autumn | severus snape

forty one

The dim glow of enchanted lanterns lit the greenhouse, their soft light reflecting off the dew-kissed leaves of magical plants. Ophelia and Teddy stood over a small cauldron perched on a portable stand. The air was thick with the earthy smell of herbs, damp soil, and the faint metallic tang of potion ingredients.

"Alright," Ophelia breathed, her voice steady but tinged with nervous energy. "Let's try this."

Teddy glanced at her, his brow furrowed. "Are we sure about the measurements?" He asked, holding a small jar of Frostshade leaves.

"As sure as we can be without an actual potion master overseeing us," she said dryly, though her lips twitched into a faint smile.

"Fair enough," Teddy muttered, carefully adding the leaves into the cauldron. The potion inside hissed and turned a pale, swirling gray.

Ophelia leaned forward, her wand at the ready. "Now for the Moly infusion," she said, lifting a small vial of golden liquid. She added three precise drops, watching as the potion turned a faint lavender and began to emit a soft, steady glow.

Teddy stepped back, folding his arms as he watched the mixture. "It's... glowing. That's a good sign, right?"

Ophelia didn't answer, her focus fixed on the potion. She gave it a careful stir, murmuring an incantation under her breath to stabilize the temperature. The glow dimmed slightly but remained steady.

"Okay," she said finally, exhaling. "It's stable. Let's test it."

Teddy retrieved the enchanted bracelet and ring they had set up earlier with the help of Professor Flitwick, though he remained unbeknownst to the true purpose of it. It was simple magical bond created to mimic the siphoning effect of the Thief's Bond. He set the items on the workbench and gave Ophelia a nod.

With a steady hand, Ophelia ladled a small amount of the potion into a vial and poured a single drop onto the bracelet.

For a moment, nothing happened. The bracelet lay motionless, the faint glow of the magical bond unchanged.

"Did it—" Teddy started, but then the bond flickered.

Both of them leaned forward, holding their breath. But nothing.

"Maybe the Moly and Frostshade aren't enough on their own," Teddy suggested. "Or maybe we need something to balance the disruption and protection."

Ophelia nodded slowly, her mind already racing with possibilities. "We're missing something," she said quietly. "A stabilizer, maybe... or a catalyst."

Teddy placed a hand on her shoulder, offering a small, encouraging smile. "It's a start, though," he said. "We learned something. That's progress."

Ophelia managed a faint smile in return. "Progress," she repeated, though the word felt heavy.

As the potion's glow faded in the cauldron, the two of them began cleaning up, their determination unshaken despite the setback. It wasn't the breakthrough they'd hoped for, but it was a step forward.

𖠇

Snape stood near the blackboard, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his dark eyes sharp with frustration. Professor Brown leaned against a nearby desk, her calm demeanor a stark contrast to his barely-contained irritation.

"You were only supposed to leave her the book," Snape hissed, his voice low but filled with barely restrained anger. "The entire point was for her to figure it out herself."

Brown raised an eyebrow, her expression unbothered. "And she did. To a point."

"You spelled everything out for her." Snape took a step closer, his robes sweeping behind him like a shadow. "And now she's blaming me."

"She deserved to know," Brown said firmly, her arms crossing now. "You can't keep her in the dark forever, Severus. She's not a child."

"She is not ready," Snape snapped, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself. "Do you have any idea the kind of danger you've put her in by telling her everything? The more she knows, the more she becomes a target."

Brown sighed, tilting her head. "You don't give her enough credit. She's stronger than you think."

Snape's jaw tightened, and he turned away, his hands gripping the edge of the desk so hard his knuckles turned white. "Strength is not the issue," he said quietly.

"She has a right to the truth," Brown countered, her voice unwavering. "And maybe if you weren't so busy trying to protect her from it, she'd be better equipped to handle it."

Snape whipped around, his eyes flashing dangerously. "And maybe if you weren't so quick to insert yourself into matters that do not concern you, she wouldn't be carrying this alone."

"Alone? She has people to lean on, Severus, she is not your pawn," Brown said. "And she's not some fragile thing you need to shield from the world. She's capable, and she deserves to make her own choices, even if you don't agree with them."

Snape's silence was deafening, but the tension in the room was palpable. Finally, he straightened, his voice cold and deliberate. "If anything happens to her because of your interference, it will be on your head, Brown. Not mine."

Brown shrugged, seemingly unaffected by his threat. "If anything happens to her, it will be because of your reluctance to trust her."

Snape's lips pressed into a thin line, his mind warring between his anger at Brown and his own guilt.

"Fine," he said, his voice low, but the sharp edge of concern was unmistakable. "The ones who threw her into the lake, have you found them?"

Brown sighed, her gaze flickering to the floor for a moment. "Not yet," she admitted. "Whoever it was, they were careful. No one's talking, not even the students who might have overheard something."

Snape's jaw tightened, his fingers tapping lightly against his forearm. "You're telling me that students were able to orchestrate something like this without leaving a single trail?"

"Severus," Brown said evenly, "you know as well as I do how these things work. Fear is a powerful motivator. If the students are scared, they won't say anything, no matter what they've seen or heard."

"Then you're not looking hard enough," he snapped, his voice rising slightly.

Brown raised an eyebrow, her calm demeanor unwavering. "And you're letting your emotions cloud your judgment."

Snape straightened, his dark eyes narrowing. "This isn't about emotions. It's about keeping Hogwarts safe."

Brown's expression softened slightly. "I understand your frustration, Severus. But storming around the castle like a thundercloud isn't going to get us answers. We need to be smart about this."

Snape didn't respond immediately, his gaze fixed on a crack in the stone floor. "Find them," he said firmly. "Whoever did this, they'll answer for it."

Brown nodded. "I'll keep digging. But, Severus..."

"What?"

"You need to talk to her," she said. "Not as her professor. Not as a soldier in a war. As someone who cares about her."

Snape's lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, he looked as though he might argue. "Let me know if you find anything," he said instead, his tone once again clipped and professional.

Without another word, he swept past her, his robes billowing as he left the room.

Brown watched him go, her expression softening slightly. "Careful, Severus," she smirked to the empty room. "Someone might think you actually care."