Rosie looked out of the kitchen noise to try and determine where the scratching noise was coming from. It didn’t really sound like it was coming from upstairs, so therefore it must be coming from downstairs. It was also indistinguishable as to whether it was outside or inside.

Rosie wasn’t worried by the noise – it wasn’t unusual to hear an unusual sound, or in the case of her cooking, smell an unusual smell. However Rosie was curious as to what it was, she listened intently – there it was again, scratching, like claws.

Maybe it’s the cats, thought Rosie and she moved into the lounge. No, the cats were nowhere to be seen. She turned around to leave when a movement at the window caused her heart to leap. There was an owl at the window,

“Oh, for God’s sake!” she exclaimed, holding a hand to her heart, movements at the corner of her eye always scared the living daylights out of her. “It’s only an owl!”

She marched to the window and opened it, letting the bird fly. It perched of the sofa opposite the fireplace, where Severus always preferred to sit. Rosie’s heart lurched at the thought of him – there had been no word from him since the last day of the holidays.

She sat down by the owl and tugged the letter out from its claws. It hooted in a calming sort of way and Rosie realised who it was – it was Asriel. Severus’ owl. Rosie’s heart rate increased and she could feel the blood pounding in her fingertips.

She ripped the envelope apart and found a piece of parchment folded over in half. She took it out from the remains of the envelope and sat there looking at it. Whatever Severus felt would be on the page, she was sure of it, she had never been more sure of anything in her life. She also knew that she had never been more nervous opening a letter.

Rosie unfolded the parchment a gazed at it. To her small surprise there was only a single sentence scrawled on the parchment in the centre of the page, however the words that were written sent a shiver down her spine:

I miss you.

A broad grin spread across Rosie’s face. She gazed, transfixed at his small, untidy writing and felt happy. He missed her. That was all she needed. Looking around she found a pen. She picked it up and turned over the parchment on which Severus had written to her. The pen was poised above the page but suddenly, after that warm glow of Severus’ cramped handwriting appearing on a piece of parchment in front her, she felt that she didn’t want to write to him after all.

Was she being stupid? She thought that possibly she was being trivial, but Severus had hurt her. He probably hadn’t meant to – not really – but he had nevertheless. He had decided not to say anything the day that she had confessed her feelings. Severus had been the one to ignore her and decide to be cold and uncaring. What did it matter to her that he had now decided to tell her that he missed her? And what did that mean anyway? He missed her. So what? Did that mean that he loved her? That he wanted to be with her? Rosie frowned and put down the parchment and the pen. She got up slowly and looked around the room. This was her home. She didn’t want to lose it. Could they honestly live together with that kind of confession floating in the air? Did it even bother her?

*

Later that day Rosie walked down a street that had once been so familiar to her when she had lived in her previous bedsit rented to her by the landlord from Hell. She walked towards a Post Office where a woman named Mrs Smith worked. She had always been a friendly, advisory person to Rosie and although they were never in contact outside of the Post Office, Rosie for some inexplicable reason felt that she could talk to Mrs Smith.

Opening the door, she stepped in from the cold and looked around. There was a man at the counter talking to Mrs Smith and paying her some money for an Owl. Rosie grinned at the Post Lady who looked back at her with a shock of recognition and waved cheerily. After the man had walked past her and given her a fleeting smile (which she returned), Rosie made her way up to the counter.

“Hello, dear,” said Mrs Smith warmly, “how can I help?”

Rosie sighed, “Okay, this is really random and you’re probably not in the mood – I mean, this is your business after all.”

Mrs Smith frowned, “Yes?”

“I have something to talk to you about – don’t ask why I’ve come here – you always seem to give good advice,” Mrs Smith looked confused so she hurried on, “My new housemate-”

“Oh no!” cried Mrs Smith with a smile as she covered her eyes with her hands. “Don’t tell me! He’s evil! Makes you pay extortionate rent prices!”

Rosie laughed, “No actually,” she said mock seriously. “I’m in love with him.”

“What?” asked Mrs Smith.

“I’m in love with him – oh, and yes, he is that teacher from Hogwarts,” she added, remembering their previous conversation just before she had moved in with Severus.

“Oh dear,” she replied. “Look,” she glanced out of the shop window. “It’s not very busy. Come into the back of the shop and have a cup of tea with me.”

“Thanks,” said Rosie appreciatively.

They moved through a little door into a room at the back of the shop. It was full of old boxes and piles of letters waiting to be sent. There were a few chairs in the middle of the room and Rosie and Mrs Smith sat down. Mrs Smith conjured a teapot from a cupboard and made them both cups of tea. They drank in silence for a few moments before the shop owner said,

“So, tell me, what’s all this about you fancying Mr Housemate?”

“Well, when I met him I just felt like – I don’t really know – I get the impression that he’s not very sociable. I’ve never met any friends of his, for instance. But we just hit it off, you know? Immediately we were chatting like there was no problem, like we were meant to live together. And then, over time, I grew to love him. There was the initial attraction, but then – there was the one night when he really opened up to me. He told me some things that I don’t think he’d told anyone. I felt privileged and I realised that I liked being the person that he turned to for advice and comfort. Not only was he gorgeous, but trusting and – God, I’m in love!” she finished dramatically.

Mrs Smith smiled warmly, “It sounds like it, dear. So, what’s the matter? Why did you need to come here?”

“Well,” said Rosie feeling slightly bashful suddenly. “As you said, he’s that teacher. Professor Snape. He’s just gone back to school and on the day he was due to return I decided to confess my feelings. He was getting on the train and I went aboard. It was really awkward because, you see, we’d had an argument – I was supposed to go somewhere with him but I totally forgot and made plans with someone else – anyway, it was all really trivial but it hurt him, and so he didn’t really want to speak to me at all. I ended up kissing him rather than telling him that I loved him and he just went completely rigid. He didn’t say anything, so then I got off the train and he just stayed on board and watched me out of the window. He didn’t look miserable at all, just stoic, you know? I felt like such an idiot. I’d just moved in with this man and I’d buggered it up.”

“So now you don’t know what to do? Whether to see if you can patch things up?”

“Well, no,” said Rosie with a smile. “You see, he mouthed something at me as the train departed, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying or lip read. I just assumed that he was being a bit of a rude bugger and I forgot about when I got home. But then,” Rosie emphasised, “I got this letter the other day.” She smiled. “I think that he wrote to me what he wanted to say that day.”

“What did he say?” prompted Mrs Smith.

“I miss you,” said Rosie. “That was it.”

“Aw,” sighed Mrs Smith. “That’s adorable. I wouldn’t have expected it of him – from what I’ve heard.”

“Oh? What have you heard?” asked Rosie, grinning.

“I have some friends who’s grandchildren go to Hogwarts now. They don’t like him much. They tell me that he’s a biased old git! Something about him always taking off points from anyone but the Slytherin’s.”

“Yeah,” said Rosie laughing, “that sounds like him!”

“Oh, I see,” said Mrs Smith. “Are you sure that he’s the One?”

“Well,” replied Rosie thoughtfully, “I’m not sure I believe in all that The One stuff anyway – but I do love him, a lot. But,” continued Rosie. “That’s not the point. What do I do? Do I reply? I mean, I was going to but then I thought about it and I became angry with him. It’s so easy for him to say that, you know? He didn’t even have the gall to come and tell me personally.”

“Maybe that’s just because he feels ashamed of how he behaved? Perhaps he feels guilty and can’t bring himself to face the fact that you might not be in love with him any more.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Well, from what you’ve told me about him it seems that he’s just a tad insecure! I think that maybe he feels that you’ve already moved on from him and that’s why it took so long for him to reply.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I do.”

“Then I’m being a bit bitchy!” smiled Rosie. “I think that I should just being stubborn and tell him that I love him.”

“No!” cried Mrs Smith. “Don’t just say that you love him! What was it he wrote to you again? That one sentence.”

“Oh, I miss you,” replied Rosie.

“Well then, write something similar back! Oh, I don’t know, how about …”

“Come home then?” finished Rosie.

Mrs Smith laughed and grinned. “That’s it! Write that to him! No, seriously!” she added at Rosie’s sceptical look. “He has you’re sense of humour?” Rosie nodded. “Then why not? It’s a parody, it’s fun and it true. Go on!” she said standing up and ushering Rosie out of the shop; they had both heard the bell from inside the shop and they both knew that someone was waiting to be served. They entered the front of the Post Office and Rosie bade farewell to Mrs Smith before walking past the old lady customer and opening the door. Mrs Smith called to her as she made to exit,

“Write to me and let me know what happens!”

“Will do!” replied Rosie before Apparating back to her house and phrasing her letter to Severus.

*

It was the last week of school and Severus was becoming concerned, his owl had not returned. He had sent the letter three days ago and it only had to travel to London. He sat in his office, staring grimly at the fire when a knock at the door disturbed his silence.

“Enter,” he called.

“Severus,” it was Minerva McGonagall, dressed in her tartan dressing gown and holding a letter in her right hand. “Your owl turned up this morning, seems that the cold got to it I’m afraid. Hagrid’s got him, he’ll be all right.”

“You left my owl with Hagrid and you think that he will be all right?” Severus enquired with a raised eyebrow.

Minerva smiled slightly. “Here,” she said, handing him the letter. “It’s only just thawed out!”

She turned on her heel and left his office. Severus glanced down at the note. There was no name on it. Frowning Severus took it gingerly and opened it. He looked down and felt a pang; his own words were staring back at him, the one’s he had written to Rosie three days ago. He sighed; Rosie clearly did not want to know. That at least settled the question of whether he would be going home for the season of festivities.

He felt incredibly stupid, like a lovesick fool. He wished that he could retract the letter, but he knew that there was no point in wishing, what was done was done. At least he could savour the bittersweet pleasure of being right; Rosie had indeed moved on. If only he had spoken his mind and his heart when they had last met then maybe this would not be the case.

But then, reasoned Severus, if she has moved on so quickly, her feelings were indeed not real. At least, not continuous. Maybe in some way he had cheated his heart, but then he had least saved himself a far greater pain. Love is a most curious thing.

Severus yawned, stretching his arms. He had been marking all evening, he was tired and bored. He moved the potions essays to one side and made his way to his quarters. There he got changed into his night-clothes and climbed into bed, but he did not go to bed. He sat there for an hour or more reading Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte. What other reminders did he need that the path of true love never did run smooth?

*

Severus woke the next morning and despite his reasoning and rational behaviour last night he felt depressed and rejected, like he had been shut out on a cold night. He swung himself out of bed and got showered and changed and ready for another school day. He walked into the Great Hall thirty minutes before the great rush of students. The only people there were a few freaky children who had decided to brave the cold of the corridors in search of food and Minerva McGonagall – oh what a surprise!

“Morning Severus – fancy seeing you at this hour!” she said looking over her glasses at him.

He sat down beside her and pulled a plate of toast before him, he began to butter his toast and layer it with jam as he replied dryly,

“Yes, indeed. What a coincidence.”

“As much as you mistrust me I do not spend my time stalking you Severus – I have much better things to do with my time.”

“Yes, like stalking Albus.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Severus shrugged; he loved teasing her – almost as much as everyone else took pleasure in teasing him. It was teasing for Severus, which was a mark of friendship, it wasn’t goading or threatening or bullying – it was fun.

“So,” she continued, “what did the letter say?”

“What business is it of yours?” he said, biting off a chunk of toast.

“Was it from Rosie?”

“Don’t you ever learn to give up?”

“Did she tell you that she forgives you?” she asked ignoring his comment, Severus was always difficult on such matters.

“Don’t you ever get tired of being wrong?” he spat.

“Why would I be wrong? I assumed that she had written to you to say-”

“Well you assumed incorrectly. If you must know, she sent the letter back to me – unchanged,” he finished heavily.

“She sent you your letter back? But I thought-”

“I had hoped the same. But apparently not. She doesn’t love me, I doubt she ever did.”

“Nonsense. She’s probably angry with you still. Yes that’s it!” though she seemed to be trying to convince herself.

“Why can’t you just admit that you are wrong?” he said standing up.

“Why can’t you?” she asked tartly.

“I have.” He left the hall quickly and returned to the solitude of the dungeons. Minerva meanwhile, was walking back to her office to write a letter to Rosie, she didn’t understand her attitude. She wasn’t Severus; she wasn’t one to hold grudges. She could imagine Severus sending someone back the same letter that they had written but that was a bit vindictive and bitter to be Rosie.

Minerva entered her study and pulled some parchment towards her. She rearranged her spectacles and thought for a moment before putting pen to paper.

Dear Rosie,

You may be slightly surprised to receive a letter from me but I am writing on Severus’ behalf about the pair of you. I have received word of the letter that you sent back to Severus. Frankly, I am more than a little surprised at you. I always thought of you as an intelligent, grounded woman, not one to hold grudges or retaliate with vindictive gestures.

I realise that Severus, as usual, was his foolish, irrational self and I can assure you that he feels as upset about the events of that train journey as you do. I really do believe that he cares for you deeply, I won’t say love as that is for him to confess, but I don’t think that his not responding to your advances was due to any lack of enthusiasm on his behalf. He really does care for you and whilst I can understand the annoyance I don’t condone that method of showing it. Perhaps in future it would be best to tell him how things stand rather than sending him back a letter that he sent to you confessing his deepest feelings unchanged. You of all people must know how insecure he is.

Yours truly,
Minerva McGonagall

Minerva had to wait a few days until the letter from Rosie arrived, in fact it was two days before they broke up for Christmas. Minerva received a note and she realised who it would be from. She hadn’t told Severus that she had written to Rosie as he would see it as interfering, which it was.

She took the letter back to her office and sat down behind her desk. She waited as few minutes, trying to guess what Rosie would have to say on the subject.

She unfolded the letter and read,

Dear Minerva,

Thank you for the letter and I hope that all is well at the ‘hell hole’ as Severus so eloquently put it. And on the subject of Severus, I was most surprised when it was you who wrote to me the other day and not the man himself. It took me a good while to work out what must have happened as the letter, at first, did not seem to have any correspondence to the letter that I sent to Severus.

Then I realised. I did indeed send a reply to the note that Severus sent me but it was after a long discussion with a friend of mine. You are quite correct, I was annoyed slightly at first with him but you are also correct in your assumption that I am not one to hold grudges for long. I do indeed know how insecure he is, so much so that I have no hesitation in admitting that I love him, very much. The reply that I sent to Severus in regards to the letter that he sent me was on the back of the original parchment. The only explanation that I have is that Severus simply was expecting to be turned down and failed to turn over the paper. It seems a fairly logical explanation to me.

If you could pass on the message I would be most grateful and thank you for telling me what had happened, I would hate him to think that there was a rift between us and I am glad to have been able to clear the problem up.

I must stop writing now, I have been reading Jane Austen recently and feel as though I am slowly slipping into the realms of Regency.

Have a Merry Christmas (and tell Severus to come home!)

Rosie Watermouth

Minerva pursed her lips. Typical. He didn’t even check the back of the letter – led me on a wild goose chase. I look like a fool.

“Severus,” she muttered angrily. Minerva rushed down to the dungeons as quick as she could. She had to tell Severus and although he probably wouldn’t be pleased at her contact with Rosie without him knowing he would definitely be mollified when he read the back of the damned page!

She knocked on the door and entered without waiting.

“You may come in,” he drawled at her from his desk.

“I won’t trouble you Severus for a great amount of time-”

“Ah, I see that you’ve realised how precious my time is.”

Minerva ignored him and ploughed on, “In regards to the letter, I wrote to Rosie – don’t start,” she added seeing his face. “Her advice to you, concerning the letter was to look on the other side.”

Severus looked gobsmacked; he stared at her wide-eyed.

“You haven’t checked have you? Thought not. I’ll see myself out shall I?” she left the room smiling.

When the office door closed behind Minerva, Severus leapt to his feet. How could he have been so stupid? But there was relief as well, she had written to him! She had made a reply!

He rummaged through his desk drawers until he found the letter. He laid it out on the desk and smoothed it flat. He could see his words on the pages, shining out at him. He turned the note over with slightly shaking hands and found a sentence back from Rosie:

Come home then.

Severus smiled. She wanted him to come home, he knew that she was being light-hearted but who cared? She didn’t hate him! Severus grabbed some floo powder, jumped into his fire and went straight to Minerva’s room. He thanked her for her interfering – which must have been a sign of happiness – and informed her that he would be going home for Christmas.

Later that night Severus was quickly packing his bags to go home. Luckily there wasn’t really much to take, only clothes and underwear and toiletries. For the first time in a long life of misery he was looking forward to going home.

The next day of teaching was like a slow form of torture. The day snailed by and Severus was finding it increasingly difficult to be nasty to the students. So instead he made them do incredibly dull work from a textbook so he could let his mind wander.

He would be seeing her today, this evening. He wondered what it would be like, he wasn’t one of those people who ran down train platforms in slow motion with sad music playing in the background. Maybe he should get her flowers?

Oh my God, thought Severus with a grimace. What is happening to me? I’m becoming everything I’ve ever hated!

In the end Severus decided that just simply turning up would suffice, after all Rosie didn’t know he was coming home.

(End chap)


A/N: Author syndrome, I hate that chapter. If you agree or disagree, please let me know! Thank you to the people who have reviewed *blushes*, it makes my day to know that you guys are (hopefully) enjoying the story. All chapters in one go? Wow! Well, here's another one!! If you read, please review!