Shadows || A Severus Snape Fanfiction

Chapter 31 - Interrogation

"Where do you live?" Asha asked suddenly. "In the castle, I mean," she added in response to Snape's look of utter confusion, "where do you live?"

"I may as well be living in my office given the amount of time I spend in there," Severus muttered. He took this curve ball question as a cue that it was time for Asha to leave.

Snape returned to his position of sitting against the edge of his desk and waved his hand. The classroom door swung open. "Off you go then," he drawled, "before anyone thinks I've berated you to an early grave." But Asha wasn't done with him yet.

"Oh, I don't think so," she said lightly. She faced her palm to the door, causing it to swing shut and walked towards Snape. Stopping about a meter away from him, she sat back against a front-row desk and placed her hands either side of her hips, drumming her figures against the desk edge. The creases on Snape's face deepened. He deftly slid out his wand and aimed it over Asha's shoulder. There was a heavy click as the door locked.

"I've got some questions for you," said Asha boldly.

"I thought you might," muttered Snape. He took his time slipping his wand back into the inside pocket of his coat, before folding his arms and assuming a cool expression.

"Number one," said Asha, "why were you so eager to hear what Winky was wailing about last night?"

"Who is Winky?" Snape answered stone-faced. Asha took a slow breath.

"Going to play it that way are you?" she said quietly, "...I expected as much."

Snape didn't react.

"Fine. Try this one," she continued, undeterred. "What is Barty Crouch's house-elf, the elf who was found in possession of the wand responsible for casting the Dark Mark at the Quidditch World Cup, doing in the Hogwarts kitchens?"

"It's none of my concern who the headmaster decides to employ," drawled Snape, and Asha could swear a little anger was slipping into his dry tone. She was also becoming angry. She hadn't expected him to so outrageously deny the obvious. She thought he would at least offer her something.

"Cut the shit," she ordered in a voice that sliced through the air, "there's a reason you were so interested to hear what that elf had to say and there was a reason you didn't want me overhearing." Asha had stopped drumming her fingers and was now firmly gripping the edge of the desk. She leaned towards Snape and drilled his eyes with hers. "Why won't you tell me what this is about?"

"Because it's not something you need to worry about!" he snapped. "You have things of far greater importance on your plate. This little situation is irrelevant to you. It is none of your business."

"It's none of my business?" repeated Asha dangerously quietly. Understanding, followed by exasperation flickered in Snape's eyes.

"Winters, don't-"

Asha straightened to her full height and took a step toward Snape. He remained sitting back against the desk, meaning the pair were now at eye level, faces only a couple of feet apart.

"I want to know who the filthy scum bag was who cast that Dark Mark," she stated fiercely.

"Listen to me," said Snape in a voice that would've made first years shit themselves, "you don't want to get into this. If we knew who cast the Mark they would be in Azkaban. Stop looking for trouble... In that respect you are just like Potter." His last sentence was nothing more than a near-silent mutter but Asha caught it.

"Potter?" she repeated, vexed that she was being compared to a fourteen-year-old boy whom Snape was rather unfond of.

"Yes. Potter," he growled. Asha glared at him.