Millicent considered it her greatest failed seduction to date. Let's face it: Professors are not easy to seduce. They usually have that pesky little thing called morals. Curse morals to hell, thinks Millicent.
She has tried a number of things in order to win the mysterious Ancient Runes professor's heart. These include and are not limited to: actually attending class every day, doing homework on time and doing it impeccably, being nice, bringing him herbs for his headaches, anonymous love letters, admitting to said letters, convincing a younger student to spread rumours about another professor who clearly had a crush on him, and getting drunk with him.
So far these have all proved amazingly unsuccessful. Millicent is young enough (almost 17 now, thank you very much) to have not quite learned that sometimes when you don't try, that's when it happens. When you are at your worst, your absolute lowest. That is when it's the most plausible, sometimes.
Colm Phalanges, the Ancient Runes professor, has been elected to tell Millicent the news. He's not the head of her house, and that's who should be telling her, but Severus Snape is not exactly delicate. He's also not a friend, not like Colm. The faculty all silently agree that it should be him. For once they leave off the derogatory comments, the questioning glances and the rumours spread behind his back.
It is the middle of the night. After Christmas but before the new year. Not an easy time. He walks as slowly as possible from his office to the Slytherin common room, but it's not far. It's impossible to stretch 30 feet into 300, even when you close your eyes and wish as hard as you can.
He says the password and enters the common room. There is no one up, almost everyone is at home for the holidays. He goes over the directions once more in his head, even though he can remember perfectly from when he was a student here. He climbs the staircase and enters her dorm. Under any other circumstance, this would feel wrong.
She is the only one there. The only sixth-year Slytherin left during the holidays. He wonders if she'll want to go home now, even though he knows the answer will be no. He attempts awkwardly to knock on the curtain around her bed, his knuckles sliding off the cloth. He instead attempts to wake her by clearing his throat. That also proves not to do the trick, so he slowly parts the curtains.
She is asleep, clearly. Her dark hair is splayed around her head like a black halo. She looks so innocent when she sleeps. She truly is beautiful, no matter what the other students may say about her. He knows that it's not true.
"Millicent," he calls softly. Louder. Even louder still.
Her eyes open slowly and blink twice. She must be dreaming. Here he is, the One, and it is 3 in the morning. She starts to grin but then she notices that he looks incredibly sad. She has never seen him look like that before.
"Professor? Is everything ok?" she asks timidly, sitting up and bringing her knees up to her chin. He sits down on the edge of her bed, heart pounding.
"No, it's not, Millicent. I'm sorry to be the one who has to tell you this. It's…your father. He was captured tonite. They killed him," he forces himself to look straight into her eyes. Her eyes are so much like coal. But who would have known that coal could express so much emotion?
She stares at him, disbelieving. Then she notices that he is crying. A man crying is one of the most powerful things you could ever experience, Millicent believes. A man crying always makes her cry. So she does, freely and without shame.
He moves up the bed to hold her in his arms. She is shuddering against him, her sobs racking her entire body. She stops long enough to proclaim, "I always hated him."
He strokes her back. "I know you did." He requires no explanation. He understands the intricacies of death, of grief and its many facets.
They sit there, frozen in time for almost an hour. When she leans back against the wall, he wipes the tears from her face. "You should try to get some sleep."
"I won't be able to. I know it," she protests. "What if I stayed with you?" he inquires shyly.
She consents and he climbs into bed beside her, all inhibitions shed for the evening when she really needed someone. He wraps his arms around her and holds her close, stroking her hair. She cries against his chest and he murmurs in her ear. He doesn't know what he's saying at first. Nothing really, just random syllables meant to sooth her. Eventually they take another form. He is whispering, "You are beautiful" in her ear.
When he realizes what he is saying, he also realizes that he means it. That's the first time he ever realized how he felt. He didn't know that he was capable of feeling like that again. Especially with one of his students. He held her all nite and told her that she was beautiful.
When Millicent woke up in the morning, she realized that it hadn't been a dream. His arms were still around her. Her hair was damp with sweat and kisses, and she realized what a fool she had been. He was here, when it mattered the most. None of the other things mattered. The trips he went on with the other professors, his total non-commitment to the way that he had to have known she felt.
She had been a fool, but she was a lucky one. She hadn't gone so far as to alienate him. He was still here.
And lying there, holding each other, Colm pledged that he would always be there.
Millicent is young enough (almost 17 now, thank you very much) to have believed him.
She has tried a number of things in order to win the mysterious Ancient Runes professor's heart. These include and are not limited to: actually attending class every day, doing homework on time and doing it impeccably, being nice, bringing him herbs for his headaches, anonymous love letters, admitting to said letters, convincing a younger student to spread rumours about another professor who clearly had a crush on him, and getting drunk with him.
So far these have all proved amazingly unsuccessful. Millicent is young enough (almost 17 now, thank you very much) to have not quite learned that sometimes when you don't try, that's when it happens. When you are at your worst, your absolute lowest. That is when it's the most plausible, sometimes.
Colm Phalanges, the Ancient Runes professor, has been elected to tell Millicent the news. He's not the head of her house, and that's who should be telling her, but Severus Snape is not exactly delicate. He's also not a friend, not like Colm. The faculty all silently agree that it should be him. For once they leave off the derogatory comments, the questioning glances and the rumours spread behind his back.
It is the middle of the night. After Christmas but before the new year. Not an easy time. He walks as slowly as possible from his office to the Slytherin common room, but it's not far. It's impossible to stretch 30 feet into 300, even when you close your eyes and wish as hard as you can.
He says the password and enters the common room. There is no one up, almost everyone is at home for the holidays. He goes over the directions once more in his head, even though he can remember perfectly from when he was a student here. He climbs the staircase and enters her dorm. Under any other circumstance, this would feel wrong.
She is the only one there. The only sixth-year Slytherin left during the holidays. He wonders if she'll want to go home now, even though he knows the answer will be no. He attempts awkwardly to knock on the curtain around her bed, his knuckles sliding off the cloth. He instead attempts to wake her by clearing his throat. That also proves not to do the trick, so he slowly parts the curtains.
She is asleep, clearly. Her dark hair is splayed around her head like a black halo. She looks so innocent when she sleeps. She truly is beautiful, no matter what the other students may say about her. He knows that it's not true.
"Millicent," he calls softly. Louder. Even louder still.
Her eyes open slowly and blink twice. She must be dreaming. Here he is, the One, and it is 3 in the morning. She starts to grin but then she notices that he looks incredibly sad. She has never seen him look like that before.
"Professor? Is everything ok?" she asks timidly, sitting up and bringing her knees up to her chin. He sits down on the edge of her bed, heart pounding.
"No, it's not, Millicent. I'm sorry to be the one who has to tell you this. It's…your father. He was captured tonite. They killed him," he forces himself to look straight into her eyes. Her eyes are so much like coal. But who would have known that coal could express so much emotion?
She stares at him, disbelieving. Then she notices that he is crying. A man crying is one of the most powerful things you could ever experience, Millicent believes. A man crying always makes her cry. So she does, freely and without shame.
He moves up the bed to hold her in his arms. She is shuddering against him, her sobs racking her entire body. She stops long enough to proclaim, "I always hated him."
He strokes her back. "I know you did." He requires no explanation. He understands the intricacies of death, of grief and its many facets.
They sit there, frozen in time for almost an hour. When she leans back against the wall, he wipes the tears from her face. "You should try to get some sleep."
"I won't be able to. I know it," she protests. "What if I stayed with you?" he inquires shyly.
She consents and he climbs into bed beside her, all inhibitions shed for the evening when she really needed someone. He wraps his arms around her and holds her close, stroking her hair. She cries against his chest and he murmurs in her ear. He doesn't know what he's saying at first. Nothing really, just random syllables meant to sooth her. Eventually they take another form. He is whispering, "You are beautiful" in her ear.
When he realizes what he is saying, he also realizes that he means it. That's the first time he ever realized how he felt. He didn't know that he was capable of feeling like that again. Especially with one of his students. He held her all nite and told her that she was beautiful.
When Millicent woke up in the morning, she realized that it hadn't been a dream. His arms were still around her. Her hair was damp with sweat and kisses, and she realized what a fool she had been. He was here, when it mattered the most. None of the other things mattered. The trips he went on with the other professors, his total non-commitment to the way that he had to have known she felt.
She had been a fool, but she was a lucky one. She hadn't gone so far as to alienate him. He was still here.
And lying there, holding each other, Colm pledged that he would always be there.
Millicent is young enough (almost 17 now, thank you very much) to have believed him.