Chapter 11

The grandfather clock at the back of the lounge stood tall and silent, the pendulum soundlessly swinging back and forth. Severus had cast a silencing charm on it many years ago when Voldemort had returned and he'd started his role as spy. The ticking to him sounded like each second was being swiped away from his life, like a countdown to his impending death, and it was unbearable. Preferring the peace that accompanied his solitude, he'd never bothered to remove the charm.

Sarah and Severus sat in the silence, both mulling over the events of the evening. The sex with him was so good, she thought to herself. Such tender ferocity from such an austere man. Just his kiss drove me insane. As for his, ah, "magic wand"... And that swell of emotion, I know he felt it too. I saw it in his eyes.

Sarah had never really experienced proper romantic love before. There was once a man she'd been seeing off and on sporadically for a year or so, and yet others she'd had one night dalliances with. That wasn't love. Neither was the unrequited feelings she'd had for the handful of men who had matched her personality seemingly perfectly, only to openly reject her unwanted advances. Yet she yearned desperately for love, and no matter how hard she looked, she never found it. She had friendships, a job, a house, a cat, even her mismatch of a family, but never the one thing she so desperately wanted.

Part of her had doubts about using a Wiccan love spell. She knew that, once cast, it would have a certain amount of inevitability about it, and those things could not be entered into lightly. She also knew that she wasn't beautiful. In all probability, this fact heeded her pursuit of love more than anything else. And so, after becoming proficient with Wicca and trusting both it and her abilities, she'd finally plucked up the courage to ask the Goddess to help her poor heart. The Goddess had responded swiftly. But whereas Sarah was happy to embrace this man as her love, Severus himself seemed aloof, hard and impenetrable. She wasn't sure what he wanted of her, if anything. It was apparent even to herself that she was being superbly naïve about the whole situation, but as usual her head could not control her heart. She shifted position on the sofa. The creak of the leather punctuated the quiet.

When was the last time I had sex before tonight? Severus asked himself. It was surely years. It must have been that time with Madam Rosmerta, when she'd all but dragged me to her chamber after plying me with her newly imported Goblin-made mead. Severus' mouth twitched with a smile. It was good mead. And as for Rosmerta... the woman was all over me like Nifflers on gold!

He'd not been back to The Three Broomsticks since that fateful night, which was the last time Slytherin had won the Quidditch Cup, if he remembered rightly. Rosmerta was eager and skilful, it was true, but she was a predator and a man-eater. Once she'd got what she wanted, she had made sure he was out of the door faster than Bowtruckles on Doxy eggs. If he ever saw her again, he didn't know who would be more mortified. The Three Broomsticks was firmly off limits from that point on, and he'd felt furtive and ashamed by their encounter.

But with Sarah, it was different, he ruminated. Yes, the magic had brought forwards the emotional side, but she did not seem to regret it afterwards. The ritualistic aspect ensured a slower pace; indeed it was more like "making love" than plain old rutting. And she seemed to respond to every kiss, every thrust, as if I was the only man who could elicit such responses. The thought made a bloom of heat swell in his navel and travel down towards his groin. She'd been talking of their bind like it was the most natural thing in the world, like they could get used to living with such an arrangement. A relationship, even! He chanced a swift look at her. He did not need to use Legilimency to understand the look she was giving him; a green gaze of affection tinged with pure, unadulterated lust.

He looked away, momentarily stunned by this. He couldn't bring himself to tell her just yet of the most probable outcome of their unexpected magical binding, not when she was looking at him like that. She'd already had enough shocks for one night; surely the truth about the bind would tip her over the edge.

When he looked back, Sarah's face had changed into an expression of keen interest.

"Was it definitely me that performed the magic after the ritual? You know, with the window slamming and the veil?" she asked after a long time. Severus leaned forwards and flicked his wand at the bottle of wine, to refill their now empty glasses.

He'd almost forgotten about that, with the drama of the non-existent owls and his thoughts filled with the inescapable bind. "Yes, it was definitely you. Have you ever done anything like that before?" he asked, taking a sip from his refilled glass. The elf-made wine was really rather good.

"No, never. I wouldn't have dreamt anything like that to be possible. There are no comparisons in Wicca." She managed to grab the refreshed glass that had soared over to her before it slopped its burgundy contents all over her dress.

"Then it's just as I thought. The ritual must have imbibed you with some of my powers, just as some of yours permeated me and removed my... tattoo." He neglected to tell her his theory about love vanishing it; it sounded too twee to even vocalise.

He placed his glass neatly down on the coffee table. "There is a way to test if this is a permanent affectation and not just a fall-out from the ritual. I want you to see if you can copy my spell." He held his wand aloft and muttered, "Lumos." The tip of his wand ignited like a torch. A smile erupted on Sarah's face before Severus extinguished the wand with a quiet "Nox."

He handed the wand to her, handle first, and she cautiously took it from him in her right hand, examining it once more.

"Raise the wand, and say the word: Lumos."

She did as told, mumbling the word and looking afraid, as though the wand would burst into flames. Unsurprisingly, nothing happened. She looked disappointed.

Severus chided her like the teacher he was. "Feel the wand. It should be an extension of your arm. Do not be afraid of it. Own it. The spell should be an extension of your thought and of your will. You need to believe the word. Command the wand to light. Again," he instructed.

Sarah looked determined as her face screwed up into a scowl of concentration and her arm flexed whilst holding the wand. "Lumos!" she cried, and to her complete surprise and delight, the end of the wand glowed brightly, and she was suddenly reminded of her dream. She gazed in wonder at Severus, who had a curious look on his face.

She started to giggle now, from the sheer joy of it, and began waving the wand around, making shapes in the air. Snape was reminded of a child with a Muggle firework known as a sparkler. His mouth curled in a reluctant smile.

"To stop the spell, do the same thing, but say the word: Nox," he drawled.

Sarah stopped and focused with the same look of determination. "Nox!" she said firmly, and the light disappeared.

Severus held his hand out for his wand back, his eyebrow raised sinisterly as she grinned and passed it back to him.

"Well, this gives us an entirely new dilemma, does it not?" he wondered aloud wearily, placing the wand on his knee.

"Will you teach me more?" she asked eagerly.

Severus rubbed his forehead, looking concerned. "That is yet to be seen."

Sarah looked at him intently. He's talking in riddles again, this can't be good.

"You will most certainly need to be taught. But whether it is allowed, is another matter."

She blinked. Not those bloody owls again, surely.

His eyes found hers with a piercing stare. He'd returned once again to looking stern and severe. "Tomorrow you will come to my work, and we will see if arrangements can be made for your magical education."

It occurred to her suddenly that she knew nothing of this man other than his (rather magnificent) body and his (equally magnificent) magical ability. "Where do you work?"

Severus continued his hard stare, waiting once again for her look of complete shock. "I work as a professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Sarah choked so hard she nearly sent wine gushing from her nostrils.

"There's a school that teaches this?" she spluttered disbelievingly.

Severus continued his serious stare. "Yes. Students are admitted from the age of eleven if they have shown wizarding ability, the likes of which you have just demonstrated."

Sarah coughed again, now recovered from her choking. "And you think I should be taught there? Aren't I a little old for that?"

Severus thought for a moment. If she'd demonstrated wizarding abilities, she would need to be educated in them. It would be dangerous to have the ability to perform magic and not be able to control it. That's the way it had been for a thousand years. The fact that she was older than the rest of students was irrelevant.

"There are ways around that," he said slowly. "I will need to seek advice before we go any further. An ex-colleague of mine will know what to do."

Sarah cleared her throat, looking stunned.

"I realise this is a lot to take in. It's been a somewhat... eventful night for both of us." He glanced at the grandfather clock. "It's late. I should walk you home." He stood swiftly.

He saw her face fall, and she looked like she was going to ask him something. Please, no, don't ask me that, thought Severus with alarm. I don't know if I'll be able to say no. I'm going to be your teacher. Please don't ask to stay.

She chewed on her bottom lip and then opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Severus interjected, "Come; it's been a long night. I'll walk you home."