The Gifted Curse

Chapter 7 - Any Excuse

Geneva was mid way through her breakfast when a piece of parchment was slid in discretion under the table by Orah, who was sat at her side.

"It's for the classes next week," she whispered, "Sign it."

Geneva noticed Orah's shifty eyes, and questioned the secrecy.

"Malfoy..."

"Oh."

Geneva reached for her bag on the floor, turning away from Orah, discreetly keeping her eyes on Professor Snape, who was sat at the staff table between Hagrid and Professor Lupin who he was in conversation with, as serious as ever. She hadn't been able to stop thinking about him after their scrumptious encounter. Geneva retrieved her quill, signed the parchment with at least fifteen signatures, and passed it back to Orah who passed it on to Luna who was waiting dreamily behind them with a flat smile. Luna rolled up the parchment and placed it back into her satchel bag and swept away back to the Ravenclaw table.

It was now two weeks until the end of term. At breakfast, Dumbledore announced an upcoming trip to Hogsmeade for the seventh years, which caused the said year to erupt in excited chatter. Geneva smiled wide at Orah and her fellow Quidditch team nearby. There was nothing more beautiful than Hogsmeade at Christmas. Snape had caught her smile from a distance and was looking over. For a moment their eyes locked so intensely it sent her head woozy as images of the two of them flashed before her eyes breathless and desperate, and then all at once, they disappeared.

Dumbledore finished the rest of his announcement.

"May I remind all students that without a signature from a legal parent or guardian, your place on the trip will be declined," Dumbledore informed, looking down his nose though his half moon spectacles. "I do hope you can all make it. It would be a most enjoyable way to conclude the school year and celebrate the finality of your assessments."

Cheers vibrated off the stone walls, and breakfast that day continued giddily.

                                                                         <O><O><O>

First on the agenda of the day was Herbology, where Neville Longbottom had stepped up to demonstrate the careful retrieval of a blue flower from a lethal looking plant – the one class Neville exceeded in. Still, everyone held their breath for the nail-biting moment he braced his hand above the snappy little thing. The plant's teeth were bared, sharp and salivating the longer Neville hesitated.

Finally, with one quick snatch, he retrieved it and held it high with a wide, bucked toothed grin, receiving applause and a proud look from Professor Sprout. But then, "Arrghhhhhh oh no!!" an almighty scream filled the green house. The plant had thrown itself forward in the ceramic pot and latched on to his buttocks. Neville screamed, everyone did, except for the students that were laughing. Draco's sides were splitting as he slapped the wooden bench in front of him.

Second lesson of the day was History of Magic, followed by Charms, and then, after lunch – Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Potions. Geneva's stomach started to bubble at the thought, just like her purple mixture had done during her practical assessment.

"Hurry up Geneva, or we'll end up at the front!"

Geneva had purposely stopped in the corridor to pull up her long socks and accidently on purpose dropped her books. "Come on," Orah urged, picking them up and pulling her friend so hard she almost tripped. Orah had convinced herself she performed poorly on her Potions assessment and therefore the last place she wanted to sit was the front.

Their lack of haste meant they ended up seated in the second row of lab tables. It was better than the back, Geneva thought, or maybe it wasn't and lacked privacy where she could stare at her Professor unnoticed. Geneva was completely and utterly absorbed with everything about him from the moment he walked into the classroom. He immediately assumed his usual authority, commanding silence with his very presence. An aura Geneva had once perceived as arrogant, and sure, it was, but now in the most delicious way.

Snape, walked between the aisles, with his head up, his eyes looking down his nose at the sheets of parchment he was carrying, handing them out to the students who were eagerly awaiting the results of their practical assessments. Geneva's heart hummed, her belly flipping as he approached her desk and dropped her graded parchment before her. She caught a waft of his intoxicating aroma as his robes swept by, and breathed him in indiscreetly. God she needed him again, to feel him taking her, filling her... She hadn't even noticed her grade until Orah pointed a firm finger on her parchment.

O, for Outstanding.

You were outstanding too, Professor, she thought, a smile playing about her mouth. Orah had gotten herself an E, for exceeds expectations and looked rather chuffed with herself.

Snape dropped the last paper on Neville's desk who looked broken in disappointment at his grade, then took front and centre of the room.

"There will be no further discussion of your grade amongst your peers," he ordered. "Open your books. You're to write five-hundred words on the properties of Draught of The Dead. You're to then split into pairs and await further instruction."

When it came to the paired work, Geneva and Orah worked together, standing in front of their workbench with a cauldron before them. Orah's conversation was momentarily distracting at times from her Professor, but nothing could come between Geneva and the rush of heat she felt when her Potions Master came up behind her to check the consistency of their work, picking up a small ladle. His cloak unintentionally brushed Geneva's thigh just above her long socks and sent her thoughts sky-rocketing. In a split second, images flashed before her, breathlessly interlinked with her Professor, his cock deep, soothing her burning ache.

"Miss Azur..."

Geneva snapped back to the present with a startle at his voice. "Which part did you add second?"
Snape let the liquid fall back into the cauldron, sending Geneva's mind straight to the gutter. She could barely think, and tongue-tied her words to follow.

"Urrr...it was...it was lavender, sir. I think. Yes. It was lavender."

"Ten points to Slytherin."

And with that, he drifted away to the next table. Geneva already felt the withdrawal of his departure.

She never wanted Potions to end, and contemplated a reason, anything she could come up with to stay behind with her Professor. She racked her brains in the few minutes that they had left, whilst everyone tidied their workspaces, but Orah's constant talk about Billy broke her thinking process.

"So I'm thinking I'm going to say yes. I really really like him, and it's only New Years. It's not like it's Christmas. What do you think?"

Geneva put the last few phials aside to dry and placed the last book in her bag, her mind on only one thing.

"Geneva?"

"What? Oh, sorry. Yes, it sounds good. You should go with him."

"Class dismissed," Professor Snape announced. The words had come far too soon.

Quick, she thought. Anything. Students started filing out of the class. Geneva's instinctive need to be near him, caused her to slow down gathering the contents of her bag.

"Orah, you go ahead, I need to ask Professor Snape something."

"What about?"

"Oh it's just a book. I've lost one of my books."

"That's ok, we can pick it up in Hogsmeade next week."

"No, I need it. I need it now," she responded with urgency. "I know he has copies."

"Ok, well...I'll catch you later then."

It felt like a lifetime waiting for the last person to file out of the class, and then, at last, Geneva was alone with him. He was organizing a pile of books neatly back into their place, knowing she was there. He had already glanced in her direction, and made that clear. Geneva waited for him silently, clutching the strap of the bag on her shoulders, positive that her palpitating heart could be heard, banging in her chest.

"Professor...Sorry, do you...urr"

She had absolutely no idea what she was doing.

His brows rose impatiently. "Yes?"

"Oh it's just a book. I was wondering if you had a copy of the text book you could lend me. The one we used today. I think I misplaced my copy."

He turned around and reached for a shelf. Geneva rolled her eyes at her hopeless attempt, though unsure what she was intending in the first place. He retrieved the book and walked over to her, placing in her hand with no expression.

"Find it. These books are expensive."

"Yes sir," she insisted, knowing very well her copy was back in her dormitory.

Say something. Bloody say something!

"Kindly leave. I have work to do."

"But Professor..."

"I will not say it again."