The joy of Christmas quickly faded.
She found out from Tonks why Bill had broken up with her.
"The recruit he was helping," Tonks had told her sadly. "Her name is Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons champion. He, er, well, they're together now."
She was devastated, again, by Bill Weasley. How on earth could she have been so ridiculously stupid?
Oh, she knew why! She loved Bill! She was crazy for him! He was her one true love, she had been so sure of that... maybe she could fix it! The French girl wouldn't stay with him for long! Those types of girls got bored with guys like Bill. Maybe Gwen had another chance.
Shattered by Bill Weasley, her bright countenance was gone. Until, late one night, her boss asked her the question she had been wanted to be asked forever.
"I need you to write a front page story," he had said.
Her heart had soared to the clouds. Fuck Bill! Her career was here! It was time for her to shine! Her dream was coming true!
"Interview the Minister and his workers about the Azkaban breakout and about how Sirius Black is involved."
Her heart sunk back.
So, a week after New Year's, she went to the Ministry and interviewed Fudge and collected all the information she needed for an article about why her best friend was responsible for all of the horrible things in the world. She would write it tomorrow.
The war was catching up with her and she needed a distraction.
She left the Ministry to find that the snow had turned to rain. She covered herself in her robes, leaving her purse out to become sopping wet, and she hurried into the Leaky Caludron.
She dumped herself into a seat, tossing her purse on the floor. Taking off her hood, she released her hair into the warm air. It was frizzy from the rain that had slipped through the protection of her hood. A waitress sauntered over to her. "I'll just have a fire whiskey," Gwendolyn said softly to the woman. She nodded and went to fetch the drink.
Gwen sighed and ran her fingers through the knotty mess. It was revolting, really. How was she to be a reporter if she could only report unimportant stories or lies? It confused and upset her greatly- especially since she was finally writing to her full potential! Why did this all have to happen now?
But she knew that wasn't all she was upset about. She missed Bill. It was a flame that had been extinguished… until she saw him again. She couldn't stop remembering loving him, wanting him. She was so silly, so naïve. Maybe she needed to stay away forever.
Was Fleur really that much better than her? Did the ditsy blonde truly make Bill happy? What did people even see in her?
She was looking around the pub, which was rather crowded for a cold Wednesday night. There were girls at the bar, being wooed away by some young wizards, whispering sweet nothings in their ears. There was a massive family in the back. Everyone seemed to have someone. Everyone had someone to be with or at least be distracted by.
That was when she noticed Severus Snape sitting alone in the corner, playing with an empty glass. Strange, she had never thought of Snape to be the type to go to a pub unless assigned to, and why would anybody be assigned to the Leaky Cauldron? No, he was here for him. Maybe he was meeting someone? She watched him for a moment more and decided no, he was not. He did not glance at the clock or the door. His eyes were focused on his glass. She scanned the bar once more. Nobody else was alone besides Snape and she was certain (fairly certain, because you could never be certain with Snape) he didn't want to be. She certainly didn't. Maybe he would be able to give her some solace, even in his rather prickly company. Anything was better than nothing. So she picked up from her purse from the wet floor and tried to smooth out her frizzy hair. She walked across the pub to his table.
"Hello," she greeted. He looked up at her, his face emotionless.
"Hello."
She gestured toward the seat beside him. "May I join you?"
"If you'd like." She smiled and put her wet purse on the ground again and sat beside him in the booth. The waitress took note and brought her firewhiskey over to their table. She thanked her and downed it in one gulp, the beautiful release of alcohol rushing to her head. She put down the glass and looked at Snape, who was eyeing her with a curious expression.
"What?"
"You're drinking away your sorrows with firewhiskey?" He slightly sneered at her and she rolled her eyes.
"Who said I'm drinking away my sorrows?" She retorted.
"I'm rather perceptive," he said sarcastically.
"I just had a stressful day at work," she explained. "I have no sorrows that need to be drowned. And forgive me if this drink isn't hardcore enough for you and whatever you've been drinking." She gestured towards his glass.
"I had one glass of wine, I don't believe that classifies as 'hardcore'." The waitress returned and refilled Gwendolyn's glass and she downed half of it. She looked at him again, feeling strange. The mystery man of Hogwarts, Rita Skeeter had dubbed him. Oh no…
"So what is truly ailing you, Gwendolyn?" Snape said with a sigh. He continued to play with his glass and Gwendolyn silently wondered why he did not just order another one. She placed her glass to her lips and took a hesitant sip.
"You certainly don't care," she said plainly. He raised an eyebrow.
"Now, why would I ask if I didn't care?"
"To make mundane conversation, like at the Yule Ball." Her emphasis on the words made him widen his eyes slightly.
"The situation is quite similar, you graced me with your presence and now I am forced to socialize with you." She downed the rest of her Firewhiskey, her cheeks now flushed. He looked mildly impressive, leaned back in his seat, his robes off and on the seat beside him, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Maybe impressive wasn't the word… attractive. Wow. She never thought she would describe Severus Snape as attractive. Maybe only at the Yule Ball, when they were standing by the door, as Hagrid was drunkenly cheering…
"Then leave," she said softly, looking at him rather intently. She realized her thigh was pressed up against his, the space between them gone. It wasn't the firewhiskey. The firewhiskey was her excuse- it was making her bolder. Snape said nothing, but slowly looked her up and down. It made her feel uneasy, how quiet he could be, how long he could wait. How controlled he was. It was what made someone a good Potions master.
"I'd rather not," he said, breaking her stupor. "And you have ignored my question."
"Nothing's wrong," she whispered. "Everything's fine"
"I don't think you'd be here if that was the case," he countered.
"You don't know me," she snapped back.
"Anything else for you, Professor?" The waitress broke them off from their little argument. Snape shook his head and silently handed her the galleons for his drink. "Thank you, Professor." He didn't say anything and she moseyed back behind the counter.
"So why are you here?" Gwendolyn asked, her voice lowered to hushed tone. "Since people only come here when they aren't fine, apparently."
He shrugged, still playing with his empty glass. "Why not go out on my birthday?"
"It's your birthday?" she asked incredulously. He nodded slightly. "Well, happy birthday." Her congratulations was rather lackluster and he sneered as she said it and made no response. "You must be ancient by now, Professor."
"36, close enough."
She moved closer towards him. "And what do 36 year olds do on their birthdays?" Her voice was smooth and elegant, but piercing.
He raised his eyebrows but did not move. "I don't know. I thought you had something in mind," he replied, his voice equally smooth. Like velvet, she thought. Writers always think of silly things like that, even when they are trying to seduce their professors. Her mind was screaming in outrage. What would Tonks say? What would SIRIUS say? Even worse, what would BILL say? Would he even care? Oh, she hoped he would!
Snape? Of all men? Well, he wasn't her friend, but she trusted him enough. She knew him enough. He was good at keeping secrets.
Perfect.
"Can't you read minds?"
He smirked. "I don't really need to use Legillimency to know what's on your mind, Gwendolyn."
"Well?" she asked briskly. She didn't want to play such silly games. She wanted to go to bed with him and wake up forgetting Bill Weasley.
He gave a slight smile. "Oh my, Gwendolyn, isn't someone acting quite grown up? No longer the silly, confused little girl in the classroom." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I believe I like you this way much better."
"Then?" she asked, nearly shaking. Hurry up, let's go, come on…
"Aren't you in love with Bill Weasley?"
"No," she responded too quickly. She stood up. "Let's go."
He slowly rose and gathered his cloak and handed her her purse. "I believe this is yours," he said, obviously disgusted by its soppy quality.
"Thank you," she muttered. She paid the waitress at the counter and she and Snape left the pub.
"Gwendolyn, I cannot bring you to Hogwarts while Dolores Umbridge is there," Snape said matter-of-factly. "And my house is certainly not fit for a lady." He made a face, reminding her of how unladylike one night stands were.
"I don't bring men to my house," she said firmly. She remembered how uncomfortable her bed was after she and Bill broke up the first time. She would never forget that they had made love on her bed. Not that anything like heartbreak would happen with Snape, but she had made it a rule.
"Wonderful," he said sarcastically.
"Let's go to Grimmauld Place."
He thought about, then grabbed her hand firmly and they Apparated away.
She released her hand from his grasp and hurried up the front steps and they slipped inside. They made it past the portrait quietly and she peered into the parlor. Nobody was there. She listened carefully and heard no noise in the kitchen. They went up the stairs to the third floor, where her room was. Hers was the first door by the stairs, so they reached it easily.
She let Snape in, looked out into the hall to make sure nobody had seen, then closed the door behind her. Relief flooded over her. "Thank Merlin," she murmured.
"Are you that worried about what Sirius Black thinks of you?"
She turned back to him and he was beside her bed, twisting his wand to set an alarm. She said nothing. She felt shaky, the realization of what she was doing settling in. She was going to have sex with Snape. When was the last time she had had sex with someone who wasn't Bill? Ages and ages ago with Andy. She had never had a one night stand before and it was a little nerve wracking. And Snape... He was so dark and brooding and his deep voice used to make her feel so small. Well, now it turned her on. Funny how things change…
But she hadn't invited him over to make sweet, soft love to her, like Bill did. She wanted to fuck. She wanted him to fuck all of the sadness and pain right out of her and leave her forgetting Bill and remembering something else. She didn't want an attachment, she didn't want a boyfriend. She wanted sex and Snape was the perfect person to give it to her with no strings attached.
So why was she so nervous?
She realized she ought to lock the door and she quickly muttered a silencing charm over the room. She noticed that he was done setting his alarm. "You can sit down," she muttered awkwardly, pushing a few random articles of clothing off the bed. He raised an eyebrow and sat down on the edge of the bed. "Sorry for the mess."
"I hardly noticed."
"Well I did," she said to herself. She didn't know what to do, so she sat down on the edge of the bed beside him. Immediately, he wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her closer to him. He wasted no time. He kissed her hard, greedily and with wanting. It felt so different from the soft, quick kiss they had shared under the mistletoe a year ago. She wrapped her shaky arms around his neck and reciprocated.
Perfect.
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She woke up slowly and drowsily rolled over, a slight ache in her head. The sun wasn't up yet- she could tell by the underside of her eyelids. But it was brighter than usual in the room. She slowly opened her eyes. The lights were on. Why? She must've forgotten to turn them on. She heard movement on the other side of the bed and turned over. Gasping, she covered herself with the sheet.
Snape was there, getting dressed. Suddenly, the previous night flooded back to her. She wasn't exactly sure what to think of it. He was rough and it was exactly what the occasion called for. It was perfectly enjoyable. But it was Snape.
"Good morning," she said softly. He turned to look at her and noticed immediately that she was covering herself. He smirked and continued to get dressed. "What time is it?" she asked sleepily. She stretched her arms out to the sky and released with a sigh.
"Nearly 7:30."
"Oh." She looked around but couldn't find any clothes. She noticed her robe hung on the hook on the door. "Can you pass me my robe?"
"And can you not get it yourself?" he asked slyly. "I won't be seeing anything I have not already seen."
She shrunk beneath the sheets more. She was slightly ashamed of what she had done and a bit timid to show herself to him again. She got up and wrapped the white sheet around her, then hobbled over to the robe and put it on. He approached her.
"You were always adequate at Potions, but I'm glad to know you're better at other things," he said softly. She glared at him.
"And perhaps, Potions is your best bet," she snapped, in an attempt to wound him. But it was difficult to wound Snape. He pushed her softly against the wall right behind her and put his hands in her hair. She lost her breath.
"One must never tell lies." Her breath was caught in her throat and he felt her up against the wall, pressing his lips to hers." She was about to drop her robe to the floor when her alarm went off. They pulled apart and she turned the alarm off. "I must be off." Snape said. She tightened her robe around her and opened the door for him. Without another word, he walked towards the door and walked to the stairs. She watched him go from the doorway and she saw him stop before descending. He moved out of the way so Remus could come up the stairs.
"Lupin," he greeted and then was on his way down. Lupin looked at Snape's descending figure, then at Gwen, trying to hide his disbelief.
"I hope I'm not getting the wrong impression here…" He said cautiously. Gwen closed her eyes. So close! So close to not getting caught. Lupin's eyes finally widened. "Gwen, I'm not judging you, but if it's what it seems-"
"Yes?" She said finally.
"Just be careful, alright?" Lupin smiled at her. "And you can talk to me whenever you need to."
She smiled, happy that Lupin didn't appear to think of her any less. "Thanks, Remus." He smiled again and went up to the final floor where Buckbeak was. She sighed and went to take her shower.