MIRAGE MASTERLIST

Hey hope you are having a great day.

So this idea has been stuck in my head for a while so I hope you like it.

So basically Snape and Y/n are secretly married (or an established relationship) and they both are working for the order and during a duel they both get turned into their 15 year old selves with no recollection of the present (during order of the phoenix) and have no idea that they get together. They are very close and "jokingly" flirt with each other (and maybe cuddle when one of them has a nightmare) but act like it's purely platonic (although it's not but are scared how the other will react). Also I think it will be funny to see how the students react to their grumpy professor being soft to this woman they had never met before (she works in the order and that's all they know). Bonus if she is rude to Sirius and Lupin and is very protective of Snape.

Thank you

XOXO

Ps: Love your work

Omg I love this idea so much!! This is also my first request so tysm!! <3 I’ve been going through a rough patch recently with writing which is why I haven’t posted much. I am a little busy with my family atm so I’ll start working on this as soon as I find the time <3

If anyone wants to be tagged once this story is completed leave a comment!

Severus x Y/n

Fred, George and Y/n Snape talking outside the door where the order meeting is being held

y/n: “This is a life or death situation you guys know that right? I’m risking a lot here. Not only I’m an arriving late to the meeting but I’m also going to cause a disruption.”

Fred: “Your Snapes wife! Which is exactly why you should be the one to pull this prank!”

George: “Plus he’s more likely to kill us than you.”

y/n: “Yeah cause that helps.”

Fred: “Just go please professor y/n!”

y/n: *Sighs* “You owe me big time.”

y/n barges into the kitchen as the order all looks up

y/n: “SEVERS TOBAIS SNAPE!”

Sirius: “Ohh snivellus fucked up…”

Severus: *Looks up a look of confusion etched on his face*

y/n: “Who the fuck is Daisy?!?”

Severus: “Darling what? Who is that?”

y/n: *drops a pair of sunglasses on her face* “Daisy me rollin…”

Fred and George laughing in the hallway

Severus: *Stands up and starts heading towards the door*

y/n: “Shit!”

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Temptation (Severus Snape x Y/n)

Severus Snape x Y/n Evadne

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Temptation Masterlist here -> Temptation Masterlist

Warnings - Female reader, use of Y/n, angst, mild swearing, Professor reader

Summary: Severus & Y/n have hidden feelings for each other. Severus doesn't know what this means for them as they have had a hard time in the past and have just gotten to what they like to call a friendship... He wants to be with her but his past is catching up to him and he doesn't want to put her in danger...

If you find mistakes please tell me! I'm not a perfect writer so please just let me know. Happy reading! :)

1994 Yule Ball

Y/n and Severus are in the courtyard outside of the Great Hall away from the prodding eyes of students and staff. Music can be faintly heard from the hall.

Severus: "Miss Evadne..."

Y/n: *Looks over at Severus* "Hmm?"

Severus: *Holds out his hand* "Would you... like to dance?"

Y/n: *Cheeks turn a light shade of pink as she nods and grabs his hand*

Severus: *Pulls her closer buy her waist resting his hand there*

Y/n: *Places her hand on his shoulder and the other in the palm of his hand*

Severus: *Slowly starts to dance with her as his mind clouds with his own thoughts*

Y/n: *After a few minutes of swaying back and forth she slowly leans closer to him a smile on her face as she looks up at him*

Severus: *Lets go of her and steps back*

Y/n: Shit... "Severus? What's wrong? Did I do something?" *A quizzical expression plastered on her face*

Severus: "I'm sorry Miss Evadne... This... this was a mistake..." *Turns around quickly his robes flapping as he begins to walk away*

Y/n: I'll miss my chance... I have to say something! "Severus wait!"

Severus: *Stops but doesn't turn around*

Y/n: "Sev... I... I like you..."

Severus: *He feels a pain in his chest at what he's about to do... but he knows this is the only way to protect you* "I'll keep that in mind Miss Evadne..."

He begins walking away again, his footsteps crunching in the snow as he makes his way back inside the castle...

Not once does he glance back...

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Draco x Y/n

*Draco and Y/n sitting in there house a few years after the war*

Y/n: “I want a baby.”

Draco: “Pardon?”

Y/n: “I want a baby.

Draco: “Woman do you hear yourself?! I’m not capable of being a father. I am not father material.”

Y/n: “No, but you’re daddy material.”

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Main Masterlist

Hello! Welcome! All of my works are posted here and each fandom has its own! If you find mistakes please tell me! I'm not a perfect writer so please just let me know. Please leave your suggestions or requests in my asks, messages or comments!

REQUESTS are currently open

Last updated: 05-03-25

I am currently working on a Severus Snape x Y/n on Wattpad so updates on here might be slow!

Fandoms I write for: Harry Potter My Hero Academia (In progress) Jujutsu Kaisen (In progress)

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Forbidden Loyalties (Lucius Malfoy x Y/n)

Lucius Malfoy x fem!ministryworker

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Warnings: Female reader, use of Y/n, Ministry reader, mild swearing, slight choking, implied cheating, teasing

Summary: A young witch named Y/n L/n, who was born in 1964, resumes her work at the Ministry of Magic in the Improper Use of Magic office. She had previously quit her job due to unknown circumstances. However, she has now returned as head of the department but something seems to be stealing her authority...

If you find mistakes please tell me! I'm not a perfect writer so please just let me know. Happy reading! :)

1991 Ministry of Magic

This fucking idiot. I asked for the papers by Monday! It's Friday! I think to myself as I storm angrily to his office. How hard is it to follow simply bloody instructions?!?

Y/n: "Lucius fucking Malfoy!" *Barges into his office*

Lucius: *Looks up from his papers completely unfazed* "A simple knock would be absolutely wonderful." *Rolls eyes*

Y/n: "Don't get a tone with me Malfoy!" *Shuts door and walks closer to him placing her hands on her hips*

Lucius: *Stands up pushing the papers to the side and pushes her against the wall placing his hand around her neck but not squeezing* "Just because your my boss at the moment doesn't mean you have complete authority over me, darling... and frankly I don't like your tone."

Y/n: "Are you threating me?"

Lucius: "I don't know. Am I?" *A smug smirk appears on his face*

Y/n: *Cheeks begin to turn a light shade of pink as she stares up at him* "L-Lucius I don't think this is appropriate..."

Lucius: *Givers her neck a slight squeeze causing Y/n to whimper softly* "Your actions are telling me otherwise." *He whispers softly his eyes scanning me up and down*

Y/n: "Lucius... you have a wife..." *Her voice is barley above a whisper as she gazes up into his cold grey eyes*

Lucius: "I don't see her." *He whispers as he leans down his lips mere centimeters from touching Y/n's*

Y/n: *Eyes flutter as she feels a strange sensation coursing through her body*

Lucius: *Pulls away from her and walks back to his desk picking up a stack of papers* "But you're right. I don't think this is appropriate."

Y/n: *A look of confusion appears on her face* "Lucius-"

Lucius: *Hands her the stack of papers she asked for* "Here are your papers." *Places his hand on her lower back and guides her towards the door*

Y/n: *Stares at him in shock as he gives her a slight push out of his office*

Lucius: "And it's Mr. Malfoy to you, darling." *He says as he smirks at me shutting the door it my face.

This bitch

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Draco Malfoy x Y/n

(In the common room after Draco got turned into a ferret)

Y/n and Pansy: *laughing their asses off*

Draco: "Oh for fucks sake! Shut your mouths! It's not that funny!"

Blaise: "Mate, you where in someone else's pants."

Y/n and Pansy: *fall off the couch laughing*

Draco: *giving Blaise a death glare*

Y/n: "D-dray did you know that the brain lives on for seven minutes after death?"

Draco: "Babe what the fuck are you talking about?"

Y/n: *giving him a smirk a she tries to hold in her laughter* "It replays the best memories..."

Draco: *confused as fuck*

Y/n: "That will be my seven minutes.."

Draco: *Flips them off*

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To Love Again (Severus Snape x Y/N)

Severs Snape x fem!reader

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Warnings: Starts off a little dark but becomes more light hearted, soft/out of character Snape, mostly fluff, female reader, use of Y/n

Words: +7.5k

Summary: (Based off a request <3)

If you find mistakes please tell me! I'm not a perfect writer so please just let me know. Happy reading! :)

A/N: So this took a lot longer to write and was wayyyy longer than I expected it was gonna be lol but I really enjoyed how this turned out (other than the fact that I kind of gave up toward the end. my birthday is on the 4th bro I was js trying to get this shit completed 😭) and this was a my first request so tyms!! (Im really sorry if this didn't turn out how you envisioned i tried my best! <3) -> Request

1995

As I stir awake, a sliver of sunlight slips through the dark curtains and lands right in my eye. Somehow, this is the best sleep I’ve had in months—and I’m not even in my own bed. With the news of Voldemort’s return and the Ministry scrambling to cover it up, Dumbledore decided it was time to bring the Order back together. He even added a few new members. Myself included.

The house is quiet, which is strange considering how many people are packed into it now. I hear faint movement downstairs—probably Molly making breakfast or Moody pacing like he always does, paranoid that the place will be ambushed any second.

Joining the Order wasn’t something I planned, especially so close to Christmas. But when you see what I’ve seen—what he’s capable of—you don’t stay on the sidelines. You pick a side. And I’ve picked mine, even if that means being a double agent with my husband and putting our lives at risk. I sit up slowly, removing Severus' arm wrapped tightly around my waist, the old bed creaking under me.

I ease out from under the blankets, careful not to wake him. He rarely sleeps this soundly, and I know better than to steal that from him. War has carved deep lines into all of us, but with Severus, it’s in the way his jaw never unclenches, the way he listens to silence like it’s saying something. Right now, though, he looks almost peaceful. Almost.

My feet touch the cold wooden floor, and I shiver. This house, Black’s ancestral home, feels like it’s holding its breath. Grimmauld Place is nothing short of oppressive, but it’s the safest place we’ve got.

I pull on my sweater and head for the hallway, avoiding the floorboard near the door that always groans. The air smells like dust and old wood. Downstairs, I hear a pan clatter, followed by Molly’s low murmur.

There’s a tightness in my chest I haven’t shaken since Dumbledore brought us in. Every morning feels like a countdown. To what, I’m not sure yet. A raid? A betrayal? A message that someone didn’t make it through the night?

I reach the landing and glance back at the room, at Severus. He’d never admit it, but he’s scared. We both are. But fear doesn’t mean you back down. It means you move forward anyway, and I’m already halfway down the stairs.

The stairs creak beneath me, old wood groaning like it resents being walked on. Every sound in this house feels amplified like the place itself is watching, listening. I pass the umbrella stand with the decapitated troll leg and the row of portraits that used to scream every time someone so much as coughed. Someone, probably Tonks, finally found a silencing charm that sticks. Small victories yay!

In the kitchen, the air is warmer. Molly’s at the stove, wand in one hand, spatula in the other, humming something soft and familiar. Her shoulders are tense, though, and she keeps glancing at the clock with all the moving hands, none of which point to “Safe.” She brings it with her everywhere and it's starting to freak some of us out.

She turns when she hears me, a tight smile already on her face. “Morning, dear. Hope we didn’t wake you.” “You didn’t,” I lie. “I slept fine." She studies me for a beat too long, like she knows exactly how heavy sleep has been lately. But she lets it go. “Tea?”

“Please.” I slide into one of the worn chairs at the table, the wood cool under my fingers. There’s a plate of toast already laid out, and I realize just how hungry I am, not just for food, but for something normal.

Voices echo from upstairs, Remus and Arthur, maybe. Something about a meeting. Another day, another strategy session, another list of things we can’t control.

Molly sets a chipped mug in front of me. “Are you managing all right?” It’s not just small talk. It’s the kind of question people ask in war when they want to know if they need to start preparing for grief. I give her a nod and take a sip of tea that’s too hot. "Yeah. I'm managing.”

She pats my hand once, gently, like she knows better. The door creaks open behind me, and I hear the heavy, uneven footsteps of Moody. “Meeting in fifteen,” he growls without looking up. His magical eye swivels toward the corner, “Dumbledore wants everyone.”

Molly sighs and starts clearing the stove. I drain my tea and stand, feeling the weight settle back onto my shoulders. This is what it means to be part of the Order, quiet mornings laced with tension, polite conversation sitting beside secrets, and always, always the knowledge that we’re just one step ahead of darkness.

"I'll fetch Severus."

I head back upstairs, hoping to grab my wand and maybe splash some cold water on my face (and to wake Severus). I pause at the top of the stairs. The hallway is dim, lit only by the pale morning light leaking in through dusty windows.

Our bedroom door is still cracked open. I step inside quietly. Severus hasn’t moved much. One arm still rests where I left it, the other now tucked under his head. His brows twitch like he’s already halfway back in a fight. I get it. Sleep doesn’t come easy when you're always watching for betrayal, even in your dreams. I watch him for a second longer, then turn to the dresser and grab my wand.

The silver handle feels cold in my hand. Familiar. Steady. I tuck it into my sleeve and catch my reflection in the mirror: circles under my eyes, hair pulled back in a lazy knot, an expression I don’t fully recognize anymore. There’s a version of me before all this before the meetings and the lying and the long, quiet looks exchanged over war maps, but she feels like someone I used to know, not someone I still am.

I walk over to the bed shaking Severus awake. "Sev. Sev!" He groans rolling over his eyes opening slightly. "Moody needs us for a meeting in fifteen." "At this bloody hour?" He groans sitting up, a bit of his hair falling into his face.

"Yes, unfortunately. It must have something to do with the children coming for Christmas." I walk over to the dresser grabbing a pair of jeans and a sweater. I jump as a pair of arms wrap around my waist.

"We could just stay a bit longer up here darling, they wouldn't even notice we're gone." I chuckle as he plants a few kisses along my neck. "Put your damn clothes on we are here because they need us Sev."

-

The kitchen is louder now, more voices, chairs scraping, the familiar hum of wizards and witches trying to sound normal in a house built on bloodlines and curses. Sirius leans against the fireplace, arms crossed, jaw tight. He barely acknowledges me. Not out of rudeness, he’s just locked in his own storm.

Remus nods at me as I slip into a seat. “We’re just waiting on Alastor and Snape.” I give a short nod. “He’s coming.” The door opens again, and Moody limps in, muttering to himself. “Too quiet out there. I don’t trust it.”

“When do you ever trust it?” Sirius says dryly. “Exactly.”

I glance toward the door just as Severus walks in, silent and unreadable, cloak billowing slightly as he takes the last empty seat beside me. His eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second, no smile, no nod, just a flicker of shared understanding.

There’s a soft pop, and Dumbledore appears near the hearth, robes trailing, eyes sharper than usual. The chatter dies instantly. “Good morning,” he says, voice calm but firm. “We have a lot to cover.”

And just like that, we’re back in it, talking names, safe houses, coded messages, wand movements, Ministry leaks. Everyone contributes, and everyone listens, but the air hums with the knowledge that everything we’re planning could fall apart by nightfall.

Kingsley runs a hand down his face, looking like he hasn’t slept in days. “We’ve confirmed sightings near Ottery St. Catchpole. Three Death Eaters, possibly more. No casualties, but they’re testing the perimeter spells now.”

Murmurs ripple around the table. Molly stiffens at the mention of her village. Arthur reaches out, touching her arm just briefly. Dumbledore raises a hand. The room stills again. “We’ll need to rotate guard shifts more frequently,” he continues. “We can’t afford to let our protections go stale. Severus," his gaze shifts, “any updates from your end?”

Severus leans forward, elbows on the table, voice low. “They’re looking for something. He hasn’t said what. But there’s movement in the Inner Circle. Lucius is growing reckless. Bellatrix… worse.”

I feel his words like a draft through a crack in the walls. Everyone does. No one asks what “worse” means. No one wants to know. Sirius snorts from the fireplace. “So we’re still dancing blind while they’re planning gods-know-what?” Remus shoots him a warning look. “We’re doing what we can. That’s more than most.”

Dumbledore’s expression doesn’t waver. “We’ll hold ground where we must. But we have another matter to discuss.” A rustle of parchment. A name appears in glowing ink on the air, suspended like a ghost: Draco Malfoy. My stomach knots. Not out of surprise—but because I’ve been waiting for this.

Severus doesn’t move, but I see the way his jaw tightens beside me.

“He’s being watched closely,” Dumbledore says. “Lucius is desperate to keep him protected, but Voldemort has begun to take interest in the boy. If Draco is drawn in, we risk losing whatever leverage we have left with the Malfoy family.”

“And what exactly are we supposed to do about it?” Moody growls. “We’re not babysitters.” “No,” Dumbledore agrees. “But we need eyes on him. Discreet ones.” There’s a silence heavy enough to choke on. I speak before I even know I’m going to. “I can help.”

All eyes turn to me. “Lucius knows me. He trusts me or did. Enough to talk. I can get close to Narcissa.” Severus turns to me, his expression unreadable but something behind his eyes flashes sharp, alarm, maybe. Or something closer to fear.

“I’ll be careful,” I add. “I know how far I can go.” “You’re already too close,” he says under his breath, barely audible. But Dumbledore catches it. He watches us both, eyes thoughtful. “You wouldn’t be alone,” he says gently. “And I trust you to know the difference between risk and recklessness.”

That’s the thing about trust in this house, it’s not a gift. It’s a burden. You carry it like a second skin. The meeting drags on, plans stacking atop each other like unstable towers. Assignments are given. Timelines drawn. When it ends, it does so abruptly, and we’re all left trying to remember how to breathe again.

"Oh and one last thing," Dumbledore says as all eyes turn to him, "Severus, Y/n, Remus, and Sirius when the children come I would like you four to teach and aid them in their dueling skills," We all nod exchanging glances.

Chairs scrape back. Sirius disappears into the hallway without a word. Arthur and Molly exchange quiet words near the sink. Tonks fidgets with a broken spoon. And Severus... Severus doesn’t look at me I just follow him up the stairs.

Inside our room, he closes the door and just stands there for a second. Silent. Still. His back to me. “You shouldn’t have volunteered,” he says finally, voice low. Controlled. “Not for that.”

“I can handle them,” I answer, just as quiet. “And you know it.” He turns slowly. “That’s not the point.” I meet his gaze. “Then what is?” He doesn’t answer right away. Just looks at me like he’s measuring something—distance, maybe. Risk. What it costs to love someone in wartime.

“They’ll use you,” he says finally. “The way they always do. And when it comes down to it, Dumbledore will sacrifice you if it means tipping the scale.” “I know,” I say. And I do.

But I also know that I’d do the same if it meant saving even one of those kids who’ll be walking into this house later with their trunks and their scarred hearts, pretending it’s still Christmas. “I picked this side,” I remind him. "Your side."

He steps toward me, slow and deliberate like we’re back on a battlefield. Maybe we are. “Then let me protect you,” he murmurs, voice almost breaking. “You already do.”

And in the silence that follows, in the quiet ache of the room, I let him pull me in because out there, it’s strategy and secrets and sacrifice. But in here, for just a breath, it’s something else. It’s what we’re still fighting for.

-

The front door creaks open sometime after noon. Laughter echoes down the hall—too loud, too bright for this house—but welcome all the same.

I’m halfway down the stairs when I hear Harry first. “Same miserable wallpaper. Same creepy elf heads.” His voice is tired but dry, amused. “Glad to see nothing’s changed.”

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Ron mutters behind him, dragging his trunk over the threshold. “Mum’s already got a to-do list longer than my arm. And Moody's breathing down everyone's neck like it’s a sport.”

Hermione follows just behind, trying to wrangle Crookshanks back into his carrier with one hand and hold her bag with the other. “Honestly, Ron, it’s not about comfort. It’s about safety.”

“Comfort would be nice too,” Ginny cuts in, brushing snow out of her hair. “One Christmas where no one gets cursed, cursed at, or nearly killed would be an improvement.”

From the landing, I catch Harry’s eyes. He blinks up at me, then offers a small smile. A tired one, but real. “You look taller,” I say, stepping aside to let them through. It’s something to say, something normal.

“Not sure about taller,” he replies. “Just older.” He’s right. They all are. You don’t come back from this fear-stricken world like this and stay untouched. Even Ginny, always quick with a quip, has a shadow behind her eyes. I've only ever met them all once before, so we aren't that familiar with each other, but they all seem like lovely kids.

Molly rushes in from the kitchen, apron on, arms open. She gathers them up one by one, fussing, scolding gently, hugging too long. The hallway fills with warmth and voices, boots thudding, trunks scraping.

Severus appears beside me silently, eyes sweeping the chaos with practiced detachment. But I catch the way his fingers twitch near his wand when Fred drops something with a loud crash.

“Relax,” I murmur. “That was just a box of—” “Exploding Snap cards,” Fred calls from the floor. “No actual explosions this time, promise!” Severus doesn’t smile, but the corners of his mouth twitch just slightly. “Merlin help us all,” he mumbles and vanishes back down the hall.

By dinner, the long table is packed, mismatched chairs pulled in from other rooms. The kids eat like they haven’t had a full meal in weeks—which, judging by the state of Hogwarts, might not be far off.

There’s laughter again, real this time, layered over the clink of plates and the smell of roast chicken. For a few brief moments, it almost feels like Christmas.

But underneath it all is the quiet hum of what’s coming. Dumbledore hasn’t said it outright, but we all know this is the calm before another kind of storm. The kids are safe, for now. But safe is a temporary state in this war. And Grimmauld Place, for all its wards and silencing charms, can’t keep the world at bay forever.

Later that evening, Remus gathers them in the drawing room. “Tomorrow, we start dueling lessons,” he says, voice calm but direct. “Not because we want to turn your holiday into homework, but because the world outside these walls won’t wait for you to grow up.”

“Too late for that,” Harry says under his breath. Hermione nods. Severus steps in from the shadows. “You’ll be paired. Rotated. Watched. No improvising.” He casts a look at Fred and George. “No fireworks.”

“Who, us?” George grins.

Sirius lounges in the armchair, legs kicked out, watching everyone like he’s not sure whether to feel proud or protective. Maybe both. I take a seat on the edge of the sofa and pull out my wand. “Tomorrow, we’ll test your reflexes. For tonight, just don’t hex each other over the last mince pie,” I tease. Ginny raises a brow. “No promises.” They laugh. It’s light, but underneath, I feel it again—that tightness.

-

The dishes are mostly cleared, the fire’s burning low, and the rest of the house is beginning to settle into a wary kind of peace when I feel a tug on my sleeve. It’s Harry. He doesn’t say anything at first, just jerks his chin slightly toward the hallway. Away from the others. Away from the low murmur of Sirius and Remus arguing softly about training plans. Away from the way Severus is pretending not to listen from the corner of the room.

I nod once and follow him. The hallway is dark and cool. The only light comes from a lone, flickering candle floating near the ceiling. Harry leans against the wall, arms crossed, the worn fabric of his jumper stretched tight across his shoulders.

“I didn’t want to ask in front of everyone, and I since we don't know each other that well I know you won't lie or try to protect me like everyone else does,” he says, voice low, a little rough around the edges. “But... how bad is it?”

I exhale slowly. There’s no point pretending. Not with him. Not with everything he's seen already. “Worse than the Prophet says. Worse than the Ministry will ever admit.” He kicks the heel of his boot against the floor once, a sharp, frustrated tap. “I figured.”

There’s a silence between us that isn’t awkward. It’s heavy. Real. He looks up at me then, green eyes fierce under the mess of his hair. “Are they going to come for us here?” I could lie. It would be easy. Safer, maybe.

But I don’t. “They might.”

Another beat. He absorbs it like someone learning to live with a wound that won’t heal. “Good,” he says finally. It startles me a little, and my eyebrows raise. I frown. “Good?”

He straightens off the wall, jaw set. “I’d rather they come here. Where we’re ready. Where we can fight.” There’s something in his voice—not bravado, not anger exactly. Just a grim certainty. A kind of steel that shouldn't belong to someone so young, but here it is anyway.

“You’ll have to be smarter than them, not just braver,” I warn. “Dueling lessons aren’t about flash and showmanship. It’s about surviving. It’s about finishing the fight before they even know it’s started.” “I know.”

And I believe him. God help me, I do. I study him for a second longer, the stubborn line of his mouth, the tension in his shoulders, the bone-deep tiredness he wears like armor. “You’re not alone in this, Harry.”

He shrugs one shoulder. “Doesn’t always feel that way.” “No,” I agree. “It doesn’t. But it’s still true.” A shadow crosses his face, something raw, unspoken. I think he wants to ask something else. Maybe about Voldemort. Maybe about the parts of this war, no one wants to say out loud.

But instead, he just nods and says, “Thanks,” before slipping back toward the drawing room, shoulders squared against whatever comes next. I stand there a moment longer, alone in the hallway, listening to the fire crackle faintly behind the door.

-

The next morning breaks cold and grey. No surprise there. Grimmauld Place never really feels like it’s breathing, even on good days. By the time I make it down to the drawing room, most of the others are already there. The furniture’s been shoved to the edges. Rugs rolled up. Floor cleared. It looks less like a home and more like a dueling arena. Which is exactly what we want.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione are lined up, wands in hand, faces set. Fred, George, and Ginny flank them, fidgeting with nervous energy. Molly’s hovering at the doorway, wringing her hands until Arthur gently steers her away with a whispered, "Let them be."

Severus is standing near the fireplace, black robes sweeping the floor, arms crossed like he’s already judging them. Which, to be fair, he probably is. Sirius is pacing. Restless. Coiled tight like a spring.

“All right, listen up!” Sirius says, clapping his hands once. “First rule of a real duel: you don’t wait for your enemy to bow. You strike first.” Severus’s mouth curls into a cold smirk. “A philosophy befitting a reckless Gryffindor.”

Sirius turns, already ready to bite. “And what's your tactic, Snape? Bore them into submission?” “Enough,” I cut in, stepping between them before either one pulls a wand. “This isn’t about you two chest-thumping your old grudges. It’s about them.” I jerk my chin toward the kids. “And whether they survive what's coming.”

Sirius’s jaw flexes. Severus’s eyes narrow. But both stay silent. “Pair up,” I call. “Two across from two. Wands at the ready.” Harry and Ron square off instinctively. Hermione and Ginny trade a quick look before taking opposite sides. George hesitates until Fred claps him on the back and steps into position.

I walk the line, pacing slowly like Moody taught me. "Spellwork first. Control before power. If you throw a curse without discipline, you're not just endangering your enemy. You're endangering yourself."

Sirius snorts quietly but doesn't argue. “Stunners to start,” I say. “Basic shield spells allowed. No counterattacks until I say.” They nod, faces tightening with focus.

“On three. One… two… three—” The room explodes into motion.

Bolts of red light crisscross the room. Shields flash up. Shouts echo off the high ceiling.

George’s shield charm shatters instantly under Fred’s hit, and he goes sprawling backward with a yelp. “Get up!” Severus snaps from the fireplace. “You think a Death Eater will wait for you to dust yourself off?”

George scrambles up, face burning.

“Focus, George!” I say, softer but firm. “You’re better than you think.”

Harry’s already adapting, side-stepping Ron’s stunner and sending one back with a twist of his wrist that would’ve made Moody grunt in approval.

Hermione’s quick too, blocking Ginny’s shot neatly—but she hesitates a second too long to counter. In a real duel, hesitation kills. “Don’t wait for permission!” Sirius calls. “If you’ve got a shot, take it!”

Severus tenses visibly. "And get yourselves hexed into oblivion by lunging like amateurs? Typical." "Better to fight like hell than cower behind a textbook!" Sirius barks back. "Better to win," Severus hisses.

The kids freeze between them, caught in the crossfire of something that has nothing to do with today's lesson and everything to do with a history they can't see but can definitely feel.

"ENOUGH!" I snap, my voice ringing off the stone walls. Silence crashes down. Sirius glares at Severus. Severus stares back, cold and cutting.

I look at the kids. Their faces are pale and tense. This is not what they need.

“This is real training," I say, voice steady. "Not a pissing contest. Learn from both styles, because out there, you’ll need every edge you can get.”

I turn back to them fully. “Again. Harder. Smarter. And this time, move like your lives depend on it.”

I shoot a sharp look at Remus. He catches it, understands immediately, and steps in front of the kids. “All right, pairs switch!” he calls out smoothly, clapping his hands to break the tension. “New partners. Keep your guard up!”

The kids hesitate, glancing at us, but Remus waves them on. Slowly, they shuffle into new pairs, wands up again, throwing cautious spells under his steady watch. I grab Sirius and Severus by the elbows and haul them toward the far corner of the room, out of earshot.

The second we’re out of range, I round on them. “What the hell was that?” I snap, keeping my voice low but lethal. “Are you both mad?” Sirius opens his mouth, but I cut him off with a glare sharp enough to slice.

“No, you don't get to explain. You don't get to excuse it.” I jab a finger at his chest. “This isn’t about you and your teenage grudge against Severus. This is about them—” I jab toward the kids, where Harry just barely blocks a hex from Fred. “—learning to survive a war!”

Sirius’s jaw works furiously, but he doesn’t speak. Good. He knows he’s on thin ice. I turn slightly toward Severus. “And you,” I say, voice cooling but still hard. “You’re not off the hook either. If you can't keep your disdain on a leash, get out of the room.”

Severus inclines his head stiffly, dark eyes flashing once, but he says nothing. No argument. No excuse. I whirl back on Sirius, stepping in closer. “You're supposed to be better than this, Sirius. You're Harry’s godfather. Do you think he needs to see you losing control like some first-year who can't take a slight? You think that’s what will keep him alive when Death Eaters are throwing real curses at him?”

He flinches slightly at that—barely—but I see it. Good. Let it sting. “You want to protect him? Then act like someone worth following.” Sirius stares at me, breathing hard, hands clenched into fists at his sides. But he says nothing. And that's the only reason I don't rip into him even worse.

I step back, my chest tight. “This is bigger than your pride,” I say, voice quieter but sharper. “Bigger than your hate. You don’t have the luxury of grudges anymore.” Severus shifts beside me, mouth twitching in something quite like a smirk, but I barely catch it.

“And you,” I add, giving him a pointed look, “don’t mistake his mistakes for your permission to be a bastard.” A faint raise of Severus's eyebrow. A very slight, almost imperceptible, nod. Across the room, Remus calls out a correction to Hermione’s footwork, completely ignoring us. Bless him.

“Now,” I say, voice cutting final. “Get your shit together—or get out. I won’t let you two tear this place apart.” I hold their gazes for a beat longer, daring either of them to argue. They don't.

Without waiting for a response, I turn on my heel and walk back toward the kids. They need focus. They need strength. Not whatever bloody mess Sirius and Severus have been dragging around like a ball and chain.

Behind me, I hear Sirius mutter something under his breath, but it’s low and bitter and meant for himself, not for me. Severus follows a second later, silent and dark-eyed, slipping back into the shadows near the hearth. The kids don’t even look up. They’re too busy ducking and blocking and casting.

Remus gathers them back into a circle after another round of sparring, his voice calm but carrying weight. “All right,” he says, lowering his wand. “Change of plan. You’ve practiced defense. Now it’s time for offense.”

The kids straighten instinctively, a ripple of energy moving through them.

I cross my arms, watching.

Severus stays leaned against the wall, silent but alert. Sirius lingers near the fireplace, brooding, but at least keeping his damn mouth shut. “New exercise,” Remus continues. “You’ll work in pairs. Your goal is to disarm or disable one of us—me, Snape, or Y/n—before we disarm you.”

A few eyebrows shoot up. “Wait—us against you three?” Fred asks, incredulous. A rare smirk flickers across Severus’s mouth. “If you find that unfair,” he drawls, “you may want to reconsider your odds in actual combat.”

Remus only smiles, patient. “You have surprise on your side. Use it.”

Ginny’s eyes spark with something dangerous. Harry’s jaw sets. They’re ready. Or as ready as they’re going to be. Remus and I exchange a quick nod. He moves to the center of the room.

Severus shifts lazily from the wall, his wand sliding easily into his hand.

I roll my shoulders once. Let’s see what they’ve got. Remus gives a sharp whistle. “Begin!”

At first, it’s cautious — they scatter, dodging between broken chairs and rolled-up carpets. Whispered plans. Quick glances. But then Harry moves—fast. A sharp flick of his wand sends a bright stunner toward Remus, who parries it easily.

Ginny dives low, rolling behind an overturned settee. Fred and George create a distraction, hurling smoke bombs that erupt with a loud bang and a cloud of purple mist. Typical. But clever.

I raise my wand, clearing the smoke with a slicing spell—and that’s when I see her: Ginny, darting from the side. Before I can fully block, a hex hits my wand hand—not strong enough to disarm me, but enough to jar my grip. Impressive.

I fire a mild shield charm in return, forcing her back, but out of the corner of my eye— Harry. Moving like a shadow. I pivot, readying a block—too slow. His Expelliarmus hits me dead-center. My wand flies from my hand, clattering across the floor. For half a second, the room freezes.

Then Sirius lets out a sharp bark of laughter. “Well, I’ll be damned!” Remus smiles, lowering his own wand slightly.

Severus’s face is unreadable, but his black eyes flicker toward Harry and Ginny, calculating. I retrieve my wand with a small bow of my head toward Harry and Ginny. "Well played." Harry looks stunned for half a breath like he hadn’t believed he could do it.

Ginny just grins fiercely, panting a little, cheeks flushed. Fred whoops from across the room. “That’s our girl!” "Oi!" George elbows him. "And Harry!" Remus raises a hand for quiet. "This," he says, voice steady, "is what survival looks like. Not bravado. Not reckless spells. Strategy."

Harry and Ginny glance at each other, something solid and unspoken passing between them. Severus speaks finally, voice soft but cutting. "Next time, aim for the throat."

I laugh, and Sev cracks a smile. It’s brutal. It’s honest. And exactly what they need to hear. The room stays still for a moment longer, the fire crackling in the silence. This isn’t about winning practice duels. It’s about preparing for the night they won’t be warned first.

"All right let's take a quick break and meet back here in about an hour." The others break off —Fred and George tossing mock insults, Ron rubbing his shoulder and muttering about “bloody insane stunners”, Ginny and Hermione chatting low and fast.

I’m gathering the leftover dueling mats when I feel someone hovering behind me. “Can I—uh—can I ask you something?” Harry says, voice a little rough, a little awkward. I straighten, nodding once. “Of course.”

He hesitates, running a hand through his already-messy hair. His wand is tucked loosely into his belt; he looks younger now, out of the heat of the fight. More unsure.

“It’s about... Snape.” He says the name like it tastes strange. I stay still. Careful. Neutral. “What about him?” Harry looks around once, making sure we’re alone. Sirius and Remus have disappeared into the hallway, voices low. Severus is nowhere in sight. Good.

Harry shifts his weight. “You trust him." It’s not quite a question. Not quite an accusation either. Just raw curiosity. And something sharper underneath hurt maybe. Fear. I don’t answer right away. I slip my wand into my sleeve and lean back against the table, crossing my arms.

“I trust him with my life,” I say finally. “I trust him with yours, too.”

Harry’s brow furrows, suspicious, almost wounded. “But why?” His voice cracks just slightly on the last word, and I realize this isn’t about Severus. Not really.

It’s about everyone Harry’s ever trusted letting him down. He wants a reason not to hate. He wants a reason to believe. I meet his eyes fully. “He’s not your friend, Harry. He’s not here to make you feel safe. He’s not here to like you. But he is here to keep you alive. And in the end, that matters more.”

Harry’s mouth twists like he wants to argue but can’t quite find the shape of it. “He’s risked more than you know,” I continue, voice steady. “More than he’ll ever tell you. And he’s still risking it. Every time he steps back into that world, every time he sits at a table with monsters and pretends to be one of them, he’s betting his life that we’ll win.”

Harry looks away, jaw tight. “It’s not about liking him,” I say, softer now. “It’s about understanding the price he’s paying to stand here on this side of the line.” He drags a hand through his hair, rough and frustrated.

“I just... it’s hard to forget everything.” “I know.” I pause. “You’re not supposed to forget. Just don’t let it blind you.”

He looks up at me, and for the first time I see it—the crack running down the center of him, the fear underneath the anger, the hurt underneath the defiance. He’s still just a boy.

But he’s carrying the kind of burdens grown men would break under.

“If I didn’t believe he was on our side,” I say quietly, “I wouldn’t be here either.” Harry lets out a shaky breath.

"Okay," he says finally, voice low. Not quite convinced. But willing to try.

It’s the best anyone could ask for. I reach out and squeeze his shoulder once, brief but firm. “You’re allowed to be angry, Harry. You’re allowed to hate what he’s done. Just don’t hate what he’s doing now.”

He nods again, sharper this time. More certain. Without another word, he turns and heads toward the stairs, shoulders hunched against everything still waiting for him. I watch him go, my chest tight. One day soon, he’s going to understand just how much Severus has sacrificed for him. And one day soon, it’s going to cost all of us more than we want to give.

But not today.

-

The hour flies by faster than expected. The kids trickle back into the drawing room, looking a little more rested—and a little cockier after their earlier success.

Fred’s juggling two cushions with a Wingardium Leviosa charm, George is trying to distract Ginny with a fake wand that keeps sprouting daisies, and Ron looks suspiciously like he’s hoping to skip this next round entirely.

I’m adjusting the ward lines along the floor when Severus sweeps in, black robes billowing, a fresh scowl already carved into his face like he’s thrilled to be doing this again.

“Ready to embarrass yourselves?” he drawls, voice slicing the room neatly in half. Sirius lounges against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You know, Snivellus, you could try encouragement sometime. Might stop people from ducking when you enter a room.”

Severus doesn’t even look at him. “Your continued breathing is encouragement enough.” Fred snorts loudly. Hermione coughs to cover her laugh. I roll my eyes and step between them before it escalates.

“All right. Same drill—defense first, offense later. And no funny business,” I add, staring pointedly at Fred and George, who try to look innocent and fail miserably.

We spread out. Remus waves his wand, conjuring more padded mats across the floor. “Standard stunners and shield charms to start. Nothing lethal, thank you.” We pair off. Ginny with Harry. Hermione with Ron.

Fred and George.

Severus is stalking the edges of the room, wand drawn, barking sharp corrections. "Elbow in, Weasley!" "Stronger shield, Potter!" "Granger, less hesitation—your enemy won’t be patient."

I stand off to the side, arms folded, letting them get into a rhythm before I join in. That’s when it happens. Fred and George—because of course it’s Fred and George—start sparring a little too wildly. One of them fires a rogue hex that ricochets off Hermione’s shield, bounces off a mirror, and slams into me and Severus simultaneously.

For a split second, there’s a blinding flash of white-blue light. A sound like a rubber band snapping through time. When the smoke clears, the room goes dead silent.

Because standing where I had been— —and where Severus had been—

—are now two very confused-looking teenagers. Severus is skinny, sharp-angled, with a mop of greasy black hair nearly falling into his narrowed black eyes. His school robes are rumpled and his wand arm tensed like he’s ready to hex first, ask questions later.

I glance down at myself. I’m 15 again too. Brilliant. “What the—where the hell are we?” I snap instinctively, patting myself down for my wand (still tucked in my sleeve, thank Merlin).

Severus whirls toward me instantly, all tension bleeding out of him in one second flat. "Y/n?" he says, voice shockingly soft compared to the venom he just spat at Sirius minutes ago. "You okay?" he asks, stepping toward me, frowning like the world might actually end if I’m hurt.

The kids look like they’ve been hit with a Confundus Charm. Harry’s jaw literally drops open. Hermione makes a tiny squeaking noise.

I blink at Severus. He looks... young. And worried.

And very much not the terrifying man everyone knows him as. "Yeah," I say, breathless with surprise. "I'm fine. Are you?" He relaxes fractionally at that, lips twitching into what could almost be a smile.

"Wouldn’t leave you alone in this dump even if I was bleeding out," he mutters under his breath, voice so low only I hear it. Heat creeps up my cheeks.

Because fifteen-year-old Severus Snape is ridiculously earnest under all his prickly armor. And I’m realizing with horrifying clarity that this is how we must've fallen in love the first time.

Meanwhile, Sirius is staring like he’s seen a ghost—and he does not like it.

“What the bloody hell is this?” he demands, pointing at us. Severus instinctively steps half in front of me. Protectively. I glare at Sirius, stepping up beside Severus.

“Maybe if you weren't such a reckless idiot, we wouldn't be standing here, Black, and god did you not age well!” Sirius bristles instantly. “Oi—”

“Touch her and I’ll hex you into next week,” Severus says, deadly calm.

Sirius actually looks offended.

Harry tugs at Remus’s sleeve, whispering frantically. “Is he—? Are they—? Friends?” Remus looks absolutely delighted. “More than friends, if you ask me.”

Meanwhile, Hermione is scribbling notes on a scrap of parchment like she’s documenting a rare magical phenomenon. Ginny nudges Harry. “I think she just made Snape smile. I didn’t even know he had the muscles for that.”

Severus scowls at the room at large, still staying close to me like he’s ready to throw curses at anyone who looks sideways. I nudge him lightly with my shoulder, forcing a teasing smile onto my face to hide my complete and utter panic at the situation.

“Um, what exactly is happening?” Ron asks, looking wildly between me and Severus like we’ve sprouted extra heads. “It appears,” Remus says, with the kind of forced calm that only makes it funnier, “they’ve been turned back into their fifteen-year-old selves. They seem to remember some things, but I think the longer they stay like this... the more they’ll forget.”

“Oh, brilliant,” Harry mutters. “So, what—are we supposed to just pretend everything’s normal?” Across the room, Severus glances around, unimpressed. “Is this some kind of pathetic club meeting?” he sneers, arms crossed but still hovering a little too close to me like I might vanish if he blinks.

“No,” I cut in before he can get more acidic. “It’s dueling practice, genius.”

He perks up immediately at that, dark eyes lighting with interest. “Finally. Something worth my time.”

Fred nudges George. “Ten Galleons says he forgets he’s supposed to teach and just hexes someone for fun.” George snickers. “Make it twenty.”

Remus, wisely, just sighs and raises his hands. “Carry on, then.” Severus spins toward me, tilting his head with mock seriousness. "Partners?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Obviously." He offers me a dramatic little bow, smirking the whole time. It’s stupid and its so out of character for him but it's still adorable. It’s very much not the Severus Snape these kids know.

I can feel the students gaping behind us. Hermione whispers furiously to Ron, "He bowed to her! When has Snape ever bowed to anyone?" Ron just makes a helpless, strangled noise. "Alright, let's begin before these two start to forget everything," Remus announces.

Sirius stiffens, about two seconds away from launching himself across the room. I shoot Sirius a razor-edged grin. “What’s wrong, Black? You finally met someone who doesn’t find you charming?” I say sweetly.

Ginny loses it, barely muffling her laughter into Hermione’s shoulder. Even Harry looks like he’s struggling not to smile. Sirius scowls like he’s been personally insulted by the universe. Fred whispers to George, "I love her."

George whispers back, "Same."

“Enough talking!” Severus snaps, but there’s no real bite to it. “Wands up!”

He faces me, and for a second there’s nothing but fierce, electric focus between us.

Then—wham—he fires a nonverbal hex that I barely block. “Ooh, dirty move, Snape!” I laugh, countering with a spell that sends him staggering back a step.

He grins—grins—and lunges right back at me, fast and graceful and clearly holding back only because he doesn’t actually want to hurt me.

The kids watch, stunned, as we spar.

It’s fast. Fluid. Almost like a dance. No hesitation. No cruelty. Just two people who know exactly how the other moves. “You know,” Hermione whispers to Harry, “this is the least miserable I’ve ever seen him.”

Harry watches Severus, who ducks a hex from me with an easy, boyish laugh—completely different from the rigid, scowling professor they know. “Yeah,” Harry mutters back. “It’s... weird. But kinda cool.”

Meanwhile, Sirius keeps grumbling under his breath, “He’s showing off. He’s absolutely showing off.” At one point, Severus ducks behind me to dodge a fake curse from Fred.

Sirius, meanwhile, looks ready to hex a wall. Through all of it, Severus just gives me a look—half dare, half devotion—and I feel my stomach flip the way it hasn’t since I actually was fifteen. We’re a disaster.

We’re going to be an even bigger disaster the longer we stay like this. And Merlin help everyone because neither of us is anywhere near ready to admit it yet.

The next half hour is absolute, glorious disaster. Fred and George keep "dueling" each other, but really they’re just trying to sneak closer to eavesdrop on me and Severus.

Hermione’s still trying to organize actual drills, bless her, but Ron keeps getting distracted every time Severus "accidentally" brushes his hand against mine again. Ginny’s full-on cackling now, pretending to duel Harry but missing half her shots because she keeps looking over her shoulder and whispering, “Did you see that?! Did you see what Snape just said to her?!”

Harry, to his credit, is trying very hard to be mature about it. He mostly fails. Meanwhile, Sirius is about two seconds from combusting. He stands off to the side, arms crossed, glaring daggers at young Severus like sheer force of will might turn him into dust.

“Unbelievable,” Sirius mutters, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Absolutely unbelievable. He's flirting. Snivellus is flirting.” “And doing a better job than you ever did,” I shoot back without thinking.

Dead silence. Severus outright laughs at that—sharp and rare, the sound surprising even him. He flashes me a grin so quick, so private, that I feel it like a hook behind my ribs. Sirius looks personally offended.

Remus just sighs deeply like he’s aged ten years in two minutes. “All right, enough,” Remus says, stepping between us with a forced, strained smile. “Maybe... maybe we should take another break.”

“You said that an hour ago,” Fred points out, trying to keep a straight face and failing. “This time I mean it,” Remus says through clenched teeth.

He pulls out his wand and mutters a diagnostic spell under his breath. Golden threads of magic swirl around me and Severus, flickering slightly at the edges. "Hm.”

“Hm?” Hermione asks sharply, lowering her wand. Remus hums again. “The age-reversal spell is... strengthening. They’re slipping more into their fifteen-year-old selves the longer it holds.”

“Meaning?” Harry presses, stepping forward. "Meaning,” Remus says, looking slightly pale, “we need to reverse it. Soon. Before they forget everything—including the Order, Voldemort, and what side they’re supposed to be on.”

Severus perks up at that word. “Voldemort?” he repeats, frowning deeply. “What’s he got to do with anything?” I frown too, my forehead creasing. The word sounds familiar, important. But it doesn’t click the way it should.

Remus scrubs a hand over his face. “Right. Right. Definitely time to fix this.”

He pulls Sirius aside, murmuring rapid instructions about fetching some old counter-curse tomes from the Black family library. Sirius grumbles but stomps off, clearly glad to have an excuse to leave the room before he says something that’ll start a duel of his own.

“Are we... are we sure we want them to turn back?” Ron whispers to Hermione. Hermione looks torn between horrified and fascinated. Before any of us can say more, Sirius bursts back in, slamming a huge, dusty spellbook onto the table. “Found it!” he snaps, flipping through pages aggressively. Remus leans over his shoulder. “Hurry.”

Sirius flips through the spellbook with the kind of frantic energy normally reserved for full moons and house fires. “Counter-curse, counter-curse, bloody hell, where is it—?” “Page 394,” Remus says calmly without looking.

Sirius glares at him but flips anyway—and sure enough, there it is.

Meanwhile, Severus has moved closer to me again, shifting nervously from foot to foot like he’s working up to something he’s never said out loud before.

A blinding flash of golden light erupts from the table where Sirius and Remus finally cast the counter-curse. I feel it hit me like a tidal wave—yanking me forward, back, spinning through a lifetime of memories slamming into place.

The Order. The war. The betrayal. The blood. The love. The weight of everything we fought for. I gasp, stumbling, catching myself on the edge of the dueling mat.

Severus staggers too, clutching his head for half a second before straightening—taller now, leaner, sharper. Older. Haunted. He blinks once, twice—and his face slams shut like a vault. All softness gone. All vulnerabilities locked away.

The room is dead silent. I stare at him, heart still racing, memories crashing over me like surf. I remember. He remembers. Everything.

Severus exhales slowly through his nose, cold and composed again, tugging his robes straight like a shield.

Behind me, I hear someone—Fred, maybe—whisper, “Merlin, that was brutal.”

Harry looks stricken. Hermione bites her lip so hard it goes white. Sirius, bless him, mutters, “Still the same miserable git.” But I see it. In the flicker of Severus’s dark eyes.

“Right,” I say briskly. “Practice is over. Everyone out. Now.”

The kids scatter like birds, even Fred and George not daring to joke right now. Sirius lingers just long enough to shoot Severus a filthy look before Remus drags him out by the elbow, murmuring something about giving them space.

Finally, it’s just me and Severus again. And the vast, bruised silence between us.

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The Girl I love (Narcissa Malfoy x Y/n)

Narcissa Malfoy x fem!reader

Main Masterlist here -> DracoLilHoe

Harry Potter Fandom Masterlist here -> HP Masterlist

Warnings - Story written in the form of a poem

Summary: Narcissa talking about her love for Y/n... but with an unexpected twist.

If you find mistakes please tell me! I'm not a perfect writer so please just let me know. Happy reading! :)

The girl that makes me smile is the girl I Love

The girl that makes me laugh is the girl I Love

The girl that comforts me is the girl I Love

The girl that gives the best hugs is the girl I Love

The girl with the pretiest smile is the girl I Love

The girl with the kindest words is the girl I Love

The girl I Love that wiped my tears... is the one that caused them...

The girl who I Loved was the one I Lost...

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!!!TEMPTAION UPDATE!!!

Important Update: Temptation (Severus Snape x Y/N)

Hi everyone,

I wanted to let you know that I’ll be removing "Temptation" from Tumblr and moving it permanently to Wattpad. I’ve decided to do a complete rewrite because I’m not entirely happy with how the story is currently unfolding. I’m excited to dive into this new version and hope you’ll enjoy it even more.

You can read the original version on below, and I appreciate all the support you’ve given me so far. Thank you for your understanding and patience as I work on this rewrite. <3

Main Masterlist here -> DracoLilHoe

Harry Potter Fandom Masterlist here -> HP Masterlist

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Original Version Below

CHAPTER 1

A/N: Mentions of Death and Suicide

Words: 725

August 21st, 1993 8:30 pm

Death. It's always been a topic that has intrigued me. Nobody really knows what happens when you die, but I've always wondered what it would feel like. What would it feel like if I drowned...what would it feel like if I was tortured...what would it feel like if my body just offered itself up as bait?

My father, Gareth, shot himself on my birthday in 1979. I had just turned 11 and was on summer break.

Honestly, it was the best birthday present ever.

I've never seen my mother in such pain when we found him.

SIDE NOTE: I hated seeing my mother upset. She was my everything.

I remember we had a "girl's day", a day when my mom and I spent time together. We were in the car pulling into the driveway and as we walked up the stairs to the front door we saw a note:

My sweet Evaline,

Don't come inside. I don't want you to see this.

Yeah...my mom went inside.

She made me sit on the steps of the porch and wait for her to come back. She looked so broken when she came and sat next to me. Her cheeks were stained with tears and her hands were shaking and coated in blood.

After my father's passing, we held his funeral in London, his hometown. Afterward, my mother decided to sell our family home and moved us to a small apartment in Little Venice (London). She said she wanted a new beginning, free from the reminders of our past.

A load of bullshit if you ask me.

August 22nd, 1993 3:00 pm

My mother always tried to hide the fact that our family was broken. She didn't do a very good job. She would always try to get me out of the house and away from my father.

SIDE NOTE: They only got married because of me. I was just an accident. Nobody had to tell me. It was obvious.

My mother was hopelessly in love with him, but he only wanted to use her because she was, as he like to put it, "appealing to the eye". But me, he hated me. Everything I did always seemed to just piss him off. I could never do anything right. It didn't matter how hard I tried or how much effort I put in.

SIDE NOTE: He used to hit and throw things at me and my mom, especially when he was drunk. Which he almost always was.

August 23rd, 1993 8:00 pm

His death never did sit right with me. It just didn't make sense. It didn't matter that I hated him I always wondered "Why would he kill himself?" Looking back I remember he always used to be gone for days or even weeks at a time.

I wonder why...

August 24th, 1993 10:46 am

Since I was of age I started at Hogwarts. One day I ended up getting a letter from my grandma.

My mother killed herself.

To nobody's surprise, she couldn't handle the pain.

SIDE NOTE: I cried for hours. At the age of eleven losing both of my parents took a toll on me. I wanted to die. Even if I hated my father. I still loved him.

August 25th, 1993 11:00am

My grandma got sick a few months ago. She didn't make it. I remember it like it was yesterday.

SIDE NOTE: May 6th, 1993 6:00 pm. That was when I got the phone call.

I was sitting in the kitchen drinking a cup of tea and working on a painting. I heard the phone ring and got up to answer it. Sometimes I wish I didn't. Just so I could pretend she was alive.

August 26th, 1993 12:00 pm

I always relied on my grandma, since she was my only family left. But now she was gone. I was broke as hell. No job, no money, and could barely afford the apartment. That was until I got the letter.

THE LETTER (June 20th, 1993):

Dear Miss Evadne,

I'm very sorry to hear about your grandmothers passing. My condolences. I understand that you are looking for a job, and I have a proposal. Unfortunately, Professor Sprout has decided to retire, and, as I understand it, you had a real knack for Herbology. If you are interested in teaching this year please write back.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Well, I'm broke, basically homeless, and in need of a job. So what could I do other than say...

yes.

CHAPTER 2

A/N: (h/c)=Your hair color

Words: 1565

August 30th, 1993 7:30 am

I toss and turn in my bed, but it's no use I can't fall back asleep. I sigh and glance at my alarm clock. "Shit!" I exclaim, realizing I overslept.

I throw off the tan bed sheets covering my body and feel the cold morning air send shivers down my spine. I quickly sit up and rush to the bathroom. "Merlin, how could I be so foolish!" I say as I begin my morning routine.

8:00 am

I make a mad dash to my wardrobe and choose the first outfit I lay my eyes on. A raven turtleneck, a dark green skirt, and raven stockings.

I run my fingers through my (h/c) hair making sure the small curls aren't knotted. "Okay," I say as I glance at myself in the mirror, "this isn't that flawed. I suppose." I sigh as I turn around and continue to gaze at my body. I should probably change... This isn't that flattering on me... "Screw it. I don't have time for this." I mutter as I walk toward my kitchen.

I grab a slice of bread and put it in the toaster. I strode over to the hallway closet and put on my jet-black cloak and black boots. I make my way back to the kitchen, taking my purse off the counter and placing it onto my shoulder.

I glance up noticing the toast is ready, I grab it and quickly apply some butter. "Damnit," I mutter as I realize I sliced my finger a bit. I sigh and walk over to my living room. I'll worry about that later...

I eat my toast as I take a handful of floo powder and step into the fireplace. "Headmaster office," I say and drop the floo powder.

8:30 am

I stumbled out of the fireplace and look up to see the familiar office of the headmaster. "Ah, Miss Evadne. On time as usual." the headmaster says as he steals a glance at the clock on his desk. "Hello Professor," I say as I brush the dust off my skirt.

"As we discussed before your arrival, Professor McGonagall will be helping you settle in before the students arrive for the start of term," Dumbledore says motioning toward McGonagall. "Hello dear," she says giving me a warm smile. "pleasure to see you again."

I return her gesture and give a small wave. "Well, Miss Evadne, I trust you will have a great start of term. I will see you at the welcoming feast this Wednesday," he says as he walks further into his office.

"Well, come along dear," Minerva says as she places a hand on my shoulder and guides me out of the headmaster's office. "Pardon me, professor..." "Hmm?" "Dumbledore told me that lessons were already planned out for my convenience, and I was just wondering if you happen to know where he put them?"

"I'm not quite sure, I believe everything should be in your classroom or your chambers. Oh, and please, call me Minerva, as long as students aren't present, of course. We can't have them thinking I've gone too soft, can we? Besides it's only appropriate for you to call me by my first name, considering you are now part of the staff. " She says giving me a small wink. I chuckle softly and smile. "As you wish, Minerva."

"If you don't mind me asking, what happened to your finger?" Minerva asks as she takes hold of my hand. "Oh, I just cut it this morning. It's not as bad as it looks." I say giving her a reassuring smile.

"Come. I'll take you to Poppy." "Minerva, that is not necessary. I'm fine." I say placing my hands behind my back. "Nonsense dear. I was already planning on taking you there anyway. There is someone I want you to meet."

9:00 am

We make our way down a hallway and stop at a big brown wood door. "Poppy," Minerva says knocking on the door softly. The slight sound of heels clicking on the floor can be heard as the door creaks open. "Oh, Minerva," Madam Pomfrey says her eyes scanning the both of us. "is something the matter?"

"Nothing major, Miss Y/n sliced her finger this morning, and I figured we could also introduce her to Miss Dalia," Minerva says. "Please, come on in. I'll be back in a moment." Poppy opens the door wider motioning for us to come take a seat as she heads toward a door at the back of the room.

I walk in behind Minerva and sit on one of the beds. A few moments later Poppy comes back with a young woman who seems to be about my age, maybe a tad older.

She has dark brown hair pulled into two French braids that flow down her back, darker skin, and gorgeous bright hazel eyes. "Dalia Morland," she says as she holds out her hand for a handshake.

I give her a warm smile and shake her hand. "Y/n Evadne." "You're the new Herbology professor, right?" she asks. I nod. "I'm an assistant for Poppy. I'm training to be a Healer. I asked Dumbledore if it would be alright if I could get some first-hand experience before I start the real job." she says as she looks over at Madam Pomfrey.

"I'm assuming you went to school here then?" "Yes, I was in Ravenclaw. I'm assuming you were in Hufflepuff?" "Oh, um," I say giving her a nervous grin, "I was actually in Slytherin." Her eyes widen slightly. "Oh, I'm sorry I just, well, I um just assumed..."

"Alright, enough chit chat let's get that cut of yours healed, shall we?" Poppy says as she diffuses the uncomfortable tension by taking hold of my finger and turning it back and forth examining it. "Alright, not too bad..." she mutters as she takes a small jar from her pocket and rubs the contents onto my finger.

"Okay, should be fine by tonight." she places the small jar in my hand, "If it starts to scar or the cut deepens, rub a bit of this on your finger, it should feel better in no time." "Thank you," I say placing the jar in my bag.

"Okay! We best be-" Minerva starts to say, but Dalia cuts her off. "Minerva, would it be alright if I went with you and Y/n? I think it would be a good chance for the two of us to get to know each other."

"I don't see why not. Would that be alright Y/n?" Minerva asks as the three of them turn to stare at me. "Yeah, that's fine," I say shrugging my shoulders.

9:47 am

"Sorry about earlier," Dalia says as we walk down the corridor away from the hospital wing. "I didn't mean to come off as rude or anything. You just didn't strike me as a Slytherin." "Yeah, I get that a lot. Apparently, having human decency is a Hufflepuff thing or whatever," I say as I roll my eyes. "But don't worry, you didn't come off as rude." She laughs softly as we continue walking.

"If you don't mind me asking, are you the youngest professor?" "Well, I was until you showed up," Dalia says giving me a little smile. "There is a new DADA teacher, Remus Lupin. I haven't met him yet. He's supposed to come at the start of the term. He might be younger." I look over at her, she's staring right back at me a smile forming on her lips. "He's the same age as Severus," Minerva says from behind us.

"Severus?" I ask. "Severus Snape. He's the Potions professor and head of Slytherin. He's scary as hell," Dalia says as the three of us start heading down a flight of stairs and make our way outside. "We like to call him the dungeon bat. Just don't say that to his face." Minerva says a small grin forming on her lips. "Wait, I thought Slughorn was the one in that position?" I ask as the three of us stand in front of the door to the greenhouse. "Well, he was, he retired a while back."

"Well go on in and check it out," Minerva says opening the door for me.

As I walk in I scan the numerous plants dangling from the ceiling and decorating the walls. The vines against the windows allow light to seep in, casting small, colorful smudges on the objects in the room. "Hmm... they changed it up since I was last here..." I mutter as I caress a flower and stroll over to my desk placed in the front corner of the room. I look down seeing all the lesson plans placed neatly in different piles according to each year, the keys for the greenhouse beside them.

"Everything I need seems to be here," I say placing the keys in my bag. "Come, we'll show you where your chambers are and help you get situated, then we can come back here and help you decorate your classroom!" Dalia says excitedly as she heads for the stairs.

"Well, she seems excited," I say turning toward Minerva. "Yes, she has always had a great interest in anything related to art or interior design. Just don't let her use glitter...I still have PTSD...," Minerva says as she shakes her head slightly. I smile softly as we follow Dalia back inside.

CHAPTER 3

Y/n/n = y/n nickname

f/f = favorite food

Words: 2485

September 1st, 1993 5:53 pm

Over the past two days, me and Dalia have become good friends. She has told me a lot about herself and what she likes to do in her free time. She and Minerva helped me organize my classroom and Minerva even gave me some advice on how to deal with difficult students.

Dalia and I have even started a new routine of having tea together every afternoon so that when I'm done teaching for the day she can, as she likes to put it, "get all the juicy gossip".

*Flashback August 31st, 1993 - Dalia's quarters in the hospital wing*

"Dalia?" "Yeah?" "Minerva and I were talking yesterday, and she mentioned a glitter incident. What exactly happened?" She laughs and smirks at me. "Well, a few years ago, a few months into the school year, Minnie, Filius, and Hagrid had asked me to help decorate the Great Hall for Christmas.

I agreed because I LOVE decorating, I decided it would be a good idea to try and cast a glitter charm on a reef that was above the entrance," she pauses, furrowing her brows slightly, looking directly at me with a slight but unmistakable grin.

"Well it backfired, horribly, Snape happened to be walking in at that exact moment, and Minnie tried getting my attention while I was casting the charm, which caused me to not be paying attention to where I was pointing my wand, so instead of hitting the reef I accidentally hit him."

My mouth falls open in shock. "And you're still alive?!" She laughs at my shocked expression. "That's what I said! Merlin, he was livid! I'd never seen him so angry, Minnie immediately stepped in to diffuse the situation saying that it was her fault because she distracted me.

She's like one of the only people who can calm him down! There was also a group of students who were studying in the Hall, so that didn't help either. But, it was hilarious seeing the dark and scary dungeon bat covered in glitter!

Then during dinner, he was giving me dirty looks and wasn't paying attention to what he was doing, he accidentally bumped hands with Minnie as she grabbed her drink. It spilled all over him! He looked like he was going to explode!

"Sheesh, that must have sucked. From what I've heard from you and Minnie he seems to be a bit of a hard head." "Wait, y/n, have you even met him yet?" "No, not yet." "Well, good luck with him," she says as she smirks. My brows furrow in confusion. "What do you mean?" "Girl, he's the potions professor and you're the herbology professor! He has to collect plants from the greenhouse for his classes!" My eyes widen in surprise.

Well, shit.

"He's good friends with Minnie and they talk a lot so he probably already knows you are friends with me." "Dali, being friends with you isn't a bad thing!" "After what I did to him, girl, he will hate you! He holds grudges on everyone, and I mean EVERYONE. It doesn't even matter if you haven't done anything to him."

"Jeez, thanks for the kind words of wisdom," I say rolling my eyes. She stops talking and stares at me with a questioning look on her face. "Wait, did you call me Dali?" "Oh, shit sorry my bad..."

"No, no, no it's okay I like it ... Dali... got a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" Her eyes widen in excitement. "We need a nickname for you! Okay, what about n/n?" "Y/n/n... I guess that's okay." She squeals in excitement. "Okay great!" "Maybe Snape doesn't like you because you're always so happy."

She laughs and looks at the clock on the wall, "Maybe. Merlin, look at the time! Well, I'll see you tomorrow at the welcoming feast. We can catch up in a few days after classes have started so you can get the hang of everything. I need the juicy gossip with the dungeon bat."

She says raising her eyebrows up and down. We walk over to the door of the hospital wing and she opens it dramatically and bows. "Good day m'lady!" I laugh and do the same. "Goodnight Dali, I'll see you tomorrow."

*End of flashback.*

The Welcoming Feast for the first year starts in a few minutes. Great, we have to waste almost half an hour so a bunch of midgets can get sorted into a house. I roll my eyes at no one as I walk into the Great Hall. I look up and spot Dalia.

To her right, there's an empty seat that seems to be meant for me. On the right side of my seat, there's a man whom I haven't had the chance to meet yet. He has green eyes and light brown hair flecked with grey. Next to this mystery man is another professor I haven't met yet. He has shoulder-length, black hair which frames his face, and cold, onyx eyes.

His eyes are actually kind of pretty... and also staring at me. Well, that's fuckin embarrassing. Way to go Y/n don't even know the guy's name and he probably thinks you're a creep.

Dalia waves at me, and I walk over to her. "Hey, girl! Saved you a seat." "Thanks," I say, grasping the back of the chair, smoothly pulling it out, and settling into the seat. "Y/n, this is Remus Lupin. Remus this is Y/n Evadne." Remus extends his hand toward me, and I reach out to meet him with a firm handshake. "Pleasure to meet you Y/n," he says as he gives me a warm smile. "You as well Remus."

Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall open. Minnie walks in followed by a group of first-years. The first years walk down to the front of the hall and stand together some shuffling their feet nervously and others with a confident smile on their face. Minerva silently walks over and grabs a four-legged stool placing it in front of the first years.

On top of the stool sits the sorting hat, looking just as patched and frayed as it did my first year. Minerva pulls out a large roll of parchment from her pocket and holds it out in front of her. "Now, when I call your name, you will place the hat on your head, take a seat on the stool, and wait to be sorted."

"Amir, Danny."

The boy walks up to the stool and places the hat on his head. I take a closer look at the boy. He seems very tall for his age, maybe as tall as some of the fourth years. He has dark skin, dark brown eyes, and messy jet-black hair.

The Sorting Hat bellowed "Slytherin!" as the entire hall erupted into cheers. The boy made his way over to the Slytherin table, a triumphant smile lighting up his face as he took his seat among his new housemates.

Minerva glanced down at the list in her hands. Her eyes scanned the paper until they landed on the name she was looking for.

"Sullivan, Maya."

The girl, who looks a bit short for her age, walks over and places the hat on her head. The hat spills down, covering half of her face, and she giggles. As we all sit in silence, waiting for her house to be called, I take a closer look at her. She has pale skin, long, straight dark red hair, and hazel eyes.

"Difficult this one... better be Hufflepuff!" exclaimed the sorting hat as the entire hall erupted into cheers again. The girl made her way over to the Hufflepuff table, a smile lighting up her face as she took her place among her new housemates.

"Aditi, Cristina."

"Excuse me!" the girl says as she makes her way through the crowd of first-years, her short blond curls bobbing slightly. She could easily be picked out in the group, considering she is a head taller than most of them. She makes her way over to the stool and before the sorting hat even touches her head, it shouts...

"Gryffindor!"

The hall erupts into cheers once more as she makes her way over to the Gryffindor table.

"Morland, Christopher."

Wait... Morland? The boy nervously makes his way up to the stool as he places the hat on his head. It's too big, so it slips down to cover his eyes. I turn to look at Dalia and she has a hopeful look on her face. I look back at the boy again and realize that the two look quite similar. The only differences are that he has light brown hair and green eyes, and he is a bit taller than her.

"Ravenclaw!" the Sorting Hat's voice booms through the Great Hall, eliciting cheers from the students. As he strides confidently over to his designated table, Dalia's spirited cheers rise above the rest, echoing through the hall.

"Dalia," I ask turning to face her. "Are you related to him?" "What? Oh yeah, he's my nephew."

6:45 pm

"Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say before we become befuddled by our excellent feast. I myself am particularly looking forward to the flaming kiwi cups, which, while somewhat treacherous for those of us with facial hair..." Dumbledore is about to continue speaking when Minerva clears her throat, cutting him off.

He chuckles softly before continuing, "Ah. Yes. First, I'm pleased to welcome Professor R.J. Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts this year. Good luck to you, Professor." Lupin stands up as the applause fills the hall.

"As some of you may know, Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher for many years, has decided to retire in order to spend more time with his remaining limbs. Fortunately, I'm delighted to announce that his place will be filled by none other than our own Rubeus Hagrid!"

The room is filled with thunderous applause and jubilant cheers as Hagrid turns ruby red, rises, and nearly topples the staff table, sending water goblets weaving.

"Professor Sprout, our Herbology teacher, has also decided to retire due to some medical problems she wishes to remain private. Fortunately, I am pleased to welcome our second new Professor, Professor Y/n Evande! I trust that the students will give you a warm welcome." As I rise to my feet, the students break into applause. Meanwhile, two red-haired twins at the Gryffindor table let out a few short whistles.

"Finally, on a more disquieting note, Hogwarts -- at the request of the Ministry of Magic -- will, until further notice, play host to the Dementors of Azkaban." Murmurs fill the hall as the students turn to look at their peers.

"The Dementors will be stationed at the entrances to the grounds. While they are under strict orders not to enter the castle itself, you will on occasion see them as you go about your daily activities. Under no circumstances are you to approach them. It is not in the nature of a Dementor to be forgiving. Now enjoy our lovely feast." Dumbledore claps his hands and food appears on the four long tables.

As the chatter and the clinking of silverware fill the hall, Dalia turns her gaze in my direction, "Did you hear about what happened on the train?" I turn to look at her and shake my head putting some f/f on my plate.

"Apparently, Harry Potter got attacked by a dementor." My eyes widened as I turn to stare at her. "Oh, that must have been awful. Was he injured?"

"The boy just fainted," Remus says as he turns to look at the two of us.

"The dementor came into the compartment and went towards the boy. His other two friends Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley were also in the compartment but were unharmed." "That's a relief," Dalia says as she sighs. "The boys' lucky nothing severe happened. Dementors are nasty creatures."

7:53 pm

"Merlin, that was amazing!" Dalia says as she takes a sip from her wine glass. "Come on, n/n, let's go." She pulls out her chair and stands up, her chair sliding against the hard floor. I turn to look at Remus as I stand up. "Lovely meeting you, Remus, I'll see you tomorrow." He nods as he watches me stand up, "Have a lovely evening."

Dalia and I make our way out into the hallway in front of the large staircase. "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow morning. Make sure you have everything ready. Breakfast starts at 6:30 so I'll be at your chambers around 7:30."

"Okay, mom." I tease as I cross my arms and roll my eyes. "Ha ha," she says sarcastically as a teasing smirk appears on her face. "Seriously though I want to help you with any last-minute preparations."

"You worry too much Dali." "Just looking out for my new bestie," she pats my back softly and begins to walk up the stairs. "Love you girl!" I laugh as I watch her walk away. "You are something else, Dali..." I mutter as I turn to walk towards my chambers but instead, I run into a hard chest.

I look up to see the same guy from earlier with the black hair. "Oh, sorry I didn't mean to run into you." For fucks sake y/n way to embarrass yourself.

He sighs and rolls his eyes clearly annoyed. Um, rude what the hell is his problem?

"Just watch where you going next time." He says as he begins to make his way toward the dungeons. Wait a damn minute... "Excuse me," I say to him and he stops but doesn't turn around so I take that as my sign to continue. "I didn't quite catch your name." He doesn't answer for a few moments as he stands there.

What's this guy's problem? I said sorry. It's not like I walked into him on purpose! His approach could benefit from a more accommodating demeanor.

"Professor Snape." He mutters before making his way toward the dungeons once more.

Oh shit.

Well, that makes more sense.

8:07 pm

I finally make it back to my quarters and immediately flop down on my bed. Damn, Dali was right. That man is something else. I set my PJs on the bed before heading toward the bathroom for a quick shower.

After taking a shower, I use a drying spell on my hair with my wand. I then apply my favorite scented lotion and slip into my pajamas before getting into bed, tossing and turning to get comfortable.

Great job Y/n! What a great way to end the day! Piss off the guy you don't even know. Ugh... I hate when I can't read someone from their emotions. I sigh and stare up at the ceiling. Big day tomorrow. Maybe teaching a bunch of kids won't be so hard. I mean, what could possibly go wrong? 

CHAPTER 4

September 2nd, 1993 6:30 am

As the first rays of the morning sun filtered through the curtain a small sigh escapes my lips as I roll over and stare at the ceiling. I didn't get much sleep last night as my nerves were getting the best of me. I can't tell if it's because I'm anxious to teach or if it's just because of my ungodly sleep schedule.

I glance at the clock on my bedside table—6:30 AM. I groan as I swing my legs out of bed, my feet finding the warmth of the plush carpet. My routine was well-rehearsed after years of early mornings. First, a quick visit to the bathroom to splash my face with cold water, a habit that helped shake off the remnants of getting no shut-eye as usual.

A bit later I make my way toward my desk in the corner reviewing my lessons and making mental notes of any last-minute adjustments that may be needed for future classes. I flip a few papers to see which grades I will be teaching today. "First, third, and sixth..." I mutter to myself as I fold the papers placing them into a small bag. I may be a bit of a train wreck but at least I'm prepared.

I head back toward my closet opening the doors. Crap. What am I gonna wear? I stand in front of my closet moving hangers back and forth as I look for an outfit. After what felt like hours of trying on different outfits I found something both professional and comfortable—today is the first day after all.

Just as I finish doing my hair a knock can be heard from my door. "Y/n! It's me! Open up!" Dalia utters as she rocks back and forth on her heels.

I make my way to the door opening it and letting her inside. "Mornin-" "Morning! Okay, so I was thinking what if we quickly go to your classroom and I can help you get things ready so that then we can-"

"Dali!" I interpret her mid-ramble placing my hands on her shoulders so she is facing me. "What?" "Calm down you're a bit jumpy." "Sorry." She says her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "I'm just so excited for you! Oh and love your outfit by the way." "Thanks. It took me a bit to put it together."

"Okay, so breakfast first?" I nod as I begin to follow her out of my room and to the Great Hall. "Dali it amazes me that you're not a Hufflepuff. You are very bubbly." She slows her pace to walk next to me. "Yeah, I've heard that a lot. A bunch of my family is Huffelpuff's so maybe they rubbed off on me."

The morning sun cast a warm glow over the Great Hall, where the brightness of its lofty ceilings and long wooden tables set the scene for the day's beginning.

"I call dibs on the right side of Lupin," Dalia mutters as we approach the table. My eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Why are you calling dibs?" Dalia motions with her head toward the last two empty seats. One next to Lupin and the other next to Snape.

"Sorry." She mutters sitting beside Lupin. "Morning Professor," She says a cheery smile on her face as she takes the seat next to the brunette. "Good Morning Miss Morland. Sleep well?" He questions as he takes a sip of his coffee. She shrugs putting some food on her plate.

As I take a seat in between Dalia and Snape I unexpectedly become very anxious. Why am I so nervous? I talked to him once! Once! He's clearly not that bad, he's just... well... I don't know what he is but he's somethin.

"Miss Evadne!" "Hmm?" I ask as I regain my focus turning toward the raven-haired man. "The water." He says pointing to the now overflowing glass. What? He takes my wand out of my hand and places it on the table.

"You filled the glass too much. You lost focus." He takes out his wand and clears the water off the table. Great another way to embarrass myself. Just my luck. "I would think you would be more aware of your surroundings." He says a teasing smirk on his face.

"Um, what was that about?" Dalia asks as we begin our walk to my classroom. "What was what?" "You like totally lost focus." "I don't know I just got nervous for some reason." Dalia lets out a small chuckle. "no kidding. But what did Snape mean by 'Be more aware of our surroundings'?"

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