Severus Snape: The Half Blood Prince

*(28) Confessions

 Dumbledore concluded, gently rubbing the beak of a white raven with blue eyes, which let out a soft caw each time Sophie was mentioned.

Instead of going to their usual hangout spot, Sophie led Severus to the Potion's classroom, a sanctuary of bubbling cauldrons and shelves lined with ancient ingredients. The room, dimly lit by flickering candlelight, exuded an air of secrecy and knowledge. Professor Slughorn was nowhere to be seen, still indulging in his breakfast and leaving the classroom deserted until his afternoon classes.

Sophie stepped confidently into the room, her footsteps echoing softly against the stone floors. She surveyed the space, her eyes settling on the frontmost desk on the left-hand side, closest to the right wall. It was a position that afforded them privacy and a clear view of the room. With a determined stride, she settled into the seat, feeling the cool wood against her fingertips as she attempted to pop her back, seeking a moment of physical relief.

"It's easier for us to talk in here. Plus, I can brew a potion for myself since Madam Pomfrey overlooked some bruising and internal damage," Sophie explained, her voice resonating within the room's stillness. She rose gracefully from her seat, her movements purposeful as she gathered the necessary ingredients for her concoction. "Sev, can you grab a cauldron for me?"

"Absolutely," Severus replied, his dark eyes fixed on Sophie's determined figure. He maneuvered around her, his steps silent and calculated, reaching the shelves where the freshly cleaned cauldrons awaited their use.

As Sophie began her potion-making process, the air became infused with a medley of scents—earthy, spicy, and tinged with a hint of magic. She had a specific version of the 'Pepperup Potion' in mind, a unique blend that went beyond its conventional purpose. It was crafted not only to address minor health issues like colds but also to soothe the mental stress from trauma and alleviate the pain from her bruises. Her expertise guided her as she gathered the required ingredients: bicorn horn, mandrake root, English thyme, salamander blood, and fire seeds.

Once everything was set out for the Pepperup Potion, she turned her attention to the Draught of Peace. She carefully measured powdered moonstone, syrup of hellebore, powdered unicorn hair, and powdered porcupine quills, each ingredient carrying its own unique properties.

With a sense of purpose and determination, Sophie began the delicate dance of potion-making. She ground a piece of bicorn horn into a fine powder, using the mortar next to the cauldron. The rhythmic sound of grinding filled the room, harmonizing with the bubbling of other potions simmering nearby.

As the potion brewed, its rich aroma filled the air, a mixture of herbs and magic intertwining in a delicate balance. Sophie's eyes flicked up, her gaze meeting Severus's reflection in the cauldron. A smile danced upon her lips, a gentle beacon of trust and understanding. "What was it that you wanted to talk about, Severus?" Sophie began, her voice filled with warmth and curiosity. She added two pinches of crushed bicorn horn to her cauldron, the powdered ingredient swirling into the brew like stardust falling into a night sky. "You did seem rather adamant in wanting to tell me."

Severus paused, his eyes tracing the intricate patterns forming within the potion. The gentle heat emanating from the cauldron seemed to mirror the intensity of his thoughts. "Ah, that," he urged, his voice laced with a mixture of apprehension and longing. He observed Sophie with a mixture of curiosity and vulnerability as she added mandrake root, her movements precise and graceful.

"Since we are secluded, I guess it is safer to say here, but..." Severus hesitated, his words caught between the desire to reveal his truth and the fear of its consequences.

"But?" Sophie prompted, adjusting the cauldron's heat to a medium temperature, her eyes fixed on the potion's transformation. She left the mixture to brew for about half an hour, the silence of the room allowing their words to hang in the air, pregnant with anticipation. Crossing her arms, she stored the remaining bicorn horn, her gaze unwavering as it locked onto Severus.