Agnes O'Hare (her royal HIGHness) (saintagnes) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2008-06-13 00:17:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! [1979-06] june, agnes o'hare, severus snape |
RP Log - Severus/Agnes
Who: Severus Snape & Agnes O'Hare
When: Thursday night/Friday morning
Where: Hogs Head, Hogsmeade
What: Duty, Drinking, Discussion of Death Eaters, Yelling at each other, & Kissing each other... I think this one has everything covered.
Rating: R
Status: Complete
The clock had never moved so slowly for Severus Snape. He sat in the chair at his desk, his entire body stiff with something between anger and dread. He had figured that the Dark Lord was an accomplished Legilimens when he'd learned about the magic, but he hadn't realised how accomplished, or how frequently he was likely to invade the mind of his followers. Yet, there was no other answer for it that Severus could tell. The only way the Dark Lord could know about Agnes, and about his meeting with Pettigrew, was through Legilimency. Well, it wasn't the only way - someone could have noticed the meeting and have told - but the likelihood of that occurring, particularly when Severus was typically on his guard watching whom was around when he was meeting with people, seemed somewhat smaller. Legilimency was obvious, and it infuriated Severus that he had allowed it to happen. Somehow all of his practise keeping his mind clear and calm had been utterly fruitless, which meant that he needed to actually have someone test him. He needed someone to practise with, to teach him, because this could not happen.
It was impossible that it should have happened.
He stared at the clock, within ten he would leave for Hogsmeade. He took a deep breath to calm himself trying to turn off his emotions. He'd been thinking about Agnes for most of two weeks. When they'd left the last time they'd seen each other, it had been on friendly, if awkward terms. She would suspect nothing when he showed up to see her. And if he played his cards correctly, she wouldn't know about Fenrir's questioning of Dumbledore until long after the fact. Beyond that, he could use the opportunity to keep her out of harms way. Fenrir might have orders to question Dumbledore, but he would have no qualms about harming someone who stumbled in during the interrogation. In reality, the opportunity to keep her out of the way was a blessing.
It was not the opportunity to keep her out of the way that bothered Severus nearly so much as trying to get information on the Order from her. His legilimency was spotty at best, so he wouldn't be able to use that. And although Agnes was very open, he was afraid if he asked too many questions, she'd get suspicious. Beyond that, until he could keep his mind closed, it was risky at best. The Dark Lord would be able to see or know anything that Severus knew, and that meant anything she told him, he would have to pass on, even if it meant potentially putting her or Lily in harms way. Severus stretched slightly, trying to undo the knots in his shoulders. If he could get information from Pettigrew, and none from Agnes, then Pettigrew would be the useful person he could give to the Dark Lord. He wouldn't need to betray Agnes' trust.
He looked at the clock again. There was nothing to be done for it. He had to act as if everything was completely normal. He had to distract her, and whatever it required, he had to keep her occupied, keep her away from Dumbledore. It could be a worse assignment, Severus, he told himself, standing from his chair and reaching for his traveling cloak. It could be far worse, it is merely an excuse to spend an evening with her, but at the same time you happen to be serving the Dark Lord. But therein lay the rub that Severus really disliked. There was an invasion of his privacy in the Dark Lord's command that rubbed him the wrong way.
The cloak around his shoulders, he took some floo powder from the mantel and threw it into the fire, saying clearly "the Hogs Head." The floo network went quickly past him and he was at the Hogs Head. He stepped out, glancing around the pub to see whom was around.
Agnes was just cleaning up the rest of the bar. She ended her shift about now, and Aberforth took over for the rest of the night. It was a typical night, a bit slow because of the curfew but people would always find a place to drink and do their dirty business, and though the floo made most of them suspicious, still they came and still they dealt and still she had a job. A new person came through the floo just as she was wiping up the bar, and she stared with a sort of surprised pleasure as she realised the tall, greasy haired figure was none other than Severus Snape. Maybe, she thought, he'd misspoken into the grating.
"Hello Severus." She sounded relatively chipper, despite how this month was quickly turning out. It was almost Marlene's birthday, after all, and she was planning some wicked festivities for the occasion. Her room upstairs contained criminal amounts of weed and Abe had set aside certain special cases of booze. It was going to be brilliant. "Can I getcha somethin'?" She secretly hoped he was there to see her, but it didn't do to be overly optimistic where Snape was concerned. Maybe he'd want a game of chess. Or some firewhiskey. Maybe he'd ... well. She should probably stop guessing and see what his answer was.
Agnes tone was chipper, and it almost took Severus aback. It had been two weeks since they'd really talked, but during those two weeks, he'd certainly thought about her. Still, seeing her actually in front of him, her eyes smiling at him made him want to turn around go straight back into the Floo. Of course, he didn't have any options. To refuse the Dark Lord a personal request wasn't something that he could do - it wasn't something that any Death Eater could do. At best their position in the hierarchy would be threatened, at worst their life and Severus wasn't keen on losing either. He stepped forward, his resolve to do what was requested strengthened by this thought.
"Hello Agnes," he greeted her, his voice more calm than his soul felt. He considered her question for a moment, and realised that as anxious as he was, a firewhiskey was precisely what he wanted. But not enough to get him drunk, just enough to relax him slightly without impairing his judgment so much that he wouldn't be able to actually follow through with his task. "A shot of firewhiskey maybe?" He suggested, trying to keep his voice calm. Normal. "And maybe, well," he shrugged feeling uneasy with the entire occasion. "Maybe just company?" It felt lame to him, but he hoped that Agnes would be excited enough that he actually wanted to spend time with her, that she would simply take the request at face value.
Agnes's face brightened somewhat and she nodded. "How 'bout two?" And she didn't wait for an answer before totting off to collect a couple glasses from the shelves and fill them with two shots of firewhiskey each. She also grabbed some strange citrus fruit she'd never seen before - and the legality of which she wasn't convinced. All on a plate, and she shuffled back to the bar, moved around to the outside, and took a seat beside him. "Can't quite leave yet, still on shift," she said, glancing at her bizarre little wizarding watch.
Sliding over one glass to him and one for herself, she sliced the citrus into quarters and gave him half. "So whatcha need firewhiskey for at this time of night?" She knocked back a shot and shoved a slice of the strangely tangy, bright blue fruit into her mouth. It was a kick in the mouth, that was for sure.
The look on Agnes face as she responded to him was a punch in his gut and he swallowed, watching her get the firewhiskey and the fruit. He firmly put the thought from his mind. This was no different than any other visit he'd made to her. No different. He gave her a slight smile as she handed him the firewhiskey, but the smile faltered slightly at her question. He reached for a piece of the blue fruit, his mind seeking something that made sense while he chewed on the fruit. It was an interesting flavour, and not like anything he'd had before. Finally he glanced up at her.
"It's just been a hugely long week," he said, truthfully. It was amazing to him sometimes that he could absolutely be truthful with her without telling her anything. "Work has been hard, and I'm struggling," he shrugged and took the firewhiskey, taking a sip of it and almost relishing the burning of the alcohol as he drank it. "The firewhiskey just sounds like a good idea," he said quickly. Hopefully she'd assume he didn't want to talk about details. "And it gets lonely at home sometimes," he added. Again truths, without telling her the truth at all. "Mum's been particularly quiet this week," he said. "I'm hoping this weekend I'll have an opportunity to work on the sitting room with some charms - brighten it a bit maybe. If I can manage it."
How much longer would her shift be? Hopefully they would not both still be here when Fenrir got here - he supposed if it ended up that they were, he was still to keep his cover. Or maybe he wasn't... The thought was not a pleasant one, and he looked over at her. "I suppose you're off soon though?"
"That sounds lovely. About your mum I mean," Agnes corrected, slurping down the second Firewhiskey and chewing on her bluefruit to ease the noxious flavour of the liquor. "I'm glad you're helpin' her out, Severus, that's a real, real nice thing you're doin'. So many people couldn't give a shit about their parents, you know? Makes me sick." She sighed and contemplated her glass. Those had gone exceptionally quickly. "Yeah about fifteen minutes. Half past and I can go back upstairs." She paused. "You know, if you want to hang out or something. I ain't busy after."
She grabbed the glasses and hopped off of the stool, moving back behind the bar where she threw some sickles into the till. "Want another? I think I'll do as well." There was something appealing in Severus's melancholy. Agnes didn't think the truth was ever vacant; he might have told her nothing of importance to him, but the emotions, the caring, the truth always meant something. Always. It meant he was a human being who cared about his mother, and got lonely, and worried, and struggled. It made her care all the more, and even if she didn't admit it, she could feel the change in him. Or what she perceived as change.
She was so easy to respond to. Sometimes he would be furious with her, but other times, he felt so accepted by her and there were so few times that Severus actually felt accepted. She meant what she said about his mother, and Severus responded to it because he felt the reality of it himself. His mother was one of the few people on the planet that he truly cared for, and he wanted her to be happy, even if he didn't always precipitate that happiness in the right way.
"I really want her to be happy," he said, and this time there was nothing hidden in the statement. "And I would like to stay around, if you don't mind," he added, although mostly to be polite. He knew she didn't mind, and that certainly made everything easier. But even if she had, he would have had to figure out a way to convince her to not mind, and Severus was actually thankful that it was so simple. "And maybe," he said. He should stop at two, really he should stop at two, but he felt desolate enough to almost not care that he should stop at two. "Yes, I'll take one more," he said more definitively.
"Course I don't mind!" Her reply flowed so easily off her tongue. It didn't matter that she'd probably yelled at him over the journals this week or that last time he'd fled because of her thighs. It was Severus, and she had faith that eventually he'd come around. It would just take time, some more thigh exposure, and possibly a chess game or two.
'One more' of course meant two shots, and she served them each one. She was small but reasonably tolerant - it didn't occur to her that so much liquor at once might knock her companion out, or do whatever it was liquor did to those not hardened by substance abuse. "Here you go," she said brightly, sliding over the other half of bluefruit and the whiskey. She probably shouldn't have been shotting in the last fifteen minutes of her shift, but she was minding the till and minding the customers, so hopefully Aberforth couldn't fuss too much. "Nice to see you again. Wasn't sure if I would."
Severus frowned slightly. "I said I was going to teach you to play chess didn't I?" He reminded her. "And I keep my word," he added, there was a touch of defensiveness to his tone. After all, the reason she was seeing him tonight specifically was not really of his own accord. Still, he couldn't help but feel that it was a slight to him. He would have come back and seen her eventually. He couldn't help but think about her, and that alone would have brought him back at some point. He took the liquor and took a drink of it, then reached for the bluefruit and took a bite of that.
"At any rate," he shrugged. "You're one of the few people who doesn't seem to think I'm evil incarnate," which had the effect of making him feel extremely guilty if he stopped to think about it. "Which means, you're one of the few people interested in talking to me."
Agnes tilted her head, avoiding saying and not just talking, though she was sorely, painfully tempted to. The surge of alcoholic warmth set her utterly at ease, and she gave him a smile as she finished up the double shot. "Well. Got about five more minutes. I should probably sweep up. Let me know if you want somethin' else, yeah?" Getting him sloshed sounded like a great deal of fun, but she knew it would be difficult without permission of sorts. Hopefully five minutes at the bar alone would make him eager for something to drink, and as she trotted back to clean up the glasses they'd just used and wipe up the counters, she gave him a wicked little smile over the counter.
"Nobody with hips like yours can be evil, Severus. It just ain't natural." Okay, so maybe she hadn't avoided it completely - but that was mostly innocuous.
Severus blinked and blushed, and glanced around to see if anyone was close enough to actually hear the comment. He might not be the evil incarnate, but he sometimes wondered if she was. At the same time though, he couldn't help but remember how she'd looked the last time they'd spent time together in her room. He took a quick drink of the whiskey, thinking that he needed something to do to kill the five minutes. And with her sweeping, he could only think about what he was supposed to be doing. She was so relaxed with him that hopefully it would be easy enough. He watched her sweeping up and wiping counters down, his eyes taking in the entire picture of her. He took another drink of the whiskey finishing off the third shot. He had to stop with this one, he thought to himself. If he didn't, he might make mistakes later, and that would not be a good thing. He glanced at the clock, feeling anxious about the time. He knew that the attack from Fenrir would not be until later, but it still made him uneasy.
For a moment, he let his mind wonder to what it might be like to simply forget all of his responsibilities and just leave. Agnes always seemed so free footed to him, like she could go anywhere and do anything (or anyone) and nothing mattered much. Severus was certain he couldn't be that person if he wanted to be that person. Severus was tied to his responsibilities. Even had he not been a Death Eater... even then, he wouldn't have been able to leave his apprenticeship or his mother. He ran his index finger around the rim of the whiskey glass, but looked up as Agnes approached him again.
"You finished?" He asked, trying to still be calm and not remember her comments about his hips.
"Nearly," though she was stalling, hoping to slosh him up a bit more. But he was being stubborn about it, and she finally sighed, throwing down her towel to the counter and unwrapping her apron. "There we are, then." Hanging the latter up on a coat rack, Agnes poked her head into the back. "Abe! I'm all done now!" The returning grunt told her it was safe to head upstairs, and she put the now-clean glasses away, throwing Sev's dirty one into a bucket of dishwater to soak. "Come on, then, Mr Snape," she said smoothly, wobbling slightly as she headed for the stairs. "Night Abe!" Her voice reflected a strong affection for the old man, and she bounced up the stairs without a moment's worry.
At her room, she pushed open the door, and it looked as it always did, though the window was open and a cool summer breeze came in from the outside. "I ain't doin' much tonight, but you can definitely hang out. Mind if I change into my pyjamas?"
Severus hadn't been expecting that question, but he supposed how bad could it be?, and he was keeping her up, wasn't he? "No," he shook his head. "I don't suppose I do. It's your room isn't it?" He asked her. He hesitated by the door, his hand still on the door handle. "I can wait outside though, while you change." He had to stay, he couldn't run away from the night if it got to be too ridiculous, but that didn't mean he needed to see her changing her clothes either. His mind flashed momentarily to what she might look like under her skirt and her flowy shirts, and he quickly vetoed that thought. He just couldn't go there, and he would properly offer to leave the room so that she could change privately.
Sev had ignored the affection she'd had when she called out to Dumbledore, and how likely it was she was going to be hurt when she found out the next morning what had happened to her employer. But he couldn't think about that now... And he half wanted to stay.
Agnes laughed and shook her head. "I don't care." And if he did then he could run away and hide or something. He came up with her, not the other way around. Without waiting for him to answer, Agnes stripped off her shirt and shirt and wandered off toward her bed to find her pyjamas. She didn't seem to be embarrassed in the slightest at being all breasts and thighs in front of someone who could almost certainly be described as carnivorous.
"Or not," Severus said dryly, but he couldn't help staring at her even as he stood absolutely transfixed by her skin and her. This was impossible, he thought to himself. I shouldn't be here. But he couldn't leave, and he didn't really want to leave. He finally stepped away from the door, as it was obvious that she didn't care if he was there or not and trying to ignore the rush of desire that had filled him up, he looked about the room - anywhere except at Agnes and her easy nakedness. The window seemed like a safe bet, and he stepped across to it, staring out of it, rather than at her. When she finally had clothes on again, he'd feel a bit more comfortable. But even not looking at her, he couldn't help but still see her in his mind. He had a feeling it was going to be a long evening.
When Agnes was finally done (though pyjamas for her was simply a large t-shirt), she padded to the window to see what it was he found so interesting. "What are you looking at?" And she leaned her chin through the open frame, perusing the grounds. It occurred to her sort of as a side thought that maybe he was just avoiding looking at her, but since she couldn't imagine why anyone wouldn't want to look at her (not that she was narcissistic, but she was female and she doubted his friends typically gave her a peak at tits very often - so it made sense), it seemed a possibility. "Anyway. I still ain't sure how to play chess. I ain't sure if you want to do that. Or we could talk since you's sayin you feel lonely - yeah?"
Severus felt her approach him and tried not to think about all of the visions he'd just seen of her. Why was she being so nice to him? It would make this all so much easier if she would just be a bitch to him. He'd feel less badly that he was lying to her the entire time. "I-" he stepped back, uncertain what would be the best thing to do. The Dark Lord wanted information and information implied talking, if he was teaching her how to play chess, that might keep her occupied, but it also might mean that they wouldn't discuss anything that would be useful information. They could always play chess later.
"I don't suppose I was really looking at anything," he said, stepping back from the window and going over to sit on the bed. It was somewhat dangerous, but there wasn't really any place else to sit and he wasn't going to stand the entire time. "I just wanted to give you a bit of privacy," he said, and he couldn't help his cheeks feeling hot as he was reminded of just how much of her he'd seen. "I suppose, talking wouldn't..." he hesitated. "Talking would be all right, if you feel like it."
"Sure." Agnes's response was blithe, and she grabbed her pipe and some weed before perching atop the windowsill. She had a good view of the front courtyard from here, and it always amused her to watch people go in and out of the pub. "What's on your mind, Sev?" And it was the first time she allowed herself to call him something familiar - because it felt right. Tonight felt okay. Severus was actually here of his own accord and he wanted to talk - how brilliant was that? She stuffed a bit of weed from a baggie on the sill into the end of her pipe and curled her fingers around it, puffing as hot flame curled around the edges of the stem.
Agnes' use of the shortened familiar version of his name made something in his stomach clinch up. Under these circumstances it only seemed to remind him of why he was here and he hated himself for being here for this reason. He could tell himself that he didn't care, but it was an untruth, or at least, it wasn't the entire truth. Mostly, he didn't know. He glanced over at her sitting on the window, he could see so much of her leg, and he needed to get her away from the window. Which probably meant she'd be on the bed, dressed so scantily... But he had to do it. Somehow this evening he had to keep her safe - that's what he was doing really - and he had to get enough information to be useful, but he didn't want so much information that it would put her in danger. Severus had not been in Slytherin for nothing, but he really wished that he had a bottle of butterbeer to give his hands something to do.
"I..." he hesitated, but it was a perfectly placed hesitation. "I'm just so tired of this all," he said with a wave of his hand. "The papers are just... one thing after another," he frowned and looked up at her. "And I'm sick of all the death," he allowed the frustration he felt with Mr Black's death to creep into his voice. There was no need for her to know who he was talking about and in reality he didn't like the death of people in the stadium either, or the Bones' children. But how to get her over away from the window? "And I don't know how you do it," he continued. "You just seem able to trust people, and I... particularly right now, it just feels... Aren't you afraid of me?" He raised an eyebrow at her, a certain amount of honesty might be all right. "I know what your friends think of me. Don't you worry that they're right?"
Curls of dull grey smoke spilled from Agnes's nose and lips as her lungs released their hold and her mouth opened to speak - though she hesitated at the question. How could Severus lament the recent events and then go and ask her whether she thought her friends were right or not? It was like a contradiction in phraseology or something. If Agnes had realised she was quickly becoming the victim of typical Slytherin manipulation,she probably would have walked over and beaten the absolute hell out of Severus - before throwing him out and telling all his friends he'd seen her naked ... but Agnes wasn't equipped to recognise the subtleties of feigned emotion and aptly timed pauses. She just was, and her greatest folly was taking everyone else at face value - as she thought they should have been, not as they were.
"I ain't afraid of you, Severus. I figure if you was a death eater, you wouldn't be sitting in a room with a half-naked mudblood." She wasn't quite a mudblood, but good as in the eyes of death eaters. "And you wouldn't care so much about your poor mum. And... I don't know. I think you can be a prat and I think Sirius and them all know you can be a prat, and honestly they's still mad cuz of how you was in school." She didn't mention the Lily Incident - she was pretty sure his memory was just fine. "I thought you mighta been a death eater cause of some of the shit you said to me, but I guess I was wrong." Agnes let a shrug roll off of her shoulders. That was that.
Severus realised he shouldn't hold onto her statements with any actuality. She was saying them because of who she thought he was, not who he actually was, and yet, he couldn't help but hold onto them anyway. He shifted on the bed, kicked both of his boots off and pulled his feet up under him on the bed, staring at his toes as if he were considering it. In some ways it only went to show that who they thought the Death Eaters were, wasn't very accurate. In reality they were human beings and they did care about people, and often more than one person, and not just family either.
"I didn't mean," he glanced up and took her in, sitting on the windowsill with her hair around her shoulders smoking whatever it was she was smoking, her legs all visible under the edge of her t-shirt, and the admiring glance, wasn't actually an act. He put aside everything that he was hating about this evening and focused instead on Agnes. What would he do if he wasn't a Death Eater? If he wasn't here on orders? If he was anyone other than who he was? His cheeks flushed slightly as his eyes traced the edge of her thigh almost to her buttocks. He really shouldn't...
"I think I was just upset," he said. "I don't always see things the same way you lot do. It doesn't mean I'm a death eater." There, he'd said the words. "It just means I don't agree automatically with everything you say. And I don't think that means we can't be... at least... I hope we can be friends."
If Agnes was to be honest with herself - which she usually was, unfailingly so - she rather liked the attention. Severus wasn't as forward as Sirius, but he obviously appreciated the feminine form and was actually, semi-openly, appreciating it at the moment. She slid a leg out toward the windowframe, small toes curling against the wooden panel, and she watched him, as thoughtfully as being high would allow her - watched for his reactions. It was so impossible for her to crack him, to understand what made him tick. She wondered if he'd just run away again.
"I know that. It ain't me I care about you agreein' with, Severus. It's them friends you have. We know for sure some of them is death eaters, and when you agree with death eaters you ain't much better than them." His boots were off. What the hell was going on? Was he actually being open, comfortable - or some Snapelike version of those two adjectives - in her presence? Agnes was sorely tempted to take the initiative, but for once in her life, she didn't just pounce on the situation at hand. She watched, waited, wondered.
He really needed to get her away from the window and he wasn't certain how to do that, but he needed to do it soon. He shook his head at her comments, but thought that this was something that could be useful without being particularly dangerous to anyone in the Order. "Who?" He said with an annoyed look. "Who's a Death Eater? Or do you just decide like Sirius Black that you don't like the look of someone and so they're a Death Eater? I think I'd know," he added, slightly defensively.
He didn't like the idea of bringing her, half dressed, over to the bed, but he had to get her away from the window. Even if he'd known how to do that, the idea of sitting in such close proximity to her with her dressed so loosely was enough to make him feel nervous. What would it be like to be Sirius Black and just fuck someone if you wanted it? And beyond that, they'd want it? It was among the hundreds of reasons he disliked Black, that the man seemed to just take it for granted. She'd said he had sexy hips, but was it just a statement? Or was it that she was willing...? He could suggest something, but he wasn't certain he wanted to follow through with it - the thought terrified him, frankly - and wouldn't she think it was odd of him? And he wouldn't be able to do it without flushing red, which would probably start her laughing at him again.
Agnes didn't seem to take kindly to that statement and slammed her pipe down upon the windowsill beside her - a bit more roughly than perhaps she'd intended. "Don't you start that stupid shit at me, you bloody hypocrite," she growled out, finger pointing accusingly at him. Whatever attraction he had or that she might have shared was dashed to pieces at the insinuation that she, of all people, just judged someone on their looks. "You look at someone like me, some of my friends, and you fucking judge them all the time, and so do all of your stupid, purist, pigheaded friends. You want to talk about judge? How about judgin' someone is worthy of killin and murderin because of the blood in their veins? How about judgin someone because of the way they fuckin talk or write. How about that, hm!?" Alcohol was apparently not helping the usual calm her high induced.
"Don't you ever accuse me of that shit, Severus. Don't you accuse me of that and then try and tell me we could be friends, because that is the biggest load of bollocks I've ever heard in my life and I don't know what you're playing with, but it ain't on." She was furious now. "You think you know what your friends do all the time? If that's true then maybe you IS a death eater, because if you's quite certain what fucking Georgina Wilkes gets up to, then maybe I don't fucking trust you, and maybe Sirius IS right."
Shit, Severus stared at her. He'd forgotten just how terrifying she could be when she was upset. And while part of him wanted to just royally piss her off, so the Dark Lord could see that she hated him rather than liked him, that would never actually do. He had to try to make this work. And more than that, he actually wanted to make it work for reasons that were entirely selfish and had nothing to do with the Dark Lord's orders.
"Fine, Maybe you're right. Maybe I don't know what every other person does every moment of every day," he was obviously tense and upset. "Do you think I follow Georgina Wilkes around all the fucking time? I see her at social events, and I talk to her in the journals, we're not best friends, we're acquaintances and former house mates. Do you know what all of your former house mates do in their free time? Even if you do, you're a Gryffindor. You're not a Slytherin and you don't understand how we work. Half of us aren't so much friends as occasionally uneasy allies. So when I say I'd know, I'm not talking about all of my former house, I'm talking about the few people I truly consider friends. And I'd know, Unless I'm just completely stupid, I swear I'd know. Some of my friends are easy to figure out, Lils isn't a Death Eater, obviously. And you aren't, obviously, and there are a few others I'm close enough to... But, you do judge. And maybe we do too," he shifted his weight uncomfortably. "I won't deny that I've judged you wrongly, and I'm sorry for that. It's not that I think you're stupid, I just... I know what people look at you and think and I know you don't care about what people think, but... you're not stupid Agnes." He looked over at her, wondering if anything he was saying was making sense and really wishing he'd stopped with one shot of firewhiskey rather than having three.
"I know you don't care," he continued, hoping to pull her attention away from the Death Eaters, which obviously had been a bad idea to try to pursue. "But I do. I hate the idea that people will sell you short because you don't bother to form a sentence right. Not because you can't but because you won't. And if that means I judge you, then fine, I do and I'm sorry. But... I just... you're better than that, Agnes!" This was shaping up to be a disaster. The only reasonable thing that had happened in the past few minutes was that she was now paying attention to him rather than what was outside. He should not have drank anything, but the fact that he had was rendering him far more passionate and less reserved than he normally was.
Agnes had the good grace to look startled at his last comment, though she'd been gearing up to yell some more at him for his obvious blindness regarding Georgina. How could he go from 'I think I'd know' to 'I'm not with her every second of the day' in less than five seconds? He was absolutely incorrigible and sometimes she, frankly, wanted to pop him one right in the nose. With a sceptical expression twisting her normally soft and bright features, Agnes grabbed her pipe up again and thrust it between her teeth with a grunt, or some similar noise. Light. Inhale. Exhale. Sigh.
"I ain't out to impress the kinds of people who'd judge me on the way I talk, the way I write, or the way I dress. What do I want with them people? What do I care if some elitist prig thinks I'm dumb?" And she meant it. Impressing Regulus fucking idiot lung Black or Barty shiny stick up his bum Crouch were the least of her concerns. She couldn't be assed to fix her spelling, her language, or her ideas for anyone. She defined who she was, not some archaic system of expectations. "I judge what I sees before me, and it ain't the way somebody looks or how they talk or what their fucking blood smells like. I judge thems on how they treats other people, and I judge them based on what friend o' mine seen them do. And Georgina was seen. She was seen with that hefty bloke from that fucking library." She accented this last syllable, as if Rodolphus Lestrange's atrocity of prejudiced book collecting could be called a library.
"Mister Lestrange?" Severus raised an eyebrow. Think clearly, Severus, he commanded himself, taking a moment to attempt to clear his mind out. He could not fuck this up; he could not fuck it up. "I think we have different definitions of friends, Agnes," he said trying to keep the emotion out of his voice. "I've been to Lestrange's library too, does that make me a Death Eater? Never mind, since there possibly seems to be some doubt in your head on that, but think about it, honestly, Agnes. Gideon Prewett works in Lestrange's library, does that make him a Death Eater? Mister Lestrange has one of the finest selections of magical texts in Britain outside of Hogwarts, of course people are going to go to his library. Possibly even be seen with him outside of his library."
He took a deep breath and stared at her for a moment. "I actually would believe that you, of all your friends, do judge people on how they treat people and not on how they look. But you should be, maybe, a bit less hasty to judge people based on what your friends say they do." He allowed a bitter look to cross his face. "Sirius fucking Black would say I'm a Death Eater, wouldn't he? But he's-" Severus stopped short. The grudge was ancient history, and the event behind it was ancient history, and he might call Black a murderer (or as good as) but he'd also been sworn to secrecy about the event at the Whomping Willow so many years before, and Severus Snape didn't usually break his promises. "He's no shiny knight either," he finished feeling as if the statement had less punch than if he'd finished it with the more truthful 'he's as good as a murderer'.
"Sirius can be a prat, yeah, but that don't make the fact that he saw Georgina Wilkes in a house what got cracked for bein' a death eater stronghold any different." Agnes had gone too far, but she'd barely noticed, too damned determined to make her point. "It ain't the same thing to just be seen with him, it's where you is seen, what you is doing. It's context and shit." Another drag on her pipe put her very more slightly at ease. "I ain't saying that you is a death eater or that you look like one or even that I'm suspicious, all I's sayin' is that who you is choosin' to rub shoulders with. I'm just sayin that these people you talk to, they's OUT about how much they hate mixed bloods."
Cocking her shoulder a bit, Agnes turned away from the window, t-shirt hanging down at odd angles. "Don't you ever think, sometimes, they look at you that way?"
Severus blinked, that actually was useful information, possibly. He hoped. Merlin, he hoped. He quickly recovered though, taking a deep breath and appearing to think over what she'd just told him. He was torn between defending himself to her, because even if he hadn't been a Death Eater there would have been people he would have continued to talk to because politically it just made sense, or answering her final question. The final one, probably made more sense in the context of getting her to relax with him again, and possibly avoid another lengthy yelling match.
"Sometimes," he said finally and there was at least some truth in the statement. "Sometimes, yes." He reached a finger down and picked at the toe of his sock, noticing that there was a hole beginning in the heel of the sock on his right foot. "Look," he said, "I... I don't love any of this. And I didn't know Georgina was seen... I didn't think women..." he shrugged. "But... I guess, I feel like I have to say that I'm not you. And just because I'm not out there protesting in front of an ice cream parlour, or breaking into private property to switch out signs," he looked at her dryly, "and you cannot tell me that you or Black or Potter or one of you didn't have something to do with that, it has your fingerprints all over it - means that I'm condoning the murder of children or anyone, really. I'm just trying to take care of my Mum. To get out of the place we're in, and you can't blame me for wanting something better for her or for myself, can you? And I grew up in Slytherin. I'm used to being looked down on. And they don't all..."
"You don't gotta suck up to prejudiced cunts to make something better of yourself!" And Agnes threw the pipe down to the floor with such vehemence that it cracked soundly into several forlorn pieces. "For fuck's sake, using evil people to bring yourself up in the world ain't fucking right! It ain't right!!" She was confused and furious and unsure what to say or how to say it and he was frustrating her by playing the victim or maybe it was logic, she couldn't really figure it out. Regardless, she was getting tired of the situation, and she turned back toward the window, sighing deeply and splaying her legs out on the window sill. She ran a finger along the cool glass.
"I ain't blaming you for nothin. I just think you could choose better friends. Friends who wouldn't turn on you like that." And she snapped her fingers and leaned her head against the glass, wondering how the hell she'd ended up half naked in her room with Severus Snape... arguing.
Sev stared at the pieces of the pipe for a moment, until he realised she'd once again moved back to looking out the damn window. He was going to have to do something and quickly, because he was running out of time or there was the possibility that she'd look out at the wrong time. "Are you going to turn on me?" He asked, and it was a genuine question even though he knew he wouldn't receive an honest answer because she didn't know the entire story. It didn't feel like Agnes to turn on a friend, but he couldn't help but feel that if she knew the truth she would absolutely turn on him in a heart beat. And did that make her different from them? And that was the thing that Severus could never quite reconcile in his brain. He didn't like the methods the Death Eaters used, but he had so often and easily seen the hypocrisy among Black and Potter - it was just a different kind of hypocrisy, and one they'd never admit to.
"If..." She was still sitting on the window sill and her legs were so very visible, and he was looking at her again. He stood up from the bed and walked across the room towards the door, his back to her, trying to think. Seducing her seemed something that might have worked earlier in the evening. But Severus didn't feel like he could seduce someone, probably to save his life. Which, frankly, the situation wasn't quite that dire, but it might be close. He shook his head as if he were shaking his original thought away and turned around walking over so he was standing in front of her looking down at her. "Maybe talking was a bad idea," he said finally. "I'm sorry, Agnes. I'm exhausted," truth, "and I've got so much on my mind," also truth, "maybe we should just give the chess game another try."
Agnes turned back away from the window and toward Severus, who had broached the gap between them rather quickly. She was tired of him being so insufferable, but she was also just tired in general, and her eyes betrayed that weariness clearly - even in this poor light. "No." And that was that. She felt something about him, and though she didn't know if it was wrong or right, that something said that he was okay. That he wasn't a bad person. Whether she could reconcile that with his attitudes and behaviors and friends, she'd never know, but for right now she could cut him the tiniest bit of slack. Maybe.
"Yeah. Chess or somethin. It seemed kinda boring to tell the truth. But I'll give it a go." She hopped down from the ledge of the window and slid smoothly across the floor (bare feet patting gently against wood that had taken her ages to clean). Her bed seemed somewhat appealing, given the long night, and she curled up atop it, belly down and legs curled upward - very bare, but innocently so.
Thankful to have finally gotten her away from the window, Severus turned around and followed her back over to the bed, sitting down in front of her and considering. "It isn't... boring..." Severus frowned slightly. "I mean, it doesn't have to be..." but it might be to Agnes, he realised as he looked over at her. As much as he loved the strategy and the thought that went into the movements on the board, he wasn't certain but what she wouldn't hate those as equally as he loved them. Agnes just wasn't a strategist, and maybe a game like chess wouldn't appeal to her. "We don't have to," he said finally. One leg pulled up on the bed, the other dangled off the side so that his foot just drug the floor. She looked tired like he felt.
"I wish we could just be different people for a night," he said suddenly. And the comment was spontaneous enough he hadn't really expected it himself. "I mean..." he flushed suddenly, not used to thinking something and then saying it. "You look tired," he said, and it was an understatement. "And I know I'm exhausted. And it's everything..." He waved his hand. "It's all of this between us. This... the violence and the death..." he dropped his eyes to meet hers. "But as my Mum would say, if wishes were unicorns, you know? It's silly."
And that was when Agnes made a bad decision. Or perhaps not a 'bad one' but a 'spontaneous' one that would probably scare the hell out of Severus for the rest of his life. She stared at him as he flushed, as he insinuated - well she thought insinuated something. She wasn't quite sure what but she had an inkling, sort of, and they were very close, and she was high and liquored up and both content and melancholy, and she decided to do something she wouldn't ordinarily do. Well it was something she'd ordinarily do but not with Severus, certainly.
She put both hands out, up (as she was laying down and it would have been more awkward but it was surprisingly natural), and grasped hold of his shirt with each small palm. Not waiting for him to jerk backward or protest or do something Snapelike that would probably irritate the hell out of her, Agnes dragged herself upward and planted a long, hard, entirely improper kiss right on Severus Snape's face. That is to say his mouth. Or somewhere in that general vicinity.
Severus froze. All of the conversation, the yelling at each other, the scolding he felt he'd received from Agnes, he hadn't once thought that she'd... She was so close to him he could have reached out and wrapped his arms around her and pull her into him, and as she kissed him, he could feel something stirring within him. He wanted to pull her into him. Hadn't he been wanting to do that for the past two weeks? Ever since he'd accidentally ended up on top of her? But it wasn't proper. But he was supposed to keep her occupied. But...
It was amazing how quickly the thoughts dashed through his head, too many too quickly to be made sense of. And when he pulled back, it wasn't so much back, as just away from being kissed and he looked at her. "Agnes," he said, but his voice was more throaty than he had intended it to be. "Not..." She wasn't wearing a bra, and he could see the outline of her breasts and he realised he was in way over his head. What was he doing here? He swallowed hard.
"What." She dropped his shirt and let herself sink back onto the bed, eyes sedately blinking before she peered up at him firmly. "What? What is the problem? You don't like me? I'm okay with that. Just say something - do something. I ain't going to laugh or hit you or whatever it is you're afraid of!" Oh, the Gryffindor was strong with this one.
He stared at her. Salazar she thought he didn't like her? How could she possibly think...?
"No," he managed to say. Merlin, where were the words when he actually needed them? Hadn't he just finished wishing he was somebody else? "It's anything but..." He raised his hand to his hair and pushed his fingers through it, his eyes never leaving her face or her shoulders. "Merlin's beard Agnes, it's anything but that I don't like you." His cheeks flushed. "I don't want to..." he closed his eyes, what did he want? He knew exactly what he desired, so why was it so difficult to take it when it was offered, and she had certainly just offered it. "I told you," he said finally. "I told you I wanted... I want... I don't want..." he was starting a hundred sentences, not finishing any of them. He wanted it to mean something, he didn't want it to just be a fuck, like his first time had been. He didn't know what he was doing. He could think it, but he seemed unable to express any of them in words, but she was so damn intoxicating and so apparently willing. But now she was in an awkward position for him to do anything...
"I've only done this once." He admitted finally, his cheeks flushing at the admission, even though he'd as good as made it to her in the journals. And he was nervous about that. Severus had no delusions in regards to his ability to please a woman. He'd never had one who apparently wanted him, and the only time he had actually shagged one... well, it had been his first time, hadn't it? And whatever Pepper might have said in the journals... he didn't have a clue what he was doing.
Agnes was... startled. That was really the best way to put it - or if it wasn't, it was the best way she could put it. "You." But she didn't finish the sentence, unsure how to phrase 'you like me? ME? WHAT?!' without sounding accusatory. It wasn't that she was bothered by it, and Agnes could never be accused of being insecure, but Severus had always been so ... Severusy... she could believe he thought she was attractive, but she'd never have believed he'd admit it in a million years. No, make that TWO million. "Well thank you, I'm flattered." It was such a conversational sort of thing to say.
And then, of course, Agnes was Agnes, and as she didn't believe in beating around the bush, she looked Severus dead in the eye and, with a spritely tone, said: "if you are nervous about fucking I can show you, you know, how. But I sort of need a sign or something. I can't just fuck on my own. Or kiss myself. I mean, I could, but where's the fun in that?"
Severus wondered if he was going to sink into the bed, under it, through the floor, and possibly down to where Fenrir's goupies could very well be beating up Dumbledore right now. The thought was vaguely sobering, but Severus was so embarrassed and flustered, that he simply couldn't spent much time on it. How could she be so calm? Possibly because she'd done it so many times. He took a deep breath again, his cheeks were flushed and it made his skin look even more pale where it was coloured by the blood that had rushed to the surface with the primary purpose of causing him further embarrassment.
"Oh Salazar," he exclaimed under his breath and he stood up, stepping away from the bed and away from her. "I can't..." He was suddenly wishing that he'd had a lot more fire whiskey because at least then he would have been able to blame all of this on the alcohol. As it was, he didn't think he could. Not really. No, he had actually just told her that he liked her. And while true, that had not been the plan. None of this was the plan. None of it. From the reason he was here, to the conversation he and Agnes were currently in the middle of not having. "I'm supposed to be teaching you chess," he managed. "You're not supposed to be teaching me how to..." he couldn't even bring himself to say it, because to say it was to recognise that he'd been thinking about it on and off all week long and that, honestly, was why he was here tonight. It was entirely his own doing, whatever the orders might have been.
Agnes sighed inwardly at his embarrassment. Embarrassment was okay in small doses, but come on... he was here, she was here, it was OBVIOUS that he was interested (she thought) but he was just too ashamed of his own sexuality to admit it. How to rectify the matter...
"C'mere." She was sitting up now, knees all splayed and exposed and all sorts of horrible things that defied proper sensibilities. She wriggled a finger. "C'mon. It's not so bad."
He considered for a moment simply leaving. Running downstairs forgetting his orders, and just leaving. And had this happened any other night he would have been gone a long time before, but it was tonight. Was this all that bad? Why was this bothering him? He hadn't been half so embarrassed with the random woman he'd been with it at Avery and Mulciber's behest. Why was he embarrassed in front of Agnes? Agnes whom, to be fair, he'd actually had conversations with, whom had - mostly - never laughed at him and didn't seem likely to do so so now. Why did he care so much? And what sort of a coward was he that he couldn't just... try it. Educationally. He had to learn what he was doing at some point, and he wasn't going to learn anything by himself.
"You won't tell anyone," he asked, afraid more for her at that moment than him. And it was a bit absurd, considering that the person most likely to cause her harm would know about it as soon as Severus gave his report, but Sev honestly wasn't certain what the whole lot of Gryffindors would do if they knew. And he really didn't want to find out. The uncomfortable fact, however, was that he had been thinking about her for two weeks. Something about her kept him paying attention, and it made it all the more uncomfortable that he couldn't figure out why. Severus had a distinct need for things to make sense in his mind: Reason, logic, and proper sequences. Agnes defied all of those. He stepped forward, his eyes taking in her entire figure - exposed and otherwise - as she sat on the bed, and the stirring in his veins answered the question for him. He stepped forward so that he was within distance of her touching him: He was staying.
Aha! At that simple request, Agnes felt she'd gained miles of ground. Severus was so dreadfully insecure (and it was something Agnes found appealing about him, if only for the novelty - and because, like many women, she desired to 'fix' people, though she claimed otherwise over and over again), and this tentative comment made it clear he was thinking about it, if only she didn't wave around that he was canoodling with a mudblood.
Agnes stretched out a hand for his, though she didn't take it by force. Every step had to be gentle and voluntary - though she wondered vaguely if it wouldn't just be easier to leap on him and snog the hell out of him. That might give him a heart attack, however. "I promise." Her tone was steady and mild - nothing accusatory or offended there. She could deal with his pride... for now, anyway. One day, she told herself, she would move him beyond his ridiculous sensibilities.
Severus glanced down at her hand before reaching out to take it. Her skin was warm, and he had so few opportunities to touch other human beings. He swallowed. The thing was that he wanted to do this right. His first sexual encounter had been... trivial. He'd hated the lack of intimacy of the entire thing. And once Severus set his mind to something, he usually followed through and did it. But he had no clue what to do next. He stood awkwardly for a moment and finally moved to the side and not dropping her hand, he sat down on the bed sort of to the side of her and sort of in front of her.
He felt like he should say something, but he had no idea what. Finally he just raised his eyes to look at hers. "All right," he said finally, his voice was low and just a little raspy.
Wow. Was he actually - was he actually allowing her to touch him? Was he actually conceding? Agnes couldn't help but wonder for a moment if he wasn't just drunk or imperiused or something... but at the same time she ignored those silly impulses. Agnes's greatest weakness was truly believing that people could be changed, and so she didn't want to think his acquiescence was feigned or forced or the product of deeper, twisted motives. She'd rather believe she had an impact on him - the ability to change him - something special that made him question himself. It was naive and arrogant, but Agnes had been placed in Gryffindor for those very reasons (among others).
Her smile, though, was genuine and warm, and she wrapped her fingers over his cool, sallow skin. He just needed coaxing.
Agnes moved forward subtly, her movements silken and practised, and she slid her hand up along his wrist, both hands now running along the skin. "What are you afraid of?" She asked lowly. She could make it easier, she knew she could. Naive arrogance. It would be her downfall one day.
Her touch set his skin on fire, her fingertips were smooth, and she knew what she was doing, and there was something extremely sexy in that knowledge, even if it did serve to make him slightly more insecure himself. For the moment, at least, all else was forgotten. He was no longer trying to get information from her, no longer here simply because the Dark Lord had ordered him to be. He was here because he wanted to be here. He was slightly drunk, it was true. And he had stayed mainly because the Dark Lord had ordered him to keep her occupied, but the act itself? Severus wanted it. Something in her made him keep coming back to her and he couldn't explain it to himself, even though he'd tried a dozen times over the past two weeks.
What was he afraid of? Looking like a fool? She already knew that he had only done it once. That he would become somehow attached to her? It couldn't be any worse than thinking of her every hour of every day like he had most of the previous two weeks. That someone would find out? That was more dangerous, but mostly more dangerous for her. And the Dark Lord knew where she was now because of him. Severus had to at least try to keep her safe, with the knowledge of her whereabouts being given over because of him, he now had responsibility to do everything he could to keep her alive.
Truthfully, Severus was more afraid of things he hadn't even defined. Connections to her, and the strange way she seemed determined to believe in him against every reason to the contrary. The changes she'd wrought on him might not be what Agnes was expecting them to be and if you had laid them out in front of her they might not be enough for her, but they were happening. Severus wasn't used to being considered worth while. He wasn't used to being believed in. And Agnes did both, and the power of that was more intoxicating to him than all the firewhiskey shots she could give him.
"I'm not afraid," he said, although his voice betrayed the nervousness he felt about the entire thing. "Gryffindors aren't the only brave ones, you know." He moved his hands further along her arms, running his thumb along the inner curve of her elbow, almost in awe at being allowed to touch a woman in this way.
This seemed to please Agnes immensely, and she grinned widely, stretching a hand up to Severus's shoulder and running it over his neck. Poor bastard was nervous as fuck - maybe she should offer him some weed... though she imagined he'd get huffy over that and she'd already decided to take it one step at a time.
Agnes wasn't one for internally reflecting a great deal when it came to sexual advances, and so didn't think much - simply ran her hands along the pale expanse of neck, thumbs rolling over his narrow jaw. If he wasn't going to be forward about it, well, she would, and hoisted herself upwards (she didn't care about awkward - all sex was, in its way), pressing her lips to the jawline, near his ear.
"I know."