Author's Note: If you leave feedback or constructive criticism, I try very hard to thank you personally. However, there are several guest comments that have come through and I think they deserve to be thanked as well, so... THANK YOU! I know people like to keep their anonymity, but they deserve to know they are appreciated as well. Keep letting me know how ya'll feel about this :-)
BTW, there was an anonymous comment that caught my attention which mentioned I have some spelling/grammar errors. If you spot it, don't be afraid to send me a PM or comment with the exact place so I can fix it. I want this story to be enjoyable and anyway I can improve it, the better. Thanks!
I wake with a headache. Blinking a few times, I roll over to see it is five in the morning. Damn my early rising habits. With a groan, I slide out of bed to get ready for the day ahead. Not really wanting to face the stares of the school today, I decide to limit my movements to my private chambers and lab.
The guilt of last night nags at me as I start to make an omelette. I know that it is illogical to feel that way, but I decide making one for my new wife might help ease my guilt. I don't even know if she likes omelettes, but it is worth a try. Besides, there are enough eggs for two.
Even though I know it is way too early for her to be up, I leave the meal on the counter under a stasis charm. I eat my portion of breakfast quickly and go into my private lab to catch up on some brewing Poppy has requested for the infirmary.
The plate and omelette are untouched when I go back for lunch around noon.
It doesn't really bother me that she turned down a free meal, but it does irritate me to think about the girl sleeping in so late. I push my anger aside and try to reason that she is just overly tired or doesn't feel the need to get up a decent hour when she doesn't have class.
I go ahead and make a small lunch of sandwiches and fruit. Knowing she will be starving when she does finally get up, I leave the bread and remaining sliced fruit on the counter so she knows where to find it and return to my office.
The clock finally strikes four in the afternoon when I get up to stretch. I made a lot of progress on the essays I assigned the fourth years, but the third year's seem to have forgotten how to even right write a proper sentence. My back is a little sore from sitting too long, so I take a short stroll to the kitchen for some tea.
The bread is unmoved and gnats are swarming the fruit.
I look around the kitchen and see the only dishes in the rack are the ones I have used for breakfast and lunch. My fury at her laziness begins to creep up, but I remind myself that she is supposed to be my wife, not my child. If she chooses to sleep all day and not do her schoolwork, that is her choice. Besides, I have better things to do than worry about her weekend routine.
After I clean the mess up and put the dishes away, I decide that it is too late for tea. I had originally thought planned to cook dinner, but since the girl has refused every attempt thus far, I decide to face the music and face the Great Hall. Gossip is something I have lived with all my life, but the awkwardness is bound to put me in a foul mood. However, my quarters are feeling cramped and restrictive, so I know I have to go somewhere or risk losing my temper when I do finally see the girl.
Entering the hall, I keep my eyes trained to my spot between Filius and Minerva. The chatter around the room lowers and I can tell people are watching me closely as I cross the room. One flick of my eyes towards the students and the whispers return to full volume conversations. A triumphant smirk crosses my face knowing that none of them are willing test my patience right now.
Taking my place at the staff table, I begin filling my plate with some roast and potatoes. Glancing up every so often, I can feel other faculty members are stealing glances at me, so I make it a point to hold my head up high challenging anyone to speak. After a minute, I turn towards Filius on my right, but he quickly averts his eyes.
"Professor Flitwick, it is rude to stare. If you have something to discuss, then by all means, please say it instead of gawking at me." I try not to be so cruel, but my irritation is a little too evident. The rest of the table is now fully watching with bated breath.
"I was just wondering how your new wife is?" Filius asks casually. He gives a small smile that he probably means to be reassuring, but only it fuels my anger. I know the real question that is on everyone's mind, so I raise my voice slightly, making sure everyone can hear my response.
"Miss Weasley is very well, thank you. But I suspect you already knew that." His smile falters and I can feel the rest of the table tense up. With a nasty sneer, I stab my next question at the heart of the matter. "I suppose you and everyone else is more interested in my after wedding activities, correct?"
Forks clatter on the plates loudly. Students are far enough away to not have heard my comment, but even they can tell there is a change in the atmosphere over here. Several of my co-workers mouths are gaping open and Filius' wide eyes look almost comical as he starts to stutter a reply.
"Professor Snape!" Minerva's voice carries down the table sternly before Filius can stutter any coherent sentence. I look over at her defiantly and she says, "Would you kindly escort me to my office?" Rolling my eyes, I throw my napkin on the table forcefully and follow at her heels.
She leads me swiftly down the corridors to her office. I know that I should be worried about the reprimand I am about to receive, but my anger numbs any feeling of remorse. We climb the stairs and enter her office in complete silence, just the sound of her heels clicking on the stone floor.
Upon entering, I stand at the door with my arms folded as she walks over to her small table of tumblers and decanters. She pours firewhiskey into two glasses and holds one out to me, but I refuse and remain rooted in my spot defensively.
"Do you play chess?" she asks out of the blue. She points to the chairs by the fire where there is a table and board set up for a game.
"I want to finish my dinner," I reply, ignoring her question. She is trying to pull a move like Albus, but it isn't going to work.
"No, you want to fight," she declares. "I am offering you a better way to take your aggression out before you dig yourself into a hole you can't get out of." I scowl dramatically and turn to leave. The door slams shut and locks. I turn back and see Minerva glaring at me with her wand drawn. "Don't you even think about drawing your wand on me, Severus. It would be a dangerous move."
Her eyes dare me to move for my wand, but I am smarter than that. She is trying to provoke a reaction out of me, but I am an iron fortress. I put my unreadable mask on my face and fold my arms.
It is times like this that remind me of when I was a boy at the school. Her intimidation tactics are subtle, but effective. Although I don't fear her, staring her down is a dangerous idea for many reason. In the end, I see that my only option is to play, so I throw myself in the chair with a loud huff.
Minerva comes and sits in the opposite chair, bringing both tumblers with her. Keeping my scowl, I turn the board to put the black pieces on my side. "Ladies first, Headmistress," I motion with a grimacing look.
The Headmistress begins with a strong offense. Other than the commands to the pieces, we play in silence as I let her sweep through to take my pieces unchallenged. The quicker she wins, the quicker I can leave.
It doesn't take long for her to see the game I am playing and begins leaving her pieces unguarded to tempt me. I take some of hers and she takes some of mine. I am left with only four pieces, but she has only lost six. She wins easily so I stand to leave, but her glare tells me I'm not off the hook yet.
We play again.
This time, I put up a little more of a fight, but still not enough to care. We play in silence again. She sips her whiskey every so often, but I have left mine untouched. I have the feeling she is trying to poison me or slip me a potion to get me to talk. I intentionally lose again and she resets the board.
Frustrated, I decide to demolish her so I can take my leave. I move my pieces almost as soon as she finishes her commands to her own pieces. I check her in a hurry only to find she is the victor yet again. She resets the board for another match as I build my strategy. I can't let her win again or she will never let me leave.
This is a much slower game. I concentrate hard on every move. I silently cheer with each piece I capture and grimace when she smashes one of my pieces. Finally, we are both down to our last few pieces, I can feel my victory is imminent. My eyes are lowered and my face is blank to keep her from getting any sort of hint. I can check her in two moves and she is clueless. Commanding my bishop to the final place, I call check triumphantly knowing that she knows any move will put her into my grasp.
"Knight from F5 to E2 and I believe that is not only check, but check mate," she says smiling from behind her glass. I look down and realize what a sneaky little bitch she is. My humiliation is evident as I realize what a huge mistake I made and how she deftly exploited it. She pulls out her wand and waves it, causing the board and pieces to disappear. Confused, I look at her in the hope that she will release me from my captivity.
"It is funny how much life is like chess," she says inspecting her glass as she swishes her drink around the bottom. "Win or lose, the game is a lot more enjoyable when both parties are willing to play. Wouldn't you agree, Severus?"
"I don't know what you are trying to get at, but I'm not interested. I'm still hungry." I know I sound childish, but I don't feel like receiving a metaphorical conundrum at the moment. She downs the rest of her drink and sets the glass on the table.
"I'm not getting at anything. Just thinking out loud," she quips taking my untouched glass and sipping from it. She leans back in the chair and stares into the fire with pensive expression on her face. I stand to leave, but she doesn't stop me.
I expect to hear some comment as I leave, but none comes. I exit quickly and make my way back to the dungeons before realizing that it is my night to patrol the halls. A tempus charm tells me I should have started an hour ago, so I begin walking through the hallways silently, lost in my own thoughts. Thankfully, not even the ghosts seem to be out tonight.
As I climb stairs and check inside classrooms, my evening replays in my mind. Filius had no right to ask me about her. Does the whole world believe that I am going to murder her the way I did Albus? No, everyone is more concerned with prying into my sex life- if that is what one encounter can be deemed as.
I do wonder why Minerva didn't bring it up. In all the years I have known Minerva, never once have I discussed any subject so intimate, so why would she start now? Just because I asked her a few days ago to stop meddling, doesn't mean she is finished. She did stop me from commenting on it at dinner but then force me to play chess with her over and over. Why not just reprimanding me and get it over with? Even Albus wasn't so strange.
Win or lose, the game is much more enjoyable when both parties are willing to play. She isn't fooling me with these words. It is some sneaky comment about my marriage; some sort of unwanted and unwelcome advice. It is ridiculous as well.
Starving and irritated, I quicken my pace to finish my patrol and head back to my dungeons. I enter to a dark living room, but the kitchen light is on. Hesitantly, I peek in the kitchen with the expectation of my wife waiting for me.
There, on my dining table, is a plate with hot roast beef and potatoes waiting for me. Minerva must have sent a house elf to deliver it while I was out, so my frustration with her is temporarily quelled by my gratitude. I take my place and begin to ease my hunger with the delicious meat.
I look up after the second bite and see the Weasley girl has appeared in the kitchen, but is startled by my presence at the table. She is wearing a fluffy green bathrobe and her damp hair is in a braid over her shoulder again. I can see she her eyes are tired and bloodshot as I realize that she hasn't been sleeping all day, but crying.
It is a pathetic sight to behold.
"Sit, Miss Weasley," I say trying to keep my voice in an emotionless tone. "Seeing that you have not eaten all day, I am sure you are famished." I'm sure she wants to run out of the room, but it looks like her hunger overrules her judgement as she slowly walks to the seat in front of me.
I pick my wand up off the table and duplicate the plate. I summon the untouched bread from earlier and take a few slices out after I put some of my roast and potatoes on her plate. Her eyes are boring holes in me, as I slide the plate to her.
We lock eyes for a split second, but she looks away trying to hide her face in the shadows. Rolling my eyes, I continue with my food, but she continues to sit unmoving. Why does this girl insist on being difficult?
"Miss Weasley, you will eat." I command authoritatively. "I do not appreciate handing my dinner over to an ungrateful mouth." Her head snaps up immediately.
To this day, the Dark Lord's cold, cruel stare haunts me. But even that memory pales in comparison to the glare she gives me. Her amber eyes should be warm and inviting, but it looks like she is trying to kill me with a look of death.
Perturbed at her insolence I tell her, "I will not repeat myself, Miss Weasley."
"Snape." The way she says my name is more like a curse than an actual name.
"I think you mean 'Professor Snape'. Or 'Sir' would work just as well," I reply coolly.
"You married me. I am no longer Miss Weasley, but Madame Snape," she says just as firmly while narrowing her eyes. The infamous Weasley temper is undeniably about to rear its ugly head.
"No, you silly girl," I correct her. "Just because we are married, does not make you any more of a Snape than it makes me a Weasley. I am still your professor and you are still a student, so our titles remain unchanged, Miss Weasley."
"Of course, you are right," she says sarcastically with a darkened look on her face. "To think that the man who raped me last night would ever think of me as an equal is completely preposterous."
"Quiet," I snap back and point my finger at her. "You know as well as I do that last night was not optional for either of us. It had to be done and is by no means to be compared to such a despicable act. I was a Death Eater after all, so don't you think I would know the difference?"
She blanches, but keeps a fiery look in her eyes. My comment should have caused some nasty retort to fly out of her mouth, but nothing comes. She just continues to glare at me in silence.
Before I can stop myself, I continue on. "But that isn't what this is about is is it? I assume your anger stems more from the fact that I was forced to take your precious virginity, am I correct?"
The horror on her face is evident as she realizes I found out her secret. As quick as it appeared, the expression is replaced with one of rage. Even in all her fury her voice remains low and even as she whispers, "You are a bastard." The words surge a new wave of fury through me as I stand quickly to tower over her.
"I am a lot of things Miss Weasley, but I can assure you I know who my father was." Regaining a little bit of my composure I sit back down and continue my rant. "Your reasons for not disclosing that fact is your business alone, so you cannot blame me when you did not have enough of that Gryffindor courage to speak up. Besides, you had weeks to take care of that problem before we married, so your anger with me is unwarranted, unwelcome, and quite frankly completely immature."
She slams her fist on the table as she stands up and starts to leave the room. I command her to stop and sit back down, but she simply glances over her shoulder and says, "Or what? You'll force me?" With as much emphasis as she put on that one word, I could tell she really meant to say "rape".
Staring at the door behind her, I know that my comments might have been a little harsh, but that's no excuse for her to blame me. We are both victims here.
If that is true, then why do I feel like I have done something wrong?