Hell's Last Lantern | A Severus Snape x OC Romance

Chapter Four

'A student. She's a fucking student. Fucking fuck. Way to go, Severus, wanking to a student, you disgusting old git.'

Words couldn't describe the sensation of the icy tendrils of shame that had gripped at his chest when he saw her again. The irony of longing after her all night, only to see her the next day but find it appalling was not lost on him. Why was it that when he dared desire something, indulge in something, it always came back to bite him? It's like he'd been cursed, destined to look but not touch, smell but not taste. Everything he wanted was somehow wrong and perverse.

His interest and skill in the Dark Arts had been born of his need to protect himself and his mother from his piece of shit muggle father, and how was that his fault? Why was it that when a helpless child learned to not be helpless, finding some way to defend themselves, it was always wrong or dysfunctional?

They  refused to intervene and offer help, so he had to do it himself. When he finally did what he had to do to protect himself and his mother, that's  when they  decided it was time to intervene, but not to help him; to criticize and punish him for protecting himself. How was that fair?

But he knew life wasn't fair, and there was no use whining about it.

He filed away the angst he felt for the future, the grief for the past, and the guilt for this tiny nuisance in the present that had somehow grown to take up a surprising amount of space in his already-crammed mind.

It had been a couple of days since the Start-of-Term Feast. The arrival of Dolores Umbridge had been expected to be somewhat disagreeable, as all matters involving the ministry inevitably are, but something about the woman was...unnerving. Irritating. Her sickeningly sweet persona had an underhandedness to it. And considering her vote against Potter in the Wizengamot hearing, the term ahead was already looking increasingly bleak and sure to be full of new headaches.

As much as he wanted to blame the little rat, he couldn't deny that the ruling had obviously been a ministry ploy to discredit Potter's testimony about the Dark Lord's return because he and Dumbledore together cut an impressive figure in the magical community and had many rallying behind them. They no doubt also wanted him out of the way for the school term so he couldn't meddle with their curricular takeover. However, the Ministry didn't account for Potter's arrogance and stubborn insistence on being at the center of attention. He would weasel his way front and center of their plans, and while that worried and annoyed Snape to no end, he also felt the tiniest tinge of gratification bubbling in his chest at the thought of the Ministry not getting their way, and of Potter being the pebble in someone else's shoe for a change.

He had just left an impromptu discussion on the whole affair with the Headmaster and was passing through the corridors when he saw a flash of honey-brown hair, glistening in the golden hour light that streamed in from the courtyard. Then she laughed and he despised the way his breath caught in his chest...and the irritating plummet in his gut at the sight of a Weasley for having the nerve to be the one making her laugh.

Why did he care? He didn't. He couldn't care less, actually, even if he tried. Which he didn't need to do, because he didn't care.

There, that settled it.

His long strides took him into the depths of the castle towards his office, a flare of annoyance rising in his chest when he detected a young man piddling about in his classroom.

"Sharpp."

"Severus! Good to see you again," said the handsome wizard, turning to face him with a winning smile. "I see you've done well for yourself, still working for Albus Dumbledore."

Snape's eyes narrowed, "Why did you apply for this position? I find it interesting that you'd concern yourself with something so trivial as becoming a teacher's aide."