Disclaimer: You know how it goes: I am not JKR, nothing belongs to me, I'm getting no money and so on and so fort.
A/N: I categorised this as romance, so you have been warned.
WITH NO ILL INTENTIONS
Professor Vector materialised out of thin air in front of the main gates. She couldn't bear to stay any longer at the funeral. The castle would be blessedly quiet. Students had left home today after the sermon and only the staff remained.
The day had been painful. More ways than one.
So far, she had managed to keep her mind on an appropriate academic track, fervently working on her studies the past few days, buried in her books and manuscripts. She couldn't bear the pitying - and sometimes suspicious - looks from her colleagues. Did they all know? Did the students know too?
At least the Ministry hadn't come for her. Yet. They probably would, eventually, when the whispers would reach their ears. Would they believe her? That he never told and she never asked.
When she walked through the gates the magic almost made her fall on her knees. Something powerful and inhuman, but with evident consciousness entered her mind. She felt like all her thoughts were open for examination. Then the presence withdrew and she could step into the grounds of the school.
The seal of Spirit of the school was destroyed. She could sense the icy fury of the castle itself from the intrusion at the night Albus was… when Albus died. The wards would not allow anyone with ill intentions to enter until the new Seal was established and Hogwarts was not yet ready to bind Minerva McGonagall.
In time it would, but until then they would have to wait, let Hogwarts mourn.
Combining the static power of the castle and the raw human magic from the Master or the Mistress had been Caradoc Dearborn's most ingenious invention. The wards of Hogwarts were the reason she had applied for the post of the Arithmancy Professor five years ago: to be able to study that magic and the Arithmancy behind the wards. No one knew how the protective shield was achieved. The man had never written his theories down and he had disappeared in the midst of the first War.
Many of her colleagues had wondered why she left a promising career at the service of Master Von Hexenburg to take the position as a mere teacher. But that magic had intrigued her since her own school days, the enigma waiting to be unsolved. She had always had a weakness for puzzles.
And now, Gwendolyn Vector had cracked that particular secret.
Hogwarts protected its' own. The wards were tied by four seals, one for each element. And the fifth element, The Spirit, controlled the other seals, giving the Master or Mistress a power to control the wards. Now when the Master was gone, Hogwarts itself had taken over.
The ingeniousness of Warlock Dearborn had been that magic: when the Master was killed, the protection didn't disappear. Instead it would strengthen hundredfold, eventually making the place as unreachable as the dark side of the moon for those who sought entrance with ill intentions.
The warding had tightened when Albus Dumbledore had been sent to the unknown this afternoon. In fact, it had caused a bit of a problem when the Minister had forgotten his hat and tried to gain re-entrance after he had already stepped beyond the gates.
Walking by the borders of Hogwarts she studied the wards. They were strong. The school protected itself well. In normal cases, working with something so different, something that had no restrictions of human emotions, would have been fascinating. Now, however, the icy wrath for the incursion washed over her, chilling her to the bone and leaving her weak.
Hogwarts itself was furious, ready to attack anyone and anything it considered a threat.
She walked past Hagrid's hut with dark windows and moved to the shade of the trees where the Forbidden Forest started. She could feel the unseen eyes in the shadows and wrapped her shawl around her shoulders more tightly.
When she was certain the wards were intact she turned to walk back towards the school. The castle was eerily quiet now when the students were gone for the summer and remaining members of the staff were still at the Hog's Head. She just couldn't bear the funeral any longer, all those people dressed in mourning and telling tales of great Albus Dumbledore.
But she just didn't want to go inside yet, so she stood there a long time, in the shadows of a wide oak, resting her hand on the trunk. She stroked the rough bark under her palm, almost sensing the awareness of the tree. How long had it stood there? The events of the past days probably meant nothing to something that lived for hundreds of years.
For a second she was illogically angry at the senseless tree.
How could he?
She allowed that thought for herself, finally. They all had trusted him and he had betrayed them all. He had betrayed her.
The worst thing was that the school felt so empty now when he was gone.
Like her thoughts had summoned him, a figure dressed in black appeared behind the corner of the castle and headed towards the Forbidden Forest. At first she thought she was imagining it. But no, she would have recognised him from the crowd of hundreds of people.
And he was coming towards her.
As silently as she could, she slipped on the other side of the tree and prayed he would not notice her, her heart beating furiously. Unfortunately, very little passed the notice of Severus Snape. She could hear the soft swishing of his robes. Without looking, she knew he had stopped next to her.
Like compelled she turned around to face him. He was wearing a dark cloak over his familiar black robes. His right hand held his wand. With his free hand he pulled the hood of his cloak down.
Her breath caught in her throat and her mouth went dry. Involuntarily, her eyes searched his face, every familiar line, the curve of his jaw, that prominent nose, until she reached his eyes.
As cold and calculating as ever with the evident intelligence. She hated when he looked at her like that: like she was an interesting specimen of some of his potions.
But then again, it was more preferable than if he looked at her like she was some inferior ingredient.
"Gwendolyn." He said, his lips curling only very slightly. He never called her with familiar 'Gwen', like everyone else did.
"I wasn't expecting to see you. A pleasure, nevertheless." He inclined his jaw in a mocking fashion.
"I wouldn't advice you to do that. I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I must."
Her hand froze midair on its way to her wand. His tone left no illusions that he didn't mean exactly what he said. Or that he doubted for a moment she would pose any threat whatsoever to him.
It should be illegal to possess a voice like that. Like poisoned honey, or smoothest satin, or… She cut her thought right there. Her eyes had not left her former lover during the whole time.
That bastard. The murdering son of a hag. Despicable, foul, cruel, deceiving prick. Yet, a bastard with the greatest mind she had ever met. A deadly combination for the peace of mind of Gwendolyn Sofia Vector.
"What do you want, Severus?"
"Actually, I have already retrieved what I came here for, but are you offering something more, my dear?" That infuriating voice made the chills run down her spine.
She flushed with anger. The worst part was, that if he wanted, she would probably let him have her, against the uncaring tree behind her back if necessary.
She would never admit that to him. He had always come and gone as he pleased. And less frequently as the war had started. Not so often, but then when he came to her his passion had been almost frightening.
He had always been gone when she woke up in the morning, exhausted and aching, feeling satisfied yet strangely empty and lonely.
And every time she would swear: never again.
She was not so dense that she wouldn't know that something was going on. There was his Mark, for one thing. But as said, she never asked and he never offered explanations. For her, it had been enough that Dumbledore obviously trusted him. And let's face it: she wanted to trust him.
Oh Merlin how wrong she had been!
And now he was standing right in front of her, in the shadows of the oak. Close enough that the intoxicating scent of his potions ingredients – spices, herbs, musk and the decay of more sinister components – filled her nostrils.
"There is nothing I can offer you any longer." She managed to whisper hoarsely.
"It hasn't always been so."
She squashed her hope. He had chosen his side with murder, chosen his side with those who executed Muggleborns just because what they were. Mudbloods like her.
"Well, past is past and you belong to my past, Snape. Never again I will let you touch me. How could you! We all trusted you, I trusted you and you betrayed us."
Sweet Circe how melodramatic she sounded! She managed to keep her tears at bay. She would not cry in front of him, ever!
Not a muscle had flickered on his face during her frustrated and angry tirade, but his eyes tightened.
"I never lied to you and claimed to be a nice man, Gwen."
"No remorse?"
"What is done is done." His voice was harsh. "I have made my choice."
"Choosing one Master over the other. Crawling at the feet of that monster. Must make you very proud of yourself."
"You have no idea what you are talking about." His voice had gone dreadfully quiet.
"It seems pretty obvious to me. But please, do feel free to enlighten me, my dear. What does he offer you?" She knew saying that was definitely unwise, but she was beyond caring.
His hand gripped on her shoulder, the fingers sinking into her flesh.
"You would never understand and I will not waste my time trying to explain it to you." Cold fury made his voice shake, his eyes boring to hers, the feverish look in them frightening her. "I did what I had to do and I will not apologise for that!"
She braced herself against the curse wondering whether this was how she was going to die, murdered by the man she had once thought she loved.
The curse never came. When he kissed her, at first she tried to fight him. The kiss was rough and demanding and she felt her knees grow weak. Clutching his robes she clung to him for her dear life, every sensible though disappearing her mind when his strength and his magic enclosed her.
Just this one last time.
And then he let her go and stepped backwards, making her loose her balance and slump against the tree. When his spell hit her she fell to the ground to a graceless heap, the world disappearing around her, his wand being the last thing she saw.
The night had fallen when she came to her senses. She was laying on her back on the soft grass staring at the branches of the tree above her. Her head spinning she sat up and looked around. Where was she?
Severus!
He was nowhere to be seen. Her heart pounding she hastily scrambled on her feet.
She didn't stop until she reached her rooms, hurrying through the corridors and not paying any attention to the worried questions from the portraits. Her chest heaving she bolted the door shut, but even that didn't make her feel safe.
Kicking her shoes off and untying her dressrobes she left a trail of clothing leading to her bathroom. A long hot soak in the bath usually made her feel better, but now when she stepped out of the tub she was still chilled and shivering.
Taking one look at her papers she passed her desk and went to the bedroom. Her peace of mind was shattered and she could not concentrate tonight.
Her dreams were restless and inconsistent. In the early hours of morning she woke up from a dream where it seemed the school itself had spoken to her.
Sitting bolt upright in her bed she gasped.
How had he gotten into the castle? The wards were intact, un-tampered when she had examined them after returning from the wake.
Pulling her dressing gown on she padded to the small sitting room. She needed reference whether it would be possible.
To be possible that he bore no ill intentions.
How could that be?