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Chapter 3 - Another World
Phoebe woke early; the man was not lying next to her. She pushed herself up on her elbows.
"Severus?" she called. She liked the sound of his name as she spoke it aloud.
The man did not answer.
Phoebe rolled onto her side, propped on her left elbow and looked around the room; she could not see any trace of the man. His clothes were gone - he was gone.
After showering and dressing quickly, she scanned the rest of the house for any evidence that the man might be returning - a forgotten belonging, a note, anything - but found nothing. She wondered why he had left without waking her and worried that he might not return, at all.
Phoebe obsessively cleaned the house for the rest of the day, the thoughts of the previous evening whirling around her head; fragmented. It wasn't until late in the afternoon that she felt able to string her thoughts together.
'Was it a one night stand? Damn!' Disheartened, she scolded herself, 'I let this happen.' She had allowed herself to be swept up by the heat of the moment, without even a thought for the consequences. 'How could I be so stupid, he'd hardly even had to try! Oh, why did he do this to me? She was getting angry with the situation… with him.
Then she suddenly remembered with a jolt that the man had tried to leave last night, before their indiscretion, and in fact it was her who had asked him to stay. It had not been intentional on his part.
She groaned in disbelief at herself, feeling terribly ashamed… and guilty. She should not have been so weak willed, she must have seemed so desperate…
"Oh my God, what must he think of me?" she whispered, horrified. Had she ruined it all? Would he think her easy and boring? She sighed, putting her head in her hands. She now realised she had done, to the extreme, exactly what she had been trying so hard to avoid - to appear too eager. She had chased him away for sure. "I'm such an idiot!" she muttered in disgust.
A tear dropped from her eye and rolled down her cheek. Quickly she wiped it away and huffed a sigh, 'I wonder if I'll ever get to see him again? Damn, I think I really liked him - and now I've ruined it.' She wondered on this thought a little longer. Could she really have feelings for him already? She actually barely knew him, and he was still very much an enigma. Perhaps it was only curiosity about his special gifts, and a raw lust for his dark and dangerous countenance, that was behind these feelings she was having - there was no doubt that Phoebe was attracted to him. 'Oh, bugger!'
A knock a the door roused her from her thoughts.
As she opened the door, she was astonished to see the dark man standing on her doorstep.
"Severus!" she blurted in surprise, she definitely had not expected to see him again, let alone this afternoon. Awkwardly, she invited him in. Her embarrassment at her behaviour returned with a vengeance, her face flushing instantly. She stared intently at the floor, fighting the conflicting feelings of relief and delight that the man had come back despite her shameful display, and wishing that he had stayed away to save her humiliation.
"I'm sorry…" she said, as he also began to speak.
Phoebe lifted her head to look at him, she smiled at him sheepishly.
"What? Oh, sorry, you go first," she offered. She braced herself for the inevitable words of rejection. Quickly she wondered if maybe she could undo the damage with her confession and apology after.
"I apologise…" he said, "I should have controlled myself last night, I got carried away. I was… selfish."
She couldn't believe her ears. He was apologising for his lack of self control.
"Severus… no, I am to blame, I shouldn't have pressed myself on you-" she confessed.
"No,' he interrupted, 'I knew you were struggling… I should have been more responsible, I should not have taken advantage of your vulnerability," he insisted. "No doubt you feel that things happened far too soon, do forgive me."
"Yes… well, we did get a little carried away, didn't we," Phoebe admitted, but then she hurried to explain, "Not that it wasn't nice, Severus… but … I think we should have taken more time. I mean… I still think we should take more time." She caught his eye and gave him a small encouraging smile.
"Indeed, we shall then," he agreed with a nod, turning to the window though he could not see outside for the curtain. "I will not compromise your position again… until you say you are ready." Silence followed. Phoebe watched as he fidgeted nervously with the cuff of his sleeve.
"Severus?" she asked.
He turned to her, "Yes?" he answered.
"It's alright," she said, "you did nothing wrong. I am a grown woman, I made my own decisions, you aren't responsible for me."
The man nodded once and turned away to the window with his back to Phoebe. There was silence for what seemed like ages, then the dark man turned to face Phoebe again. He hesitated briefly, but then seemed to come to a decision.
"My world, the Wizarding world, is very different from the one you are used to," he said quite plainly, "if you wish to know me, you will need to be prepared for… unusual things, be accepting of who I am, what I do-"
Phoebe assumed he spoke of his magical ability and his occupation as a teacher at the Wizarding school, and was about to say that she had already accepted these things, when he continued.
"-you may need to make changes in your life, leave old ways behind." Severus approached her until he was only a few inches between them.
Confused, and a little alarmed, Phoebe found herself agreeing, "I would be prepared to do that," she assured him, though her mind struggled to keep up with her voice. What on earth did she just agree to - and why? Did she find this man so intriguing and exciting, she would do just about anything, without question? Phoebe looked up into his eyes; was he hiding something, was it more than a different world that she would need to accept? She lost herself in those eyes for a moment, the intensity of his gaze drawing her deep into his dark pools. When he looked away, a shiver ran down her spine and she felt herself gasp breathlessly. She discovered his hand had moved to the small of her back and instantly felt glad for the support.
"I know you have doubts, even though you say you are prepared," he was saying, "and there are… secrets you cannot know, and you must not ask me of them - only trust that I will tell you what I can, but no more."
'What? Secrets that she must not ask about?' Phoebe had known he was not the forthcoming type… but what in the world was she getting herself into? 'And, by the way, how does he know I have doubts?' She took a small step back from him, away from his gentle embrace, feeling that she should resume some of the control he seemed to have stripped from her because of his intense presence.
"How is it you seem to know what I'm thinking?" she asked, a little indignantly.
"I am a Legilimens," he answered, "Legilimency is the ability to extract feelings and memories from another person's mind."
"You mean you can read my mind?" Phoebe asked surprised and quite impressed at first, then as she realised the full implications of this, that she had no privacy of thought, she spat out angrily, "How many times have you read my mind?"
"Many of your feelings are expressed quite plainly on your face," he responded, "I have not done it as many times as you may think."
"How many times?!" she demanded.
"Three," he conceded, "once when I needed to be sure you were not injured in any other way by your attacker in the alley. Again when you were asking about contacting me and suspected I was married… and just now." He looked quite abashed, and almost apologetic, but he closed the distance between them once more, reaching for her hand. "It is important I know how you feel about accepting my world, the conditions… me."
Phoebe outrage softened a little at his last admission. 'He cares how I feel about him?' she thought, touched by his honesty.
"Please don't do it again," she appealed, "it… it's not… fair."
"It was… tactless, I agree," he admitted, nodding, "however there are times when I believe it is necessary. I will not do it again unless I feel it is one of those times."
"When would it be necessary?" Phoebe asked with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion.
"If you needed to communicate with me, but were unable to talk freely," he suggested.
"Am I likely to encounter such an occasion?" she questioned, doubting.
"It is possible, but not probable," he responded, "though Phoebe, know I will not invade your privacy again without cause, I give you my word."
Phoebe fixed her gaze on his once more, he seemed sincere, and she decided after a moment that he had not lied to her so far and she would trust that he would not start now. She took a deep breath in…
"Will you introduce me to your world?" Phoebe boldly requested, "I will accept your terms," she agreed, her stomach suddenly fluttering.
"Yes," he replied, a rare grin adorning his lips, "Come with me now, I have something I wish to show you."
Phoebe put on a light coat and picked up her handbag. She took another look around the sitting room before she shut her front door. She sensed things may seem different when she returned. It was like setting foot on an adventure, the possibilities were exciting, enticing, endless, even frightening or dangerous. Hesitating slightly, she glanced quickly between the dark man waiting for her and her closed front door. Resolving herself, she accompanied him along the footpath.
Would this be another decision she would eventually regret?
Phoebe noticed after about five minutes that they were walking in the direction of the alley in which she was attacked a little over a week ago. She became increasingly on edge the nearer they approached, until they walked right past. Phoebe moved up close to the dark man, nervously glancing behind herself every several metres. The attack had affected her confidence greatly. The man must have noticed and protectively put his arm around her shoulders. She relaxed a little at the feel of his warmth so close. 'Nothing can hurt me whilst Severus is here,' she assured herself.
They walked on until they reached the next corner and turned into a busy street. Suddenly he stopped outside a small, old wooden door, a big bookshop on one side and a record shop on the other. Phoebe would have walked right past it and not even noticed it was there. Everyone else busy shopping seemed to not notice it either, it appeared to be abandoned.
"In here," he said, and opened the door for her to walk through.
He followed right behind her as she stepped in through the doorway. On the other side was a dark and shabby room, a pub, surprisingly alive and bustling with rowdy people. People, Phoebe noticed, dressed similarly to Severus, with cloaks and robes - Wizards and Witches. Phoebe was awe struck and the dark man had to take her by the hand and lead her to the back entrance, as she had just stood there with her mouth hanging open.
"This is the Leaky Cauldron," the man whispered in her ear. "Come, there is more."
She allowed herself to be lead out the back door and into a courtyard. There was no doorway that lead any further. 'Was this it?' she wondered to herself.
Phoebe watched as the dark man withdrew his wand and tapped lightly on the bricks in a certain order, and she gasped loudly when they rearranged themselves to form an opening in the wall, revealing a busy lane way beyond.
"Oh my God… what is this place?" she asked, as she stepped through the archway onto the lane. There was so much to see all at once that she could barely take in anything.
"Diagon Alley," answered the man. "This is where the magical world conducts business, away from the prying eyes of Muggles. Our world is kept secret so we may exist without persecution," he explained.
"But you showed… me," Phoebe said, taking hold of his arm and gazing at him.
"Yes," he said, looking intently at her, "it is a part of who I am. If you are to know me, then you must know… this," he looked up at the winding street.
Phoebe turned around again and surveyed the street in front of her. "I will gladly get to know your world," she assured, smiling. She felt privileged and excited, and very happy.
The two of them spent a good hour visiting a variety of stores, each one to Phoebe, more unusual than the last. She listened as the man explained some of the ingredients in the apothecary, although she admitted she had never heard of any of them. Phoebe sensed the man had a very good understanding of the uses of the plants and substances he showed her and she had her suspicions confirmed when he arranged delivery of some for himself to Hogwarts.
"Hogwarts?" she queried.
"Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he explained.
He paid for his wares with a strange combination of gold and silver coins and she resolved to ask Severus to show and explain these to her at a later time.
When it was almost dark, they headed towards the archway backing onto the Leaky Cauldron. The last of the shops in Diagon Alley were closing up for the evening, but the pub was still bustling. It was difficult to move through the crowd, but eventually they meandered their way to the door and emerged onto the Muggle street. It was by now deserted, and as they rounded the corner and once again approached the small alley way Phoebe had unwisely used as a shortcut, Phoebe realised with a jar, how the man walking beside her had come to be in exactly the right place at the right time to save her when she had been attacked two Fridays previous. She reached out and put her small hand in his. She felt him squeeze firmly on her hand and felt so thankful that he had been there at that time, and also, that he was here with her now.
They had walked in silence for most of the way back to Phoebe's house and when they reached the door, Phoebe turned to the man.
"Please come in for a while," she said, and as she noted his hesitation she added, "we'll both agree to make sure nothing gets out of hand," she said with a small smile.
With a nod the man agreed.
"Well, open the door then," Phoebe ordered, a twinkle in her eye and she observed as he withdrew his wand and unlocked the door. She marvelled at his powers, at the obvious competency with which he used them and also at his dark, mysterious persona and felt a sense of anticipation--no--expectancy, that she had been chosen to embark on a journey with him. Why her, what did he see in her? She was but ordinary in her own eyes.
As they stepped into the entrance hall the man took off his cloak, reached for Phoebe's already removed coat and hung them both on the coat stand. They both moved into the sitting room and sat on the couch.
"Thank you for taking me there today," Phoebe acknowledged, "it was enjoyable and educational. I look forward to going again."
"You are welcome," he answered quietly, "and yes, I do intend to take you some other time."
"Well if I'm going to go another time, I would really like that if I saw something I liked, I could buy it," she cunningly took her opportunity, "and I did happen to notice that my money would be no good there."
"Ah…" he said, amused, "you would like to spend some money. I have heard that is typical of your breed," he teased.
"Typical of my breed?" she faked indignity, "And what breed would that be?"
"Woman," he answered playfully, with a smirk.
"And what would you know about women?" Phoebe retorted, chuckling. "Seriously though, I do want to learn about your money," she appealed.
"Gold Galleons, silver Sickles and bronze Knuts," he explained obligingly, retrieving three different coins from his pocket, "seventeen Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it is not too difficult to remember."
"It will take some… getting used to, I think," she said, somewhat confused, holding the coins in her hand.
"I shall bring some extra for you to spend, for practice, next time," he suggested, and as she tried to hand the coins back, he offered, "Keep them, they are yours."
"Thank you," Phoebe said smiling at him, putting the coins on the side table, then she reached out and took his hand, "I really have enjoyed myself today."
The man moved closer to Phoebe on the couch and reached out with his own hand to touch her face. He looked into her eyes, "You are… perfect."
Phoebe shivered at his touch and her breathing quickened. She closed her eyes for a moment and relished the warmth of his hand on her cheek. She felt him move nearer until she he kissed her gently. She fought her urge to passionately kiss him back… then he pulled away. She opened her eyes.
"I have to go," he said. She knew why, she did not question him.
"When will you come back?" she asked, not letting go of his hand.
"I am not sure," he responded, "probably not until next weekend."
She stood up and let his hand free. He retrieved his cloak from the rack and swung it on, then returned to stand in front of her, bent down to kiss her once more and departed.
Phoebe hurried to the window and withdrew the curtain. He was just walking down the street when, with a swish of his cloak and a faint pop, he just… disappeared. 'Magic,' Phoebe thought, 'Amazing!'