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Eros' Brew

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Summary: Willow hates Valentine's Day. All she wants to do is forget about love. Instead, emotions and memories collide when she runs into a murderer on the run by the name of Severus Snape. Post season 7, post HBP.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > Willow-Centered > Pairing: Severus SnapeTwistedSlinkyFR151015,20166520,75311 Apr 0631 Mar 09Yes

Lackluster Lovey Dovey-ness

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I claim no rights to copyrighted material.

Oh, boy. Boy being the odd word out here.

Willow felt tingly in various places. And achy, though she’d be the first to admit that achy was not in any way bad or, considering the evenings events, out of place. It had been a long time since ‘that’ had happened, and she’d never experienced anything like it directly after a magically-aided fight.

It was new. Buffy would have to know.

She released a shaky breath when she felt the cool hand lying across her bare, flat stomach. The long fingers tickling her skin curled slightly, as if they had sensed her muscles tensing. Willow stared up at the ceiling; it was a beige tile, nice, and she wondered how on earth she’d not noticed it earlier. Probably because I was a tad bit distracted. . . Her head lolled to her right. Black hair spilled over the pillows, mixing in with hers. There was a face buried there, unmoving, the sound of long, even breaths rolling out over the white cloth.

Willow rolled onto her side, letting the hand under the blankets fall to the mattress. She slipped her own over the man’s back, caressing his sharp shoulder blades before sweeping down his spine. She watched him shiver in his sleep, his mouth opening to mutter a name.

“Soft skin,” she whispered against him, a glowing grin on her face. It quickly faded.

Soft skin. Willow blinked at the thought before closing her eyes, meditating on the moment. What was her body feeling? Contentment, definitely, but something else as well. Comfort? Check mark. Content and comfortable. But not aroused.

Willow shot up, taking the sheet over her chest with her. She wormed out of the bed and stared down at the man again, taking in his form beneath the covers, imagining what she’d seen only a few hours ago. Remembering very enjoyable memories.

Still nothing.

“Oh, darn.” She muffled the words with a hand over her mouth. While she didn’t feel the remotest sense of disgust when she let her imagination roam, she felt nothing akin to the lust she’d been tackling since. . .

“The potion,” she hissed with sudden realization, “it’s worn off.”

Willow rounded the bed, finding her clothes on the other side. She slipped into her skirt and blouse, leaving the sheet on the floor. One task down, she began to pace the length of the room.

“Ok, ok. . .let’s think this through,” she muttered. Ok, so you finally fold and make with the making and then BAM gone goes the lust bunnies and the hetero butterflies. Great, that’s just great. Her eyes were heavy and her pace slowed considerably. “Can’t think, still tired,” the witch added. With sudden inspiration, she headed for the door.

Free coffee first, dealing with consequences of a night of wild romping, second. It’s a plan.

She turned the handle and cracked the door open, suddenly pausing when she heard a faint sound from outside. It was distant, but distinct. If anyone else had heard it, they probably would have assumed someone had just had a fight with a balloon, but Willow had heard it too much over the past few days to dismiss it.

It was definitely a pop.

She peeked out the door, cautiously, her brow furrowed when she realized the direction that the noise had come from. The elevator doors were at the end of the hall. She heard them open and watched a young woman with spiky, turquoise hair stumble out, her toe caught on the slightly uneven lip below the sliding door. The woman muttered under her breath before straightening and looking forward.

Willow closed the door quietly, before the woman looked down the hall.

She looks so familiar.

Willow turned, her mouth opened, but only a slight gasp left her lips. Severus was standing behind her, the sheet she had abandoned wrapped around his waist and a finger over his lips to quiet her reaction.

“They’ve found us?” he whispered.

Willow nodded. “I think—a young woman with wild hair.” She frowned. “And I swear she works at a department store in Cleveland.”

Snape’s brow lowered at the description. “An auror. Tonks, no doubt,” he muttered. “She was in the store after I oblivated you. Did she see you just now?”

Willow shook her head. “But they obviously know we’re here—she apparated to this floor.”

“Unless she simply found your name on the register—your friend did reserve a room in the hotel under your name, correct?”

“But on this floor?” Willow persisted. “A coincidence? We can’t chance that.”

Snape gave her a curt nod. “A moment, please,” he requested.

Willow watched him gather his clothes and disappear into the bathroom. A minute later he reappeared, dressed, his hair pushed back out of his face, his wand in hand. The slight wrinkles on his face seemed deeper than they had been a few moments earlier.

“Are you ready?”

Before she could answer, he grabbed hold of her wrist, but the pulling sensation she expected never came. Willow looked up the see the wizard’s head cocked slightly, his eyes narrowed in study.

Willow released an uneasy sigh. “It’s gone, isn’t it? I noticed when I woke up.”

Snape blinked, his dark eyes somewhat clouded when they found hers again. “It seems the effects have diminished somewhat.” He paused in thought. “There’s no reason for you to continue with me.”

Her voice softened. “You could still use my help, though.”

“Traveling with you has been entertaining, Ms. Rosenberg,” Snape began, his voice lowered. Something resembling a smile crossed his face before disappearing again. “I cannot say it was regrettable in my case, but it is time we ended this, don’t you think?”

Willow swallowed hard. “If. . .Is that what you want?”

He was silent a moment longer. “It is.”

“But you’re not off the hook yet,” Willow noted. “It’s not really fair, what they think of you.”

Severus straightened, releasing her hand, as if in an afterthought. “Perhaps they’ll know the truth one day. Sooner rather than later would be best,” he said. He took a step back. “I apologize for the inconvenience. . .Willow.”

“Will I see you again?” she asked.

His lips twitched slightly before settling into a thin line. “Thank you,” he forced.

Willow blinked. He was gone before her eyes reopened, stinging slightly with sudden wetness. She heard the door open behind her a second before the spell hit her skull.
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