Chapter Five: Quidditch The atmosphere was crackling with excitement the next day. Everyone was looking forward to the tryouts, and those who were going to be participating in them later walked around looking excited, but still nervous. The entire thing made me vaguely remember how I had felt the morning of a Quidditch Match and made me smile. I gave up trying to teach at all, for no amount of threats would make them calm down and pay attention. Not even the threat of failing them in the next test worked and that was a miracle in itself.
Madam Hooch had told me beforehand to arrive down at the pitch early, so after wolfing down a quick lunch, I made my way down to the Quidditch Pitch. Madam Hooch was standing next to the box that held the Quidditch balls, waiting patiently. I greeted her cheerfully upon walking up and she returned it calmly. I think she was mentally preparing herself for the invasion of so many students in a few minutes.
We talked politely until the remaining members of the House Teams came up, ten minutes before lunch ended. The Gryffindor team immediately came up and started talking to me. They were remarking on who they thought might be talented, when students began crowding into the pitch, both as hopefuls and supporters. Instantly all talk stopped and I watched as each of the four teams instantly became businesslike. It was quite a fascinating transformation.
Hufflepuff was the first House to have their tryouts. The current Gryffindor captain, Thomas Oak from Fourth Year, explained about the talent of each hopeful as they applied for their desired position. Thomas turned out to be extremely informative and knowledgeable about all of them. I was strongly reminded of Wood.
“That’s Hilda Cummings; speedy and quick, good on turns and sudden twists, but she’s absolutely rotten for correctly judging the moment to catch the Quaffle, see? Jon Kingfisher; alarmingly good at hitting the Bludgers to the right people, he’ll probably make it to the team all right. Sara Ironshield; she’s practically a blur when she flies and she’s got incredible eyesight. She was a reserve last year and she got the Snitch every time they let her try. She’ll make it as well...” And so on. By the time Hufflepuff had finished, I felt I knew everyone of them better than a week and a half of teaching them. I made a decision that if Thomas knew this much about other people, I would have to ask a few specific questions of my own about certain people.
Ravenclaw went then, and again Thomas gave me a startlingly good account of each hopeful. I was beginning to spot the talented ones from the hopeful ones myself, by then; my old habits and knowledge were beginning to return to me and I could spot the spark hints in students again. I started murmuring whom I thought would be good choices by then and was surprised and pleased to learn that Thomas had much the same thoughts as myself. Madam Hooch caught my eye and gave me a rare smile, which I returned.
Thomas left me then because Gryffindor was next. I watched all the hopefuls for my old House with narrowed eyes, silently noting everything they did and didn’t do. By the time they were finished, I had my own private list of whom I thought were good enough to be on the team. Thomas immediately came over to me when their turn was finished and started urgently comparing the team’s hopefuls to mine. We agreed in nearly all of them, except one and a quiet argument began.
“She is good, I’ll give you that,” I said, on the subject of Sasha Kingsown, “but she hesitates far too much. From what I’ve seen and noted of her just now and in class, she has severe low self-esteem. Having no confidence in herself isn’t going to help her one bit in the middle of a game -- it’ll cause her to make mistakes, stupid ones. If you put her as one of the Chasers now, she’ll probably drop the Quaffle from fright every time in the game and the Chasers need to be able to work as One. There can’t be any hesitations in a game. If I had a choice, I’d invite her to watch practises with you this year and maybe give her some extra coaching if you can fit it in. Try and build up her confidence desperately. I think she was bullied badly a year or two ago and that probably shattered her. Do that and see what happens next year.” I finally stopped for breath and felt sheepish. I hadn’t meant to say so much.
But Thomas looked impressed. “That sounds good, actually,” he muttered thoughtfully, his eyes narrowed in concentration. “I’ll talk about it with the team but your advice sounds good. You’re right about the hesitation and low self-esteem -- she’s renowned for it and her year have been trying to build up her confidence ever since they discovered the bullying incident. Thanks, sir.” He smiled at me, before hurrying back to his team, who were huddled together and deep in conversation, no doubt debating over the hopefuls.
I turned my attentions back to the tryouts, then, for Slytherin was finally beginning. I seemed to have a bad feeling about this, though I had no idea why, really. Just an uneasy feeling in my gut and I had learned to trust my gut feelings over the years.
They were good. They were very, very good and there was no denying it. I remembered what Lavender had told me about the Slytherins changing and from the talent I could see, that seemed to be partially true. It seemed they didn’t go for bribes and size instead of talent anymore and I’m afraid I had mixed feelings. A good Slytherin side meant problems for the Gryffindors and my old House loyalties were springing up again.
It was easy to remember the arguments that had sprung up between Snape and myself back in the old days, when Slytherin had once again been pounded by Gryffindor in the latest match. To say there had been ice between us had been no exaggeration.
The last hopeful had finished his try; tryouts were basically over. The rest of the school would now return to their classes and the teams would be given another few minutes of discussion before they too, would return to normal class. The current Slytherin team had begun to huddle together and the students had started to trudge back up towards the school, when a voice rang out, calm and clear. I froze.
“I’d like to try, please, if it’s not too much trouble.”
It was Callidus. Everyone turned to stare at him, from the teachers, to the students, to the teams themselves. If Callidus was uncomfortable about everyone simply gawking at him, he didn’t show it. He didn’t seem ruffled in the slightest; he only continued calmly walking up to the astonished Slytherin team, his broom in his hand. “Is it all right if I try?” he asked again, his voice indifferent. Something fluttered uncomfortably in my stomach and I realised this had been what I had been nervous about and I didn’t like it one bit. I didn’t even want to think about why I had been uneasy in the first place.
The Slytherin Captain blinked once, twice, before turning to look at Madam Hooch, who rapidly recovered herself. “I see no reason why not. What position do you wish to try for?”
Callidus’ frozen sapphire eyes flicked to me for a moment, before returning to look at Madam Hooch. I hadn’t missed it; it had been all the warning I’d needed. Already guessing what position he wanted to play, I gritted my teeth and prepared myself for the answer.
“Seeker, please.”
These two words had the effect of a bombshell. Excited chatter exploded among the students. The teachers murmured to each other, looking uncomfortable. Madam Hooch went completely still. All of the four teams glanced at me, before returning to stare at Callidus, who was still waiting for the Snitch to be released. I froze, my hands twisting into tense fists, before closing my eyes, breathing deeply in a desperate attempt to remain calm.
I heard myself talking before I realised I was even thinking of doing it. “Very well, then.” All eyes immediately turned to me, Callidus’ included. My eyes snapping open, I walked to the box, opening it and taking out the Snitch carefully. Its wings unfurled and tickled my palm in a familiar way that was almost comforting. I indicated the centre of the pitch. “Mount there, please.” As Callidus walked over to the proper spot, I released the Snitch into the air. If Callidus couldn’t catch it, we could always find one of the other Seekers still on one of the teams to catch it, or I could do it myself. It would magically stay in the pitch anyway, so it couldn’t go far.
I knew I had missed something and received the wrong end of the stick entirely, when Callidus kicked off from the ground and rose upwards in a blur. I did a double-take, straining upwards to see him. Finding that my eyesight was considerably poor due to his speed, I hurried back to Madam Hooch and wrestled her binoculars from her. It took quite a fight because of her wish to watch him as well. I fought to keep up with Callidus, who was well and truly a blurred shape that zoomed through the air.
And then I spotted it -- the Snitch.
It was quite close to the ground, flitting and zigzagging along the nearest set of goal-posts to us, a golden smudge that definitely did not want to be caught. A surge of excitement coursed through me and I had to remind myself that I wasn’t a Seeker anymore, that it wasn’t my duty to catch it anymore, though the habit was still there. Instead, I gritted my teeth and wondered if Callidus had seen it by now.
He had.
Before it had even entered my mind to look back at him again, Callidus launched into a spectacular dive, the type I had attempted when I had been desperate and running out of time in a match. Several people screamed in abrupt surprise when he plummeted, an unidentifiable streak with his robes billowing out behind him as he rushed through the air at a dangerous speed, his hair pulled back from his forehead because of the strong breeze that pressed against him. He came closer and closer towards us, showing no sign of stopping or slowing down in any way. A sudden twinge of fear entered my shoulders, as I frowned, trying to see him closely and failing. Was he going to crash...?
He wasn’t. As I watched, he shot back up into the air four feet from the ground, his legs skimming the grass for long moments, before he zoomed back into the sky, his hand raised in victory. Even without the proper use of binoculars, I could see the glint of gold clutched tightly in his fist. He had caught the Snitch... in six minutes.
I was so astonished I felt like I was going to keel over.
For several moments I just stood there, blinking, trying to get what had happened to register with me. And then it finally hit me what he had done and my jaw dropped, as my knees shook slightly. He had caught the Snitch in six minutes... and he was only a First Year. And he was going to be a Seeker.
Callidus Riddle had gone ahead and done what had only barely crossed my mind -- he had gone and done something similar to what I had done in my First Year. I wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or fearful. There were so many parallels between the two of us and yet, at the same time, there were so many differences. Callidus was rightly confusing me so that I simply didn’t know what to think anymore. I gulped, wordlessly handing Madam Hooch’s binoculars back to her. I was glad that she looked as shocked and stunned as me.
I walked forward as Callidus landed smoothly and handed the Snitch back to me, his face calm and indifferent, despite all that he had just done. “Very good,” I murmured quietly to him, accepting the struggling golden ball from him. “I am distinctly impressed. I haven’t seen that much talent in someone for a very long time now.” He looked up at me, obviously not expecting that from me. Neither had I, for that matter.
And then -- just for a fleeting moment, so fleeting I almost wondered if I had imagined it -- I swore the corners of Callidus’ lips jerked up in a smile. But then it was gone almost as quickly as it had come. While I still tried to recover, he nodded to me, turned and started to walk back up towards the school, ignoring the stares from his fellow students in a way that could almost be called deliberate.
A dropping pin could have been heard in the pitch, everyone had gone so quiet. They simply stared at the walking boy who had his head down low, tactfully avoiding all of their stares. And then, the Slytherin Captain started clapping, slowly and levelly. After a few seconds, the rest of the team followed suit and after that, it seemed that the entire school -- teachers and students -- were clapping him, their applause thundering through the air and deafening me. I did not clap, I simply watched him go, a slight frown on my face as I tried to think, which wasn’t easy with all the noise. My opinion of the boy was quickly changing, seemingly not of my own accord either. And it seemed, for the moment, that the school had accepted Callidus. For a few minutes it didn’t matter that he was a Riddle, or a Slytherin, or a loner; he was liked. I wasn’t sure how long that would last, however.
“We’ll have to be careful of him,” a voice said quietly, and I jumped in surprise. I hadn’t heard Thomas coming up to stand beside me over the roar of the applause. I glanced at him and noted the pale colour of his face and the wariness in his eyes. “He’s almost as good as you were.”
“No,” I replied quietly, returning to watch the shrinking figure of Callidus as he grew closer to the school and further away from me. Thomas stared at me in surprise, as I continued, “He is as good as me.” Thomas didn’t give me any answer, not that I had expected any from him.
I gave the Snitch back to Madam Hooch and turned to go back to the castle myself, along with the excited, chattering crowds of students. I’d only taken a few steps when my eyes locked with Snape’s. We said nothing, as was our custom by now, only looked at each other, our eyes searching for answers we weren’t sure we wanted to know. I was dimly glad to see that he looked just as shaken and surprised as me, and there was definitely shock and wariness in those dark eyes. Apparently, Snape didn’t know what to make of Callidus either.
I nodded to him, before turning and making my way up towards the school. I could feel his eyes burning into my back as I walked.
* * *
The results of the tryouts came out on Saturday morning. I’d been up early to get a head start on some grading and happened to run into Madam Hooch when she had been delivering the announcement to the Heads of Houses, who would put the parchments up in the Common Rooms. She stopped me and wordlessly handed me one of the parchments, which I quickly read.
Most of the choices had been people I had decided on myself and I allowed myself a brief moment of pride before hurriedly abandoning it. I took my time getting to the Slytherin Seeker’s name, however, and I knew well why, I just wasn’t ready to admit it to myself right then. But finally there was no getting away from it and I forced my eyes to look at the line. It was who I had expected it to be; the team would have been fools to put on anyone else.
“They’re good choices,” I said calmly, handing the parchment back to her. I was a rippling mass of fear and unease, inside; outside, I was the picture of calmness and serenity. I wasn’t ready to completely panic in front of one of my old teachers and now one of my own colleagues, at least, not yet.
“Indeed,” she agreed, just as calm as myself, but her amber eyes never left mine as they watched me, clearly expecting to see a flicker of panic in my face. I stared back at her, blinking slowly, until she looked back down at the pile of parchment in her arms. “I do believe the Quidditch Season will be an interesting one this year.”
I grinned. “I think so as well. I’m looking forward to it!”
“Having memories?” she asked me slyly, and I smiled and nodded. “Suppose it’ll be a big change to watch instead of participating from now on.” I shrugged. “Unless you’re willing to referee a few times?” she added, keeping her voice deliberately casual, but I could see the faint twinkle in her eyes as she waited for my answer.
I gave her a slightly hopeful look. “May I?” She nodded. “Well then, thank you!” Remembering why I had risen early in the first place, I sighed and added, “I have to get back to grading. We can discuss this again at another time?” Hooch nodded. “Right.” I nodded and was about to start walking away, when I remembered something else. “Is it all right if I take out the Snitch tonight? Just for a bit of practise for memory’s sake,” I added hastily, but I’d won her over already, so there was no need for excuses it seemed.
“Of course you can, Harry!” she told me with a chuckle. “Do you think you need to ask?!” She shook her head. “I still don’t know why you didn’t take that offer, you know. You really could have played for England eventually, maybe even brought the World Cup to us. And yet you chose this occupation.” She clearly didn’t see the logic in it.
I shrugged, not really wanting to get into any details and privately wishing that she would give it a rest by now. “This job seemed a little bit safer.” I grinned then, despite myself; being a Defence Against the Dark Arts could hardly be seen as a ‘safe’ job, now that I properly thought about it. “Catching Snitches wasn’t exactly what I wanted to do for the rest of my life, either, not really.” Secretly, I hoped that would be the answer she wanted and would accept; I was running out of excuses to hide the truth.
Thankfully, she seemed to accept this answer and nodded. “Well, it was your choice in the end, I suppose.” She sighed. “I still think you could have done well in professional Quidditch, though.” With that said, she nodded to me and walked down the corridor. I sighed heavily when I was sure she was out of earshot, before continuing to my own office, where a rather large pile of essays were waiting for me.
It was late afternoon when I finally decided to stop for a while. Getting up and wincing at the stiffness in my back, I walked over to my window and flung it open. Breathing in rapid gulps of air, I rubbed my neck in an effort to ease the tension in it. Staring out at the grounds below me, it suddenly hit me what a nice day it was. With that realisation now firmly planted in my mind, I decided to go for a walk.
I was strolling comfortable through the grounds, taking my time and not really caring about anything at all, when I spotted Jonathan Granger eagerly talking with two of his closest friends, Alanna Ashworth and Calmus Nightshade. He spotted me and waved cheerfully at me, seemingly not caring that I was a teacher or not. I grinned and waved back. It was nice to see that he was settling in here now. Hermione would be so happy.
Jonathan made me think of Callidus and I sighed, grimacing. He was the direct opposite to Jonathan: cold, aloof, friendless. He had partly settled into Hogwarts, academically at least. He was incredibly smart for his age, bright and with an endless thirst for knowledge. He did amazingly in all his work; he kept to the amount allocated, but used the certain amount in a way that got the required information across in a thoughtful, and yet logical way. It was Hermione, but yet it wasn't Hermione. All of us agreed that it was possible he could be a remarkable scholar -- if only he would make friends and attempt to trust people and let them trust him in return! But it wasn’t happening; it was plain to everyone. Callidus kept to himself and acted like he just didn’t care.
My opinion of him had slowly begin to change since the Quidditch tryouts. I had first viewed him as an angry, vengeful boy who would refuse to listen to anyone or take orders. I had seen him as keeping a grudge against me as well. But that was slowly changing. Now, since seeing the surprise in his eyes when I had congratulated him on his tryout performance, it had slowly started to occur to me that perhaps I was the one who had been keeping the grudge, not Callidus. Now when I thought of him, I remembered the nervous, shy boy I had helped through the barrier at King’s Cross on the first day of term. He hadn’t seemed a Riddle then... why should he be now?
I sighed and dragged my knuckles across my eyes in exasperation; this was a difficult situation and not easy to figure out in the slightest. By now I had realised that I had managed to walk to a distant part of the grounds, near the lake and far away from the students. With another sigh, I flopped down at the base of a trunk, leaned against it and closed my eyes, trying to doze. Everything was beginning to pile up against me.
Moments passed and I began to relax, easing slowly into a state of restfulness when I had a soft noise. I was sitting up, my eyes open, before my mind eventually caught up with my body. Habits of the war that life as a teacher was slowly starting to break. My eyes landed on a tall figure who was regarding me silently. I tried my hardest to ignore the hopeful feeling that was starting to rise up inside me, despite the fact I held no real expectations for anything to happen.
“Do you sneak up on people just to startle them?” The words were spilling out of my mouth before I could stop them; I instantly regretted them. They were a taunt that would mean we would argue, yet again. I was tired of arguing, suddenly tired of everything.
Snape smiled at me thinly, no trace of humour in his eyes. “It depends on the person.” It had not been an attempt at a joke; he rarely joked. I should know; it had taken me hundreds of bribes and much begging to force him to lighten up and not be so tense and angry all the time. A lot of good it had done. “Some people are easy to startle.”
“And I suppose I’m one of those people?” I demanded tartly, thinking, Why isn’t my mouth obeying me? I don’t want to argue with him! I want to kiss him right now and I know that won’t do any good, but I still want to do it, no matter how much it complicates things! I’d learned years ago that trying to reason out with my mind never worked, but I still did it anyway.
Snape’s lips tightened to a narrow line. “I didn’t say that, Potter.” There was an early warning in his voice, telling me to be careful of what I would say, before I went too far. Unfortunately, knowing my temperament right now, it would be extremely likely that I would purposely ignore that warning which wouldn’t help either of us. I was sick of acting like this around him -- but I also didn’t know how else to act around him. It was incredibly frustrating.
My mouth opened. I had my answer exactly planned out: “I know you didn’t, but that was what you meant.” But somehow -- amazingly -- common sense hit me and, instead, I said quietly and seriously, “I know.” It was said solemnly enough that Snape actually paused and looked at me carefully, as if wary of a trick, but there was none, for I couldn’t think of any in the first place.
And then silence descended on us and we became awkward, suddenly intensely aware of the other and what we felt for them and all that had happened between us in the past. I became intensely uncomfortable and fought not to squirm, realising that Snape was so close to me and not exactly sure how I felt about that. I remembered suddenly all the times Snape and I had crept around the school, trying to find places that were generally unused so that we could meet. With a shiver, I realised this had been one of those places and had come here unconsciously -- and it appeared that Snape had as well.
When he glanced away to look at the surrounding trees, I looked up at him through my fringe, eyeing him swiftly, and what I hoped, was accurately. I hardly knew why I had come here in the first place, so I didn’t bother to wonder about Snape’s reason, to save myself the headache. But I wondered about him. It was a slow process, but I was beginning to admit to myself that I still had feelings for him, feelings that probably hadn’t left since I was fifteen and dismayed to realise I’d fallen for the greasy-haired Potions Master. Through the years Snape had always been in my mind, even if it had only been in my subconscious -- he had still been there. I had never forgotten him.
And with him, the question had remained in my mind: why had he done it? No, that was the wrong question; I already knew why he had done it, or at least, I thought I did. For the Greater Good, to make Voldemort believe he was still on his side, to keep him occupied long enough for me to gather my shattered strength and deliver the final blow. It seemed a reasonable thought... but still, I wondered...
The rain began to fall; the smoke of the battle started to dissolve and fade. I struggled to remain standing, exhausted beyond belief and unable to believe that it had really happened, that Voldemort had truly been defeated, for good this time. Rain fell on me and quickly drenched my hair and robes. I welcomed it, for it was a relief on my burning wounds and scratches. I took several deep breaths, trying to calm myself down and think logically. But I couldn’t.
I couldn’t stop forgetting...
A howl of grim triumph tore through the air.
I felt my head whip to the side and momentarily winced at the sudden jab of pain that shot through my neck. I hoped I hadn’t done anything serious to it. Probably a scratch. I watched Snape, completely soaked and not caring, drag up his tattered robe sleeve and bare his left arm in victory. I watched as the Dark Mark wavered uncertainly for a moment, before fading. For good. The last symbol of Voldemort, gone, the final assurance that we had really and truly won, that this wasn’t going to be another false hope. The light thrums of a headache began to pound through my head and I thought, Of all times, not now! But I couldn’t stop it. I never could.
And then I heard the clapping.
I turned slowly, as did Snape, and we saw them coming towards them, some running, some stumbling, some limping, all deliriously overjoyed, for Voldemort was gone! No one could hardly believe it, not even me. I wondered if Snape did and I shuddered, before telling myself of course he did, for the Dark Mark truly fading was evidence enough. And they were clapping us, every one of them. I saw them; Sirius, Lupin, Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall and all the other teachers... bar one, of course... Ron, Hermione, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the twins, Bill... but not Percy and Charlie... Seamus, Dean and others I’d known at school... but not Neville or Parvati and there were others I’d known that I couldn’t see... but those that still lived were there and they were clapping Snape and me. I didn’t know what to think, for I was stunned and shocked. Everything seemed to be happening around me, it truly didn’t seem to concern me in any way.
I hardly felt the enthusiastic hugs of Sirius and Lupin and barely saw the tears streaming down Sirius’ face as he hugged me and realised I was still alive, still in one piece. I hardly felt connected at all and I thought I saw a flicker of concern cross Dumbledore’s face, as he touched my shoulder quietly, but then it was gone and perhaps I hadn’t seen it at all...
And then Snape was beside me.
Snape, who looked exhausted, bewildered, happy and grim all at once, completely soaked and truly not caring one bit. There were slight ribs of grey in his hair that hadn’t been there before and there were lines around his eyes that hadn’t been there once, but it was him all the same. For a few moments, it felt like there was only Snape and myself in the world, that no one else existed and I’d never felt so afraid before, not even with all the things I had experienced in my life. I looked up at him silently and I knew he saw the fear in my eyes and was confused.
But I couldn’t forget, couldn’t get the memories of what he’d done to me out of my mind, what he had done to convince Voldemort he was still on his side. Some part of me said sharply that it had all been pretence, that he hadn’t meant any of it, that I should have trusted him. But something stopped me. The brief flicker of pleasure I had seen in his eyes, just for a moment and what that had done to me, had done what nothing else had been able to do before.
It had truly terrified me.
Snape, confused and unsure, hesitantly placed a hand on my arm and tried to pull me closer to him, not concerned with all the people around us. Raw panic coursed through me. I tensed and knew he felt it and couldn’t understand it, not really. With my jaw clenched and anguished rage shining in my eyes, I discreetly wrenched my arm out of his grip. Shock flared in his midnight eyes and it was only iron self-control that kept him from gasping or exclaiming. With a steely glance, I turned away from him and collapsed into Sirius’ arms, desperate for some sort of comfort.
A silent refusal and dismissal. The proclamation of the end of the affair, so to speak.
I could feel his eyes on me even through my exhausted state and somehow I knew they had hardened.
Tears burned my eyes. I wrenched my gaze down to stare at the grass, my fists clenching in my lap as I desperately tried to keep my emotions in check. The memory had come upon me suddenly and it had been unexpected and unwelcome, for I hated it, hated it with a passion that sometimes frightened me. I hoped fervently that Snape hadn’t seen this, but doubted that he was that oblivious. After all, I knew him very well, alarmingly well.
There was no solid proof to say that Snape had enjoyed torturing me because of Voldemort’s orders. In fact, it was the last thing I would have expected. But I had seen the glimmer of pleasure in his eyes for precious seconds, before it had disappeared, and since then the insistent thought had never left me alone. There were probably several logical explanations for it, but I was determined never to broach the subject with him. Neither of us liked talking about the war, but I often wondered if he was plagued with memories and nightmares as I still was.
Cool fingers reached underneath my chin and forced me to meet dark eyes. I swallowed, but did not look away. Snape looked at me thoughtfully, but I could see the underlining concern. I knew he was going to say something, something that would make me relive it all and that was the last thing I wanted. His smell curled around me and heat radiated from him to me. He filled my senses suddenly and I began to feel dizzy from it. I’d forgotten how much of an impact he made on me, had forgotten what he did to me. We were so close I almost thought he was going to kiss me...
The memory flashed through my mind once more and I jerked. Snape frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but I’d had enough. With a cry, I rushed to my feet and bolted away from him, ignoring his calls and instead hurrying to get back to my room, desperate to be alone, completely alone.
I slammed the door shut and leaned against it, closing my eyes and taking in several deep breaths. My heart hammered in my chest and every breath seemed a labour. It had been too close, far too close and I knew it would never happen again. I could never forgive Snape for what he had done to me and I could never, ever forget either. He would plague me for the rest of my life and while I hated him, I still wanted him and that scared me to unimaginable levels. Snape didn’t even seem to realise the power he had over me and I wondered if that was a good or bad thing. Perhaps it was both. But I couldn’t be that close to him again, for it was far too dangerous, for both of us.
And at last, I let go of the last remains of my shredded self-control and allowed my emotions to momentarily take control. Giving into everything that had been building inside me since coming here, since the end of the war, since over five years ago, I slid to the floor and let the tears start to fall.
