WARNING: This story is rated R (just to be safe) for language and sexual
content.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other Potterverse characters. They are owned by JK Rowling.
DeAndry Harris, along with the story, though, are mine. Read but do not hurt.
Timeline: During POA
I'm sooooo sorry this took so long to get up. I ended up getting pneumonia, and was out for a while, then I got that stupid Microsoft worm, and then I was just very busy. So sorry again.
Yeah, enough of that mumbo jumbo crap, I hope you like! And please review!!!
* * *
"Hey English!" It was George. Or Fred. Either way, DeAndry ignored the pounding on her dormitory door and threw her blanket over her head.
"DeAndry!" She grumbled, that was Wood. She could ignore the twins all morning, they would have done the same to her, but not Wood.
She always had a soft spot for Oliver Wood. From the first moment he was sorted into the Gryffindor House and chose, of all places, to sit next to her. From that point on they had an unspoken arraignment. Best friends.
Sighing, she climbed out of bed, not even bothering to throw anything over her nightgown. It wasn't like any of the three of them hadn't seen her in less.
Modestly was never her strong suit. She had to smile at that thought.
"What?" she asked pulling the door open, the smile still gracing her lips. The three boys stood practically on top of each other in the doorway.
"Can we come in?" Wood asked as the twins pushed their way past their Quidditch captain.
"Mi casa es su casa," she said moving to one side so Wood could get past.
"You know," George started.
"The offer to come with us is still open," Fred finished.
George plopped onto DeAndry's bed. "Mum would love to see you again."
DeAndry laughed. "As much fun as it would be to see you guys with the home court advantage ... because, the entertainment value of that alone would be awe inspiring, I just don't think I could put up with a whole break with Percy."
Both George and Fred laughed. "That's exactly what Ron said," they said in unison.
"Yeah." DeAndry siged. "But this is my last year here, and I would really just like to sped break in the castle, without having to go to class, or do homework."
"It's not as if you do homework anyway," Wood said under his breath.
"I heard that," DeAndry laughed. And the next moment, Wood found himself on the ground, tackled by the Gryffindor girl.
Laughter burst throughout the room.
"The Gryffindor Keeper was just tackled by a girl," George said and he looked down at Wood and DeAndry.
She was sitting on his stomach still laughing. Wood sat up and attacked her sides, tickling her. DeAndry sputtered, laughing harder.
"Anyone else who's not staying for break had better hurry up!" Percy's voice floated up into DeAndry's dorm room.
The laughter finally ceased as they all realized it was time to say good- bye.
"Alright, English," Fred said standing, "we'll write once we get home."
"Ok," DeAndry said getting off of Wood. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas!" the twins called as bolted out of the room in time to make sure Percy knew they were breaking rules by being in a girl's dormitory.
Wood stood, suddenly uncomfortable. "All right. Well, I guess I should get going." He stood awkwardly trying to decided how to say goodbye.
But DeAndry got to it first. She pulled him into a hug. "Merry Christmas," she whispered. "And when you get back, we'll start spending more time together."
He pulled away from her embrace with a grin on his face. "Promise?"
"Promise. Now you better get out of here," she said pushing him playfully, "would want you to miss the train."
"Merry Christmas," he called behind him as he ran out the door, leaving DeAndry alone once more.
*****
After lunch that afternoon, Professor Snape caught DeAndry before she made her way back to the Gryffindor Tower. He was rather short with her, as he explained that she was to go directly down to his dungeons to being the project that the Headmaster had so graciously bestowed on them.
Unfortunately, both the Headmaster and the Potions Professor were closed lipped as to what exactly the project entailed. But DeAndry didn't pursue it. She trusted Dumbledore. So DeAndry started off her first day of vacation cooped up in the Potions classroom.
After finally finishing the tedious work of cleaning every cauldron, beaker, and ladle they were going to use, DeAndry sighed. The only job after that, which Snape had left her with was watching a potion boil and tell him if it turned green. She was getting stir crazy, and the fact that Snape had refused to speak to her, except to give her instructions and yell at her once for almost dropping a jar full of black beetle eyes, didn't help. He was ignoring her at his desk, mixing something.
On the desk next to the cauldron, there was a fine dusting of powdered graphorn. She ran her finger through it, and spelled out her name. She sighed blowing the grains off of her finger and watched them slowly make their way back to the desk.
"Hmmm," she said aloud.
Snape looked up at the small sound she had made, and when she closed her eyes he was suddenly intrigued. She held her hand out over the powder on her desk and her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
Cocking his head to one side, he watched as the powdered graphorn suddenly began to twitch, without the use of her wand, and finally come together in a slightly transparent cylinder about five inches tall. DeAndry smiled and finally opened her eyes. With a slight movement of her hand, the shape twisted and morphed until it finally formed two people, a witch and a wizard.
The two graphorn dust figures danceced, chased each other around the desk, and finally sat on the table. Suddenly there was a baby in the witch's arms.
DeAndry sighed and rested her head on her arm as she watched the figures.
Out of no where, her head shot up and caught Snape's gaze. The figures fell back into a pile of dust. "Who do you look more like? Your mother or your father?"
Snape said nothing; he just stared at her with a strange expression on his face. For a fleeting moment DeAndry wondered if anyone had ever asked him a question like that before. In the silence, a conversation with Dumbledore, years ago, came back to her. The only person Professor Snape every talks to, was the Headmaster himself.
"Neither, actually," Snape finally answered. DeAndry cocked her head surprised. She hadn't expected him to answer her. Snape stood from his desk and strode to a counter with ingredients on it, turning his back to her. "I look a lot like my grandfather, on my mother's side," he almost whispered under his breath.
"I'm sure he was very handsome," DeAndry said with a playful smirk.
Snape ignored her blatant attempt at flirting.
"What are your parents like?" she continued.
He turned around and stared at her straight on. "Dead."
DeAndry's head dropped. "Oh, I'm sorry." Her eyes flitted away from Snape, not wanting to meet his gaze, and fell on the forest green liquid in the cauldron. "Oh," DeAndry said sitting up. "It's green."
Snape gracefully made his way to the cauldron. Scooting back slightly, DeAndry allowed Snape access to the potion. She watched as his long fingers wrapped around the neck of a bottle from the desk without even looking. He carefully filled the bottle without spilling a drop.
"Now what do we do?" DeAndry asked after Snape put a stopper in the bottle.
"We wait."
"Wait," she repeated in a hushed tone. He finally looked down at her. Raising her head she met his look. He didn't pull his eyes away; he just stared down at her. Suddenly one breath was more labored than a hundred for DeAndry, and she felt her cheeks go warm.
"I don't think I have ever seen you blush before." There might have been a double meaning behind his words, but with his flat voice it just sounded like a simple observation.
"I usually don't blush in front of people."
"And I'm the exception?"
"You're the exception to a lot of things." Carefully she raised her arm to his face. "I've never seen you blush," she said barely touching his cheeks.
DeAndry jumped when his fingers dug into the inside of her arm, pulling her hand away from his face. "We can't continue this."
"Continue what?" she played dumb.
"This relationship." He threw her hand back at her.
She cocked an eyebrow and actually laughed. "What relationship? All we do is argue. I piss you off, you give me a detention or take away house points, I get revenge and then the whole thing starts over again. I think we're quite a ways away from picking out china patterns. I mean a couple of quick make out sessions ... amazing make out sessions," she added with a slight tip of the head, "doesn't constitute a relationship."
"You know what I mean."
She paused. Then her demeanor suddenly darkened. "Of course I do," she said standing. Snape watched her movements as she made her way to one of the counters. She leaned on it, her back toward him, and took a deep breath. "But even if we did stop the more obvious faux pas of our ... as you say 'relationship,' how much do you think our lives would change?" She turned to face him. "I would continue to piss you off, you would continue to get me in trouble, and I would continue to retaliate." He just stared at her with a blank expression. "Why take out the parts that we both seem to enjoy?"
"A physical relationship would never work. The consequences ... for both of us ..." his voice trailed off.
DeAndry sighed. She knew he was right. They could both get in trouble, but Snape's punishment would be far greater. "Fine," she finally agreed. "No more physical."
"Good," Snape said making his way back toward the cauldron.
DeAndry, jumped in front of him, taking his robes in her hands. "Then tell me more about you, your family," she said with an amused grin.
"No."
Her smiled faded. "No?"
"I think you should leave."
"What?"
"Leave," he spat through gritted teeth.
"God, what's your problem? Are you afraid that someone might see what you are ... and like it?"
He solidified his scowl, and turned away from her gaze. "Quite the opposite actually," he said under his breath.
DeAndry actually laughed. "Afraid someone might hate you for who you are," she said, her arms outstretched, spinning in place, "instead of who you want everyone to think you are?" She leaned forward, shoving her face in Snape's face. "Because if you haven't noticed, almost everyone already hates you."
There was a long moment, and Snape realized that she wasn't going to back down until he spoke. "You don't."
The smile immediately ran away from her face. "Is that what this is about? You don't want me to find out who you are, because you are afraid I might hate you? Severus, I know you care for me," she said his given name without even thinking.
That set him off. "You think you can come here and claim to know everything?!" he practically yelled.
"I don't know everything, but I know enough. Like you, I know about death and pain. We have things in common. I may be young, but I'm not blind. I can see what others can't. I can see you. And Heaven forbid, I like what I see. Damn it! Why is it so hard for you to believe? That someone could see you, really see you ..." her voice dropped to a whisper, "and still be attracted to you."
"You don't see all of me. You don't know every intimate detail of my life. You don't know me."
"But I want to," she said forcing him to look at her. "I want to know your depths."
Snape turned his back to her, his voice changing as he quoted something. "'People who comprehend a thing to its very depths rarely stay faithful to it forever. For they have brought its depths into the light of day-'"
"And in the depths there is always much that is unpleasant to see.' Nietzsche," she finished, the snideness seeping into her tone.
"How did you-?"
"Please," she growled through gritted teeth. "You're not the only one who's well read. Besides, you and I both know that's bullshit. You could give me everything, and I would still be attracted to you."
"Stop saying that," he growled, slamming his fist onto a desk.
"What? That I'm attracted to you? Well I'm not going to. Because I am."
"You're too young. You don't know what you want. You're not attracted to me."
"Yes. I am. Do you really think that little of yourself? That someone like me couldn't ever be attracted to someone like you?"
He opened his arms, leaving himself open. "What is there to be attracted to?"
"Are you kidding me? What is there not? You ... you are so smart, and talented. My gosh. Everyone can see it. When you do spells ... And ... and you're powerful. You above all should know the attraction of power."
He turned his back to DeAndry, no longer able to look at her. "Yes," he said sounding defeated as he grasped at his left arm. "But I also know the consequences of following after that power."
"You're right. There has to be more. Like heart. And loyalty. Like the loyalty you have for Dumbledore, and your students." DeAndry tilted her head, her eyes bearing into his back. Finally with a steady hand, she took a few steps toward him and touched his shoulder.
When he didn't move or say anything, she continued. "And passion." She grazed her fingers down his arm, wrapping her hand around his clenched fist. "There is so much passion in everything you do. The way you teach," her other hand snaked around his waist and she pressed her body against his back. "The way you make potions." Her body shook as she laughed slightingly. "Even the way you yell at your students."
Snape sighed as DeAndry's left hand found its way into the front of his robes. He could lie to himself forever, but he really did want this. He really did want her.
"And the way you touch me," she continued, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder blade. "You have more passion in a single kiss than in the entire being of anyone I have ever met."
Under her hands, she could feel his muscles relax.
"And I have never felt as much passion as when I kiss you." DeAndry smiled as she heard Snape's voice in her head. He had done it on purpose. He had let her read his thoughts.
She closed her eyes relishing in the feel of his body against hers. "Let me have this break."
"What?" He turned and faced her.
"Christmas break," she said taking a step away from him. "Let me have this break. Let me have you, the whole break. No complaints. And then, after it's over, we're over."
"Over?"
"No questions asked. Because you are right." She turned away from him. "We can't continue this."
Snape's weight shifted as he leaned toward her ear, and his hands rested on her hips. "Deal." His breath danced on the back of her neck. DeAndry moved slightly, and Snape's form swayed with her, pressing against her back.
"What's this?" she said with a smile in her voice.
"Hmmm?" it was a guttural sound, from deep within his throat.
"Where is my ass hole of a professor?"
"And where is my spoiled brat of a student?" His lips pressed against her neck, kissing her softly.
She smiled, then said absently, "It's almost time for dinner."
"How do you know?" he asked, laying another kiss on her jaw line.
Twisting her arm behind her back, DeAndry reached into Snape's breast pocket underneath his robes, and was pleased when his chest rose as he took a deep breath. "See," she said holding up the old pocket watch for Snape to see.
"You're right." His lips pressed against her flesh once more, catching the edge of her mouth.
"I thought you said no more physical." DeAndry rolled her head, exposing more of her neck to the explores of Snape's mouth.
"And I thought you said we have until after Christmas break."
DeAndry pulled away from him, but his hand lingered on her waist until she was too far to touch. She spoke again with her back to him. "We really do need to go to dinner."
"Yes we do," and hesitantly he moved, passing DeAndry.
"You are going to regret it later, not stopping this today."
"I know," he whispered, stopping with his hand on the door. "Dinner. I will go first. You have a reputation for being late." He pulled the door to the Potions room open. "And I do not."
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the other Potterverse characters. They are owned by JK Rowling.
DeAndry Harris, along with the story, though, are mine. Read but do not hurt.
Timeline: During POA
I'm sooooo sorry this took so long to get up. I ended up getting pneumonia, and was out for a while, then I got that stupid Microsoft worm, and then I was just very busy. So sorry again.
Yeah, enough of that mumbo jumbo crap, I hope you like! And please review!!!
* * *
"Hey English!" It was George. Or Fred. Either way, DeAndry ignored the pounding on her dormitory door and threw her blanket over her head.
"DeAndry!" She grumbled, that was Wood. She could ignore the twins all morning, they would have done the same to her, but not Wood.
She always had a soft spot for Oliver Wood. From the first moment he was sorted into the Gryffindor House and chose, of all places, to sit next to her. From that point on they had an unspoken arraignment. Best friends.
Sighing, she climbed out of bed, not even bothering to throw anything over her nightgown. It wasn't like any of the three of them hadn't seen her in less.
Modestly was never her strong suit. She had to smile at that thought.
"What?" she asked pulling the door open, the smile still gracing her lips. The three boys stood practically on top of each other in the doorway.
"Can we come in?" Wood asked as the twins pushed their way past their Quidditch captain.
"Mi casa es su casa," she said moving to one side so Wood could get past.
"You know," George started.
"The offer to come with us is still open," Fred finished.
George plopped onto DeAndry's bed. "Mum would love to see you again."
DeAndry laughed. "As much fun as it would be to see you guys with the home court advantage ... because, the entertainment value of that alone would be awe inspiring, I just don't think I could put up with a whole break with Percy."
Both George and Fred laughed. "That's exactly what Ron said," they said in unison.
"Yeah." DeAndry siged. "But this is my last year here, and I would really just like to sped break in the castle, without having to go to class, or do homework."
"It's not as if you do homework anyway," Wood said under his breath.
"I heard that," DeAndry laughed. And the next moment, Wood found himself on the ground, tackled by the Gryffindor girl.
Laughter burst throughout the room.
"The Gryffindor Keeper was just tackled by a girl," George said and he looked down at Wood and DeAndry.
She was sitting on his stomach still laughing. Wood sat up and attacked her sides, tickling her. DeAndry sputtered, laughing harder.
"Anyone else who's not staying for break had better hurry up!" Percy's voice floated up into DeAndry's dorm room.
The laughter finally ceased as they all realized it was time to say good- bye.
"Alright, English," Fred said standing, "we'll write once we get home."
"Ok," DeAndry said getting off of Wood. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas!" the twins called as bolted out of the room in time to make sure Percy knew they were breaking rules by being in a girl's dormitory.
Wood stood, suddenly uncomfortable. "All right. Well, I guess I should get going." He stood awkwardly trying to decided how to say goodbye.
But DeAndry got to it first. She pulled him into a hug. "Merry Christmas," she whispered. "And when you get back, we'll start spending more time together."
He pulled away from her embrace with a grin on his face. "Promise?"
"Promise. Now you better get out of here," she said pushing him playfully, "would want you to miss the train."
"Merry Christmas," he called behind him as he ran out the door, leaving DeAndry alone once more.
*****
After lunch that afternoon, Professor Snape caught DeAndry before she made her way back to the Gryffindor Tower. He was rather short with her, as he explained that she was to go directly down to his dungeons to being the project that the Headmaster had so graciously bestowed on them.
Unfortunately, both the Headmaster and the Potions Professor were closed lipped as to what exactly the project entailed. But DeAndry didn't pursue it. She trusted Dumbledore. So DeAndry started off her first day of vacation cooped up in the Potions classroom.
After finally finishing the tedious work of cleaning every cauldron, beaker, and ladle they were going to use, DeAndry sighed. The only job after that, which Snape had left her with was watching a potion boil and tell him if it turned green. She was getting stir crazy, and the fact that Snape had refused to speak to her, except to give her instructions and yell at her once for almost dropping a jar full of black beetle eyes, didn't help. He was ignoring her at his desk, mixing something.
On the desk next to the cauldron, there was a fine dusting of powdered graphorn. She ran her finger through it, and spelled out her name. She sighed blowing the grains off of her finger and watched them slowly make their way back to the desk.
"Hmmm," she said aloud.
Snape looked up at the small sound she had made, and when she closed her eyes he was suddenly intrigued. She held her hand out over the powder on her desk and her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
Cocking his head to one side, he watched as the powdered graphorn suddenly began to twitch, without the use of her wand, and finally come together in a slightly transparent cylinder about five inches tall. DeAndry smiled and finally opened her eyes. With a slight movement of her hand, the shape twisted and morphed until it finally formed two people, a witch and a wizard.
The two graphorn dust figures danceced, chased each other around the desk, and finally sat on the table. Suddenly there was a baby in the witch's arms.
DeAndry sighed and rested her head on her arm as she watched the figures.
Out of no where, her head shot up and caught Snape's gaze. The figures fell back into a pile of dust. "Who do you look more like? Your mother or your father?"
Snape said nothing; he just stared at her with a strange expression on his face. For a fleeting moment DeAndry wondered if anyone had ever asked him a question like that before. In the silence, a conversation with Dumbledore, years ago, came back to her. The only person Professor Snape every talks to, was the Headmaster himself.
"Neither, actually," Snape finally answered. DeAndry cocked her head surprised. She hadn't expected him to answer her. Snape stood from his desk and strode to a counter with ingredients on it, turning his back to her. "I look a lot like my grandfather, on my mother's side," he almost whispered under his breath.
"I'm sure he was very handsome," DeAndry said with a playful smirk.
Snape ignored her blatant attempt at flirting.
"What are your parents like?" she continued.
He turned around and stared at her straight on. "Dead."
DeAndry's head dropped. "Oh, I'm sorry." Her eyes flitted away from Snape, not wanting to meet his gaze, and fell on the forest green liquid in the cauldron. "Oh," DeAndry said sitting up. "It's green."
Snape gracefully made his way to the cauldron. Scooting back slightly, DeAndry allowed Snape access to the potion. She watched as his long fingers wrapped around the neck of a bottle from the desk without even looking. He carefully filled the bottle without spilling a drop.
"Now what do we do?" DeAndry asked after Snape put a stopper in the bottle.
"We wait."
"Wait," she repeated in a hushed tone. He finally looked down at her. Raising her head she met his look. He didn't pull his eyes away; he just stared down at her. Suddenly one breath was more labored than a hundred for DeAndry, and she felt her cheeks go warm.
"I don't think I have ever seen you blush before." There might have been a double meaning behind his words, but with his flat voice it just sounded like a simple observation.
"I usually don't blush in front of people."
"And I'm the exception?"
"You're the exception to a lot of things." Carefully she raised her arm to his face. "I've never seen you blush," she said barely touching his cheeks.
DeAndry jumped when his fingers dug into the inside of her arm, pulling her hand away from his face. "We can't continue this."
"Continue what?" she played dumb.
"This relationship." He threw her hand back at her.
She cocked an eyebrow and actually laughed. "What relationship? All we do is argue. I piss you off, you give me a detention or take away house points, I get revenge and then the whole thing starts over again. I think we're quite a ways away from picking out china patterns. I mean a couple of quick make out sessions ... amazing make out sessions," she added with a slight tip of the head, "doesn't constitute a relationship."
"You know what I mean."
She paused. Then her demeanor suddenly darkened. "Of course I do," she said standing. Snape watched her movements as she made her way to one of the counters. She leaned on it, her back toward him, and took a deep breath. "But even if we did stop the more obvious faux pas of our ... as you say 'relationship,' how much do you think our lives would change?" She turned to face him. "I would continue to piss you off, you would continue to get me in trouble, and I would continue to retaliate." He just stared at her with a blank expression. "Why take out the parts that we both seem to enjoy?"
"A physical relationship would never work. The consequences ... for both of us ..." his voice trailed off.
DeAndry sighed. She knew he was right. They could both get in trouble, but Snape's punishment would be far greater. "Fine," she finally agreed. "No more physical."
"Good," Snape said making his way back toward the cauldron.
DeAndry, jumped in front of him, taking his robes in her hands. "Then tell me more about you, your family," she said with an amused grin.
"No."
Her smiled faded. "No?"
"I think you should leave."
"What?"
"Leave," he spat through gritted teeth.
"God, what's your problem? Are you afraid that someone might see what you are ... and like it?"
He solidified his scowl, and turned away from her gaze. "Quite the opposite actually," he said under his breath.
DeAndry actually laughed. "Afraid someone might hate you for who you are," she said, her arms outstretched, spinning in place, "instead of who you want everyone to think you are?" She leaned forward, shoving her face in Snape's face. "Because if you haven't noticed, almost everyone already hates you."
There was a long moment, and Snape realized that she wasn't going to back down until he spoke. "You don't."
The smile immediately ran away from her face. "Is that what this is about? You don't want me to find out who you are, because you are afraid I might hate you? Severus, I know you care for me," she said his given name without even thinking.
That set him off. "You think you can come here and claim to know everything?!" he practically yelled.
"I don't know everything, but I know enough. Like you, I know about death and pain. We have things in common. I may be young, but I'm not blind. I can see what others can't. I can see you. And Heaven forbid, I like what I see. Damn it! Why is it so hard for you to believe? That someone could see you, really see you ..." her voice dropped to a whisper, "and still be attracted to you."
"You don't see all of me. You don't know every intimate detail of my life. You don't know me."
"But I want to," she said forcing him to look at her. "I want to know your depths."
Snape turned his back to her, his voice changing as he quoted something. "'People who comprehend a thing to its very depths rarely stay faithful to it forever. For they have brought its depths into the light of day-'"
"And in the depths there is always much that is unpleasant to see.' Nietzsche," she finished, the snideness seeping into her tone.
"How did you-?"
"Please," she growled through gritted teeth. "You're not the only one who's well read. Besides, you and I both know that's bullshit. You could give me everything, and I would still be attracted to you."
"Stop saying that," he growled, slamming his fist onto a desk.
"What? That I'm attracted to you? Well I'm not going to. Because I am."
"You're too young. You don't know what you want. You're not attracted to me."
"Yes. I am. Do you really think that little of yourself? That someone like me couldn't ever be attracted to someone like you?"
He opened his arms, leaving himself open. "What is there to be attracted to?"
"Are you kidding me? What is there not? You ... you are so smart, and talented. My gosh. Everyone can see it. When you do spells ... And ... and you're powerful. You above all should know the attraction of power."
He turned his back to DeAndry, no longer able to look at her. "Yes," he said sounding defeated as he grasped at his left arm. "But I also know the consequences of following after that power."
"You're right. There has to be more. Like heart. And loyalty. Like the loyalty you have for Dumbledore, and your students." DeAndry tilted her head, her eyes bearing into his back. Finally with a steady hand, she took a few steps toward him and touched his shoulder.
When he didn't move or say anything, she continued. "And passion." She grazed her fingers down his arm, wrapping her hand around his clenched fist. "There is so much passion in everything you do. The way you teach," her other hand snaked around his waist and she pressed her body against his back. "The way you make potions." Her body shook as she laughed slightingly. "Even the way you yell at your students."
Snape sighed as DeAndry's left hand found its way into the front of his robes. He could lie to himself forever, but he really did want this. He really did want her.
"And the way you touch me," she continued, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder blade. "You have more passion in a single kiss than in the entire being of anyone I have ever met."
Under her hands, she could feel his muscles relax.
"And I have never felt as much passion as when I kiss you." DeAndry smiled as she heard Snape's voice in her head. He had done it on purpose. He had let her read his thoughts.
She closed her eyes relishing in the feel of his body against hers. "Let me have this break."
"What?" He turned and faced her.
"Christmas break," she said taking a step away from him. "Let me have this break. Let me have you, the whole break. No complaints. And then, after it's over, we're over."
"Over?"
"No questions asked. Because you are right." She turned away from him. "We can't continue this."
Snape's weight shifted as he leaned toward her ear, and his hands rested on her hips. "Deal." His breath danced on the back of her neck. DeAndry moved slightly, and Snape's form swayed with her, pressing against her back.
"What's this?" she said with a smile in her voice.
"Hmmm?" it was a guttural sound, from deep within his throat.
"Where is my ass hole of a professor?"
"And where is my spoiled brat of a student?" His lips pressed against her neck, kissing her softly.
She smiled, then said absently, "It's almost time for dinner."
"How do you know?" he asked, laying another kiss on her jaw line.
Twisting her arm behind her back, DeAndry reached into Snape's breast pocket underneath his robes, and was pleased when his chest rose as he took a deep breath. "See," she said holding up the old pocket watch for Snape to see.
"You're right." His lips pressed against her flesh once more, catching the edge of her mouth.
"I thought you said no more physical." DeAndry rolled her head, exposing more of her neck to the explores of Snape's mouth.
"And I thought you said we have until after Christmas break."
DeAndry pulled away from him, but his hand lingered on her waist until she was too far to touch. She spoke again with her back to him. "We really do need to go to dinner."
"Yes we do," and hesitantly he moved, passing DeAndry.
"You are going to regret it later, not stopping this today."
"I know," he whispered, stopping with his hand on the door. "Dinner. I will go first. You have a reputation for being late." He pulled the door to the Potions room open. "And I do not."