A/N: Because this was written before all the books were completed, I didn't know at the time that Snape was a half blood. I'm not changing it in this story as the fact that I have him as pure blooded is important for later plot details concerning.. well, I won't give it away now in case you decide to stick with this and read on. :)
Severus Snape apparated back to the school entrance; his face dark and meaner than ever. His eyes narrowed as he saw the school ahead of him. He stayed by the gates, his hands stretched out to open them.
Damn her!
His face twisted in anger. How dare she work her way into his life, disrupting his routine. Desecrating his classroom? How dare she question his teaching methods? How dare she run out on him?
He slammed the gates back on themselves in anger. She was making a fool out of him. He knew that it was common knowledge to the staff they'd been sleeping together. Knew that it was something that had surprised them, that someone like her, would be attracted to someone like him. Hell, they probably wondered how anyone could be attracted to him. He wondered why she'd even given him another look, let alone access to her body. But she had and he wasn't sure he could give her up now.
"Why would I want him to come with me?"
The words had hurt him. If he was truly honest, and he'd never tell her, but they had affected him deeply. Not because she'd said it, but because it was the truth. Why would she take him home? She never mentioned them, but no doubt her parents would be there. Why would she want them to meet him? What could he possibly say to them?
"Hello, Mr and Mrs Kincaid, I'm Severus Snape, former Death Eater. Responsible for several deaths, hundreds of attacks on muggles and generally causing mayhem and terror for nearly three years. Oh, and by the way, I've been teaching your daughter several different ways of making love; some of them still illegal in several countries."
He snorted. That wouldn't exactly get him a handshake and a clap on the back. No, why would she take him? She may have asked him when he wasn't listening, but obviously common sense had re-asserted itself with her. And now she realised that she didn't want to be with him anymore.
He had wondered when she'd wake up to him. He ran a hand through his hair and realised that he hadn't washed it for several days. He didn't care. He'd started to make a bit of an effort when it seemed she was going to hang around. But even that bit of effort hadn't lasted long and he'd soon slipped back into going days, sometimes even weeks without washing it. He didn't like standing under a shower with water and soap blinding his vision. It unsettled him that for several minutes he was completely vulnerable. But she'd never complained, hadn't flinched from touching it.
He liked the way she'd come and sit on his lap sometimes and play with his hair absently, while she chatted about something trivial. Never remarking on the state his hair had to be in. Never reminding him about the time he'd coolly told her that washing his hair didn't make a difference!
Even when he tried to remove her from his lap, complaining about having marking to do.
He stopped in mid track; surely not.
She'd yelled on the station something about not knowing if she was coming or going; he hadn't really listened to her, too mad with her for running off like that. But he thought she was happy with what they had.
He frowned, trying to think what they actually did have. Great sex, no point denying that. They could hold a relatively decent conversation on potions. Even if she did have some funny ideas on it. He liked knowing she was around.
He sighed, turned and the moment he was outside the gate, apparated back to the station. Perhaps he had been a little remiss in how he had treated her.
Meg could hear a slight noise behind her, like a rustling of paper. The wind probably. She slumped further down onto her bag, her knees drawn up to her chin, her arms wrapped protectively around her.
A small paper bag was dropped onto the floor at her feet. Startled she looked up, but there was no one in front of her.
Reaching forward she opened the bag and saw some Mints.
"I didn't have raisins so mints will have to do." The slow, dark drawl was unmistakeable.
"Why?" She was confused and certain she was dreaming.
"They were all I could get," he replied smoothly, not moving from the wall.
"No. I mean why are you here?" She got to her feet awkwardly, turning to face him.
"Making sure you get on the train," he intoned lazily.
Meg bit her lip hard, refusing to cry.
"Damn you, Severus!" she spat and threw the bag at him. He caught it and put it back in his robes.
"Already been done," he told her quietly. "I damned myself years ago."
She stared at him, tears in her eyes, but she refused to let him see them.
"And I'll be damning myself again if I let you get on that train without finding out why first." He stepped away from the wall and crossed to her slowly, his dark eyes never leaving her face.
"I just need to sort some things out." She bent and picked up her bag, holding it against her, as if it was her last line of defence.
"I heard that in the staff room," he remarked and stepped close enough for her to have to look up to see his face.
"You were in the staff room?" she asked startled. "I didn't see you!"
"I'm surprised. Rolanda nearly fell off her chair trying to get you to look in my direction."
"Oh... I...Oh..." Horror dawned on her as she remembered what she'd said to Dean.
"Oh, dear!" She sagged slightly. "I didn't mean it quite like that; that is to say, I did ask you to come with me, but you weren't listening."
"Are your parents expecting you this weekend?" he asked her.
"My parents? No, I mean, that is, no, they aren't. They're both dead now," she told him and he nodded once.
"Do you have to be at home to "sort things out?" Is it something physical you require assistance with?" he inquired and blinked when something occurred to him. "I do hope the comment of illegal potions was merely a jest."
"I wanted to see if you'd heard anything I was saying," she relied sadly.
He snorted and straightened slightly before smoothing a stand of hair away from his face.
"So do you require assistance at home?" he demanded again.
"No, it's not that. Just a change of scenery really," she murmured, her eyes on the buttons at his neck.
"Will you stay here, with me this weekend?" He reached out a finger and touched her cold cheek gently.
She shut her eyes and sighed, her heart felt torn in two. She so badly wanted to say yes, let him take her back and give in. But she wasn't sure how much she could take. He pushed her away with one hand and drew her back with the other.
