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I Always Did by madamy

Format: One-shot
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 1,166
Status: WIP

Rating: Mature
Warnings: Strong Language, Scenes of a Sexual Nature, Substance Use or Abuse

Genres: Drama, General, Romance
Characters: Dumbledore, Lupin, McGonagall, Snape, Sirius, Tonks, OC
Pairings: Snape/OC

First Published: 07/16/2009
Last Chapter: 07/25/2009
Last Updated: 07/25/2009

Maxine Jamison works for the Daily Prophet along with notorious Rita Skeeter. She dislikes the job but loves the work. Her social life suffers greatly, though. The closest thing to socializing outside of work is getting drunk every Friday evening at the closest pub. The same muggle pub that she shares with infamous Severus Snape. Little did she know that their small friendship would flourish into something greater than they were capable of controlling.

Chapter 1: Chapter 1
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Just when I thought my writing career was over, it sparked brightly again. In life, you meet people from all sorts of walks. Well, one particular day in muggle London I met the man who haunted my dreams. He was in a downfall of troubles. Actually, he was quite drunk in the pub and I happened to be seated nearest to him. See, I was there for the same reason he was. I like to drink when I can’t write and he liked to drink when he couldn’t work under the strain. We were a pair made.

I sipped white rushing. It was classy for me and quite expensive, but at that moment, I didn’t give a damn. I could afford it. Yes, I could. I could afford to sample every drink in the pub. But the money was dying slowly. My fancy flat that I was renting was becoming more than what I could handle and I was searching for a job. Something simple as working at a store for a bit just so I could afford the rent.

I looked at the man cloaked in black to my left. He stared down at his glass of whiskey with a vacant expression. He was completely wasted. I could tell as his head bobbed up and down. And of course not a moment too soon, I reached over and stopped his head from smacking his half empty glass.

The bartender raised an eyebrow at us. I smiled sheepishly, “He’s had a little too much, I think.”

The drunk glared at me through red eyes, “Fuck off.”

I finished off the last of the white rushing and lifted the man from underneath the arms, mumbling, “Don’t be stupid. Can’t have you spilling the beans to the muggles, eh?”

His eyes met mine as he slipped off the stool into my arms, “Pay the man.”

I threw down money and called to the bartender, “Keep the change!”

Out on the street the man pulled away from me and staggered to the wall. I watched as he retched and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. I pulled out my wand carefully not to attract muggles’ eyes and cleared up his mess.

“Sir, tell me where you stay and I’ll help get you there,” I replied watching him close his eyes and push the palm of his hand into his eye, rubbing furiously.

He growled drunkenly, “I can get there on my own.”

I shook my head and dove into his thoughts. I might have been slightly heated and tipsy, but I was accomplished at Occlumency and Legilimens. A blurry vision of the run down home in Spinner’s End came up and the picture of a front door. I drew out quickly of the man’s mind and noticed him staring at me with his mouth opened.

“What’s wrong?”

“Did you-” he stammered, “did you just go into my mind?”

“Yes,” I replied, my cheeks were burning with the alcohol and him calling me out. “Now come on, let’s get you to your home.”

He spat, “You went into my mind even when you’re intoxicated?”

“I’m not intoxicated and I’m perfectly capable of delving into your brain to find out where you live.” I snapped back and started walking off.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going home!” I stormed away.

“You’re just going to leave me here?” Something in his voice forced me to look back at him.

I glared at him and sighed, “I should, you prat.”

“Please.” He closed his eye tightly and I let myself go. I walked back to him and took him home..

That was just the first meeting. I dropped him off and two weeks later we were back in the same predicament, except he was willing to allow me to escort him home. Which I didn’t mind considering he lived only five minutes away from me. We continued meeting at the pub there after.

When I learned the name of the man I was rather shocked that I was associating with him. It was the very man that was hated. I knew his family well, also. Severus Snape was the very man that I was supposed to interview for a column in Potions Perfection. He rudely declined, but that was years ago. I think it was about six years. He was young then, twenty-six. And already a perfectionist about potions.

“Miss Jamison, please pay attention to what is being said in this conversation,” his voice sliced coolly.

I looked at him and smiled politely, “You’re not drunk enough, Mr. Snape.”

He didn’t return the smile though. Instead, he stood up and laid down his money.

“Where are you going?” I followed him out the door.

“Home, Miss Jamison.” His black coat swirled after him.

“Why?” A crisp breeze whipped my hair around my face. “You’re not enjoying my company anymore?”

“I return to work next week. I was planning on telling you that tonight, but you seemed to be caught up in your own world.” He continued walking up the street.

I ran to catch up with him, “I’m sorry. Where do you work? Will we be able to meet up again?”

“Miss Jamison, you talk too much.” He slowed his pace down. “I teach at Hogwarts-”


He furrowed his brow, “Yes, don’t interrupt again.” He continued, “We can arrange meetings if you’d like, but they won’t be as frequent as we are accustomed to.”

“Oh,” I replied. A long silence kept us busy as we walked down another street. When we reached Spinner’s End I stopped him. “Do you enjoy my company, Mr. Snape?”

His dark eyes met mine before he blinked and looked off somewhere else. He started up walking again, not answering my question. I followed him quietly by his side. I found out the hard way that he didn’t like too much attention, and didn’t so much as return the attention. I just enjoyed talking to him whether he listened or not. I didn’t have anyone. No boyfriends, no beaus, no family or close friends to talk to. Yeah, there were the coworkers at the Prophet, but they were high class Fudge-followers. None of them had anything ‘real’ to say. They just worked and talked business.

We stopped at the gate to his home and he turned to me, “I’ll send you an owl for when we can meet up again.”

I gave a weak smile, “Okay. It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Snape.” I didn’t expect too much of a response and turned headed home.


I turned, “Excuse me?”

Something in the way his eye twinkled with snarky appeal, “Professor Snape, Miss Jamison.”

I felt a bigger grin spread, “Maxine, Professor Snape.” I turned around, again, and took off down the street to my house. I could have skipped down there, but I could feel his eyes stabbing my back as I left. I also felt his mind trying to penetrate mine. I chuckled. I’m a locked box.