autumn | severus snape

five | fences

Snape had been over every other night since their little mishap in his house. It had been two weeks since their fight and her father hadn't made her take any more lessons. Every time Snape knocked on their door he claimed he needed to speak with Ophelia's father, the next visit more important than the last. That Saturday night was no exception.

"Miss Delisle," he greeted her respectfully.

Ophelia had come to learn that Snape only treated her decently when her father was around. The same went for her.

"Professor," she acknowledged him.

"This way, please, Severus," her father gestured towards his office.

When Snape visited her father, they usually stayed in that office for hours. What they could possibly talk about for so long every night, Ophelia had no idea. Some nights, Snape would even stay for dinner. Ophelia thought of those nights as very awkward and would often leave the mansion before the meeting was over. That night, however, her mother demanded her presence at the dinner table.

"Severus, will you stay for dinner?" Ophelia's mother asked hopefully.

"I wouldn't want to intrude," Snape answered as his eyes traveled around the room to meet Ophelia's. He knew she became very uncomfortable whenever he stayed after a conversation with her father.

"Nonsense, you're always welcome," her mother smiled. "Isn't that right, Ophelia?"

Ophelia couldn't help but make a grimace at the use of her name. There was something about the way she said it, like it was dirty.

"Of course," Ophelia gave the Professor a half hearted smile.

"It's decided then," her mother smiled as she clapped her hands together. "Dinner will be ready in a few minutes, Ophelia, why don't you prepare a drink for our guest?" Her mother gave her a meaningful look, telling her to behave, that this man was very important for some reason.

"Of course, mother," Ophelia mumbled as she led Snape out to the patio where they would have dinner later, where her father had generously enough put out some of his bottles.

"Your mother is very persistent," Snape stated.

"You don't know the half of it," Ophelia huffed. "What do you prefer, Professor?"

"I'm not much of a drinker," Snape replied. "Surprise me."

"Alright, then," Ophelia sighed, thinking about what the man could possibly like.

She mixed some dry gin, campari and vermouth rosso with some ice and then poured it into a glass. She handed it to Snape and watched him as he took a sip of it.

"What is this?" He asked as he furrowed his eyebrows.

"It's called a negroni, Professor, it's perfect for summer nights like these," Ophelia answered with a smirk.

"It's a muggle drink," Snape mumbled as he took another sip.

"You don't have to drink it, you know?" she sneered as she sat down in one of the chairs.

"No!" He snapped. "It would be rude not to finish it," he continued as Ophelia let out a laugh.

"Whatever you say, Professor," she smirked.

"Infuriating," Snape murmured as he downed the rest of his drink.

She couldn't help run her eyes over his frame as he was sitting across from her. He was wearing his usual robes, and she wondered if he wore the same ones everyday or if he had ten of the same in his closet. And if he only had that one pair, what was he wearing on the days that his robes needed to be washed? Did he simply stroll around.. naked?