A Potion For Everything (Severus Snape x Oc)

Class

"Do you have a habbit of finding yourself kneeling infront of powerful Wizards."

If he was joking, if she was herself. Unmedicated, she would have said something absolutly witty that would probably get her in serious trouble. But he wasn't joking. He sounded incredibly annoyed.

She looked up to see Severus sitting at a long wooden desk. A copy of the Daily Prophet in hand. He was leaning in his chair. Not looking at her. The slim windows behind him allowing enough warm light to stream in to aid his morning reading.

She stood. And looked around. This was a classroom she wasn't used too. She didn't remember this one from her time here. The walls were covered in shelves. And the shelves were flooded with jars upon jars of ingredients. She walked the walls. Her selder fingers trailing the labels. Flax seed, eye of newt, batwing, wolfsbane. All fairly basic ingredients.

"In twenty five minutes, our first batch of first years will arive. We have them Mondays and Thursdays. Along with second to fourth years. This room is specifically equipt to handle... Young minds. Put that down. If you please."

She set down the jar of Dandelion fluff and looked towards her husband. Then towards the small desks. It made sense now. They were rather small. And being a fifth year she wouldn't have needed to see these rooms.

"And, my roll in this..." She wasn't sure what to call him. If this was a normal relationship, she had her preferences. Around the faculty, she would call him My Darling. Casual but, possessive. around the castle. She would call him Love. Just to make the older students uncomfortable. At meals.. if they ever ate together. She would call him sweetling. Behind closed doors... Master. And finally. In front of students during class. She would call him Sir. To... Make him want nothing more than for the period to end.

But this wasn't a normal relationship. And her, ideas, wouldn't be welcomed.

"You will address me as Professor and Professor only. Just like the students. In every situation. From here in the classroom. To in private. " She heard the paper fold and be placed on the desk. She heard him get up and approach. "And I will do the same..." She turned to see her husband standing over her. "Professor." He drawled out.

She looked up. And swallowed. She hated this close proximity. And he knew that. He was testing her. To see if she was the quiet, well behaved witch from when she came to the school. Or if she would be... Outspoken. Loose. Like this morning.

"What is my roll in, your, classroom." She looked down. Placing her hands together infront of her. Play the submissive wife. The quiet teacher. It was the best way to go about this. "Professor." She finished her question.

She wouldn't have seen it. But he smirked. He didn't understand her. But she seemed to know her place. A place that would make things easier for him.

He outstretched his hand. A pair of monocle glasses, her glasses, were in them. She looked up and him. And stepped forward. Getting even closer. Reaching out slowly and taking the glasses. Placing them on her face. She began to mutter a "thank y.." when he made a sudden movement. Grabbing her jaw. And making her look towards him.

He was no longer amused. In fact there was.. hurt. In his eyes. They staired at eachother he tightened his grip. In haling. It was hard to pick it out around the room full of ingredients. But he smelled it. In her hair.

"Lily.." he murmered. And let her go. Storming off to his desk. Turning his back to her and holding on to the wood for dear life. It was hard to breath. He could easily have snapped her neck. Without use of magic. She was so frail. Like a bird. A wounded bird and he had no patience to care for her. Expecially after this offence.