I felt compelled to write this third part. Warning: the usual. Weird/unusual/unexpected pairing. Don't like, don't read.
It was evening and Angelina was waiting to go to the dungeons. It was her second, and hopefully last, detention.
She trudged down the stairs to the cold recesses of the castle. She shivered as the chill air hit her skin. How her father had lived down here for seven years was beyond her imagination. If she had been a Slytherin, she didn't know if she would have been able to walk around, let alone go to class.
Upon reaching the classroom, she faltered. She had a faint tugging feeling as though a wisp of memory was reminding herself... But of what? That question would remain unanswered.
Shrugging off her uneasiness, Angelina pushed the Potions classroom door open and entered the spacious cavern.
This time, Snape had set up a slew of ingredients on one work table. A cauldron sat nearby, a fire already lit underneath it.
"Miss Johnnson," Severus greeted coldly.
"Professor Snape," Angelina returned.
"Tonight, you will brew the Boil Cure potion. I will watch and assist when necessary," Snape spoke loftily, as though he would have to do all the work.
Nodding mutely, Angelina walked up to the work table and started following the directions on the blackboard Snape had pre-written just for her.
As she worked, Angelina knew Snape's eyes were on her the whole time. He watched as she carefully cut, measured and ground the potion ingredients on the work table.
An hour later, the correct potion was simmering.
Snape stalked over, surveying her work. Taking an empty vial from his voluminous robes, he collected a sample of her potion for testing.
"Very good, Miss Johnson," Snape said in his emotionless voice. "That is all for tonight."
"Goodnight, Professor Snape, sir," Angelina responded, hearing the dismissal in his voice.
Snape appraised the potion, knowing it was perfect. He had watched her for the past two hours. She was beautiful, with her braided hair and her delicate features. The look of concentration on her face had made him bite back a groan. Her long fingers and thin waist distracted him from several steps of the potion-making process.
He had remained seated so he wouldn't know how much of a horny teenager he had turned into in her presence. He had had several delicious fantasies with an older Angelina. He knew it had to stop, but he couldn't control his dreams. Even with a Dreamless Sleep Potion he woke up calling out her name.
Frowning, Snape knew his thoughts had to stop. He was a double spy and he needed all his concentration to stay alert. Besides, she was just a child!
He knew this added to his list of sins. But as he never expected to see Heaven anyway, he did what he had always done. He wanked off in his office and shrugged off the unethical implications. Ethics had never bothered him before now.
Cleaning himself up, Snape thought deliciously of the next seven years. Maybe he would be able to get through another decade in one piece.
He snorted at that thought. Don't be an optimistic prig, he mentally reprimanded himself. That's not your job.
Sighing, Snape looked at his calendar, ticking off another day he had survived.
He now had his own angel. Maybe he would see a time of peace. Maybe.
For her.
