Coming back

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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.

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