Lustful Alchemy

8. CASSANDRA

I slam the Potions Classroom door shut hastily, perhaps with a bit too much force, eager to leave. I swiftly navigate the corridors and stairs, hoping the marble walls of Hogwarts can extinguish the fire that has ignited on my cheeks and within me.

The air had already become tense when I found out I'd have to be alone with Sharp in his tiny office. But when he leaned towards me, eyes locked on mine to light his cigarette, his intoxicating scent filling my nostrils, a fire exploded deep within me. I could have remained suspended in that tension all day, anticipating the next move, both intoxicated by the idea of provoking and teasing each other at the first opportunity.

I know he's aware of it too, noticing how he lingers when the right moment arises, taking advantage of my lack of reaction, his eyes eagerly expecting a sign of surrender. He luxuriates in his own idea that I'm his prey, waiting to be chased. He knows that in that office, I wasn't just feeling cold.

In different circumstances, I wouldn't behave this way, but I must admit the weakness of the flesh, especially considering it's been a long time since I allowed a man to look at me and talk to me the way Sharp does. The truth is, I didn't allow him; he took this liberty himself, catching me off guard constantly, aware he can play his game and set the rules at his pleasure. Secure in the knowledge that, no matter how many times I may respond in kind, the last word putting me against the wall will always be his.

So why does this attitude, which would typically anger me, cloud my mind so much, making everything intriguing? Why did I want him to follow me out of that classroom... or for us to stay there, away from prying eyes and ears?

The memory of his lingering gaze on my chest makes me flush so intensely that I have to sit by a window to calm down and catch my breath. I close my eyes and take deep breaths, trying to think of anything but Sharp. I attempt to completely detach myself from the world around me to regain some composure, but soon realize it's not working: I feel the touch of his hand on my shoulder, his warm skin that just moments ago held my hand. I try to push him out of my mind when a voice interrupts my thoughts, making me startle.

«Cassandra?». Clearly not him, as he never calls me by name. I turn around, and standing behind me is the petite figure of Professor Hecat, a worried look on her face.

«Professor, hello!», I reply, getting back on my feet.

«Are you feeling okay? You're burning up», she asks, touching my cheek.

«Absolutely fine! Just a bit warm...», I lie, trying to pretend that she hasn't just interrupted a train of thought inappropriate for school hallways, especially with someone who used to be my Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

«... and hungry! I'm also very hungry», I add, attempting to avoid her scrutinizing gaze and redirect her attention elsewhere.

She looks at me, unconvinced by my evasive answer. «Well, it so happens that I'm heading to the Great Hall for the same reason», she says, gently taking my arm and walking with me in that direction.

I try to politely break free from her gentle yet firm and determined grip. «Professor, actually, I was planning to go to the Kitchens», I object.

«Ah yes, the house-elf thing...», she replies thoughtfully. «Is that why you were absent from breakfast this morning?».

I nod, and she continues: «I don't mind knowing that you've still preserved those values that make you unique and, honestly, make your House a bit less... unpleasant», she whispers the last word, making me chuckle.

«But, as commendable as it is, you'll have to start losing this habit and instead begin having your meals in the Great Hall. Now you're a Professor, and it's only right that you sit at the table with the other Faculty, especially when the students start the year», and saying so, we enter the Great Hall together.