Post by Anya Lee on Jan 22, 2009 9:06:21 GMT -5
Why not to fall in love with your boss’ wife
He stared at her, lost for words as the ends of her emerald green robes swished against the cold marble floor and she approached his open-mouthed figure.
“Severus?” she said questioningly, eyeing him with an eyebrow raised as though she feared for his sanity. “Why, may I ask, are you staring?”
“I-I,” Severus replied, stuttering as he nervously straightened his black robes and greasy, black curtains of hair with two, trembling hands. “I-”
“You what?” Minerva McGonagall said impatiently, though not unkindly, bringing her hands onto her thin waist. He eyed her figure hungrily and she looked rather taken aback by his uncannily eager gaze.
“Severus, do stop staring,” she snapped, annoyed, taking a step backward. “You’re beginning to scare me.”
Severus Snape dropped his gaze to the ground embarrassedly and studiously examined the precise shade of the marble floor before replying with dull finality, “The Headmaster wishes to see you in his office.”
“Oh!’ she exclaimed, a hint of amusement lingering in her beautiful voice. “Is that all? Indisputably, he could have as easily notified me himself. I’m sure that’s not what you came here for, Severus … pray, come in.”
Severus sighed, feeling both, agonistic and ecstatic, his mind engaged in a violent mental tussle.
Don’t go … you know it’s bound to get worse…
She invited you in … the Minerva McGonagall … the one you’ve been in love with for weeks now … don’t miss the chance, you goof ball…
Severus Snape, don’t go, you know you can’t have her… you don’t stand a chance … to her, you’re just the slimy oddball who was terrible at Transfiguration…
If you can’t have her … at least, see what her chambers are like … it can’t hurt … really, can it?
“Severus, are you coming in?” Minerva asked him, walking back to the door where the Potions Master was still standing, staring at the wall and not really seeing it. A very confused Severus ultimately relinquished himself to the latter part of his conscience, stepping into the witch’s tastefully decorated chambers.
“Help yourself,” she offered politely, indicating the comfy-looking, baroque patterned armchairs beside the roaring fire.
“Th-thank you,’ Severus muttered, arousing Minerva’s suspicions at his atypically edgy behaviour. The last time she had seen him like this had been years ago, when James had leapt out of a bush and imitated him slipping off his broomstick. Severus Snape had kept a lookout for his arch-rival for weeks after that, jumping at the smallest sounds, fearing his much hated adversary would mock his falling, dog-paddling figure once more.
“Well, feel free to look around,” she said, waving her arm randomly around the room, trying not to laugh at the memory of Severus’ jumpy expression. “I’ll be back-” She vanished into the inner chambers of the rooms, her green robes sweeping the carpeted floor behind her with a rhythmic swish.
Severus got up from the arm chairs, thinking that he might as well explore her rooms now that he was in there. He wandered towards the hearth; on the mantelpiece, a large collection of photos were displayed, ones which on seeing he almost died of shock.
He clutched his robes so tightly his knuckles turned white and asked in a very horrified voice to Minerva, who had only just arrived, dressed in a much looser pair of robes, that accentuated her curves to a greater degree. She looked a vision from heaven.
“Is that you?” He sounded appalled (and devastated), though Minerva didn’t seem to notice.
She looked up and squinted at the frame he was referring to; and laughed as she walked over to the mantelpiece and lovingly picked up the photo that Severus was looking at in shock. It was a picture of four people at the sea side – a tall, thin and very beautiful girl with dark, black hair that spiralled to her waist and cerulean blue eyes stood bent with a younger, auburn-haired, green-eyed child wrapped in her arms. A youthful boy with scruffy auburn hair and wonderfully blue eyes held on tightly to the older girl and a stunning woman, who looked very much like Minerva McGonagall had her arms around them all, a smile gracing her rose-tinted lips. The green and blue backdrop of the calm sea seemed to reflect in the foursomes’ joyful emerald and azure eyes.
“In a manner of speaking,” she whispered dreamily, tracing their happy smiles with a svelte finger. “They’re all grown up now. Eldest daughter – Mileva, and then there was my son Adrian and youngest child – Thalia. Even she’s twenty five now.”
“You’re married?” Severus squeaked, amazed that he had found his voice, though it came out as a hoarse croak. “To whom?”
Told ya you shouldn’t have gone … there now … she’s married … she has three kids ... idiot git, you have a gift for choosing the wrong woman…
Minerva stared at him warily as she replaced the photo delicately on the mantelpiece and then chided, “Oh, come now, Severus … don’t tell me you don’t know.”
Seeing Severus’ blank look, she rolled her eyes as though it was obvious what the answer to his question was.
“To Albus Dumbledore, of course!”
And I hope for an expanded version soon. 
