A/N: shouts out to all you potential new readers who just skipped ahead to this chapter to see what's up. yeah that's right. i see you 😉
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"Asha..." Severus began.
"Don't," she cut him off sharply. "They're just facts. It's just what happened. And now you know and you don't have to wonder anymore."
Severus immediately understood what Asha wanted. He backed off, offering no pity or compassion. He knew that sometimes the interfering touch of compassion could be the thing that breaks a person.
Instead, he conjured a new tumbler, walked around her to where the half-empty bottle of gin sat balanced on the railing, and filled the glass a third of the way.
He placed it in her hand
"Thanks," she murmured.
She combed her hair out of her face and took a generous sip.
They stood in silence for several moments.
"You owe me some good stories after that," Asha joked mildly, trying to put some distance between herself and her horrific confession. "You know pretty much everything there is to know about me. And for how much we talk, I know next to nothing about you."
Severus scoffed. In some ways, Asha still felt like a total enigma to him. And, as per usual, he wasn't keen to divulge anything personal about himself. But after what she had just shared, he supposed he owed her something.
"Fine," he accepted. He took a moment to pull together some innocuous information about himself. "I grew up in Cokeworth, on a street called Spinner's End. I still own the house there." He was speaking as if he were reciting a to-do list. "My mother was a witch - Eileen, my father a muggle." He paused. "And I never liked Christmas."
Asha waited for more, but he gave her a look that quite clearly said 'I'm done.'
She sighed. "I guess that will do for now," and with a small smile, "Cokeworth, huh?"
Severus sipped his drink in lieu of replying.
Despite Asha's efforts to lighten the mood, the events of that horrendous night in the warehouse were still fresh in her mind. Gut-wrenching images of fire and destruction kept flashing before her eyes, as if materialising out of the darkness.
In the silence, she cast her eyes around, searching for anything to pull her away from those stomach-churning memories. Her gaze landed on a silver button on the cuff of Severus' doublet. It glinted as he raised his hand to take yet another sip of liquor. The sight drew her back into the present.
From the silver button, her eyes wandered over Severus' outfit. Even in the dim starlight, his shoes had a glossy shine to them. Asha felt her emotions, her mental state, mercifully shifting into a different space.
It was difficult to make out any kind of detail in the dark, but she liked seeing Severus without his cloak on. Unlike his usual jacket, the shorter cut of his doublet meant his straight-leg trousers were visible up to his leather belt.
"Is my Ball attire acceptable?" came Severus' voice, warm with amusement. Asha's insides lurched with embarrassment, though visibly she remained unfazed.
"According to my standards, a potato sack would've been acceptable," she retorted.
Mouth closed, Severus breathed a laugh. "Well, even after the last minute coaxing, you still managed to front up dressed in something slightly nicer than a potato sack."
"Oh wow, Severus," Asha jeered, "that is quite the compliment."
"The first I've given all year, in fact."
"Well, I'm flattered," she declared with mock-sincerity and gave a small, ironic curtsy.
Severus smiled into his glass as he sipped from it.
"Actually, the dress did turn out to be a bit of a last-minute mission," Asha admitted. "I couldn't figure out how to transfigure the fabric into actual silk. It looks almost like silk, but it definitely doesn't feel like it." She rubbed the material at her thighs between her fingers, frowning: it was much thicker and rougher than true silk.
"You can't expect to master every spell in the book in four years," Severus chuckled. It was a rich, deep sound Asha had never heard from him before. It made the hairs on her neck tingle. The alcohol must've finally started to kick in.
While keeping his eyes on Asha's, Severus reached for the inside pocket of his jacket and drew out his wand. With one hand resting daintily on the marble railing, Asha's gaze flickered to the wand then back to Severus' eyes. He gave a slight nod of his head towards her dress and the tiniest raise of an eyebrow. The expression was so subtle, most would've thought Severus was showing no sign of communication. But Asha could read him clear as day; 'May I?'
She responded with an almost equally subtle gesture. A tug at one corner of her lips and a little shrug of one shoulder; 'Oh okay, why not?'
Dropping his wand to her torso, Severus spoke several incantations which were unfamiliar to Asha. The words pooled from his mouth and as soon as his tongue wrapped around the final syllable, Asha experienced a gentle rippling sensation where the dress touched her skin. An instant later, the fabric turned to true silk.
Severus' heart gave an uncomfortable jolt. Unlike the previous dress material, which, while it looked like silk, was in actuality thicker and stiffer, the new shiny black fabric slid over Asha's features like the silent, bubble-less stream of a water feature. It flowed over every bump and curve of her body like a second skin. In a split second, he soaked it all in, out of his peripheral vision. He had no control over it. It was a terrible feeling - how perfect she was.
Asha didn't have to look down to suddenly feel exposed. The sensation gave it away: the soothing, cool whisper of the night air on her skin; the fabric so thin and soft that it left her body totally unrestrained; like she was wearing nothing at all. Unexpectedly, she didn't find the feeling unpleasant, embarrassing or alarming.
She glanced down at herself to admire Severus' handiwork. When she saw how perfected and sensual her dress had become, she bit her lip unconsciously. The desire was in her head before she understood it was there. Like an instinct. A distinct thrill. She wanted Severus to notice her. To look at her. She wanted him to see her in that way. Even if it was just for a second.
She lifted her gaze, hoping, without knowing it, to find Severus' eyes wandering where she wanted them to be. But no. He had turned away, looking out over the balcony again. Asha followed suit, leaning her arms on the railing.
"Thanks," she murmured, then, "I would say I should try to learn that one, but I'm hoping I'll never find myself at such a glamorous event again."
"Transfiguration of pure materials can be a very useful skill," Severus hummed.
"I'll keep that in mind."
Just then, the clocktower chimed. What was the time? Asha suddenly wondered what she was still doing out here. She'd obliged to show her face at the Ball for a significant part of the night. Now, her job was done. It had been for a while. She could go to bed. But there was a magnetisation in the air, willing her to stay, even if she and Severus had run out of things to talk about. In fact, why was Severus still here? She glanced over at him. He was looking at her. She opened her mouth, about to speak, but Severus got there first.
"Can I see it?" he asked.
At the confused look on her face, he tilted his head to the side and his eyes moved down to her back before returning to her gaze. It took Asha a beat to realise what he was talking about. Then it hit her. Her scar.
She bit her lip and looked at him, suddenly feeling strangely nervous.
"I suppose," she consented.
Severus knew he had no reason to see Asha's scar. He doubted he would be able to heal it, given Albus had already failed. He had no reason to look at it, other than pure curiosity.
They both placed down their drinks. He moved to stand behind her as she faced out over the garden, her hands resting lightly on the railing.
As Severus stood behind Asha, he looked down at the waves of hair cascading down her body and an urge snuck up on him to place his hands on her hips. He dismissed the desire in an instant, but before he could stop himself, he was imagining the feeling of running his hands up the curves of her waist, rubbing the silk of her dress over her soft skin.
Resuming his focus, he used his fingers to gently draw her hair over one shoulder, exposing the smooth bare skin of her back where he knew the scar was etched. He took out his wand and drawing it in a long, slow motion down her back, he murmured the incantation.
To Asha, his voice seemed to pour from his mouth and trickle down her neck right to the base of her spine. When his deep, velvety words stopped, she experienced the familiar ice-cold wash as the concealment charm dissolved.
Severus had never seen a scar quite like it. Even in the darkness, the thin white line was immediately noticeable, almost shining.
Asha gave a small, sharp inhale as she felt Severus lightly touch two fingers to the base of her neck. He began to trail them softly and slowly down the length of her scar. Her entire body prickled with goosebumps. As his fingers slid over her skin, she couldn't help imagining what it would feel like for him to run his fingers over her entire body, over every inch of her skin. She suppressed a shiver.
It felt like both forever and no time at all before Severus' fingers reached the base of her scar. He held his hand there for a moment.
"I might actually be able to heal it," he said, his silky tone quiet in her ear. Drinking spirits somehow made his voice even deeper. "Albus only had a few hours when he attempted to do it. We have more time now."
Asha figured she must've imagined the subtle tickle of his breath on her neck as he spoke. There was no way he would stand so near. Regardless, unbidden came an aching desire for Severus to lean in closer. Where she had imagined sensing his breath on her neck, she wanted to feel his lips instead.
"I don't know if I want it healed," she whispered, hyper-aware of his fingers still gently brushing her back. Her scar served as a reminder of that night in the warehouse. A form of atonement.
She expected Severus to question or counter her, or tell her she was being silly.
Instead, he said, "Okay."
This time she definitely felt the warm tingle of his breath on her ear. She could feel the heat of his body behind her. He was so close. She suddenly had an overwhelming longing for him to wrap his arms around her. Never before had a person made her feel so secure, and so her. She wanted him to hold her close and never let go. He made her feel so safe. As if touching him would be like going home. Going to the place where she belonged. It was a yearning that filled her chest like a balloon ready to burst.
But rather than embracing her like she so desperately wanted, Severus removed his hand from her back. She felt empty without his warmth flooding through his fingertips and onto her skin. The alcohol in her blood was making her head float. All she knew was that she liked how it felt to have Severus so close.
It was as if her body moved before her mind had made the decision. Asha turned on the spot until the marble railing was pressed into her back and Severus stood only inches in front of her.
She couldn't bring herself to look into those intensely black eyes. Instead, her gaze remained lowered, fixed on the many buttons that trailed down his chest.
Severus felt his stomach tighten several notches. Now that Asha was facing him, it suddenly became apparent how close he had come to her as he had examined her scar. He watched Asha's eyes through the eaves of her long, perfectly curled lashes. She was avoiding his gaze – something he was used to from other people, but rarely from Asha. In his peripheral, he could see the rise and fall of her chest and her hands braced on the railing either side of her.
Severus took a breath, about to say something, but the words died on his lips. Asha had reached up and was gently holding the lapels of his jacket between her fingers. He froze, feeling her knuckles against his chest. Alcohol was burning through his veins. He had been touched by many women before, in more significant ways than this, but none of those encounters had induced such a skin-crawling feeling of intense intimacy.
Asha had no idea what possessed her to raise her hands to Severus' jacket. All her senses were heightened. Her heart seemed to beat from her face as the warmth of his shirt beneath his jacket radiated against her fingers. She wanted to close her fists tight and pull herself against him. Press her body against his.
Instead, she rubbed the firm yet silky texture of the lapels beneath her fingers.
"Fabric up to your standards?" Severus murmured, his baritone reverberating through Asha's entire body. She parted her lips to retort, but nothing came out. She couldn't speak. This didn't feel real. She felt so out of control. She couldn't let go of his stupid collar. She didn't want to let go. She could feel the faint beat of his heart beneath his solid chest. She could smell his cologne, slightly oaky, slightly sweet. Her head was buzzing.
Severus was glued to the spot. He wanted to retreat but he didn't trust himself to move. His primal instincts were screaming at him to bring his hands to her skin; her hips; her hair; any part of her, it didn't matter. But he was certainly not going to give in to that impulse.
"Asha," he whispered. At the sound of her name rolling from his lips, her eyes still slightly lowered to his chest, she leaned towards him. She just wanted to be closer. She wanted to press her face into the crook of his neck. She could imagine what his soft, warm skin would feel like against her forehead... against her lips; the feeling of her lips pressed against his neck; his arms wrapped tight around her waist...
Her head swam. Time was passing in slow motion. Now she wasn't just moving closer but pulling him closer as well. Still gripping his jacket, her forearms pressed gently against his torso. She could feel the warm eddies of her own breath as it bounced off Severus' neck. Her body was going strangely fuzzy. This feeling was far better and more vivid than any drug.
"Asha," Severus whispered again.
Her scalp tingled like a million microscopic fairies were tugging at her hair.
"Stop."
She froze. His soft words rang in her ears like a distance echo. What did he just say? Her mind recalibrated like a camera zooming into focus. Stop. She took a sharp intake of breath and pushed herself back from him, suddenly horrified at what she was doing. Instantly she let go of his collar, leaving her hands hovering in mid-air.
Severus took a good step back.
Still in a state of alarm, Asha sharply turned away and brought her fingers to her temples. She was hit by a wave of nausea. Dropping her elbows on to the railing she put her head in her hands. She stared down in disbelief at the foliage below. What had she been doing? What had she been thinking? She was only just now realising how drunk she really was.
"Oh god," she managed, cringing, "I'm sorry."
She was rapidly trying to compose herself but it was proving to be difficult – something she wasn't used to. There was a rustle of fabric several feet behind her. She risked a glance. Severus was calmly straightening his collar, his face a mask. She quickly turned away again and gave a nervous laugh, cursing under her breath.
"Sorry. That was..." she sighed and laughed again, already more gently and naturally. "I'm just drunk and lonely," she admitted. It was meant as a bit of a joke, and her tone was light-hearted but as she said the word 'lonely', a lump rose in her throat.
That makes two of us, Severus thought to himself wryly. A few minutes ago he might've spoken the sentiment aloud, but recent events had sobered him up significantly and now he was far too on guard for a tipsy slip of the tongue.
Once again Severus heard that voice inside him, warning him to leave. Go. Flee. But once again, he didn't listen. Much more cautious than earlier, he walked over to stand beside Asha, though now with a good couple of feet between them. Asha straightened up, already appearing perfectly collected. She looked at him. He rested one hip against the railing and folded his arms, looking back at her under heavy brows, face inscrutable. To Severus' surprise, he witnessed a ripple of slight discomposure run through Asha and she averted her eyes, pulling a face of resigned embarrassment.
She raised an arm and the long-forgotten bottle of gin zoomed into her hand. The motion was slightly more violent and uncontrolled than usual but luckily the bottle was empty enough not to spill. She went to take a swig straight from the bottle.
"I think," Severus said, loud enough for Asha to hesitate, "you've had enough of that." He wrapped his fingers around the neck of the bottle and Asha didn't protest as he slipped it from her grip. He took out his wand and tapped the bottle. It vanished. Asha scrunched up her face, conveying her annoyance.
"That takes some effort to obtain, you know," she pointed out.
"A shame," Severus said mildly.
There was a somewhat uncomfortable silence.
"Okay, well, if there's no more booze, I've embarrassed myself enough for tonight. I clearly need to go to bed," Asha declared resolutely, deciding she didn't care about anything anymore except flopping onto her mattress and remaining there indefinitely.
Severus raised his eyebrows at her. She took out her wand and, with a wave, vanished the crystal tumblers (including the one still lying in the garden below the balcony). She was surprised she managed it, given she was starting to feel more and more drunk every minute. "Goodnight then," she bid as she made for the courtyard.
"Asha, wait," she heard Severus call. His voice had returned to the smooth yet commanding tone she was used to.
Her stomach swooped with apprehension. She paused, waiting to hear what he had to say.
"Let me re-conceal your scar."
Asha took a breath, ready to say, 'Thanks but I'm perfectly capable of doing it myself,' but at the last minute, all that came out was: "Fine."
She heard the approach of his footsteps. With the world spinning a little, she was finding it rather challenging to stand up, still and straight, without the help of the railing.
The hairs on her neck raised as Severus came to a stop behind her. He lingered a moment, then Asha felt the icy trickle of the disillusionment charm down her spine and a soft movement of air as he stepped away.
Just then, the night seemed to become jarringly silent. Asha looked around. The music had stopped. The Yule Ball had finally come to a close.
"What a shame," she said dryly, "it looks like I won't get a chance to show off any more of my dance moves."
"You say that sarcastically, but you surprised me earlier with your enthusiasm," Severus remarked. "I didn't think you'd be one for dancing, but evidently I was mistaken."
"Well, I'm full of surprises."
Severus gave a percussive exhale, and moved his gaze to the low hanging moon. "You certainly are."
Asha also made to look at the moon but the horizon oscillated nauseatingly. Instead, she walked over to the marble bench, the ground swaying beneath her feet, and slumped down, resting back against the rough castle wall.
After a period of time of which Asha had no concrete measure of, Severus peered over his shoulder at her.
"Stay here," she vaguely remembered hearing him say. After what she could've sworn was only a few seconds, he was back. He handed her something. A cloth. Even in her inebriated state, she recognised what it was.
"If I wanted to be sober, I wouldn't've gotten drunk," she stated stubbornly. Severus sighed.
"Fine. Just wave this under your nose." He took back the damp cloth and handed her a vial.
With one sweep under her nose, Asha's head cleared to the point of being only tipsy. The world no longer swayed.
"I suppose that feels slightly better," she reluctantly admitted.
Severus vanished the cloth, then corked and pocketed the vial, careful not to inhale any of the fumes himself. Asha looked up at him.
"I'll see you in the morning," he said, direct and emotionless, before turning and striding away into the darkness.
"Bye," Asha muttered, knowing Severus was already far too distant to hear her.
Walking back through the courtyard and castle, Asha was surprised to see many students still scattered throughout the castle. It wasn't often that students were allowed to be out of bed and wandering around at this time of night. Thus, many of the Hogwarts students were making the most of this novelty. Friends huddled, debriefing under the light of sconces. Partners revelled in the opportunity to be glued together in quiet corners.
When Asha arrived back at her dorm, she found the room empty. She stripped off her dress and makeup and pulled on cosy sweats. She couldn't stop thinking about Severus. It was driving her insane. That feeling of her knuckles against his chest; his scent; his heat; the touch of his fingers on her back...
She scoured her brain for anything that would take her mind off him. She couldn't stop imagining how it would feel to have his hands on her waist; imagining wrapping her arms around him; imagining the taste of his lips...
Stop it.
After some difficultly, she suddenly remembered her unopened present from Dumbledore. Surely it would be something interesting.
She pulled the box from her bedside draw and lifted the lid. Inside were a few dozen small scrolls, topped with a note:
Asha,
I know you are well versed on the War, but there are many details very few people know of. Enclosed are some of the messages your mother sent me while she was tracking Voldemort between 1971 and 1973. The subject matter is grim, but my hope is that reading your mother's words might help you to feel more connected to her. So much of who she was lives on in you. You are your mother's daughter, Asha. Do not forget that.
Albus
Throwing Dumbledore's note aside, Asha snatched a scroll from the collection and unrolled it. There, in slanted, curly black ink, was her mother's handwriting. Her mother's hand had once brushed this page and formed these words, straight from her mind. Straight from her.
The message began simply:
Albus,
Her mum drew her 'A's the same way Asha did, with the horizontal line extending obnoxiously out from the rest of the letter. Asha's eye's stung as a pure but complicated emotion flooded her body.
Words and phrases jumped out at her as she scanned the page: Dark Magic, continues to gather followers, Order of the Phoenix, laying low. She tried to read more but she found she wasn't interested. Not in the content of the messages. At least, not right now. In her hands was something her mother had once held. Had once dedicated her life to. Had once created and valued and protected. It was like a small piece of her.
Asha spent a long time just holding the letter, staring at it without quite seeing it. She felt paralysed, but not necessarily in a bad way. For the time being, Severus was forgotten. Or at least, thoughts of him were tucked into the back corners of her mind. She was struck by a nonsensical but unshakeable feeling of epiphany that her mother had been real. Wyetta had really walked this earth and had a life of her own. She wasn't just some mythical being that Asha and Cole had made up countless stories about.
Finally, Asha rolled up the parchment, being extremely careful not to crease it or smudge the ink. She gently placed it back within the collection of scrolls and closed the lid. Glowing warm and secure in her chest was a sense of connection with her mother that Asha had never felt before. She picked up the box and, tentatively, she hugged it to her chest, almost pretending it could substitute her mother's warm, loving embrace.
"Hi, Mum" she whispered into that place beyond, feeling in her heart that there was a chance her mother could hear her.
*
A/N: Oh sheeet, oh sheeet, who you figh'in! that's right bbyyy it's finally happening!
So, cat's out of the bag - "he had been touched by many women before" - ipso facto, this is 100% NOT an SS fanfic where Sev's a virgin. That... well... yeah im not so into that 😬✌🏼 And personally i think a non-virgin Sev isn't out of character. Sex is very different from intimate relationships... thoughts?
Less importantly, there was a lil Rick and Morty quote in there if anyone can spot it (but i'm doubtful of the audience overlap lol)
Fun fact: Anytime i felt sick or anxious i used to put on Rick and Morty and just listen to the audio cause it was so familiar to me i could watch the episodes in my head. This is why i have the most obscure Rick and Morty references in my brain - stored the spaces where general knowledge should be 🥴
It's been a while since I've thanked you guys for all the support so thank you so much ❤️❤️❤️ We're nearly at 2k votes and 25k reads! That's so amazing what the heck!
Plus a special extra thanks to my 70 gorgeous followers 🥰 if i ever get drunk and decide to publish my super embarrassing, basically-porn Alan Rickman one-shot that i wrote when i was like... okay it wasn't that long ago but still, you'll be the first to know 😝