Thank's everyone for reviewing; and to whoever recommended my story. I've just begun another story called 'Tonight's The Night', which is a Hermione romance - in case you're interested.
Celtic Elf - the object that Snape picked up was Andi's mini vibrator.
CHAPTER FIVE
SMALL TALK
At five minutes to eight she was bathed, cooled, relaxed and dressed.
She had spent a long time soaking in the sunken bath, luxuriating in the opulent surroundings and the curiously relaxing aroma of the bath oils.
The room, as her bedroom, was lit by torches ensconced on the walls, and the reflection of their flames in the mirrors, was wonderfully hypnotic.
Her dark, shoulder length hair, for once had behaved itself and curled nicely into her neck without the need to threaten it with tongs - not that she could here, anyhow.
Even as she had stood looking into the wardrobe, deciding what to wear, she had wondered why she was taking so much trouble. Perhaps it was his disdainful attitude towards her that fed the need to prove something - that she was an adult who could meet him on equal terms, rather than being at a disadvantage because she was a...what did they call her...a 'Muggle'.
At one minute to eight, she let herself out of her room and walked down the corridor, counting the doors. On the third one, she knocked.
He opened the door to her.
"You found the room and you are on time," he said, in a tone that immediately reduced her to pupil status.
He moved to the chair at the right hand side of the table and pulled it away, indicating she should sit.
'Think Katharine Hepburn; think Katharine Hepburn,' she chanted to herself, and strode elegantly towards the proffered chair.
She had chosen to wear a silver-grey sleeveless silk dress. It was ankle-length - which should cut the quips about her dress-code - with a slightly full skirt that swished around as she walked.
As demurely as she knew how, she lowered herself into the chair. Snape sat to her right, at the head of the table.
"We have lamb," he announced, indicating the dishes before them. "Please help yourself."
"How ve-ry kind, Professor." No, no, no! THINK Katharine Hepburn, not BE her.
"Wine?"
They filled their plates and began eating in silence. Andi found the silence awkward but, flicking her eyes towards Snape each time she drank some wine, realised he was quite content with the lack of conversation.
She was all ready half way down the rather large glass, drinking quickly out of nerves. She took an extra large gulp of wine and licked her lips.
"It's good wine," she ventured.
"Yes, we are fortunate to have an extensive wine cellar here," he said, absently.
Another long silence broken only by the chink of cutlery on china. She couldn't stand this.
"Do you ever dine to music?" she asked, hopefully.
"Not if I can help it, Miss Carver."
She took another mouthful of wine. Clearing her throat, she said, nervously, "Exactly what is it you teach, Professor Snape?"
His eyes shot towards her briefly. "Potions."
"Oh. Which is...?"
He put down his wine glass carefully. "Which is a rather trite attempt to engage in small-talk, Miss Carver. A custom which I abhor."
She sat there, stunned at such a vitriolic reply. Gathering her wits, she said quietly,
"Professor, I realise I'm an inconvenience to you..." He stared at her, coldly. "and trust me, given the choice, I'd rather be sitting at home watching repeats of Big Brother; but as we have been forced into each other's company, wouldn't it be a more pleasant experience for us both if we tried to get along...?"
He leaned on one elbow, resting his chin on the back of long fingers as he regarded her for a moment. "Very well..." he said, and she smiled with relief, not noticing the glint of malicious amusement in his eyes. "Perhaps I could begin by asking you a few questions?"
"Yes?"
"I am rather curious - exactly what is the function of the 'Pocket Pleaser' which I retrieved from your bedroom floor earlier?"
She felt herself colour.
Bastard!
She took another gulp of wine to cover her embarrassment, and as she felt it slip down, warming her with the stirrings of intoxication, she decided she was not going to allow this man to intimidate her.
"Surely you're not that naive, Professor?" she said, sweetly. "Even I've realised, wizards can be wankers, too."
There was a raw silence as they stared at each other, and then the corner of his mouth twitched and he inclined his head.
"Your next question would be...?" she snapped.
"How old are you, Miss Carver?"
"Twenty-seven. How old are you?" she shot back.
"You wear no wedding ring," he said, ignoring her. "but I imagine there are people who will worry at your absence?"
She opened her mouth to reply, but closed it again and stared at her wine glass. The question had taken the wind completely out of her sails. She looked up at him and wondered if the enquiry had been calculated. He seemed to have an uncanny ability to get under her skin.
"Actually, no," she said, quietly. "There's no one." She drained her glass and realised her brain was beginning to fog. She felt his eyes upon her, as though he could see into her thoughts.
"I broke up with my boyfriend recently," she said, the wine loosening her tongue. "I don't know my parents. My mother never bothered to ask my father's name and I haven't seen her since I was three. I was brought up by my grandmother. She died two years ago." Andi swallowed a lump in her throat as she thought of her grandmother. "My friends assume I'm on holiday...so to answer your question, Professor, no one gives a shit about me right now." She gave him a wry smile. When he said nothing, she continued,
"It's been a very strange day," She folded her napkin and put it on the table. "and I think we've exhausted the small talk..." Her eyes flickered towards him and it satisfied her to see his mouth twitch again. "I think I should go to bed..."