Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or their back-stories or really most of the concepts in this. I just manipulated characters in J.K Rowling's wonderful series to fit my creative whim.
Mint on my Pillow
It had been a long summer. Weeks spent in St. Mungo's, months clearing up the wreckage of Hogwarts. He knew he should be happy just to be alive but who said he wanted to be. He was the youngest potions master the world had ever seen, did the Granger girl really think he wanted the blood replenishing potion she shoved down his throat? He was the first healer to the Dark Lord's ranks, did she really think he couldn't have healed the snake bite if he wanted?
He had awoken two weeks after the battle, chained to a bed in the Magical Maladies Ward. The venom had left him in a cursed state that took another three weeks to recover from enough to be released. Minerva had offered him a teary welcome back to Hogwarts as the Deputy Headmaster and Head of Slytherin, to teach whatever post he desired. In the end he had decided to stay with Defense Against the Dark Arts. He did love Potions yes, however standing there day after day watching students make a mockery of them, failing on even the most simple of tasks. It was downright maddening, and for once in his life he didn't want to live in the darkness of the Dungeons.
A calloused hand ran through his now short, jagged hair. It had been cut haphazardly during his stay at St. Mungo's, his normally long hair had just become a rat's nest of tangles and knots from his constant cursed thrashing. He was actually rather glad of the new length, the previously potion fume-damaged hair was gone leaving it no longer slick and greased looking, but soft and feathery. The other hand held a half empty glass of Fire-whiskey, his fifth that evening. He looked out the window of his new second floor chambers and stared for a moment at the reflection of the moon in the Lake, before sighing and downing the rest of his glass in one gulp.
His feet seemed to act of their own accord as they took him from his chambers through the strangely empty halls of the school. They dragged him up countless flights of stairs, until he stood before those doors. Before those doors he never wanted to look at again in his life. The previously blown apart boards had been replaced and he wanted to run more than anything as he pushed the doors open and walked onto the astronomy tower. He staggered momentarily as the cool mid September night air hit him, bringing with it a loud sniffle.
"Professor, I… I was just…" the young blonde witch stood up from where she was sitting against the short boundary wall. She was quickly wiping her face with the overlong sleeves of her multicoloured jumper.
"Ms. Lovegood, what are you doing up here this time of night?" he let the door fall closed to the rest of the castle.
"I... come up here when I can't sleep. Wrackspurts don't fly at these altitudes when outdoors." She was probably the only student who dared to look him in the eyes.
He felt the corners of his mouth tug at a smile, "No, I suppose they don't." Normally he would be deducting points from Ravenclaw and sending her off to bed but maybe it was the Firewhiskey that walked him to the wall a few feet away from her to stare down at the grass below. Did those tiny green blades remember the great man who had tumbled upon them just over a year ago? Did they realize the man staring down at them now had sent an old man tumbling down unto them?
"Professor Snape?" The tall man stood and looked down into the young witch's overlarge blue eyes. She had stopped carrying her wand behind her ear this year, leaving many more strands of the unruly blond hair to fly into her face. "What are you doing up here so late?"
Had he been standing this close to her the whole time? He could see the red lines in her eyes from the crying she had tried to hide, wasn't she afraid of him? "Couldn't sleep either…"
"Daddy always told me this was a good place to come when you couldn't sleep, something about the air up here. You can always rely on it after a bad day… Today was his Birthday" she added the last with a creak in her misty voice.
"I'm so sorry," he had forgotten the girl's father was in Azkaban when the Dementors attacked their inmates before they were rousted from the prison. Before he even realized what he was doing his hand reached out for her shoulder. It was a proverbial opening of the floodgates as the sobs let loose from her throat. She dove into his embrace, leaving him to stagger, unsure of her touch. Her arms grasped around his waist as she sobbed and wailed into his stomach and his hands gently rubbed at her back. As she hiccupped in her grief his actions grew more sure as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and gave a gentle squeeze. He was hunched over her small frame, enveloping her in his uncommon embrace. With every breathe a faint scent of mint traveled to his nostrils and encouraged him to hold on even tighter.
After the shrill cries had subsided and her back stopped shuddering with every breath, Luna pulled out of his embrace. "I'm sorry Professor, I just…"
"No need for apologies Miss Lovegood. Grief is not something that should be pushed aside. Now I believe you have class in the morning, you should try to get some sleep." She looked up at him with a thankful smile before heading towards the door.
"Thank you sir," came the small words before the thick wooden doors shut of their own accord. Suddenly Severus felt as if he should go to bed as well.