autumn | severus snape

five | fences

"No, Miss Delisle," Snape's rich voice pulled her out of her thoughts, "I do not stroll around naked."

Ophelia gasped, "hey! My thoughts are private."

"Not when they are about me," he smirked.

He was very attractive, really, when he did that.

"Didn't you ever learn that it is rude to stare, Miss Delisle?" Snape spoke again.

She blinked up at him, the depth of his black eyes enchanting her, drawing her in. She hummed and then redirected her gaze to her hands, mumbling an apology.

"What is it that you talk to my father about?" She couldn't help asking, her curiosity got the better of her.

"I don't believe that is any of your business, little girl," Snape sneered.

She frowned at the nickname and then decided not to press any further, not that night, anyway. Her mother entered the patio, putting down a bowl of salad on the table. Snape watched as Ophelia carefully removed her hair from her face and tucked it behind her ears.

"It took her years to grow her hair long, and then she cut it all off," Ophelia's mother whispered to Snape, as if she knew he was watching.

His lips formed a thin line as he nodded slowly. He had noticed that she often ran her hands through her hair, wincing when it came to an abrupt end, as if she expected there to be more of it. Her mother disappeared inside the house once again, leaving Snape to his thinking.

And then she was staring at him again, his mouth parted as he was staring straight ahead, but not quite seeing at all. She licked her lips and found herself wondering what he was thinking about.

"So," Ophelia spoke after a moment of silence. "Are you going to the midsummer event?" She asked.

"What is midsummer?" He frowned.

"It's a Nordic tradition," she started, "you come together with family and friends on the longest day of the year; the day when the sun only sets for an hour or two." Ophelia saw Ana coming out of the house with plates in her hands. "At first, it was to celebrate women's fertility. Now, it's mostly an excuse to get drunk," she grinned.

"But, you are not from Europe?" Snape sat down at the table, across from Ophelia as Ana set the table.

"Mother is, isn't she?" Ana joined the conversation.

"Yeah," Ophelia nodded. "She was born and raised in Sweden, until she moved to the States and met my father."

"Seems like a meaningless tradition, if you ask me," Snape huffed.

"Good thing I wasn't asking, then!" Ophelia snapped.

"You asked me if I was going," he looked at her with narrowed eyes.

"That's not the same thing," Ophelia stated.

"Could have fooled me," Snape murmured.

"Why do you always have to pick a fight, Professor?" Ophelia asked, irritation written across her face.

"I am not picking a fight, Miss Delisle," Snape spat. "I'm merely stating a fact."

"Could have fooled me," she mocked him.

"Now who's picking a fight?" He smirked.

"Asshole," Ophelia said under her breath and then stood up and left her seat.

"Where are you going?" Ana asked.

"Just getting the glasses," Ophelia said as she gave her little sister a small smile.

She made her way to the kitchen. When Snape was over, they would always end up fighting or irritated with one another.

"Are you being polite to Severus?" Ophelia's mother asked as soon as she reached the kitchen.

"Yes, mother," she answered.

"He will be around a lot more from now on," her mother said as she continued to chop vegetables. "I wish you would spend some more time with us."

"What do you mean?" Ophelia furrowed her eyebrows. "I'm here all the time, in fact, you almost never let me leave."

"You never stay for dinner whenever Severus is here, you always go out with that," her mother paused, "that filthy boy," her mother had raised her voice and they were now standing face to face.

"Cory is not filthy," Ophelia growled. "What is wrong with you?"

"Ever since Peter died, you have become so closed up in your own world," her mother was now glaring at her, face reddening. "Always lost in a book or out with your friends until late in the morning." Ophelia could feel a burning sensation in her chest, she knew it was the anger rising. "You don't think we miss him too? We do! But Peter had to take the consequences of his own actions, it's time to move on, Ophelia."

Rage built up like deep water currents. She did everything right, everything, and their place was still a Goddamn mess. Everything that had happened was what she made and that's when her anger comes, unleashed without thought of consequence.

"Don't you dare talk about Peter that way," Ophelia snapped. "You know, mother, sometimes I wish I could be like you," she narrowed her eyes as her voice laced with venom. "Just, turn off all those emotions and move on so easily," she shook her head and started to walk away. "But for some of us, when you lose someone you love, it's going to hurt for the rest of your life!" And with that, she stormed out of the kitchen.

She passed Snape and Ana who were now standing by the couch in the living room, talking about something. Ophelia almost bumped into her father but stopped herself just in time.

"Where are you going?" Her father asked.

"Out," Ophelia growled as she tried to move past him.

"You promised your mother to eat with us," her father said, more like a warning than a statement.

"I don't care, you can't force me," Ophelia said through gritted teeth as she pushed past him.

Snape watched the girl interact with her father, contempt clearly written across her face. He started to wonder what had happened to her, that made her despise her father so terribly. Mr. Delisle had told him about the death of her twin brother, many details left unsaid, however.

"Ophelia, if you step out that door, there will be consequences!" Her father yelled.

"See how many fucks I give!" Ophelia yelled back as she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.