Snape sighed heavily as he stood in front of the mirror in his bedroom. He hated formal occasions with a passion, but this year he knew he'd hate it even more. Potter's punishment essay had struck a chord with him. The following sentences kept echoing in the back of his mind. A witch prefers the tall, dark, and handsome type, but that combination is extremely rare. Witches also are increasingly liking bad boy wizard types so the eviler the wizard the more the witch likes. Love should be the ultimate ingredient in any relationship. Lust runs out rather quickly after the age of thirty-five. He knew Potter couldn't have known that he was thirty-five, but that stupid phrase kept repeating. It was as if that one sentence was taunting him.

Snape knew lust wasn't what he felt towards Aurora. He wished it was because then he could just ignore the feeling, but those attempts would fail in vain. No matter how many times he'd tell himself at night that he still loved Lily and always would, his dreams lately always contained the dark haired Slytherin witch. He knew it was because of that stupid kiss they shared last year at the Yule Ball. If he had just controlled himself as he had always done before, he wouldn't be in this situation now. But no, for one millisecond he lowered his barriers, and look where that got him. He could barely control himself around her now, hence, why he had earlier touched her soft skin in the staff room.

Angrily, Snape slammed his hand against the mirror before he lost control of his emotions again. He snarled at the pain as the shattered glass cut into his hand. However, he had to admit that the pain was better than what he had felt earlier. He knew he was being absurd, but he stared at his hand before healing it. He then waved a hand at the broken mirror, which instantly repaired itself again.

Staring at his reflection, Snape sighed heavily again. He wore his black frockcoat over the white undershirt and black slacks. He looked like he always did for formal occasions. However, he unfortunately remembered Dumbledore's parting order from this morning's meeting. He was not to wear his regular outfit, but instead wear his best robes. Snape knew precisely what robes the wizard was talking about, and he had to admit that he had always wanted a reason to wear them again. Long ago, before the fiasco with Lily their fifth year, Snape had thought he'd save those robes for his and Lily's wedding, but when she married Potter, it dashed those dreams.

Snape glanced at his wardrobe. Black upon black stared back, except for the way back where brilliant emerald and silver robes hung. He could see the soft material glisten in what little light he had. Drawing in a breath, he pulled the majestic robes out, shook the dust off that collected on them, and undid his frockcoat. As soon as the velvety material touched his skin, he felt the magic coming off the emerald robes. He knew just by the mere magical aura around it that his mother had infused her magic into the material. He closed his dark eyes as he remembered the day she gave it to him. He had just received his Hogwarts letter a week earlier.

"Stand still, Severus. Severus, stand still now! Severus Tobias Snape, you stand still right now before I stick you to the floor," his mother had chided as she motioned with her wand. She softly laughed when he did as she instructed him. "Now, you must remember never to let your father catch you wearing these."

"Yes, Mother," drawled his eleven-year-old self. Some days he swore she thought he was an imbecile.

"Don't be snippy with me, Severus. These robes are very important."

"They're just robes, Mother," he replied with a slight growl. He had already put up with her fussing for nearly an hour. He did have other things to be doing than having her fuss over him.

"Excuse me, young man, what did you just say?" Eileen replied while forcing him to look at her. "They're just robes? Oh, young man, you are in serious need of grounding for that comment. They are much more than robes. Every member of the Prince family has added a bit of their magic to these robes. When you wear these, young Severus, you will never be alone. We will always be with you."

He scoffed at her before rolling his eyes. They were just robes. He didn't know what she was talking about by saying his dead relatives would always be with him. If his mother's family honestly was with him always, then he knew he wouldn't be sporting his lovely marks that his dear sweet father left for him. When he felt the slight sting on his backside, his eyes widened before he glanced at his mother.

"Give me any more of that attitude of yours, and you'll learn how purebloods punish their children, Severus," Eileen threatened while motioning with her black wand again.

"Fine, Mother, I apologize."

"Oh, what am I going to do with you, Severus?" she replied exasperatedly, throwing her arms in the air.

The thirty-five-year-old, almost thirty-six, Snape sighed before walking out of his quarters. It was time.