered, "How do you address your clients?"
The question caused Jessica's eyebrows to fly upward even as her wand was lowered. "My clients usually aren't wanted on charges of being a Death Eater or the murder of Albus Dumbledore."
"Those are the very reasons I have come to speak with you. I find myself in the position of needing a solicitor."
That she invited him back to her office was a good sign. Engaging her curiosity was the merely the first step; invoking her sense of justice would be necessary and that required explaining, at least in brief, his position within the Order, the tasks he had been assigned and how he had survived Nagini's attack.
"Did Dumbledore leave any material noting that he ordered you to carry out his death?"
A notebook lay in her lap. Several pages were covered in her familiar handwriting. The intervening years had seen her blossom into her own. Not that it was surprising to Severus; he had kept a watchful eye over Jessica, although always from a distance. He languidly raised his gaze from her lap, lingering, if only for a moment, on her chest, before meeting her eyes. Her reaction was amusing; she unconsciously smoothed her skirt.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow so soft, so calm, yet eloquent …
The lines that went through Severus' mind made his lips twitch. "No, I suspect not," he answered finally. "There is, however, his portrait."
Each Headmaster had a portrait at Hogwarts. They were bound to assist the school and its current Headmaster.
"True. Testimony of a portrait can be tricky to submit, but only with older paintings. I don't think there should be a problem, but I feel compelled to warn you, Snape, that providing memories may be required."
Lifting the cup of tea upwards, he replied, "If that is what you desire, Miss Bell."
The double meaning that could be applied to that statement was not lost on Jessica. She uncrossed her legs and noticed her former instructor's eyes follow the movement over the rim of the teacup. It was startling, yet she couldn't deny the tiny blossom of pleasure unfurling in her chest.
Standing up, she placed her notebook aside and reached for a sheet of parchment from a stack off the bookshelf. She leaned over the desk, wrote a few lines, and then nibbled on her quill absentmindedly. What she had written consisted of possible defenses and angles that could be used in his case.
The position Jessica had assumed was provocative. The stiletto boots perked her backside in a manner Severus found enticing, and her shirt gaped partially open, providing a tantalizing glimpse of breasts encased in a black, lacey bra.
"I can start work tomorrow and contact the barrister. In the meantime, though, what about your accommodations?" She tilted her head up slightly and caught Severus staring down her shirt.
He ignored the question. "Do you still make a habit of leaning over your desk, just as you did back in Potions?" he asked, not in the least bit flustered at being caught ogling her breasts. "Or should I assume it's something in which you only indulge in my presence?"
That made her flush. Jessica had not realized her crush had been so evident. She had strove so hard to keep it under wraps. Had it become common knowledge, she would never have heard the end of it. Students might develop an attachment on certain instructors, such as Professor Ellington or Vector, but never Professor Snape, scourge of the dungeons and Head of Slytherin.
"You – you knew?" The question tumbled from lips that curved upwards before she could stop it.
The smiles that win, the tints that glow but tell of days in goodness spent …
He answered with a husky chuckle. "How could I not? You took such great pains to do so at every opportunity in Potions during your last year."
One hand fluttered up to the opening of her shirt. For a moment, she played with the topmost button as she tried to regain control over her thoughts and the conversation. Flirting with a client was not something she usually did.
"Your accommodations …" she said in an attempt to return to a safer topic.
Severus leaned forward and boldly traced a thumb over the back of her other hand where it lay on the desk. The touch made her shiver.
"What they make up for in security, they distinctly lack in the way of company."
There was no mistaking the invitation in his dark eyes. Her breathing came quicker.
"Why me? There are dozens of solicitors that you could have selected who are more qualified to help handle your case."
"They are not you."
She shook her head. "You do realize that behavior such as shagging a client is generally frowned upon."
"So is shagging one's student."
Could he have harbored such feelings when she was a student? Jessica thought it impossible. There hadn't been even a hint of it.
"How many have you desired to engage in that behavior with, then?"
His answer was succinct. "One. You." Long, pale fingers traced the line of her jaw.
When his lips claimed hers, all thoughts of possible defenses and mitigating circumstances of his case fled her mind. There was only the sensation of his lips slanting across hers and the taste of his mouth. She was breathless when he finally relented.
"Shall we continue discussing my case somewhere more private, Jessica?"
It made her smile, her given name on his lips after being called Miss Bell for so long. She came around to his side of the desk and took the arm he offered her.
A mind at peace with all below, a heart whose love is innocent …
"Yes, Severus."
Or not, he amended.
The distinctive crack of Disapparition rang through the office and then all was silent.
~ Finite ~
Author's Notes:
This one-shot was written ages ago and was the product of a Drabble-It-Forward meme for roses_at_sunset/h-vic. She asked for pairing with Severus/whoever my muse selected, and then provided the wicked prompt of stiletto heels. In turn, I took a few liberties and stole a line Hannah had once mentioned regarding arses and gravitational fields.
Thanks to emmelineriddle for taking on this beta job on short notice, for help with the British aspects of the tale and for squee'ing in general.
Story title and lines of poetry come from She Walks in Beauty by Lord Byron and written in 1814.