Diclaimers and such -

All things not Allosia belong to JKR.

Alright, I lied, a little more sweetness and light before the big angsty thing. I have to get us there somehow. Like you're complaining.

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Snape slid quietly out of bed. Allosia stirred slightly and he waited a moment watching her, to see if she would wake, although he doubted it. The woman would spend half the day in bed, given the opportunity, she certainly wasn't going to notice him pacing around in the pre-dawn hours.

As much as she was so clearly a woman, in body, intellect, emotion and self- possession, she still seemed small and strange and half-imagined to him. And young. A strange relic, from the time before.

He reached for his robe and pulled it around him. She had been so insistent when they had gotten in, her hands slipping into his clothes any which way she could find. It was delicious, and he hoped she wasn't hurt by his refusals; they were certainly breathless enough to convince anyone of his desire for her.

Snape chuckled and shook his head. He had never much been one for restraint, but they were so volatile and this was such a potential mess. Not to mention, living and working in the same building didn't really give either of them an easy way out. Maybe, after the Malfoy event, he'd give in. Maybe.

He grimaced and went to his sitting room and folded himself into his usual chair by the fireplace. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He was damn worried about this party.

It would have been horrific under any circumstances, but he worried that Allosia didn't fully understand the things he would no doubt be required to overlook, if not in fact participate in, at this gathering. More importantly, he worried he wouldn't have the strength to keep it from her, especially with it directly involving a student they both taught.

Snape secretly felt sorry for Malfoy. It was clear the boy hadn't the slightest idea what he would need to endure, to be accepted amongst the Death Eaters, and while he needed lessons in his human frailty, no one, not even a Malfoy deserved to get them like this. He sighed audibly.

"Severus?"

He heard Allosia's voice behind him, gentle. He turned and looked at her, naked and clearly cold, and smiled. "Hi there."

"What are you doing?"

"Thinking."

"Come back to bed?"

"In a moment, 'Sia."

"Your brain works just as well in here," her voice retreating, back towards the alcove.

"Unfortunately," he muttered, getting up and following her.



The morning was slightly less awkward this time. He still got up first, and went to work at his desk, but he smiled when he heard the bathroom door open and close and the bath water start to run. Making herself right at home she was. He thinned his lips at her in amusement when she came out wrapped in his black kimono.

"Have you been?" she asked trying to gesture at the thing she was wearing.

"The Far East has some rather compelling magical knowledge, especially in the realm of potions. I've spent some time studying there over the years, yes."

She nodded, still sleepy, her hair still dripping water into her face. Snape noticed this and pointed his wand at her, drying it instantly. She looked at him strangely as he replaced the wand on his desk. "My carpet," he said simply, as if it were obvious.

She apologized and he waved his hand as if to indicate it was inconsequential.

"What's on your agenda today."

"Grading."

"Ah, well it's good to know you'll be as miserable as me,' he said lightly.

"Most people would not believe that's possible."

"Indeed," he said glancing down at the student documents before him.

Allosia gave him a sympathetic smile before turning to find her clothes and take her leave.

When she was gone, Snape took a long moment to walk around his apartments, observing the small evidences of her presence. His damn kimono on the bed (which he promptly dried and returned to the bathroom), the rumpled sheets, the pillow that had made it to the floor, the shower damp from someone other than himself. It was a strange feeling, such details were usually the end of people to him, not the beginnings.

He had almost invited her to bring her work down here, so they could share the misery. It was a nice image, but he knew it was from a small, comfortable place they had yet to visit.