Don't Go To Strangers

Snow fell lightly that morning. It blew onto the windows and collected in the corners of the glass. Jasper was up earlier than usual, but he'd wanted to wake up before her, anyway. He sat by his bedroom window and watched the dark, gray sky gradually lighten to a smoky silver, as he sipped the remnants of his potion. It was the last of it and his body surged with life and vigor. When he finished, he set the flask on the windowsill and stood.

He dressed in something other than the somewhat shabby robes he normally did and put on his boots and cloak. Then he left the shop and took a walk. No one was out. It was too early. He walked slowly and breathed the crisp air in deep, feeling it fill his lungs and then expel in a billowing cloud in front of him. The fogginess and the falling snow muffled his footsteps. He walked a few blocks around Hogsmeade and then he eventually came back to his shop.

When he was inside, he left his wet boots and cloak by the front door, and stood at the bottom of the stairs, listening for any signs of movement coming from the young woman's room. When he heard none, he carried on in the opposite direction and headed for the kitchen to make breakfast.

When Lucinda was finally awake, Jasper was just finishing setting the small table that sat in a corner of the kitchen. He looked up, as he noticed her presence and the young woman returned his gaze with raised eyebrows. She glanced down at his hands, as they finished straightening the vase of white chrysanthemums in the center of the table, and then her gaze travelled over the spread of eggs benedict and roasted tomatoes. Her eyes snapped up to his again, which were creased in a smile.

"What's all this for?" she asked, sitting down despite herself.

Jasper followed suit and unfolded his cloth napkin, as he said, "Well, I believe I was completely out of line last night... and I wanted to do something nice, in hopes that you would forgive that behavior."

Lucinda had placed her napkin in her lap and then she looked compassionately at the man across the table. "Oh, Jasper, it's alright," she said, as colors of embarrassment rose to her cheeks. "It wasn't like you said anything that wasn't true."

"Regardless if it was true or not," the man locked eyes with her and then raised his glass of orange juice at her. "I am sincerely regretful for the things I said... Forgive me?"

The woman quickly flattened down her sleep-rumpled hair and then picked up her own glass. "Of course," she said and then clinked their glasses. After several minutes passed in silence as they ate, Lucinda paused to look out the window above the sink. The snow continued to fall outside and it was a somewhat calming sight. "Gosh, it's pretty out there," she whispered.

"Do you want to play in it?"

Lucinda looked back at the man with wide eyes. She almost laughed at the absurdity of his statement. "What?" she questioned and she actually did end it with a small laugh.

Jasper gestured at the window with his orange juice. "We can go build a snow gargoyle or something." Then he drained his glass and set it back on the table, where he found the woman looking at him like he was insane, but the corners of her lips were turned up in a smirk. "What?"

"You are mad," she said loudly.

"I am quite sane," he sighed and leaned back in his chair. "How often is there such a snow as this? We should go enjoy it."

"Jasper, I can't be seen."

"Well, I know that," he said quickly with a shrug of his shoulders. "But you'll be wearing a cloak with the hood up and with the snow coming down, I'm sure you wouldn't be noticed."

Lucinda looked skeptically out the window. She chewed her lip a little and then sighed back. "Maybe... but... I don't think I want to risk it."

The man raised his bushy eyebrows. "You sure?" he pressed. "I think you'd be alright."

Lucinda hesitated again, with another glance at the window, but then she shook her head. "It's alright. It's not like I won't ever play in the snow again." She smiled at him and drained her own glass. "We can do other fun things inside. Well, while the shop's not open, anyway," she added offhand.

Jasper looked at his plate and said, just as offhand, "I'm not opening the shop today. Do you want anymore juice? Some coffee?"

The young woman's brown eyes scrutinized him for a moment. "Not opening the shop?" she questioned, tilting her head a little. "Why not?"

The man crossed his arms over his chest and took a deep breath, letting it out with a smiling sigh. "Blimey, I just feel too brilliant to bother with it today," he replied with a sly smirk. "I haven't felt this great in years. I don't think I want to waste it running the shop."

Lucinda stared back at him, unable to stop herself from smiling a little, eyes wide and astonished, but joyful. "Are you sure?"

Jasper took his wand out of his pocket (something she rarely saw him do) and flicked it over her shoulder, where she heard the hearth erupt in a roaring fire. "Positive," he said.


Benny watched his friend across the table with caution, but it was gradually turning into relief. Today, for the first time in forever, the king of the Hufflepuffs had cracked a joke at breakfast. It was only one joke and then he ate quietly, without another word, but it was a start, it was something, and it gave Benny hope. It made him want to joke around and talk like they used to. Now it was just a matter of whether or not X would reciprocate...

"Wanna know what my dad said in August?" Benny suddenly asked.

Xavier paused with his fork halfway to his mouth and looked up at the other. "What?"

"He said he'd let me get my motorcycle license next summer if I started getting serious about my fitness." He'd said the words, as he pushed his food around his plate and didn't look at the redhead.

X put his fork down with a loud clang and then smacked the top of the table with a heavy palm. "What?" he blurted. "That's why you've lost all that weight?"

The blonde boy's ears went pink and his shoulders came up in embarrassment. "Well, he's never been anywhere close to allowing me before, so..." he trailed off. A moment passed and then Benny jumped violently when Xavier suddenly let out a burst of deep chuckles that had him doubled over, clutching his sides.

"Oh-oh my god—HAHA!"

"What?" Benny snapped. "What's so funny about that?"

Xavier wiped his eyes and, still laughing, looked up at his friend. "I-I thought you'd, like, completely done a one-eighty on me, but y-you just wanted—HAHAHA!"

Benny pouted comically. "But why's it so funny?" he grumbled and stared down at the tabletop.

"Because, Benny!" X exclaimed with a grin. "You're still you! And-and..." The redhead trailed off and smirked a little sadly at his plate, shaking his head. "And, of course you are. Why did I ever think that you weren't? I've been so..." He looked up at the blonde young man, thinner in the face, but just as kind and innocent in the eyes. "Benny... I... I'm sor—"

"Nope!" The blonde slammed his hands over his ears and stared crazily and wide-eyed across the table. "Don't say it! Don't need to hear it! Shut up, right now!"

"Hey, let me apolo—"

"Nope, nope, nope!" Benny shot up from the table, hands still over his ears. "Lalalala—don't need to hear another word!" He started pulling his legs out from around his seat, while still trying to keep the death grip on his ears and it was making him wobble all over.

X was laughing again. "Benny—HAHA—calm... calm down—"

His laughter could be heard across the Great Hall. Aurora heard him all the way from the staff table. The sound of that laugh filled up her chest with light and warmth and she smiled against the rim of her goblet.

Things were going to be okay...


"Is everything alright, Severus?"

There had been several times in the last few years that those words had come from the Headmaster. Sometimes laced with suggestion or warnings or condescension, but always from him and always with just the hint of concern, as well... This time it was not the old man. It was Poppy.

She watched him from a few feet away. He had been standing in the courtyard, taking a walk between lessons, observing the light snow that continued to fall throughout the day. It was very much like the silent snow that had fallen that night on New Year's Eve. He'd stood in her front yard and watched her face, eyes closed and peaceful. It was the night she'd kissed him for the first time. It was the moment that he realized she felt something else for him that went beyond the realms of innocent friendship. That night felt so long ago...

"I'm fine, Madam Pomfrey," Severus said gently, giving her a glance, and then he stared off across the stone-cobbled courtyard. "Just thinking. Why do you ask?"

The woman stepped up next to him and peered up at his face. "I've been around you for years, Severus." She gave a smile and then matched his gaze, staring off at the snow coming down around them. "I was a Seventh Year when you first came to Hogwarts and I became the school matron the year after that. I've watched you grow up. I know by now when something is troubling you."

Severus looked over at her in surprise. "Feeling sentimental, are we?" he muttered with a scoff. "As I said, I'm fine. Just... thinking."

Maybe she was feeling sentimental. Seeing Jasper again—speaking to him again—had rekindled the memories of her past. Painful as they were, she was grateful for the experiences in her life. They forced her to grow and develop into the sensible woman she was now.

"Well, if things are not fine..." the woman said softly and put a warm hand on his shoulder. "Come and talk with me. Especially over the holiday. I won't be leaving the school."

Severus turned towards her, as she dropped her hand. "You're not spending it with Mr. Michael?"

Madam Pomfrey shook her head, but there was a hint of a smile there. "Turns out, he's been invited to the Borealis residence for Christmas, so he'll be spending his holiday with them. Which is fine, actually, because there are an astounding amount of students who took too many false illness potions this week leading up to exams and my hospital wing is quite full."

The man snorted with disapproval. "Serves them right."

"I suppose," Madam Pomfrey smirked and crossed her arms. "But it will give me something to fill my days with over the break. Are you staying?"

"Of course, I am." Snape turned to leave and the woman walked with him. "I rarely go home for Christmas."

"Then you can teach me the recipe for Xavier's potion," she said brightly, as they left the courtyard together. "I need to know how to make it after he graduates."


They'd spent the morning after breakfast enchanting snowballs beyond the window to fly at passing pedestrians. When the unsuspecting men and women were pelted with one in the back, they'd whip around, only to find no one there and the apothecary owner and the young woman would dissolve into muffled laughter beyond the shop walls. They sat on their bottoms and slouched beneath the windows, so as not to be seen, grinning at each other.

Later, they had lunch and Jasper showed her old photo albums of his years at Hogwarts. He actually didn't end up graduating. He left school when he was fifteen and traveled to different countries, wandering around in foreign places, not settling down for several years. He slept on friends' sofas and partied. He also did his fair share of drugs and was arrested by muggle police a time or two—which he always was miraculously released the next day.

Lucinda listened to his tales with wonder and fascination. She knew Jasper had some dark and wild things in his past. He had that air about him; that gleam in his eyes. But there was also a tiredness there, like his youthful years had taken everything out of him. She was glad the potion he'd taken had brought his spirit up. It was always up, but now his body could catch up, as well. And he didn't waste a moment of it.

He was on his feet all day, showing her things he hadn't before and straightening items in the storeroom. They made pancakes for dinner and topped them with gobs of apricot preserves; Lucinda couldn't stop laughing when a disgruntled Jasper tried to pick one of the cakes up like a slice of pizza and it went preserves-side-down in his lap.

When evening came, they listened to his records and he waltzed her around the sitting room. He held her hand and waist, and pulled her here and there, swaying gently or spinning her out, just to snap her right back into his chest.

Lucinda let out a bark of laughter, as she stepped all over his feet and the man hissed in protest, hopping on one leg.

"You are clumsy!" He yelled over the swell of the music, but his smile deceived him.

Lucinda laughed again and shoved him away, as the song ended. "You're just not the fantastic leader you think yourself to be."

Jasper gasped and put a hand to his chest. "My lady, you injure my pride."

"You actually don't strike me as someone who has much pride." She raised a brow, as the record flipped behind her and began to spin.

Jasper put a hand to his chin. "Actually, you're right about that. I don't!"

Lucinda snorted and started to walk back to her seat, but the swell of violins from the record stopped her. She turned to look at the spinning vinyl, as the voice of Al Martino drifted through the room.

"Build your dreams to the stars above,

But when you need someone true to love,

Don't go to strangers.

Darling, come to me."

"I find it strange, yet comforting, that you have muggle music..." she muttered offhand. "I love this song."

Jasper stepped up behind her and whispered in her ear, "Another dance, m'lady?"

Lucinda turned her face to him with a smile. "Actually, yes, please. It's one of my very favorites."

She let the man slide his hand down along her arm until it reached her hand, where he grasped her fingers within his palm and pulled her back to the open area of the room. He held her close and then they swayed. Lucinda slowly lowered her head onto his chest and let the music and the rhythm lull her into contentment.

"For, when you hear a call to follow your heart,

You'll follow your heart, I know.

I've been through it all. For, I'm an old hand

And I'll understand if you go, so..."

Lucinda hummed along to the song and closed her eyes against the gentle movement. She often sang this quietly to herself while she was doing something, like making potions or cleaning or cooking. She even remembered humming it whilst she was cutting Severus' hair that day so long ago...

There had been a moment between them then... He was going to say something to her, something important. Who knows what it could have been? She'd drawn attention to the "tattoo" beneath his sleeve and it ruined everything. She hadn't known then that it was the Dark Mark. She hadn't known that he used to be a death eater. She hadn't known how that knowledge would later make her feel...

She'd judged him on his past and he'd, in some ways, done the same to her. They were both resentful. How could that be good for anyone? Who could be happy living in such a way?

"Lucinda?"

She couldn't deny her attachment to him. But she kept trying to convince herself why they weren't good for each other and how difficult it would be to love him and be loved by him, in return. She convinced herself that everything she did was for the best and for the safety of everyone, because Severus was a death eater and if the Dark Lord ever returned... he would... he would have to—

"Lucinda, the song is over."

The woman lifted her cheek from the man's chest and looked questioningly up at him.

Jasper's eyebrows sunk low, as his gaze flickered over her face. A hand reached out and a thumb stroked her cheek.

"Why are you crying?" He whispered.

Lucinda pulled away from him with a start and quickly wiped under her eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was..."

The man's concerned expression didn't shift. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she laughed. "It was just the song. I'm going to go wash my face. Be right back."

The apothecary owner watched her depart the sitting room and listened to her footsteps down the hall and up the stairs. He pressed his lips together and then walked to the record player to shut it off. Mr. Martino was just getting to the part in "Melancholy Serenade" that always made Jasper feel the most nostalgic.

"Alone in my room, I watch the ghost of you.

Alone in the gloom, once more I'm close to you.

Melancholy Serenade. As the music starts to fade,

I feel your kiss, and then you... disappear."

The record needle crackled against the dust and then the room went silent. The apothecary owner put the record back in its sleeve and put it away. Then he headed back to his place by the fire, but on the way, he felt a great squeeze in his chest and he stumbled sideways, knocking their previously used teacups from the small table that sat between the two chairs. The crash was loud and Jasper winced at both the sound and the twinges in his chest.

He was on his knees, picking up the pieces of shattered porcelain, when Lucinda ran in. Her startled eyes found his form on the floor instantly and she stared at him in worry and surprise. "Are you alright?" She paced quickly to him. "What happened?"

Jasper waved a hand at her. "I'm fine," he laughed. "I said you were the clumsy one. Now you've learned my secret. I'm as coordinated as a new fawn."

Lucinda helped him clean up the rest of the broken teacups (which, actually, she just used her wand to return them to their original form) and then helped get the man settled back in his chair. When they were both seated by the fire, Lucinda couldn't help glancing over at him every few seconds. Eventually Jasper gave a sigh and looked over at her.

"I'm really fine, Lucinda." He smiled reassuringly and the woman glanced away. "It was one little stumble. Not a big deal. Really. I was dancing far longer than I should have, I suppose..."

"I'm sorry," Lucinda whispered, unable to keep from feeling at fault.

The man had to keep himself from snapping at her. "Don't," he said firmly. "Don't apologize."

The woman had her knees tucked up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs, as she glanced over at him, uncertain. "Maybe you did too much today..." she suggested quietly.

The shopkeeper grinned at her and shook his head. "No," he said with a flick of his eyebrows. "It was fantastic."

After a while, Lucinda spoke another quiet suggestion. "Perhaps we should head to bed early tonight. You probably need extra rest now." She looked at the mantle above the fireplace as she said it. Jasper had a small glass sphere that sat there. It had a purple flower inside, frozen in a beautiful bloom. She'd never asked him about it. She'd never thought to.

She never did.

"Let's sit here for a while longer," Jasper said softly and rested his head back against the upholstery of the chair. "And we don't have to talk about why you were really crying if you don't want to."

Lucinda's eyes flickered in his direction and then she settled her head back to match his. "I was just... thinking," she said after awhile.

"About Severus?"

Black eyes flashed in her mind and she closed her brown ones. Scents of cinnamon and parchment and old wood filled her memories. "Yes," she admitted in a breathy whisper and opened her eyes again. "About him."

The man waited a moment before he replied. "You know, it's not as complicated as you believe it to be."

"I think it is," she said instantly.

Jasper let a breath out and rubbed a hand across his stubbly chin. "Severus can be resentful..." he began carefully. "He can be spiteful and jealous and foolish and stubborn, but..." He paused and a gentle smile formed on his lips. "He can also be very loyal... very kind and exceptionally brave... And he does have the capability to love without limitations..." Jasper looked over at her, face hardening with determination. "But he needs the chance to realize that."

Lucinda locked eyes with him and swallowed tightly. She tried to think of what to say in response, but she couldn't in the end. They lapsed into silence and watched the fire burn down to embers. When Lucinda's eyes began to get heavy, she shifted in her seat and looked over at her companion. He was still awake, watching the coals in the hearth. His chin was in his palm and his other hand was lying against his chest, in a gesture of comfort. When Lucinda moved, he raised his head up to look at her.

"Tired?" He asked quietly.

She gave him a sleepy smile. "Definitely." She unfolded her legs from the chair and slowly stood, stretching her stiff back. "Ahh, I guess we should head up. Coming?"

Jasper leaned over and lit the lamp on the side table. "Actually, I think I'll stay up a while and read." He gestured to the bookshelf near the doorway to the hall. "Can you hand me the Pablo Neruda on the second shelf?"

"Sure." Lucinda spun on the spot and did as he requested. She found the name and pulled the book from its place, then walked back to him with it.

"Thank you," he said with a soft exhalation and opened the book somewhere in the middle.

Lucinda leaned her arms across the back of his chair and read over his shoulder.

"'I dreamed that I died'..." she said to the back of his head. "Well, that's cheerful."

Jasper laughed. "It's a love sonnet."

Lucinda grinned. "Jasper, you sentimental man."

"Perhaps," he said with a soft chuckle. "Get to bed, you."

Lucinda pushed off from the chair and sighed. "Yes, sir." She made it to the doorway before he stopped her again.

"Lucinda..." he spoke gently.

She looked over at him. His cerulean eyes met her dark ones and he held them in his gaze for a moment. Lucinda shifted sideways, turning towards him slightly. "What is it?" She asked brightly.

The man gave her a small smile and tilted his head to the side just a little, blinking slowly. "Everything will be alright."

Lucinda's brows knit together a fraction. Alright? She wasn't sure that was true. Things had been going terribly, actually. The only thing that was currently "alright" was Jasper's health. Everything could very well not be alright in the end...

But when Jasper said it... she believed him.

Her forehead un-creased and then she returned the man's smile. "Okay, Jasper," she nodded at him. "Goodnight."

He nodded back and said quietly, "goodnight."

Then he watched her disappear around the doorway and listened to her footsteps fade up the stairs. When he heard her bedroom door shut, his gaze shifted to the purple flower on his mantle. He watched it for a long time. After a few minutes, he pulled the blanket from the young woman's chair and covered himself with it, and then settled back in his seat, the book open upon his lap. He only read for a little while.


I dreamed that I died: that I felt the cold close to me;

and all that was left of my life was contained in your presence:

your mouth was the daylight and dark of my world,

your skin, the republic I shaped for myself with my kisses.


Lucinda didn't fall asleep right away. She thought she would, because she had been very tired only a few minutes before, but sleep only came when she thought of Jasper's reassurance: Everything will be alright.

It would. She knew it would... eventually.

She lay in the dark, watching the moon outside her window peek out from behind clouds. The shadows drifted over her face and soothed her mind. Soon sleep had claimed her and she slept right through the night.


Straightway, the books of the world were all ended,

all friendships, all treasures restlessly cramming the vaults,

the diaphanous house that we built for a lifetime together—

all ceased to exist, till nothing remained but your eyes.


Laurel lay in his hammock and kept it swaying gently with his wand held between his fingers. His free hand hung down, where Pan's hammock swung in unison below him. She held two of his fingers in hers and hugged a soft pillow to her chest with her own free hand. Laurel hummed some kind of haunting lullaby above her and she listened to him with closed eyes. He paused at one point, just long enough to ask her a question.

"Would you like to come to my house for Christmas?"

The girl didn't open her eyes at the proposition. She only squeezed lightly on his fingers and replied with a simple, "okay". She was afraid; afraid of Aurora and the rest of his family; afraid of what they would think of her; afraid they would be mean to her... but that fear was nearly extinguished knowing Laurel would be with her.


So long as we live, or as long as a lifetime's vexation,

love is a breaker thrown high on the breaker's successions;

but when death in its time chooses to pummel the doors—

Ay! there is only your face to fill up the vacancy,

only your clarity pressing back on the whole of non-being,

only your love, where the dark of the world closes in.


When Lucinda woke in the morning, the first thought that entered her mind was that she needed to pack. It was a new day—but, no, not just that—it was a new era; a brand new page in her life. She felt surprisingly clear-headed and inspired, and she knew that today was the day she would leave to fill that page.

Strangely, she wasn't positive where it was her destination resided, but she knew she needed to pack. She needed to leave. She needed to say her goodbyes and go; be done with this limbo and wavering.

She finished gathering her things before she ventured out of her room, because she felt that if she did anything else first, she would never leave. With everything packed, she dressed in jeans and a jumper, because those were easy to travel in. Then she clipped her hair back out of her eyes and left her room. She went ahead and carried her suitcase down and left it at the bottom of the stairs.

When she'd passed Jasper's room, he wasn't in it. She'd been in her room for a while packing things, so it was expected that he was already making breakfast or perhaps getting the shop ready for opening. But as she got closer to the sitting room, she realized there weren't any sounds of cutlery or running water; no smells of sausages frying or tea steeping. When she turned the corner into the sitting room, she found the man still in his chair, head resting peacefully against his chest and book still open in his lap.

Lucinda smirked and shook her head, as she walked past him, into the kitchen.

"You seriously spent all night in that chair?" She called, knowing her sudden voice might make him start. "You're going to have a terrible throb in your neck all day."

She filled the kettle with water and placed it on the stove, lighting the burner with her wand, and then opened the cabinet above to get out the tea. "What do you want this morning?" She asked, shifting the boxes and examining them. "Plain black? Earl Grey? I think there's still some of that peppery one—no, wait, it was cinnamon..."

She looked down at a couple of the boxes, as she held them in her hands. She rubbed a thumb over the cinnamon one and contemplated having it. She'd refused the entire time she was there, because it reminded her too much of Severus. But perhaps today...

Lucinda pulled one of the teabags out and brought it under her nose, breathing it in deeply. It made prickles erupt on the back of her neck and she sighed gently, placing the bag in a clean, empty cup. She tapped her fingers on the counter, as she stared at the kettle and waited for the water to boil. She could speed it up with her wand, but...

"Jasper!" Lucinda called sharply, unable to stop herself from griping at him. "Come on, get up already. I don't like standing here just staring at this exceptionally slow-boiling kettle all by myself with no one to talk to."

She crossed her arms, eyebrows cinched together in determination. She stared hard at the kettle. She would not use magic for something so simple. She would not...

Lucinda sighed in frustration after a moment and walked away from the stove, unable to stare at an unmoving object any longer. "Merlin's beard, Jasper," she walked back into the sitting room. "How late did you stay up? The last time you slept in this long, you were uncon—"

His head rested against his chest, body lax; skin wrinkled up at his chin, where it lay pressed to his collarbone. His lips were parted slightly, eyes open a sliver. His hands open on his lap, palms showing to the ceiling. His chest was... He was...

She didn't know how long she stood there. She was frozen. Her eyes didn't even move. She didn't blink. She didn't breathe. There was some incoherent thought in the back of her mind that told her if she didn't move, time would stop; time would reverse; time would become irrelevant and without limitations. The silence of the house suddenly started getting louder and she felt her vision blackening. Then she realized she still hadn't breathed.

Lucinda took in a grateful lungful of air and that small movement brought her out of her trance. Without thinking, she reached forward and snatched the book from the man's lap and looked at the page he was on.

I dreamed that I died: that I felt the cold—

Lucinda snapped the book shut with a scoff. "Wow, really, Jasper?" She laughed and her voice felt strange in her throat, in her head. "Couldn't even make it through a page and you passed out? You really are an old m—"

The words were sticking in her throat, like they were made of molasses or honey. She felt them swelling up her esophagus, cutting her airways. Her nostrils filled. They burned. Her eyes watered, as she tried to swallow the stickiness and the things pressing up into her chest, higher, they went; higher, higher.

Lucinda dropped the book and stepped away from the chair that the man was sinking into. She stumbled back and felt the walls moving and the floor shifting. There was a fog starting, it was filling the room or it was filling her mind. Her body was swimming in the atmosphere of his home; drowning in his presence and suffocating in his absence. Lucinda spun around and fled the sitting room.


Severus narrowly missed being shouldered out of the way by a Fourth Year, as he was leaving the Great Hall after breakfast. He watched the back of the boy's head, as he went trotting up the stairs after his friends and he had the deepest urge to drag the boy back down and give him a week's detention. The potion's professor had gotten too soft again. The little twits thought they could get away with murder.

He could make an example of the boy right then and there and ruin the last week he had until Christmas break. Severus smiled evilly to himself. Yes, that would be a fine punishment...

But he would also ruin his own week before break. Exams were upon them. They were smack in the middle of them. He had enough on his plate...

He watched the boy point at one of the larger girls in front of them and whisper to his friends. They giggled and the boy started to do a god-awful impression of some lumbering monster, swaying back and forth.

Then again, Severus thought, as he grit his teeth. I do so love to exact punishment...

The potions professor strode forward. "Mr. Coll—"

"Professor Snape."

The voice came from behind him. He turned and looked, finding a girl from one of his classes, standing with the oak front doors open. She was staring outside.

"What is it?" He snapped. He hated to be interrupted when he was in the middle of something.

"It's got your name on it," she replied and then turned to look at him.

Once her shoulder moved out of the way, he saw what had stopped her. There was an envelope floating in the air six inches from the door. Severus forgot about the boy behind him and slowly stepped forward. The girl moved out of the way, as the man came closer. Severus' fingers closed around the envelope and then he peered down at it.

It did, indeed, have his name on it.

Severus

It was one of the apothecary's enchanted envelopes. Jasper used them to send local messages to customers. But he could tell that this wasn't Jasper's handwriting. It was her's.

Snape quickly opened it, but there was nothing inside. He stared, confused and frustrated at the lack of message. He squeezed the envelope in his fist and gazed towards the front gate. What was she trying to do? What was she saying? What was this?

As much as he wanted to believe that this was just a ploy to get him to come so she could spit at him for bruising her beloved Jasper's chin, there was something else creeping into his mind; something that made him incredibly uneasy.

She didn't write anything...

Her lack of message was unsettling. She would have written something.

"Professor Snape?" The girl said behind him, as he went through the double doors.

"Class is postponed," he said and went down the front steps of the castle.


He'd started out just walking briskly on the path to Hogsmeade, mind floating around different scenarios, but it was those thoughts that caused him to break into a sprint only a few minutes into the walk. And before long, the sprint turned into a wisp of smoke, as he shot through the cold December air and materialized in front of Jasper's door.

He heard the sound before he went inside: a high-pitched scream, almost too unnatural to be human. He wrenched open the door and the sound intensified. For one terrifying moment, he really though it was a scream. Then he realized it was the distant whistle of a tea kettle.

"Lucinda?" He called.

He went around the shop counter and paused at the doorway there. A suitcase lay with its contents in a state of disarray, clothing and random items strewn around the floor of the hall. The sight of it sent a chill down his spine. Something had happened to her. Someone had broken in. She'd been taken. She'd been killed. She'd been...

He was going to head up the stairs, but once he was standing in the hall with her things around his feet, he stopped at the sight of the figure balled up at the end of the hall. He saw her silhouette against the light coming from the sitting room beside her, as she sat against the wall. She had her legs pulled up to her chest and her arms were around them, head resting sideways atop her knees. Her face was turned towards him. She didn't make any notion that she saw him standing there, but he was just relieved that she was still there; still seemingly intact...

"Lucinda," he said, voice breathy and obviously relieved, as he paced quickly to her. He knelt down and looked at her face. She didn't move, but her eyes shifted to look at him, as his face loomed closer. The kettle was still screaming somewhere in the kitchen and Severus flicked his hand sharply at the wall, silencing the object. "What happened?" He spoke softly, as a deep quiet settled over them. "Where's Jasper?"

Lucinda didn't respond. She just stared at him for an unblinking moment longer and then she looked away.

Her lack of response unsettled him further. He looked behind him at her things all over the floor of the hall and then returned his gaze on the woman. She just stared off somewhere to his left. Severus sighed and stood up, afraid of what he was going to find in the house.

Had Jasper left? Had he been attacked? Maybe they'd fought and Lucinda knocked him out, and now she was feeling guilty for it... but that seemed unlikely. She seemed to be in shock. He hadn't seen her in such a way before, not once. Something incredibly dire had happened to put her in such a state.

Severus had expected to find something amiss, but he hadn't been prepared to enter the sitting room and find nothing out of order, at all. Nothing was broken or upset. Everything looked perfectly normal. The only thing out of place was the man that sat slumped in his chair, unmoving...

And then Severus knew.

He knew what the situation was before he even stepped forward.

The potions professor was aware this day was coming. He'd known for a very long time; he just didn't know when it was going to happen. He should have realized it sooner. He should have seen the signs and listened to the man's words. He should have been thinking about what this would do to Lucinda, should she be witness to it...

But he hadn't been thinking. He was too focused on his own selfish needs and insecurities; his jealousy. It was all meaningless in the end...

"What will you do when I'm not around anymore?"

The words rolled around in his head at an alarming volume, as he stared at the motionless man. Severus had been very unkind to him. Lucinda was right about that, but he was always unkind to Jasper. It was what they did. It was how they interacted. It was how Jasper told him to be. He said he needed to be kept in line and wanted his friends to be blunt with him. Albeit, over the last two years, the potions master was a little too unkind, but Jasper knew he was only doing it out of grief. He always knew it... even when Severus didn't.

The sickly apothecary owner knew him probably better than he knew himself. He was always encouraging and positive, but also wicked and completely unapologetic about literally everything. Jasper was all-knowing and all-suffering, all at once. He had deep pain that he never let out, yet he could crack wit and smiles like no one else, leading everyone to believe that not a thing could ever possibly bother him.

He was one of his only true friends, introduced to him by Madam Pomfrey when he was twelve...

And now the bloody bastard had gone and died on him.


A/N: The songs in this are real songs, of course. And the poem is a real poem by Pablo Neruda. Jasper was one of my favorites. I always knew he was going to die. Life always comes with death. Bad things happen to us and you can't change it. When someone you love dies, it can feel unnatural and wrong. But everything must come to an end.