December 1976

Slytherin beat Ravenclaw in their second Quidditch game of the season, and the green common room was once more packed as the students celebrated their victory with food stolen from the kitchens and some spiked punch – courtesy of a seventh-year student.

It was way past curfew hours when Professor Slughorn entered the Slytherin Common Room and ordered everybody to bed, reminding them of the points they had already lost at the last party.

Once the students emptied the common room, the space was quickly taken over by house elves, who left it clean and organized, ready for another day of students messing it all up.

Florence was in her bed – having already showered and put on some comfortable pyjamas – staring at the bottom of the lake through the window by her bed.

She felt too excited to sleep, the awesome game and the long party afterwards had left her wide awake, so she decided to go back to the Common Room to see if she could find someone to talk to until sleep arrived.

She quietly walked out of the girls' dormitory and soon found someone in the common room – the best person she could find to help her relax to sleep: her boyfriend.

Severus was still awake, already in his sleeping clothes, hair tied in a low ponytail at the back of his neck; he was sitting on the floor by the fireplace with a book – Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts – on his lap and he seemed very absorbed by it, taking notes on some papers by his side.

Florence walked to him, sitting on the rug by his side, "Hey, Sev. Can't sleep either?" she said, kissing his neck, "Quite a party we had before, right?" she rubbed her shoulder on his, trying to get his attention.

"I wouldn't know," he said in a bored tone, never taking his eyes from the book, "I wasn't here. You know I don't really care about Quidditch."

Florence frowned, finding his whole demeanour strange; she looked at the pages he was reading and concluded he was studying the physical effects a dementor had on people when they were exposed to it for a long time. She had no idea why he was reading about that; they had already finished studying dementors three weeks ago.

"Well," she tried again to get him to take his eyes off the book, "If I had to choose, I'd much rather be alone with you than at any Quidditch party," she touched her nose to his neck.

But Severus still didn't move to touch her; his body tensing up instead of relaxing under her touches, and he had yet to look at her, his eyes fixed on the book that was now partially covered by her hair.

Florence sighed in frustration, "What's going on, Severus?"

"Nothing."

She glared at him, "If you don't tell me what's wrong, I can't help you."

"Nothing is wrong. And I don't need your help."

Florence stood up, angrily taking the book from his hands.

"Give it back!" Severus ordered, getting up from the floor as well.

"Tell me what the fuck is wrong with you and then I'll give your damn book back!"

"You're not the centre of the universe, Florence. Not everything has to be about you!" he shouted.

She stared at him in surprise, he had never spoken to her like that before. Something was clearly very very wrong with him.

"I have no idea why you think you can talk to me like that," she said, not raising her voice – a part of her recognizing in her own tone, for the first time, the same fear-inducing quality of father's voice, "You want to read by yourself, just say so. But I won't tolerate this kind of treatment," she looked at the book in her hand again, suddenly realizing something, "Only... you known that already, so maybe... you're trying to make me leave because this has something to do with You-know-who."

Severus didn't reply, he just stared at her, his silence all the confirmation she needed.

Florence's frown deepened and she opened the book on the page he'd been reading, pacing as she read it. Then she took his notes from the floor, putting the pieces together as she read a list of ingredients he had written and the possible order and means of cooking them.

"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, looking at him with worry, "This- you're giving them a weapon."

"It's just a Draught." He dismissively replied.

"This is torture in a vial, Severus!" she exclaimed, "People they give this to will experience the same things they would in the presence of a dementor only worse – from inside out!"

"I don't question them, Florence. I just brew what they ask me to."

She stared at him, it was her turn to be silent, he had just admitted to be working for her father.

"This is going to be my biggest chance so far, Flor," Severus continued, trying to make her understand, "If this Draught works as I am carefully calculating it to, I could even sell it to the government! Azkaban would no longer need to have dementors. All they would need is my Draught of Despair."

Florence shook her head slowly, realizing it was about money, again; he couldn't see the damage his draught was going to cause because they were blinding him with money.

"How long have you been brewing for them?" she asked.

"A couple of months," Severus didn't lie, "Can't you see this is a goldmine? The Death Eaters need potions just as much as the aurors do! I can be their supplier! And they pay handsomely."

Florence put his notes inside the book and walked to him, shoving it on his stomach, "If this is your future, there will be no place for me in your life after Hogwarts."

He hesitated, "Are you breaking up with me?" his heart nearly stopping as he waited for her answer.

"Not right now," Florence shook her head, "But if you are determined on working for them after finishing school, then our relationship has just got itself an expiration date."

Severus held the book and stared at her in silence.

"Do you understand me, Severus?" she continued, "If you choose them, there can't be an us."

He looked from her face to the flames in the fireplace, whispering: "Why can't I have both?"

"Because..." she closed her eyes briefly, knowing she couldn't tell him the truth, it was too risky, "Because I couldn't be by your side then. I've already told you about those people. Having money is not everything, Sev."

"Easy for you to say," he scoffed.

Florence crossed her arms as her irritation grew, "You know they kill people like Lily; and she's our friend! We both know there's nothing wrong with being muggleborn! Why would you want to help them?"

"They have money, power, influence! I'll be seventeen next month, not even out of Hogwarts yet, and they already pay me more for Blood-replenishing Draughts than any apothecary would be paid for a Truth Serum! Imagine once I'm a fully trained Potions Master! They will pay me triple then! The Lord is already very impressed by my abilities."

At the mention of her father, Florence considered that talk over, "I'll pretend we've never had this conversation," she said, turning to walk away from him.

But he held her arm, "Do you mean it? We will be over after Hogwarts?"

"It's up to you," she shrugged.

Severus looked into her eyes, wondering if he'd ever be able to be happy without her. He couldn't name more than a handful of happy moments in his life before he'd met her. Would there be any reason to even work for the Death Eaters if it weren't to provide for her and their future family? He threw his book onto the sofa and pulled her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her.

Florence felt her body betraying her anger. She wrapped her arms around his neck and they looked into each other's eyes for a moment. She got lost in his dark eyes, knowing it would be the hardest thing to walk away from him.

Severus tightened his arms around her and took two steps back, pulling her with him to the sofa. He sat there and Florence straddled his lap, pulling her to a heated passionate kiss, "I love you, Florence," his hands caressing her body.

"And I love you, Sev," she closed her eyes and touched her nose to his, "I want to be in your future," she whispered, looking into his eyes, "I want us to live in Hogsmeade, to have lots of babies..."

He could hear the unsaid 'But', which he decided to ignore, saying instead: "Hopefully they'll all look like you."

She chuckled, letting his hair go from the low ponytail, "I hope they have your hair, your dark eyes..." she ran her fingers through his long dark strands.

"My nose?" one eyebrow was raised.

"Well, not really," Florence chuckled, "They don't have to have your nose. But your wicked sense of humour is a charm; your intelligence," she kissed his lips softly, "I love everything about you, Severus," and again he could hear an unsaid 'But'.

"I love you, Flor," he replied, kissing her again.

Then she slowly got out of his lap, "Good night, Sev."

"'Night, Flor."

And she walked to her dormitory, her heart heavy, unable to stop thinking there had been no apologies from Severus, no promises of not working for the Death Eaters anymore.

She lay down on her bed and a few silent tears rolled down her face, wetting her pillow, until sleep finally claimed her.