No Apologies

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December 1976

Slytherin beat Ravenclaw in their second Quidditch game of the season, and the green common room was once more packed as the students celebrated their victory with food stolen from the kitchens and some spiked punch – courtesy of a seventh-year student.

It was way past curfew hours when Professor Slughorn entered the Slytherin Common Room and ordered everybody to bed, reminding them of the points they had already lost at the last party.

Once the students emptied the common room, the space was quickly taken over by house elves, who left it clean and organised, ready for another day of students messing it all up.

Florence was in her bed – having already showered and put on some comfortable pyjamas – staring at the bottom of the lake through the window by her bed.

She felt too excited to sleep, the awesome game and the long party afterwards had left her wide awake, so she decided to go back to the Common Room to see if she could find someone to talk to until sleep arrived.

She quietly walked out of the girls' dormitory and soon found someone in the common room – the best person she could find to help her relax to sleep: her boyfriend.

Severus was still awake, already in his sleeping clothes, hair tied in a low ponytail at the back of his neck; he was sitting on the floor by the fireplace with a book – Practical Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts – on his lap and he seemed very absorbed by it, taking notes on some papers by his side.

Florence walked to him, sitting on the rug by his side, "Hey, Sev. Can't sleep either?" she said, kissing his neck, "Quite a party we had before, right?" she rubbed her shoulder on his, trying to get his attention.

"I wouldn't know," he said in a bored tone, never taking his eyes from the book, "I wasn't here. You know I don't really care about Quidditch." 

Florence frowned, finding his whole demeanour strange; she looked at the pages he was reading and concluded he was studying the physical effects a dementor had on people when they were exposed to it for a long time. She had no idea why he was reading about that; they had already finished studying dementors three weeks ago.

"Well," she tried again to get him to take his eyes off the book, "If I had to choose, I'd much rather be alone with you than at any Quidditch party," she touched her nose to his neck, one hand landing on his thigh and moving upwards slowly.

But Severus still didn't move to touch her; his body tensing up instead of relaxing under her touches, and he had yet to look at her, his eyes fixed on the book that was now partially covered by her hair.

Florence sighed in frustration, "What's going on, Severus?"

"Nothing."

She glared at him, "If you don't tell me what's wrong, I can't help you."

"Nothing is wrong. And I don't need your help."

Florence stood up, angrily taking the book from his hands.

"Give it back!" Severus ordered, getting up from the floor as well.

"Tell me what the fuck is wrong with you and then I'll give your damn book back!"

"You're not the centre of the universe, Florence. Not everything has to be about you!" he shouted.

She stared at him in surprise, he had never spoken to her like that before. Something was clearly very very wrong with him.

"I have no idea why you think you can talk to me like that," she said, not raising her voice – a part of her recognising in her own tone, for the first time, the same fear-inducing quality of father's voice, "You want to read by yourself, just say so. But I won't tolerate this kind of treatment," she looked at the book in her hand again, suddenly realising something, "Only... you known that already, so maybe... you're trying to make me leave because this has something to do with You-Know-Who."

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