Unexpected Fate (Severus Snape x Reader)

𝟎𝟗 - 𝓡𝓮𝓯𝓵𝓮𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼

The day after the students' rescue, Hogwarts was a mix of relief and tension. The restoration of Hermione, Colin, and the others from their petrified state was crucial. Snape was in the Potions classroom, preparing the antidote for the basilisk's petrification. I decided to visit him, hoping to learn more about the intricate potion-making process.

Entering the dimly lit room, I was immediately enveloped by the familiar scent of herbs and brewing ingredients. Snape stood at his workbench, his dark eyes focused on a cauldron containing a swirling, golden liquid.

"Professor Snape," I began, trying to sound casual, "I was wondering if I could borrow a book on Potions. I'd like to understand the techniques you're using for this restoration potion."

Severus glanced up, his expression a blend of curiosity and skepticism. "Yes, you may. The book on advanced Potions techniques is on the shelf behind me. But bring it back promptly."

I retrieved the book and returned to Severus's side, where he continued his work with meticulous precision. His eyes flicked to me, a hint of amusement barely concealed.

"Are you here to observe, or do you intend to assist?" he asked, his tone carrying a note of challenge.

"I'd like to help," I replied, trying to sound confident. "I haven't had much practical experience, but I'm eager to learn."

Snape's eyebrow arched, a clear indication of his doubts. "Very well. If you're going to assist, follow my instructions exactly. This potion is delicate. One mistake and it could ruin everything."

„Oh nice, no pressure." I said amused like scared.

He handed me a small knife and a container of mandrake root. "Start by finely chopping this. Ensure that the pieces are uniform. Precision is crucial."

I took the knife and began chopping the mandrake root carefully. Severus watched me with a critical eye. After a few moments, he spoke up.

"Your chopping technique is somewhat lacking," he observed coldly. "Uniformity is not just a suggestion; it's a requirement. Do you understand?"

I nodded, feeling the sting of his critique. "Yes, Professor. I'll be more careful."

"Good," he said, his tone indicating he remained unimpressed. "Now, add the mandrake to the cauldron and stir counterclockwise. Be cautious not to overmix. We wouldn't want to end up with a failed potion due to carelessness."

I followed his instructions, adding the mandrake to the cauldron and stirring as directed. Severus's gaze remained stern, his scrutiny unyielding. I feel transported back to my school days. Somethings never change.

"No, no," he said sharply, stepping closer. "You're not stirring correctly."

Before I could respond, Severus placed his hand over mine, guiding my movements with a firmness that left no room for argument. His touch was surprisingly deliberate, his fingers aligning with mine to demonstrate the precise, controlled motion required.

"See?" he instructed, his voice unyielding. "The stirring must be consistent and smooth. Any deviation can affect the potion's outcome."

I tried to focus on the motion, feeling his hand over mine, guiding me. His proximity and touch were unexpected, and I struggled to maintain my composure.

"Better," he said, though his tone remained stern. "But remember, precision is key. Potions require more than just effort—they demand perfection."

I kept my focus on the task, trying to suppress the frustration at his harsh critique. "I understand, Professor. I'm doing my best."