Denied

Chapter 12 – Denied

Please check out Chapter three. There is a picture made by beaweasley2.

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It had all come undone. Lupin’s suspicions had been accurate. The facts were still cloudy, but all Snape could think about was that Sirius Black was free, Pettigrew had really betrayed the Potters, not Sirius, and Harry was as proud as a peacock now that he had his godfather alive and close to him. Snape had been terrified Black would tell Harry about his mother, but Lupin had assured him the Wizard’s Oath Dumbledore made them all take had been clever enough to circumvent that possibility.

Each time Snape looked at Harry, he felt jealousy. He should be the one Harry should look up to and want to be around. Well, he had burnt that bridge years ago, but it still didn’t make the pain any less. Each night as he rocked in Harry’s old bedroom reliving the memories that he had replayed repeatedly, Lily and Harry came to life in his mind. He had kept one toy. It was a stupid, little, stuffed duck. It had been one of Harry’s favorites and had been left behind by Minerva’s hasty packing. He had considered tossing it into the fire and watching it slowly burn, but he couldn’t bear to not have anything of his little boy to hold and remember. He wished more and more these days that he could tell him why he was so cruel, why he made life so hard for him. Harry needed to be tough; he needed to be aware that the prophecy was still in effect. It wasn’t over. The Dark Lord would rise again, and Harry needed to be prepared. Therefore, Snape did what he could.

Lupin left that summer. Snape made no excuses or apologies. He had leaked the fact the man was a werewolf. In reality, he hated that Lupin had been right. He also had played a part in reuniting Harry with Black. He could not forgive that betrayal! Black would make sure that Harry would never see him than just an ugly, hateful, waste of life.

It hurt more than he could ever tell. He spent the summer looking forward to meeting Moira in Knockturn Alley. Soon, they were meeting in Diagon Alley. She had gotten a position at Flourish and Blotts as a saleswitch. She had a real knack for sales she had said with a blush. Snape had given her a small smile. He was pleased she had retained her virginal air about her. No one who ever need know she had tried her hand at prostitution. At least that was one consolation: he hadn’t permanently done damage to the girl.

Moira was becoming more important to him than he had ever thought possible. She was plain, but the brightness in her eyes as she talked about her job and her future plans made her face light up with a soft glow. She wasn’t pretty, but there was something about her that was pleasant on the eyes when she talked. She wasn’t smart, as she had not been formally educated; however, Snape found her to be relaxing, and she did not mind his company. When August rolled around, Snape realized he had been seeing Moira every week now for four months.

He thought about her often now. She had nice brown hair, and a lovely figure, despite her face. Snape mused if perhaps in time he could have a real relationship with her. She was nineteen, young and naïve, but she had a nature to survive and adapt. He wondered and pondered as they continued to meet, if he could gather the courage to ask her if she would have anything to do with him. They had never touched again since that one fateful night when he had taken her virginity. He at times wanted to touch her hand, just to see if she would want his affections without money or strings attached. She had stopped taking money from him, insisting that she was self-sufficient in her own right. She had offered to pay back the money he had given her, but he had stoutly refused. He said it had been his pleasure to help a witch to get on her feet again and back in respectable society.

Not that being associated with me will help her chances! he had thought harshly.

At times, he wondered if he should just call it a day, wish her well, and be done with her. She didn’t need the likes of him, and she probably only still met with him out of obligation, not out of a feeling of regard or affection. He wanted to ask her if she would consider going on a date with him, but he couldn’t seem to get his nerve up. She remained distant physically, but still met and chatted with him about her latest adventures, friends she had made, books she had come across. She wanted to learn, so she decided to educate herself as much as she could. Sometimes she would bring a list of questions, and he would patiently answer them one by one. They were terribly simple questions that betrayed her ignorance. However, she wanted to learn and make something of her life. He could respect that.

He began that fall to dream about her. He found himself looking at her figure during their visits. He wished he had taken his time with her during their first encounter. He wanted to know what her breasts felt like, how her lips tasted, and what she looked like when she climaxed. He knew he was feeling things that he had warned himself repeatedly he should never feel. He chided himself that it could only bring heartbreak and pain, but he couldn’t help himself. He was going to tell her of his interest the next time they met.

He was so nervous as he waited for her outside her flat. He had brought flowers. He felt like a damn fool, but witches liked flowers, so he thought it could only work in his favor. Perhaps it would take away from her looking at his face as he asked her for a date.

She came down, and she looked lovely in light pink robes. She blushed as he gave her the flowers, and they walked to the café they had started to frequent during their visits. Halfway there, she stopped and looked nervously at him.

“Mr. Snape,” she began.

“Please, I would prefer if you would call me Severus,” he asked eagerly.

‘Um, I am feeling strange, as if something has changed. Is there something you would like to tell me?” she asked timidly.

Snape was extremely agitated and unsure of himself. “I had hoped to do this at the café, not in the middle of the street; however, yes, Moira, I would like to speak with you about my intentions,” he said bluntly.

She nodded as if she were expecting what he was about to say.

“I would very much like the opportunity to take you out on a real date. I find you very relaxing to be around, lovely in your determination to better your life, and your ability to adapt to new circumstances is inspiring. Would you be interested in pursuing a new level in our relationship?”

Moira lowered her head. “Severus, I was going to speak with you about something different entirely. I’ve met someone. He’s a wonderful man that I work with. He was a student of yours a few years back. His name is Gregory McKnight.”

Severus remembered Mr. McKnight very well. He had been quite the wizard on campus: a Ravenclaw, decent at Potions, and quite the looker. He had the witches fawning over him whilst he had been a student.

“Yes, I recall Mr. McKnight,” he said graciously.

“He was shocked when I told him I knew you. Of course, I didn’t tell him the whole extent of our association, just that you had been kind to me when I told you about my brother.” She looked guilty, and Snape sensed she wasn’t being entirely forthright.

“Moira, tell me the rest, don’t be afraid,” he said calmly.

“Well, he said that you should feel guilty, that you are a Death Eater. He said that I shouldn’t see you anymore because it could be bad for me. I mean, you could have been there that night! I really like Gregory, Severus. He is so handsome and sweet, and he is working towards becoming a Healer! He really gets me and is so open and attentive. I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done. You’ve been a good friend to me, but I need to say goodbye.”

She handed him his flowers back, and she dashed back towards her flat.