snape and skull

55

An Unusual Potions Class
H

arry was joined by the rest of his quartet of friends from last year's study group, as well as Daphne, Blaise, and Dante. Ron was yawning into his plate of eggs and bangers, Hermione was looking over her schedule and drawing something on it, Draco was absently eating a piece of bacon while discussing Quidditch with Blaise, and Neville was asking Dante about a species of plant that was only grown in America.
H

arry was quiet for a moment, still pondering his dream from last night, when Daphne murmured, "Hey, Snape. Are you excited for the first potions class this term? I heard Professor Snape was going to be teaching more advanced solutions to his better brewers. That true?"
"Uh . . . I think that's what he's planning," Harry hedged, not wanting to upstage his father. "Why? Do you like potions also, Daphne?"
Peridot eyes met his own emerald ones. "I find them fascinating. I've heard you're pretty good yourself, Harry," the Slytherin witch smiled.
"Well, you could say that," Harry admitted, not wanting to brag. "My dad worked with me a lot over the summer on different techniques and solutions, so I'm better now than I was last term."
"Harry, did you finish your essay on the main ingredients in a Fire Protection Draft?" Ron asked sleepily.
Harry smirked. "Yup. Why? You didn't think I was dumb enough to leave it to the last minute, did you? With my dad?"
"Uh, no, I just wanted to know if you could look mine over, you know I usually mix up stuff." The ginger-haired boy admitted. He dug in his bookbag and pulled out a slightly crumpled piece of parchment.
Harry took it and read rapidly through it while he ate his eggs Benedict.
"Well? How is it?" Ron asked.
"Uh . . . you need to fix a few things," Harry told him and then wrote corrections in a green ink in the margins. "Do that and you'll pass."
Ron smiled in relief. "Thanks, mate. Never thought I'd be grateful to have a friend who was a professor's son before." He began to redo his essay while he ate.
Harry shrugged. "Sometimes it does have its advantages."
"Yeah, until you get in trouble," Dante snorted. "Then it's like the wrath of God just fell on you." He resumed eating his huevos rancheros after that comment.
The others all winced, knowing Snape's temper.
Draco glanced at the American wizard's breakfast curiously. "What's that you're eating, Prince?"
"Huevos rancheros," Dante replied. "I ate this back when I lived in Wyoming on the Golden Prince—my father's horse ranch. It's eggs over easy fried in butter and topped with salsa and cheese. I asked Prissy to tell the kitchen elves to make it for me. Though I had to tell them what it was first. Lucky I know the recipe that Sparrow used."
"Who's Sparrow?" asked Hermione.
"Blue Sparrow was my housekeeper and cook." Dante replied. "Also like my foster mother, since mine died when I was a baby, just walking." He dipped a corner of his toast into the egg mixture and ate it.
Draco sniffed. "Smells spicy."
"It is, a bit. That's cause of the chili peppers. Though it's not as spicy as it could be, since I guess you don't have ghost chili peppers over here like we do in the West. But it's still good. Want to try some, Malfoy?"
Draco considered. "All right, Prince."
Dante gestured and a small plate appeared on the table beside him. Then he placed some of the huevos rancheros on it and said, "Here you go."
Draco imitated Dante and dipped some toast into the eggs and ate it. His white blond eyebrows rose then he chewed and swallowed. "Hey, this is actually . . . good! Has a bit of a bite to it, but not too bad."
"Told you," Dante chuckled.
"Maybe I'll try it," Hermione said. "I like Mexican food." She promptly ordered a plate.
"I'll give it a go too," Daphne said, not to be outdone. "I don't mind spicy food."
Soon the girls were enjoying the new breakfast, and Harry decided to try it also, and had Prissy bring another plate, which he shared with Ron, Neville, and Blaise.
"Some time I'll have to introduce you to bunuelos," Dante said, chuckling.
"What's that?" Blaise wanted to know.
"It's a fried doughnut puff sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar. I could eat half a dozen when Sparrow made them for my birthday," Dante recalled wistfully.
"You think the elves could make them?" Ron looked like he was about to start drooling.
"I could make them . . . if I had a cast iron skillet, a stove, and all the ingredients," Dante replied. "They're not that hard."
"You cook?" Harry queried.
"Some things, yeah," his cousin answered. "But I'm not as good as Severus."
"Professor Snape cooks?" Neville nearly fell out of his chair.
Harry laughed. "Yes. Unless I ask to."
"What, you thought we lived off of air?" Dante snorted.
"N-No, but—you have a house elf," Neville said.
"Prissy is free, so she doesn't do everything for us like most house elves," Harry clarified. "We let her clean up on certain days so she feels useful, but Dad has me and Dante do chores around the house every week."
"That sounds like him," Daphne chuckled.
Draco frowned. "That sounds totally odd. House elves are for menial labor."
"Not around my house," Harry shook his head. "But we don't do anything really hard, just normal stuff," he explained, thinking that it was nothing like what he had done at the Dursleys. "Washing up after supper, sweeping the kitchen floor, and keeping our rooms neat."
"He gives us an allowance too," Dante reminded.
"My mum and dad do that too," Ron remarked. "And if we get in trouble, we get our pocket money taken away."
Harry exchanged glances with Dante. "I think Dad and the Weasleys use the same parenting handbook," the younger Snape observed.
"Yeah, sounds like it. He'll take it away if we're smart with him or whatever," Dante sighed, recalling how Severus had done just that to him during the summer.
"Or he makes you clean his lab," Harry added.
"You get detention at home?" Daphne asked.
"Uh, yeah, pretty much," the Gryffindor nodded, only now realizing that much of the way Snape disciplined was similar to his detentions at school.
Just then the clock struck quarter to nine, and it was time to go to class. Harry made his way to the dungeons with the rest of his friends, while Dante left to go to Care of Magical Creatures with Professor Kettleburn.
"See you later," the older boy waved to Harry then turned and made his way out of the castle and down to the grove where Magical Creatures was held. He had that class with the third-year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs.
Harry made his way quickly down the stairs to Dungeon 3, which was where Snape usually held class. This class, which was with the Slytherins, was either anticipated or dreaded, depending on the student. Harry knew that most of his friends were decent brewers, and even Neville and Ron were pretty good as long as they followed the recipe and didn't get nervous or distracted.
He took his usual seat at his desk at the front, because even with his new glasses he sometimes still had difficulty reading script on the board from far away. Hermione and Ron sat on either side of him and the others arranged themselves according to House and friendships.
Professor Snape billowed into the classroom just as the clock struck nine. He eyed the class with an assessing glance, then ordered, "On your feet. You will be brewing a Fire Protection Potion today, as you should have known if you had bothered to read the first chapter of your summer assignment. Put your essays on the properties of Fire Protection Potions on my desk, those will count as your first homework grade of the term."
He waited until each student had handed in their summer essay before saying, "That's enough chattering, pay attention! I shall be assigning you all a partner for your potions practicums this term. This will not be your best friend, in fact your partner will be someone from another House. Some of you will be paired with those better in potions, to improve your less than sterling skills, nevertheless, you should make an effort to work with your partner because your marks depend upon you doing so. Your mark will be based upon the average of both of your grades, so if your partner is failing, then so are you. I expect you all to cooperate and work with each other in a mature fashion, assuming that is possible." He gave some students a look that said he highly doubted that could be done.
"Now, listen! If I have to repeat myself, you will not like the consequences," the professor warned and all the murmuring ceased. "When I call your name and that of your partner, go and stand next to a workstation. Weasley and Zabini. Granger and Bulstrode. Malfoy and Longbottom. Davis and Finnegan. Crabbe and Thomas. Greengrass and Potter-Snape."
Harry blinked and then managed a quiet smile. He was surprised that his father had paired him with Daphne and not Draco, but then supposed it was better that Draco was with Neville, who needed the Slytherin's cool analytical skills. He rose and went over to a workstation, and was soon joined by Daphne.
He noted that the Slytherin girl seemed rather excited and her excitement was infectious. "Looks like things just got more interesting, Greengrass," Harry remarked.
"Call me Daphne," she corrected.
"Okay. Just call me Harry."
"All right. But if you're acting like an idiot to me, you'll be Snape," she informed him cheekily.
Harry smirked. "I'll try not to." Then he shifted his attention to his professor father, knowing full well how much Snape disliked students who didn't pay attention in class.
Snape pointed at the board, where Harry saw the directions for the Fire Protection Potion written in Severus' graceful cursive. "Turn to page 15," the professor directed. "The recipe you need is in there. But pay attention to the alterations upon the board. Or else you may end up botching your potion."
Harry pulled out his potions text and bookmarked the correct page with a finger while Severus spoke about the proper way to slice the bursting mushrooms. "You need to get the slices thin, slice too thickly and you won't get the required amount of juice and they will not dissolve properly in the solution. Who can tell me what kind of knife you need to use?"
Harry and Daphne both raised their hands.
"Miss Greengrass, go ahead."
"You need a triple sharp slightly curved athame, sir," she replied confidently.
"Correct. Five points to Slytherin. Who can tell me how to correctly harvest bursting mushrooms?"
This time he called upon Harry.
"With thin dragonhide gloves, sir, and cut the stem with a sickle dagger and catch it gently in a bowl lined with wool fluff."
"Correct. Five points to Gryffindor. Why do you need wool fluff, Mr. Potter-Snape?"
"Because if the mushroom hits a hard surface it will burst and your ingredient will be ruined," Harry replied.
"Very true. Remember that," Snape reminded. "You are only allowed five mushrooms, the potion requires three, so watch how you handle them."
Neville put his hand up. "Sir, if the mushroom bursts when you hit it, how can we cut it so it doesn't explode?"
"An excellent question, Longbottom. Does anyone know the answer?" Snape looked about the room. "How about you, Miss Granger?"
"Sir, you need to cut the mushroom on a slant, with a very sharp knife, so it keeps most of the juice inside the slice," Hermione replied.
"Correct. And slice it slowly," Snape added. "That is the most difficult part of the preparation. Lastly, you all need to learn this abbreviated spell to activate your potion."
He demonstrated with his wand in a brief twirling pattern above a cauldron. "If you have brewed it correctly, your potion should be a deep crimson with icy tendrils of smoke. Gather your ingredients and begin. You have two hours."
Harry glanced at Daphne. "You want to get the ingredients or should I?"
"I will. You start measuring out the water and start the fire," Daphne answered.
"Okay. Oh, and get a frost phoenix feather too from the container on the left side of the cabinet," Harry instructed.
"Why? That's not on the ingredient list."
"Trust me. It's something my dad taught me," Harry reassured her.
"Have you brewed this before?" Daphne queried, her peridot eyes sparkling.
"Once, with my dad supervising," Harry answered.
"All right. Don't forget to use a medium flame."
Harry did as he had been told, then rechecked his recipe. He carefully got out his potions kit and set up all the apparatus he would need before he pulled on his gloves. Severus had stressed getting everything ready before he ever began to prep, this way he didn't waste time hunting for a knife or his scales or his pestle.
Daphne returned with the mushrooms, Wartcap powder, and vial of salamander blood, plus the feather from a frost phoenix, which was an addition that Snape had taught to Harry over the summer, saying it added potency to the draft.
Daphne got out her kit also and then asked, "You want to do the honors with the mushrooms, Harry?"
"Sure," Harry agreed. He carefully took the mushrooms over to his side of the table and selected his sharpest athame. Then he began to slowly cut the mushrooms into slices, being careful to catch most of the juice in a bowl.
Meanwhile, Daphne ground the Wartcap powder to a dusky crimson.
Harry added the mushrooms and juice to the cauldron then stirred clockwise until the potion began to turn blue.
Daphne peered at it. "Looking good!"
Harry nodded. "Yup. Now for a cup and a half of salamander blood."
He carefully measured it and then added it to the cauldron.
"Now stir anti-clockwise ten times," Daphne said, and then inserted her stirrer and did so.
Harry was pleased to see the potion turn green and emit a kind of minty scent.
They waited five minutes before adding the Wartcap powder and stirred until their potion was blood red.
"Now we add the feather," Harry recalled and then he tossed in the ice phoenix feather.
The potion took on a kind of iridescent hue and icy smoke began to spiral upwards.
Harry took out his pocket watch and looked at it. "We have half an hour left."
"I think we're finished, except for the spell," said Daphne.
Harry performed the maneuver easily and then Daphne bottled the samples. While she was doing that, he took a glance around to see how his friends were doing.
To his relief he saw that they were all at the end stage of the brewing process, even Longbottom and Malfoy. Humming happily, Harry began to return the unused ingredients to the cabinet and clean up the workstation. By the time he was finished with that, time was up.
"Solutions on my desk," ordered the professor.
Harry carried the vials up and placed them on the green mat on Snape's desk. He turned to see his father vanishing a student's incorrectly brewed solution. "Too much salamander blood, Mr. Goyle and Miss Patil. This will be a zero."
"Glad that's not us," Daphne murmured. "How do you think we did?"
"Okay." Harry muttered, just as Snape came to inspect the remainder of their potion in their cauldron.
"Greengrass and Potter-Snape, let's see if you managed to follow directions." Severus said softly. He had high hopes for this pairing, both were among his best second-year potioneers, and he thought they would compliment each other well.
He examined the potion briefly, gave it a token stir and then nodded. "Well done. This is what a correctly brewed solution should look like."
Harry and Daphne looked like they had been awarded the Order of Merlin.
"This is usable as a sample for my other second-years," Snape told them, a pleased gleam in his eye. He waved his wand and a vial was filled and labeled neatly. He also noted the tell-tale iridescent film atop the potion once bottled and said to Harry, "I see you remembered our discussion on the property of ice phoenix feathers as a potency enhancer, Mr. Potter-Snape. Ten points to Gryffindor."
"Thank you, sir." Harry smiled.
"No thanks are necessary. Continue as you have been and you may earn yourself top marks," Severus praised. The side of his mouth quirked in a crooked smile that only Harry and Daphne could see.
Then Professor Snape spun about and went to check on another pair's solution.
Harry gave Daphne a high five. Just then his stomach grumbled loudly, reminding him he had not eaten since breakfast. He blushed as Daphne giggled. "Sorry. I . . . uh, usually need a snack around now."
"Here," the girl withdrew a dried fruit honey nut bar from her bookbag. "I carry some of these with me in case I get hungry between classes. My mum made them for me."
Harry took it and unwrapped it. It smelled divine. "Thanks, Daphne."
"Anytime, Harry." She packed up her bag. "I'll see you at lunch. Gotta run, I have Flying Class."
Harry nibbled the bar while he finished packing his own bookbag. He had Charms next with the Ravenclaws. He thought about inviting Daphne and Blaise to the study group in Snape's quarters and resolved to ask them at lunch.
"Better hurry, Harry," his father's silky voice urged. "You wouldn't want Professor Flitwick to take points for being late and lose the ones you just gained from me."
Harry looked about, then grinned, seeing they were alone. "Okay, Dad. I'm going."
"Remember, you still have detention with me at 7," Severus reminded.
"Like I'd forget," his son coughed. "You'd come and drag me away by my ear if I did."
"Too right, boy, so save your ear and remember," the professor smirked. "Now get!" He swatted the boy lightly on the bottom to get him moving.
Harry walked quickly down the corridor and up the stairs, though when he was out of sight, he broke into a sprint and caught up to his classmates just outside the Charms classroom.
The Great Hall
That evening:
Lockhart was droning on and on about some kind of mirror that showed a vampire's reflection, though all the professors were ignoring him as best they could. Minerva nudged Snape's knee under the table and muttered, "Does that man ever shut his mouth?"
"Not when he's around people," Severus said snidely. "He's worse than a parrot—he loves to hear himself speak about nothing. Maybe you ought to borrow a pair of Pomona's earmuffs at breakfast tomorrow? I hear they work wonders for silencing mandrakes and brainless fops that babble nonstop."
The Transfiguration professor snickered into her napkin. "Oh, Severus! Maybe I will. It might save my hearing. I was considering transfiguring my ears into wooden blocks."
"I can hardly blame you, Professor," sighed Lena. "The man could drive a saint to blasphemy."
"I think he's driven Aurora into a coma," Snape remarked wickedly, indicating the Astronomy professor, who had the bad luck to be seated next to the glamor boy that night. He knew that the younger professors flipped coins to see which one got the unlucky position next to Lockhart that dinner. Lockhart, the imbecile, thought his seatmate changed every night because he was wildly popular. Severus, as a senior staff member and a Head, had the privilege of always sitting in the same chair at mealtimes, and he was always next to Minerva and Lena. He thanked Merlin for that because if he had to sit by Lockhart, he would have hexed the other man's tongue out a week ago.
"I really dinna known what Albus was thinking, to hire him," Minerva groused.
"That his reputation preceded him," snorted the Potions Master. "But that's all the dandy has to recommend him. And if he has done half of what he says he has, I'll sing Kumbyaa in front of the whole school."
Lena giggled behind her hand. "While I wouldn't mind hearing you, Sev, I doubt he's done one thing he claims. He has that vibe about him."
"What vibe, dear?" Irma queried.
"The vibe of a first-rate conman, Aunt Irma. And the worst sort of them—the kind who believes his own lies," answered the library witch.
"I quite agree," said the head librarian. "I remember when he was a student here—he spent more time fixing his hair in front a mirror than he did studying and when he did come into the library to study, he had other students do his research for him while he sat back and planned the next party he was attending."
"Figures," Severus rolled his eyes.
The talk shifted then to which of the House teams showed promise at Quidditch and Minerva made Severus a five Galleon bet that Gryffindor would be in the running for the Quidditch Cup this year.
Down at the Gryffindor table, Harry had elected to eat with his Housemates and Dante had joined him, as per his agreement with Severus. The two boys ate heartily of the roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, carrots and peas, and roasted potatoes.
As he ate, Harry told Dante about his potions class, and his new potions partner, Daphne Greengrass.
"Good for you, cuz," Dante grinned. "I haven't had class with Severus yet, but I doubt I'll be lucky enough to get a babe like Daphne." The older boy teased.
"Dante, it's not like that!" Harry stammered, blushing.
"Sure, kid. Whatever you say," his older cousin smirked, his hazel eyes twinkling mischievously.
Harry threw his napkin at the other wizard.
"Ooh! Does baby Snape have a crush?" sneered Craven, having caught the tail end of the conversation.
"Mind your own business!" Harry shot back.
"Better watch it, cause if the old bat catches you sparking Greengrass during a lab he'll force feed you a celibacy elixir and hex your lips shut, Snapey!" Craven snickered. "Snogging's against Snape's Rules of Conduct, don'tcha know?" He wagged his finger at Harry. "Cause the only thing you're allowed to kiss is your daddy's arse!"
"Why you—!" Harry was on his feet, his green eyes blazing with temper.
"Harry," hissed Dante. "Sit down, kid. He's baiting you."
"I don't care!" snarled the younger boy. "I'm gonna knock his teeth down his throat."
"Not here, not now," Dante shook his head. "This isn't the time or the place."
He jerked his head towards the staff table, where they could see Professor Snape eyeing the Gryffindor table.
"You want to get your ass handed to you?" his cousin muttered.
Harry gritted his teeth. "No. But—"
"Cause that's what will happen if you let Crybaby Craven goad you into a fight," warned the older wizard. He gently pushed Harry back into his seat.
"Lost your nerve, baby Snape?" Craven mocked. "You scared dear old dad will expel you if you get in trouble again?"
"Hey, Craven," Dante spoke up then, his hazel eyes glinting with a kind of sneaky delight. "If I were you, I'd watch what I said. You never know who's listening."
"Like I give a bloody damn, Prince!" growled the older boy. "You think you're all that because you've got the greasy git as a relation? I'm not scared of the dungeon bat!" Craven boasted. "The only thing Snape knows his way around is a cauldron!"
"Craven!" squeaked Colin Creevy, his eyes wide.
But Craven ignored the firstie, continuing his rant. "I have relatives in high places you know. And if I wanted to, I could go tell Snape to kiss my—"
"Tell me what, Mr. Craven?" Severus growled from behind him.
Craven nearly passed out cold. "P-Professor S-Snape!?"
"Care to finish your comment, you insolent brat?!" Severus snarled, his obsidian eyes boring into the other's terrified blue ones.
"I- I- . . .."
"What, nothing to say?" sneered the potions professor.
But Craven seemed to have forgotten the words to the English language. All he could manage was an inelegant, "Eeep!"
Snape crossed his arms over his chest, giving the trembling Gryffindor a look that could have stripped the hide off a dragon. "Kneazle got your tongue, boy? Or did you lose what little brains you were born with?" He made a dismissive gesture. "You must be related to Lockhart, both of you have foot-in-mouth disease."
Craven was shaking now, his mouth working, but no sound was emerging.
Dante and Harry were smirking uncontrollably into their hands while the rest of the Gryffindor table watched in horrified fascination, like bystanders viewing a train wreck, unable to look away.
The professor's eyes narrowed, like a falcon that had seen his quarry. "Thirty points from Gryffindor and a week's worth of detention scrubbing every bathroom in this castle and extracting the tongues of horned toads should teach you the value of holding your own!"
Craven swallowed, looking positively green. He shrank away from Snape as if the tall professor were Death come to claim him.
"Well?" Snape demanded, his tone so cold it was a miracle frost did not form upon the table. "Answer me!"
"Y-yes, sir . . .!" Craven whimpered.
"Now—get out of my sight before I forget that a professor shouldn't hex a student. Go!"
Craven bolted up from his seat so fast he nearly overturned the bench, running out of the hall as if all the devils of hell were nipping at his heels.
Severus swept the table with a sharp glare then said, "The show's over. Finish your supper."
He stalked silently back to the staff table, his cloak billowing behind him like the wings of an avenging angel, missing the grins of approval and the smattering of applause the other Gryffindors gave their potions professor.
Behind him he caught Dante's quiet, "Way to go! You sure kicked his wimpy ass, Severus!"
Severus concealed a grin of satisfaction as he sat back down.
Minerva eyed her colleague questioningly. "Severus, what did Craven do now?"
"Provoked my son and my ward by spewing vile insults about them and me, though I admit I only caught the last few sentences," Severus told her. "I gave him a week's worth of detention for it and took thirty points."
"Looked like you put the fear of God into the boy too," murmured Professor Vector approvingly.
"Severus does that on a daily basis," chuckled the Headmaster.
"Which was just what that brat Craven needed," huffed Minerva. "Along with a session with a bar of soap had I the raising of him."
"I quite agree," the potions professor snorted.
Irma huffed. "His parents should have disciplined him properly, the hooligan, then he wouldn't be so quick to disrespect his professor!"
Lena nodded. "If I had done that to any of my teachers, my papa would have taken me over his knee in a flash."
The other staff members nodded in agreement, all except Lockhart, who was still expounding on his mirror discovery to a sleeping Sinistra.
Flitwick coughed and whispered to Severus, "Is there a potion that makes someone stop talking, Severus? Because if so maybe you could . . .er . . . slip it in Lockhart's drink tomorrow?"
Severus obsidian eyes gleamed. "Why yes, there is! It's a Laryngitis Elixir. Utterly tasteless when mixed with any liquid."
"Please use it!" begged Pomona.
"While I normally would frown on such a thing . . ." Dumbledore began, and everyone at the table shot him death glares, save for Lockhart and Sinistra. " . . .I think this time it would be a mercy for all."
"Very well. I shall brew it tonight and it will be ready for tomorrow morning," the Potions Master smirked. Finally, Albus, you are beginning to make sense! Of course, a better solution would be to just dismiss the fraud, but I know you'll never go that route just to save the rest of your staff's sanity.
By the time dessert was served, Lockhart had received a letter from a fan and was kept busy—and quiet—answering it, much to the relief of his colleagues.
Severus sipped his coffee and ate strawberry chocolate trifle, recalling that his walk with Lena was scheduled after dinner. Oddly enough, he found that the sudden nerves he had acquired earlier had vanished.
He waited until the students and most of his colleagues had exited the hall, before he stood and offered his arm to the library witch. "Shall we, Lena?"
"Absolutely, Sev," the blonde assured him, taking his arm and giving him a quiet smile that made his heart race.
He escorted her from the hall, walking at a stately pace, through the double doors and out into the courtyard.
The sun was just setting, and the sky was a brilliant panorama of colors, like an artist's palette splattered across the heavens. Severus led the library witch down the cobblestone path between Hagrid's garden and the guardian willow, a gently meandering way towards the lake. As dusk gathered, the wind blew through the trees, ruffling the leaves of the trees and tugging playfully at their hair and cloaks.
Lena chuckled and reached up to brush a wayward strand of hair from her eyes and just as she did so, Severus did as well, and their fingers brushed.
There was a sudden spark between them, then it was gone an instant later, but the two stared wide-eyed at the other for a moment. "Oh!" she exclaimed softly. "Did you feel—?"
Severus slowly nodded. "That hasn't happened to me since . . ." he trailed off thinking Since Lily and I walked here back when we were fifteen and innocent.
" . . . since your first date?" Lena guessed, her aqua eyes full of curiosity.
"Um . . . you could say that," Severus murmured.
"It's the same for me," she admitted shyly. "The few dates I've had never lasted much beyond the introductory stage once the man learned what I was."
"That you were a mind magus?" Severus clarified.
Lena nodded. "People fear the different."
"That's because most people are fools," Severus remarked caustically. He continued walking down the path. "However, I am neither."
"I know. You don't frighten easily, do you? If at all."
He gave her a crooked smile. "Everyone has something they fear. I am no different, though I learned long ago to master it. But you are the last thing I would ever be afraid of, Lena."
He took her hand and gently tucked it in the crook of his arm and they continued strolling down the path until they reached the lakeshore.
His words made her heart give an odd little quiver, and she hoped that meant she had finally found one who would see her as she truly was, not just the mind witch, and who liked what he saw. "That means a lot to hear you say that," she said sincerely, resting her hand lightly on his frock coat. She could feel his muscles ripple beneath her fingers, and could tell that he was stronger than one might think. Stirring and grinding for hours as well as hauling cauldrons about developed muscles in your chest and shoulders and upper arms, for all that potions was often considered a career for brainboxes.
"Really?" he was astonished. "It's simple truth." He seemed embarrassed that she would value his opinion so highly.
By then they had begun to walk along the lakeshore, and had a magnificent view of the sun sinking below the horizon, the last rays reflecting off the water in a brilliant kaleidoscope of colors. Severus halted to admire it, and Lena sighed wistfully.
"I wish I had a camera."
"Here," He Summoned his own with a wandless gesture and handed it to her.
She grinned and snapped two pictures of the sunset over the lake, her aqua eyes sparkling in delight.
He smiled appreciatively at the sight, thinking that once she was away from crowds, the shy library witch emerged from her cocoon like a newly hatched sapphire-winged butterfly, full of wonder and surprise.
Suddenly, Lena turned and pointed the camera at him. Before he could protest, she snapped his picture. "Gotcha, Sev!"
"Lena, you sneaky imp!" he mock-scolded.
"What's wrong, Sev? Surely you aren't . . . afraid of having your picture taken?" she teased.
"Not afraid . . . just . . .I don't look well in photographs . . ." he admitted. "I always come out too pale, like a vampire . . ."
"That's because you didn't have the right person taking one," she remarked.
"Don't tell me. You're an amateur photographer," he sighed.
"It's a hobby of mine," she laughed. She pressed a button and the photo emerged from a slot in the back of the camera. Unlike a Muggle device, an InstaMagic camera developed photos magically, and then printed them upon request. "Look." She showed him all the photos she had taken. "See? You don't look anything like Dracula."
He took the picture of himself and eyed it the way he might have an experimental potion, warily for any flaws. But he soon discovered that Lena was right, and the photo did not make him look like the vampire of the dungeons. Lena had used the sun at his back to add warmth to his pale features and sunlight sparkled off his dark hair, giving it a soft sheen and bluish highlights. She had also caught his impromptu smile, which softened his normally severe features.
"Well, Severus?" She arched an eyebrow at him.
"This . . . is quite good," he admitted. "I actually like this photo."
She tapped the button again and printed another one for herself. "Great! Thanks for letting me take them."
He took the camera from her and waited until she was partially turned towards the lake, watching the giant squid waving with his tentacle, before he sneakily snapped her picture.
"Severus!" she gasped.
"Fair's fair, my Lady Rook," he smirked, calling her by the name Skull had coined for her.
"I look a sight, as my mother would say!" Lena protested, trying to shove tendrils of her wayward hair back into her tie.
"Yes—a lovely sight," he murmured, and showed her the picture.
She stared at the photo, startled to find that she looked almost pretty with the sunlight highlighting her hair and bringing out the pure blue of her aqua eyes. "You're quite the photographer yourself, Sev."
"Once I was. A long time ago, when I was still young and innocent," he murmured. He had taken over half the pictures he had placed in the album he gave to Harry of Lily.
"When you loved another," she murmured softly, half to herself. An instant later she put a hand to her mouth. "Forgive me, I didn't mean to bring that up—"
"How did you know?" he queried, his tone sharper than he meant it to be.
"When we were both injured from the revenant . . . I woke before you . . . and you were having a nightmare . . . you talked in your sleep, and you begged her to forgive you and you said loved her . . . I don't know who she was, only that she must have been someone special . . . I'm sorry, I never meant to pry . . ."
She waited for the lash of his tongue, for him to turn away, ending this budding attraction before it had truly begun.
Severus sighed softly. "She was special . . . but she's gone now. It was a lifetime ago, Lena. And it was never meant to be," he shook his head. "I have spent too many years regretting what might have been. It's time I let the past go. The person I was then . . . I am no longer. I shall honor her memory, but the past is prologue."
Lena let out her breath in a whoosh. "You forgive me then?"
"You've done nothing that needed forgiveness," he replied.
"Truly?"
"Truly," he reassured, knowing in that moment that he was finally ready to let go of the specter of Lily. She had forgiven him for his choices as a foolish young boy, and he had atoned for the worst mistake of his life. She had given him her blessing and her son to raise, and now it was time to let her go. His future was before him now, as both father and professor, and if the Fates were kind, perhaps a second chance at finding a woman who loved him the way he had once loved Lily.
He reached out a hand, and clasped Lena's smaller one, their fingers entwining. Together they looked out at the lake, identical expressions of admiration and a kind of serenity upon their faces as they watched the sunset. The water lapped against the shore and the wind ruffled the grass, crickets chirped the first melody in a nighttime chorus, the music of the night enfolding the two in a soothing embrace.
They remained that way for long moments, content to simply be by each other. Until the first stars of evening appeared in the sky, and Severus checked his watch. "Merlin! It's nearly seven."
Lena blinked, coming out of her reverie. "Is there a problem, Severus?"
"Not with you. I have detention in ten minutes." He sounded annoyed.
Lena's mouth twitched. "With that little hooligan from dinner?"
"No, with Harry, Dante, and Ronald," Severus corrected.
"The Three Musketeers," Lena quipped.
"The Three Troublemakers is more like it," snorted the Potions Master.
"Then let's head back to the castle," Lena said reluctantly. "It wouldn't do for you to be late for your own detention, professor."
Severus just rolled his eyes. Then he began walking back up the path, Lena trotting slightly to keep up with his long strides. He slowed when he heard her panting. "Sorry, am I walking too fast?"
"Not too fast, just your legs are longer than mine," the library witch huffed. "I used to wish that I'd suddenly grow a foot over the summer when I was in school. I even considered taking a Growth Elixir one time. But then I was too chicken after I read about all the things that could go wrong."
"Not chicken, smart," Severus corrected. "Growth Elixirs can be dangerous if taken incorrectly and the effects are notoriously hard to reverse. You could have ended up the size of Hagrid."
"My mother would have died of shock," Lena chuckled. She walked faster. "Luckily, my logical Ravenclaw side prevailed."
"For which I am quite grateful," Severus remarked, his mouth twitching.
They had reached the courtyard, and Severus paused so they could catch their breath. Or rather so Lena could catch her breath, he amended. "Are you all right?"
"Fine. Just a bit out of shape. I need to get out from behind my circulation desk," she said ruefully. "Would you need help grading homework in the near future?"
"Are you volunteering, Rosario?" he queried.
"Would I have asked otherwise, Snape?" she shot back.
"Touche', Lena." The obsidian eyes glinted in amusement. "Come by my office this Thursday. I'll have coffee and shortbread for you and my extra red quill."
"I'll be there with bells on, Professor," she said sassily. "Good night, Sev."
"Good night, Lena." He released her hand, bowing over it, the way a pureblood wizard did to a lady.
Lena hurried inside, followed a moment later by Severus, who nearly ran into all three boys in the Entrance Hall.
"What are you three doing here?" the professor demanded.
"Looking for you," Dante replied. "We were gonna wait in your office till Prissy told us you went out walking after dinner."
"So we decided to meet you here," Harry said.
"Very well," his father said, tucking the camera into a robe pocket. "Let's proceed to my office then. I believe you have two cars left to clean . . ."
The three followed at his heels like ducklings, whispering among themselves about the fact that Lena had entered the castle scant minutes before Severus, and what it might mean.
Ron nudged Harry in the ribs. "Do you think your dad is . . . er . . .seeing Lena?"
Harry shrugged. "Uh . . .I dunno . . .do they still date at Dad's age?"
Dante nearly asphyxiated. "Hells bells, Harry! Severus isn't dead yet! I'll bet you a Galleon that they were sparking on that walk."
Ron's eyes bugged out. "Seriously?"
Dante rolled his eyes. "Duh, Ron! Get a clue!"
"Boys! Quit dawdling and get in here!" Snape called sharply from the office, making the three jump and hurry inside, temporarily abandoning the discussion of whether or not Severus was dating Lena.