A/N: Rosie and Lysander are my own; everything else is JK Rowling's.
Chapter 2:
The days passed in a blur, in the blink of an eye it was October. Classes kept Rosie busy, and away from most social interaction. She joined the staff for lunch most days, but grading kept her from dinner and sleep kept her from breakfast. Teaching at night wasn't quite living up to what she had anticipated.
"So glad it's Saturday! Shake it off Rosie, you can sleep later!" Charity bubbled.
Charity had drug Rosie out to Hogsmeade to, according to her, chaperone the students on their first trip out, but Rosie had doubts about her friend's intentions. Patrolling a small village for wrongdoings just did not seem like a way anyone would choose to spend a Saturday, and be excited about it.
"This way!" Charity urged pulling Rosie by her arm towards a small pub called the Three Broomsticks.
They entered the small building hurriedly and Charity beamed at her as she gestured to sit at a small table in a back corner by the fireplace. A forest of red, yellow and orange leaves visible from the window.
"Oh my! Ly, what're you doing here?" Rosie hissed as the man seated at the table came into view.
Rosie forced a smile as the man stood up, wrapping his arms around her. Lysander Rothschild stood a towering six feet two inches, muscles bulging through the sleeves of his Wimbourne Wasps t-shirt. His blond hair shined even in the dimmest of rooms, contrasting perfectly with his tan skin, complimenting his round hazel eyes. His perfectly chiseled features were enough to make any woman swoon.
"Well, your friend here owled me, saying you had some free time. I couldn't say no to visiting," he cooed, kissing the top of her head.
"It's only a weekend…" Rosie mumbled into his shoulder.
"No matter, come on sit down. You too Charity, join us."
The three sat at the dingy table, ordering a round of butterbeer. Rosie's eyes darted nervously around the bar before staring longingly at the forest, only a thin pane of glass separating her from its welcoming fire of color.
"So, Lysander, what exactly is it you do?" Charity asked, wiping the foam from her upper lip.
"Well, I'm a Chaser on the Wimbourne Wasps, started right after I graduated," Lysander stated proudly, his chest puffing out slightly.
"You don't say! That's incredible. Are you the same age as Rosie here?"
"No, 2 years older, met her in my seventh year, been with her ever since."
"How lovely!"
Rosie smiled slightly as Lysander put his arm around her shoulders, breaking her stare, squeezing her as the two continued their small talk. She sat idly by, watching the seconds on the clock tick by, becoming more and more anxious by the minute. By the time five o'clock rang, she was at her wits end.
"All right, I really must be going," Rosie spat, getting up from the table quickly.
Lysander grabbed her wrist, "Whoa, sweetheart, what's the rush? I, we, just got here."
"I know, but, I have a lot of work to do and, I'm exhausted. Still adjusting to this night schedule, you know?
"All right, well, I'll come up with you."
Rosie opened her mouth to protest, but closed it, realizing no matter how she protested it was in vain.
"Oh, wonderful! I'll walk with you back to the castle!" Charity exclaimed jubilantly, downing the rest of her butterbeer and jumping from the table.
The trio meandered their way back to Hogwarts, Charity and Lysander chatting merrily. As they entered the castle an hour later, a familiar figure pushed by, knocking shoulders with Lysander.
"Hey! Snape! How've you been buddy?" Lysander greeted with a stinging sarcastic tone.
"Ah, Rothschild. Still relying on your brawn I see," Severus oozed smoothly.
"Yeah, Chaser for the Wasps. I see you still haven't grown into that nose, or washed your hair."
Severus scoffed, turning his gaze to Rosie, who gave him a pleading look. His eyebrows came together slightly as he studied her expression, before turning his gaze back to Lysander.
"I don't know why you're here, Rothschild, nor, do I care. However, if, I catch you doing anything, not permitted, I will escort you off the grounds myself."
His eyes bore into Rosie's once more before marching off, her eyes following him longingly.
"He's still a no good git I see," Lysander seethed, glaring after Severus.
"Ha, yes he can be! Well, my chambers are on the opposite end of the castle's from Rosie's, I hope to see you again soon Ly," Charity murmured sweetly before skipping off and leaving the two in the Entrance Hall.
"Well, are you going to show me to your chambers, or must I find them myself," Lysander breathed into her ear before kissing her jaw.
She led him up to the Astronomy tower, listening to him proudly recount all of the hazing he'd done during his time at Hogwarts. It disgusted her, he was nothing more than a bully, and the years on the Quidditch team seemed to heighten his need for social superiority.
"Well, here we are," Rosie huffed, opening her doors. The room was quaint, eccentric to a certain point. The walls were a deep navy blue, covered in star charts, all mapped by her own hand. She had numerous trinkets of astronomy, both from history and current times scattered throughout shelves spread about the walls. A small bookshelf sat beside an unpretentious writing desk; books of stars, lunar phasing and the planets sat amongst Muggle classics such as Wuthering Heights, Sense and Sensibility and volumes of Edgar Allen Poe, half finished star charts were skewed across the desk. A large canopy bed sat against the back wall shrouded in a shimmering gold curtain drooped lazily along the upper frame, a large window set between the two head posts. There was a small fireplace with a couch and small end table, and an armoire. Her favorite feature however, was the ceiling, bewitched to display the Milky Way galaxy in the night sky. She gazed up and smiled as stars twinkled, and shot across the room, the sky glowing blue and purple. She was so delighted when she'd arrived and found Dumbledore had produced this wondrous gift for her, she'd spent many nights just staring up at it's vast beauty when sleep evaded her.
"Well, it's a little weird, but it suits you I suppose," Lysander judged, gazing up at the ceiling, "How the hell are you supposed to fall asleep with that glaring in your face all night?
"I don't have a problem, but I'm sure I can find you other quarters for your night here if you find it unsuitable," Rosie replied, her voice thick with dissatisfaction.
"No, no, it's fine sweetheart. Now, let's put that bed to use eh?"
Rosie awoke that night in the early hours of the morning. Around one o'clock she guessed from the moon's placement in the sky. She unwound herself from the sheets, searching frantically for clothes to put on and to not disturb the sleeping man in her bed. She made her way over to the window beside her desk, stroking the barn owl perched in the window.
"Well Orion, whaddya say you and I take a little midnight adventure eh? Like old times," she cooed, stroking her faithful companion's head.
Orion perched himself on her arm and the pair crept out of the room, making their way to the top of the tower, where she could see a silhouette gazing up at the sky. She continued cautiously, wrapping her hand around her wand in the left pocket of her pants. As she got closer, she recognized a familiar stance. She relaxed and went to stand beside him.
"Good evening Professor, what brings you up here at this hour?" Rosie inquired quietly, as to not startle the man standing beside her, coaxing Orion off her arm to fly around the grounds.
"Lunar mapping, I need to restock supplies soon," Severus replied coolly.
"Oh! Well, if you ever need any help, I'd be happy to assist you."
"Thank you, Professor, but I think I can handle a simple task such as this."
"You can call me Rosie you know…"
"I'll keep it in mind."
They stood in silence for what seemed like hours atop the tower, stars glinting down at them, basking the pair in their winking light. The grounds were peaceful, almost intoxicating as the wind lightly rustled the leaves of the forest and the windows of Hagrid's hut glowed dimly in the distance. She felt at ease, with Orion perched on the wall beside her, Severus silently scratching methodically in his notebook on the opposite side. When the wind blew just right she could smell a faint fragrance of fire and damp earth, which she could only assume was from him; it was rich and inviting, confounding her senses.
"Good night Professor Petra," Severus muttered as he closed his notebook, breaking her from her trance.
"Oh, uh, good night, Severus," she stammered, watching him as he walked away, his long strides increasing the distance between them rapidly. Without his bulky teaching robes on she was able to see now that he was a very trim man, slender, but very toned she imagined, oh yes, toned indeed…
"You know, it's rather late, and cold. Better go inside before you catch something. I hear there's a nasty virus going around the Hufflepuff house," Severus called from the doorway to the stairwell, scoffing at the last part of his warning.
She looked back at him quickly, "Oh, um, thank you, I'll be heading inside in a moment," she choked out, her voice quivering, she was unable to differentiate of it was from the cold or her nerves.
Severus nodded before swiftly turning and disappearing down the stairs. She glanced up on more time at the stars, smiling at how wonderful this disastrous evening had become.