July 13, 1976 — McGonagall Manor

Cassiopeia did not know how it had happened — how a single kiss had unlocked such licentiousness inside her. She could not get enough of Cailean: they met every day, spending the hours intertwined.

He was a wonderful teacher: kind but firm. Experienced, where she was completely ignorant; guiding, and overlooking her ungainliness, her mistakes.

It was the best opportunity she could have asked for — a chance to explore a newfound side of herself without the attachment: without worrying about emotions getting in the way, or what would happen in the future.

The days after their first unattended encounter they spent in a timeless haze, consumed only by each other and their bodies.

The anxiety was still there, of course — worries of inadequacy and of upsetting him, fears of his attending gaze as more of her skin was exposed.

But he though nothing of it; never judging, careful with her insecurity, but gently pushing at her boundaries. Eventually, she allowed him to see everything — the thick scar that crossed her side, the various marks that littered her skin: remnants of life with her father, reminders of her schoolmates' antagonism.

He maintained they did not upset him, and she never caught an expression of pity on his face. Instead, he treated them like any other part of her: touching his own skin to them, kissing without restraint.

She had marvelled when he'd first revealed his body, allowing her to trace it with her hands. While not overly built, his muscles were still defined, his body smooth and firm. And wanting — that had been clear to see.

Almost by instinct, she had fallen to her knees, hands coming up to tug at the waistband of his undergarments, her body flushed with need. He had taken her enthusiasm in stride, guiding her through the experience as she first took him in her mouth.

Such occurrences and more grew to be almost commonplace — the expected repose after a difficult afternoon of study. It was a perfect arrangement for the two of them, and she honestly felt that the past few days had been one of the happiest, and least stressful than she had ever experienced.

"Mistress!"

Tully's enlivened tone immediately roused her from her thoughts, the creature giving her not a moment's notice before she grabbed her arm, and transported her to the garden outside, just before the manor's steps.

She swept her surroundings instantaneously, fearful that something was awfully wrong for the elf to so suddenly appear, before her eyes fell upon a familiar figure, and she rushed towards him.

Eileen hated him. Despised him. All because he'd had the nerve to bring up that perhaps — perhaps — she could leave her asshole of a husband. Her abusive, controlling husband, and save herself.

He curled his hands into his covers, his knuckles white as he gripped them tightly. Eileen had forbidden him from using his wand, and without a way to release it, his magic threatened to burst from him — riled by the flares of anger in his mind.

She feared retribution, she had explained, from the Ministry or from Tobias. How he would ever find out, Severus did not know, but it did not ease his anger that even with him gone — ostensibly a time to revert back to her natural self, to free her powers — Eileen still refused to use magic.

Only a year ago, she had taken any opportunity to do so, revelling in the reminder of her former life. Now, ever since he'd returned home, Severus had not seen her pick up her wand. Not once.

Their conversation over dinner that evening was stilted — an improvement from its near nonexistence over the past days. He could not celebrate this entirely, however, when Eileen finally spoke to him — meaningful words, instead of mindless talk to fill to silence.

"I love him, Severus. It is unthinkable that I would ever leave him. You do not understand — I can see that. Perhaps you never will. But do not — please — do not bring it up again. I will not change my mind."

The words were out of him mouth before he could think through them. "You're selfish."

He saw the hurt flash across her face, saw her recoil from the words.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that," he spoke quickly, meeting her gaze. She had done her best — protecting him from the worst of poverty, of Tobias' rage — his accusation was untrue. But was that enough?

"… No. Perhaps I am."

He did not know how to respond.

"I'm sorry, Severus," she said, and it was clear her answer had not changed.

He took a deep breath, standing from the table. "It might be for the best, I think, if we spent some time apart."

Her expression are defeated — sadness and exhaustion mixed into one, but she acquiesced. "If you're sure. With Cassiopeia?"

"Yes."

"She's good to you."

"I know."

"I really am sorry, Severus. I just — I can't. I can't."

"I understand." Did he?

As he packed his bags, he considered how Cassiopeia would react, if he turned up on her doorstep unannounced. He knew her to be a witch of her word, and she had asked him to come, but it was also the kind of thing people did, when they wanted to be nice and had nothing else to say.

He resigned himself to the possibility of a tense couple of days, and least he wouldn't be here, dreading every day. At least he wouldn't be with Eileen.

"Tully," he called, and the elf appeared moments later. He knew he should have expected it, but a sliver of doubt had still lurked in his mind. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Mister Severus," she chirped, watery-blue eyes wide and shining. "You is wanting something?"

Now tasked with articulating his need, Severus grew chagrined. "If you wouldn't mind — and if you think Cassiopeia wouldn't — could you take me to where she's staying?" he murmured, just resisting the urge to hide behind the curtain of his hair. It seemed like an awfully stupid thing to wish to escape from - incomparable in the slightest to Tobias' rage.

"Is everything alright with Mister Severus and Miss Eileen?"

"Yes, everything's alright," he moved to reassure her. "You know... forget I even asked. Everything's fine, there's no reason for me to leave."

"Tully is not believing that. Is you is wanting to see Mistress?"

Thinking it easier than attempting to explain the entire situation to the elf, Severus gave a single nod. He just couldn't — couldn't understand her choice. And until he could, he knew the relationship between Eileen and him would remain frayed.

She loved Tobias — how, he had little idea — but, alright. And yet, remaining with him, would be like Cassiopeia deciding to stay with her father. Unthinkable.

"Tully is knowing it!" she exclaimed happily. "I is taking you to her right away."

"Tully — "

He had time to do little more than grab his bag as the house-elf whisked him away.

Even if he loved someone, he would leave them the moment they grew to torment him — to harm or even to insult. Right?

"Severus!" he heard Cassiopeia call out, but he couldn't focus on her — barely registered her arms coming around him, embracing him, her sweet scent.

"You're just a disgusting cheater, and she's a whore… I never want to see you again, Snivellus."… He spent the entirety of breakfast pushing his food around his plate, and staring forlornly in Lily's direction. …"Stop lying. He said it was just a prank, that there was no chance of you getting hurt."…"I wanted to spend the evening with you lovely people — I had to get rid of her somehow."… His eyes were drawn to her, always noticing, always seeking her out.

Severus froze, horrified.

July 14, 1976 — McGonagall Manor

"Of course you can stay, Mister Snape."

What else could she say? She knew the boy well — had heard a little of his upbringing, and of his life at home. He would not have left if he hadn't needed to, and she had plenty of space in her own residence to welcome him in.

She could not imagine turning him away.

It was only the reaction she expected from him, when he realised of the developing relationship that Cassiopeia had cultivated, that left her… a little apprehensive.

"I'm sorry, Cailean. I don't think I can today."

Severus unintentionally listened to Cassiopeia's conversation as he unpacked in his temporary room, the sounds from the garden travelling easily through the open window.

He knew he should close it, but he was desperate to find out more about the wizard who's managed so quickly to become Cassiopeia's friend. In the few letters they had exchanged, he was mentioned throughout — always with heaps of praise, and glowing remarks — but it was difficult to imagine a true person out of only a list of characteristics.

"That's alright, don't worry yourself over it at all," came his reassurance, velvety and melodic. "Maybe in a few days once he's settled in? And feel free to invite him with us one day — there's no use sitting around inside when you've got the entire county to explore."

"You're certain?"

"Of course. It'll be good to get to know the man who you so glowingly speak of," he replied teasingly, and Cassiopeia laughed — the sound piercingly bright and clear.

"Thanks, Cal," she responded, the words a little muffled, and Severus heard a rustle of cloth, before Cailean spoke his parting words.

"I'll miss you."

"Miss you too."

A crack of apparition rent through the air, and then he was gone, leaving Severus… intrigued, as to just how much Cassiopeia wasn't telling him.

July 16, 1976 — Café de la Poste

When Cailean asked Cassiopeia to sit next to him, in the coffee shop they'd stopped by in, Severus gave no objection.

He had no right to such a thing, of course, but his curiosity overwhelmed even the jealousy that might have welled in him at the sight.

The first time Cailean's hand had lingered just a little too long on Cassiopeia's knee, Severus dismissed it as mere coincidence. How many times had the same thing happened to him?

When he tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, as she was drinking her coffee, and she flushed, he was certain there was something more to all of this.

But when they were leaving the store, and the older wizard's hand took its place at Cassiopeia's lower back, he knew.

Even if he had wanted to say something, however, he would get no opportunity to. As they crossed the street over, ready to return to Professor McGonagall's home, a hoarse, terrified voice yelled out:

"Hide!"

A series of cracks, louder than thunder, rang out all around them — each bringing with them a new body: clothed in black, and hidden behind a shining silver mask.

Cailean, springing into action, shoved the two of them into the nearest storefront, earsplitting screams breaking out around them, and rapidly seized a woman and child walking past, bringing them inside in one movement, before barricading the door.

They watched as the group descended on the shop they had just deserted, a series of bellowed curses leaving it a smouldering, crumbled ruin within a matter of seconds.

The child, no more than four, began to wail hysterically.

Struck with fear, the four of them attempted to quiet the girl, to no avail — the mother shaking and tearful, did little more than frighten her even more.

Severus, moved by instinct more than rationale, took out his wand, casting a disillusionment and silencing spell over their group in a single move. Cailean, who at first had moved to stop him, accepted the action with a nod — watching, carefully, as the Death Eaters prowled the streets around them.

"What was that?" the Muggle asked, when there was a lull in her daughter's cries. It was clear she had made the connection between the spells that had razed the building, and the ones Severus had cast.

"It's nothing to worry about, Madam," Cailean calmed her, his gaze never leaving the window.

A few moments later, the same series of cracks rang out, one-by-one taking the Death Eaters from the scene. When the last had seemingly gone, the entire town seemed to take its first breath, and what had once been a petrified stillness became a cacophony of shouts and cries, and pounding feet as the Muggles ran to the levelled building.

"I have to help them," Cailean spoke quickly, and he was gone in moments, his wand discretely hidden in his sleeve.

Meeting each other's eyes, Severus and Cassiopeia made a split-second decision.

"Stay here, please," Cassiopeia said quietly to the woman, as Severus ran out to help. "It's not safe yet out there. We'll come back for you, okay?"

When she had confirmed the duo would be safe, she joined him, just as Cailean's revealing spell lit up.

"There's someone alive!" he yelled, and the people who'd previously been standing at the sides, watching his efforts apprehensively, swarmed upon the rubble, moving it away as best as they could.

"It's not enough," Cailean muttered, grimacing as he fought to pull away the stones. Discreetly, Severus cast a Feather-light charm on the area around him, and in moments they could move away the worst of it, suddenly happening upon the first body.

Cailean sucked in a breath, wrenching the the woman's limp legs from underneath the stone, and Cassiopeia immediately moved to cast a stasis charm on her body, before bringing her away from the scene, and gently laying her on the ground.

Severus could see Cailean struggling not to tell her not to bother — that she was already dead — but he did not, instead taking the opportunity of the crowd's focus being directed elsewhere to lift a massive pile of the debris.

For fifteen minutes more, they cleared away the worst of it, searching out the survivors. The first had been a man, just a few feet from the woman, who — though badly pierced, was still clinging to life.

Right next to him also, protected from the worst of it by his body, were two children: unconscious, their skin pooling with blood.

At that moment, the Muggle ambulance arrived, the scene swarming with paramedics: taking the three survivors, urging them away from the scene. While Cailean attempted to convince them to allow him to stay, Severus stole away, disillusioning himself and running to the ambulance, who was just loading the man up. Working quickly, not caring to conceal his magic, he cast a stasis him, and managed to seal the largest wound — attempting to prevent the worst of loss of blood — before the door was shut and the vehicle drove off, sirens blaring.

Walking back to the scene, Severus went to Cailean and Cassiopeia, who looked similarly grim, their hands linked. "There's no use for us searching anymore."

•••

My apologies for not updating last week. A family member passed away, and I had neither the time nor the emotional state to write. I'm feeling much better now, however, so there should be no more issues moving forward. I hope you have a happy and peaceful week, everyone.