Chapter 21: Happiness is a Warm Gun
He had never been one to believe in love at first sight, but the bare thought of calling the once "woman of his life" a filthy mudblood made his heart ache in agony.
He was Severus Snape, Hogwarts Potions Master, but when he was around Florence, he was no more than a little kitten… well, a little serpent.
Was he falling for her again? Was she going to drive him insane once more? He had a choice this time; he had to avoid her at any cost. Any kind of physical interaction would be the death of him, and he knew it. He had to spend as little time as possible with her alone; actually, he had to stay away from her completely.
So many things had happened over the past night… he just wanted to sleep now. He was too bloody tired and too bloody drowsy to resist. He needed to get about, to travel back home… but he couldn't: Harry's and Ginny's wedding was only 3 days away, and his departure would raise too many suspicions.
He hadn't seen, nor heard, Florence over the past two hours… Weasley wouldn't have hurt her, right? No, he couldn't, or could he? He couldn't get around the idea, though. Florence meant a lot to him regardless his present confusion.
He got up and walking slowly through the long, narrow corridors, he found himself in the gardens again.
"How strange"- He thought- "The lights in Room 542 are still on". And for a moment he thought that Florence might be there, but he had made a promise to himself. He was going to avoid her.
So slowly, but firmly, he walked into the kitchen, wondering about his destiny and where in the name of Merlin would Florence be at this time of night.
She, however, was blue in the face and laying unconsciously on the carpet under Room 542- the room she had created for only herself and Severus to see. He was her only hope.
---*---*---
George Weasley was pale at the moment.
"3:48"- He thought- "Where are you love?"
But even though he had asked himself that same question over and over again, Florence was nowhere near him at the moment. In fact, he had registered the house from the garden to the attic, and his former wife was nowhere to be found.
He was worried; yes, he was. "Where the hell could she be?"- He thought- "With Snape? With someone else, perhaps?"
It was weird for George to actually admit that he had insecurities again about his relationship with Florence. Why couldn't he trust her? It was strange, but 10 years, a wedding, a divorce, and thousand of shags weren't enough for George to trust her.
Make no mistake- he loved her. But every time a guy was interested in her… his blood started to boil with anger.
And now, his muscular body- the body so many women over Britain wanted to touch, and kiss, and lick- was lying in bed, stiff and still, waiting for his love to actually cross the door frame and scroll into bed.
But she didn't.
---*---*---
-Come on, Florence- Snape said out loud- come on… apparate soon-
But it was 6 in the morning now, and no one had apparate since he had stepped into the kitchen. He was starting to feel worried, and the bloody lights on Room 542 were still on.
"I ought to check if she is alright"- Snape thought.
At the time, he hadn't expected to find her lying unconscious on the floor. Her skin felt cold, and she was rather pale.
-God, Miss Pugliare, please wake up!- He said almost shouting. He took her weak body on his arms, and holding her tight, he pressed her against his chest, covering her with his black cloak to keep her warm- Please, Miss Pugliare, Florence- he said swallowing his pride- Open your eyes; breath.
But Florence was not reacting to that superficial kind of heat. She needed something warmer; the clothes covering his torso were in the way. So he took his black shirt off and covering both of them with his winter cloak, he carried her to the living room near the chimney.
-Please, Florence, please- He begged. And suddenly, as if a kiss would be the line between life and death, he pressed his lips against hers providing her everything in his being, from love to heat. He was sweating like a pig, but it didn't really matter as long as she was ok.
-Severus… what? What happened?- A very fragile Florence asked. She was still cold- though less than before- and pale in complexion.
-Nothing you need to worry about, Flor. You passed out; I assume I accidentally locked the door that lead to Room 542's exit. It was my fault, I am sure. I am very sorry…- He apologized, squeezing her a little harder. Florence was enjoying the moment; she wasn't going to complain about the sudden hug.
-Severus, I must tell you that it was not your fault, but mine. I must have made a mistake on the charm- She confessed, wrapping both her arms around his neck. Snape placed a kiss on the top of her curls, getting pleasure from every second.
-What the hell?- George Weasley asked. He was red with anger and he needed some explanations- Snape, why are you hugging my wife?- He asked, making a pause to breath. He accidentally caught a glimpse of Snape's chest only to discover his naked torso- and why on earth are you hugging her topless? -
-Mr Weasley, as much as I still care about Miss Pugliare, I completely understand your worries. She is your wife and not a child anymore, though. Do not worry; I came to her rescue by mare chance. I came downstairs for a cup of morning tea only to discover that someone may be locked in Room 542, as all the lights on that little shelter were on. I found her unconscious on the floor and the scene you, unfortunately, had just witnessed was no more than a simple aid technique I learnt over my years as a spy- He finished, helping Florence to stand up.
-Oh, George, hold me, please. I think I may faint again- She begged. She was not lying. She wasn't feeling at all fine.
-Mr Weasley, I am going to travel by Floo Powder to my dungeons. I have a potion that could make Miss Pugliare get over her sickness- He stated, and as soon the words had left his mouth, he was gone.
-Love, are you feeling fine?- George asked, with concern in his voice.
-Yes, Severus, I am fine. Thank you for everything you've done; I would not be alive if it wasn't for you- She replied. Poor Florence, she wasn't thinking straight. He was even more surprised when seconds later she had wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulling him nearer, she kissed him.
