Chapter: 12 (revised)
A Proposition
Severus gritted his teeth while his fingers fumbled with the collar button of his best shirt. Although his proposal to Claira had yet to be classified as a date, he decided it would be more appropriate to dress in formal attire for their dinner engagement: a crisp, white, long-sleeved shirt, a handsome black waistcoat and black pleated trousers better suited his purpose, as opposed to heavy teaching robes.
Not that his purpose was to attract the opposite sex. No, the lightweight garments simply provided an easier means of maneuvering about a crowded pub.
Of course it would have been inconsiderate of him not to have showered, or groomed his hair, or shaved the sprout of whiskers on his chin. And, because the evening was sure to place them within close proximity of each other, it would have been rude of him not to splash on a bit of cologne to mask any lingering scents from the dungeon she might find unpleasant.
Sitting upon the edge of his bed, Severus had just finished adjusting the leg of his trousers over the neck of his polished boots when his fireplace choked out a puff of smoke.
"Ah, Severus, there you are," said Dumbledore, his head suspended inside the crackling flames. "I have decided to hold a brief staff meeting at six-thirty. Your attendance, as always, would be greatly appreciated."
Severus scowled. "Certainly, Headmaster."
"Oh, and if you happen by Argus, please inform him that one of our first-year students has misplaced her toad. I believe Peeves may have had a hand in it."
Never mind his impending plans for the evening, Severus sneered at the fire logs, as he shoved a fistful of galleons into his pocket. Happen by Argus indeed! He snatched his travel cloak from its immaculate silver stand and stormed out of his rooms in search of the caretaker.
Meanwhile...
Claira sat alone on a small, cushioned armchair that was furthest away from the gaping eyes and whispers of the surrounding staff members. To say she was uncomfortable would have been an understatement. She had been dodging stares in the corridors and stairwells the entire afternoon. It was astonishing how fast news traveled throughout the castle, especially when that news involved the most secretive teacher at Hogwarts, Severus Snape.
She tried to hide behind an edition of the Evening Prophet as a small crowd of children gathered outside of the staffroom. They were sneaking peeks at her through the doorway, which someone had mischievously charmed to remain open. Minerva suspected it was a Zonko's product called Tacky Goo, and had informed her that only Professor Flitwick, who had yet to arrive, knew the spell to remove it. However, Claira had a feeling that Minerva, like the others, was simply enjoying the tiny drama unfolding around her, not to mention listening to the ridiculous rumors the children were concocting in the corridor. They accused Professor Snape of such devilries as slipping a love potion into her pumpkin juice, dropping an aphrodisiac into her chicken soup and disguising a lust amulet as an hors d'oeuvre. It was all very absurd!
Unable to pull her ears away from the children's drabble, Claira overheard one of the newcomers ask, "Er, what's everyone standing around here for?"
"Haven't you heard? Snape's got a date with that new mediwitch. Miss Bell, isn't it?"
"You must be joking, right? Bloody hell! That would be like, uh, Beauty and the Beast!"
"More like Beauty and the Great Ugly Bat!" cackled another boy.
A girl's voice suddenly shouted, "He's coming! He's coming!" It sounded as if she was out of breath from running. "And he's dressed up all fancy-like!"
The students strained to look over each other's head. They pushed and shoved, and stood on the tips of their toes. Inside, the staff fell silent.
"There he is! Merlin's balls, look at him!" one of the girls giggled. "You know, he actually looks rather good!"
"Ew, Jessica, that's Snape you're talking about!"
With a girlish gleam in her eye, Professor McGonagall stood up from her chair. Acting as if she were merely surveying the commotion in the corridor, she hurried to the doorway and peered out. She returned to her seat shortly afterward, struggling to disguise a smirk.
The deep rumble of Professor Snape's voice brought the noisy event to a closing. "Unless you all have written permission to loiter about the hallways, I suggest you return to your dormitories, immediately!"
Claira's face flushed when the Professor stepped into view. He was a sight! It was the first time she had seen him out of his teaching robes, and she had to admit he was indeed a handsome man. Perhaps not in the fairytale Prince Charming sort of way, but he did have a certain allure that made him just as attractive; one had to admire a tall, lean man who knew how to carry himself in a dignified manner. Her eyes glistened in appreciation.
As Severus turned to enter the staffroom, one of the students whistled and howled, "WAY TO GO, PROFFESOR SNAPE!"
Severus whipped around, his eyes darting this way and that in search of the miscreant which dared to address a professor in such a disrespectful fashion. But it was too late, and the boy had run off. No matter, it would still be ten points from Gryffindor.
As he entered the room, he was greeted with sniggers and murmurs, which soon faded away as he sneered at each of his colleagues in turn. His piercing eyes then fell on Claira, and he felt a brief, passing weakness in his knees. She was wearing a short, sleeveless dress that revealed an abundance of flesh normally hidden beneath her day-to-day Muggle attire. Her hair, done in soft curls, draped over her shoulders in the most appealing of ways. Severus was taken aback by her appearance, and could not help but stare at her, unaware that he was drawing even more unwanted attention to himself. It was apparent that the girl saw their outing as a romantic engagement of some sort and, for the first time in a very long time, he felt a twinge of nervousness, and was uncertain how to proceed.
Just then, Dumbledore entered the room, beaming. "Good evening. As I am sure you all have plans for tonight," he paused to give Severus the opportunity to take his seat, "I will attempt to make this meeting as fleeting as possible. As you all know, the Hogsmeade weekend is drawing near - "
The entire staff, with the exception of Claira who was unfamiliar with the topic of choice, began to grumble beneath their breath.
"Now, now, you know as well as I that someone must be there to keep an eye on the students. Madam Hooch, surely you can - "
"I'm Sorry, Albus. I've already made arrangements for that weekend. Perhaps Minerva?"
Professor McGonagall gave her a sharp glance. "I do believe I supervised the majority of visits last term. I think it's only fair that someone else volunteer for a change."
The staffroom exploded in chatter.
"Silence!" Dumbledore raised his hand, receiving the desired result. "Very well, I shall place this scroll on this table, along with this quill. Before anyone leaves here tonight, I expect there to be at least one signature on it. Madam Pomfrey, of course you are excused; your services, as always, are needed at the castle. As for the rest of you, please recheck your schedules."
Unwilling to spend the next hour squabbling like a flock of Fwoopers, Severus stood up and approached the table. Snatching up the quill, he jotted his name down on the parchment. He then motioned Claira to follow as he swept towards the door.
"Thank you, Severus," said Dumbledore, frowning at the other professors. "Do enjoy yourselves this evening."
A cool breeze flitted under Claira's dress as they descended the stone steps leading away from the castle. The moon and stars shone remarkably bright that night, illuminating the grounds, as well as the path to Hogsmeade. Walking side by side, but far enough apart so as not to invade the others' personal space, the two commenced towards the twinkling lights of the village.
Severus watched Claira out of the corner of his eye, his gaze often straying to the areas of stretched fabric that exploited her slender, yet curvaceous figure. It was a little known secret that he had a preference for petite women: in his eyes, they were fair and elegant, and easy to dominate. But the more he looked at the woman beside him, the more infatuated he became with her, and the angrier he became with himself for giving in to such a frivolous desire. Now that his potion had been submitted to the Ministry for review, he was no longer in a position to pursue a relationship beyond that of an acquaintance, nor would he have the time for it.
Just as they reached the foot of the path, Severus turned to her. "Before we continue onward, I think we should eliminate any false assumptions that may have manifested between now and this morning. Although your efforts," his eyes swept over her body in a bold, appreciative manner, "have not gone unnoticed, and you are indeed a very attractive young lady, I want to clarify that I do not consider this to be a date. That being said, I see no reason why we cannot share a quiet evening together as colleagues."
Claira was speechless for a moment. His words bruised her pride, but she held her chin up. "Thank you, Professor. I think you made it quite clear. Colleagues, it is."
"Good. Shall we?" He spun back towards the town, and proceeded to lead her down its path.
They traveled a considerable distance in silence. The only conversation was the chirping of the crickets, and the croaking of the toads.
At last, Claira spoke. "I suppose that is Hogsmeade then?" It was a silly question, but it seemed to thin out the friction between them, as well as her embarrassment for having done herself up for a date that did not exist.
"Yes, " Severus replied. Then, after a pause, he asked, "Are you familiar with its history?"
As they walked, he explained the town's development and magical ancestry. The discussion held until they reached the outskirts.
Claira was amazed at how many shops and cottages lined the roads. Many of the businesses were closed for the night, but a few windows remained lit by candles. It was a charming place, and she admired its timeworn beauty as she followed Severus down several winding paths. She would have liked to explore some of the buildings, but was rushed past them all on what seemed to be a hastened journey to a small cedar door. A faded sign hung on a rusted pole just above that read: The Dragon's Den.
Severus held the door open as they stepped inside.
The pub was noisy, smoky, and astir with witches and wizards in search of an empty table. Claira tried to stay close to Severus as they pushed through the crowd, but he stepped ahead of her and slipped between two large, bearded men. As she attempted to follow, the men clapped their mugs together in a boisterous toast, blocking her path. Claira could only watch as Severus approached the bar and conversed with an old mage behind the counter.
He exchanged a leather pouch for a small silver object then rejoined her, much to Claira's relief. Grabbing hold of her arm, he pulled her towards a wooden door hidden in the shadows and inserted a key. Once the door was unlocked, he placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her inside.
It was a cozy, dimly lit room. There was a decorative marble fireplace, a table dressed in white linen, and two wooden chairs. On the walls hung an array of antique paintings, many of which were animated portraits of famous witches and wizards. Claira grinned. It was a pleasant retreat, warm and quiet, compared to the rest of the pub.
Severus pulled out a chair for her.
"I have already taken the liberty of ordering our meal," he said, sitting down opposite from her at the table.
Just then, a plump witch pushed through the door carrying two large platters, cutlery and goblets, all of which were made of fine silver. She placed them on the table.
"What would you like to drink, Miss?"
"Oh, um, lemonade with ice, thank you."
The witch tapped the rim of her goblet, and it filled itself with lemonade and cubed ice.
"And you, sir?"
"The Chardonnay: Chateau Latour, the '97 vintage."
She performed the same spell on his goblet, which filled with the chilled, golden wine. The waitress then exited the room.
Claira waited for Severus to remove the cover from his dish before removing hers. Steam rose up then cleared to reveal the strange-looking food on her plate. It bore a slight resemblance to a seafood platter; only it looked more exotic, and much less appetizing. Glancing up, she noticed he had already taken a bite of his. As he had purchased the meal, and because she did not want to be rude, Claira took a deep breath and scooped a small portion into her mouth.
Her eyes closed in ecstasy. It was delicious!
Severus peered up from his plate. "I trust the meal is satisfactory?"
"Yes! This is fantastic. What is it?" She waved her hand to stop him from answering. "No, wait, don't tell me. I wouldn't want to ruin it."
His mouth formed an almost sinister grin. "Neither would I."
Claira chuckled. Deep beneath his dark brow and hooded expression, the man had a sense of humor. She appreciated the subtle, underplayed delivery, and she loved how he never laughed at his own comments; so giving those comments a certain ambiguity. People often mistook his words as insults because of that. Staring into his black, guarded eyes, she wondered what other hidden qualities he would unveil to her given time and, of course, the right persuasion.
Claira lowered her gaze to her plate, and sighed. What was wrong with her? She had to stop romanticizing a man who would not wish to be romanticized. This was not a date, no matter how much she would have liked it to be. However, the fact still remained that she was attracted to him; there was no denying it. If she were not careful about hiding her feelings, she would end the night with egg on her face.
Severus watched Claira with interest, bemused by her conflicting expressions. She seemed to be brimming with inner turmoil, and he pondered on why that might be. He had just made her laugh, but now she was frowning at her roasted Kappa. Women's emotions could be so inconsistent.
Was it possible she had developed an infatuation for him during their time spent together? His eyes narrowed at the idea. Impossible, he thought. Surely she would prefer a younger man, presumably one more handsome and eager to please. However, there was a part of him that was flattered Claira would even consider him: she was an attractive woman. Most attractive women never gave him a second glance.
As he took a sip of wine, his eyes began to drift downwards from her face to her bosom. He could tell by the tight rise in the fabric that she had a sizeable bust. His eyebrow twitched. He happened to favor full, taut breasts, especially ones accented by smooth, unblemished skin; but not ones so large they would not fit in his hands. He stole another swallow of wine. Claira's breasts, he decided, were of perfect kneading size.
He set his goblet down on the table and slid it aside; the wine was beginning to cloud his head with nonsense. It was time he focused his attention on more important matters, such as the reason why he had invited Claira to dinner in the first place.
"I don't think you quite realize the significance of your actions this morning. Finding someone who is willing to test experimental draughts is near to impossible these days. If you hadn't intervened this morning the funding would have been lost, as well as any lives the potion might otherwise have saved. So you see, it is not just I who should be grateful to you. "
Claira looked up, and smiled. "It was my pleasure."
Severus held her gaze. His fingers drummed the table. "I have a proposition for you to consider." He paused for her reaction. Seeing naught but curiosity in her eyes, he continued. "The potion you tested was only one of many prototype draughts I am currently working on. You must understand that not all potions I brew are requested by the Ministry. I do, occasionally, accept commission work from private parties if the challenge intrigues me. I need someone to test them, someone who is disciplined and competent enough to follow my exact orders. Naturally, I would not allow you to take anything which might harm you. An antidote would always be on hand to counter any, how shall I say, negative effects you might experience. Should you accept the position, you would be generously compensated."
Claira blinked at him while her mind raced over the possibilities. She made little money as an assistant to Madam Pomfrey, and she could use a few extra galleons to put in her savings vault at Gringotts. But, more importantly, it was an opportunity to contribute something to the Wizarding world, to help save lives. The war was drawing near. She was not a warrior: she was a healer. Any chance she had to make a difference was a risk she was willing to take.
"I would be honored, Professor."
Severus leaned forward, his expression stern and earnest. "Please be absolutely certain, Miss Bell. This is a serious commitment. I won't tolerate any breaches of our agreement should you change your mind."
Claira nodded. "I never make a promise I don't intend to keep." She reached over and placed her hand on top of his. "I won't let you down."
He stared down at her hand, resisting the urge to turn his over and take hold of it. Her skin was soft and warm, and the physical contact made him feel almost human again. Looking up, his eyes locked with hers. "Our sessions will be held twice a week, Monday and Thursday night. Everything discussed and witnessed is to remain between us, understood? I shall be our Secret Keeper. If you have any questions, please ask them now. I do not want to waste time on formalities come Monday."
Claira slowly withdrew her hand. "Will I be testing poisons?"
"Not at first," he replied. "But, yes, you will; however, not without a proper antidote, for obvious reasons."
Claira bit her lip. "What if something goes wrong? Do you have a contingency plan?"
Severus's mouth thinned. "Do you doubt my ability?"
Claira's eyes widened. "No, not at all. I didn't mean - "
"I assure you, I would not impose a potion upon you that did not hold my absolute confidence. However, should there be an unforeseen effect, I will be at the ready with a remedy." He cocked his eyebrow. "I needn't remind you that you also work alongside one of the most proficient Healers in the Wizarding world."
Claira blushed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."
"It would take a great deal more than that to offend me, my dear," Severus snorted. "Or haven't you heard the rumors about Hogwarts' dreaded Potions professor? I, on the other hand, have become immune to such backbiting." He downed the remainder of his wine. "Have you finished your meal?"
Claira glanced at her plate, and grinned. She was picking at her food. "Yes, I am. Thank you. It was wonderful."
"It was the least I could do." He stood and tossed on his travel coat. "And now, it is time you become acquainted with the town."
Holding the door open for her, they left The Dragon's Den and ventured out into the street.
