𝐔𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥

Brilliant and irritating

Blanche was relieved to learn that Narcissa didn't come for her; however, she knew Lorraine knew where to find her. Her sister's ruthlessness worried her more than anything since Lorraine had no reason not to come for her. It was a matter of time, that was passing by worryingly quickly, day after day, lesson after lesson. Her nerves were a wreck: everything set her off and her reactions were disproportionate to be socially acceptable, and she knew it. The students' silly pranks were the last of her concerns, and yet she let them get to her in an excessive measure.

Her expertise in Defense Against the Dark Arts wasn't enough to let her find a way to strengthen the protective barrier on her own, and Snape wasn't exactly in a better situation. Minerva periodically asked for updates, and Blanche always felt guilty when she had to tell her they were still working on it. Honestly, she was feeling inadequate, as the nights she was spending on her books weren't paying off as she hoped they would.

It was Sunday morning, October 23rd when she finally came up with a decent idea. They needed a spell to inhibit apparating and to identify any potential intruder who managed to get through it; the problem was how they could restrict its field of enforcement, since it would impede apparating to the students and the staff, too. It needed to be combined with an identifying charm. But what about authorized guests?

She hadn't slept properly in days, and her back hurt from the hours she had spent at the table in her room. She needed to take some action as soon as possible. It was 4 am, but she didn't care; she gathered her books and her notes, and she went to find Severus. They needed to combine their labor for it to work, and she was desperate enough to cooperate with him. Strengthening the barrier wouldn't only protect the school; it would protect her, too.

She automatically greeted the dormant portrait in the corridor, who grumbled from his frame, and quickly went down the steep stairs trying not to drop anything. The castle was immersed in pleasant silence, but her head was full of cumbersome thoughts; the sound of her steps wasn't rapid enough when it echoed around her. She picked up a quicker pace; her heart was accelerating, and she was panting by the time she got in front of Snape's study. With her hands full of a weighty load, she didn't manage to knock, so she just pushed the thick, wooden door open with her foot. It feebly creaked, spoiling the reigning silence.

The crackling fireplace dimly lit the chamber, projecting dancing shadows everywhere; a few candles were burning on the desk buried in books. Piles and piles of volumes invaded not only the desk itself, but every corner of the room, including the floor; sheets full of handwritten annotations were disseminated everywhere. Blanche looked for someplace to put her own books down, but, as everything was already covered, she ended up placing them on the already packed chair in front of the desk.

Severus was sitting in his usual armchair, bent over the table; he weirdly didn't respond to her intrusion, remaining motionless. Blanche decided to peek at what he was doing. She came closer, and she was surprised to find him passed out.

He had fallen asleep on an open textbook, weakly holding his pen against the wooden surface; his usually elegant hands were covered in black ink, and strands of raven hair were scattered on his face. She could see his thin lips, slightly parted, and closed eyes; his wide shoulders raising narrowly with every regular, lengthy breath he took. It was the first time she could see them distinctly; he was just in his black, buttoned-up blouse, with a couple of the upper buttons, just under his chin, undone.

It was strange, not to see him sitting straight. He looked helpless and vulnerable; but, most of all, human.

What does someone like him dream of?

Blanche found herself to be exceptionally curious. She was standing still, facing a sleeping Severus, just watching him and reflecting. His comebacks were consistently sarcastic and objectionable, but nonetheless brilliant; brilliant was the first adjective that came to her mind when thinking of him. Irritating was a close second. As much as he annoyed her to no end with his attitude, she had to recognize his bright intellect.

She didn't want to wake him up. She felt embarrassed by the idea of him awakening to her staring, so she took a careful step back, before noticing his cloak. It had fallen from his shoulders to the wooden floor; since the fireplace was slowly beginning to turn off, she decided to cover him. With the utmost care, she circumnavigated the desk, trying not to step on anything, and she grabbed the cloak from the floor. It was surprisingly heavy and textured; it usually floated effortlessly behind him, like it held no weight, and Blanche was a little startled. She briefly considered that she could have done it using the wand, but it was too late. She delicately put it on his shoulders, skimming across them with her fingertips. They were solid, and their warmth radiated through the thick fabric.

She hesitated a little.

To be so close to him while he was sleeping felt strangely intimate. His breath slightly moved the lightest hair on his face, making it quiver; his face, usually restless, was finally relaxed in the peace of sleep. She could smell his scent: a warm mixture of bergamot, old books, and something else she didn't recognize. Thyme?

The concept of him being an actual, living person never ceased to amaze Blanche.

She carefully backed off and quietly exited the room, forgetting her books where she had put them. Out the door, she realized that she had left her material in there, but she didn't want to go back in.

The massive workload she had taken upon herself in the last few days was starting to take its toll on her.

Well, she didn't have an amicable personality to begin with, but things were getting out of hand, the first example being her slamming a book on a student's quill. She didn't regret it, but she also hoped that Minerva didn't know about that scene. Yikes.

I need to pull myself together.