A/N HUGE thanks to Relish Redshoes, thepurplewombat, and Snapelove for betaing this chapter. Thanks to Vani12 for adding this to a community!

As you'll notice, this fic will likely be smut heavy. Contrary to what it seems, I do having a reasoning behind it. I would greatly appreciate feedback though!

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Severus was seated, yet again, so that he looked down over the Slytherin table. One steely glare sent most of them into silence. It was a small satisfaction for the hell that his job provided. He was proud to have the most control over his house. The Gryffindors in particular were too rowdy, he felt that Minerva was too soft on them. The challenge, however, was the first years. He was about to receive a new batch of children that would test his patience. Some would see how far they could push him while others would be far too reserved.

He didn't know what to expect from Narcissa's son. He'd practically raised the boy, being his Godfather. When Lucius had died, Severus felt more responsible for the boy, felt it was necessary to ease her burden.

Draco should consider himself lucky. The boy had yet to be subjected to the wrath Severus was known for in the castle. He certainly wouldn't become an exception now that they'd reside inside the same four walls.

Then there was Potter, no doubt a Gryffindor. Severus had heard little of him over the past nine and a half years. The largest point of information would be the death of Lily. A lump grew in his throat at the mere thought of her and he pushed it away. Other than the murder of Potter's…parents there were only small blurbs of information given over the years.

Dumbledore had informed him that Potter was a near identical picture of his father when it came to looks. That alone would be hard enough for him to endure, a second James. The only consolation that remained was how the child would act. Despite his disbelief in any higher figure, Severus prayed that Harry would take after his mother in personality and intelligence.

The immensely large, wooden doors, swung slowly open, revealing Minerva standing in front of a mass of students. One, small, glance told him this group was smaller than the previous years. The number of students attending the school seemed to grow smaller every year. It was no doubt in correlation with Lord Voldemort's rise in power. As he grew stronger, couples seemed to copulate less and less, or at least, they were more careful.

Severus scanned the crowd for any face that would be familiar. It didn't take long to spot the tow-headed boy amongst the mass of mostly brunette hair. Severus hid a smirk at the arrogant, yet excited look on Draco's face. He searched the crowd with narrowed eyes as they made their way inside the Great Hall. Harry would be harder to spot, having no unusual or distinguishing features. There was the familiar, ginger hair that he had no doubt belonged to yet another Weasley. It was then that Severus' eyes fell on that of the boy beside him. Dumbledore hadn't been wrong, he was the reincarnation of the bastard, James Potter.

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He sat with only slight attention as the names were called. There was no reason for him to memorize the students of other houses, at least not yet. His mind only jotted down those that were called into Slytherin. Towards the beginning there was the oh so lovingly familiar name of "Crabbe". Severus was positive he was the child of that miscreant, Vincent Sr. This year was proving to provide more problems than just that of Harry, the only one Severus had worried about just months ago.

The names continued to be unremarkable. They were from a family that he didn't know, or they were simply no one to worry about, providing him no sense of danger. It was only when they reached G, Goyle, that Severus' anxiety heightened again, momentarily. The tally was up to two known Death Eater children, three if you counted Draco. It was foolish of him to believe they would behave nothing like their fathers.

There was Longbottom, a name that produced the bitter taste of bile in the back of Severus' throat and a feeling of shame elsewhere. When he had provided the prophecy so many years ago, he had not only betrayed the Potters, but the Longbottoms as well. He had provided the reason that Neville lost his parents too. It was just one of many mistakes he had to live with.

When the name "Malfoy, Draco" was called, he found himself sitting up a little straighter, watching the boy with curiosity. It came as no surprise that the second the ratty, old hat grazed the platinum blond hairs of the boy's head it immediately called "Slytherin!"

Draco's head turned momentarily to find Severus at the high table. He shot the newest snake the briefest of nods and what could hardly be considered a smile before allowing his hardened exterior to return.

The letter "m" was only a short distance away from "p" and he found himself counting the names, watching the crowd dwindle, until "Potter" was spoken in Minerva's shaking brogue. Harry was small, much more than that of his peers. He didn't appear to be malnourished necessarily, not like Severus had been when he arrived, but it was clear the boy had survived on the bare minimum.

The sorting hat was dropped onto his crown and to Severus' surprise, there it remained. He had expected an instant shout of "Gryffindor!" Much like Draco's had gone. Instead, the hall was filled with baited breath as they waited for the sorting of the Boy who Lived.

Harry's tousled black hair was all Severus could see. As the seconds ticked by, he found himself wishing he could see the boy's face, read his expression. There was even the temptation of legilimency. It wasn't one he would act upon, but it was there all the same.

Severus' jaw slackened, unnoticeably, in horror as the hat cried out "Slytherin!"

It took a moment for Harry to move, seeming to be as stunned as the rest of the hall which sat in silence. Everyone who knew of the Potters knew he was bound for Gryffindor. Even the Slytherin table, much to Severus' displeasure, didn't clap for their new addition. They seemed confused and less than pleased. A new worry filled Severus then.

Harry had -inadvertently- defeated the Dark Lord. The very person many of Slytherin house openly fought for and supported. Severus didn't think his students would be all that accepting of someone who could very well be considered a traitor now living among them

Harry finally stumbled from the seat. After one quick glance at the Weasley boy, he wandered towards the Slytherin table and plunked down in an empty seat beside Draco with a morose expression on his face.

Minerva cleared her throat after what felt like an eternity and called the next student. Severus forced himself to look away from the two boys he had received and back to the front. The previous attention he'd had for the new Slytherins was dimmed, he hardly registered them at all. Minerva's voice seemed faded, distant, and he didn't take in her words.

Even as Dumbledore stood to speak, he found his mind on thoughts of how much easier, yet how much harder it would be to have both his tasks residing in the same place, the same room. He certainly had his work cut out for him.

Food appeared in front of them suddenly, catching him off guard. Had he been paying any attention he might have realized Dumbledore had neared the end of his speech before the food signaled it.

A frown etched deeper into Severus' face at the massive plate of corn in front of him. He plucked one from the pile, placing it on his own plate with an icy glare directed towards the headmaster. It was a rather unfunny joke - to Severus at least – that Dumbledore insisted on pulling every year.

He could see just past the edge of Quirrell's ridiculous, mauve turban, as the defense professor faced away from him. There was an unexpected pull of memories from him suddenly. He tamped down his barriers, locking them tighter than typically necessary as the image of Dumbledore and him surfaced. It was legilimency, no question about it. His eyes fell fully on the turban then, recalling Dumbledore's words of days before. It would be wise to keep an eye on him.

Severus' head swiveled once more, removing himself from what he sincerely hoped wasn't the Dark Lord's gaze. He searched the sea of green and silver, eyes falling on Harry again. The boy was having an intense conversation with Zoe Accrington. She was a well-mannered girl, one he wasn't concerned about. Harry certainly could have chosen a worse person to have a conversation with other than the caramel skinned and bushy haired girl.

Severus' hand rested below his chin as he watched the exchange with interest. It was only when both heads turned to look at him that he realized what exactly the two of them had been discussing.

Harry's hand shot up, rubbing at the faded scar that was etched into his forehead. Severus' eyes found the back of Quirrell's turban for a final time in hidden horror before facing the plate in front of him for the rest of what could hardly be considered a meal.

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It was no surprise that she was waiting for him by the time he had finally reached his chambers. It had been their routine for some time. Once Draco was safely in bed – before coming here – she found her way to wherever he was. There was a difference this time, something that didn't surprise him given the night he had had. Rather than an insatiable sexual tension between them, it was one of worry.

Severus enveloped her in his arms, enjoying the feel of blue, crushed velvet on his bare hands. Her own were wrapped behind his neck, underneath the tendrils of hair. Her face rested slightly on his chest, her heels increasing her height. When she spoke, the fabric of his robes absorbed the sound, leaving a muted and hardly heard voice behind. "He's in Slytherin, isn't he?"

He nodded against her. "The hat hardly sorted him."

"And? How did it go?" She pulled back slightly so that she could meet his eyes. There was a worry deep inside them that made his heart give ever so slightly though his tone was rough.

"Fine. He took well to the others. There's no need for you to fret." At his words, she moved to look down. He placed his fingers gently below her chin, tilting her head upwards. "Lucius would be proud of the boy you raised."

She gave him a nostalgic smile, eyes twinkling finally. "Draco is a good boy. Its a shame Lucius didn't get to see him grow up."

Severus reached up, letting his fingers tangle in the blonde tresses. "Shall I expect to see you tomorrow? I know you'll wonder how his first day went." A faint scent clung to her skin. It was almost equivalent to that of cinnamon, an evocative spice that awoke something in him he couldn't control.

She walked her fingers up his chest, stopping below the first button of his robes. "I wasn't particularly planning on leaving."

It wasn't a surprise, typical of their affair. Lucius' murder had destroyed her for some time. She had removed herself from the wizarding community for several years, only recently reappearing. In that short time, Severus was beginning to find her in his bed, the shower, even the kitchen, more and more.

It only took a quick tilt of the head in the direction of the couch before a wicked grin spread across her face in agreement. He bent down, wrapping an arm around the back of her legs and scooping her up. It elicited a laugh of surprise before she was dropped to the cushions.

Before he could form a word, she had yanked him down, hungrily pressing her lips to his. His mouth made his way from hers, leading across her cheek and down her neck. He reached the depression just above her clavicle and bit gently at the soft skin before rubbing his tongue over the wound he had created.

Her hands wandered his still clothed body, anxious to rid what was between them. Her movements were frantic, needing the teasing to end and the release to begin.

He pulled back grinning mischievously as his hands wandered lower. He flipped the skirt of Narcissa's robes upward and she straightened. Crossing her arms in front of her, she fondled the edges and lifted the clothes slowly above her head.

Her legs were clad in garters, holding up stockings. Kneeling, he gripped the lacy fabric with his teeth. Severus pulled them gradually down her legs, depositing them with the growing puddle of clothing beside them. The thin, silk pair of panties came next before he stood again. His hands went behind her back, brushing against the soft skin. He worked with the clasp of her bra for only a second, his hand having grown practiced in their time together.

She was sprawled before him, skin flushed with desire. His lips brushed against the front arch of her pelvis, lingering lower and lower. Her legs bucked slightly beneath him as his tongue dove inside of her and wound in expert circles.

Narcissa squeezed her thighs at the movement. "I don't think this is very fair."

Another rare smile crossed his lips, one that only appeared in situations like this. "Really? It seems to me that you need to be punished."

She tugged on the high collar of his robes, forcing him upwards again. "I'm not the only one." She pulled forcefully at his buttons, not bothering to tease him. The hardened bulge in his pants proved it wasn't necessary.

The movement of her fingers was furious, and he was almost afraid the buttons would tear off entirely. When his chest was exposed, she ran her cold fingers across the bare skin, causing him to shiver. From his chest, her hands slid upwards, pushing down the sleeves and stripping him entirely.

Severus leaned his hands on the back cushions of the couch so that he hung over her. He too had waited long for this moment and slipped quickly inside of her. He rocked his hips faster and faster until he felt himself nearly ready to give way.

Narcissa cried out beneath him, fingernails digging into his skin. When she relaxed, the wave of pleasure decreasing and the moans coming to an end, he finally allowed himself to finish before resting momentarily on top of her.

Their heavy breathing combined, the only sounds filling the room. He fell beside her then, fingers entwining with hers. She cuddled up next to him, bare breasts pressed into his skin. On any other day it would have been enough to get him started again, but this time exhaustion and the stress of the day took over and he accepted the sappy love instead.

There were far too many things that should have been on his mind. He should have been concerned about the events of the day, but he allowed himself to give in to this moment. He could worry more tomorrow.

With the beautiful, naked woman beside him it was impossible to think about anything else. He turned to face her and found light blue eyes staring into his. It occurred to him then that he didn't want her to leave. Not tomorrow, not ever.