Dianthus Stories | By : icewomin Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 3134 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
Anything you
recognize belongs to someone else, namely, JK Rowling. Specifically, elements of the HP universe,
characters from same. Sadly, I have no
hope of publishing this story outside the fan fiction base, although I hope you
enjoy the plot and the original characters I’ve created. Feel free to give me critical feedback,
including flames and harsh criticism. I
may delete it afterward, so as to reduce my personal embarrassment, but I do
promise to read it and incorporate it if I feel it improves the story.
*****
This is Chapter
Twenty Eight. This chapter contains no
smut. But fear not, sexual activity
reappears in Chapter Thirty Three, so if you’d like to, skip ahead. Once again I’ll warn that you may end up a
bit confused if you don’t read the in-betweens.
*****
Chapter Twenty
Eight – There Has To Be A Morning After
Dianthus pulled a
fresh robe out of her trunk and angrily threw it over her shoulders. “Put some knickers on, please,” Snape said
mildly. Dianthus made a face at him and
dug through her trunk for her most provocative pair – a graduation gift from
Melanie, no less. They were entirely
white lace, low slung, with a tiny and demure satin flower in the middle of the
front panel. She’d only had them on
once, when she and the roommates had all gotten a good laugh out of her
modeling them. As she pulled them over
her hips, she noticed Snape’s adam’s apple working furiously.
“Do all your
knickers look like that?” he said in a strangled voice.
She sneered at
him. “I wasn’t planning on leaving the
room without knickers,” she said, jerking the buttons closed down her robe.
“Dianthus,” he
muttered, “for pity’s sake, show some mercy.
Put on something else.”
“I just didn’t
have time, yesterday,” she continued, ignoring him. “After my shower. Should’ve planned ahead and worn these, I
guess. Didrealreally think we’d…well, I
wasn’t thinking, that’s all.”
He tore his eyes
away from the panties now disappearing under her robe and said, “Do you regret
our having had sex?”
“No,” she said,
masking her mounting unhappiness in irritation.
“I just would like to have more than one night, that’s all. I have to find my shoes.” She turned away from him.
“Accio,” he said
quietly. Her shoes flew from under the
dresser, where she’d hurriedly kicked them the day before, into his open
hand. She stiffened. “Turn around, Dianthus,” he said. She shook her head. He crept behind her and wrapped his arms
around her waist, a shoe in each hand.
“Take your shoes,” he said, but he dropped them in front of her when she
refused to move. He tried to turn her to
face him, but she shrugged and shook her head jerkily.
“Fuck, fuck,
fuck,” she whispered, ashamed to face him.
“I’m never like this.” She
clenched her fists, and felt the ring on her finger, smooth and cold against
her sweaty palm. “Give me a minute.”
He jerked her
roughly around. “I won’t give you a
minute.” He forced her chin up so that
he could glare directly into her eyes.
“If you’re going to cry, cry.
Don’t hide yourself from me.”
Dianthus stood looking up at him, her chest heaving, and then he pulled
her into his arms, and she clung to him.
She squeezed her eyes shut and willed the constriction in her chest to
abate. He stroked her hair and rubbed
one hand along her back until she quieted.
Then he led her to the couch and pushed her gently down on it. “Wait here,” he commanded. “We’ll eat in the room.”
Snape walked to
the bed, picked up his clothes from the floor, and shrugged into them. Retrieving his wand from the bed, he fastened
the buttons with a wave, and shoved his socks and boots over his feet. Fully dressed, he strode to the fireplace
along the right-hand wall of the room.
“Incendio,” he intoned, pointing his wand at the empty grate; a fire
roared to life there. He threw in a
pinch of floo powder from the tiny pot on the mantle, and called quietly,
“Tom.”
After a moment,
the toothless innkeeper’s head appeared in the green flames. “Yes, sir?” he said, his face brightening
upon seeing Snape. “What can I do for
you, Mister Snape?”
“Are we too late
for breakfast, Tom?” Snape seemed well
acquainted with the chatty old buzzard, and this was borne out by the old man’s
reply.
“Never too late
for you, Mister Snape. Some eggs and
kippers, maybe, or some nice sausages?”
“How about some
tea and toast, Tom?”
“And some eggs and
sausages,” grunted Dianthus.
“And some eggs and
sausages,” repeated Snape, adding, “for two.”
Dianthus could practically see his eyes roll, though his back was to
her.
“Very good,
sir. I’ll have it sent right up.” The old man’s head disappeared with a ‘pop’,
and Snape returned to sit by Dianthus’ side.
He pointed his wand at the door and muttered a spell to release the
silencing charm he’d placed the night before, then slid the wand back in his
pocket.
“I forgot about that,”
said Dianthus, a ghost of a smile on her face.
“We want to be
sure we hear the house elf,” Snape murmured.
Dianthus bit the
inside of her cheek, feeling awkward and childish after her outburst. “Maybe I should wait in the bathroom until
the house-elf leaves,” she said, finally.
“Why would you do
that?” he snorted. “This is your
room. Tom won’t say anything to anyone,
I can assure you. His business relies on
not seeing too much. His elves are
trustworthy. They keep his secrets.”
“You’re sure?” she
said, anxiously.
“We would have
more to worry about if one of his patrons noticed us together.” Snape took her hand and continued, “What will
you tell your roommates about the ring?”
“I’ll tell them I
got it in London – that’s the
truth.”
They had silently
agreed somehow to keep their involvement a secret. Dianthus didn’t want to spend the next two
years battling whispers that she had slept her way into Bremmel. She guessed Snape didn’t want to taint his
position at Hogwarts with rumors that he’d slept with a student. Through her anger and disappointment, she
knew he was right: she had school, he
had his job. She even felt certain that
keeping things private, even with her roommates, was for the best. Mostly she wanted to know when she’d see
Snape again.
“Severus, when–”
“Wait until the
food gets here, Dianthus,” he said dully.
His statement was followed by an almost immediate knock on the
door. Snape rose and answered it, and a
tiny house-elf bearing a huge tray scampered into the room. It was wearing a gold-colored tea towel
draped like a toga, and Dianthus thought it was probably a female. The elf placed the tray carefully on the
table and bowed itself back through the door.
The savory aroma
of sausages and buttered toast reminded Dianthus that she hadn’t eaten any
dinner the night before. She almost felt
ashamed of the decidedly unladylike attack she made on the heaping breakfast platter,
until she realized Snape was matching her lack of social graces shot for
shot. For several minutes both of them
transferred food from plate to mouth far too quickly, in too great a quantity,
to even contemplate speech. She beat him
to the last sausage, grinning triumphantly as she snatched it from the tray.
Snape raised his
eyebrows and said wryly, “Be my guest.”
“I’m
starving! I wasn’t sitting down there
last night, partying with the graduates.”
“Do you know how
much energy it takes to levitate someone for as long as I levitated you this
morning?” he demanded.
She started
guiltily, but she had already shoved the sausage in her mouth. “Sorry,” she spluttered.
He gave her a
devious smile. “The look on your face in
the shower was certainly worth the effort.”
“You could have
told me, you know, beforehand,” she said, hotly.
“But it was so
much more fun my way,” he snickered.
He carried the
tray of empty plates to the door and set it in the hallway. When he returned to the couch, Dianthus noted
that he sat as far from her as he could, without actually perching on the edge. He took a deep breath and said, very quickly,
“Not until after you graduate, I’m afraid.”
She stared blankly
at him. “What are we talking about?”
“We cannot be
married until after you graduate,” he said impatiently, as if they had
discussed the matter in some detail already.
An idiotic grin spread
across her face. “M-married?”
He looked
puzzled. “Yes, Dianthus, married. Isn’t that what you were asking me
earlier? When we could be married?”
“M-married?” she
said again. It seemed to be the only
word she could form.
“That isn’t what
you were going to ask me,” he said flatly.
Recovering quickly, he went on in a brisk tone, “No matter, we need to
have this discussion sooner rather than later.”
“You want to – to
get married?” she said, her head still spinning.
Snape’s upper lip
curled. “Are you a whore, Dianthus? Or are you just a slut?”
That snapped her
out of her reverie. “Fuck you!” she
hissed.
He continued quite
calmly. “Then why would you want me to
treat you like either one? Obviously I
want to marry you – you are wearing my ring,” he pointed out. She followed his gaze to her finger, where
the ring shone dully. “I intended to
make my intentions clear last night, and then take my leave.” He rubbed his eyes. “That’s what I should have done. Instead I behaved terribly. Courtship generally precedes an abandoned
frolic in the sack.”
“I see,” she said
slowly. “So, do you regret our having
had sex?”
He looked grimly
at her. “I do, because of the many empty
nights to come, before we can meet again.”
“Now you’re
getting closer to my question,” she said, and she bit the side of her
mouth. “Maybe I am a slut. All I cared about was when we can – you
know…”
He gave her a
mocking grin, but she wasn’t sure if he was mocking her or himself. “If you’re a slut, then I am as well. I have been thinking of nothing else since
you got dressed.” His eyes flitted down
to her lap.
“Could be right
now, if you keep looking at me like that,” she said, licking her lips in what
she hoped was a seductive way, rather than a nervous one.
“We are having a
conversation regarding the future, and you will not distract me with your lurid
propositions,” he said, so primly that she sighed in dejection.
“Fine.” She slumped back on the couch, arms folded,
fully aware that she was acting like a child.
“Tell me what you came up with then, since you’ve been considering the
situation.”
“Well, last night
is it until later in the summer,” he said, carefully examining the frayed arm
of the couch.
She stared at him
open-mouthed, breathless, as if she’d been punched in the stomach. “You – you mean, I won’t see you at all?”
“I’m afraid not,”
he said glumly. “I should have been on
my way last night, actually. I have –
family obligations.” He looked at her. “And so, I believe, do you.”
“Aster,” Dianthus
muttered automatically. Then she looked
suspiciously at Snape.
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