And So She Saw
Apr. 19th, 2009 11:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bohemiansnapeficsTitle: And So She Saw
Author:bohemianspirit
Genre: Het, Drabble
Pairing: Severus Snape/Charity Burbage
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 100 x 7
Challenge:![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
snape100 #278: The Eye of the Beholder
Warning: Canon compliant :-(
1
She'd been looking at him quizzically for some months after beginning her post at Hogwarts. He avoided her when he could, kept things cursory when he couldn't, until the day she walked into his office and sat across from him, meeting his eyes with quiet determination.
He'd expected another reprimand about his Slytherins and their conduct in Muggle Studies. Instead, she calmly said, "Legilimens."
And she saw.
His hand was on his wand, Obliviate on his lips, but the way she looked at him, open, trusting, daring, what he said instead was, "Legilimens."
And he saw.
And so it began.
2
"I shouldn't have done that," she said.
"No," he agreed. "You shouldn't." He nestled his face in the crook of her neck, and breathed in.
"Obliviate me, if you must," she said. "For security's sake."
"I trust you," he said, though it wrenched him terribly to admit it to her.
She ran a hand down his back. "Do you trust my Occlumency to--even if--against--?"
He scowled, and buried his face deeper. "Perhaps it won't come to that."
Foolish, they both suspected, but she had already seen his penchant for unreasonable hope, hidden deep beneath the sardonically rational facade.
3
He lay on his back, arms folded tightly over his chest.
"He's really not that bad, Severus."
Severus felt his nostrils flare. "An arrogant, attention-seeking git who thinks he's the exception to every rule. Just like his father."
"A boy, a young boy, under constant scrutiny and in continual danger, hardly knowing what to do with all the attention being heaped upon him for having the good fortune to survive--"
"Enough," snarled Severus. "This subject is closed."
Charity sighed. "Just remember, you're supposed to be helping him."
He kept his eyes fixed on the dungeon ceiling. "I never forget."
4
"Find someone else," he said.
"Rather late for that," she said.
"Need I remind you," he intoned through gritted teeth, "who I am and what I've done?"
She glanced at the Dark Mark on his arm before fixing her eyes upon his.
"No," she said. "You needn't."
He turned away so she wouldn't see.
"I know what I'm doing," she said.
"No, you don't," he whispered.
"Either way, it's my choice." She wrapped her arm over his side, pulling him close. "And I have chosen."
He kept his back to her, so she wouldn't see, but of course she knew.
5
"You have no future with me, Charity."
"We have no future without you, Severus."
His eyes snapped open.
She raised her eyebrows.
He looked away. "I'm not that important."
"Dunderhead."
He looked back to her, arching one eyebrow.
She rested a hand against his cheek. "Beloved dunderhead," she murmured.
His lip curled. "How many points shall I take away?"
"The point," she said, leaning in to kiss him, "that the part which you are playing is absolutely crucial to any hope we have of winning this war."
He snorted, but it was muffled by her lips pressed firmly against his.
6
This could only end badly.
Severus feathered his fingertips through Charity's hair. She slept on, her face graced by the faintest smile.
Very badly.
It could only last till year's end, at best. Doubly bound by oath and by honor, unless he could find a way out, there would come a time when she would despise him, when everyone would despise him, think him a traitor to the very cause to which he had devoted his life.
He reclined alongside her and held her close.
Her heart would be broken. It couldn't be helped. No sense in hastening the day.
7
He had tried to warn her.
He had.
Still, he blamed only himself.
He should have broken it off. He should never have allowed it to begin.
He glanced around the table, wondering if he--that--knew, or if it were but a coincidence: a horrible, horrible coincidence.
For the second time in his life, he would lose a woman he loved at the hands of--
"Severus... please..."
He Occluded his mind, he had to Occlude. He held her eyes with his, steady, impassive, and hoped that in his Occlumency she would see; and, in seeing, that she would understand.
Author:
bohemianspiritGenre: Het, Drabble
Pairing: Severus Snape/Charity Burbage
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 100 x 7
Challenge:
snape100 #278: The Eye of the BeholderWarning: Canon compliant :-(
1
She'd been looking at him quizzically for some months after beginning her post at Hogwarts. He avoided her when he could, kept things cursory when he couldn't, until the day she walked into his office and sat across from him, meeting his eyes with quiet determination.
He'd expected another reprimand about his Slytherins and their conduct in Muggle Studies. Instead, she calmly said, "Legilimens."
And she saw.
His hand was on his wand, Obliviate on his lips, but the way she looked at him, open, trusting, daring, what he said instead was, "Legilimens."
And he saw.
And so it began.
2
"I shouldn't have done that," she said.
"No," he agreed. "You shouldn't." He nestled his face in the crook of her neck, and breathed in.
"Obliviate me, if you must," she said. "For security's sake."
"I trust you," he said, though it wrenched him terribly to admit it to her.
She ran a hand down his back. "Do you trust my Occlumency to--even if--against--?"
He scowled, and buried his face deeper. "Perhaps it won't come to that."
Foolish, they both suspected, but she had already seen his penchant for unreasonable hope, hidden deep beneath the sardonically rational facade.
3
He lay on his back, arms folded tightly over his chest.
"He's really not that bad, Severus."
Severus felt his nostrils flare. "An arrogant, attention-seeking git who thinks he's the exception to every rule. Just like his father."
"A boy, a young boy, under constant scrutiny and in continual danger, hardly knowing what to do with all the attention being heaped upon him for having the good fortune to survive--"
"Enough," snarled Severus. "This subject is closed."
Charity sighed. "Just remember, you're supposed to be helping him."
He kept his eyes fixed on the dungeon ceiling. "I never forget."
4
"Find someone else," he said.
"Rather late for that," she said.
"Need I remind you," he intoned through gritted teeth, "who I am and what I've done?"
She glanced at the Dark Mark on his arm before fixing her eyes upon his.
"No," she said. "You needn't."
He turned away so she wouldn't see.
"I know what I'm doing," she said.
"No, you don't," he whispered.
"Either way, it's my choice." She wrapped her arm over his side, pulling him close. "And I have chosen."
He kept his back to her, so she wouldn't see, but of course she knew.
5
"You have no future with me, Charity."
"We have no future without you, Severus."
His eyes snapped open.
She raised her eyebrows.
He looked away. "I'm not that important."
"Dunderhead."
He looked back to her, arching one eyebrow.
She rested a hand against his cheek. "Beloved dunderhead," she murmured.
His lip curled. "How many points shall I take away?"
"The point," she said, leaning in to kiss him, "that the part which you are playing is absolutely crucial to any hope we have of winning this war."
He snorted, but it was muffled by her lips pressed firmly against his.
6
This could only end badly.
Severus feathered his fingertips through Charity's hair. She slept on, her face graced by the faintest smile.
Very badly.
It could only last till year's end, at best. Doubly bound by oath and by honor, unless he could find a way out, there would come a time when she would despise him, when everyone would despise him, think him a traitor to the very cause to which he had devoted his life.
He reclined alongside her and held her close.
Her heart would be broken. It couldn't be helped. No sense in hastening the day.
7
He had tried to warn her.
He had.
Still, he blamed only himself.
He should have broken it off. He should never have allowed it to begin.
He glanced around the table, wondering if he--that--knew, or if it were but a coincidence: a horrible, horrible coincidence.
For the second time in his life, he would lose a woman he loved at the hands of--
"Severus... please..."
He Occluded his mind, he had to Occlude. He held her eyes with his, steady, impassive, and hoped that in his Occlumency she would see; and, in seeing, that she would understand.