The Forbidden Love of Aesop Sharp

Chapter 2 - Meeting You Again

Entering the office, I found myself standing in a room filled with the rich scent of herbs and potions. The lighting was dim, casting shadows that danced across the shelves lined with jars and vials containing various magical ingredients. At the desk, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, sat Professor Aesop Sharp, his eyes focused on a parchment.

"Close the door behind you," he acknowledged without looking up, his voice carrying a mixture of formality and curiosity.

I closed the door behind me, my heart pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it. Taking a few tentative steps forward, I cleared my throat to speak. "Professor Sharp," I began, my own voice sounding unsteady to my ears, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

It was as if time had frozen in that moment, and I could feel a whirlwind of emotions bubbling within me - uncertainty, nostalgia, and a pang of something I couldn't quite define.

He finally looked up; his expression unreadable as his dark eyes locked onto mine. "Miss Evans," he replied, his tone measured. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

He motioned for me to take a seat in one of the chairs across from his desk. As I did, the weight of the years since I had last seen him settled in, and the silence between us felt palpable. Memories of our interactions during my time at Hogwarts came rushing back, the late-night discussions about potion theory, his encouraging words, and the moments when our gazes lingered just a little too long.

"I... I've been appointed as the new nurse at Hogwarts," I stammered, my eyes briefly darting away from his intense stare. The air was charged with tension, and I felt anxiety and anticipation well up within me.

His expression remained impassive, but I could see a flicker of something in his eyes, a mixture of emotions that I couldn't quite decipher. "Congratulations," he said, his voice devoid of any overt warmth.

Trying to hide the trembling of my hands, I placed them on my knees, and tried to decipher his attitude. He was cold and rigid in his chair, gazing at me intently but without letting transpire any emotion.

He seemed absorbed in his thoughts, affording me the chance to thoroughly observe him. The lines on his face appeared more pronounced, hinting at the passage of time. Yet, an air of authority and an intriguing sense of mystery still clung to him. His attire was simpler compared to his teaching ensemble. He had traded his uniform for black trousers and a plain white shirt that showcased his most appealing qualities.

He finally raised an eyebrow, and I felt a flush rise to my cheeks as I realized how intensely I had been staring at him in silence, while his inquisitive gaze remained fixed on me. "Thank you..." I managed to articulate with difficulty, lowering my eyes.

"Why did you come, Miss Evans?" he asked finally, bringing his hands together, intertwining them as I glanced up. In spite of the thunderstorm raging outside, which made the castle walls quiver, there was an oppressive heat prevailing within his office.

"Prof... Headmistress Weasley," I corrected myself. "She asked me to come see you to discuss my deficiencies in terms of mastering healing and antidote potions."

He raised an eyebrow and ran his tongue over his lips to moisten them, capturing my attention. Unintentionally, I felt my own lips part slightly. "Three years at North America's best medical school and you can't brew simple healing potions we covered in class during your school years?"

Stung by his words, I tore my gaze away from his lips to shoot him an angry look. I was ready to retort when I remembered that I needed his help for my job. Measuring my words, I tried to speak as clearly as possible. "You only taught me Wiggenweld potions, Professor, and the ailments I had to treat in my work couldn't be cured with this simple potion."