Lustful Alchemy

6. CASSANDRA

I storm into the library, my footsteps echoing on the stairs and the carpeted floor beneath.

«Miss Doyle, this is a library, not a brawl!», scolds Madam Scribner, the librarian. I admit to being a bit surprised to see her again, and I'd swear these ten years since our last encounter have made her even more sour. I try to regain my composure and head towards the Reference Section, searching for books on philosophy to help dismantle Sharp's prejudices not only in Alchemy but also in human approach. On second thought, perhaps he could benefit from reading a few. It's absurd that someone named Aesop has such a practical outlook on life!

I spend a few hours in the library, taking notes and preparing a proper dossier that I'll bring to Sharp's office tomorrow. The thought of spending time alone with him in the same room sends a shiver down my spine, but as I catch myself biting my lip, I realize the idea isn't entirely unpleasant. If only his personality matched his physical appearance, I'd be much less reluctant to prove my worth to him. "Prove my worth to him"?! I don't have to prove anything to anyone, especially not to an egotistical man. Circumstances that stuck us together will undoubtedly find a way to make it clear, and I shouldn't even entertain the thought of having to prove anything to him!

To halt this endless stream of thoughts, I rise from the desk, books and scrolls in hand. I record the loans with Madam Scribner and once outside, head towards the Faculty Tower. I notice my heart pounding louder as I approach, genuinely anxious to find Sharp in our quarters, his piercing gaze inspecting me as if I were an artifact for sale at Borgin & Burke. I take out my wand and cast an Alohomora; taking a deep breath, I open the door to the room. Empty.

Now that I have a bit less anxiety about every move being meticulously scrutinized, I head towards the fireplace, casting a Glacius at the flame. I ascend the stairs and enter my bedroom. I arrange books and papers on the desk, then retracing my steps back out of our quarters, including a Locking Charm. Only as I walk back through the corridor of the Faculty Tower in reverse do I realize my stomach growls mercilessly. With lunchtime past, I head to the kitchens, glancing around a thousand times in fear that Sharp and his cutting cynicism might appear unexpectedly. The day has been eventful enough; I don't need any more of his remarks.

I descend the spiral staircase leading to the dungeons and stand in front of the painting with the pear, tickling it to prompt the entrance to the kitchens. The act of tickling the fruit has always amused me, coupled with a genuine wonder for all the magical quirks this school is filled with.

«Miss Doyle!», I hear a small voice to my left call. I turn in its direction, finding a little house-elf peering at me from behind a chest, its large green eyes fixed on me.

«Good afternoon, Gombkey! – I say, approaching him with a smile – I'm truly delighted to see you again».

A surprised murmur begins to spread among the small inhabitants of the kitchens. Apparently, nothing has changed: they still get flustered just like the first time if treated with respect.

«The pleasure is Gombkey's, Miss Doyle», he replies, nodding with a bow. Then he pauses, widens his eyes even more, and exclaims loudly: «Gombkey didn't mean to offend! You're not just "Miss" anymore: Gombkey heard that now you're a Professor at Hogwarts School!».

Behind him, a small group of curious house-elves has gathered, all of them looking at me with admiration. «You certainly haven't offended me! – I reassure him – If you want to continue calling me Miss Doyle, you can». Gombkey begins to respond when behind me, I hear a commotion of pots and dishes. I turn to see three busy elves preparing what I imagine to be a magnificent meal for me, while another tugs at my skirt, presumably intending to usher me to the Great Hall for dinner.