Zephyr

Zephyr

The Morning After

First time tonight, the moon was right
This man made love to me
His eyes on me
His hands on mine
He loved me blissfully

I love this man, this wretched man
I love him cold or grim
Because next to him...
Right next to him
My heart wants naught but him

So in the dark, I lay at ease
His warmth washed out the night
He breathed on me
Right into me
And everything felt right

You love me so, do you love?
I asked with less the laughter
He is far from me
Too far from me
He says the morning after...

Z. Elizabeth

The Morning After

The rolling storm clouds rained softly against the thick windowpane of the low corner room at the back of Hogwarts castle. It hovered forebodingly above the puddled grounds darkening the moods of those safe within the castle walls; all except two. Against the thick, corner windowpane tinkled the soft remnant raindrops of the defeated storm and beyond its surface, inside the warm dungeon room, lay two stilled figures. Overcome by their previous lovemaking, they lay contentedly in each other's arms with nothing but the warmth of their bodies to keep them warm.

The embers of the gently crackling hearth had long been reduced to a dull red. Severus was not used to this kind of heat, or any kind of heat. He was more accustomed to the dark cold ambiance of his quarters as he usually spent them every night. But last night was not a typical night.

Next to the awake figure lay a visiting presence to the usually empty room. Deep in her sleep and contentment, she lay motionless. She had been the object of his constant rumination each night before he went to bed for the past couple of months, and now she lay there before him, flesh, blood, and all. Yet he could not bring himself to sleep. The fear of it all being a dream when he woke the next morning was too much for him to bear. As bleak as he always had been, his dignity had been pushed aside and the inured persona he had masked for so long did not matter anymore. He finally had her in his arms. The unusual sensation that surged through his veins when he smelled her citrus scented body next to his gripped him by the gut and told him to never let go.

He felt unusual. It was quite the fright for him for he almost felt like jumping out of bed and screaming at the top of his lungs that it was going to be a beautiful morning. He suppressed the slight grin eager to plaster itself across his gaunt face as he was reminded of how screwed up he would have to be to do such a thing.

Severus studied his lover's features, playfully connecting the russet freckles mapped out across her face. He loved her face; he loved staring at her. Her lips slightly apart, he saw the soft red tip of her tongue sticking out and he felt the urge to taste it once more. He felt the warm wisps of air she breathed against his long crooked nose while his sober eyes gazed with rapt fascination over her freckled face, though his sunken features held an expression far less immersed than what he truly felt.

Severus ran his fingers up and down her arm as his thoughts wandered to the sleeping figure beside him. He loved this woman. As hard as he tried to hold his feelings back and push her away, she tore down every wall he put up and pushed her way into his life. She was annoying like that, he thought amusedly to himself. But all amusing thoughts left him immediately when he was forced to think through the trifling situation he placed himself in.

"Oh for Slytherin's sake," he muttered to himself as he massaged his temples and rubbed his eyes. "If Albus walked in here and saw you like this, you'd lose more than your job, you fool."

'Worse,' he thought, 'what if Minerva walked in instead?' He quickly dismissed such thoughts for he knew very well what she would do to him if she walked in on him curled nakedly around her Head Girl, and that thought was not too comforting. He also didn't like the idea of her seeing him naked. He shuddered inwardly and cursed under his breath. He stretched his arms out and rubbed his eyes gently before running them through his hair.

He felt a passing zephyr through the cracked window, and quivered as it sent shivers down his hunched spine. He smiled at the touch of the cool breeze on his skin before it left him forever. It reminded him of himself; of his old self. He felt as if the old Severus had flown away with the breeze. With Hermione by his side, he felt like a new man. It was the beginning of a great relationship. But he had a dilemma on his hands.

If he were to confess to the Headmaster what he had done, he would lose his job, and ruin his reputation (thanks to those assholes at the Ministry). He knew what he did was wrong. But no one would ever understand that his feelings for Hermione were real. He knew those bastards at the Ministry would not look down on him as much as they would mock him for his 'desperate' choice for a lover. He could already picture them talking about him bedding a student because an older woman would notice his lack of appeal and sadistic qualities. For it did matter what most said or thought about him.

His reputation was important to him and so was Hermione's. He needed to figure out how to continue his relationship without arousing any suspicions. If worse came to worse, he would just have to wait for her to graduate in a few months before seeing her again.

'For Slytherin's sake, this was a big risk,' he thought to himself. He only hoped no one found out about them before she graduated, though he felt he wanted to boast to the world that she had chosen him, without being under any spell, potion, or charm. It was completely within her own free will and he wanted the entire world to know that. Though he was not sure why he cared. He loved her. Oh Gods he loved her. He only hoped against hope that her feelings would never falter, for his mind was not completely clouded by love and lust for his obstinately stubborn Head Girl.

He knew the age difference between them. He was also aware that a student-teacher relationship such as theirs was not as welcome as it was during the latter part of the late twenties when Headmaster Lufu Agapornis ran the school. Of course, it wasn't exactly welcome, but Agapornis held the record of allowing three of his Professors to engage in multiple acts of copulations with their students to slip right by him unnoticed. They were all from well-to-do families, and were pureblooded wizards as well. They were let off without a word heard from the Ministry. Hermione was Muggle-born, and he had that fucking mark on his arm that reminded everyone what he used to be. There was no way they would let this pass. This was definitely going to be a problem.

The thought of those bastards at the Ministry ruining everything infuriated Severus. He did not care in the least bit how wrong he was. He had the girl and that was all he cared about. He forced himself to think of something else before he got too angry and did something completely asinine that would wake Hermione up.

He smiled when he remembered something from the previous hours. They were about to make love for the first time and he was reluctant to show her his mark. She had seen it once before, but it did not matter much to him. It grew uglier each day and he was none too eager to show her his disfigurement, for that's what it was to him, a deformity of his own person and body.

But she circled her fingers around his tainted arm and kissed it with her soft lips. It stung her deeply, but she endured the pain, for she knew it was nothing compared to what he went through each day. He felt himself fall for her deeply than he ever had. She was too good to be his.

Their earlier conversation had also brought a slight grin to his face. He remembered distinctively how she fumed when she reminded him of how he used to call her 'Granger' as if it were some vulgar word he spat out at her in irritation. He knew it pissed her off, but he only did it when she drifted off from her usual erudite self to a more asinine nature. Though he knew they were all guilty of that at some point.

He stretched out again one last time as he felt sleep slowly overcome his senses. He decided he was not going to worry about this tonight. No. He was going to revel in the warmth of the sleeping woman at his side. His arms settled around her body as he pulled her close to him for comfort and warmth. He never wanted to let her go. 'I love her,' he thought to himself, and at that moment he decided that nothing anyone could do or say was going to change his mind; nothing!

There was a slight rap on the windowpane just as he rested his eyes. He opened them quickly not too sure if he had heard correctly, but there it was again. Severus shot up from his bed and swung his head round to see what was making that racket. His heart was pounding madly within him. In that fleeting moment fear overtook him as transitory thoughts of being caught flooded his mind. He was quickly calmed when he saw that it was just a large gray owl rapping profusely at his window.

He relaxed slightly and released the breath of air he had not noticed he was holding, and cursed inwardly before sauntering over to the rapping owl.

"Who the hell is sending letters at this time of the morning," he cursed under his breath as he got up to let the owl in. "Somebody better be dying," he supplemented bitterly.

When he swung the window open he nearly jumped back when the owl tumbled forward and landed on its face. He was completely exhausted and worn out. Snape picked it up and set it near the fire before giving it some crumbs.

Curious as to who was sending him letters at this time of the morning, and where it was exactly that it came from, Severus tore open the anonymous envelope and read silently to himself what was written inside.

When he was done he stared confoundedly at what he had just read. He immediately scanned through it again several times to confirm it in his mind that what he read was real. He drifted into a dreadful trance as the letter slipped out of his fingers. He felt his body stiffen.

For a moment he thought his heart had stopped beating and a glaring light had flashed before him till he told himself it was all an illusion. In some way he felt his heart had stopped completely. 'It's all a nightmare,' he lied to himself. 'Just a fucking nightmare.' He snapped out of his daze as he slowly shifted his eyes to the cold floor where the letter laid folded by his feet. Severus felt his heart muscles tighten unusually. He looked down on his bed where a slender body laid limply, composed, and undisturbed. He felt his sides go numb as a certain passage in the said letter kept playing itself in his head. He let out an indiscernible gasp of air laced with a despairing note of anguish.

It was all a dream--

It was all a fucking dream.

*****