Chapter Fifty-Six: Out-of-Sorts

Chapter Fifty-Six: Out-of-Sorts

Monday, 15 March – Tuesday, 16 March 1999

Poppy looked at the watch pinned to her collar. Two minutes late. Not like Severus. But perhaps he had run into a problem. He had been in a strange mood at dinner, she thought, and had left without finishing his meal. When she had seen that Albus was in her chair and Vector wasn't there yet, she had immediately thought to sit next to Severus, but then she remembered her resolve from the night before...early that morning, actually...and she had sat on the other side of Minerva's chair, where Albus normally sat. That was close, but not too close. Just as well she had, too, since he had left dinner early.

She heard the door to the infirmary open and looked out her office door.

"Good evening, Severus!"

He nodded. "Madam Pomfrey. Shall we? I have an appointment with Weasley at eight-thirty."

Madam Pomfrey? He was in a mood, Poppy thought.

Severus sat across from her, and for twenty minutes, they discussed the logistics of the programme, and Poppy mentioned that she had confirmed a meeting with Healer Glyndwr for the next day.

"I'll be meeting with Healer Glyndwr at St. Mungo's tomorrow at five," she said. "We'll probably go to dinner after."

"Glyndwr. All right." Severus flipped a page, found Glyndwr's name and made a note beside it. "If that is all, I will be on my way."

"How are you getting there?" Poppy asked. "To the Burrow?"

"Apparition. I will have to walk a quarter mile past their Anti-Apparition wards, but that is preferable to having to call through from the Three Broomsticks and wait for him to open the Floo for me." He stood.

"Be sure to tell him that I would be happy to speak with him. Ginny has been fairly forthcoming with me. I wouldn't share her confidences without her permission, but I could discuss our concerns about her in a general way."

Severus nodded. "Is there anything in particular I should tell him?"

"Just that she is depressed and that knowing she has the love and support of her family would be helpful to her. I also think your idea of having her take a few extra days holiday is a good one," Poppy replied.

Severus hesitated at the door. "Would you . . . when I return, should I come see you?"

"No, that's not necessary, not unless you learn something surprising," Poppy said. "You can simply speak to me about it at breakfast tomorrow."

He seemed to stiffen even more at those words. "Rather a difficult proposition when you sit down at one end of the table and I am in the middle."

"You can move, you know, if it needs to be more than a brief conversation, which is unlikely." Poppy was becoming annoyed with Severus's attitude. He had been curt for the entire meeting.

"As you did this evening? You and Minerva had quite a nice chat." Severus only just stopped himself from saying something sarcastic about her plans for the Easter holiday.

"Yes, we did. I noticed you left early. You didn't seem to enjoy your meal."

"I did not," Severus replied, his voice hard, remembering again how it had felt when first she had chosen to sit apart from him and then he had overheard that she had plans to go away over the holiday, plans that Minerva already knew about. "Good evening, Madam Pomfrey. I will prepare a written report on my visit to Miss Weasley's father. I will submit one copy to you and another to the Headmistress." He sneered. "It will save you the awkwardness of having to speak to me in public."

"Severus!" Poppy exclaimed, but Severus had already opened the door and left in a swirl of black robes.

Severus went straight to his office when he returned from Weasley's. The place had been a mess. It had never been a palace, and it had always been cluttered, but Molly had kept it clean. He had been tempted to ask Arthur whether he knew any household charms or not, but the poor wizard had been so flustered that he had shown up at eight-thirty, and clearly embarrassed by the state of the house, Severus didn't bother. Arthur was obviously not unaware of the piles of dirty dishes, some gathering mould, scattered newspapers, unopened correspondence, and even random piles of clean and dirty laundry, and Severus did not think that being told he was living in a pigsty would be particularly effective.

Severus had changed his strategy immediately. Instead of recommending that Arthur bring Ginny home early for the holiday, he suggested that they both go away for a couple of weeks. They could stay with family, or perhaps take a genuine holiday and get away, take a trip somewhere. They had money enough now, since Arthur had been awarded an Order of Merlin, First Class, as had Molly, posthumously, and Molly's award money had been given to Arthur.

Arthur was concerned about his youngest child, Severus was pleased to see, and it seemed that that concern overrode his own dim spirits.

"I'm fine when I'm at work," Arthur finally confided, "but when I get home . . . it simply all comes back. And then the house . . . I can't seem to find the energy to do anything, but the mess just makes me feel more down in the dumps. Fleur and Bill come by sometimes, and they do help, but with the new baby, they have their own home to take care of."

Severus, feeling awkward with such a personal conversation, shifted in his chair. "Have you considered moving? Going somewhere else? Getting a small, manageable flat? You could live in London, near the Ministry."

Arthur shook his head. "I can't bear that thought, but living here is becoming almost impossible. I don't know what to do."

"First, ask for help. Bill and Fleur may be busy with their new baby, but you have four other grown sons. You also have some other family, I believe. Beyond that, you need to talk to someone yourself. I think that would help you."

"I don't know anyone I can talk to. Everyone at work, they've either got their own troubles or they're sick of hearing about my losses. The boys are trying to get on with their lives. I can't hold them back."

Severus kept himself from snapping harshly. Weasley certainly could act the martyr sometimes. "You are their father. You worked hard to feed and clothe them and put them through school. You came home every night after work, and from what I know of you, your only real vice is an obsession with Muggle gadgets. It is only right for them to behave like proper sons," Severus said. "If you need someone to talk to, I can give you the name of a Healer at St. Mungo's. If she can't help you directly, I am certain she can refer you to someone. For god's sake, man! Do you know how lucky you are? Molly is gone, and there is no way I can imagine how you must feel because I never have had anything like that. You lost a son, and again, I cannot imagine what that must be like. But you still have five sons and a daughter and many, many friends...who, I am sure, would find listening to you far less burdensome than you believe."

By the time Severus had left, Arthur had agreed to contact Healer Glyndwr and to visit a Diagon Alley travel agency and book a relaxing holiday for himself and Ginny. Severus himself had determined to contact Bill. He understood that there was only so much the eldest Weasley brother could do when he had his own new family, but perhaps when Arthur was on holiday, he could clean the house then arrange to have someone come in on a regular basis. A free house-elf, perhaps. Dobby might be interested in working for Weasley a few hours a week. He seemed to have an affection for Weasleys, though it wasn't as great as his attachment to "the great Harry Potter."

Severus wrote a very brief report of his visit, addressing it to the Headmistress, then he made a copy for Poppy. He sighed. He had not been very pleasant to Poppy that evening. He had taken her behaviour and placed far too much import on it. She had behaved with perfect propriety, if perhaps more aloofness than he would have preferred, and he wouldn't blame her in the slightest if she felt offended by his rudeness. He had been unreasonable and foolish. It was simply that he put more importance on their relationship than she did, and there was no reason for her to believe him to have any feelings stronger than her own. He had always stressed that they were only having a fling, after all, that they were only colleagues.

On the other hand, perhaps he had offended Poppy in some way before that. He puzzled about it, but he could think of nothing he had done that day that could have led her to be offended. Unless it was that he had spoken to Duffy at lunch. No, Poppy would have hardly noticed, and as long as he wasn't rude to the Divination teacher, Poppy probably wouldn't care. He hadn't had occasion to see her between lunch and dinner, and it was she who had decided not to sit beside him. He had sat next to her during lunch, after all...unless that was it, that she hadn't wanted him to sit next to her during lunch, or that she hadn't minded but thought that doing so two meals in a row was too much.

If it wasn't that, then perhaps he had offended her the previous night. He had believed that when he had left her rooms, Poppy had been happy, but it could be that he had said or done something before he left. Or it was the sex itself. He had thought it had been wonderful, but she had told him before that she didn't like anal penetration. She had let him, but it could be that she had just been caught up in the moment, or she knew that he was enjoying it and had just gone along with it because of that. Maybe she felt used and no longer comfortable with him.

Whatever it was, at least half of the problem was in himself, Severus recognised, and he valued his relationship with Poppy sufficiently to admit it. He would just have to do better tomorrow. Still, as he climbed into bed later that night, he felt that same stab of painful emotion when he remembered her holiday plans. No one ever included him in their holiday plans. Well, Albus had tried occasionally in years past, and Minerva had tried to coax him to join a family party one summer's weekend, but those were very rare occasions. And he had never gone.

He could understand not being invited along, but Poppy hadn't even felt he was important enough to her to inform him that she was taking a holiday. And she hadn't wanted to sit beside him, either, and when they had, she hadn't spoken a word to him, just continued her conversation with Pomona as though he weren't even there. She didn't care about him. It really was just fucking for her. And that's all it was for him, too. It didn't matter. But then he remembered her expression when he had left her after their meeting. He put that image out of his mind.

It was just a fling, Severus told himself as he tried to fall asleep. Just an ordinary fling. Not that he'd ever had room in his life for flings before, let alone room for relationships, so they weren't ordinary to him, but flings weren't relationships, he knew that. And he didn't want a relationship with Poppy. Not a romantic one. But he wished they were at least friends and not just . . . whatever they were. He rolled over. He had been better off when he had believed that he neither needed nor wanted friends. Life was easier then. Except for the duplicity. And the torture. And several other nasty things that he didn't want to think about before sleep.

Perhaps another fling would cure him of this one, if he could think of anyone he wanted to have sex with...and who would also want it with him. That was it. He would have another fling. A curative fling. If not a fling, then a tryst or two. If Duffy had been attracted to him, and Poppy was, surely there would be another witch who would not be averse to a good fuck. No strings attached. A stringless fuck, he'd heard it called. That was what he wanted. There weren't any strings with Poppy, either, of course...that was, perhaps, the problem, and it shouldn't be a problem. That was what he needed to cure. He should have another tryst, something hot and carnal. But this time, a tryst with someone with whom he was less likely to want more than that. Not that he wanted more with Poppy, not really, but they were friends, and he didn't want to ruin their friendship by behaving like an irrational prick. He had to remember the limits of their relationship, the limits of their sexual relationship, and not expect more from her.

He would go into Hogsmeade and find himself a stringless fuck. Maybe Gareth could introduce him to someone. One of his cousins, perhaps. He could fuck his way through the McGonagall family. Severus smirked to himself. It wasn't nice of him, and he really didn't think of Minerva that way at all, but the McGonagalls whom he knew were all good-looking. He remembered that Morgana, the Slytherin a few years above him, and her Ravenclaw twin sister, Branwen, were both very striking as teenagers. Morgana was in Australia, but Branwen, if she hadn't got fat, she might be a good fuck. Of course, she had a husband, that portrait artist. Who were some of the other McGonagalls . . . Severus thought for a moment. There was also Melina, and she was a bouncy, energetic witch. She'd probably be extremely good in bed, but she was still married to the elderly Muggle. Severus tried to keep himself from thinking about offering her some physical pleasures that the aging Muggle likely no longer could give her, or perhaps attending the husband's funeral and offering her comfort. She'd be dressed in black, a sorrowful widow, and he could seduce her.

Severus sighed and rolled over again. The thought of seducing a new widow wasn't as arousing as he might have thought it would be, and it made him feel slightly pathetic. And Melina had helped save his life, too. There was certainly little gratitude in even imagining such a thing. The same was true of Egeria Egidius; as attractive as Minerva's mother was, there seemed something unsavoury about imagining a tryst with her.

Who else, then? It was, after all, only fantasy. He would never act on it...at least he wouldn't have to unless it appealed to him.

Severus remembered Filius's statement about Pomona. A darkly smouldering magnetism, she'd said he had. From what he knew of their relationship, they had gone through a few periods where they had been separated...probably awkward separations, given not only that both of them worked in the same school but that both were Heads of House and had to work together. But apparently they hadn't had a separation like that in well over a decade, not since before he began teaching, and it seemed that they were happily devoted to one another. Nonetheless, as a fantasy . . . Pomona seemed to find him attractive. She was a bit more lushly rounded than his usual taste in witches, and she was older than either Minerva or Poppy, but she looked as though she had a lot of verve, and she did have an aura of earthy sensuality about her. It could be quite titillating to make her desire him, to seduce her, to fuck her senseless.

But Pomona was no Poppy. No one was. And a tryst with someone else might be good for him, but it could never be as good as it was with Poppy. Still, he might be able to find someone who just wanted a quick fuck with a war hero, one with a dangerous past as a former Death Eater. He would have to refresh his knowledge of contraceptive charms. Even with the Apsterrere spell in place and not ejaculating, he might not be completely safe. Best to cast one on himself and not rely on some witch who might think that getting pregnant with his baby was a good way to some easy money.

But it would have to be someone whom he didn't see every day, and not one of Poppy's friends. And someone who was attractive. Not that Pomona wasn't attractive in her own way, but she didn't hold any real allure for him. He still wondered about Filius's special attributes, and it wasn't difficult now to understand why the Herbology teacher was with him. It was harder for him to understand the Ravenclaw's apparent devotion to her. He shrugged to himself. He hadn't realised how sexy Poppy was until recently, after all, and if he had a "type," she probably didn't fit it, but he still loved her...no, he still loved having sex with her, he corrected himself quickly. And he did like her very much as a friend. He could understand how a wizard could fall in love with Poppy, even though he hadn't given her any thought until recently.

Severus rolled over. He would try to behave better with Poppy. After all, he had promised her that whatever happened, even if he had regrets about their relationship, he wouldn't blame her for it. He remembered the astonishment and injury on her face when he had taken his leave of her that evening. She cared enough about him to be hurt by him, and he didn't want to hurt her. If he continued to treat her as he had that evening, he would ruin what friendship they had and drive her away from him. He would create precisely the situation he feared: Poppy despising him and wondering why she had ever slept with such a miserable bastard.

At that moment, he wondered why she had ever slept with such a miserable bastard. He didn't deserve her, he didn't deserve her at all, and she had been so generous to him, so kind, so good, so warm and loving. Whatever it was he had done that had made her not want to talk to him, he would fix it, and he would apologise for being such a surly bastard after their meeting. Just because she had said she didn't need to see him about the meeting with Weasley didn't mean that he'd had to be as rude as he had been. And she hadn't ever said she didn't want to see him, just that it wasn't necessary.

Recognising that he wasn't going to fall asleep, Severus waved his lamp on and got out of bed. He threw a teaching robe on over his nightshirt and stuffed his feet into a pair of black leather slippers. A little brewing might relax him. . . . He set off for his Potions lab.

Poppy lay curled in bed, hugging a pillow to herself, her sheets twisted around her legs. She blinked and swallowed. She was not going to cry. She had no reason to cry. But she felt like crying.

She had kept herself busy that evening in the Hospital Wing, then retired to her rooms at about nine. She tried to read, but she kept looking at the clock. Severus was meeting Arthur at eight-thirty. He certainly wouldn't return to the castle until at least nine-thirty, and even then, he wouldn't come see her. Not that she wanted him to, especially not after the way that he had spoken to her that evening. If he had just left, though, and not said what he had about writing the report for both her and Minerva, she might have hoped he would. And it wasn't what he said, but the way he had said it.

Poppy blinked back her tears. When she'd gone to bed at eleven, she knew that he wasn't coming. But she hadn't expected him to, and she hadn't wanted him to, she really hadn't.

But she had hoped he would, she admitted to herself as tears leaked out and trickled down her cheeks. She didn't know why she was crying. Severus was Severus. Just because they had spent the last week having a fling didn't change who he was, and she knew better than to think it would change their relationship. She knew better, but she had still felt that they had become closer, even though it was just a fling. And she had thought they had been friends before that. It had been the sex that had done it: he wouldn't have spoken to her that way before they'd begun their fling. He was occasionally moody or rude, but not the way that he had been that evening. She didn't even know what had brought it on, except he seemed to loathe her now.

She shouldn't cry, she told herself. Not only was it just a fling, but she was too old to be crying about a few rude words from a wizard known for his moodiness. And she certainly knew enough not to expect anything from him. And she didn't care, really. She buried her face in her pillow. She really didn't care.

But she also didn't understand. She had been intimate with Severus in a way that she had only been intimate with one other wizard in her life. She had let go and trusted him, and she had believed that he trusted her. He had wanted her to bind him so that he could feel that trust and safety.

It had all been too much too fast, Poppy recognised. She had known it before, and she had told herself that she should limit her intimacy with him, but she hadn't. And fool that she was, she had let him into her heart, despite her very ineffectual denials to herself. She wasn't in love with him, she couldn't be, but she had let herself think about the possibility, and she had let herself enjoy the emotional intimacy with a wizard who was normally closed off, buttoned up, and aloof.

It was her stupid Hufflepuff desire to protect and nurture him, to enfold him in her arms and hold him warm in her heart. Stupid, she told herself. Stupid. She should know better. She had let her care for him run away with her, opening herself up to feelings that Severus did not and could not return. And now, they might not even be friends.

She should have just stayed in her rooms that night when she'd invited him in for tea. It had been an experiment in flirtation for him, and that was all it had been...until she followed him back to his quarters. An experiment was all it would have remained if she had had the good sense to stay in her own rooms and not follow him down to the dungeons. But no, she had to become foolishly aroused and curious, and it was just as Minerva had said the next morning: she had been an experiment to him and he . . . she had been enticed by his vulnerability. She hadn't meant to take advantage of him, and it hadn't seemed that way at the time, but if it had been a different wizard there that night who had done those things, he never would have got as far as the kiss, and she would have redirected his flirting very early on. And even if she hadn't, she was still certain that she wouldn't have simply followed some other flirtatious wizard back to his quarters. She just didn't do things like that.

It was hard for Poppy to reconcile the couch-cuddling Severus, the Severus who said he enjoyed waking up next to her, the Severus who had brought her out to Delancie's the evening before, and the Severus who took his time pleasuring her, with the Severus who had sneered at her, who had called her "Madam Pomfrey" in her private office, and who had told her he would write her a memo so that they wouldn't have to be seen speaking in public. Poppy blinked back a few more tears. It had been entirely unexpected, just as unexpected as his initial flirtation had been.

Poppy rolled over. She should just pretend the entire previous week had never happened. Pretend that they hadn't had sex, that he hadn't brought her pleasure, that she hadn't done things with him just because he enjoyed them even when she didn't enjoy them much at all, that he hadn't brought her out to dinner, that he hadn't made her tea, that he hadn't bet on Hufflepuff to win against Gryffindor because he hadn't liked the way that Minerva had spoken to her. That he hadn't told her that she could call him "Sev." She would just pretend it had all been . . . nothing. That was best. Otherwise, she might begin to believe that she had a broken heart. And that was impossible.

Severus carefully stoppered the potion with a new cork, then Summoned some wax from across the room. He frowned. Green. He cast a permanent colour-change charm on the wax, changing it to a warm Hufflepuff yellow. It would go better with Poppy's decor, he reasoned. Provided, of course, that she accepted his gift...and actually liked it well enough to keep it. He had used the most appealing flask he could find in his cupboards, clear with a slightly pink cast to the glass, a rounded bottom, and a tapering neck. He uncorked the flask and sniffed once more, then nodded before restoppering it and sealing it with the yellow wax, bringing the wax seal all the way down the neck of the flask so that even after it had been uncorked, the coloured wax would still decorate it.

He normally didn't do such frivolous brewing, but as soon as he had stepped into his lab, he had the idea for the potion and knew that it was just the thing for that night's brewing. He had been as exacting as if he had been brewing Draught of Living Death or Dreamless Sleep, and he'd been at it for over three hours. Part of that time had been taken running out to Greenhouse One and completely denuding one of Pomona's rosebushes of its blooms. Because of the method he was using to extract the scent, he hadn't really needed quite as much as he had taken, but he had thought that it was better to have too much on hand than to have too little. He would have to explain something to Pomona about her rosebush, he supposed. He hoped she hadn't had any plans for that particular bush, but of the half-dozen rosebushes that bore blooms, that was the one that had the most pleasing scent.

There was a little bit of the base potion remaining, and Severus thought that if Poppy liked this one...and if she was still speaking to him...he might make her some shampoo, as well.

Poppy had slept fitfully, and when Mrs Framingham entered the painting in her bedroom to announce she had a visitor, she was even less happy than she normally would be at being woken at . . . at four-thirty in the morning?

Suddenly aware that it had to be an emergency at that hour, Poppy sprang out of bed, her heart pounding at the sudden surge of adrenalin. She stepped into her slippers and was still putting her arms into the sleeves of her bathrobe when she entered the sitting room and waved her wand to open the door to the hall. She stopped stock-still, one arm in her robe and one arm still partway out.

"Severus?"

Severus took a tentative step into the sitting room.

"Is there an emergency in Slytherin? Or did Suzie Sefton manage to eat too many sweets before bed again?" She could see that he had only put a teaching robe on over his nightshirt, and his ankles were bare above his slippered feet.

"Neither." He paused. "You told me once, quite a while ago, that if I ever needed to talk, I could come see you, day or night." He swallowed.

Poppy blinked. "Yes, yes, I did." She finished putting on her bathrobe, tying its sash around her waist.

"Is the offer still . . . valid? I mean to say, that was during the war, and before . . . before everything."

"Of course. Yes. Come in." Poppy closed the door behind him. She was confused, to say the least. "Have a seat," she said, gesturing toward the sofa. "I can call for some tea or coffee, if you like."

"No. That's fine." Severus stepped further into the room as Poppy sat down in the armchair to the right of the sofa.

"Couldn't sleep?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"Nightmares? I could give you some Dreamless Sleep, if you like. Not for tonight," she added, glancing at the clock, "it's too late now, but for tomorrow."

"I have a small store of it. I try not to take it very often," Severus replied, finally sitting down on the edge of the couch. "But it wasn't nightmares about the past that kept me awake." He took in a breath. "You see, I was worried about something, something I'd done. I think I hurt the feelings of someone whom I care about, someone very important to me, and it weighed on my mind."

"I see," Poppy said. She wasn't completely sure she did see, however. Was he talking about her, or about someone else?

"Yes. You see, I felt . . . I believed that the person was behaving rudely to me, so I was rude in return. Except the person wasn't being rude, not really, and not intentionally, I'm sure. But I was deliberately rude. I didn't think about my behaviour at the time, I just . . . reacted, but it was still deliberate," Severus explained.

"Well, perhaps if you were to apologise, the person would understand. And if the person hurt your feelings without intending to, I'm sure that he, or she, would want to know."

"Do you think she might accept a gift? Would that show that I'm sincere?"

"It might be nice, but I'm sure that if this person is a friend, she'll understand without your having to give her anything." Was he speaking of Hermione, or of her, or of someone else altogether?

"I hope that she's a friend." Severus reached into the large hidden pocket of his robe and pulled out a flask. He held it out to her. "I'm sorry, Poppy," he said softly. "I hope I didn't hurt your feelings. I'm sorry I was unpleasant to you yesterday evening. I was just upset about something."

Poppy took the flask from him. She looked from the flask back up to his eyes. "I don't know what to say."

"Why didn't you want to talk to me?" Severus asked, trying not to sound whiny.

"Not want to talk to you?" Poppy looked confused. "I'm sorry, Severus, but it's only four-thirty in the morning, and I'm afraid I'm not following you. When? You mean about your meeting when you got back from Arthur's?"

Severus looked down at his feet. "I mean . . . at all. At lunch. At dinner. And then you didn't want me to come see you after Weasley, either."

"It's not that I didn't want to talk to you. I just didn't have a chance. And you weren't very pleasant in our meeting, although I still actually did hope you might come by to see me, just not about Hogwarts business, and that was despite the way you left."

"You didn't tell me you're going away for the holiday. I thought we were working together over Easter."

"I only just decided it this morning...yesterday morning. Pomona talked me into it. It's only for a few days and won't interfere with our project. I didn't even have a chance to tell you. I would have after dinner during our meeting, but you were so brusque and formal, and you obviously didn't want to talk to me about anything other than Hogwarts business, then the way you left . . ."

"You didn't speak with me during lunch, and then you didn't sit next to me at dinner. It felt like you were avoiding me," Severus said softly.

"In just one day?" Poppy asked, her eyebrows raised in astonishment. "Severus, we often go long stretches without speaking with each other. I just thought . . . we're supposed to be behaving normally around each other in public. And then you were so rude last evening after dinner, and I had no idea what I'd done, especially after the intimacy and warmth of the night before."

"I said I was sorry." He looked up at her. "I am."

"And I'm sorry if you felt that I was avoiding you. I hadn't intended it. And I never would have thought it would matter to you."

Severus shrugged. "It didn't, not really. I just . . . I had certain expectations, and I hadn't slept well the night before . . . I'd had nightmares . . . I felt . . . that it didn't matter to you, that I didn't matter . . ."

"Of course you matter to me! You know, I wish you had said something to me when we met yesterday evening. We could have cleared this up easily. I did consider sitting next to you at dinner, but I thought it might be better for us both if we didn't."

"Why? I don't think anyone would notice. Except Minerva, and she already knows that we're . . . we're . . ."

"You see, that's just it, Severus," Poppy said. "What are we doing? We said it was just a tryst, and then it became more, but you don't want a relationship...and I understand that. We're not anything, really. Friends, I suppose, but I can't imagine any of my other friends being so upset about my sitting beside Minerva instead of them, or delaying telling them that I'm going away for a few days. And if we were more than friends, well, behaviour like that, it's just not good."

"I . . . I haven't much experience with friendships. Or anything else." He snorted. "And this is why. I'm terrible at it."

"I don't know, Severus . . . but you know, whether we were just friends or were something more than that, I would expect to be treated better. To have you talk to me, to at least let me know what you thought I'd done. You have treated me very well in so many ways, but then you leapt to conclusions and were very unfair to me."

"I said I was sorry."

"I know." She lifted the flask and looked at it. "What is this?"

"Your bath soap was rose-scented, so I thought you might like a rose-scented lotion for after. It should keep your skin soft and supple." He blushed. "Which it already is, of course."

"Thank you. That's very thoughtful of you. Did you brew it?"

He nodded. "Just tonight. So it should stay stoppered and allowed to set for at least twenty-four hours before you use it for the first time. I wanted to give it to you as soon as possible, though."

Poppy grinned slightly. "I see that." She glanced at the clock. "Now that we're up and quite awake, would you like some tea or coffee?"

Severus shook his head. "I should be going. You could probably still get a little more sleep. I should have waited to see you, but I . . . it bothered me," he admitted.

"It bothered me, as well," Poppy said softly. "After the other night, Delancie's and all we did after, I couldn't understand why you would suddenly behave as you did."

Severus looked away, his expression shuttered and unreadable. Finally he said softly, "I had been looking forward to seeing you, and I was jealous. I was jealous of the time you spent with Pomona, and of your holiday plans with her. I understand that now, but I still feel as though you were avoiding talking to me, especially when you didn't sit next to me at dinner." He raised his gaze to meet Poppy's.

"Maybe I was avoiding you, just a little, but not the way you imply. I thought it best if we tried harder to behave normally around each other. The last week . . . the last week was very intense for us both. It seemed wise to do what we had both agreed we were going to do: behave no differently in public than usual. And now, that seems an even wiser decision."

"You mean . . . you don't want to be seen in public with me?" Pain was evident in his voice and his posture.

"No, of course not! We just went to Delancie's together the other night. You can hardly get more public than that. I just think . . . obviously you put more import on my actions than you normally would, and then the way that you reacted...it really did hurt my feelings, Severus, I will be honest with you about that. It bothered me more than it should have. We can't go on as we have done."

"You want to stop seeing me," Severus said flatly. "In private, not in public."

"I . . . I don't want that, but I think it's best. For us both. For a while, anyway. Just for a while. So we can cool down a bit, think about things."

"I apologised," Severus said, standing. "I apologised, and still . . ." He shook his head and turned away. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair at all.

"Oh, Severus, I do appreciate the apology. And I understand. But I just . . . I am afraid we will hurt each other if we continue as we have done." She stood and placed her hand on his back. "Don't you think it's for the best?"

He shrugged and stepped away from her. "It doesn't matter what I think. I ought to go now. Since we're in private."

"Severus, that's not what I meant and you know it."

"Do you regret it all now?" he asked softly, still not looking at her.

"No. No, I don't," she said firmly. "I regret yesterday. I wish we could undo yesterday. But we can't, and it's probably just as well, since it showed us . . . it showed us that we can't go on this way."

"It's my fault. If I hadn't been jealous, if I had just let you be, you wouldn't feel this way. We could still see each other."

"It's that important to you? It's just a fling. It was supposed to be just a fling."

He turned around. He looked down at her, raising his right hand to her cheek. "It doesn't feel like a fling. I don't know what I want, but I don't want less. I want more. I want more. I know that you don't, but you wanted honesty from me, and that's the truth. I wanted you to sit next to me at dinner, and when you didn't, I was more than just a little disappointed. I was angry. I shouldn't have been. I know that. But it's because . . . because I wanted more, and yet I couldn't even have that, I couldn't even have your company during dinner."

Poppy met his gaze and her breath hitched. "Severus, I..."

Her words were cut off by his lips on hers, then his left arm went around her, pulling her close to him. She raised her hands to his shoulders, fighting with herself not to return his kiss, but submitting to him and losing her struggle with herself.

His right hand went around behind her head as he deepened the kiss.

"Mmm . . ." Poppy finally broke away, turning her head to the side. "Oh, Severus . . . we shouldn't."

"Why?" he asked, his voice rough in her ear. "Because it's not a fling any longer? I know I should run from here. I didn't want more than a fling, myself. I didn't even want a fling. I didn't even want to make love to you once. I never dreamed we would." He kissed her hair and his left hand massaged her buttocks. "But then you followed me down to my rooms that night, and we made love. Whatever we say about how it was just a casual fling, or what I may have said about it being just fucking, we made love, Poppy, you and I. And I didn't even know it."

Poppy pushed away from him, but his arms held her tightly. "Severus, let me go, please."

Severus kissed the side of her neck once more, but then he released her and stepped back.

"Am I wrong?" he asked.

"No, no, you're not wrong," Poppy replied softly. "But that doesn't mean that we . . . that we should keep going as we have done. I need to think, Severus, and so do you. You didn't even want a fling with me, remember? You said that yourself just now. Are you so sure you want more? And I don't know at all what I want. I do know that you are young yet, and that you deserve more than just a fling with an older colleague. There's nothing wrong with that, but you . . . you have known so little of life other than pain and violence. This has been a very intense time for us both. I don't know that you're really feeling what you think you are...and I don't even really know what that is. But I think that we both need to think about this."

Severus nodded and stepped back. "I see. I do see. And you are right. If you weren't, I doubt I would even be here now, either with my peace offering or even with any reason for apology. You are right." He let out a slow breath and lowered his eyes. "That does not mean that I will be happy about not seeing you."

"I didn't say that we couldn't see each other at all. Obviously, if we can't . . . can't be alone together easily, we might want to avoid that. At least outside of necessary Hogwarts business. But I don't see why we couldn't still . . . sit together at dinner, if we have the opportunity. Or go to the Quidditch matches together. We are friends. We were friends before all this. We could just become better friends whilst we're thinking about the other. Your friendship is important to me, and you're important to me. I think . . . I believe that once you've considered it, you'll see that's for the best for you. There are so many other witches for you to be with, Severus. Ones who are more appropriate than I am."

"I don't see that you're inappropriate for me...although the reverse is certainly true." He took in a deep breath and sighed. "But my jealousy and possessiveness have already created trouble for us. I will try to behave better in the future."

"And we can take a break from our . . . our fling for a while? Not just saying we will as we have done in the past, but really? I think that the intensity of the last week has caused us both to, well, it's probably best if we cool off and think about our options, don't you think?"

Severus shrugged.

"Why don't we just leave the subject for now? We can talk again."

"All right. Although if you've made up your mind, there's nothing I can see to talk about. It's not as though I can force you to continue. It wouldn't be the same if I tried to." He was being dumped, he thought. Kindly dumped, but dumped. Served him right, after the way he had treated Hermione. At least Poppy had never asked him out on a date, said she wanted to date him exclusively, and then changed her mind completely, as he had with Hermione.

"Let's just see." She rubbed his arm. "I do appreciate the lotion, you know. And the apology. I understand, Severus."

"Never mind. It's my own fault." He backed toward the door, and she dropped her arm.

"I'll see you at breakfast?"

He nodded.

"Remember that I won't be at dinner tonight. I'm seeing Healer Glyndwr."

He nodded again.

Poppy smiled. "I just don't want you to think I'm avoiding you."

"Of course."

"Severus, can we have a deal? Let's agree that if either of us feels something is wrong, we will talk about it? Let's try to avoid misunderstandings in the future, if we can."

"I am not good at such things."

"You can try. And you did nicely this morning. It's important to me. Because you're important to me." She stepped toward him and touched his arm lightly.

"Mm. I will see you later." It hadn't mattered: his apology hadn't made any difference.

Poppy nodded. After he had closed the door behind him, she whispered. "And I am sorry, too, Severus. But it's for your good, too. It's better this way for us both."

NEXT

Chapter Fifty-Seven: Making it Through the Week

Tuesday, 16 March 1999; Friday, 19 March 1999

Severus manages to make it through the week, though not happily.

Rated M.

Characters: Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Poppy Pomfrey, Olivia Ouellette