The Potions Master's Countdown to Christmas
December 1st continued…
Professor Snape sat in his chair enjoying the warmth from the fire. It was with relief that he thought of the presents that were now unwrapped that he was bewitching with his wand to fly into new appropriate places in his office that he deemed so. His work was done. Vector's was not. She was still writing down the names from the tags so he could keep a record of which students, families, co-workers, acquaintances, etc. had sent him something. Tedious work but, well, Vector was helping him after all.
The month of December, for him, was twenty-five days of sheer torture. Actually, the torture stretched out until around the day after New Year's. January 2nd seemed quite a long way off. At least he sometimes escaped for New Year's if there was something going on. That depended on the year, the people involved, and what he was doing for the people he "worked" for, namely Dumbledore and the Dark Lord. For double agents could not "call out" if there was work to be done. Even on holidays.
His thoughts that had been roaming broke, and he once again focused on the present and the woman in his office. The woman in his office…His former mentoring subject that he secretly was growing to adore, but couldn't tell. It made his holiday season worse. But then he pushed the thought from his mind as he watched her, very closely. He had a smaller secretary-style desk in his office that she used when she came to help him with something. It was old, Merlin knew how old, because he had had Filch go to the Room of Requirement to find one and this is what he and that cat had dragged back. Snape refused to refer to that flea-infested ball of dust as Mrs. Norris. It was most unsettling to him.
Poor Filch…alone for far too long.
As was he…his whole life really…until he had met Lily. He closed his eyes for a moment, hoping that Vector hadn't noticed, and he cleared his thoughts. He didn't want to dwell on those memories now.
Her head was bent as she wrote in her looping, slanty, graceful script. She still had quite a few names to go…
She sat at the desk; one leg tucked under her. The elegant heeled-boot on the floor tapped unconsciously from time to time, and was endearing to him as he watched her work. He knew most of her habits, even the odd ones, even the ones that were awfully attractive to him.
She had on a dark green dress, sleeves rolled up as she worked, and a few buttons casually undone under the little white lace collar of her dress. She couldn't see him watching her because she was deep in concentration and her hair fell into her eyes when she moved. Once in a while a hand brushed languidly through her hair to keep it in place. It fell in front of her eyes again eventually.
He could always tell when she looked up because the blue eyes stood out from the black hair and the green dress. Really, they were so dark…unusually dark, that they stood out no matter what she wore.
He marveled that at twenty-eight, only a few years younger than him, that she still looked like she was much younger at times like these. The same quirky writing stance that he had noticed on some of his students as they wrote during an exam, it amused him.
Was this heaven? Was this bliss or whatever people refer to it as? Could he expect half of anything this wonderful wherever his soul would eventually go? Because he had so much more to do to make up for his past, it didn't bear thinking.
He continued to watch her.
He hated Christmas but this was more pleasant. This moment, in his office…with her.
Dumbledore was Headmaster when he was at school. Snape had stayed at Hogwarts not wanting to go home, and his parents were indifferent. If he preferred to stay they saw nothing wrong with it. They were too busy battling amongst themselves to notice really. There was nothing to go home to, so after his first year he didn't bother anymore. Even when Lily went home for the holidays each year, it didn't matter, because the Evans were so busy that he never really saw her over the holiday break as they grew older. And Petunia knew how to botch any plans he hatched to see her.
A part of him always noted each year which of the students, few in number, had stayed over the holidays at Hogwarts. He always avoided them. Perhaps, it was too much for him? If he asked about it or if he pretended to acknowledge them it could lead to finding out why they stayed behind and maybe it would hit to close to his own recollections? Not that anyone minded really and surely the students were relieved that Professor Snape ignored them. Dumbledore and the staff more than made up for it. They had a huge feast and the staff sat with the students. If Dumbledore got word that they hadn't received anything for Christmas, well, then he made sure that they did at school. Vector was another sentimental fool, especially, if she knew they had a troubling situation at that time. She was always so nice to all of the students really.
Sometimes it made him uncomfortable because he couldn't feel that way.
It was then that Vector looked up.
"You have got to be joking. I didn't see those other tags. Merlin, I will be here another half hour at least."
He offered her a wry smirk and said nothing. He waited until she picked up her quill and then resumed quietly studying her.
This is what he loved. Some quiet time and being left alone. The fireplace… his cozy chair… piles of books, elf-made wine, and Vector. He took a slow sip of his wine and his gaze never left her direction.
And then he sighed resignedly. It was tiresome making up fake work so she had to be with him. One half hour?
What should he say next? What potion could he mysteriously be out of that she wouldn't notice was stocked in his stores?
Alas, it was probably pushing it tonight if he claimed to need her longer.
Forty-five minutes later…
She sat on the floor by the fire still looking over the names from the tags. The dark wavy hair was tinged with red due to the glow of the fire. The creamy, velvety skin seemed to glow too. She laughed out loud as she perused over one name, remembering the ridiculous gift certificate to Madame Puddifoot's that some first year's family sent him, who apparently didn't realize that he would burn the place down before having to set foot in it. But her laughter reverberated within him…so pleasant, so entrancing.
This was happiness for him, for she, er, didn't seem to mind being here. Though she said she was supposed to go out with Sinistra, but if they really were out of that potion for the sick children she would stay.
Thankfully, he had thought quickly and remembered that Pomfrey did have two seventh years that had to stay in the hospital wing.
"You haven't checked the potion. Ten minutes has passed, Vector. Is it green yet?" he asked softly.
He watched her get up and give him that look as she rolled her eyes and walked over to the cauldron.
Lovely…
His lip curled and he smiled deviously to himself and quickly, so Vector wouldn't see it.
Wouldn't it be nice if she ever stayed because she wanted to be with me?
He looked over at the clock and noticed that it was already five.
And he ceased to wildly ponder what if, as a thought occurred to him.
Flitwick was starting the damned decorating tomorrow. And that usually brought about what he also dreaded regarding the holiday.
The Hogwarts Choir….with Sinistra and her warbling in it!
