autumn | severus snape

forty five

The room was silent, save for the faint crackle of the fire that cast long shadows over the stone walls. Ophelia stood before the door that led to Snape's personal storeroom in the corner of his office. Her hands trembled as she drew her wand, murmuring a quiet unlocking spell.

The lock clicked, and the door swung open. Inside were rows of meticulously labeled jars, each neatly organized by ingredient type. She scanned the shelves, her eyes darting over the familiar names: Boomslang Skin, Armadillo Bile, Fluxweed. And then her gaze landed on them, Sopophorous Beans.

There wasn't just one jar. There were several, stacked in neat rows, each filled to the brim with the precious beans. Far more than he could possibly need for his lessons. Her stomach twisted.

Ophelia reached for one of the jars, holding it up to the light. The beans inside gleamed faintly, their surfaces smooth and flawless. These were fresh, far fresher than anything from the school's shared stores.

He harvested them just before the vines were destroyed.

She set the jar down carefully, her fingers trailing over the other labels. Each was dated, and the most recent batch was from just days before the vines had started to wither. Her heart sank further.

"Looking for something?"

The cold voice behind her sent a chill down her spine. Ophelia spun around, the jar still in her hand, to find Snape standing in the doorway. His expression was unreadable, but the sharpness in his gaze made her stomach drop.

"I—" she started, but her voice faltered.

Snape's eyes flicked to the jar in her hand. His jaw tightened. "Breaking into a professor's private stores is grounds for expulsion, Miss Delisle," he said, his tone low and deliberate. "You need to leave, now."

Ophelia straightened, clutching the jar defensively. "Why do you have so many?" She demanded, her voice shaking but resolute.

"That is none of your concern," he replied, stepping closer, his black robes trailing behind him like a shadow. "Now, go back to your dormitory, Miss Delisle."

"Ana's sick," Ophelia shot back, her anger flaring, "so it very much is my concern. Did you destroy the vines, Professor?"

His expression darkened, but he didn't answer immediately. Instead, he reached out and took the jar from her hands with a deliberate, almost gentle motion. "You don't know what you're talking about," he said quietly, setting the jar back on the shelf.

"Then explain it to me," Ophelia pressed, her voice rising.

The room fell silent, the tension thick enough to choke on. Finally, Snape exhaled, his shoulders relaxing just slightly.

"The vines were dying long before you noticed, I harvested what I could to preserve them. That is all," he said, his tone hurried.

"And what do they have to do with the bond?"

"It doesn't matter," he said, though there was a flicker of hesitation in his eyes.

Ophelia's hands were trembling, her mind racing as she glanced at the labels, searching for answers, or proof, perhaps.

"Be quiet," Snape said suddenly from the doorway, his voice low and tense.

"I didn't say anything," Ophelia shot back in a hushed whisper, though her irritation was undercut by the nervous energy filling the room.

Before Snape could respond, there was a loud knock at the office door. The sound reverberated through the space, heavy and deliberate.

Snape stiffened instantly, his expression darkening. "No matter what happens, stay here," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.