Disclaimer:
All things not Allosia belong to JKR.
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Snape rolled over, wrapped his arm around Allosia, murmured to himself, and then noticed the sensation of skin against skin. He didn't remember taking his clothes off.
"'Sia," he said softly, but got no response. He said her name again, louder before remembering just what a solid sleeper she was and yanking her hair.
"What?" she asked. It came out annoyed, confused, and sleepy.
"Did you undress me?"
"Yeah. Go back to sleep."
"Why?"
"Because I'm tired."
"No, why did you undress me?"
"Because you'd have thrown a fit if I'd let you go to sleep in your robes."
"Wake me next time."
"Sorry. What are you doing?" she asked as he got out of the bed.
"I need water, badly," he said, making his way towards her bathroom.
"Oh," she said relaxing.
He chuckled. "Did you think I was leaving?"
"I don't know what I thought."
"Go back to sleep."
In the morning he declared he was skipping breakfast, and virtually ordered Allosia not to before taking the floo back to his rooms.
Allosia, for her part, noticed Dumbledore's very sharp gaze on her the moment she walked into the Hall. She considered herself mentally. How did she seem today, what did her body language say. Secretly, she worried she might seem too victorious. That just wouldn't be right, or fair to Snape.
"I trust Severus is alright," Dumbeldore said as she passed behind his chair.
"Yes, he's fine, just a touch of a headache," she said cheerfully.
'Merlin help Longbottom today," McGonogall mumbled to amused glances from both Dumbledore and Allosia.
Snape began each of his classes with his usual lecture. But instead of explaining to them why potions were a beautiful art they could never hope to truly comprehend or analyzing the particular unique nature of each class' foolishness, he explained to them in exacting detail their task for the day.
"Today's task, for each and every one of you, is to be as quiet, as possible," he said, dropping his volume with every word and taking a seat at his desk. Crossing his legs, and drumming his fingers silently on the tabletop, he continued. "That means, no frantic questions, NO exploding cauldrons, and no gratuitous attempts to suck up. Just do your work up to something resembling your usual pathetic standards without disturbing me and you'll get out of here without having detention for the rest of your lives. Are we clear? Just nod. Alright, there are your assignments then," and he waved his wand, making the required tasks become clear on the blackboard.
The only student who dared speak to him all day was Draco Malfoy, after class. He still looked tired, and as if all the skin on his body were suddenly too thin. "Sir," he had said, "you look like I felt this weekend."
Snape had smiled wanly at that. "That's what happy events do to people like us," he said.
Malfoy had just nodded then, and left. The boy was still a fool, and still quite evil, Snape suspected, but his new sadness gave him a weight he did not previously have. It would serve him well, on any path.
Allosia's classes fared better, although she had to resist the urge to give them a lecture in interrogation techniques, and decided to give them a little dueling practice instead. Chaos, especially from her students, and especially in the pursuit of knowledge always warmed her heart. Plus, watching first-years duel was always funny, because an eleven-year-old's concept of an attack was almost always deeply peculiar and generally centered on slugs or multi-coloured hair. The older students, while less entertaining, at least were doing something useful.
Snape did find his way to the day's other meals, mentioning his headache to everyone who so much as looked at him to the point that Allosia started to imagine it as a physical being preceeding him into the room. She asked if there was anything she could do, but he dramatically informed her that she would just have to wait to have any interaction with him until the malady had passed.
"I was not kidding when I told you I'd have a migraine for a week," he told her at lunch. By Thursday, she had decided to believe him.
And it was thus that Snape conspired to miss the Halloween celebration even though the ache in his head had receeded the day before.
All things not Allosia belong to JKR.
---------
Snape rolled over, wrapped his arm around Allosia, murmured to himself, and then noticed the sensation of skin against skin. He didn't remember taking his clothes off.
"'Sia," he said softly, but got no response. He said her name again, louder before remembering just what a solid sleeper she was and yanking her hair.
"What?" she asked. It came out annoyed, confused, and sleepy.
"Did you undress me?"
"Yeah. Go back to sleep."
"Why?"
"Because I'm tired."
"No, why did you undress me?"
"Because you'd have thrown a fit if I'd let you go to sleep in your robes."
"Wake me next time."
"Sorry. What are you doing?" she asked as he got out of the bed.
"I need water, badly," he said, making his way towards her bathroom.
"Oh," she said relaxing.
He chuckled. "Did you think I was leaving?"
"I don't know what I thought."
"Go back to sleep."
In the morning he declared he was skipping breakfast, and virtually ordered Allosia not to before taking the floo back to his rooms.
Allosia, for her part, noticed Dumbledore's very sharp gaze on her the moment she walked into the Hall. She considered herself mentally. How did she seem today, what did her body language say. Secretly, she worried she might seem too victorious. That just wouldn't be right, or fair to Snape.
"I trust Severus is alright," Dumbeldore said as she passed behind his chair.
"Yes, he's fine, just a touch of a headache," she said cheerfully.
'Merlin help Longbottom today," McGonogall mumbled to amused glances from both Dumbledore and Allosia.
Snape began each of his classes with his usual lecture. But instead of explaining to them why potions were a beautiful art they could never hope to truly comprehend or analyzing the particular unique nature of each class' foolishness, he explained to them in exacting detail their task for the day.
"Today's task, for each and every one of you, is to be as quiet, as possible," he said, dropping his volume with every word and taking a seat at his desk. Crossing his legs, and drumming his fingers silently on the tabletop, he continued. "That means, no frantic questions, NO exploding cauldrons, and no gratuitous attempts to suck up. Just do your work up to something resembling your usual pathetic standards without disturbing me and you'll get out of here without having detention for the rest of your lives. Are we clear? Just nod. Alright, there are your assignments then," and he waved his wand, making the required tasks become clear on the blackboard.
The only student who dared speak to him all day was Draco Malfoy, after class. He still looked tired, and as if all the skin on his body were suddenly too thin. "Sir," he had said, "you look like I felt this weekend."
Snape had smiled wanly at that. "That's what happy events do to people like us," he said.
Malfoy had just nodded then, and left. The boy was still a fool, and still quite evil, Snape suspected, but his new sadness gave him a weight he did not previously have. It would serve him well, on any path.
Allosia's classes fared better, although she had to resist the urge to give them a lecture in interrogation techniques, and decided to give them a little dueling practice instead. Chaos, especially from her students, and especially in the pursuit of knowledge always warmed her heart. Plus, watching first-years duel was always funny, because an eleven-year-old's concept of an attack was almost always deeply peculiar and generally centered on slugs or multi-coloured hair. The older students, while less entertaining, at least were doing something useful.
Snape did find his way to the day's other meals, mentioning his headache to everyone who so much as looked at him to the point that Allosia started to imagine it as a physical being preceeding him into the room. She asked if there was anything she could do, but he dramatically informed her that she would just have to wait to have any interaction with him until the malady had passed.
"I was not kidding when I told you I'd have a migraine for a week," he told her at lunch. By Thursday, she had decided to believe him.
And it was thus that Snape conspired to miss the Halloween celebration even though the ache in his head had receeded the day before.
