Lustful Alchemy

14. CASSANDRA

The comforting sound of Morgan's placid purring wakes me from sleep. It's been a restless night: I couldn't concentrate on reading a book, my mind too distracted by Sharp. Even though we only saw each other in the morning, it was really hard not to think about his light touch on my thigh, his finger dangerously trailing towards my groin. I wished he'd let it roam freely on my body, but damn, we were sitting at the professors' table during breakfast! I had to remove his hand, disappear, and think about something else, without getting too distracted... but, as I said, it was really hard. Also, he wasn't seen for the rest of the day and evening, and when I succumbed to sleep, he still hadn't returned.

Wondering what he does in those moments when he disappears from everyone's sight, I leave the warm, soft sheets and face the cool tingle of the mid-September morning air. I approach the basin to rinse off and comb my hair in the overhead mirror, then choose today's outfit, opting for a black shirt under loose trousers, with small black and green checkered patterns, to which I attach suspenders of the same design. I lace up a pair of black leather boots and head downstairs.

As I walk through the fireplace, however, I realize I'm not alone: Sharp is sitting in the armchair across from me. My stupid, childish heart skips a beat when I see him, and a look of eager happiness and relief spreads across my face. Without his usual brown coat, I can feast my eyes on his strong, slightly tanned arms, free from the confines of his white shirt sleeves, buttoned up above the elbows; he wears a green waistcoat and tie, while the trousers, snug on his equally toned legs, are brown like the buckle boots. His hair falls over his face, creating intriguing shadows that intertwine with that scar disappearing beneath the veil of stubble. His scent is strong, warm, and intriguing, and his hands grip the latest issue of the Daily Prophet... those hands I wish would cup my face like they did that time in the Alchemy Classroom... I can still smell it, cloves mixed with valerian and ginger root, betraying his profession...

«Good morning». His voice brings me back to the present. Bloody hell, how long have I been staring at him?!

«Good morning to you», I reply, trying to avert my gaze from the tangle of veins on his hands and arms as he folds the newspaper. «Why aren't you already in the Great Hall?», I ask, focusing on something other than his limbs. But looking him in the eyes is just as challenging.

«I wanted to wait for you», he answers simply as he rises from the armchair, observing me closely as he approaches, towering over me. Despite my height being decently average, he surpasses me by at least 15 centimetres.

«Are you afraid Dumbledore will snatch me away again?», I reply teasingly, but I can't help but smile as I say it.

He reciprocates, though the tone in his voice is firm and determined: «Absolutely. I don't want him to deprive me of your delightful company».

I look at him perplexed, unsure if he's teasing me or not. What on earth happened to the Sharp who was always grumpy and irritated by my presence? He's not telling me the whole story, but I realize I absolutely don't want to miss out on this side of him that he shows so rarely, so I remain silent. Meanwhile, the smile on his face widens, stretching his lips. Merlin's beard, he's terribly fascinating.

"After you." His deep, warm voice rouses me as he gestures towards the door with his arm. When he stops near a coat rack, I realize I have nothing to shield myself from the drafts of the dungeons, and before he can make jokes about my receptive body to the cold, with a casual flick of my wand I summon a black stole from upstairs, which I drape over one arm.

«Non-verbal spells, though», observes Sharp as he puts on his coat, and I can swear I detect a hint of admiration on his face.

I shrug and with the most innocent expression I can muster, I reply: «I did tell you I have a N.E.W.T. in Charms».