Fire And Ice
“Welcome to the-oh, hello Uncle Michea.” Jehan beamed as he recognized his uncle. “What brings you here?”
Michea gave a small smile and pointed to the girl standing next to him. The girl was looked to be about 16-17 years old and had a on pair of thick glasses that were partially hidden behind raven black bangs. Her arms were bandaged up to the shoulders and there were a few cuts on her face, but other than that she looked like a plain school aged girl. “Her potion ingredients were destroyed in the explosion.”
Nodding Jehan began to move about, collecting the components that made up the basic Hogwarts potion ingredients kit. “I read about it in the paper. Childish Prank Goes Terribly Wrong…I think that’s what the headline said.” Capping the last bottle he placed the jars and bottles into a medium sized box and smiled at the girl. “What exactly happened mother?”
Melin’s face went pale and she quickly glanced around the shop to make sure no one else was around. “Don’t call me that here!” She hissed.
Jehan blushed. “Sorry, I forget sometimes. So what happened?”
“Someone switched my armadillo bile with erumpent fluid.” Rubbing her arms Melin looked over as the bell on the door jingled, her eyes narrowing as she recognized the stringy figure of Snape walk through the door, accompanied by his father.
“Welcome to the Apothecary’s Mr. Snape.” Greeted Jehan.
Snape cast a sidelong glance at Melin, his arms also bandaged. He stopped for a moment, as if to offer some sort of greeting to Melin, but was pushed forward by his father. Stumbling forward he hit his head against the edge of the counter.
“Um,” raising his eyebrows Jehan reached under the counter and produced one of the white cloths that he normally used to wrap herbs in and handed it to Snape, “here, you’re bleeding a little.”
“Never mind that, this ingrate here needs fresh ingredients.” Drawled Snape’s father. “Apparently his blew up at school.” With a mirthless laugh he looked down at his son with a malicious smirk.
Snape looked over at Melin for a moment, as if asking her to confirm his tale, but quickly looked away when he saw her look down at the floor. “Ask her,” he pointed to Melin, “she’s the one who blew them up.”
Turning around Snape’s father looked down at Melin for a moment, almost like he was looking down at some sort of insect. “Is this true girl? Are you the clumsy little bitch that destroyed my son’s belongings?”
Melin made a small noise and ducked behind Michea, who looked up at Snape’s father with a glare. “I will ask you politely…sir to not talk to my little sister in such a fashion.” Looking over at Jehan he made a small motion, telling Jehan to put away his wand, that he had the situation under control.
“My mistake.” Sneered Snape’s father. “Apparently these days common filth like you and your sister can command me around it seems. What were you things again?”
Jehan straightened up to his full height and cleared his throat. “Sir, I believe I am going to have to ask you to leave if you can not be more polite to my customers.” He pushed the box he had just packed for Melin forward. “Here’s a freshly put together set of ingredients.”
Rounding on Jehan Snape’s father tossed a few sickles on the counter, far less than the cost of the ingredients, took the box and strode out of the store. Snape cast one last look at Melin and followed after his father, a strange look on his face.
Once the door had shut and the two Snape’s were out of sight Jehan breathed a sigh of relief. “I always hate it when he comes in here.” Smiling benignly he set to work to gather the ingredients once more and put them into their jars.
“How much did he short you Jehan?” Asked Michea as he looked down at the small pile of sickles on the counter.
“Oh, don’t worry about it Uncle, he always does that.” Sealing the box that contained the ingredients he smiled and shook his head as Michea pulled out his coin pouch. “No charge uncle, you know that.”
A smirk appeared on Michea’s face. “Oh I’m not paying for mine, I’m just paying the difference for that jerk.” Fishing out the proper amount he set it on the counter next to the pile of coins Snape’s father had tossed down. He laughed as Jehan’s jaw dropped. “Oh come on, I need to do at least one good deed a day don’t I?”
Jehan blushed slightly. “I’m not trying to say you don’t, its just that, well, you’re my uncle…you shouldn’t have to keep giving money to help fix my books. Almost all of the Slytherins short me when they come in, and I just make up the money with my own.”
“Then consider that one of your early birthday presents.” Smiled Michea. Picking up the box he turned around and headed for the door. “Oh, if you have time come and stop by the house for dinner would you? It gets lonely when she’s off at school.”
“Sure thing uncle.” Waving goodbye Jehan smiled as his mother and uncle left.
Stepping out into Diagon Alley Melin looked around and gasped as everything around her vanished, leaving her floating in a vast black void. Images began flashing past her with alarming speed, and suddenly she found herself standing in a dark cemetery. Ahead of her she could hear some voices, and could see someone standing in front of a large cauldron. Walking quietly forward she gasped as a tall pale figure emerged from the cauldron and turned its red slit-pupiled eyes towards her. “No-no…he’s back!”
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Jerking awake Melin looked around, trying to figure out what she had just seen. Slowly she became aware of where she was, and that she had a piece of paper sticking to her cheek. Pulling off the piece of paper she looked up to see what had caused her to wake up. There, standing in front of her desk stood Snape, a sneer on his face. “What do you want Severus?” She growled.
“Do you always cry out “He’s back?” in your sleep?” Asked Snape.
Melin raised her eyebrows, her anger abating for the moment. “What else did I say?”
Snape shrugged, the sneer still on his face. “Wasn’t paying enough attention. I come in here to ask you if you had plans for the Yule ball and I find you asleep on the papers you were supposed to be grading. I’m pretty sure Dumbledore doesn’t pay you to sleep on the job.”
“Oh shove it would ya? I don’t sleep much, you know that.” She had been about to tell Snape off for not letting her know he was there earlier when she stopped in mid word. “Wait-you came here to ask me what I plan to do for the Yule ball? Like if I have a date or not?”
“Something like that. Dumbledore said that he wants the teachers to all have “dates” as well.”
“And you’re asking me?”
Snape shrugged. “Why not? Just because you’d rather curse me than talk to me doesn’t mean that you aren’t good eye candy.”
Melin stood up, her hand on her wand. “Care to repeat that Severus?” She asked, her voice becoming dangerously quiet.
A malicious grin spread across Snape’s pallid face, his black eyes glittering. “I said that if you had nothing better to do, you could always be my date.” He practically spat the last word out.
“And I would want to be your…date…why?”
“Because you know you don’t want to show up alone.” Snape knew he had her there.
Melin sat back down in her blue wing backed chair and looked down at the papers on her desk. “Fine, just don’t expect anything else from me.” Picking up her quill she returned to grading the papers she had been working on before she had fallen asleep. “If there is nothing else you need I would like to finish up these papers you so kindly dumped on my desk earlier.”
The sneer reappeared on Snape’s face. “Just make sure you look nice for the ball tomorrow.” Turning on his heel he strode from the office, leaving Melin sitting in her chair, fuming.
Throwing down her quill Melin stared into the fire, her mind no longer on her work. Why did she hate Snape so much? Sure he was a jerk to the students, but there was something else…something she couldn’t put her finger on. When did she begin hating Snape? She knew that for a while she had actually liked him, but something happened during the end of fifth year…what was it again? With a sigh Melin stood up and walked over to the fireplace. “Why can’t I remember? It must have been something terrible for me to continue hating him this much.” Looking at the pictures on the mantle she smiled slightly and headed into her room, where she flung open the antique armoire in the corner. “He’d better look nice too…hopefully he’ll wash his hair.” She muttered as she thumbed through her robes, stopping at a long flowing robe made of a strange substance that moved almost like water flowing in a river. Taking it down Melin smiled as the colors shifted as the robe moved in the light, going from a deep wintry blue to a dark silvery green. A faint smile spread over Melin’s face as she laid it out on her bed and stood back to admire the workmanship.
The robe had been a mysterious gift, she had found it wrapped in a small bundle on her desk on her birthday. With no label naming who had sent it Melin had merely assumed it was from her brother, but the fabric was like nothing she had ever seen, it was almost like it wasn’t of this world. Shaking herself out of her thoughts Melin turned as her brother stepped into the room. “You have manners as bad as Snivellus’.”
Michea smiled benignly and shrugged. “You missed our dinner at the pub, I wanted to make sure you were ok. You’ve been pouring all your spare time into your research lately.” Placing his hand on his little sister’s shoulder he looked down at the gown and paled significantly. “Melin, where did you get that gown?”
“It was a present for my birthday. I thought you had gotten it for me.” Looking at her brother’s pale complexion Melin’s brow furrowed slightly. “What’s wrong?”
Running his fingers over the smooth fabric Michea blinked, completely at a loss for words. Last he had seen anything like this was back before he and Melin had had to flee their home, all those thousands of years ago. Could it be possible? Could there still be other Märchenlanders out there? “It’s nothing. It just looked like one of your mother’s old dresses. Do you remember her?”
Melin shook her head. “I can remember a voice, and a kind smile, but that’s it. I sometimes think I see her when I’m working late at night, along with several others…they always look like ghosts though.”
With a small nod Michea took one last look at the robe and then smiled. “I almost forgot! A new package has arrived from Jehan, he’s found some wonderful books for you. It’s back at the house.”
Perking up instantly Melin leapt from the room and removed a book from a shelf near the fireplace. Flipping the lever hidden behind the book she stepped back as the hidden door swung open, revealing a sloping passage. She was almost giddy with joy at the prospect of new books, so much so that she had completely forgotten about her thoughts on her dead family. “Let’s go check them out right now!”
With a long suffering sigh Michea followed after his sister, taking the hidden passage that would eventually lead them to the garden outside their old house. Watching his sister run along ahead of him he wondered back on the robe on Melin’s bed. The cloth was only made by the most skilled of Märchenlander weavers, and only for royalty. Who on earth could have made that robe? He skidded to a halt as he reached the end of the passage and looked up to see Melin had already ascended the ladder. “I swear, books are like a drug for that girl.” He muttered, a faint smile on his face. Climbing the ladder he walked the short distance from the garden to the back door and then into the library, where he found Melin hugging a large and very old (not to mention tattered and dusty) tome.
“He found it! I can’t believe he found it!” Brushing the dust from the cover Melin grinned as she read the title out loud. “The Diary of Madame Marietta Gringiore!” Hugging the book again she looked up as Michea let out a small chuckle. “What?”
“Wasn’t she the woman who raised Jehan?”
Melin nodded and gently opened the book. “Marietta was a good friend of mine, and a remarkable witch.” She gasped as she read a page towards the front. “She knew Clopin! She went to school with him!”
“Not surprising, there was only one Wizarding school in France at the time, and it was destroyed shortly after Jehan graduated in a mysterious explosion. Where it once stood is where Beauxbatons now is.” Sitting down in his soft armchair Michea pulled a pair of reading glasses from his pocket and slipped them on. “So, who are you going to the ball with?” He asked as he opened up an old and well read copy of The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes.
“Snivellus.” Spat Melin. Placing the book gently on the floor beside her she looked through the rest of the books in the box before placing the diary gently on top. “He just asked me.” Scratching her temple she looked over at Michea. “I was wondering, do you remember why I hate him so much?”
Michea looked up from his book. “You don’t remember?” He laughed as Melin shook her head. “I’m sure you will remember in time, though personally I think it’s a silly reason.”
“Tell me!” Begged Melin.
Shutting his book Michea smiled his patient smile and looked down at his sister. “Even Holmes had to have his Moriarty Melin.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Perhaps you have grown so used to seeing him as a rival that that is all you can see now. As I said, the reason you originally hated him was a silly reason, one that you will come to remember in time, but I think now you have just grown so used to hating him that you continue to do so out of habit.” Removing his eyeglasses he folded them gingerly and held them out. “Just like I do not need these to read, just as you don’t need those glasses you wear to see. We have both grown so used to using them that we continue to do so, even though we don’t have to. Just like you continue to appear as a plain looking human woman, when in actuality you are a very beautiful and gifted Märchenlander princess. It is comforting to you.”
Melin smirked. “Comforting to hate Snivellus?” She stood up and picked up the diary. “So what are you saying? That I should get chummy with him?”
“I’m just saying, re-look your reasons for hating him.”
“I’ll consider it.” Clutching the diary protectively to her chest Melin made her way over to the fireplace and took a handful of floo powder from the jar. “Sometimes I wish that passage was two way.” She grumbled. “Melin’s office, Hogwarts!” Throwing the powder into the fire she stepped into the green flames and was whooshed back to her office.
Christmas day showed itself in a dazzling display of blues and pearly whites, though you wouldn’t have been able to tell by the dark office down in the dungeons, where Snape stood beside his bed, staring down at a pitch black dress robe and cloak. His hair was still dripping slightly from the shower he had just taken, and it was starting to irritate him. Grabbing his wand from his nightstand he tapped it against his head and felt his hair dry almost instantly. It still had a stringy look to it, and still looked somewhat greasy, but a little less than usual. Still staring down at the dress robes on his bed he grumbled something under his breath and stalked over to his desk, intent to spend the remaining hours until the ball grading papers, but realized as he sat down that he had already dumped all the papers that needed to be graded on Melin’s desk the night previous. “This is going to be an irritating day.” He growled as he stood back up and walked over once again to the bed, where he moved the robes and cloak to the chair and flopped down on his bed.
Upstairs Melin stretched and looked up from the diary. The clock on the mantle chimed six, just two hours before the ball. With a small sigh, almost as if she was unable to tear herself away from the new book on her desk she stood up and made her way over to the small bathroom that was connected to her bedroom. Stepping out of her dusty clothes she turned on the faucet to her shower, raising an eyebrow as ice cold water sprayed down on her instead of the usual warm. “Peeves must have broken the hot water main for the floor again.” Shrugging she proceeded to bathe, the cold water not having any effect on her, and sighed slightly as she worked the knots from her waist length hair.
After about 40 minutes she finally shut off the water and picked up her wand from the edge of the sink. Tapping herself on the forehead she felt a warm breeze swirl around her, drying both her body and hair. As the breeze died away she reached for her brush and began working out the last few knots. After she had finished with that she carefully braided her hair into a single long braid, which she doubled over and formed into a loose but elegant looking bun. Pleased with her results she walked into her bedroom and slipped into her undergarments and then into her robe.
It felt like she was wearing practically nothing at all aside from her undergarments, the fabric seemed to fall over her body like water, accentuating every subtle curve and draping gracefully about her shoulders. As her mirror gave a shocked “Wow” she turned to look at her reflection, a similar response uttering from her own lips. A smile appeared on her face and she removed her glasses, setting them gingerly on the nightstand and sitting down on her bed so she could pull on her socks and shoes. Outside the clock chimed seven. Melin knew she didn’t have to be down at the hall until 7:45, but she still wanted to get there early so she could see the great hall before everyone else arrived. Draping a white satin cloak over her shoulders and, fastening it with the silver ravens she always used, she took one last look in the mirror, admiring her reflection momentarily before hurrying from her office and down to the great hall.
As Melin entered the great hall she gasped. The usual tables had been replaced by several smaller lantern lit ones, and the walls were all covered with a magical frost. Above her trailed garlands of holly and mistletoe, the enchanted ceiling dropping enchanted snowflakes that disappeared when they touched something. Standing there admiring the finery she didn’t hear Snape walk up behind her, and actually jumped when his hand touched her shoulder. Whirling around, ready to tell him off, she froze, mid word, and gaped.
Snape had for the occasion tied his hair back, and his black robes seemed to flow about him as if they had a mind of their own. He almost looked…handsome. Melin blinked a few times, thinking that it must be some sort of illusion. Seeing that he was still there she smiled faintly as she noticed the look of pure shock plastered on Snape’s face.
‘There is no way this can be Melin.’ Thought Snape, his mouth hanging open in shock. The usual untamed hair was now smoothed into an elegant bun, and Melin’s face was for once smudge free, not to mention the usual old book and potion ingredients smell that normally lingered about her was now replaced with a hint of Jasmine and rose. She had apparently ditched her glasses for the night. ‘Not like she ever needs them.’ Thought Snape. Everyone on the staff knew that Melin merely wore the glasses out of habit. Looking down at Melin’s figure he gulped, noticing for the first time her slender elfin figure, which up until this point had usually been hidden behind loose clothes that would have been more fitting for a muggle librarian. “You-you look nice.” He held out his hand to Melin, more out of a trained gesture than anything else.
Melin smiled politely. “You do too.” She turned and looked as the doors to the great hall opened and the students filed in. Taking Snape’s offered hand she let him lead her over to one of the staff tables, which was already occupied by Professor Moody and Professor Sinistra. Taking a seat Melin watched as the Triwizard Champions came in. “Everyone looks so beautiful tonight.”
Professor Sinistra nodded in agreement. “You also look…shockingly different. You too Severus.” She added with a small smile.
“Looks can change in a heartbeat.” Growled Moody. “It’s what’s on the inside that can’t change.” Taking a sip from his hip flask he flashed a smile over at Melin. “All you need now is to change your skin color to what it should be no?”
Blushing Melin looked down at her plate. “I-I’d prefer not to. I kinda like looking human.” She glared over at Snape as he scoffed at her words.
“Looking human and being human are two entirely different things.” Picking up the small menu on his plate Snape skimmed it over, smirking as Melin did the same. “Chicken and ham pie.” He muttered into his plate. Next to him he saw a bowl of what looked to be soup appear on Melin’s plate. “I see you taught the house elves to cook your type’s food.” He sneered as his own food appeared on his plate.
“Now you two, behave yourselves tonight.” Laughed Sinistra. “You can go back to trying to kill each other tomorrow. Just live it up tonight.”
Melin raised an eyebrow and picked up her spoon. The food in front of her smelled delicious, though she wondered why she had suddenly had a craving for bouillabaisse. “It’s French cooking.” She growled. “Try it sometime.”
The rest of the meal progressed without incident, and as Dumbledore cleared away the tables Melin looked over at Snape, who looked like he was trying to decide something important. The music started and she watched as Moody and Sinistra made their way to the dance floor, along with the rest of the school.
Snape turned and looked down at Melin. “Um-let’s dance.” Grabbing her hand he pulled her over to the dance floor. Placing his right hand on Melin’s hip he raised his eyebrows in surprise as Melin placed her right hand on his shoulder and placed her left hand in his. “Since when did you learn how to dance like this?” He whispered.
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know.” The music changed to a lively ballroom style song and Melin gasped as Snape led her along to the music, his body moving with a grace she hadn’t known he had. Her face turned bright red as he pulled her close for a moment before spinning her, making her wonder where he had learned how to dance so well. It was almost as if he had been brought up in the royal court. Matching his steps she twirled around the dance floor with him, a smile appearing on her face as she danced. Her brother’s words rung in her ears as the song ended, even Holmes had to have his Moriarty. Looking up into Snape’s face she noticed it didn’t look quite as pale, probably from the dance. “Where did you learn to dance like that?”
Snape smirked as he led Melin off the dance floor. “There’s a lot about me you don’t know.” Finding a table off towards the edge of the hall he gestured for Melin to take a seat. Sitting down next to her he looked up, watching the enchanted snow fall above him. “If you tell me where you learned how to dance I’ll tell you how I learned.”
Melin blushed again. “You’ll laugh when you find out.”
“Try me.”
“I had to learn it as a child. All of my siblings had to know royal protocol, all the way from how to dress in the morning to how to greet a foreign dignitary.” She looked up and smiled faintly at Snape’s look of confusion. “I told you when we were at school…I come from a noble line…I just didn’t mention that my parents happened to be the king and queen.”
Snape’s jaw dropped. “You’re-you can’t be a princess! Look at how you dress! Ok…look at how you normally dress.” He corrected himself as Melin let out a small laugh. “And you don’t act anything like a stuck up little princess.”
Shrugging Melin smiled. “Why should I act like that? It’s not like I’ve had to in several years. Besides,” she played with the pendant that she always wore around her neck, “I never liked having to act all prim and proper. What about you?”
“My father insisted I learn. Told me that I needed to act like the pureblood I was.” Looking up Snape noticed for the first time that they had been sitting under a rather large piece of mistletoe. “Feel like finding another table? Perhaps getting up to get a drink with me?”
“Why?” Looking up to see what Snape was seeing Melin turned bright red. “Oh, um, how about a walk?”
Snape nodded and stood up, slight quicker than he had intended. His chair toppled over backwards and was just barely caught by a quickly muttered charm from Melin. Muttering a quick thanks he righted the chair and held out his hand to help her up.
Shaking her head Melin stood up on her own. “You don’t need to be so formal Severus.” She tried her best to hide her smile. Maybe her reason for hating him was really as childish as Michea had said. After all, she was actually enjoying herself tonight. Following after Snape she stopped momentarily to get a glass of nettle wine with him before heading out of the great hall. They had almost made it to the front door when she heard a familiar clumping noise behind her. Turning she smiled politely as Moody made his way over to them. “Is there something wrong?”
“You two should be back there.” Came Moody’s growl as he jerked his thumb towards the great hall.
“We’re not students Alastor.”
Moody gave Melin a lopsided smile. “Then come back in and join me for a drink.”
Looking up at Snape Melin shrugged and followed Moody back into the great hall and over to the table they had all sat at earlier. She watched as Snape walked over and got two fresh glasses of nettle wine, smiling faintly as he returned and handed her one of the glasses. “Thanks Severus.” Taking a sip of the bittersweet and very strong liquid she looked over at Moody. “Is everything all right?”
Moody didn’t answer, instead he merely pointed at something above Melin and Snape’s heads.
Melin turned bright red as she realized that she and Snape had once again sat under the mistletoe. “Are you trying to hint at something Alastor?” She looked over at Snape and laughed quietly as she watched him blanch.
“You know tradition.” Growled Moody.
‘Anything to shut this guy up.’ Thought Snape. Leaning close to Melin he took hold of her chin and pressed his lips against hers. He had intended on making it just a quick peck on the lips, but for some reason a voice inside him told him not to. He could taste the nettle wine on Melin’s lips, making the kiss all the more intoxicating. His eyebrows shot up as he felt Melin kiss him back, and he became aware of her hand on top of his. Breaking away from the kiss he tried to say something but was interrupted as Karkaroff came up to the table. His face instantly souring, almost like he had bitten into a lemon, he looked over at Karkaroff with a scowl.
Karkaroff gave a curt nod to Moody and Melin before turning to Snape. “We need to talk Severus…now.”
Still scowling Snape stood up and followed after Karkaroff, his robes billowing behind him as he cut across the dance floor and out of the hall, the dancers clearing a wide path for him.
“Now I wonder what that was all about?” Growled Moody. He lowered his voice so only Melin could hear him. “It’s not every day two former Death Eaters go off for a walk alone.”
Melin shrugged and finished the rest of her wine, the memory of Snape’s kiss still lingering in her mind. Pretending to be tired she stood up and smiled slightly. “I think I’ll turn in for the night. I still have a lot of papers to grade.” Making her way out of the great hall she walked down the front steps and onto one of the paths, every now and then dodging spooked students (one could only guess why they looked like they were about to wet their pants) and smoking bushes. “Looks like Severus’ handy work.” She muttered to herself as she pulled the hood of her cloak up. Up ahead she could hear two men talking in hushed voices, every now and then the voices were accentuated with the sound of a small explosion, leaving Melin to guess that Snape’s mood had turned fouler than usual. Stepping off the path she hid behind a large mound of snow, her cloak helping her to blend in, and watched as Snape and Karkaroff rounded the corner, Snape blasting random bushes as he walked. Aside from the squeals of the irritated fairies Melin could hear students cry out in alarm. Raising her eyebrows Melin stood on her toes for a better look, just barely stopping herself from laughing as two students bolted from under the bush Snape had just blasted. She watched as Snape told Karkaroff to flee, her mind wondering what Snape was telling him to flee from. As Snape rounded the corner of the path and began making his way towards were she was she gasped and tried to hide. Lucky for her Snape stormed past her without even seeing her. Looking up Melin spotted Karkaroff making his way back towards his ship. Raising an eyebrow Melin stood up and followed after Snape.
She didn’t have to go far, for just around the next bend she spotted Snape sitting on a bench, apparently very interested in something on his left arm. Walking up to him she sat down next to him, surprised that he hadn’t tried to hide his arm from her. “It’s back isn’t it?”
Snape nearly jumped out of his skin. Pulling his sleeve back down he was about to go for his wand when he realized who was sitting next to him. A frown appeared on his face as he looked over at Melin. “And what exactly would that be?” He tensed slightly as Melin touched the spot on his arm where the Dark Mark was burned into his skin. “How long have you known?”
“You really don’t remember me being in the Order?” Lowering the hood of her cloak Melin shrugged. “I’ve known since you chose to help out.”
Rubbing his left arm Snape looked over at Melin, the taste of their kiss still lingering on his lips. “Why did you follow me?”
Melin shrugged again. “I just wanted to get away from the noise, I didn’t plan on following you. Though now that I’m here,” she smiled faintly, “I don’t see any reason to leave.”
Snape reached out his hands and pulled Melin to him, smirking slightly as she gasped, and kissed her again. Because the wine was so strong, coupled with the fact that he hardly ever drank, the wine was really getting to him, everything was swimming in a fog, and he couldn’t stop himself.
Melin broke away from the kiss, her breath coming in gasps and tried to pull away from Snape. There was something frightening about what was happening, almost as if it had happened before. Breaking away from him she stood up quickly and looked down at him. “I-I need to get back to grading those papers.” Turning on her heel she ran back down the path and up to the castle, stopping only once she had reached her office. Touching her fingers to her lips she thought back on the kiss for a moment. She knew that Snape rarely drank, that he was probably acting from the alcohol, which for some reason was unusually strong, and she didn’t want either of them to wake up the next morning regretting something they had done. Taking off her cloak she tossed it onto the coat rack in the corner and made her way to her room, where she stripped off her robe and hung it up, pulling on instead a pair of blue pajamas. She pulled her hair out of the bun and flopped down on her bed, her brother’s words echoing in her head. Perhaps you have grown so used to seeing him as a rival that that is all you can see now. As I said, the reason you originally hated him was a silly reason, one that you will come to remember in time, but I think now you have just grown so used to hating him that you continue to do so out of habit. Rolling on to her side she curled up against one of her large fluffy pillows and sighed. Why couldn’t she remember the reason? Closing her eyes she sighed again, wondering what would have happened if she hadn’t run away when she had. It surprised her that she was actually wanting to go back out there, to find him again, but knowing him his mood would have already turned dark again and he would probably blast her like he was doing to the bushes.