Chapter 42

“Severus?”

Sarah felt him smile into her hair as he entwined his fingers through hers.

They were lying in bed, in his quarters at Hogwarts, after enjoying another enthusiastic lovemaking session. They dozed happily with their bodies wrapped together like spoons. Severus had thoughtfully arranged for her Floo connection to be linked to his quarters so they could come and go as they pleased. Sarah loved his quarters and found them surprisingly opulent, as opposed to his tired and lived-in cottage at Spinner’s End. Being at Hogwarts also had the added advantage of immediate room service and immaculate housekeeping, care of the ever-diligent House Elves. It almost felt like making love in a high class hotel, only better.

“Hmmm?” he answered sleepily.

“Please don’t shut me out again.” She squeezed his hand tightly. Severus planted a kiss on the top of her head and sighed.

“I am an unapproachable, mean, difficult, stubborn, defensive and secretive man. I cannot pretend to be something I’m not, Sarah. I am also unused to sharing either my secrets or my life with anyone. I cannot guarantee I won’t fly off the handle again. What I can guarantee, however, is that I love you, and I will kill anyone who tries to harm you.” He tightened his grip on her hand as he said the last few words.

Now it was Sarah’s turn to sigh.

“You have such a low opinion of yourself, Severus,” she replied quietly, stroking his thumb with hers. “You’re brave, strong, generous, sensitive, protective, loyal, and you carry the weight of your guilt and shame around like Atlas himself.”

Severus made a snort of derision into her hair as she spoke. He loved her hair; it was thick, glossy, and always smelled of roses.

“I mean it, Severus. You need to give yourself a break. We all make mistakes, and I know you have paid for yours a thousand times over. It’s time to let go of all those horrible things and stop punishing yourself for things you cannot change. I know you always make yourself out to be the bad guy, but you are a true gentleman and one of the most moral people I know. I love you so much, and I wish you had a bit more faith in yourself.”

There was silence for a few minutes as Severus took this in. He was so used to people seeing the bad in him and seeing people quick to judge him on what they thought they knew of him. Sarah, meanwhile, seemed to only see the good. For a long time, Severus was unsure if any good remained within him anymore, he felt so tainted with his actions. One look at Sarah and he knew that it was her that brought out the goodness in him. She relentlessly gave him the love he had craved for so long, love he craved but felt he never deserved. He squeezed her tighter.

After another minute, he spoke.

“Sarah,” drawled his rich, smooth baritone.

“Hmmm?” she answered, kissing his fingertips. She loved his hands; they were so big and masculine, yet pale and perfect. His fingers were long and smooth, like they had been carved from marble by Rodin himself.

“The first Quidditch match of the season is on Sunday. Hufflepuff versus Gryffindor. Regrettably, I have to referee, due to Madam Hooch’s unfortunate bout of Wizard Flu. Would you like to come and watch?”

Sarah turned over in bed to face him, looking up excitedly.

“I get to see you on a broom?” she asked, her eyes gleaming with glee.

Severus smirked. “That is correct. You will get to see my formidable flying skills.”

Sarah giggled. “Modest, as ever.”

“Of course.” He smirked again, running a hand through her thick hair. “So, do you want to come?”

“Wild Thestrals couldn’t keep me away,” she replied, mouth twitching into a smile.

Severus chuckled and pulled her into an embrace. His little Muggle-witch. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so happy.

***

Over the following days, Severus had patiently explained the rules of Quidditch to Sarah so that by the time Sunday came, she knew what to expect.

It was a bright and breezy September Sunday morning as Sarah strolled across the school grounds with Professor McGonagall and her rabble of excited Gryffindors. She was surrounded by a sea of red. Flags were waved, and between the chatter and laughter, the pupils sang various chants and songs as they climbed the steep viewing stands.

“Gryffindor, Gryffindor,

The greatest team you ever saw,

Listen to the lions roar,

Gryffindor, Gryffindor...”

Sarah took her place next to Minerva, feeling butterflies in her stomach. The excitement was palpable and contagious. They chatted amiably, Minerva informing her that Gryffindor lost narrowly to Slytherin last year and therefore the pride of her house was at stake this year. Sarah smiled to herself as she imagined how delighted Severus must have felt to have triumphed over his rival house. Minerva’s look of disapproval said it all.

Within minutes, the teams streamed onto the pitch in rows, red on the left and yellow on the right, each carrying a broom. They were led by, Sarah noticed as her stomach flipped, Severus, who was dressed in referee clothing and holding a sleek-looking black broom of his own in one hand and a heavy-looking trunk under the other arm. He was wearing black jodhpurs and black boots, with a vertically-striped black and white long-sleeved top tucked in. On top of this he wore a short black cape with a white lining. Sarah’s mouth fell open; she had never seen him in anything other than robes or his usual smart suited attire. She admired the way the jodhpurs clung to his long legs and, with a flash of arousal, hugged his groin. It left very little to the imagination. Sarah glanced at Minerva and saw the older woman’s head tilt slightly to the side, one eyebrow raised. She resisted the urge to giggle and flicked her eyes back to the pitch.

Severus was saying something inaudible to the captains of each team, and they shook hands. Then he blew his whistle, and the teams kicked off from the ground, circling high. Snape opened the crate and released the struggling Bludgers, which whizzed up into the air and were swooped upon by the Gryffindor Beaters. With a blast from his wand, he sent the Quaffle soaring up, which was captured skilfully by a Hufflepuff Chaser. Finally, he released the tiny Golden Snitch and blew his whistle once again to signal the start of the game. He then swung his long leg over his broom and took off into the sky.

The crowds started to roar as the game began. A loud, male voice began a running commentary, echoing across the stands. Sarah was aware of the blurs of the balls as they zoomed across the pitch and the speed of the skilful players as they pursued them, but all she could focus on was the dark referee. She watched as the wind whipped his black hair across his face, hunched over his broom, dodging the balls and weaving in and out of play. He really was a superb flyer.

“... A beautiful shot on goal there by Jameson of Gryffindor, only to be blocked by a terrific dive by Jones of Hufflepuff...”

The game continued with aplomb, and in truth Sarah found it difficult not to be distracted by watching her beloved own the sky like a hawk. Points were scored tit-for-tat, and the game was so quick Sarah wondered how any of them stayed on their brooms. She watched Severus swerved to avoid the passing Quaffle before rounding and following the game once more. I have to talk him into giving me a lift, she thought with a grin.

Twenty minutes later, it was all over. Hufflepuff caught the Snitch but Gryffindor won by twenty clear points. Sarah smiled as Minerva took off her hat and swung it wildly around her head with joy. She noticed Severus’ look of displeasure as he landed gracefully on the pitch and began to pack up the trunk, which seemed to be acerbated further by the raised voices chanting:

“Gryffindor, Gryffindor,

With Hufflepuff we wiped the floor,

Listen to the lions roar,

Gryffindor, Gryffindor...”

Someone’s going to need cheering up tonight, she thought, making her way back down the wooden steps behind the boisterous crowd.