The Potion Master's Apprentice (A Severus Snape love story)

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Six

The rain - always a pathetic fallacy - was lashing somewhat aggressively at the classroom windows. The dungeons had been temporarily closed as some idiot had decided to set up a permanent swamp that now engulfed the entire Potion's classroom.

Severus snapped his eyes away from the April showers and instead focused intently on theincompetent children currently handing him their potions. He inspected them scurrilously, occasionally giving a noncommittal grunt but otherwise made no sound and instead scowled at the bumbling student who had given him a poor excuse for Amortentia.

Newt students were usually of high quality - after all, he would only let those highly gifted in the art continue with Potions, but for some reason no-one seemed to be able to master this apparently easy potion (Easy for him anyway)

Uncorking the final vile of potion, Severus raised his eyebrows and experienced the sensation that was usually associated with a properly brewed batch of love potion. Swirling clouds of startling silver vapour rose in spirals from the small droplet of shimmering mother-of-pearl liquid that he was currently testing.

Inhaling the deep, rich aroma he growled angrily under his breath and threw the now corked bottle roughly onto his desk where it surprisingly didn't smash. He was tempted to give the girl an F but realised that it was not her fault that all he could smell was Florence's perfume, Florence's hair and just Florence's smell.

Six months and not even a letter. People skimmed over the subject and tried to avoid talking to him - afraid of what he might say if they angered him. But why should he be angered? He used to say to the unsuspecting victims of his rage. It's probably better that he got free of her, he really dodged a bullet there. Then he'd laugh chillingly and everyone could finally see the pain etched onto his face, only for a second, before it was wiped cleanly away.

*~*~*~*

"Headmaster?" Severus drawled as Dumbledore stepped into his quarters with a grim expression on his face, Eyes glittering much more dimly than usual and glasses sliding off the end of his nose.

"Severus, I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news..." He said this before sighing loudly and gesturing to the sofa behind Severus. "Please, take a seat, this might be a bit of a shock."

"I'm fine standing." He growled as Dumbledore fixed him with a sympathetic look. Slipping a piece of torn, old parchment from within the many layers of his multicoloured robes, the elderly Headmaster handed it over to Severus who took it cautiously.

"Read it, it'll explain everything." Dumbledore said quietly as Severus flipped the page open and quickly skimmed the writing - eyebrows riding higher up his forehead so by the time he had finished reading they were up near his hair line. Glancing up he stared at Dumbledore and opened and closed his mouth quickly as if trying to find the words he had to say. Finally, he managed to utter a word. Just one word.

"Florence." Dumbledore nodded resignedly.

"I'm afraid so."

*~*~*~*

Across the other side of the country, somewhere near the Cornish coast, it was raining too. But this rain was far heavier as it battered down on the long winding roads and desolate marshland highlighted by a jagged coast line of tumbling waves and rocky cliff faces.

Moorland grasses were ripped and thrashed by the torrents of raindrops as the mud swelled and sloshed across the bloated earth. It was like the middle of nowhere here, sky heavy and dense with storm clouds as the desolate horizon stretched on for what seemed like an eternity. The closest piece of civilisation was a surprisingly crowded inn that stood shaking in the wind at the peak of an especially lethal looking cliff.