Dark Magic

The Potion's Master

"Is it something you would enter?" Draco's voice broke my train of thought as we made the journey to the dungeons, in the direction of the Slytherin Common Room. Scoffing, I shook my head, "I promised myself no more drama this year, Draco. Plus, I'm not stupid enough to enter a contest where people have died. I actually value my life." I smirked.

The boy laughed, "My father said that the Ministry have made sure there won't be any accidents or death in this Tournament; too many safety measures in place, or something." He shrugged, the two of us rounding another corridor as the air grew suddenly chilly. The depths of the Hogwarts dungeons had always been cold, so this was no new sensation. Or, perhaps, it was Draco's hand briskly brushing past my own that made me suddenly all too aware of my surroundings.

"Doesn't sway me. Besides, I've got Quidditch to worry about." I sighed, rubbing my temple at the thought of having to plan every game strategy for the next term in the hopes I could exceed Flint's expectations.

I watched the trail of students up ahead as a dark, cloaked figure stepped out of the line and disappeared through the Potion's classroom door; my own footsteps coming to an abrupt halt as I stepped out of the crowd. Draco continued to be carried away by the flow of other pupils, turning to face me in confusion, "Em, what are you-"

"-I've got to talk to Snape about Quidditch. I'll meet you back in the Common Room!" I called out, the crowds of students now drowning out his response as he continued to be dragged down the corridor of Slytherins. I took a steady breath, before opening the door and stepping inside.

"Severus?" I noted the classroom was, seemingly, empty. Perhaps, he was in his room. Stalking towards it, I carefully brushed my hand against the door. Before I could open it, however, a voice called out from behind me, "Emerald?" Gasping, I whirled around to face the man, barely distinguishable in the shadows as he stepped into the candlelight; his eyes shocked and confused momentarily as he scanned me from head to toe.

"You-...You've grown so much." He breathed, an irrevocable smile spreading across my lips at his compliment as I found my feet irrevocably walking towards him as he pulled me into his arms. He was shorter than I remembered, even from just over a month ago. Or perhaps I was taller, for my arms now reached the small of his back. The familiar scent of white musk and parchment radiated off him, as I closed my eyes and inhaled the smell of his robes.

And we stayed like that for a while, I think. "How was your summer?" Evidently, not long enough, as he let me go and waited patiently for an answer. 

"Good, I suppose. I spent quite a bit of it with Harry. We stayed at the Weasley Burrow for a couple of weeks-"

"-You left the school grounds?" He cut me off, concern and confusion evident in his voice.

"Yes. Dumbledore gave me permission. But.." And I debated telling him this, "we went to the World Cup-"

"You were at the World Cup!?" He shouted with venom, but it was no louder than a whisper for fear of the crowding students hearing on their return to the dormitories, outside. The Potion's Master began to pace the room, "Were you hurt? Did anyone see you?"

I shook my head, "No, but there were Deatheater's there." He came to an abrupt halt, his right hand instinctively reaching over to hold his left arm; a sudden chill struck my spine, the hairs on the back of my neck standing upright at the realisation of what his actions meant.

I took a big step away from him, my eyes welling with tears at the fear, dread and disbelief sinking into my stomach. Severus' arms dropped at my notion, confused. "Emerald, are you-"

"-Are you one of them?" My voice came out weak. Broken. Barely above a whisper. But he heard. And my worst fears were answered in his silence. I knew the answer. It was in his eyes. And his thoughts, which allowed themselves to slip for a brief moment.