Lustful Alchemy

9. SHARP

I understand that she's expecting an owl, but plans have changed. Since I know exactly where to find her, there's no need for me to procure a bird.

A smirk crosses my face at the thought of her reaction when I suddenly confront her. I can't help but enjoy playing with her, teasing and pushing her to the limit, catching her off guard and vulnerable. This also means ignoring her completely, or at least that's what she thinks. In these days, I've tried to be as invisible as possible, not speaking to her. It's not particularly unpleasant for me, given her often impertinent questions and behavior that only annoys me. I have no intention of changing my habits just because she has settled in my attic. So, I've continued to pursue my solitude, constantly disturbed by her intense scent that now seems to have permeated every corner of the room. A penetrating and sensual fragrance, Mirabel thoughtfully replacing the honey essence in the Prefects' Bathroom. I can't deny that during my morning swims these days, I've succumbed to instincts: turning on the tap with the essence of jasmine and letting myself be enveloped by the scent, I occasionally imagined her naked, with only long brown hair covering her fair skin, and made sure to find pleasure on my own.

Certainly, it would have been much more satisfying to do it between her legs, but I need to test the waters before understanding her true intentions. I want to make sure that her flashes of audacity are not just a result of arrogance but genuine expressions of desire.

As I mentioned, I haven't completely ignored her. I've started reading the book Ronen gave me. I'm still skeptical, but I must admit that at first glance, it doesn't seem to contain any hint of magic. It appears more like a manual to teach Muggle women to fend for themselves without a man's help. I couldn't help but wonder where such a stance toward the male gender comes from, and I would have asked her directly if only the day after our meeting in my office she hadn't come down late in the morning, too confused and disheveled to react to my presence, with the unmistakable smell of burnt herbs typical of Mirabel's cigarettes. I wonder if Mirabel told her that, besides relaxing or reducing pain, they also tend to increase desire. But I'm a better man than those Doyle warns about in her book, and I didn't take advantage. I simply pointed out where I keep the Numbing Potion for her to recover and left my accommodation, avoiding letting my eyes linger too much on the lightweight fabric covering her.

After these days of solitude, during which I continued refining the Alchemy program, I'm now heading to the Library. I know she's there, as every time I entered or left the Potions Classroom, I found her nearby, loaded with scrolls and books.

I pass the fountain in the Central Hall and open the Library door, descending the small staircase and opening the next one. Morning light floods the spacious room: tiny dust particles peacefully dance in the air, while sunlight streaming through the windows creates shadow play on the shelves and furniture. All is quiet, making the Library seem deserted. I approach Madame Scribner, greeting her politely (I could swear her cheeks have slightly reddened), and ask her quietly if Doyle is there. She points to a spot on the right, toward the end of the Library.

I begin to walk along the shelves, observing the empty tables until I find signs of life near the stairs leading to the upper floor: a table cluttered with books and scrolls, a half-drunk glass of pumpkin juice, a light green stole draped over the back of a chair. Sitting somewhat disheveled at the other end of the table, knees drawn to her chest and feet on the chair, there's Doyle, engrossed in reading a book. Her long brown hair falls in soft curls in front of her face, hiding it from my view, but there's no doubt it's her: the jasmine scent heralds her presence from meters away, and the way it blends with the natural scent of her skin is unmistakable. She doesn't notice my presence, and I pause to watch her subtly move her lips, silently reading the words of the book to herself. With a slight cough, I draw her attention.