Severus Snape looked down at the naked woman in his bed, her Auburn hair was tangled across her face, last night's make up smeared on her cheeks. He felt disgusted with himself, he had fooled himself, in his drunken stupor, tricked himself into believing that she bore a resemblance to Lily. Now, in the soft light of dawn, he could see that she was nothing like her.
His skin was still sticky with sweat from their intimate encounter, he shuddered as he recalled mouthing Lily's name into the woman's neck as he climaxed. She had been none the wiser to his fantasising, eagerly writhing on his lap and giggling. He made his way to the bathroom and fumbled for the light switch on the wall. The uncovered bulb above his head bathed the grey tiled room in a lurid yellow light. He turned his head left and right, his reflection looked sickly in the old cloudy mirror.
Snape retrieved his straight razor, shaving cream and brush from the shabby wooden cupboard behind the mirror, and tackled the black stubble on his face. He splashed his face clean with water and ran his fingers through his dark hair. The mirror rattled loudly as he slammed it shut. He looked no better when he looked at himself again, he looked exhausted and unhealthy.
Back in the bedroom, he dressed himself in his usual black robes. The woman in his bed snorted in her sleep, he looked at her in disgust, resolving to kick her out once he'd finished in the kitchen. Downstairs, his enchanted, ornate black kettle, was already on the hob. The water inside was bubbling away with a vigour that he currently lacked. Rifling through his cupboards, he found what he was looking for, strong coffee and Vitamix potion.
Vitamix potion was known to cause unpleasant side effects, but this was Snape's own mix. Brewed with an added extra to negate any ill effects. He consumed both in a matter of minutes, swigging the blue liquid from the vial and washing it down with the strong, bitter coffee. He felt marginally renewed, it was taking more and more to drag him out of his fatigued state. He decided on another dose of the Vitamix, hoping to feel something more than the heavy weight on his shoulders that threatened to bring him to his knees.
Back upstairs, he observed the woman silently for a few moments, watching her drool on his pillow in a wholly unsophisticated manner.
"Muggles..." he drawled.
The woman stirred and blinked her eyes, "Mmm, good morning," she said, stretching her arms outwards.
Severus didn't change his stony expression, "You need to leave."
"Can't a girl get a cup of coffee first?" she asked him, a bewildered smile on her lips.
"I want you to leave," he answered, not a hint of emotion in his voice.
"Okay, okay... lemme get dressed first," she said, now looking peeved at Snape's insistence that she go right away.
"Make it quick," was all he could say in return.
He wanted her gone, she was a reminder of his one weakness. She embodied everything that he hated about himself when he started drinking. The night had started with him sat alone at home, drinking pure malt whiskey. What followed, was that warm feeling that encapsulated him, urging him to give into his base instincts. He hated it, he hated how weak he was. Images of Lily would float about his mind, and before he knew it, he was stumbling out his front door and down the street to the closest Muggle pub.
She had been sat watching him as he nursed a large glass of red wine, her expression spoke volumes, she seemed just as uncomfortable as he did. The flash of her green eyes and her red hair sparked something in him, he knew he shouldn't, but the alcohol in him had other ideas. After his third glass of wine, it was as if Lily herself were speaking to him, he blocked out the nonsense that the Muggle woman was spouting about her job. He didn't care.
When the woman had laid her hand on his, something inside of him had taken over. He had lacked the resolve to push her away, and so now he stood patiently at the foot of the stairs, waiting for her to leave him in peace.
"This isn't usually how you treat a woman after a night like that," she said as she descended the creaking wooden staircase carefully.
Seemingly, she placed more meaning on their drunken fumbling than he did, "I should never have brought you here," he told her as he opened the door.
She left with a backward glance to indicate her disapproval, but Snape didn't care. He slammed the door behind her, hearing her shout obscenities before walking away with a final shout of "freak."
Severus sank into his old, beaten sofa and pinched the bridge of his nose between two cold fingers.
I'm not doing this again, I'm not drinking anymore, he thought, throwing his bottle of whiskey against the soot covered fireplace, splashing the walls and himself in light brown liquid.
He picked up the newspaper, delivered by owl that morning. Having read the same two lines of text over and over, he sighed and waved his wand. The pieces of the broken bottle fused themselves back together, the liquid floated through the air in droplets, joining together until they formed a steady stream flowing into the waiting bottle.
The pure malt whiskey landed back on the table, waiting for Snape to pick it up again. And he would...