Breakup

0o0o0o

The month of April passed miserably.

Apart from a fantastic spectacle by the Weasley twins Fred and George of a Portable Swamp near Umbridge's office, then their awe-inspiring grand exit from formal education involving fireworks and pyrotechnics, the rest of the month – for Neasa, at least – was downright depressing.

The student body (and Peeves) continued in Fred and George's spirit, rebelling against Umbridge's regime at every opportunity. Dungbombs and Stink Pellets were set off so often many people had taken to wearing Bubble-Head Charms in the corridors; once or twice a Niffler was let loose in Umbridge's office, and attempted to gnaw the rings off her stubby fingers. (Neasa had been warned in advance that this would happen and had worn no jewellery on that particular morning.)

It was comical at first, and it cheered Neasa to know the students weren't taking the Headmistress lying down, but it made Umbridge lash out at Neasa – forcing her away from her important duties to help the Inquisitorial Squad open every single letter and package that went through the castle.

But whatever ridiculous workload Umbridge dumped on Neasa's shoulders, she would've gladly taken all of it and more in exchange to have Severus back.

He had become so distant since that last Occlumency lesson with Harry that, sometimes, it didn't feel like he was her boyfriend at all.

Any attempt at speaking about her real job as an Auror was met with a stony silence – he didn't seem to want to acknowledge it. She showed him the Irish Auror Department badge that she wore and he hardly glanced at it. Perhaps, she reasoned, his problem was with her working for Sirius behind his back all these months – but when Neasa suggested this, Severus changed the subject.

Any attempt at intimacy was met with a yawn, a promise that tomorrow he would feel less tired, or he had a lot of marking to do this weekend, maybe another night. Another night never seemed to arrive. she just wanted normality - was that too much to ask for?

He had good days and bad days. Good days were when he would kiss her in the morning, meet her at lunch and actually eat something, offer her a shoulder massage when she'd had a particularly tiring afternoon. Bad days were when he woke up on the wrong side of the bed; he sulked at breakfast, played with his food at lunch, and spent the evening marking essays in his office.

Neasa recognised a pattern: bad days always coincided with fifth year Potions.

At times she found his moods annoying – and other times they were downright hurtful. Every time he shut down or fell quiet – or tensed up when she touched him – served to remind her of how much she'd hurt him, and she didn't like to think too much about that.

Severus frequently took his essay marking to his office – something he'd rarely done before – and would sometimes stay there all evening. One night, just at the beginning of May, Neasa decided she'd had enough and went to his office to confront him.

When she pushed open the door Severus was, as usual, behind his desk. He looked up when she entered and left his quill in an inkpot.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

"No," said Neasa, taking a seat opposite him at his desk.

"What's wrong?"

There was little concern in his voice. Neasa folded her arms.

"You're avoiding me," she said.

"It's not against the law to mark essays in the quiet of my office."

"No – but you never did that before," she snapped harshly. "You used to take your essays upstairs and we'd sit together by the fireplace – you with your marking and I with a book. What happened to us?"

Severus clenched his jaw, not taking her tone well. "You know perfectly well what happened."

Neasa took her Auror badge out of her blue jacket pocket and put it on the table in front of him.

"What's that?" she asked.

"It's… an Auror badge," said Severus.

"Whose is it?"

"Yours."

"Why won't you acknowledge it? Why won't you talk about it?"

"What is there to talk about?" he asked. "You're an Auror – fine – good for you – I don't care. End of."

"You can't just ignore it!" Neasa said. "There are things we need to talk about – like – what if You-Know-Who finds out Harry has a bodyguard and you didn't tell him? What if Umbridge finds out who I am? We'll all get in trouble – and you don't seem to care at all!"

"What if the Dark Lord found out? – I already know my excuses: I'll tell him Albus didn't tell me on Sirius's request – that's the truth, isn't it? As for Umbridge – it's not my problem."

"Of course it's your problem!" Neasa said, raising her voice. "Are you saying that you wouldn't care even if she carted me off the school grounds herself – or questioned me with real Veriteseram?"

Severus was quiet, his jaw still tightly set. Neasa's voice softened:

"I'm trying to understand you, Severus," she said. "Why won't you come to terms with what my real job is? Why won't you acknowledge who I really am? I'm trying to understand you–"

"Yeah, well, you're doing a damn good job of being an understanding girlfriend," Severus said sarcastically.

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe lying about your identity is just part of the day job to you – maybe it's no big deal – just protocol – but in the real world, Neasa, outside of your precious Auror Department, that's not how people behave. Don't you understand?"

"Understand what–?"

"You hurt me!" Severus shouted. "You betrayed my trust! Neasa Casey is completely fictional – and yet that didn't stop you from leading me on! Don't you see how twisted that is? Don't you see how – how – sick that is? Oh, and I suppose Sirius found it hilarious – 'there goes Snivellus thinking any woman could ever really love him' – I can picture it now!"

"Sirius hated the fact you and I were together!" Neasa replied, raising her voice to meet Severus'. "He was jealous of you! I wanted to tell you the truth early on in our relationship – I visited him at Christmas and told him that things were getting serious between us and you deserved to know the truth – but he wouldn't hear of it! You don't understand - I can't just go against the orders that my employer gives me! Sirius is the one who hired me, and I take instructions from him about Harry's protection. He was afraid that you would blow my cover!"

"Don't try to let yourself off on a technicality!" Severus shouted.

Neasa continued, "Every time we spoke he tried to pit me against you – he said you were up to your neck in the Dark Arts, you were loyal to You-Know-Who and Dumbledore had no business trusting you – and I didn't listen! I didn't listen because I believed in you – I saw a man who was nothing but kind, and loving, and gentle."

"And I suppose I should thank you for ignoring Sirius," Severus remarked.

"I didn't ask for that. Look – you know what it feels like to take instructions that you don't like. You know better than any Auror what that feels like. There must be a small part of you that understands!"

"If you are honestly trying to appeal to my humanity then you need to rethink that strategy," Severus hissed. "Just – just tell me why you're here. What do you want?"

Neasa took a few steadying breaths, composing herself. She took back her Auror badge and pocketed it.

"I came here to ask you a question," she said shortly. "Why are you rejecting me? I don't understand – we're on the same side against Voldemort. I know what I did was wrong, but I don't understand why you won't accept my apology? Why do you hate Sirius so much?"

Severus leaned forward a little, his elbows on the table. He too took a deep breath before answering,

"Did you never wonder why Sirius and I are sworn enemies?" he asked.

"Well… yes," said Neasa.

"Then let me take you back about twenty years. It's the day of my Defence Against the Dark Arts O.W.L and I've just walked out of the exam hall – I pick my usual spot under a beech tree and sit down with a book – minding my own business. Some Gryffindors walk over to me and start taunting me – one of them disarms me, one of the others uses Impedimenta and trips me up. You know the story."

"Why are you telling me this?" Neasa asked. It was true – Severus had told her all about that dreadful experience over a month ago.

"I never told you who my bullies were," Severus replied. "I didn't think you needed to know – I didn't know you knew them."

"You don't mean… Sirius? He was one of them?"

The thought was almost incomprehensible – Sirius? A bully? – the one who had hurt Severus so badly? Sirius had never been anything but a gentleman towards Neasa… But the more she thought about it… The more sense it made.

"It's not that much of a surprise, is it?" Severus asked impatiently. "Did you honestly think Sirius was a little angel?"

Neasa didn't know what to think – she couldn't speak.

Her eyes followed Severus as he stood up from his chair and walked over to the lit fireplace. He stuck out his hands, rubbing them together for a moment to warm them, and then knelt down in front of the hearth, propping himself up on his feet.

"There were four of them – as you know," Severus continued, speaking as if to himself, his eyes lost in the dancing amber flames. "The ringleader was James Potter – you said he was a nice enough man, did you? Well he was the one who disarmed me, levitated me by my ankle, put soap suds in my mouth – all for Sirius's entertainment.

"Peter Pettigrew was always a bit useless – and although Albus made Remus Lupin a Prefect, he didn't do anything to stop James and Sirius. They called themselves the Marauders – a silly name for a gang of stupid teenagers who…"

A tear began rolling down Severus's cheek and dripped down onto the floor; he did nothing to wipe the stain off his skin.

"…made me what I am today," he finished. "Bitter – cynical – unpleasant to be around. Untrusting of others. I told you bullying changes people – well… this is what it did to me."

If Neasa was feeling guilty already, there perhaps were no words to describe how much worse she felt now.

She rose slowly from her chair and approached Severus like one might approach a scared animal: she knelt down next to him, put her hand gently on his shoulder. When he didn't react she pulled him into a tight side-hug, gently rocking him back and forth, and leaned her head against his.

Neasa hadn't held him like this in so long – Severus hadn't let her – and she savoured the feeling, knowing that he would push her away when he awoke from his reverie. She could smell the potions on his robes – the soft cologne on his neck – he was thinner than she remembered.

It took a while for Severus to come around, and when he did he wiped his cheeks dry and sniffled, clearing his throat. Only now did he seem to notice Neasa, and he immediately tensed up; she knew it was time to let him go.

She did, slowly, and their eyes met. Severus's were full of so much anguish it was difficult to look right at him, but Neasa couldn't break away. Was there any coming back from this?

She tried to form words – to beg him to understand that she knew nothing of Sirius's nature – she had never suspected anything close to it. But, she felt… it was beyond words. Whatever she needed to express was too complex, too many-layered for simple words.

So she said to him the only words that would come out:

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

For a moment so brief it hardly lasted a second Severus looked like he'd cry again – but he cast his eyes upwards, blinking back more tears. His breath hitched sharply in his throat.

When he finally looked back at Neasa his eyes were dry, although still red. There was something different about his expression – like he'd made his mind up about something big.

When he spoke, his voice carried a tone of finality: "Neasa," he said.

Neasa had a terrible idea of what he'd say next, and she tried to steer him off it – "We can come back from this – I know we can," she said.

"Neasa," Severus said again. "I need space. I need time. Alone."

She knew it was coming – but hearing it out loud was much, much worse than she imagined and she felt her tip trembling, her eyes fill with tears.

"I'd like you to move your stuff out tonight," Severus added.

"Alright," Neasa said with a stiff nod. "Alright, if that's what you want."

His eyes lingered on her for a moment longer, before he looked towards the fire, his lips turned down. They remained there for another minute, their bodies casting long shadows behind them – even though they sat close to the grate Neasa still felt cold; a chill that came from inside, eating her up until she couldn't remember anything before it. She tightened her blue jacket around her, but it did nothing to shield her from this dreadful cold.