Sighing heavily as he closed his classroom door at the end of the day, Snape slumped back against the wall, exhausted.
All of his classes had gotten on his nerves more than usual, and he was so agitated and tired that he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and never speak to anyone ever again.
He proceeded to scrub the dried up flobberworms off of the desks, scrape gunk from the bottoms of the cauldrons, and give a good sweeping to the area around the basin in the corner.
“Bloody dunderheads,” Snape muttered resentfully to himself as he picked up a glob of moondew that was stuck to some flobberworm mucus. “They seriously don’t know how to clean up after themselves.”
As Snape hastily washed his hands at the basin, he heard the door of his classroom open, expecting to see a student coming in to further bother the shit out of him, but instead he saw you.
“I was looking for you,” you explained as you softly closed the door behind you, walking over to your boyfriend. “It’s almost dinner time.”
Snape replied with a grunt, washing his hands more vigorously now and avoiding your eyes.
“Sev?” you gently asked, watching him scrub his hands raw.
“What?” Snape replied shortly, annoyance lacing his tone as he turned the tap off and finally looked at you. He was visibly tense; his shoulders were hunched and his jaw was clenched.
“Are you okay? You seem a little tense,” you worriedly said, watching Snape roll his neck side to side as he groaned.
“I’m not tense, Y/N. I’m absolutely peachy,” he retorted sarcastically, and despite his tone, you couldn’t help but smile, finding his sarcasm to be endearing.
“Let me help you relax,” you sweetly offered, extending your hand out to him. “You’ve had a hard day, I can tell.”
Snape hesitated before nodding reluctantly, taking your hand and allowing you to lead him out of his classroom and to his room a little way down the dungeon corridor.
“Wait here,” you told him as Snape sat down on the edge of the bed, a small frown on his face. “I’ll bring you dinner. Also, don’t frown so much. A smile looks better on you.”
To coax a smile out of him, you pressed your lips to his forehead, which earned you a timid smile from Snape. You then left his room, leaving Snape there.
Snape’s smile instantly fell the moment you left and he massaged his throbbing temples, his head aching as he remembered all of the assignments he had to grade before next week.
Snape would’ve loved to just lay back on the bed and relax, but he couldn’t; he’d been so stressed lately and could hardly handle his responsibilities anymore.
Most of all, he just wanted to be with you all day and bask in your endless affection and loving words. He didn’t want to deal with more students tomorrow, or staff, for that matter. All he wanted was to spend time with you and cry a bit.
As Snape thought about it, he realized he hadn’t cried in a while, in fact. The last time he did was months ago, and he figured a good cry would make him feel better.
Snape sat there until the corners of his eyes started to sting and his throat began to tighten, conjuring up all of his stress so it would push him over the edge. He’s never cried in front of you since he didn’t want to show you that vulnerable side of him, so crying was a private activity of his.
Snape sniffled loudly as tears began to roll down his cheeks, his hands tightly clutching onto his robes. Closing his eyes, he focused on the sound of his breathing, shutting out everything else around him.
Too concentrated on his shaky breathing to notice you had returned, Snape nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt your hand brush against his arm.
“Oh, my prince,” you cooed, setting a silver platter of delicious food down on the bedside table. “Go ahead, let it out.”
Snape quickly shook his head and wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve, mortified that you had seen him crying. “No,” he said hoarsely, trying to scoot away from you, but you had a gentle hold on his arm. “You can’t see me like this.”
“Why not?” you asked, genuinely interested in why Snape believed you couldn’t see him in such a vulnerable state.
“Because,” Snape breathed, feeling more tears gathering in his eyes as he stared at you. “I don’t want you to think that I’m weak.”
You stared at him, surprised that Snape would ever consider himself to be weak, when he was the bravest and strongest man you ever knew.
“I would never think that you’re weak,” you truthfully said, closing your hand around his and squeezing it reassuringly. “You’re so strong, darling. Despite everything you’ve been through, you’ve been so resilient. I know how difficult your life has been, but I am so proud of you for getting through it.”
Snape bit his lip hard, trying to fight back the sobs threatening to leave him, but he couldn’t, completely breaking down in front of you.
“Shhh,” you soothed him, gingerly holding Snape against your chest as he trembled. “You’re okay, baby. I’m here, I’m here.”
“No one-” Snape gasped, shielding his teary face from your view. “-has ever cared for me so much before. I- I appreciate you so much.”
You kissed his forehead and rocked him without thinking twice, stroking his thick hair and mumbling, “I’ll always care for you, Sev. You deserve to be cared for you and deserve so much love and reassurance. No matter what anyone says, you’re worthy of happiness and acceptance.”
Snape’s chest and throat were beginning to ache from how much he was crying, but they were nothing but tears of joy.
You continued to soothe him while Snape whimpered, “I love you more than you’ll ever know.”
“Than I’ll ever know?” you giggled, running a thumb across Snape’s cheeks to wipe away his tears.
“I have a lot a love for you,” Snape mumbled, finally looking up at you. His eyes were watering still, but less now. “So much that I can’t even put it into words sometimes.”
“You are such a sweetheart,” you admired, kissing the tip of his nose, which caused color to blossom onto his cheeks. “You’re my lovely, precious, sweetheart.”
Snape mumbled something that you couldn’t quite hear, but you swore you caught the words, “Nuh-uh, you are.”
Snape held onto you then, his arms around you, seemingly afraid of letting you go. He was trembling less now and was visibly relaxed, and you couldn’t have been happier that you helped him get all of his emotions out.
“You should eat before your food gets cold,” you noted, reaching behind you to grab his food.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” he quietly asked as he looked down at the platter, his mouth watering at the sight of all of his favorite foods.
“I already did,” you answered, smiling at him. “Go ahead and indulge, handsome. You deserve it.”
Snape simpered at being called handsome and eagerly nodded, beginning to eat his dinner.
You affectionately watched Snape, your heart swelling with so much love for him. No matter how hard Snape was on himself, and no matter how deeply that he believed that he was weak, you knew that you’d always reassure him and remind him that he was far from that.
To you, Snape was the most heroic man you could think of, and you were so grateful to be in love with him.
I REALLY need to know what Snape’s alternative is to tackling Dementors. Harry of course fights them with a Patronus inspired by a happy memory. What else would Snape suggest??
Just fuckin slug it right in its gaping maw then leg it
Snape would just take the pain and suffering cuz he thinks he deserves it.
Imagine how free and uninhibited Snape must have felt the first time he successfully flew unaided. Remember that line about a girl laughing at a scrawny boy trying to mount a bucking broomstick? I always imagine Snape ended up resenting flying, and maybe even quidditch players for being so good at it even though he supported his house team relentlessly into his teaching career, because he was no good at it and felt humiliated from finding that our in front of his peers. But flying unaided? A skill very few wizards have been known to posses, and which I assume takes great skill and discipline? He can do that. And he makes it look not only easy, but badass.
Imagine absentmindedly fiddling with Snape’s buttons.
When you’re both sat close together on the couch reading, with one of his arms wrapped around your waist. You holding your book in one hand while the other traces the buttons on his sleeve. Rolling them in between your fingers as you read or lost in thought.
Or when you’re laid across his chest as you both cuddle in bed or on couch after a long day, absentmindedly slowly dragging your hand over each button as you both talk about your day. If you’ve had a bad day, silently counting them helping you relax as Snape holds you and comforts you.
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