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"Shit!" she snapped as her quill did the same underneath her fingers. She tossed the broken utensil into the bin and rummaged around her bag for another, but her search was fruitless. She sighed and dropped her purse to the ground. There was a huge article Mr. Cuffe needed on his desk tomorrow morning and she was barely halfway done with it.
"Now where on earth do you keep your quills, Severus Snape?" She asked the empty bedchamber. Though she had told him she was coming over that night, she had been greeted by vacant rooms. Assuming he had been called away to a meeting, she had started on her work. But as time passed she grew curious and slightly worried. He had been called unusually early this night and it had been two hours already. Then again, she didn't know how long these gatherings usually lasted- she always fell asleep before he returned. Still, she couldn't help wondering.
She knew he would be furious with her if he caught her rummaging around his desk, but the work needed to be done and she didn't know when he would be returning. She opened a few drawers and carefully lifted up any papers or objects in the search for a quill. "Merlin, do you not own any?" She opened a bottom drawer and underneath rolls upon rolls of parchment was the small Muggle photo of them in London. She smiled fondly at it and was touched that he had kept it. He wasn't normally so sentimental.
"Ah!" She proudly pulled a quill out of another drawer. Satisfied, she went back to the desk to finish the article.
An hour passed and there was still no sign of Severus as she was proofreading her finished work. She sighed and went to hide the quill again.
Part of her had felt, since his birthday, that things between her and Severus had changed. They spent more time together, and were more physically affectionate. But his words about their arrangement had wounded her, had made her feel disposable. They were so out of character from all his other words and actions from the past few months. Maybe she had been imagining that their relationship had changed. Maybe he did just view her as a shag and nothing more.
It wasn't as though she wanted more. He was a spy after all! That was one of the first things they had discussed at the beginning of their arrangement. That was one of the first things he had said when they spoke about future relationships a few weeks back. Being a spy was a lifetime commitment and job.
But that didn't mean he didn't need companionship! Maybe he felt she was acting too romantically but that was not what she meant. She was determined to confront him about her feelings the moment he returned.
Slam! Went the door to his rooms and she heard struggling footsteps behind the bedchamber door. It flew open a few agonizing minutes later.
There he was, grasping onto the door knob for dear life, it seemed. Perhaps I'll confront him another time.
She didn't know what to do or how to react, but her instincts brought her to him. She grasped his arm, but he drew away in pain. "Leave me be!" He hissed, recoiling like a wounded animal. She glanced at her hand briefly and noticed it was covered in blood.
"I can't… I can't just leave you be!" She cried. He tried to move to the bed, but nearly fell, so she grabbed his arm again and steadied him. He finally stopped moving but stood there, held up by her hand on his arm, wheezing. She watched him silently, dumbfounded. She had never seen him like this.
After a while, he seemed to have mustered enough energy to limp to the bed. She still clung to his arm. He finally reached it and sat on the edge.
"I used… my energy to… get here," he said, gasping for air.
"You don't need to explain yourself to me," she said softly. He glanced at her for a moment, then turned away and closed his eyes. "You're bleeding, Severus," she said quietly, not exactly sure how to address it.
"I know," he breathed. They sat again in silence as he attempted to gather strength to do whatever was next on his agenda. He was trembling rather violently, worse than the night he had returned to Number 12 Grimmauld Place with Cruciatus tremors. Worse than Tonks in the hospital after the Battle of the Department of Mysteries.
He started trying to push himself up. "What are you doing?" she asked worriedly. He tiredly gestured towards the bathroom. "Let me help you!"
"I don't need your help!" He nearly shouted. But his outburst wasted all his energy and he collapsed back on the bed, almost into her arms.
"I think," she said softly. "You need my help." He said nothing but scowled. Such a child, she muttered internally. "You need to shower?" He nodded. "Can I help undress you?"
"No," he croaked, looking helpless and miserable. His breath was ragged and he still quaked. "Too much blood."
"I can handle it."
"I don't want you to see it." His intense black eyes met hers and they looked at each other for quite some time.
"Shall I help you to the bathroom then?" She asked, breaking eye contact. He grunted a yes and she helped him up. They walked slowly to the door and when they reached it, he grasped onto the doorframe and instructed her to get him a pair of pants from the closet. She did so and he wordlessly disappeared into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.
It was silent and she heard no noise come from the bathroom. She didn't know what else to do, so she changed and got into bed. She stared at the ceiling and waited.
She wondered if he did this every time. This certainly was not the first time- he was too calm, too organized. This was what happened before she saw the scars on his body or his mild shivers the next morning. While she slept peacefully, he dragged himself into the castle and washed himself of blood and healed his wounds. She knew he suffered injuries, but they seemed mild when she saw them. She had never imagined it would be something like this… I will never sleep before he comes back ever again, she promised herself.
About an hour later, he emerged from the bathroom. His hair was wet and he wore nothing but the black pajama pants she had brought him. His eyes widened upon seeing her. "What are you still doing here?" he asked roughly.
"Was I supposed to leave?" she asked, a bit taken aback.
"I can't… we can't meet tonight, Gwendolyn," he muttered, limping over to the bed. He seemed to have regained his energy and had obviously cast a few Healing charms over himself.
"I know."
"Then why are you here?"
"I'm not allowed to stay?"
"I don't see why you would want to," he mumbled, but she did not respond. She could not take her eyes off the new scars on his arms and chest, bright red and gleaming under the dim lighting. She noticed the Dark Mark on his left arm. She usually could never see it. It was nothing more than a scratch etched onto his skin when she saw him. But now it was darker than usual, since he had just been to a meeting.
It suddenly felt so real. He was actually a Death Eater. He really went to see You-Know-Who once or twice a week. Those awful red eyes Gwen had glanced into once for merely a second- Severus was forced to look into them on a regular basis! Seeing him bearing the physical proof made it all seem… real.
"Does this happen every time?" she asked quietly. She felt like crying- it wasn't easy to see him like this.
He lied down beside her. "Often enough."
"But I thought you were his favorite!"
"The Dark Lord believes everyone ought to be… reminded of their place in the grand scheme of things," he said bitterly.
She wanted to ask him more, but she didn't want him to have to relive what obviously had been an awful night. She noticed he was still shaking.
"It's getting more difficult," he whispered, his eyes glued to the ceiling.
"How?"
"If only I could tell you." He would not look at her.
"Why does Dumbledore make you go?" It was, perhaps, a foolish question. But she was sure Dumbledore cared for Severus in some capacity. She was sure he had seen him in this state. Why then did he insist Severus return?
"Because it's necessary." His voice was filling up with emotion. The wall was coming down. "Because if I don't go, we won't win."
Her heart broke for him. She didn't know all the particulars- she didn't need to. She saw him and behind the wall of cold, emotionless Death Eater was a broken, but good man. If only everyone else saw behind the barrier, maybe they would be more sympathetic towards him. But perhaps, that was the point.
"Well," she said quietly. "Then thank you." Now he looked at her, seeming mildly confused by her words. He nodded slightly and then looked back up at the ceiling.
She moved closer to him and started to stroke his hair. "Why are you doing that?" he snapped and she smiled to herself. Even with his walls down, he was still Severus.
"When people stroke my hair, it calms me down," she said with a shrug.
"You have lots of people stroking your hair, then?"
She laughed. "I'm afraid not."
"Good," he mumbled and she raised an eyebrow, but didn't question it. She continued to stroke his hair until she noticed his breath had become slower and his face had relaxed. She softly kissed his temple and went to sleep.
XXXXXXXXXX
Remus returned from the werewolves in April, to everyone's delight. He was rather disheveled and seemed to be rather glum (or severely depressed), but he was pleased to see that Tonks was doing better. Mrs. Weasley threw a rather large welcome home dinner for the man, to which a large number of Order members attended. The conversations were not war related whatsoever (at the command of Mrs. Weasley). It felt almost like the dinners they used to have Grimmauld Place.
Almost.
But though Sirius Black was not attending the dinner for his best friend Remus, his spirit was very much alive at the Burrow that night. People were laughing and enjoying each other's company. Tonks was changing her nose to the amusement of Mr. Weasley. Nobody was acting especially morbid, nobody was upset or whispering in secret. The night was filled with friendship and joy, and to Gwendolyn it felt almost magical.
The kitchen was packed with people, so Gwendolyn took her drink into the sitting room to get some breathable air. She closed her eyes in bliss, listening to the laughter from the next room, smelling the sweet scents she so often smelled in Grimmauld Place. It hadn't seemed so wonderful back then- it had just seemed normal. But she would trade anything to go back.
Something was missing. Something was wrong. Maybe it was Sirius, but she didn't know if that was it. The night didn't feel as full, as complete, and she wracked her brain to figure out why.
"Are you feeling alright?" She opened her eyes and Kingsley Shacklebolt was in the doorway. She smiled kindly at him.
"Yes, I'm fine, thank you." She took a sip as Kingsley sat beside her. "It's just gotten rather crowded in there." He smiled warmly.
"Indeed. This is a rather nice thing to do for Remus, though."
"It is," she said happily. Remus had seemed a bit less drab in the kitchen. She knew no amount of parties or dirty jokes would lift his spirits indefinitely, but every little bit helped. "How are you, Kingsley? It's been nearly a year on this new assignment."
"It has, indeed. Kind of you to remember. It is a most time consuming post, but not quite taxing in the ways being an Auror on the field is. In fact, this post is rather boring."
"I can imagine! Have there been any close calls? You know, someone attempting to attack the Minister?"
Kingsley shook his head. "The Death Eaters seem to have more important targets in mind. There's been no intel on who as of yet. Perhaps soon we'll know." How horrifying. "But I hope to have more time away from the Prime Minister in the next few months- the Ministry is to send another Auror to trade off with me, as to not create suspicion among the other Muggle workers. So perhaps we will be seeing more of one another rather soon."
She smiled. She enjoyed Kingsley's company. He was a calming presence. "I'd like that. I'm sure everyone else would too." She stood up. "I ought to put this in the sink. Mrs. Weasley is serving dessert soon as well. Are you coming?" He stood up.
"I'm afraid I ought to get back to the Prime Minister," he said, his voice tainted with disappointment. Gwen smiled sadly.
"You're always running off somewhere," she said with a sigh. "I'll see you soon then."
"Of course," he said, returning her smile and heading for the door.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Why is it okay for us to meet for lunch but not okay for us to go out to dinner?"
The spring had flown by and before Gwen knew it, it was June. Work had been hectic- with all the disappearances and murders, Gwen was constantly writing new articles and interviewing Ministry officials. Sometimes it was easy to forget about her ex-friends in the workplace.
Sometimes.
But she chose to not think of them, just as she chose not to think of Bill Weasley. Occlumency had become a very helpful practice, though she was far from mastering it. She felt herself losing control of her emotions less and less. A good skill to have in wartime.
Severus made an exasperated face at her and she laughed. They were at lunch in a rather empty Three Broomsticks a week later. "Have we not had this discussion before?"
"Tell me again."
"Taking information from a naïve former student of mine over lunch occasionally is much different than taking her out to dinner."
"No need to insult me," she scoffed. "It could be me getting the information out of you, you know. I am a journalist, after all."
"Right," he shot back. "And why on earth would the Prophet want information on me?"
"Rita Skeeter did," she remembered.
"What?" He suddenly seemed very interested. "Why? When?"
"Oh, ages ago. She asked me to write an article about you for Witch Weekly."
"What the f- why?" He seemed far from pleased about it which made Gwendolyn laugh again.
"Oh, you know! You're Hogwarts's youngest professor! Mysterious, enticing Potions master, making seventh year girls get a bit too excited when he walks past-"
"Enough, I beg you, I have no desire to hear this rubbish anymore!" He nearly shuddered. "And what did you tell her when she asked?"
She smirked. "I told her you wouldn't tell me anything interesting enough, but that I thought you had a thing for redheads." He suddenly seemed extremely solemn and it made Gwen a little uncomfortable. "Of course, I was just kidding," she said, her voice a little high.
"Can you come tonight?" he asked suddenly.
She raised an eyebrow but he merely looked at her, waiting for a response. "I suppose so. For a lesson?"
"No."
"So just… our distraction?"
"No… well, yes. But… just come. Please."
Please? Since when did Severus say please? Especially when asking her to come over? But he seemed awfully serious about it, so she decided against teasing him about it and nodded.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
She slowly opened his bedchamber door and he was looking out the window, up at the sky. The dungeon window had a lovely view of the stars, when one looked up, she remembered. "Severus?" He turned abruptly to face her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt anything."
"You didn't," he assured her. "I was just waiting for you."
She approached the window and they looked outside together. "I love the stars," she whispered.
"I remember," he murmured back.
"Maybe that friend of yours was right," she said softly. "About the stars having magic?"
"I think she was."
They could've watched them forever and it seemed as though the world had stopped and all that mattered was the starry night sky. For that moment, the world seemed peaceful. There was no war or pain or torment. There were no broken relationships or scarred hearts. There were no Death Eaters and no Order. There was Severus Snape and Gwendolyn O'Shea and the stars that always watched down on them.
He turned to look at her. "I want to show you something. Come."
"What?" She watched him walk towards the door. "Where are we going?"
"Upstairs. Come."
She put down her bag and followed him out of his chamber. They walked through the empty, dark corridors of Hogwarts and Gwendolyn suddenly felt nervous. "What if we're caught?"
"By whom? Gwendolyn, Mr. Filch won't give us detention for walking about Hogwarts at night."
"I know," she whispered sheepishly, still feeling nervous. She only wandered Hogwarts' halls at night when she was on patrol- usually alone. He didn't say anything, but continued to lead her through the school. Snape's office and rooms were so far away from everything else, she mused. But that was why he liked them.
They reached the entrance to Dumbledore's office. "Why are we here?" she asked nervously.
"You'll see. Pumpkin pasties," he told the gargoyle and it leapt aside. They stood on the moving staircase that brought them to the office. Gwen expected Dumbledore to be there, but he wasn't. The red and gold room was empty, besides herself, Severus, and Fawkes.
"Where's Dumbledore?" she asked.
"Out."
"Are we supposed to be here?"
"It matters not." He was looking for something, intense focus in his eyes.
She walked over to the phoenix and started to stroke its feathers gently. "You know phoenixes can sing? It's supposed to be one of the most beautiful sounds ever. But it only happens when they're mourning."
"Yes, I know. Come here." She turned and saw the Pensieve. He put his wand to his head and pulled out silver strands, releasing them into the basin. He put his wand in his robes and took her hands, which took Gwendolyn by surprise. She liked how her hands felt in his.
"Listen to me," he said softly, but firmly. "What I am about to show you is something I have not shown anyone, besides the Headmaster. I am trusting you with this. You must swear to never speak of this."
"What is it?"
He hesitated, then said, "Everyone asks Dumbledore why he trusts me. Why I left the Dark Lord. This is why. I swore him to secrecy nearly sixteen years ago and he has kept his word." He locked eyes with her. "Swear you won't tell. Promise me, Gwendolyn."
"I promise," she said intently. He let go of her hands and backed away. "You want me to watch alone?" He nodded and she stared into the Pensieve. She dipped her hand in the liquid and swirled it around. Finally, she dove headfirst into the memories.
A little boy with black hair to his shoulders. Severus. A little girl with flaming red hair and green almond eyes. He called her Lily Evans. A little town beside a river and two children, spending the summer under trees and on playgrounds, skipping rocks by the stream, talking of Hogwarts and magic and learning spells. They were looking up at the sky and the little girl said the stars had the purest of magic. How profound for a little girl. But the little girl with the flaming red hair danced under the stars, as though trying to soak up all the magic they released.
A train and two loud boys. Sirius and a boy who looked just like Harry. James. Gwen smiled at seeing Sirius again. But Sirius and James were nasty here. They were cruel to Severus for no reason. And while Sirius and Severus were smaller, their eyes were the same- full of hatred for one another.
The Sorting Hat. There was McGonagall, placing it on their heads. Lily, James, and Sirius went to Gryffindor, Severus went to Slytherin.
But suddenly the lighthearted conversations with Lily turned into fights about Dark Magic. She didn't like it and he kept promising to be better.
A scene by the lake. James and Sirius were bullying Snape, while a passive Remus watched. Why was Sirius being so cruel and horrible? This wasn't the Sirius she had known! No wonder Severus had hated him.
Then Lily came to save the day. And Snape called her a….
Apologies. Teenage Severus seemed desperate for forgiveness, but Lily wouldn't hear of it.
Suddenly, it was an older Severus, at Dumbledore's feet, begging pathetically for him to "save them, save her". He would do anything, he claimed. He didn't care about the price he would have to pay.
It clicked. Lily Evans was Lily Potter. Harry's mother. He had loved Harry's mother. It made sense! The day Tonks had had the red hair and green eyes and Severus had been uncomfortable. The time Gwen had told Severus everyone thought that she was like Lily Potter and he had seemed rather tense.
Severus Snape, announced new Potions master in the Great Hall on her first day at Hogwarts. She found her little Gryffindor-self sitting at the table, clapping and smiling for the mean looking man at the table.
He was sobbing in the same office they were in, wishing to be dead, shouting at Dumbledore. She had never seen Severus cry.
Dumbledore telling Severus to protect Harry. Severus saying yes, but for one reason.
And then, the memory changed. The same men in the same room, now sixteen or so years older. Severus was walking towards the door to leave.
"You worry me, Severus," Dumbledore called after him, but he sounded reprimanding. "I wonder about your intentions in this war."
Severus whirled around to look at him viciously. "You do not trust me? After all these years of carrying out your every request, you do not trust me?"
"I trust you completely, Severus, but I often wonder about your motives for fighting so hard for our cause. I know your initial reason is no longer valid."
Severus stared directly into Dumbledore's eyes. "You have saved me from the pits of hell," he said, his voice deathly calm. "And you question why I fight for you."
The memories disappeared and Gwen was thrown back into the office.
He was still standing there, waiting for her. He waved his hand and his memories flew from the Pensieve and into a vial he was holding. He put a stopper in the vial and the Pensieve retreated back into its cabinet.
She was at a loss for words. "Severus, I…" She faded out. He approached her. He put his hands on either side of her face and looked into her eyes. Blue as wine, the woman had said in Knockturn Alley that day nearly two years ago. His defenses slipped away revealing the pained eyes beneath, only for a moment.
And then he kissed her. It was soft and gentle. It wasn't wanting, like his other kisses. He wasn't trying to take from her. She wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him for dear life, and lost herself in the kiss.
There was a creak outside and they broke away from each other. The door opened and Dumbledore stepped into the room, surprised to see them. "Severus? Gwendolyn? What's wrong?" Severus said nothing, but instead walked out. Gwen raised an eyebrow, then looked at Dumbledore apologetically.
"Sorry, sir," she muttered.
"Don't apologize for Severus, my dear," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling. "Is everything all right? Was there something you needed?" The headmaster seemed… older. Sickly, even.
"Yes, everything's fine. Are… are you all right, Headmaster?"
Dumbledore smiled kindly. "Old age is slowly catching up to me, I'm afraid."
"You'll be alright, Professor," she said, trying to sound assuring. The thought of Dumbledore becoming sick or even dying was absolutely unthinkable. "Sorry, again, for intruding."
"No more apologies, my dear, it's quite alright. I have become accustomed to Severus bursting in and out of my office these past sixteen years." He chuckled slightly and held up the dish of lemon sweets, to which she politely declined. "And how are you? What goes on at the Daily Prophet as of late?"
"I'm well. The Prophet is the same- well meaning journalists having to cater to whatever the Ministry feels is appropriate. Luckily the Ministry finds the truth to be more appropriate these days."
"Ah yes, for that we are very lucky. For now."
"For now, sir?"
Professor Dumbledore sighed. "War is ruthless, Gwendolyn. Our current minister is a target for attack, as you well know. If Lord Voldemort grows much stronger, as we believe he will, the Ministry will be the first thing he tries to conquer."
"If he controlled the Ministry, he'd control the media," Gwendolyn thought aloud. "He'd… he'd control the school, wouldn't he?"
The headmaster smiled sadly. "Technically, yes, he would. But Hogwarts cannot be controlled, not truly. And Hogwarts will always be home to those who need it in all circumstances, no matter how dark."
She smiled. She liked that sentiment. Hogwarts had been a home to her when her homelife fell apart as a girl. Hogwarts had been a home to her once Sirius had died. Hogwarts would always be here.
"But now, my dear, I fear Severus must be wondering why you have yet to also barge out of my office after him." She nearly blushed and felt uncomfortable. She knew Dumbledore knew. She didn't like discussing Severus with him. "Good night, and please do not hesitate to "barge in" if you ever so need."
"Good night, Headmaster," she said, feeling melancholic. She smiled sadly at the old man with the twinkling blue eyes, and slipped out of the room.
She reached Severus's chambers and he was already there, at the window again, staring at the stars. She didn't question his rudeness towards Dumbledore, but instead…
"Do you still love her?" Gwen had to know.
He turned to look at her. "She will always have a special place in my heart," he said softly. "But no, I do not love her anymore."
"But you still protect her son."
"I will always protect her son." Gwen smiled. She wished Harry knew of his faithful guardian, wished he didn't doubt Severus the way he did.
"And do you… do you think I'm like her? Like Dumbledore says?"
He looked at her as though he was seeing her for the very first time. Finally, after a few moments, he spoke.
"No. You're not 'like Lily'. You're you. You and she share the same unfailing kindness that isn't seen in many people, which is perhaps why you're so often compared." He approached her and took her hands again. "But don't… don't compare yourself to other people, Gwendolyn. You're wonderful being you."
"Is that… a compliment? From Severus Snape? How very out of character." She said softly, giving him a tiny smile. He rolled his eyes.
"Oh, piss off!" He whispered.
That night, while they were together, Gwen felt a very nostalgic and bittersweet feeling in her chest that she couldn't place. And some time in the night, she got out of bed while he was sleeping and went back to look at the stars.