The Gifted Curse

Chapter 12 - Enigma

Classes continued as usual throughout the week, and even though assessments were done and dusted, the homework piled in and teachers had began to engrain into their minds, that their N.E.W.T exams would be soon be upon them.

"Not much pressure then," Orah exhaled, as they sat on their four poster dormitory beds, heads buried in homework with an array of Honeydukes sweets in front of them. Geneva was working on her written Potions piece for Professor Snape, determined to make it read well and to include all of her notes in depth. She must have reread the same line six times, as Orah kept asking questions about the Arithmancy homework she was working on, between chit chat about Billy.

Geneva took another Bertie Botts Every Flavour Bean from the small box in front of her, still left over from their Hogsmeade trip that she'd kept in her draw.

"Why don't you just work on your Potions too?" Geneva suggested. "Then at least we're on the same subject. I'll help you with the rest of Arithmancy later" She popped the bean into her mouth, but as she bit through it's sugared coating, a foul taste made her recoil in disgust. Orah found it highly amusing. "What did you get this time?" she laughed with a mouth full of liquorice whip.

"Ear wax!" Geneva shuddered, spitting it into her hand. "That was horrific!"

Although it likely appeared to Orah that Geneva was concentrating hard in bursts - between excessive sugar consumption - reading the books laid out in front of her, her mind, as often, went back to Professor Snape. Unanswered questions bothered her, the interruption from Filch. Why did that sweaty staggering grease ball have to come in! She felt angry toward him for ruining the moment she had craved the entire holidays. An idea came to her, a risky one, but the risk only increased her need to further her train of thought. She had to see him. Tonight.

After dinner that night - for which Professor Snape was present and the two of them made eye contact - Geneva decided to first head back to her dormitory to fetch the perfect excuse to go and see him - the books he'd thrust into her hands when Filch appeared. Clutching the hardback pile, she made her way down the corridor, past the Slytherin common room, and to the large oak door of Snape's classroom. She strategically balanced the books on her knee so she could open the brass handle, and disappeared inside. Taking the spiral steps, she peered carefully over the top of the pile, as not to fall, relieved that the door had opened, knowing he must be inside. Geneva spotted him the second her foot touched the last few steps. His head was down, busy in his work at his desk, it was only his eyes that rose as his quill stopped moving momentarily as she approached him. A candle flickered next to him in a glass jar, causing his black pupils to glitter inquiringly.

Unable to gage him, Geneva spoke with caution in her voice, but a desperate flutter in her belly.

"Professor, I hope you don't mind, I..."

"How very foolish of you to come here unannounced," he spoke in smooth mono tone. "At this hour."

She reached his desk and placed the heavy books down, trying to find the good in his brash words, knowing it was for her protection.

"I wanted to return the books, sir."

"It could have waited."

Snape eyed them, then resumed his work, calmly dipping his quill nib in ink and putting it back to the parchment.

"Maybe," she said, fumbling with her hands. It felt awkward without the strap of her bag to hold onto, so she took the bottom of her hip length hair instead, tousling it, rubbing it between her fingers. She had purposely worn it down thinking he may see her differently, not the uniformed student that had sat in his class that day. "...but I wanted to see you, Professor. I never got to finish what I was saying before Filch came in."

"Filch should be enough evidence to validate my reason that this needs to stop. No more lingering after class...notes..."

"But it's Filch," she stated. "...and even if it had of been Professor Dumbledore, he wouldn't have expected anything. You were handing me books, sir. It could have been homework," she said matter-of-factly. "I stayed behind after class with Professor Flitwick before the holidays, it doesn't mean there's anything going on between us."

Snape raised a quizzical eyebrow, but never looked up. "Anatomically challenging."

Geneva chuckled in her throat. "Did you just make a joke, Professor?"

Professor Flitwick was of course a tiny half-breed wizard of mixed goblin ancestry, who had to stand on a pile of books to teach.

Geneva was surprised to hear such words from his usually serious demeanour, although, it had been delivered with salacious wit that one could imagine from Snape.

"What Filch saw was nothing out of the ordinary," she tried to assure him. "I'm sure he didn't think anything."

Snape continued writing. "You are young. Don't be so naive to think that was the height of what could become of us meeting here like this."

"I'm not naïve, Professor." Her heart beat was increasing with every word she spoke, determined to sway his mind. "I'm a Slytherin. I know both of us are smart enough to hide it, if we really wanted to."

"You are naive, Azur." He disregarded. "You speak only at surface level."

She took his words like a dagger to the chest, when all she wanted was to go beyond the surface. "How am I supposed to know any different unless you tell me?"

"Some things are better left unspoken." He looked up only to dip his quill in ink and resume his work. "You must focus your mind academically and not on this nonsense."

Geneva swallowed a rising lump in her throat at his choice of words.

"You were the one who started all of this and now it's all just nonsense to you...?"

His eyes looked up in confirmation.

"...Like nothing has happened? I just attended my detention and you...you..." She could feel herself getting upset, her temperature rising. "Professor, I don't think you realise, but I've never felt this way..." Her blue eyes were glazing over.

Snape's brows furrowed as he inhaled, looking down again, making a crossing out to his parchment. "Silly girl. You know nothing about me."

"I'm not a girl, Professor. I'm a young woman. I'm allowed to feel this way."

Snape swallowed a lump in his throat. She saw it.

"I want to...to know more about you...I know there's more than meets the eye, Professor. You're misunderstood, like myself."

He looked up once more, furrowing his brows as though he was offended.

"Do not waste your time trying to understand me. It is none of your concern. Now I must ask you to leave at once."

His words hit a nerve inside her. Here she was, compassionate and honest, laying her heart out in front of him, and he was pushing her away. Again.

"That's what you do isn't it..." she erupted, feeling her body tensing. "...block everything out, bottle it like your potions, let it pickle in your brain whilst on the outside you become bitter and resentful."

Snape rose from his chair and threw himself forward, his hands splayed across the desk, his chair screeching back. Geneva stumbled backward, her hand spasmed in fear, flinging her hair from it.

"How dare you attempt to dissect me."

Her heart raced, but she stood defiantly adamant in her analysis, knowing she had also struck a nerve inside him.

"It's true and you know it."

"Do not pass judgement on which you have no knowledge, foolish, foolish girl."

"I know there is a heart inside you, Professor. Somewhere...and I can't stop thinking about you."

"I can fix that," he said with coldness.

"What do you mean?"

"Give me until the next full moon and you'll be able to drink your feelings away," he scowled.

His stone cold sarcasm, caused Geneva's throat to croak in a cry she'd been holding back desperately.

Snape pursed his lips, and blinked slowly, raising his chin as to confirm everything he had said.

"You are so cold," she shook her head disbelievingly, almost whispering, her heart strings severed. She hated herself for letting him witness her glazed, teary eyes. "Foolish girl..." she mocked his words. "You're right. How could I ever be so foolish to be attracted to someone like you..." She went to turn away, but spun back round. No. He needed to know. "And you may be able to erase feelings, Professor Snape, but you will never be able to replace the fact that you took something special and pure from me that can never be replaced!"

His eyes looked down to his desk, all around it, anywhere but hers. His demeanour changed slightly and she relished in it, wanting him to feel bad for how he'd treated her.

"That's right. And not in the way a girl ever imagines her first time..." she continued, tearfully..."but hurried and empty...You didn't even kiss me."

A tear rolled down her cheek. She couldn't bare his blank, unreadable face any longer, turned around, and without looking back, made her way up the spiral staircase, opened the heavy oak door left his vicinity.