The Hufflepuff common room was a hive of activity. Students of all ages were clustered around tables laden with an enchanting array of crafting supplies: shimmering glitter, vibrant paper, and an assortment of decorative trinkets. Soft, melodic tunes filled the air, adding a touch of magic to the festive atmosphere as they prepared for the upcoming Valentine's Day celebration.
Jane sat amidst the cheerful chaos, the rhythmic snip-snip of scissors and the soft rustle of paper creating a soothing backdrop to her task. Laughter bubbled up from nearby groups, punctuated by the occasional excited exclamation. The sweet scent of paper and glue filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of chocolate from someone's forgotten treat. Olivia and Eleanor's voices, carrying over the general hubbub, were engaged in a lively discussion about potential Valentine's Day dates.
"I can't believe Valentine's Day is almost here," Olivia exclaimed with excitement. She absentmindedly twirled a lock of her hair as she spoke, her thoughts clearly on Lucas, the tall, dark, and handsome seventh-year prefect she had been seeing. "I've been wracking my brain trying to figure out the perfect gift. Something special, you know?"
Eleanor's cheeks were flushed with a rosy hue as she nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, I totally get you. Sirius has been dropping hints about wanting to visit the Astronomy Tower at night. I'm planning a surprise picnic under the stars for him."
Jane smiled warmly at her friends' enthusiasm, the glow of the fireplace reflecting in her eyes. A sense of contentment washed over her as she listened to their excited plans. "Those sound like wonderful plans," she mused sincerely. "Lucas and Sirius are incredibly lucky to have such thoughtful partners."
Olivia glanced at Jane, noticing the thoughtful expression that had settled on her friend's face. The lively chatter in the room seemed to fade into the background as Olivia's attention focused solely on Jane. "Any plans for Valentine's Day?" she asked.
Jane's fingers paused in their task of arranging the heart cutouts, first by colour then by size. A fleeting look of wistfulness crossed her face before she returned her attention to the task at hand. "Nothing specific," she replied casually,barely a whisper above the gentle hum of the room. "Just enjoying the festive atmosphere here, I think."
Eleanor nudged her gently. "Come on, Jane. You should do something special for yourself, even if you're not seeing anyone. A little self-care never hurt anyone."
Jane shook her head slightly, a faint smile playing on her lips. She felt a pang of longing for companionship, but brushed it aside. "No, really, I'm fine," she insisted, trying to sound cheerful. "I might just take a walk or curl up with a good book. Some quiet time sounds perfect."
Olivia leaned in conspiratorially, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes. "What about Snape? You two danced so beautifully at the Christmas party. I remember thinking you two had some amazing chemistry."
Jane's hands stilled, her jaw tightening at the unexpected mention of Snape. A flush of irritation crept up her cheeks. She looked up sharply, her face painted in disbelief. "Snape? Are you serious, Olivia? He's arrogant and condescending. The only thing I want to do with him is hex his balls off."
Eleanor sighed dreamily. "I know he's a bit of a git, but there's something undeniably captivating about him. Those long fingers of his... imagine the magic he could work in potions class, or, you know, other things." She winked suggestively.
Jane's jaw dropped in shock. "Attractive fingers? Eleanor, what in the world are you insinuating?."
"Jane, are you seriously telling me you've never considered a man's hands to be attractive?" Olivia asked, her eyebrows raised in disbelief.
Jane's face turned crimson. "I...I've never thought about a man like that, Olivia. It's just weird."
Eleanor took a bite of chocolate. "Trust me, Jane," she said, savouring the taste, "there will come a day when you'll understand."
Jane plummeted into the icy depths, her body feeling heavy and leaden. The world above shrank to a distant shimmer as the water's suffocating pressure closed in. Her muscles screamed in agony, protesting the relentless cold. With each futile gasp, her lungs burned, and darkness seemed to consume her. Panic gripped her mind, its icy tendrils threatening her sanity. The weight of the water, once oppressive, now felt like an immovable mountain crushing her spirit.
Confusion and fear swirled in her mind. How had she become trapped beneath the surface with no way out? Where was she? Each movement tightened the chain around her torso, a relentless reminder of her captivity. Her vision blurred, and the world above dissolved into a distant, shimmering haze.
Figures materialised in the murky depths, their faces pale and skeletal. Hollow eyes floated around her, and a sense of doom washed over her as she realised she wasn't alone. Mermaids, their forms indistinct yet menacing, surrounded her.
A figure sliced through the water, a silhouette against the dim light filtering through the lake's surface. Jane's heart leapt—James? Hope flickered.
"James!" she called in desperate pleas. But as the figure approached, dread replaced hope. The face wasn't James's. The features were sharper, the eyes colder.
The boy's eyes flickered to her but held no recognition. Ignoring her cries, he swam on, a ghost in the watery grave, indifferent to her suffering.
With a final, desperate surge of strength, Jane strained against the cold chain. Her lungs screamed for oxygen, each breath a fiery agony. Exhaustion weighed her down, her strength ebbing like the tide, pulling her deeper into despair.
A shadow erupted from the depths, and a monstrous white shape surged toward her with alarming speed. Its jaws gaped wide, lined with rows of razor-sharp teeth. Terror gripped Jane's heart as she screamed, her cry swallowed by the water as it rushed into her lungs. Time seemed to stretch as the predator closed in, its hungry eyes glinting with deadly intent.
And then, with a jolt, Jane woke up.
Gasping for breath, she found herself back in her own bed, safe and sound within the familiar walls of Hogwarts. The remnants of the nightmare clung to her, the sensation of drowning still vivid in her mind. She took deep, steadying breaths, grounding herself in the reality of the waking world. Her heart pounded in her chest, a frantic rhythm echoing the terror of her dream. Sweat glistened on her forehead, a cold film contrasting the warmth of her blankets. She pulled the covers closer, seeking solace in the familiar comfort of her surroundings.
Outside her window, the waxing moon shone brightly in the night sky. The castle, cloaked in a serene silence, hummed with a comforting rhythm. Jane ran a trembling hand through her hair, her mind still reeling from the nightmare's grip. The soft glow of the stars offered a vivid contrast to the terrifying depths of her dream, a gentle reminder that she was safe, surrounded by familiar walls and the comforting embrace of normalcy.
It had felt so real—the pain, the fear, the overwhelming sense of isolation beneath the water's surface. She shuddered at the memory, grateful to be free from its grip. Gathering her thoughts, Jane resolved to shake off the lingering unease of the dream. With a deep breath, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, the cold floor tiles causing her toes to curl in on themselves. She needed a distraction, something to pull her mind away from the terrifying depths of her subconscious.
Jane tiptoed through the quiet corridors, the castle cloaked in the hushed stillness of pre-dawn. Remembering the peculiar entrance to the kitchens, she made her way to the corridor where the fruitbowl portrait awaited. A sense of purpose replaced the lingering unease as she approached the magical canvas. It was time to distract herself, to immerse herself in the familiar routine of Hogwarts.
Finding the portrait tucked away in a secluded hallway, Jane hesitated for a moment before giving it a ticklish poke. With a chuckle and a pleased expression, the pear giggled and transformed into a door handle, allowing her entrance.
Inside, the warmth and bustle of the house-elves' domain greeted her. A tiny figure with large ears and a rather silly name greeted her with wide eyes and a timid posture.
"Good morning, Miss! I'm Mopsy. You must be new here, yes?" Her tone was soft, filled with a gentle curiosity that belied her large, expressive eyes.
A flicker of surprise crossed Jane's face as she realised her unexpected presence in the heart of the house-elves' domain. "Yes, I'm Jane," she replied, a tentative smile gracing her lips. "A Hogwarts student. I hope I'm not interrupting. A cup of tea would be most welcome at this hour."
Mopsy's eyes grew even larger, a look of concern etching her small face. "Tea, did you say, Miss Jane? Students don't often come to the kitchens, especially not this early." Her tiny hands fluttered nervously.
Jane offered a reassuring smile, understanding Mopsy's apprehension. "It's late, I know. I couldn't sleep, and chamomile tea is my go-to for calming nerves."
Mopsy nodded slowly, her timid nature evident as she hesitated before speaking. "Very well, Miss Jane. I shall check with Tilly."
Mopsy disappeared into the bustling kitchen, leaving Jane alone in the cramped corner. The room was a symphony of scents, the rich aroma of freshly baked bread mingling with the hearty promise of simmering stew. A nervous energy pulsed through the air, mirroring the anticipation churning within Jane.
The enchanted hearth cast a warm glow over the kitchen, its hypnotic dance of pots and pans offering a mesmerising spectacle. As Jane watched, the flickering flames painted playful shadows on the walls, creating a soothing atmosphere that gradually calmed her troubled mind.
An eternity later, Mopsy reappeared, Tilly in tow. The older house-elf approached Jane with a kind smile. "Good morning, Miss Jane. Mopsy says you would like some tea?"
Jane nodded gratefully, relief washing over her as she met Tilly's understanding gaze. "Chamomile, if possible," she replied.
Tilly nodded approvingly. "Certainly, dear. Mopsy, bring Miss Jane some chamomile tea, please."
Mopsy curtsied eagerly, her earlier nervousness dissipated. She scurried away and returned moments later, bearing a steaming cup of chamomile tea and a plate of warm scones. "Here you are, Miss Jane! Chamomile tea, just as you requested!"
"Thank you both," Jane murmured sincerely, her hands encircling the comforting warmth of the cup. She took a tentative sip, allowing the soothing embrace of the chamomile tea to calm her frayed nerves and banish the lingering shadows of her unsettling dream.
Mopsy offered a warm smile before disappearing back into the bustling kitchen. Left alone, Jane savoured her tea, lost in quiet contemplation. The rhythmic clinking of utensils and the subtle hum of the waking castle created a soothing ambiance, offering a much-needed respite from the turmoil of her mind.
With a grateful smile, Jane thanked Tilly and Mopsy for their kindness. As she made her way back through the now stirring castle, the first rays of dawn were beginning to paint the sky with hues of pink and gold. Upon reaching the Hufflepuff dormitory, Jane retreated to the privacy of her room. She exchanged her nightwear for something more comfortable and, eager to lose herself in another world, selected a book from her shelves to while away the time until breakfast.
Curled up in her bed in soft morning light, Jane delved into her Charms textbook. The rhythmic turning of pages accompanied by the soft murmur of her own thoughts created a cocoon of focused tranquillity. The complex diagrams and detailed instructions were a familiar comfort, a welcome distraction from the day's uncertainties.
Olivia burst into the common room, her face alight with excitement. "Jane, can you believe it's almost Valentine's Day? I can hardly contain myself!" She flopped down on the bed beside Jane, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "I can just imagine the chaos when all the owls start delivering cards. I heard some people are even using their family owls to help!"
Jane smiled, closing her book momentarily. "It's going to be absolute bedlam," she agreed, a playful glint in her eye. "I wonder if any professors will try to send owls during class. That would be something."
Olivia giggled. "Or imagine if a mischievous student managed to confuse all the owls! That would be hilarious, but also a nightmare for the post owls." She paused dramatically. "I'm thinking of sending a prank card to someone, but I haven't decided who yet."
Jane reopened her Charms book. "Prank Sirius," she offered, answering Olivia's question.
Olivia's eyes widened in excitement. "That's a brilliant idea, Jane! I'll definitely try that later today. But right now, the most important thing is securing the best seats in the Great Hall to watch the owl deliveries. Want to come with?"
Before Jane could respond, Olivia's hand closed around hers, pulling her to her feet. With a determined tug, she led Jane down the stairs and out of the common room, their destination clear – the Great Hall.
Munching on a piece of toast, Jane continued reading, occasionally glancing out at the other students as the minutes ticked by. Soon enough, the first hoot of an owl echoed through the dormitory, signalling the beginning of the spectacle.
A flurry of wings filled the air as owls of every size descended upon the Great Hall. The scene was a breathtaking spectacle: a vibrant tapestry of colours splashed against the ancient stone walls of the Great Hall. Owls of every size descended from the ceiling, each carrying a stack of colourful Valentine's Day cards.
A blizzard of confetti erupted, each shimmering piece a tiny star caught in the sun's embrace. The room transformed into a sparkling dreamscape, filled with the soft rustling of anticipation and the distant, ethereal hooting of owls. Students buzzed with excitement, their voices a playful melody harmonising with the festive paper storm.
Jane was captivated by the kaleidoscope of cards. Each was a miniature masterpiece, adorned with intricate designs, heartfelt messages, and playful embellishments. Some shimmered with enchanted glitter, while others carried the delicate scent of spring blossoms or the tantalising aroma of chocolate.
Olivia's eyes sparkled with joy as she gathered her own cards, her heart swelling with the magic of the moment. "Can you imagine a better way to start Valentine's Day?" she exclaimed, brimming with delight. "This is pure happiness!"
Jane nodded, her heart warming at the shared joy. A whimsical card caught her eye, its small size and vibrant colours beckoning. Inside, a silly love poem, scrawled in childlike handwriting, brought a smile to her face.
"Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Hogwarts is magical,
And so are you!
From a secret admirer"
A gentle chuckle escaped her lips as she finished reading the endearingly awkward poem. The image of a young student, heart filled with earnest affection, crafting such heartfelt lines brought a warm glow to her cheeks. With a fond smile, she tucked the card away, its simple charm already making it a cherished keepsake. As she looked up, she noticed Eleanor approaching their group, her face radiating the same infectious joy that filled the room.
"Eleanor, you have to read this," Jane laughed with delight as she shared the poem.
Eleanor's eyes widened in amusement as she scanned the page. "Oh, this is absolutely adorable!" she giggled. "Whoever wrote this definitely has a knack for words, even if they're still learning the ropes."
The Great Hall was a tempest of noise, a sea of students caught in the undertow of conversation and clattering cutlery. Then, like a thunderclap amidst a rainstorm, the grand doors swung open, revealing Sirius Black striding into the hall with an air of quiet authority. A single, defiant red rose was clamped between his pouty lips, its crimson petals pairing well against his pale skin.
Spotting Eleanor across the bustling Great Hall, Sirius's grin widened like a Cheshire cat's. With a swagger that was both confident and careless, he made his way through the throng of students, his eyes fixed on her. Reaching her table, where she sat with Jane and Olivia, he executed a dramatic flourish, bowing slightly as he presented the rose.
"Eleanor," he began, his tone carrying his usual hint of playful arrogance, "for the most enchanting witch in all of Hogwarts, a token of my admiration."
Eleanor's face erupted in a radiant smile as she accepted the rose, its crimson hue mirroring the blush that crept across her cheeks. "Oh, Sirius, you charmer," she teased as she leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. The gesture was a spark igniting a warm glow in the room, a testament to the deep affection shared between the two.
Jane chuckled softly, her heart filled with a quiet contentment as she witnessed their joyful interaction. A knowing glance passed between her and Olivia, their eyes twinkling with shared amusement and happiness.
"Well, they certainly know how to make an entrance," Olivia whispered to Jane, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
Before Jane could reply, a thud interrupted the playful banter. A large, mysterious envelope landed squarely in her lap, startling her.
Eleanor's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Another one, Jane? You're turning into quite the mail magnet today! And you said there was no one special in your life."
Jane's brow arched in bemusement as she eyed the oversized envelope. "I doubt it's anything exciting," she muttered, a touch of scepticism colouring her voice. Nevertheless, curiosity piqued her interest, and with a cautious hand, she tore open the flap.
Inside, a peculiar assortment awaited her: a sheet of crimson paper, a pair of child-sized scissors, and a small parchment adorned with spidery script. A cryptic message, written in an unfamiliar hand, taunted her: "Since no one else is getting you a Valentine."
A wave of disappointment washed over Jane as she read the cruel words. Her gaze swept across the room, searching for any clue to the sender, but the bustling hall offered no answers.
Eleanor's face mirrored her concern. "Oh, Jane, I'm so sorry," she apologised. "That's just mean."
Jane nodded slowly, her gaze distant as she folded the note and tucked it away. "It's okay, Eleanor," she forced a smile, "it's probably just a prank. Someone's twisted idea of humour."
Eleanor's frown deepened, her protective instincts kicking in. "Well, it's not funny, Jane," she firmly insisted. "You deserve better than that."
Jane managed a small, brave smile, touched by Eleanor's concern. "Thanks, Eleanor," she whispered. "It's really okay. Let's focus on the good stuff, like this adorable poem." She held up the first card she had picked, its cheerful design so impossibly happy when compared to the bitterness of the note. A forced lightness filled her woods as she attempted to shift the mood.
Jane's gaze darted around the chaotic Great Hall, a desperate attempt to banish the sting of the cruel Valentine. Her eyes finally landed on Snape, his figure an ominous silhouette against the bustling backdrop. The Potions prodigy sat at the Slytherin table, his usual impassive demeanour masking a flicker of something sinister. His dark eyes met hers, and a cold, calculating gleam ignited within them, sending a shiver down Jane's spine.
A sudden realisation struck Jane like a bolt of lightning. Snape's knowing gaze, the smug smirk plastered on his face—it all clicked into place. He was the culprit behind the cruel Valentine. A chill ran down her spine as she recalled the practical joke she had played on him at Christmas. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place, revealing a vengeful Snape behind the malicious act.
Jane's jaw clenched, revealing a determined set to her face. A surge of anger coursed through her veins, fueled by Snape's petty vindictiveness. His smug satisfaction was a bitter pill to swallow, and she was determined to find a way to turn the tables.
Olivia noticed the sudden shift in Jane's demeanour, an unusual change from her typically cheerful disposition. Her eyes followed Jane's gaze to Snape, who sat across the hall, a smug smirk plastered on his face. "Jane, is everything alright?" Olivia asked quietly, concern lacing her every word.
Jane forced a tight smile, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Oh, it's nothing," she replied, her voice strained, a desperate attempt to maintain her composure.
Olivia narrowed her eyes slightly, studying Jane's face intently. "Are you sure?" she pressed gently. "You seem... bothered."
Jane hesitated, her gaze flickering briefly towards Snape before meeting Olivia's concerned eyes. "It's nothing, really," she insisted, her tone a touch too dismissive.
Olivia nodded slowly, her eyes still fixed on Jane's face. She knew her friend well enough to sense when something was amiss. With a subtle shift of her gaze, she returned to the cards in front of her.
As the day wore on, a simmering anger replaced Jane's initial shock. Her mind raced, conjuring a mental arsenal of hexes and jinxes suitable for Snape. Each potential spell offered a fleeting sense of satisfaction, a temporary balm for her wounded pride.
A/N: So it turns out if you ask for a Snape themed book club you will end up starting one. That's now my life as well as trying to write a non snamione romance and hating it, but that's a later issue. Instead just think about how much you love this pairing and how you want them to kiss.