Sorry for the late update. As I explained in the last chapter, I had exams :( they were very tedious, but now I have about two weeks off! yay! In good news I received an academic scholarship that made me feel better about all the damned effort !

This week continues with the Snape's house slumber party :D I'm having way too much fun with it, haha. I hope you enjoooy. I've already written over half of the next chapter, so expect that sooon.

Thanks for reading and commenting. I appreciate the support and am glad I get to share this story with you all. Stay safe and healthy!

Snape gave Penny a room at the far end of the upstairs. From what she could work out, his room was on the opposite and nearest the stairs, but she'd never seen inside. Snape came and went frequently in the evenings, though he never made any mention of where he was going. Penny tried hard not to imagine him in a Death Eater's mask, but the thought pricked at the back of her mind every time she watched his black cloak billow behind him as he departed.

Part of Penny also worried there could come a day where that cloak would depart and not return. It was hard sometimes for Penny to accept that Snape lived in a pocket so near the person who took so much from her. She did not want Voldemort to take Snape too, did not want to think of Snape bowing to Voldemort and calling him Lord. But voicing these feelings was pointless, and broached on a topic Penny was sure Snape would not openly discuss with her. So, she tried very hard to bury the feelings, not wanting him to read them on her.

It was easier said than done, Snape never missed anything, a product of always being on alert for the misdeeds of guilty students. He made the point of bidding her farewell when he was leaving, watching her closely from the doorway of the small living space upstairs (where Penny could usually be found in the evenings because she was still averse to sleeping.)

Penny would have liked very much if her heart didn't pound in her chest and her startle reflexes not jolt her every time he uttered his goodbyes, but they betrayed her every time. Unnaturally wide green eyes would move instinctively to the dark ones, watching him, her mouth half open, feeling very much as though she should say it back, but the words were too painful and she could not dislodge them from her chest, so she'd merely nod. And then he'd be gone, like a puff of smoke, there one moment, dispersed into the universe the next.

The quiet evenings were hard for Penny. She'd become reliant on the sounds of Snape to comfort her. When he was absent she could not distract herself by observing him or arguing with him. She was left to her own thoughts, which always drifted dangerously close to Cedric. Snape seemed to ascertain as much, probably by the fact he always found her resisting sleep when he returned in the early hours of the morning. One evening before leaving he brought her a large stack of books from his bookcases downstairs and left them for her to read. As was to be expected, Penny found numerous challenging academic works in the fields of potions and even some on the dark arts. Snape was correct in thinking Penny would not be able to keep her hands off of them, but some nights such challenging reads were not what she wanted. That's when she discovered the particular additions to the pile and titles she never would have believed Snape would offer her much-less own it himself. Penny found Peter Pan, A Room of One's Own and the Tales of Beedle the Bard hiding at the bottom of her pile.

Penny started with Peter Pan, having never seen or read the story before. Seeing as the Dursley hated anything to do with magic, they'd absolutely banned Peter Pan from their house, so Penny was intrigued. At first, she figured Snape just randomly threw the novel in to provide some variety, but the further she got into the book, the more suspicious she became that he'd done it on purpose. And then the night came when her tired eyes would scan over the first set of words that would reach into Penny's chest and squeeze her heart.

"Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting ."

Penny slammed the book shut and sprang to her feet and moved to the door. The house was dark, except for a few dim lights, but Penny did not care. She was more afraid of the feeling in her chest than what hid in the recesses of Snape's house. Groping blindly, Penny found the light in the kitchen and flicked it on. Her eyes naturally traveled to her right, landing on the door that led to Snape's basement. For a moment, Penny swore she heard something whispering from behind it, but shook the thought out of her head.

Throwing open cupboard after cupboard, Penny searched for ingredients for the recipe she had in mind. Baking a three-tiered cake seemed like the best course of action to pull herself free from the cold rising in her chest. She decided each tier would be a different flavor. Penny liked baking because, like potions, exactness was necessary. Everything in a cake worked together in specific ways to produce different textures and consistencies. This meant that each flavor posed a different challenge to her recipe because she had to account for the difference in moisture present in strawberries, but needed more moisture for her vanilla tier.

Penny was piping small stars on the cake when she heard the front door creak open. Reality sinking in, she tried to quickly pat the flour from her hair only to realize she had done no cleaning between working. She'd been so preoccupied with the action of baking, she'd neglected to put any of her ingredients away. Flour was strewn over every surface in the kitchen and dirty utensils laid like easter eggs in various locations.

If Snape saw the mess, there was no doubt in Penny's mind he would cut her into pieces with the dullest knife he owned. Penny sprinted across the room and flicked the light off and bounded through the door. She collided with Snape on the other side, her sticky hands leaving thick white hand prints on his immaculately pristine shirt.

He looked down on her with momentary confusion, but then his eyes narrowed on her the way they did at Hogwarts when he was about to give her detention.

"Fancy meeting you here, I was just getting a drink of water," Penny tried to say, casually, scratching the back of her nervously and stopping abruptly because she'd just coated her hair in whatever was so sticky on her hand.

"Were you?" Snape said, sounding thoroughly unconvinced.

"Y-yes! Hot nights, parched you know?" Penny, half laughed. "Well, I shut off the lights, so let's head to bed," she went on, trying to push her professor toward the staircase.

His solid form did not budge, but the vein in his temple throbbed several times as he looked down at the hands putting more filth on him.

"After I get some water, I'm parched ," he said, delicately..

"No! I'll bring it to you, you've had a hard day," Penny exclaimed.

"You," he said, looking over her with disgust, "will touch nothing," Snape said, and he pushed Penny, backing her through the kitchen door.

"Please, I don't want to be murdered!"

Penny tried desperately to wrestle Snape's hand away from the light switch, but the effort was futile. Light sprang from the bulbs in the middle of the room, illuminating what looked to be the aftermath of a tornado.

Still clinging to his arm, Penny froze in place watching the dark eyes take in the desecration of his kitchen.

"Tell me, Potter, if, even with your limited coordination, you worked out how to open the cupboards, how is it you still managed to leave every single one open?" Snape said, unable to control the snark in his tone.

"I didn't-" Penny started, but then she looked around and had to marvel at the fact that every single cupboard stood open, including the fridge and she hadn't even noticed.

Straightening herself up, she moved across the room and began slamming them all close.

"Potter, you imbecile, I said touch nothing! What were you doing in here, bathing in flour?"

"I was baking, alright. I'll clean it up!"

"And what possessed you to bake at one o'clock in the morning," Snape hissed.

"That damn book you gave me! If you're mad, you can blame yourself!" Penny said, rounding on Snape.

"What are you talking about," Snape seethed.

"Peter Pan! That wretched book. . .I had to get away from it, to distract myself. And you planted it there without giving me any warnings," Penny accused.

"It's a children's book! What could you have possibly found in it that warranted defiling my kitchen!"

"You're being ridiculous, you need to just sit down and calm down," Penny said, condescendingly.

"And where, pray tell, should I sit?" Snape demanded, his eyes flashing.

Confused, Penny glanced at the chair and saw what he meant. The one nearest him was collecting a pool of egg whites, dripping from the pile of egg shells on the table, while on the other chair was a pile of the dirty dishes Penny hadn't bothered to take to the sink.

"Alright, it's a bit messy, but like I said, that book you gave me was the cause. Just let me finish topping the cake-"

"The cause is you , you are chaotic and undisciplined!" Snape said through gritted teeth, grabbing the pile of dishes and taking them angrily to the sink.

"So my process isn't the same as yours! We all can't be unhinged control freaks like you. Try unbuttoning a bit, put your hands in some flour, you know!" Penny said, snatching the bag of flour Snape was reaching for.

Both their hands grasped it at the same moment, so Penny gave it a severe pull, assuming Snape would be pulling back. However, Snape didn't try to keep it from her, and the force of Penny's motion sent her flying backwards, the flour in hand. She landed hard on the ground, sending flour flying all over herself and every surface behind her. Coughing out copious amounts of flour, Penny wiped the white powder from herself, blinking.

Snape was motionless, his hand still outstretched for the flour. For a moment, Penny thought time had stopped, but then the dark shadow fell across his face, and Penny knew it was time to get as far from Snape as she could.

She scrambled backward, slipping on flour, sending it flying. Snape crossed the room, grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and dragged her behind him as he threw open the sliding glass door that led to the garden out back.

"You are a MENACE. Never in all my life have I ever had the misfortune of being forced into the company of one as incapable as you!" Snape raged, dropping her unkindly on the deck.

She watched him, illuminated by the light from the kitchen, his angular features terrifying in the night. He began to unbutton the arm of his shirt so he could roll it up.

"W-What're you doing," Penny stammered.

"Unbuttoning a bit," Snape said in a dangerous voice.

"Right. . . Well I'll just be going and leave you to it then," Penny said nervously, trying to get to her feet, but his foot pushed her back down.

"No, Potter, you're not going anywhere," Snape said, rolling the second sleeve. The gesture was ridiculously ominous, especially followed by his next command, "Stay," which he uttered in such a deadly calm that Penny did as she was told without protest.

"I-I didn't do it on purpose. I just wanted to forget I didn't say goodbye. . ." Penny trailed off, watching Snape disappear into the darkness.

Her heart thumped as she wondered what he intended to do to her. The sound of a weird screeching noise met Penny's ears, followed by something that reminded Penny of running water. His dark figure made its way back to her, looking down on her for a moment, as though waiting for something. Then, without warning, he raised his arm and a jet of freezing cold water blasted Penny in the face. She yelled, and scrambled away, Snape ensuring the water followed her and sprayed every portion of her body so she was thoroughly soaked.

"This is abuse!" Penny choked, trying to block the jet of water hitting her in the face with her hands.

"Abuse is what you did to the kitchen. This is something you're not familiar with, it's called cleaning up."

"I'm not a dog!"

"Could have fooled me," Snape said, coolly, finally setting the hose down.

"You could have just asked me to clean it up like a normal person," Penny spat, getting to her feet in a rage. "You don't always have to make it so obvious you're a Death Eater," she said in her anger, regretting the words as soon as they left her mouth.

"And what would you know of normal people , hmm?" Snape snapped. "Care to grieve like a normal person so you can stop being such a curse on my life?" he said with such vehemence, Penny took a step back.

A cool breeze skirted across the deck, sending Penny into shivers. She pulled her arms together in an attempt to warm up, but in the face of Snape's anger, there was no warmth to be found. A knife embedded somewhere deep in Penny's chest jerked sideways, sending sharp pains through her at his words.

Why did Snape of all people have to use the word 'curse'. While it was true, she was a curse on his life, to hear him say it felt unfair when she'd had no say in the way their lives were ensnared. Standing before his towering form reminded Penny just how pathetic she must look, shivering and cowering like a scolded dog, but she refused to let him make her stay like that, so she turned and made her way back to the house. His shoes squeaked after her, causing her to quicken her pace. Reaching for her magic, Penny willed every particle in the kitchen to begin righting itself, and by the time she entered the kitchen, everything was flying through the air.

"Potter!"

At his voice, Penny began to run, though she knew it was ridiculous. But she was afraid-afraid to face the man when her chest burned with humiliation..

"I'm going to bed!" Penny called, refusing to turn. The only thing she could do was move forward. She wanted the safety of her room, where she could hide behind a door, where the feelings in her chest were safe from his prying eyes.

"We're not finished," said Snape from behind her, too close behind her. The feeling of his words on her cold skin sent a prickle up her spine.

"You made yourself perfectly clear, there's nothing left to say," she said, leaping up the stairs.

Penny didn't belong anywhere. She was a nuisance, just as Snape said. Others were burdened to care for her because she was an orphan, Harry's tag along, with no place of her own. His words reminded her that she'd only ever felt like she belonged with Cedric. He'd been the first to speak of a future where her company was genuinely wanted, so unlike the one forced upon her and Snape, who was shackled to Penny against his will.

The truth was, Penny was guilty of forcing her presence on Snape, finding any reason to arrive at office hours. Perhaps that was the reason she worked so hard at potions. She wasn't smart and motivated like Hermione, maybe she was just desperate-desperate to escape always feeling alone in a crowd. For a time, Penny allowed herself to imagine that Snape liked her company, which allowed her to refuse to let the truth of his harsh words and attempts to dismiss her sink in.

In reality, Snape did not need Penny the way she needed him. He wasn't running away from anything. He had things he was meant to do. He was important, Dumbledore's greatest spy. Penny meanwhile, had never felt important. Not until Cedric. But now the only person who looked for her in a crowd was six feet in the ground. The hands that used to hold Penny and make her feel that, just maybe, the word wasn't so cold, rotting in a casket like the soul trapped within Penny.

"You misunderstood my meaning, Potter!" Snape said, grasping at her ankle, as she ascended.

Penny tripped, but continued her desperate climb away from him. She couldn't let him see her face-wouldn't let him. She just needed to reach the door. But Snape's hand gripped her ankle unrelentingly, pulling her toward him.

Drawing her arms up, Penny covered her head with her hands as though trying to protect herself from a blow to the head, like if she pressed herself hard enough she would melt into the floor beneath her.

"It is pointless to hide, I can hear all your thoughts, everyone in the neighborhood can," Snape said, sounding exasperated.

Humiliation tinged Penny's cheeks, but she said nothing, instead internally berating herself for such stupidity. She tried again to skitter away, but to no avail.

"Just let me show you how to close your mind, then you can return to your tantrum, if you wish," Snape said after a moment of struggling with her. Then he released her ankle and sat on the step, beside her.

Gently, he coaxed her onto her back, Penny, shutting her eyes tight and still trying to hide herself with her hands.

"Your eyes need to be open if you'd like this to work," he continued, tapping her forehead impatiently.

Slowly, and against her better judgement, she opened her eyes and peaked around her arms to find the dark eyes looking down at her. He was tired, the bags under his eyes betraying his exhaustion, but his eyes were intent and held Penny's with ferocity, She was entranced by them. Her chest rose and fell heavily, all her muscles tensed.

Snape reached up and slowly moved her hand away from her face. At first, Penny resisted, recoiling away from him, but the soothing wave of electricity that passed from him was clearer than any words he could have spoken-regret. So she let him guide her hand away so he could place two long fingers in the middle of her forehead, his gaze not wavering from hers for even a second.

"Imagine a wall springing into existence from beneath my fingers. You'll construct it with a single thought or memory, an important one that you can focus on and not become distracted from."

Penny nodded, her breathing shallow and feeling slightly lightheaded by the intensity of Snape's vibrations being shared with her.

"Just one," he said quietly, before he began muttering under his breath

At these words, Penny's mind beckoned forward the memory of a warm Spring's day at Hogwarts. The grass swayed around her, so real in her mind's eye, Penny felt she could even touch it.

A bird soared overhead and Penny turned, finding Cedric's dozing form beside her. He blinked, groggily, and smiled up at her through those pretty lashes of his.

"Lay down Penny, I want to nap in the grass with you," he said, pulling her into his arms.

"How do you do it, Cedric?" Penny asked.

"I close my eyes," he smirked, pulling her cheek near enough so he could kiss it.

"I meant shut your brain off," Penny said, trying to sound grumpy, but with Cedric's lips on her cheek, moving their way to her ear, she could accomplish no such thing.

"You think too much, Penny. Sometimes you just need to feel," he whispered in her ear. "Right now I could think about the third task, how unprepared I am, my NEWT's, or the pile of homework I have. But if I did, I'd lose what's right in front of me, so I don't."

"Useful," Penny breathed, his hot breath sending a glorious tingle up her spine. "Absolutely genius, 'just don't', he says."

"You cheeky little-" Cedric said, suddenly finding enough energy to roll on top of her.

"What can I say, your motivational speaking needs work," Penny laughed, her breath catching in her chest when Cedric reached out to clasp her jaw.

"I should punish you for that sass, but the lesson is more important," Cedric sighed, looking conflicted.

"Alright, Professor, you have my full attention," Penny grinned.

Cedric's eyes glittered with mischief as he looked down on his prisoner.

"Close your eyes."

Penny did as she was told, finding the act unusually exhilarating.

"You can do all the thinking you want; where I'll touch you first; what I'm looking at-but what does that tell you? You're still in the dark. Instead, just feel," Cedric whispered, a delicate finger touching her collarbone and stroking outward to her arm.

"You're just teasing me," Penny said, suppressing a shudder.

"Let go Penny and just feel my hand in yours, so you'll never forget," Cedric breathed, suddenly close to her face, his strong hand clasping hers. Penny's eyes snapped open and for a moment she did not know what she was looking at.

Cedric's eyes were there, so real before her, but at the same time dark pools and heavy brows were also looking at her. She focused, remembering how Snape instructed her to visualize a wall. His finger was still there on her forehead helping her to focus.

Penny did not know how much time had passed, but gradually, she became more acutely aware of reality-the warmth of the spring day she missed-receding away. In its place was Penny's shivering body, and Snape's firm one close to her.

"You had 14 years of memories open to you and you chose that one?" Snape said with distaste.

"You saw all that?" Penny said, incredulously.

"I saw enough of it."

"So I wasn't able to shut my mind-"

"No. It's closed now, you just took your time reminiscing first," he said, stiffly.

"You could have-looked away," Penny said in irritation.

"I assure you, your thoughts do not excite me in the least. But alas, like everything else about you, they demand to be seen," Snape drawled.

"If I recall, I was trying to leave until you pulled me down the stairs like a serial killer," Penny replied, indignantly.

Snape rolled his eyes and got to his feet. He pulled out his wand and waved it lazily over her, drying her instantly, then he scooped her up into his arms and continued upstairs.

"What, so now you're chivalrous? If you think I'm going to let this go, you're dead wrong," Penny protested.

Snape ignored her, making his way through the dim hallway into the warm sitting room. Setting her on the comfy cushions he then reached for the blanket and laid it over her. Sliding off his shoes, he took his spot on the opposite side of the couch. He adopted the familiar, stiff sleeping position, his arms crossed, and his face creased with exhaustion. He closed his eyes, uncaring Penny was observing him.

She waited a few moments, uncertain if he was actually going to sleep. When he made no move, Penny spread out her blanket and slid, only as much as was necessary, toward Snape to toss some blanket over him. He gave no indication he noticed nor cared, so Penny laid her head back and looked up at the shadows cast by the dimming fire.

"Do you want me to go?" Penny asked, quietly.

"No," Snape replied, a tone of finality in his voice.

"Am. . .Am I a curse?"

"Yes. . .my curse. Now go to bed, Potter, or I may change my mind about the first question," he said in that gravelly tone she only ever heard when he was tired.

Penny rolled her eyes, but did not bother Snape again. She knew sleep would not take her; no, Penny was intent on trying to vividly relive the memory of Cedric again, wanting nothing more than to feel all that Cedric had wanted her to feel.