Severus Snape entered his private study with a tired sigh. Rounds had been particularly challenging that night; in addition to the usual handful of miscreants breaking curfew, he'd had to negotiate a truce between two warring portraits on the fourth floor whose shouts could practically be heard in the dungeons. Granted, his 'negotiation' strategy had been threatening both with a paint-removing charm, but it was effective nonetheless.
A light from under the door leading to his library made him swear under his breath. Once more, his overeager Apprentice had stayed beyond her scheduled hours to pester him with what would undoubtedly be a non-urgent question.
Well not tonight.
Tonight, he would send her on her way without even giving her the opportunity to protest. Hell, he'd eject her forcibly, if need be.
Because tonight, he was bloody well going to bed!
He swept into the library with far less flair than usual, though completely ready to give his nattering Apprentice what-for. He stalked towards the sitting area, his mouth opened, he inhaled… and froze.
She was asleep.
She'd clearly been waiting for him, and the heavy book that hung from her limp fingers told him she'd fallen asleep while reading.
A year ago, he would have roared at her to wake up and get the bloody hell out of his quarters. Six months ago, he would have grumbled, shaken her roughly, and sent her on her way. Even one month ago, it wouldn't have even crossed his mind to leave her undisturbed. Now, however…
They'd come to a sort of… understanding, he supposed. She was learning to curb her enthusiasm somewhat, and he was finding her slightly less annoying. And then there was his new familiar, who had not only attached herself to him, but was also more than acceptably fond of his apprentice. Granger had been unexpectedly helpful in training and caring for Athena, and a small part of him was grateful for that. Not that he'd tell her.
As he looked at her prone form, trying to decide what to do, she shivered. Frowning, he noted that it was colder than usual in the room. Ah… the fire had gone out. A week ago, he would have left her there, but a week ago she hadn't offhandedly admitted to having extreme difficulty sleeping since the War. He rolled his eyes, and in a move that surprised even him, pulled his outer robes off to drape over her.
Just as he was pulling them up to her shoulders, something on her chest… moved.
Only years of practice keeping his outward reactions contained kept him from jumping and screaming like a girl.
But what…?
Then he heard a sleepy chittering.
Athena.
In the absence of a fire, that annoying creature had sought out a warm place, and apparently inside Granger's robes was… no, wait. That wasn't the collar of her robes he was seeing whiskers under. That was the collar of her jumper.
His thrice damned familiar was curled up down the front of his thrice damned Apprentice's shirt.
Muttering about opportunistic creatures and lazy workers, he re-lit the fire then stomped off to get himself ready for bed.
What was the world coming to when a Potions Master found himself jealous of a degenerate weasel?
