Chapter Text
"You're leaving again?"
You looked up from what you were packing and saw Gilderoy standing in the middle of your office.
"Yes, I was going to call you after I finished packing," you held your chin an inspected the room, "well, I don't even know what I should pack from this office."
"Are you off to another secret mission?" He smiled excitedly and sat by your desk.
"It's not so secret this time," you decided you didn't really need anything here. The head healer had laid you off the paperwork since you'd be officially working at Hogwarts— as a representative of St Mungo's, no less.
You did catch a few healers envying you for getting to see the Triwizard Tournament in action.
"Will you be working with Severus again?" Gilderoy asked.
"Yes, he'll be there," you said, with a held back smile. Even though you've seen him throughout the summer, you still felt like you missed him. Perhaps you missed working with him, it was fun last school year, even if he was a grumbling troll— an adorable one, really.
"The event's open for public, Gilderoy, you might even be able to see it— if Miriam lets you."
"I don't think she will," he scrunched up his nose, "she worries too much."
You chuckled, "Well, you can still write to me if you want. Write to Hogwarts."
"Of course! I'll send you more drawings!"
"I'd like that," you smiled, closing up the mostly empty case you brought with you.
Just as you bid Gilderoy goodbye, a knock was heard from the door.
"Excuse me, Ms Black?" it was the young healer from the front desk.
"Yes?"
"There's someone here who wants to see you I— I don't know who he is, he won't give me his name, but he seemed like he needs medical attention," she explained frantically. You looked at Gilderoy and told him to go return to his ward. "I— I can call security if you don't want to see him, Ms. Black.”
"No need, let me see if I know him," you set down your suitcase and followed the young healer to the front desk.
There, sat in the waiting room, was a man in an overcoat that was evidently too large for him, with what looked like blood soaking through the shoulder parts.
"Mister?" The young healer called as you both approached. The man looked up and you recognised his scarred face immediately.
"Remus?" You said in surprise, "Uh, it's alright, I'll take care of him." You nodded to the young healer and she reluctantly left the two of you.
Remus stood up and grimaced but at the same time tried to smile at you.
"You came to visit after all," you smirked, motioning for him to follow you to your office. He chuckled and walked with you.
"How have you been?" He asked.
"Honestly, Remus, let's talk when you've been properly healed. You're grimacing too much."
He chuckled again, wincing halfway through it.
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"So, how have you been?" Remus asked again, once he was properly cleaned and healed. The blood wouldn't come off his coat, but he insisted it was probably time to get rid of it anyway.
"Good, I suppose. I'm going back to Hogwarts for the upcoming school year," you smiled.
"They hired another werewolf?"
You both shared a laugh.
"No, actually I don't know who they hired to fill your position..." you tapped your chin in thought, "probably another lunatic. Dumbledore has a habit of hiring strange people, it seems— no offence, of course."
"None taken," he smirked easily.
"I was hired to supervise the Triwizard Tournament. Make sure nobody dies."
"Oh, of course!" he laughed, "I wish I could go watch it, alas, I'm juggling jobs at the moment."
"Would you like me to help you a bit? Just something for you to get by for awhile—"
"(f/n), please don't," he smiled, waving you off, "if I wanted money I could have asked Sirius."
"Right." You forgot that Sirius was free— well, on the run. Your parents didn't react too kindly to that, but there wasn't much they could do but be grateful that the ministry wasn't suspecting them anymore.
"How are things with... Severus?" Remus asked.
"Always for the gossip, aren't you?" You crossed your arms. He gave you a curious look. You sighed. "He's surprisingly..." sweet? Romantic? Tender? "...soft." Your voice was almost too quiet.
"Is he?" Remus said in genuine disbelief, "Who knew he had it in him..."
"I certainly didn't," you smirked, "it was a nice surprise." Remus gave you a sincere smile. He was happy for you. The smile didn't last for long, however, and was replaced by that mischievous look he has when he was about to ask you something absurd.
"Is he good in bed?" He waggled his eyebrows.
"Remus!" You picked up your quill and poked his hand.
"Ouch!" He exclaimed, still laughing all the while.
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You chatted amicably with Remus until you realised it was time for you to leave. You bid him farewell and he pulled you into a friendly hug before he left, promising to write sometime, maybe.
"You're late," Severus greeted as you arrived in the staff room.
"A patient kept me," you sat next to him and he handed you a glass of what you presumed to be something alcoholic. "What did I miss?"
You both turned your heads as a loud cheer erupted in the middle of the room.
"Nothing, really," he said monotonously, clearly bored to death.
“This is your fault,” you said, sipping your drink. You didn't expect to be drinking right after arriving at Hogwarts, but... “I could have gotten us tickets, Severus. Why didn’t you remind me?” You grumbled.
You had told him you’d get tickets to the Quidditch World Cup earlier in the week, but he was adamant that you ‘need not spoil him with such things’. You actually planned to get tickets anyway but heard that Lucius would be attending the finals... Merlin knows what he'll say if he saw the two of you in the luxury box.
Now, you were stuck in the back of the staff room, watching the rest of the professors cheer on a live broadcast of the World Cup finals from the only wireless in the middle of the room. There wasn’t even anything to watch, as wizards don’t have television, but the crowd around the radio was excited nonetheless.
Dumbledore had insisted you and Severus join in the fun, with the promise of drinks.
You gulped down your drink and looked down at your empty glass. The alcohol wasn't even that good. You held up your glass to summon a refill.
Professor Flitwick and many others cheered boisterously when the broadcast announced that one of the teams had scored. Dumbledore sat to the side, clapping animatedly. You wondered why a renowned wizard such as himself wouldn’t be able to get tickets.
You realised the two of you were the only ones that weren’t adorning the Irish or Bulgarian team colours. Just as you were about to down your second glass, Severus held your wrist.
"Pace yourself," he scolded, sipping his own drink. You pouted and proceeded to drink slightly slower.
Well, at least you were stuck here with Severus, and if you were sitting too close to him, well… the others were too busy to notice.
“Give me one reason why we shouldn't have gone,” you said.
“I recall you saying Lucius would be attending?” Severus replied, sipping his own drink.
“For the finals,” you cleared your throat as you realised you were almost slurring— how improper for a Black, “we could have gone to the quarterfinals or even the semifinals.”
“Stop trying to spoil me, (f/n),” he said, “you don’t even follow quidditch.”
You grumbled and squeezed his thigh. You only wanted to do something nice for him, he just likes to make it difficult.
Severus smirked amusedly and looked over the crowd to make sure no one was looking your way before placing his hand over yours.
“Perhaps we should leave soon,” he set down his glass, “you’re clearly tipsy already.”
"I am not," you protested, but set down your drink anyway. He rolled his eyes. “You just want a reason to get out of here.”
The crowd around the radio cheered loudly and you shared equally bored looks with Severus.
"Would they notice?"
“Most likely not,” he pulled you to stand with him as another cheer erupted. You gripped onto his arm as you almost lost your footing and realised you were indeed quite tipsy.
He gave you that smug smile of his and tugged you along to slip away amongst the chaos.
.
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“Well, what do you suppose we do now?” You asked as you walked through the hallways, without any destination in mind.
It was nice, not travelling through the floo everywhere you go... not fearing of being seen. Well, you still shouldn't be seen with Severus, but the hallway was deserted as almost everyone was watching— err, listening to the World Cup.
"I have classes to plan..." Severus said quietly.
Really? You had expected him to ask you to accompany him to lunch... Oh well, perhaps he needed some time alone.
"Right. Dumbledore told me to check on the infirmary's inventory—"
"I'm not sure it's wise for you to handle chemicals in this state," he grabbed your hand before you could walk off.
"I'm tipsy, not drunk, Severus," you said, but didn't pull away your hand.
"Still," he muttered, suddenly shy, "perhaps we could wait it out over lunch?"
Honestly, he has asked you to lunch or dinner or breakfast a million times by now and still he has to plot around it and be shy...
How adorable. You pecked him on the lips and grinned.
"I thought you'd never ask."
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That night, you caught Severus oddly staring at his arm as you slipped into bed next to him.
"What's wrong?" You asked in worry.
"Nothing," he turned to cover his forearm and slid down under the covers.
"Severus," you propped yourself up to look at him with concern. He gave you a side glance.
"It... itches," he showed you his left forearm and ran his nails over it.
"Don't scratch it!" You gripped his wrist to pry his hand away and inspected the mark.
It didn't seem any different than it usually was.
"Would you like me to get you a salve?" You said with worry.
"No, I'm sure it's nothing to worry about," he retracted his arm and turned to spoon your side, "just rest, (f/n)."
That made you all the more concerned... but Severus looked like he didn't want to discuss it further. You sighed and settled yourself under the covers. "Goodnight, Sev," you pecked him on the nose.
He sighed and moved a hand to cup your face, holding you close.