A huge thank you needs to go out to the following for all your wonderful reviews on the last chapter, as well as your continued support for this story - it is much appreciated: otaku701, PrismRootStarlight, animechick247, stubs1101, Friedbananas, Guest reader, Ladyxx, Estel Ashlee Snape, TheRosePond, CygnusRift, szaboalexandra1991, Milly Kanzaki, d'elfe, ColdOnePaul, and Cat2k10. THANK YOU!
Here is the next chapter - I hope you enjoy it ;)
The next morning found the Great Hall bustling with excitable students as they eagerly tucked into their breakfast, the mountain of dishes consisting of eggs, toast, sausages, bacon, cereal and porridge weighing down the table. Today the enchanted ceiling reflected a dull, overcast sky outside, the grey clouds giving off a distinctive start-of-school-year gloom.
Lauren eagerly tucked into her plate of eggs, toast and sausages with gusto, her appetite seeming to having to increased exponentially over the summer. It was times like these that she marvelled at how much food and calories her growing twelve-soon-to-be-thirteen-year-old body needed.
Draco had chosen to sit himself on the opposite side of Lauren, and she was starting to wonder about his increasing avoidance of Crabbe and Goyle. Usually he was flanked by those two buffoons wherever he went.
Tracey, on the other hand, was acting rather odd; stiffly fidgety and barely touching her breakfast. Lauren watched as she straightened her cutlery for the umpteenth time before dropping her hands into her lap and wringing them together, her pinched expression darting towards the staff table every few seconds.
"What the hell has gotten into you?" Lauren finally snapped, having enough of watching her friend's display of what could only be described as OCD, which was getting right on her nerves.
Tracey startled and glanced over briefly at Lauren before turning her attention back to the staff table. Lauren followed her line of sight and was surprised to see that instead of ogling the prancing peacock, otherwise known as Lockhart, Tracey's gaze was instead trained on Snape. She mumbled something incoherent under her breath, and Lauren leaned in trying to hear what she was saying.
"What?"
"I said," Tracey snapped irritably, turning her head and locking eyes with Lauren, "that I'm waiting for our timetables. Professor Snape should be handing them out to us after breakfast."
"Ah, I see," Lauren mused, really not understanding in the least. "And...why are you waiting for our new timetable?"
A deep flush burnished Tracey's pale cheeks, and the pieces finally clicked in place in Lauren's head.
"You want to see when our next Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson is and when next you'll get to see Lockhart. I should have known," she remarked, not bothering to hide her obvious disgust.
Bloody teenagers and their hormones!
A defiant look graced Tracey's flushed features. "So what if I am?" she retorted.
Lauren scowled back at her friend and was about to make a scathing remark, but was interrupted (or saved) by the rushing sound of a hundred owls streaming into the Great Hall, blocking the sight of the enchanted ceiling above their heads as they circled around the room and then swooped down, depositing their various letters and packages.
A few moments later the shrill, booming voice of Molly Weasley thundered throughout the Great Hall, startling everyone and making the walls practically shake as she scolded Ron about the whole stunt with the flying car. The entire Hall stilled as the students listened with rapt attention at the unfolding scene that was playing out before them. Most of the Slytherins snickered at the sight of Ron turning a spectacular shade of beetroot red as he scooted lower into his seat.
A hallow ringing silence followed afterwards and then the letter burst into flames, leaving nothing but a pile of ashes as evidence of what had just transpired.
"That was a Howler," Tracey explained when she glimpsed Lauren's dumbfounded expression.
"I see," Lauren intoned, still stunned by just how jarringly loud a Howler really was. The books and movies hadn't done it any justice, really. Mrs Weasley's shrill voice was still ringing in Lauren's head, and she suspected Ron was suffering some hearing loss as a result.
Movement at the staff table instantly diverted Tracey's attention, and she watched with an almost unnerving predatory anticipation as Snape strode towards the Slytherin table, his black robe flapping sharply at his heels. He started with the seventh years first, gradually making his way down the long table as he handed out their timetables.
As he neared Lauren's section of the table, his sharp gaze momentarily flickered up to meet hers, their gazes locking. In that brief instant Lauren's very breath was stolen from her lungs, the world around her fading away and leaving just the two of them existing in this hazy bubble.
Then the spell was broken as Snape handed Lauren her timetable and promptly turned his attention to the next student.
It took a few moments for her mind to clear of the confusing fog.
What...what is going on with me? This is not normal, she mused, trying desperately to ignore the way her heart rate had sped up at the sight of him.
Unable to take her eyes off of him, she watched as Snape descended upon the newest batch of first years, fear and apprehension evident upon their features as they faced the scrutiny of the formidable Potion Master.
A sharp jab to her ribs instantly brought Lauren back to reality.
"What?" Lauren snapped, clutching at her aching ribs, which Tracey had clearly elbowed.
"Look!" Tracey enthused, jabbing a finger at a spot on her timetable. "Our second lesson for the day is DADA!" she squealed. "I can't wait to see what Lockhart has planned for us."
Lauren scanned the timetable and saw that Tracey was, indeed, correct, and a scowl of annoyance furrowed her brows at the thought of having to start off the first section of the school day with that moron. But as she perused the rest of her timetable, her frown was replaced with that of confusion. She glanced over at Tracey's timetable and noted that hers was not quite the same.
Snape was now heading back up the aisle, and he must have noted her perplexed expression, or maybe he had anticipated it, for he made his way towards her.
"Something confusing you, Miss Ward?" he drawled as he loomed over her. Lauren shifted in her seat, craning her neck to look up at him, desperately trying to focus as the scent that was distinctly Snape overwhelmed her senses in intoxicating waves.
"Yes, Sir," she replied, feeling quite proud of the fact that not only had she managed to formulate an answer, but she had somehow managed to keep her voice even. "I think my timetable is wrong."
"Oh?" he intoned, arching a supercilious brow.
Lauren swallowed as his dark, penetrating gaze bore into her, causing her insides squirm and flutter under his scrutiny. "Yes. It says here that I have extra Potion lessons on Wednesday and Friday evenings. That can't be right."
Snape's obsidian gaze flickered down to the timetable clutched in her hand, and slowly he raised his eyes to meet hers.
"There is no mistake, Miss Ward."
Lauren blinked back at him in confusion, distantly aware that the entire Slytherin table had fallen silent as they watched the exchange between Professor and student.
"You will be receiving Introductory Advanced Potions lesson during those time slots."
"What?!" Draco exclaimed, shattering the silence. There was a hushed murmur of whispering among the Slytherins as they processed this rather astounding news. "Introductory Advanced Potions lessons? But...those extra lessons are only offered to really advanced students."
"Yes, Draco," Snape drawled, though it lacked his usual derisive snarkiness as he addressed his godson. "And Miss Ward has proven her exceptional prowess in the field of Potion brewing – her exam results are proof enough of her capabilities."
Draco's brows furrowed as he processed this news, and Lauren half expected him to become sullen with jealous animosity. Instead, she was stunned to glimpse a hint of admiration and awe shadowing his features.
"That's impressive, Ward. Not very many get accepted for such lessons with Professor Snape."
Lauren would have felt honoured, but then a thought occurred to her. This was all a ruse. Snape was honouring her request and was no longer resorting to using detention as an excuse to conduct their private lessons, and had instead found another more plausible way for them to continue with them without arousing suspicions.
A shadow of a smile curled his lips when Snape noted her putting two and two together. "The lessons have been scheduled for five until seven in the evening, Miss Ward. Do not be late, otherwise you will be suffering detention on top of your extra lessons."
With that he turned sharply and departed in a billow of black.
"Wow," Tracey gawped. "Advanced Potions lessons! That's impressive, Lauren."
"Yes, it is," Draco mused. "My godfather usually doesn't offer those extra lessons, at least not in recent history. And most certainly not to first, second, third and fourth years."
"Really?" Tracey inquired, her curiosity piqued.
"Yeah. I know he is planning to give me those extra lessons himself, but only in my fifth year. You must have really impressed him, Ward."
"Yeah, maybe," Lauren mumbled, folding up her timetable into a crisp, neat square before tucking it securely into her robe pocket. Her mind, however, was reeling with giddy and explainable excitement at the prospect spending extra time with Snape.
I practically spent the entire Summer with him. I should be trying to get away from him for a while – not the opposite. Something is seriously wrong with me, Lauren mused to herself as she and her classmates made their way to their first lesson of the day, which happened to be Transfiguration, and would then be followed by the less than thrilling DADA lesson next. Lauren just prayed that Lockhart didn't plan to unleash those pixies upon them, and would rather choose to reserve them for the Gryffindors instead.
Let them take one for the team.
Transfiguration went reasonably well, with Lauren, Tracey and Draco being the only ones who had successfully managed to transfigure their beetles into perfect black buttons. It didn't escape Lauren's attention, though, that Draco had chosen to seat himself close to her and Tracey, and part of her suspected that this was going to be an usual occurrence from now on.
Then came their DADA lesson. As the Slytherins filed into Lockhart's classroom, they were bombarded with a vast array of portraits of the prancing peacock beaming down at them with dazzling white smiles and perfectly coiffed hair. Lauren was instantly tempted to incinerate each and every one of them.
Once they were seated, Lockhart strutted towards the front of the classroom, the entire room falling silent as the students waited for their lesson to begin. A dreamy sigh to her left foretold that Tracey was once again drooling over the dunce, and the hushed up giggles sounding from Pansy and her gang at the back of the classroom gave away the fact that the other girls weren't unaffected either.
Am I the only sane one here?
Lauren rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to Lockhart, who was now stationed in front of his desk and giving them all what he thought was a winning smile.
"Good morning everyone. As you can see, I am your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher," he stated, extending his arms wide in grand and dramatic show of introduction. "And how lucky you are to have someone like me who is so well versed in the subject teaching you," he went on, his chest puffing out. "Me, Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League and five times winner of Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award." Lockhart paused, his eyes twinkling boyishly as his grin ratcheted up to a mega-watt level.
Lauren let out a loud, drawn out yawn that punctuated the very air around them. This stunt earned a sharp, reproachful glare from Tracey, and Lauren could practically feel Draco's wide grin from his perch behind her.
Lockhart faltered, his smile slipping fractionally before he recovered and barrelled on with his usual aplomb, plastering that annoyingly bright smile back onto his face. Lauren had to wonder how his cheeks didn't ache from all that incessant grinning.
"But I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!" he chuckled. "No, I am here to teach you much more valuable skills – though possessing a disarming smile wouldn't hurt either!"
Lockhart paused as he awaited the sounds of laughter at his lame joke. Tracey and Pansy were the only ones who gave weak chuckles; the rest of the students remained awkwardly silent. His gaze flickered towards Lauren and she levelled him her best imitation of being unimpressed before turning her attention to her nails, which she suddenly found more interesting.
"Anyway!" he exclaimed, snatching up some sheets of paper off his desk, "Let's start off with a quick quiz, shall we? See how well you really know your new Professor." He then proceeded to hand out their quizzes. "You have thirty minutes to complete it, and afterwards we shall go through the answers," he instructed, flashing them another blinding-white smile.
Tracey was already scribbling down her answers, her nose almost touching the parchment as she concentrated. Lauren turned her attention to the questions before her, and it was with great effort that she managed to withhold her snort of disgust. There were fifty-four questions in all, and every single one about the egotistical narcissist.
Lauren was about to tear the pages into tiny confetti-sized pieces, but then a wicked thought occurred to her and she picked up her quill and began writing.
Thirty minutes later, Lockhart rose from his chair and flamboyantly clapped his hands together.
"Times up. Let's see the results, shall we?" he enthused, collecting their quizzes.
Lauren half-heartedly listened as he went through each quiz, correcting the various mistakes. Finally he came upon one whose handwriting was familiar and Lauren instantly perked up.
"Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour is flaming...imbecile?" Lockhart stuttered, a frown pulling down at his perfectly groomed brows.
A choked cough that sounded distinctly like a covered-up laugh sounded behind her. Lauren glanced over her shoulder at Draco and gave him a cheeky wink before turning her attention back to Lockhart.
"That can't be right," he muttered absently, but continued on nonetheless. "Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition is to grow feathers and become the prancing peacock he emulates..." Lockhart paused, clearly confused that someone was clearly insulting him.
Deciding to move onto the next question, he muttered out aloud, "...ideal gift...Laxative Potion to rid Gilderoy Lockhart of all his..." Lockhart instantly snapped his mouth shut, clearly flustered as he glanced up with a look of utter bewilderment plastered upon his face.
"Aren't you going to read out the rest of my answers, Professor?" Lauren spoke up, her voice coated in a sickly sweet honeyed tone.
Lockhart glanced down at the parchment still clutched in his hand and then back at her. "This was you?"
"Yes."
Lockhart blinked, clearly at a loss of what to do. He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I, um, don't think that would be a good idea, Miss...?"
"Ward. Lauren Ward," she supplied innocently.
Lockhart stared at her for a few moments before he came to his senses. He straightened up and plastered on an obviously fake smile. "Well, I think that is all for today. Class dismissed!"
As the class filed out, Tracey grabbed Lauren by the elbow and steered her into a deserted corridor. "What were you thinking disrespecting a Professor like that, Lauren?!" she demanded.
"Oh please. He'll find a way to twist it in his mind so that in the end he thinks I only wrote flattering things about him. Classic signs of a narcissist."
"He is not a narcissist."
"Tracey, open your damn eyes. You're so blinded with your infatuation with him that you can't see the truth, which is staring you right in the face. He is so full of hot air I'm surprised he hasn't lifted off into the sunset already."
Tracey's chest puffed out and her eyes slanted into slits as she prepared to explode at Lauren.
"Are you two going to stand here bickering all day about some stupid teacher, or are we going to get some lunch?" Draco interrupted in his usual drawl.
Both Lauren and Tracey spun around to see the blonde aristocrat leaning against the wall, his arms crossed loosely over his chest as he observed them with a wicked smile plastered on his face.
Tracey glanced at Lauren and then back at Draco. "He's not some stupid teacher."
"Yeah, he is." Draco was clearly unimpressed by her show of temper.
Tracey eyed Draco, momentarily disarmed in her anger. "Why are you waiting for us? What about your friends Crabbe and Goyle?"
Draco pushed away from the wall and gave a casual shrug. "I'm more interested in hearing the rest of Ward's answers than listening to their stupid ramblings."
Lauren peered keenly at Draco, wondering not for the first time what was happening to cause Draco to prefer their company over those two buffoons.
"I refuse to listen to the two of you disparaging our Professor," Tracey stated, looking pointedly at both Lauren and Draco.
"Then don't listen," Draco remarked.
Tracey huffed in response, crossing her arms over her chest.
Draco's sly grin grew wider. "Oh stop being so uptight, Davis. Maybe you can write him a love poem or something to make him feel better."
A furious red blush blazed upon Tracey's cheeks.
Lauren smirked at her friend's discomfiture. "I think that's a brilliant idea. He'd love that."
"You think?" Tracey asked, glancing up with hope shimmering in those baby blues.
"No," Lauren stated flatly. "Tracey, if you dare try to write him a poem, I'll enchant your quill so that it will only scribble down rude things to him," Lauren warned as she looped her arm through her friend's.
"You don't know such a charm," Tracey countered.
"You wanna risk that chance?" Lauren taunted, a playful tone creeping into her voice.
Tracey muttered darkly. "You're prats. The both of you!"
Draco chuckled and nudged Tracey's shoulder with his own as he came to stand on the other side of her. "It's our job to be prats. That way we can stop you from making a fool of yourself."
Tracey eyed Draco, but realizing she was outnumbered on this, wagged a warning finger in Lauren's face. "Behave yourself around Lockhart, Lauren. I'm warning you."
"You're asking a lot Tracey. If you want that to happen, then I'll have to avoid him altogether."
"Ah come on, Davis. You're going to ruin the entertainment for the rest of us," Draco supplied, mirth dancing in those ice blue eyes.
Tracey shook her head, clearly unimpressed with them, and muttered darkly, "You two are so much alike it's not even funny."
"I take offence to that!" Lauren protested.
"Hey," Draco retorted at the same time. "We are nothing alike."
Tracey shot them both a smug smirk before turning on her heel and leaving to head to lunch. Lauren and Draco stared at each.
"We're nothing alike," Lauren grumbled.
"I second that," Draco affirmed, scrunching up his face.
They shared another look and then decided to follow Tracey to the Great Hall for lunch.
"So what else did you say in that quiz?" Draco whispered conspiratorially, making sure to keep his voice low so that Tracey, who was walking a few feet in front of them, wouldn't overhear.
Lauren flashed him a grin and started retelling some of the answers she could remember. By the time they had reached the Great Hall, Draco was chuckling with unrestrained amusement.
As they seated themselves at the Slytherin table, Draco leaned in and stated in a low voice, "I've been wanting to tell you for a while now, but I've been made Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team."
Lauren paused, her fork of mashed potatoes half-way to her mouth. "Seeker?"
Draco nodded, taking a bite from his roast beef sandwich.
Lauren placed her fork back down in her plate, her meal of bangers and mash momentarily forgotten. "And this has nothing to do with trying to be better than Potter?"
The change in his features was instantaneous, almost as though a dark storm cloud had descended at the mention of Potter. It was confirmation enough for Lauren.
"You don't have to try and prove to everyone that you're better than him, Draco. You're already better in the eyes of those that matter," Lauren pointed out, trying to keep the pity out of her voice. Draco would forever be in Potter's shadow, and he was trying so hard to prove himself.
Draco scowled at her. "I'm not trying to prove anything, except that Potter is nothing special."
"If you think he's nothing special, then why are you trying so hard?"
"Because everyone seems to think that he is!"
Lauren shook her head. "I don't think that, Draco."
Glimpsing the pity writ on her features, Draco's features flushed in an angry red hue. "Your opinion doesn't matter!" With that he threw his sandwich back onto his plate and stormed away.
"Well, that went well," Tracey mused, offering absolutely little to no sympathy. She was still pissed at Lauren for what she had done to Lockhart, this much was evident.
A sigh escaped her lips. Guess I'm in the doghouse with everyone today. Lauren glanced down at her timetable, noting that she had her extra lesson with Snape this evening. Hopefully Severus will be more reasonable than these two hormonal teenagers. Lauren gave a derisive snort at that thought. Not bloody likely.
~oOo~
Five o'clock found Lauren outside the closed Potions classroom door. She rested her forehead against the cool wood, closing her eyes momentarily as her thoughts drifted to the shitty first day of school. She had managed to piss off both Tracey and Draco; the former still acting bristly towards her, and the latter choosing to start a fight with Harry in retaliation. Lauren suspected that Draco was lashing out because of their little spat, and Potter had proven to be the perfect target.
Lauren straightened up. Draco was another problem for another day, though part of her was still troubled that they had squabbled. Why, she could not explain. It wasn't as though she and Draco were particularly close friends, really. But still, it bugged her.
Realizing that she would be late if she lingered, and inadvertently earn herself her very first detention of the year, Lauren raised her hand and gave a firm knock on the hard, unyielding wood of the door.
"Enter, Miss Ward," came Snape's deep baritone from the other side.
Lauren pushed open the door to see Snape seated behind his desk, marking vials of potions lined up in neat rows upon his desk. A sense of pride swelled within her when she noted that he was still using the quill that she had gifted him last Christmas.
Finishing up his marking, Snape placed his quill down and folded his hands in front of him as she approached his desk, his dark, scrutinizing gaze following her progression.
"I would seem that you have had quite a busy day, Miss Ward," he remarked casually.
"No idea what you're talking about."
A slow smile curled his lips, his eyes gleaming. "So you're telling me that I just imagined a rather irate Professor Lockhart brandishing your quiz answers under my nose earlier on?"
Lauren bit her lower lip, more to stop herself from bursting out laughing than anything else.
"He showed you?"
Snape's smile stretched into a sardonic smirk. "He did. Suffice to say, I took great pleasure in reading the remarks you made. I found that, for the first time, I was quite proud of your...insufferable wit, Miss Ward."
Lauren swelled at the veiled compliment. "What did you tell him?"
"Simply that I could not punish a student for telling the truth."
Lauren chuckled out loud. "I wish I could have been there to see his expression when you told him that!"
Snape looked extremely smug, though chose not to comment. But his expression said it all - he had found it highly entertaining, being the sadistic bastard that he was.
Lauren hefted her schoolbag more securely upon her shoulder. "Nice touch giving me Introductory Advanced Potion lessons as a ruse, by the way."
"It was believable enough that you, as my top student, would receive this special tutelage. You will find that not many will question it."
Lauren nodded and glanced around the familiar classroom, now holding a certain appreciation for the decor of pickled specimens, jars of potions, and the stores of potion ingredients lining the various shelves. Each one had an important use, and each were invaluable ingredients for potions. Only one who possessed a true love for the art of potion brewing could appreciate them to the fullest.
Her thoughts drifted to Lockhart and she turned her attention back to Snape. "Out of curiosity, is there a potion to suppress annoying teenage hormones?" she asked.
Snape raised a questioning brow, clearly caught off guard by her question, though to an outsider it would be hard to tell. The rest of his features remained expressionless, only his eyes reflecting his true thoughts, and even then it was near impossible to really tell what he was thinking.
Lauren let out a disgruntled huff. "Tracey is driving me absolutely barmy with her crush over Lockhart. Surely there must be something to, I dunno, suppress it or get rid of it altogether?"
Snape leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of him as he regarded her. "Believe me, Miss Ward, if there was such a potion in creation, I would have doused all of the dunderheads within the walls of this castle by now."
"Good point," Lauren mused. "So are we going to be brewing potions today?"
"No. I have something else in mind. Follow me," Snape instructed as he rose in a smooth motion from his chair.
Snape made his way to the door that led to his private office, and Lauren followed closely behind, anticipation bubbling within her as she wondered what Snape had in mind for today's lesson.
But instead of seating himself behind his desk as she had expected to do, he bypassed it and headed straight to the door on the other side of the room. Lauren's heart started thudding in her chest when she realized that she was now going to enter Snape's personal domain and maybe glean a bit of insight into his personal life. Snape was a fiercely private person and would not appreciate anyone encroaching upon his privacy, so the fact that he was allowing her entrance spoke volumes.
Lauren faltered, her steps slowing to a halt.
With his long-fingered hand curled around the door handle, Snape paused, sensing her hesitation, and glanced over his shoulder at her.
"Something troubling you, Miss Ward?" he intoned.
"No. Nothing. Just realized that I am about to enter your personal living quarters..." Lauren trailed off, distinctly aware that she was starting to babble.
"And?"
Lauren sighed and ran her fingers through her mass of waves. "It just feels like I'm...intruding."
Snape levelled her with a stern look. "I have invited you inside, therefore it is not an intrusion. I would have thought that with your particular lack of social etiquette, encroaching upon someone's territory would be the least of your concerns."
Lauren's chin shot up ans she glared back at him. Snape raised a brow, silently challenging her to contradict him.
"Fine. Lead the way," she stated, motioning with her hand for him to continue onward.
Snape smirked at her, almost as though he had won a small victory. He opened the door and motioned for her to precede him. Snape, for all his abrupt churlishness, certainly retained a certain amount of chivalry.
Lauren steeled herself and entered the room, her steps slowing as she took in her surroundings. It certainly wasn't what she had expected.
Admittedly, Lauren had been preparing to walk into a cold dungeon-like setting, chains and whips included. Well, something along those lines. Definitely not this.
A crackling fire was burning invitingly within the hearth and, as her gaze wandered, Lauren spied pieces of ornaments upon the mantle that were distinctively curious and interesting. Lauren suspected that not only were they appeasing to the eye, but were also practical and useful. She itched to take a closer look but knew Snape would not appreciate her nosing around.
A comfy looking armchair of a moss green hue, complete with a matching ottoman, was placed strategically in front of the fireplace, along with a plush loveseat off to the side. Lauren sensed that the armchair had offered hours of comfortable leisure while Snape sat with a book in his lap, passing the evening hours in relaxed silence and letting the trying day that had just passed ebb away.
Nestled between the armchair and loveseat was a small oval shaped side table, upon which rested a book, a bookmark poking out from the depths of the numerous pages.
The entire wall to their left had been converted into a bookshelf, the well-worn covers foretelling that these books had been perused numerous times over, and were well-loved and cherished. Snape was a man who valued knowledge, and his book collection was but a minuscule insight into the man behind the dark and unreadable mask.
Lauren noted an empty slot where a book had once resided, and she realized that the book Snape had gifted her had once belonged here amongst his many treasured tomes. The fact that he had given her something so personal and cherished stole her very breath.
A thick and plush area rug carpeted the cold stone floor in silver and forest green, and the low burning lamps added to the warm glow of the fire, giving the room a homely feel. Something she would never have associated with Snape.
It's nothing like Spinners End. Maybe this is the only place he can be truly comfortable...
Lauren noted two doors to their right, and she could only guess that one of them led to Snape's bedroom.
Severus strode past her, ignoring her open-mouthed gaping, and headed towards the third door positioned on the other side of the room.
"You look at a loss for words, Miss Ward. Were you, perhaps, expecting something else?" Snape drawled snidely, shooting her a knowing look, almost as though he had read her mind. Or maybe her stumped expression gave her away.
"Kinda. Yeah," Lauren admitted, snapping out of her stupor.
"I am well aware of my reputation and how others view me, as well as what they expect of me, Miss Ward," Snape stated as he opened the door and waited for her to walk in. "Now cease your dawdling and follow me."
Lauren cast one more lingering look at the interior of the room before following him down a spiralled stone stairway, finally coming out to a room that was of a respectable size, but completely empty and devoid of any furnishings, save for a few lanterns illuminating the interior.
"Well, this is...cozy," Lauren mused aloud, shooting Snape a questioning look.
"This room usually serves as my personal laboratory, but I have cleared it for our lessons," Snape explained as he brushed past her and walked further into the echoingly empty room, his hands clasped behind his back.
"And what are our lessons going to be?" Lauren asked.
Snape turned around and smirked down at her. "I do recall that you requested to duel against Lockhart. Even though he is a blundering idiot, I think practise is in order if you wish to go up against him."
Lauren's eyes widened at the implication of his words. "Really? We're going to be practising duelling?" Her excitement immediately gave way to dread when past memories resurfaced. "Bugger. This is going to be as bad as it was over the summer holidays, isn't it?" She still hadn't forgotten the very many times she had woken up feeling as though she had had a run-in with a freight train, not to mention some of the more nasty hexes Snape had sent flying her way.
"If you have retained most of what I have taught you thus far, then maybe not," he sneered back, his usual lack of sympathy not comforting in the least.
Lauren groaned, knowing full well that her fate was already sealed and it was no use fighting him on this, especially since she had asked for it in the first place. "Well, I hope you have loads of pain potion and healing balm on hand. I don't want to have to try and explain how I got beat up when I was supposed to be doing Introductory Advanced Potion brewing."
"I'll heal you afterwards."
"How kind of you," Lauren retorted sarcastically.
His smirk broadened, and Lauren shook her head.
"Sadistic bastard," she muttered under her breath.
"What was that?" he asked, his voice lowering in pitch and sounding perversely dangerous.
"Nothing," Lauren quipped.
Snape eyed her with those dark, fathomless eyes that could unnerve or spellbind her, depending on his mood. Then coming to a decision he shrugged out of his outer robe and hung it upon a hook on the wall before returning back to position. He now stood before her in his many buttoned cloak, that extra layer of protective black now noticeably absent.
Lauren eyed his slim, lithe form and not for the first time she was reminded of a panther ready to pounce and strike its prey. And right now, she was very much his prey.
Lauren, deciding it was best to get on with it, placed her book bag to the side and shrugged out of her own robe, folding it neatly before laying it upon her bag.
She then took her position in front of him, withdrawing her wand from its sheath strapped to her forearm. Snape's sharp gaze followed her every movement, and she thought she glimpsed a hint of approval in his dark eyes at the fact that she was putting his gift to good use.
"Ready?"
"Nope," came her instant reply. "But I don't really have a choice, do I?"
"No." A cruel smile accompanied that simple clipped word as he levelled her with a penetrating look, causing Lauren's stomach to flip over in a mixture of dread and something else that that she could not name.
"Try not to kill me," she murmured as she took up the duelling stance, her wand pointed and ready.
"As tempting as that thought is, I have not fired any hex or spell at you that I didn't think you could handle, Miss Ward. You need to trust that I will instruct you the best way I see fit and will not cause you lasting harm."
Lauren eyed him, realizing that he spoke the truth. As difficult as it was to comprehend, Snape was an excellent teacher, even though his teaching methods left much to be desired. But he was instructive nonetheless, and she had to admit that she had learned a great deal from him. Snape did not baby her and, in turn, her reflexes and shielding had improved exponentially, not to mention that she was vastly improving in spell casting.
And, admittedly, he had not, in the past, ever fired a hex that had caused long lasting or excruciating pain. And she knew that he could have done so if he had really wanted to.
"I trust you," she finally stated.
Something unreadable flashed within the depths of his obsidian eyes, but in a split second later his features were schooled back into an unreadable mask.
"Then let us begin."
Two hours later Lauren sat slouched in a chair Snape had conjured for her, grimacing at the various aches that coursed through her body. The pain was bearable, the ache bordering on that of a strenuous exercise session.
"I regret asking you to teach me how to duel."
"Maybe," Snape remarked as he applied a healing salve to a bruise that was blossoming upon her cheek, "but you won't regret it in years to come, Miss Ward."
Lauren flinched as he turned his attention to a shallow cut upon her neck, his cool fingertips coating the salve upon it. Both were currently heavily Occluding and, as such, Lauren only sensed a slight tingling reaction to his touch. She had to hold her breath or otherwise become overwhelmed by his intoxicating scent, though.
Snape stepped back, twisting the lid back on the jar of salve as he eyed her critically. As his gaze landed on the bruise, some indiscernible emotion glinted in his eyes, and he turned his head away, almost as though in guilt.
"Drink this," he instructed, withdrawing a vial of pain potion from the depths of his pocket before handing it to her.
Lauren drank it down in one gulp, feeling immediately better as the pain subsided into blissful oblivion. Sensing that their lesson was now at an end, she rose from her seat to collect her bag.
"Do not think I garner any enjoyment from causing you pain, Miss Ward," his softly spoken words floated back to her, causing Lauren to stutter to a halt, thinking she had imagined those words.
She glanced over her shoulder in time to see the protective walls fall back in place, but not before she had glimpsed a certain vulnerability shining through his features for that split second. Then Snape snapped back into Dungeon Master mode and he gave her a curt nod of dismissal.
"Good night, Miss Ward. I trust you can see yourself out."
Lauren closed her mouth, knowing the moment had passed, and she nodded in return. She turned to leave, but then thought, what the hell.
"I know you don't enjoy hurting me, Professor Snape. I...just wanted you to know that. I know that you are doing this to help me."
Something unreadable flashed within his eyes and Lauren gave him a small, sad smile before exiting the room, leaving Snape behind and alone with his thoughts.
~oOo~
The following days flew by, the students soon settling into their new school routine. Lauren and Snape's duelling lessons continued on as normal, both choosing to ignore that moment that had passed the initial lesson and pretend it never happened. Though there was no doubt that both of them remembered it clearly.
Lauren's 'thirteenth' birthday arrived that following Saturday morning and, as she lay in bed staring up at the canopy of her bed, she couldn't help but let her thoughts mull over her predicament.
I should be turning thirty-two years old, not thirteen! she thought grouchily as she punched her pillow into shape before snuggling back under the warm covers. I'm a bloody teenager all over again.
It felt as though she had just closed her eyes when the covers were flung back forcibly.
"What the fu -."
"Language, Lauren," Tracey scolded before Lauren could finish her cussing.
Lauren glared at her before muttering, "Yes, mum." She rubbed tiredly at her face before asking, "Why are you waking me up so early? It's Saturday."
"Well it's not my fault that your birthday fell on the weekend, Lauren" Tracey retorted, settling upon the bed beside her. She thrust out a small square box towards Lauren. "Happy Birthday!"
Lauren struggled up, accepting the gift from her friend's outstretched hand. "What is it?"
"Open it and find out," Tracey urged.
Glimpsing the concealed anticipation gleaming just behind the reserved facade her friend usually wore, Lauren found she could not deny her request and opened the box to reveal a thin silver bracelet with little charms dangling from it. Lauren smiled when she spied a witch's hat and a cauldron among them.
"It's beautiful. Thank you," Lauren stated, and she meant every word of it. The fact that it wasn't an expensive gift didn't mean anything to her. It was the point that Tracey had thought about her, especially on her birthday, that meant the world to her, and a deep, profound sense of affection for the other girl enveloped Lauren.
They made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast, Draco noticeably absent, but it was still early and Lauren wasn't too concerned, though she had grown used to Blondie now joining her and Tracey wherever possible.
Just as Lauren dished up a plate of bacon and cheese omelette, Artemis came swooping into the hall, gliding like black smoke towards the table before landing with elegance upon Lauren's shoulder, rubbing his beak affectionately against her cheek in greeting.
"Hello, Artemis," Lauren cooed, picking out some bacon from her omelette and giving it to him. Artemis gave a rough caw and gobbled up the offering greedily. "Come to wish me a happy birthday then, did you?"
The raven gave a croaking sound in the back of his throat before nuzzling her cheek again. She stroked the smooth silken feather along his head and back before Artemis decided he had had enough and took off again is a graceful flight of pitch black out through the open doors of the Great Hall.
"Was that your raven?" came a familiar drawl and Lauren glanced up to see Draco approaching the table, followed by the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team, all decked out in their training gear and clutching brand new brooms in their hands.
"Yeah," Lauren admitted.
"Cool," he exclaimed as he plopped down next to her and snatched a slice of toast from her plate, reflectively avoiding the smack she aimed at his thieving hand.
"So you've joined the Quidditch team then?" Lauren remarked, hoping that he had at least considered her words the previous week.
"Obviously," Tracey stated without glancing up from her book. "The Quidditch uniform and brooms are a dead give away, Lauren."
"Har, har," Lauren said with dripping sarcasm. "I realize that, Tracey. Thank you very much. What I want to know is why you chose to do so, Draco?"
Draco shrugged as he bit into his stolen buttered toast. "Why not."
Lauren eyed him. "And it has nothing to do with trying to one-up Potter, does it?"
Draco swallowed his mouthful and levelled her with a look of his own. "Are you going to try and tell me that I'm being silly again?"
A few moments passed. From the corner of her eye Lauren could see Tracey peering at the two of them over the top of her book, waiting with bated breath as to what was going to happen next.
Lauren knew this could go either of two ways. She could, indeed, tell him he was being childish and have him angry at her again, which shouldn't really bother her. But for some unfathomable reason, Lauren found that she didn't really want to rock the boat with their newfound and unusual friendship.
She decided to go for option two.
"No, Draco. I've had my say and you know my opinion on the matter," she stated as tactfully as she could, which was a feat in itself as Lauren lacked tact altogether. "So, instead, I am going to offer my support and encouragement, and wish you the best of luck."
Draco took another bite of his toast and as he chewed his mouthful, he watched her with thoughtfulness gleaming in those ice-blue eyes. After he had swallowed his mouthful he gave her a cunning smile and asked, "Will you come and watch me play during the next Quidditch match?"
Lauren groaned. "Nope. Absolutely not. You know that I don't particularly like Quidditch, Draco."
"Yes," he remarked slyly. "But as a friend it's good to offer your support."
Lauren narrowed her eyes at the fact that he had just turned her words against her.
Why that sneaky little son of a...
An annoyed huff expelled from her lips. "Fine. Fine. You win. I'll be there."
His grin broadened, and Lauren realized in that moment that he really had wanted her to be there to show her support.
Draco wolfed down the rest of his toast before standing. "Later, Ward. Davis."
He then followed the rest of the Slytherin team out through the open doors of the Great Hall, no doubt to head to the Quidditch pitch to practise, and where Lauren knew a fight would break out between him, Harry and Ron at the insult flung at Hermione – and Ron's wand backfiring and causing him to spew up thick, slimy slugs as a result.
Lauren shook her head and paused when she saw Tracey eyeing her speculatively.
"What?"
A small, knowing smile graced Tracey's lips. "It's just weird that you and Draco hated each other in the beginning and now look at you two. You're becoming quite chummy with him."
"Am not," Lauren replied churlishly. "If anything, it's him that is becoming chummy with me."
That all-knowing smirk broadened on Tracey's features. "Okay. If you say so."
Lauren glared at her friend, which Tracey promptly ignored. After breakfast they decided to take a walk around the Black Lake, and Lauren had to go back to her dorm room to collect a suitable sweater for the air outside had turned crisp and overcast.
She entered her room and went straight to her closet to retrieve said sweater when her gaze landed on a small black square box resting upon her nightstand. Lauren frowned, for it hadn't been there earlier this morning.
There was only one person she knew who would sneakily leave a gift lying around instead of giving it her personally.
She picked it up, the box feeling feather-light, and cautiously opened the lid. Inside lay a small orb shaped obsidian pendant, the gleaming black instantly reminding Lauren of a certain Potion Master's dark, fathomless eyes.
Beneath the pendant lay a crisp folded white note and Lauren plucked it up to read it.
Obsidian ~ a strongly protective stone.
Happy Birthday, Miss Ward. S.
Lauren glanced back at the small pendant, stunned that Severus Snape had not only remembered her birthday, but had also purchased her a gift. And by the looks of it, it would fit perfectly on her new charm bracelet.
Lauren clipped it on and admired the black standing out in stark contrast with the rest of the silver gleaming charms.
How did he know that Tracey had given me a charm bracelet for my birthday?
Lauren mulled it over for a few seconds, but realized it was useless trying to decipher Snape's motives and secrets. All she aware of was that a lightness had now seeped through her body right down to her core, causing a wide smile to blossom upon her face and making her feel giddy and lightheaded with euphoria.
Oh stop it, Lauren. Now you're starting to act like Tracey...
Lauren froze instantly at that thought, the meaning of these odd feelings these past few months hitting her square in the chest with stark realization, and stealing the very breath from her lungs.
No...But that would mean...Lauren swallowed hard, visibly paling. That would mean...Dear god!
Lauren ran her fingers through her waves, agitation replacing that euphoric feeling from moments ago.
That would mean that I have a crush on Severus Snape!
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