Chapter 2
Thursday, Sunday, D - Day
"What time is it?" Samantha asked Jillian as they finished eating their blackberry pie. She glanced at her wristwatch.
"Seven fifty eight. Why?" she asked.
"Oh crap! I have to go!" Samantha jumped up, grabbed her bag, and fled the Great Hall without so much as an explanation. She ran through the entrance hall and down to the dungeons, taking the steps two at a time.
By the time she got to Snape's office she was panting. She knocked on the door. To her relief, she got an answer.
"Enter." He called. She turned the doorknob and went in. "It is eight and one minute, you do realize that?"
"Sorry I'm late." She muttered, still standing by the door. She had finally caught her breath.
"Sit." He ordered. She sat. He looked into the depths of her pretty indigo eyes with his shiny black ones. She got out a paper and a quill and, instead of leaning over to write on his desk, she used her book bag instead. He smirked. She stared up at Snape, her head bent limply, her quill poised.
"The Salvation Salve," he began quickly. "Is used for the relief of nightmares, delirium, and migraine headaches." He paused to savor the beads of sweat appearing on her forehead as she wrote feverishly. "The ingredients are very rare, and that is why most people don't bother with it. That and it is extremely difficult to concoct. The list includes the yolk of a chimera egg, dragon liver, unicorn heart, three hairs off the mane of a kappa, water from the Arctic Ocean, an inch of vine from the Devil's Snare, doxy venom, and the wing of a female fairy. These ingredients must be stewed on the night of a full moon in a copper cauldron..." He went on and on, explaining every aspect of the potion. She furiously scribbled notes the whole time. He never allowed her mercy, never allowed her to rest, not even for a second.
But when he was finally finished, she stopped to look up. For a moment they stared at each other plainly, neither daring to break the gaze. But then, quick as it had come, the moment was over.
"What are you staring at?" they sneered in unison.
"Nothing." They replied, again in unison.
"Ugh!" they both seethed in frustration.
"Goodbye." He told her.
"I'm already leaving." She growled.
The first lesson had not gone as smoothly as I planned. Just as I predicted, she was going to be a tough one to break. She was tough anyways. She had simply let all my criticism bounce off of her, and then fired back with all the spite I had first acknowledged her with. It annoyed me, and I think she knew that. She was clever that way.
After class the next day, I had told her to meet me that Sunday night at the same time. Though I reminded her I would not wait for her if she were late again, I knew I would wait. The opportunity to break a person is always too good to miss.
And now Sunday night had finally rolled around. I found myself thinking of the session with a strange feeling of excitement and disgust. I pictured the tears streaming down her face, her face crumpled and broken, her cheeks red. It made me smile, yet at the same time, I felt horrified at myself. I knew I had to stop this, hurting other people for pleasure, but I just couldn't seem to.
At precisely eight o' clock, I heard a meek knock on the door. I smiled.
"Enter." I barked. When she came in, I gasped. "Miss Fox, why is your hair blue?"
She grinned. "Well, I really –"
"No, never mind. Why are you wearing pajamas?"
"I just woke up."
"From what, may I ask?"
"I've become nocturnal, Professor Snape."
"Nocturnal?" I snorted. "What about class?"
"I'm only nocturnal on the weekends, Professor." She assured me. Then it hit me; she was doing this only to annoy me. My face turned calloused and the smile slipped right off her face.
"Sit down. I have no time for your shenanigans. As I told you, my time is precious, and right now it is being wasted by you." She looked down, knowing her plan had failed, and sat in her usual chair. Her blue hair fell in front of her face as she rummaged through her bag. I noticed that it matched her beautiful eyes perfectly.
Shaking these thoughts from my head, I started to speak as she got situated with her quill and parchment.
"...and that is why sloth fingers are vital to the Banishing Potion." He finished. Samantha put down her quill, tucked the parchment away, and eventually put the quill away too.
"Fascinating!" she smiled dryly. "I always thought chicken fingers were the vital ingredient!"
He glared at her. "Your sarcasm is becoming tiresome, Miss Fox, so I suggest you refrain from it."
"How ironic." She snorted. Snape did not reply. She took out her wand, transfigured her pajamas into her normal school clothes, changed her hair back to its normal color, put her wand away, got up, and walked out.
- - -
Snape had just finished his lecture. It was Thursday, and Samantha's third Remedial Potions session was about to end.
"Now, Fox, tell me, why is the ingredient compound of an oyster skin crucial to the effects of a Enclosing Potion?"
Samantha racked her brain. He had said this earlier! She knew it, she knew she did –
"Miss Fox, I asked you a question."
"Er –"
"Miss Fox!"
"I KNOW, I KNOW! JUST GIVE ME A SECOND TO THINK!" she shouted. He stood back and looked at her with an icy disdain.
"Do not shout at me, Miss Fox. Do you think you don't have to show any respect for me? Do you think you are any different from your peers?" He asked her malignantly. "Answer me!"
"I am different from my peers," she said in a restrained voice. "In the respect that I refuse to kiss your ass!"
They were silent for a moment, then he spoke in a calm, controlled voice.
"That kind of language," he said, his nostrils flaring. "Will get you nowhere but detention. Now please gather your things and get out of my office. I will see you again next Sunday."
She looked at him for a moment, her eyes watering, then grabbed her bag and left. She walked calmly to the dormitory, resisting the urge to run, run and not look back.
When she arrived at her room, no one was there but her owl named Perseus. He was a lovely horned owl. He was currently perched on the top of her green and silver four-poster bed. She whistled and he fluttered down to land on her forearm. Samantha stroked him lightly.
"Oh, Perseus," she sighed, pacing the dormitory. "Why does the only person that can help me succeed have to be such an asshole?"
The owl, which didn't seem to have an answer, hooted and nipped one of her fingers. She fished an Owl Treat out of her trunk and let him eat it out of the palm of her hand. She sighed again.
"Sometimes I think there's no way out, don't you?" she asked.
He hooted in agreement.
Thursday, Sunday, D - Day
"What time is it?" Samantha asked Jillian as they finished eating their blackberry pie. She glanced at her wristwatch.
"Seven fifty eight. Why?" she asked.
"Oh crap! I have to go!" Samantha jumped up, grabbed her bag, and fled the Great Hall without so much as an explanation. She ran through the entrance hall and down to the dungeons, taking the steps two at a time.
By the time she got to Snape's office she was panting. She knocked on the door. To her relief, she got an answer.
"Enter." He called. She turned the doorknob and went in. "It is eight and one minute, you do realize that?"
"Sorry I'm late." She muttered, still standing by the door. She had finally caught her breath.
"Sit." He ordered. She sat. He looked into the depths of her pretty indigo eyes with his shiny black ones. She got out a paper and a quill and, instead of leaning over to write on his desk, she used her book bag instead. He smirked. She stared up at Snape, her head bent limply, her quill poised.
"The Salvation Salve," he began quickly. "Is used for the relief of nightmares, delirium, and migraine headaches." He paused to savor the beads of sweat appearing on her forehead as she wrote feverishly. "The ingredients are very rare, and that is why most people don't bother with it. That and it is extremely difficult to concoct. The list includes the yolk of a chimera egg, dragon liver, unicorn heart, three hairs off the mane of a kappa, water from the Arctic Ocean, an inch of vine from the Devil's Snare, doxy venom, and the wing of a female fairy. These ingredients must be stewed on the night of a full moon in a copper cauldron..." He went on and on, explaining every aspect of the potion. She furiously scribbled notes the whole time. He never allowed her mercy, never allowed her to rest, not even for a second.
But when he was finally finished, she stopped to look up. For a moment they stared at each other plainly, neither daring to break the gaze. But then, quick as it had come, the moment was over.
"What are you staring at?" they sneered in unison.
"Nothing." They replied, again in unison.
"Ugh!" they both seethed in frustration.
"Goodbye." He told her.
"I'm already leaving." She growled.
The first lesson had not gone as smoothly as I planned. Just as I predicted, she was going to be a tough one to break. She was tough anyways. She had simply let all my criticism bounce off of her, and then fired back with all the spite I had first acknowledged her with. It annoyed me, and I think she knew that. She was clever that way.
After class the next day, I had told her to meet me that Sunday night at the same time. Though I reminded her I would not wait for her if she were late again, I knew I would wait. The opportunity to break a person is always too good to miss.
And now Sunday night had finally rolled around. I found myself thinking of the session with a strange feeling of excitement and disgust. I pictured the tears streaming down her face, her face crumpled and broken, her cheeks red. It made me smile, yet at the same time, I felt horrified at myself. I knew I had to stop this, hurting other people for pleasure, but I just couldn't seem to.
At precisely eight o' clock, I heard a meek knock on the door. I smiled.
"Enter." I barked. When she came in, I gasped. "Miss Fox, why is your hair blue?"
She grinned. "Well, I really –"
"No, never mind. Why are you wearing pajamas?"
"I just woke up."
"From what, may I ask?"
"I've become nocturnal, Professor Snape."
"Nocturnal?" I snorted. "What about class?"
"I'm only nocturnal on the weekends, Professor." She assured me. Then it hit me; she was doing this only to annoy me. My face turned calloused and the smile slipped right off her face.
"Sit down. I have no time for your shenanigans. As I told you, my time is precious, and right now it is being wasted by you." She looked down, knowing her plan had failed, and sat in her usual chair. Her blue hair fell in front of her face as she rummaged through her bag. I noticed that it matched her beautiful eyes perfectly.
Shaking these thoughts from my head, I started to speak as she got situated with her quill and parchment.
"...and that is why sloth fingers are vital to the Banishing Potion." He finished. Samantha put down her quill, tucked the parchment away, and eventually put the quill away too.
"Fascinating!" she smiled dryly. "I always thought chicken fingers were the vital ingredient!"
He glared at her. "Your sarcasm is becoming tiresome, Miss Fox, so I suggest you refrain from it."
"How ironic." She snorted. Snape did not reply. She took out her wand, transfigured her pajamas into her normal school clothes, changed her hair back to its normal color, put her wand away, got up, and walked out.
- - -
Snape had just finished his lecture. It was Thursday, and Samantha's third Remedial Potions session was about to end.
"Now, Fox, tell me, why is the ingredient compound of an oyster skin crucial to the effects of a Enclosing Potion?"
Samantha racked her brain. He had said this earlier! She knew it, she knew she did –
"Miss Fox, I asked you a question."
"Er –"
"Miss Fox!"
"I KNOW, I KNOW! JUST GIVE ME A SECOND TO THINK!" she shouted. He stood back and looked at her with an icy disdain.
"Do not shout at me, Miss Fox. Do you think you don't have to show any respect for me? Do you think you are any different from your peers?" He asked her malignantly. "Answer me!"
"I am different from my peers," she said in a restrained voice. "In the respect that I refuse to kiss your ass!"
They were silent for a moment, then he spoke in a calm, controlled voice.
"That kind of language," he said, his nostrils flaring. "Will get you nowhere but detention. Now please gather your things and get out of my office. I will see you again next Sunday."
She looked at him for a moment, her eyes watering, then grabbed her bag and left. She walked calmly to the dormitory, resisting the urge to run, run and not look back.
When she arrived at her room, no one was there but her owl named Perseus. He was a lovely horned owl. He was currently perched on the top of her green and silver four-poster bed. She whistled and he fluttered down to land on her forearm. Samantha stroked him lightly.
"Oh, Perseus," she sighed, pacing the dormitory. "Why does the only person that can help me succeed have to be such an asshole?"
The owl, which didn't seem to have an answer, hooted and nipped one of her fingers. She fished an Owl Treat out of her trunk and let him eat it out of the palm of her hand. She sighed again.
"Sometimes I think there's no way out, don't you?" she asked.
He hooted in agreement.