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[Prof Umbridge] Chapter 47
🕑 Added 2024-12-06 18:07:15 +0000 UTCMarina Nikolaevna really didn’t like sleeping naked. Not because she thought it was improper, but simply because it wasn’t very pleasant. Especially when, early in the morning, a hefty cat would prance across her bare back, and if she moved, it would dig in with all its claws to stay balanced! And in the winter, it was downright uncomfortable…
She also didn’t like sharing a bed with someone else. As a child and young adult, she had been forced to share a couch with her cousin, but at least they each had their own blanket. However, her ex-husband’s insistence on always sleeping while cuddling was something she could never get used to—it was too hot, uncomfortable, and impossible to move without feeling like she was wrapped in someone else’s limbs…
She lasted exactly one year of marriage before running back to her aunt’s house. By then, her cousin had left to study, and having a couch to herself felt like the embodiment of comfort. Her husband tried to patch things up for a while, but it was futile. Marina Nikolaevna realized she wasn’t suited for a life of captivity, decided that the children at work were enough for her, and let the matter rest. After all, fleeting romances (and later even holiday flings) were still on the table.
Dolores, on the other hand, never shared a bed with anyone—at least not for sleeping. Fully aware of her lack of physical appeal but possessing a perfectly healthy libido, she wasn’t above visiting Muggle clubs and enchanting a handsome man for the night. Naturally, by morning, they wouldn’t remember a thing.
‘Where am I?!’ Marina Nikolaevna thought groggily. Judging by the sensation, she wasn’t wearing anything, someone was breathing evenly beside her, and her cheek was pressed against the crook of someone’s arm. Carefully opening one eye, she confirmed that the arm—firm and sinewy—definitely belonged to a man. And the Dark Mark right in front of her nose made it quite clear who that man was.
She shifted cautiously, but there was no reaction. Twisting her neck, she managed to take in a familiar long nose and disheveled black hair. She also recognized the room.
“Severus…” she rasped.
“What?” he replied, as if he hadn’t been sleeping at all. His eyes, however, remained closed.
“What the hell am I doing in your bed?”
“Good question,” Snape replied thoughtfully, shifting to make himself more comfortable. “Do you remember anything?”
“You suggested we have a drink,” she said, piecing things together. “And we drank. We talked for a bit… mostly about your inner monster. And then… then… nothing.”
“Well, let me remind you,” he said. “Yes, we talked. I even shared a bit of my past with you—though it’s fortunate you don’t remember any of it. At some point, you asked me, quite abruptly, how long it had been since I’d had sex.”
“And…?” Marina Nikolaevna shut her eyes.
“While I was trying to calculate, you managed to get me halfway undressed.”
“I… undressed you?!”
“Well, you unfastened my robes and got to my shirt,” Snape clarified. “When I snapped out of it and asked what you were doing, you said something like, ‘I’m unattractive, you’re damned unattractive, so why waste time?’ and climbed into my lap.”
“Oh, God…” Marina Nikolaevna covered her head with a pillow. “What did you give me to drink?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary, if that’s what you’re implying. If you’re suspicious, ask Ingebjorg about whatever was in her flask.” He paused. “Anyway… I finally remembered that, yes, it had been a while since I’d been with a woman. Life’s too busy, or I’m too exhausted… But I’m not a boy anymore, and you’re no Thumbelina. The chair couldn’t handle it—it wasn’t built for that kind of activity. It broke. And I thought, at that moment, that the bed would be more comfortable.”
“And…?”
“It was indeed more comfortable,” Snape said flatly. “By the way, move over—you’ve crushed my arm.”
“Take your arm back…” Marina Nikolaevna propped herself up. “I don’t remember anything! You didn’t erase my memory, did you?”
“No. Why would I? Do you want to review my Pensieve?”
“No…” she managed to say. Judging by how she felt, the night had been… very intense. But surely Ingebjorg wouldn’t have… for what purpose? “Severus, couldn’t you have stopped me?”
“Of course I could have. I just didn’t.”
‘And now what? Should I tell him that taking advantage of an intoxicated woman—even if she threw herself at him—is still assault?’ Marina Nikolaevna thought bitterly. ‘Yes, I wasn’t a student he lured in and plied with drinks to exploit later. This was a textbook case of ‘it’s my own fault.’ A grown woman, no one forced me to go to him and get drunk—especially after such a stressful day. But…’
“And what if your Lily had gotten drunk at the graduation party and thrown herself at you under the stairs?” she asked hoarsely from under the pillow. “What would you have done?”
Snape didn’t reply, but his silence was louder than words. He would never have taken advantage of Lily—not even if he wanted to more than anything. But here…
“So, the monster is gone, but the puppy stays?” Marina Nikolaevna quipped bitterly. “Are you going to feed it now?”
He remained silent.
‘Some ally,’ she thought with despair. ‘Why ruin everything? How am I supposed to… even talk to him now? Should I ask Ingebjorg to erase both our memories?’
“Dolores, are you crying?” Snape suddenly asked, alarmed, and she flinched, suddenly recalling…
…The office was dimly lit, as usual, and the deep armchair seemed to beckon her to curl up in it, tuck herself into a corner, and wait for the accumulated fear to subside. While she’d been doing something, talking to someone, it had felt manageable, almost distant. But now, it all came crashing down.
“Here,” Snape said, handing her a glass. “It won’t hurt. You’re shaking.”
“So are you,” Marina Nikolaevna replied, nearly spilling the drink. Her teeth were chattering—not from the cold, but from the nerves—and they tapped out a rhythm against the thin glass. “I... I only just realized how terrifying it all was...”
“Dolores, are you crying?”
Yes. Like a little girl, terrified out of her mind, holding it together as best she could—but in the end, breaking under the weight of it all.
“It’s over,” Snape said quietly. “At least, this round is. Dolores, you’re a strong woman. I don’t think I could’ve stood up to Dumbledore like that.”
“And you...” She struggled to catch her breath. “I don’t think I’d have been able to share memories with him like that. Especially those kinds of memories. It’s just...”
“Ingebjorg was right. The emerald potion turns your soul inside out. I’ve never had to drink that filth, but I’ve seen enough...” He looked away.
“I saw it,” she said softly, reaching out to touch his arm.
For a fleeting moment, the connection—the touch of another living, breathing, warm human being, someone just as scared as she was—felt like a lifeline. Something to hold onto, to anchor her, to keep her from drowning in the storm of her own fear.
Then came a brief silence, followed by his quiet question:
“Dolores, are you sure about this?”
“What, do you need me to write you a statement?”
“Yes,” he replied dryly. “Though I’m not sure it would hold up legally, at least it’d give me some kind of excuse if you decide tomorrow to claim I forced myself on you”
And the sound of a hearty slap—though this time it landed on the shoulder, as Snape had learned from bitter experience…
Marina Nikolaevna wiped her nose on the sheet and asked hoarsely,
“Why on earth did you make up all that nonsense?”
“I didn’t realize you genuinely couldn’t remember,” Snape replied after a pause. “I thought I was joking. And, well… it turned out as usual. Remember now?”
“Yes. Did I really write that note?”
“You did. But I’ve hidden it somewhere safe. Your wand too, just in case,” Snape said smugly. “For safety reasons—you can get quite dangerous when angry.”
“You’re despicable, Severus, and your jokes are idiotic,” Marina Nikolaevna muttered darkly, sitting up and instinctively pulling the sheet around herself. Not that there was much point; what hadn’t he seen at this point?
“Pot, meet kettle! I won’t forgive you for the Long-Nose comment.”
“Fine, sorry… I must’ve been in some kind of emotional shock. What time is it, anyway?” she asked suddenly. “It’s impossible to tell whether it’s day or night in your crypt…”
“An hour and a half until second breakfast,” Snape replied.
“Second… why second?”
“Because nearly everyone slept through the first, given last night’s events. The Great Hall needed to be cleaned up—it was turned into a temporary interrogation room by the Aurors. Students were given a light breakfast in their common rooms, so no one starved,” he explained. “And morning classes were canceled for obvious reasons.”
“How do you even know all this?” Marina Nikolaevna asked immediately. “Did you summon a house-elf? A school house-elf?”
“Dolores, unlike you, I didn’t go into an emotional meltdown,” Snape replied seriously. “Or I recovered from it quickly—I’m used to this sort of thing. It only took a minute to go to my office and contact Minerva through the Floo Network. The internal network still works… She’s the official Deputy Headmistress, so she issued the necessary instructions.”
Marina Nikolaevna exhaled in relief and flopped back onto the pillow.
“And the Headmaster? Is he alive?”
“Oh, what could possibly have happened to him?” Snape grimaced. “No summons yet, though. I assume the Dark Lord understands I can’t simply vanish from this well-guarded castle unnoticed. But he’ll turn up soon, no doubt, to tally up the losses…”
“At least send an owl.”
“I already did. Not to him, of course, but to Lucius. I’ve had their owl in the aviary for days,” he smirked. “Life above ground does have its perks—no need to go anywhere; just open a window.”
“When did you have time to do all that…” Marina Nikolaevna murmured.
“Around half past five, when you woke up, mumbled something like ‘No, no, just five more minutes,’ and passed out again. Since I was already awake, I decided to send the message—dense fog makes the owl hard to spot. Then, once dawn broke, it was reasonable to start waking up colleagues and… how do you say it? Reconnoitering,” Snape said matter-of-factly. “By the way, have you ever seen Minerva in a nightcap? Adorable sight! Anyway, I confirmed everything was in order and decided to get a bit more sleep…”
“Severus…” she groaned, holding her head.
“Oh, right, you’ve got a message from the Minister,” he said suddenly. Turning, he rummaged on the nightstand. “Letty took it from the owl and left it here. I added ‘reading others’ mail’ to my list of sins.”
“Never mind; it might’ve been urgent,” Marina Nikolaevna sighed, taking the envelope.
“Dear Dolores!” began the Minister, his writing blotched with anxiety.
“I was shocked to receive your message. Even more shocking was when, barely five minutes later, Williamson burst into my office with a squad of Aurors, demanding we immediately declare martial law and grant him unlimited authority. What could I possibly do to counter such determination?!
My assistant fully supported Williamson, claiming that, quote, ‘Minister Fudge will spend another week chewing on this, while action needs to be taken immediately!’
Admittedly, they assured me this was not, in any way, an attempt at a coup. Rather, that the safety of the wizarding world must be handled, quoting Williamson again, ‘not by the old geezers in the Wizengamot, but by people capable of assessing the real danger and understanding the current situation.’
Williamson accompanied me to the Muggle Prime Minister, which, honestly, was for the best: the latter is highly distrustful but was sufficiently terrified by the Aurors’ scare tactics. He was convinced of the need for stricter security measures on the Muggle side too. I have no idea how he’ll justify it—terrorist threats? Natural disasters?
Meanwhile, I am tasked with calming down the old g—” here the word was heavily scratched out, “members of the Wizengamot, Hogwarts’ governors, and so on.
Dolores, I’m entrusting Hogwarts to your capable hands since the Headmaster is incapacitated, and his competence has been severely questioned. This decision was unanimously approved, so congratulations, and best of luck surviving!
Sincerely yours, Cornelius Fudge, still Minister (for now).”
Marina Nikolaevna pulled out the accompanying decree appointing her as Headmistress, took a deep breath, and exclaimed:
“And this doesn’t count as urgent news to you?!”
“Well, no one died,” Snape shrugged. “Although if they had, it still could’ve waited.”
Marina Nikolaevna was too stunned to reply. She folded the decree and letter, tucking them back into the envelope. With no furniture on her side of the bed, she placed it near the headboard instead.
Becoming Headmistress was one thing, but how to part with Snape amicably now? Say something flippant like, “A night in bed doesn’t mean a relationship”? The wizarding world, from what she’d learned, was quite patriarchal. Casual relationships, if they existed, were hush-hush. And Snape’s views on the matter? A complete mystery!
“Dolores,” he said thoughtfully, “I’m going to suggest something now. Just don’t hit me again—you’ve developed a nasty habit of that…”
“I won’t,” she assured him.
“Let’s stay friends.”
Marina Nikolaevna closed her eyes and exhaled in immense relief.
“I’m serious,” Snape misinterpreted her reaction. “I’ve already told you I can’t grasp the nuances of relationships. Nor do I want to. And this…” He paused. “Okay, I see you’re going to hit me after all!”
“No, Severus. I was going to say the same thing,” she admitted, “but I was trying to find a way to put it… delicately.”
“Men tend to react poorly to such statements.”
“Do they? I thought it was the opposite…”
“Well, if a woman’s already dreamed up a wedding and kids, she’d be deeply offended,” Marina Nikolaevna explained. “Just like a man who believes a passionate night means the woman is now his.”
“God forbid,” Snape said sincerely. “Who needs that kind of burden?”
Marina Nikolaevna stared at him.
“But I wouldn’t mind a repeat,” he added with a perfectly straight face. “Even on a regular basis.”
“You’ve got some nerve!” she exclaimed, flustered. Then she remembered her aunt’s saying: “They were good friends, they even had kids.” At least in the wizarding world, there were no issues with contraception or unwanted consequences.
“Isn’t that what you were going to say?” Snape asked brazenly. “I understand that being associated with someone like me could tarnish the reputation of Hogwarts’ Headmistress, so, as usual: a vow of silence and strict confidentiality. I’ve gotten quite skilled at the latter.”
"And nothing personal?" Marina Nikolaevna couldn't resist asking.
"Aside from partnership. Everything else is just a pleasant bonus," Snape replied, suddenly serious. "It's your decision."
"Deal," she said after a pause. "And since there's still time before breakfast, I suggest we... hmm... solidify this friendly alliance. After all, I don't remember a thing! What if there's nothing worth remembering? Maybe I just passed out from stress after a couple of minutes?"
"Now that's just hurtful," Snape said seriously and decisively pulled the sheet away from her—only to freeze in place suddenly. "I forgot to mention another piece of news."
"What is it?"
"Ingebjorg said your Letty made a joke, and we didn't catch it."
"Just spit it out! What did she do?"
"I'm telling you—she made a joke. You told her to fetch the arm from the armor set, right?"
"That's correct..."
"But you didn't specify which one, only mentioned the size."
"Severus! If your approach to delivering news is as clumsy as your approach to intimacy, then no wonder I fell asleep!"
"That's not true. You didn't fall asleep right away; you spent quite a while keeping me awake," he muttered. "Anyway, the point is—now Dumbledore has two left hands..."
