A one time thing {Severus Snape}

Chapter 13: Coming back

She stood up quickly, her robe catching in her boot. She fell onto her knees giving a cry of pain as she landed heavily.

"Trying to fly without a broomstick?" came a slow amused drawl.

"Severus?" She turned, still on her knees to see Snape leaning against the wall, his arms folded.

"Couldn't get raisins so mints will have to do."

"Why?" she was confused and certain she was dreaming.

"They were all I could get," he replied smoothly, not moving from the wall.

"No... I mean why are you here?" she got to her feet awkwardly, making sure her robe was free this time

"Making sure you get on the train," he intoned lazily.

Meg bit her lip hard, refusing to cry.

"Damn you, Snape!" she spat and threw the bag at him. He caught it and put it back in his robes.

"Already been done," he told her quietly. "I damned myself twenty years ago."

She stared at him, tears in her eyes, but she refused to let him see them.

"And I'll be damning myself again if I let you get on that train without finding out why first!" He stood of the wall and crossed to her slowly, his dark eyes never leaving her face.

"I have to go home... things to sort out." She bent and picked up her bag, holding it against her, as if it was her last line of defence.

"I heard that in the staff room," he remarked and stopped close enough for her to have to look up to see his face.

"You were in the staff room?" she asked startled. "I didn't see you!"

"I'm surprised. Hillary Hooch nearly fell of her chair trying to get you to look in my direction."

"Oh... I...Oh..." Horror dawned on her as she remembered what she'd said to Dean.

"Oh, dear!" She sagged slightly. "I didn't mean it quite like that; that is to say, I would take you to meet my parents. If I thought you'd want to go, of course there is the problem that they've been dead awhile now, but I could always take you to their graves. I go quite frequently, although why you would want to see...."

"You're rambling, something I've come to expect, but not now Megan. Will you stay here, with me this weekend?"

He reached out a finger and touched her cold cheek gently.

She shut her eyes and sighed, her heart felt torn in two. She so badly wanted to say yes, let him take her back and give in. But she wasn't sure how much she could take. He pushed her away with one hand and drew her back with the other.

"I think we need to talk, Megan," he said softly, his whole hand cupping her cheek now. She felt so soft to his touch; he only had to touch her to feel some sort of peace settle in him. He needed her to stay.

"You don't talk, Severus, you growl, or you spit, or sneer, or you say nasty things. You don't know how to talk if it doesn't involve the word cauldron or potion..." He cut her off in the only way he knew would work. He pulled her to him and kissed her. One hand gripped the bag between them and tugged it from her hands to drop to the floor.

He slid his hands to her upper arms and pulling her up slightly, pressed her close to him.

Meg groaned; her hands clutched at his cloak. Her head spinning, the taste of him in her mouth, the feel of his tongue against hers, was enough to make her lean into him, demanding as much from him as he was demanding from her.