XVIII: The Girl He Once Knew

Thanks to JKR for some amazing characters, to GuitarBoy and AppleBlossomfor beta reading and to you for reading and reviewing.

Chapter XVIII: The Girl He Once Knew

'Severus.'

He awoke with a jerk. His gaze darted around the room, looking for the origin of the voice that had interrupted his sleep. But there was no one in his room. Of course not, it had just been a dream. But why? Why had her voice entered his dreams now?

He hadn't seen Morgaine for more than three years, not since the night they had spent together in the very same bed he was lying in now. She had been gone when he had woken up the next morning. And although it had been three years, Severus still didn't understand why she had left.

With a sigh, he let his head fall back onto the pillow. He had been over the events of their night together over and over again. Had he pressured her? Had he misread her? Had she left because she regretted their night together? But no matter how he racked his brain, he could not understand why he had woken up alone that morning, why Morgaine had left without saying goodbye.

He had received an owl from her only days after the end of term. He had ripped the letter open as soon as he had recognised her handwriting, hoping for an explanation. But she had only written to let him know that she had arrived safely at her grandmother's. And he had chosen not to reply. Because the only thing he had wanted to ask her was why she had left in the dead of night, and that was the only question he hadn't dared asking.

The next time she had written to him had been a couple of months later, at the start of term. She had sent him a bottle of peppermint-scented Headache Potion. That had made him smile, but again he had not replied.

Once a month, an owl had arrived. Morgaine had always let him know where she was and what she was doing. She sent him dried plants and herbs for his potions, from Iceland, Greece, Egypt, and Romania. She had been studying hard to expand her knowledge of magic, and Severus had been proud of her. But still, he hadn't replied, not once.

And then, a year ago, she had stopped writing, and Severus felt that he couldn't blame her for it. Why would she continue sending him owls? He had never replied to any of her letters.

Oh, he had wanted to. He had started to write a dozen of them. He had even finished some. But he had never sent them. None of them had done any justice to the way he felt for her. However hard he had tried, he had not been able to put his feelings into words; he had not been able to phrase how much he missed her; his words just sounded silly to him. And in the end, he had given up. And now, all his unsent letters were lying, neatly folded, in the bottom drawer of his nightstand, together with the letters she had sent. There was also the very first letter she had sent to him years ago, when she had been at St. Mungo's. She had made fun of his breakfast habits then.

Severus didn't know why he kept the letters. He never re-read them. But every time he picked them up to throw them away, his hands started to shake, and in the end, he always put them back into the drawer.

He sighed. Three years had passed, one year without any kind of contact. And now, Morgaine's voice had ripped him out of his sleep. Why?

Finally, he decided that there was no point pondering, so he got up and dressed. In his mind, he went over the day to come. Tonight, the students would arrive. And not just any students. Harry Potter would be among them. The famous Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the boy who vanquished the Dark Lord, the son of blasted James Potter.

Severus felt his mood dropping.

Dumbledore had come to see him after his return to Hogwarts two weeks ago. He had reminded him of a promise he had given a decade ago, that he would help protect Potter's son. No, not Potter's son, Severus corrected himself, but Lily's. The son of the woman to whom he had given his heart when he had been just a boy. The woman he still held dear although she had turned away from him.

He still did not know what the boy needed protection from, though. The Dark Lord had gone, and his followers were locked up in Azkaban or keeping a low profile. What dangers were there to the boy? And why would Dumbledore think that he of all people would be able to protect the boy from anything? He hadn't been able to protect Lily either.

Severus cast a look into the mirror. The lines around his eyes and on his forehead were becoming deeper, his skin had a sickly, pale tone, and his hair was hanging around his face like curtains of black velvet. He sighed. He knew what kind of nicknames the students had given him. Overgrown bat was one, and he could certainly see their point.

Frowning, he gave his reflection a last disapproving glance and then started his way to the headmaster's office.

Dumbledore always held a staff meeting on the morning of September first. Not so much as to discuss new students or the year's curriculum, but more to get his teachers together for some friendly chatting. Severus hated these meetings. He felt no need whatsoever to share his summer anecdotes with his colleagues. Not that he had anything to tell anyway. His summer had been a drag, as usual. And he would have preferred to spend his last student-free day in his study, enjoying those last blissful hours of peace. But he knew that Dumbledore would personally come and drag him to the meeting if he didn't show up.

They were all already there when he entered the headmaster's office. McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwick, Hagrid - all of them stood with their backs to the door, chatting animatedly. There was the smell of freshly-baked crumpets and newly-brewed tea hanging in the air, as there was every year.

Severus felt his stomach lurch. He hated breakfast passionately, and today, even the smell of it was too much. But then he caught a whiff of another scent. It was the scent of sandalwood and honey.

He stopped dead in his tracks. He knew this scent, but he was sure that he was imagining things, just as he had imagined hearing her voice. She couldn't possibly be here.

Then he saw the golden-red shimmer of her chestnut hair, her blue eyes, and her smile. He had missed Morgaine's smile so much and now, there she was, smiling at him.

'Ah, Severus, finally,' Dumbledore's voice pulled Severus out of his trance. 'We were just about to come looking for you. Have a crumpet.'

'You do remember Morgaine, I assume?' Dumbledore asked, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

What a stupid thing to ask. Of course Severus remembered her. He wouldn't forget her in a thousand years. He had, however, not expected to see her. He cleared his throat and took the hand that she had extended towards him.

'Miss duLac.' He kept his voice cold, his expression stern. He didn't want her to know just how surprised he was to see her.

'Professor Snape.'

Her blue eyes locked onto his dark, and for a fraction of a second, Severus felt her mind brush his, softly, whispering, like spring's first warm breeze brushes the frozen grounds. Swiftly, he fortified his mental barriers, suddenly feeling hurt. He would not let her inside his armour today. She had lost the right to share his thoughts the night she had abandoned him.

'Now, why so formal, you two?' Dumbledore said as he put his hand on Severus' shoulder. 'Morgaine is not your student anymore, you know. She's your colleague now, dear Severus.'

'Colleague?' Severus tried hard not to sound surprised. He was, however, not sure if he was succeeding.

'Ah, yes, you were not here yet when I told the others,' Dumbledore continued. 'Morgaine will join the staff this year. She has decided to take up teaching and will work as a teacher's assistant this year to learn the trade. It will be your turn to take care of her in January, I think.'

Severus just nodded in acknowledgement. And to his own surprise, he had still not let go of Morgaine's hand.

~ ~ ~

He was so cold, so distant. The man who was standing in front of me in Dumbledore's office that September morning wasn't the Severus Snape I remembered. He had never been very cordial, but now he seemed not only reserved but also cold and distant. He had changed. He looked older. There were deep lines in his forehead. He had obviously been frowning a lot over the last three years.

I had myself to blame for that. Three years ago, I had chosen to give him his freedom. I had no right to demand his affections now. But I have to admit that it hurt to be rejected.

~ ~ ~

Severus returned to his private chambers after the staff meeting. Seeing Morgaine had bewildered him more that he wanted to admit even to himself. Now he needed time to think and get himself together.

He had been staring at her the whole morning from his place by the window. The contours of her face had become more distinct, she carried herself taller, and her hair wasn't as unruly as it had been when she was a teenager.

But the look in her eyes was still the same. She had been looking at him the same way she had three years ago, with those blue eyes that seemed to be able to look right into his very soul. But this time, he had not let her in – he had shut her out. She did not have the right to see into his mind anymore.

Without even noticing, he had opened the bottom drawer of his nightstand and taken out the pile of letters. He stared blankly at them, a thousand questions zooming around in his mind.

Why had Morgaine left? Why had she not said goodbye? Why had she abandoned him?

Severus didn't have an answer to any of these questions, and he definitely did not know how he was going to conduct himself around her.

He wanted to embrace her and tell her all the things that he had been unable to write down. He wanted to tell her how much he had missed her, how much she meant to him. And at the same time, he wanted to push her away, because he was afraid that she might, once more, be gone when he woke up in the morning.