Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, events and/or places that are recognized as being written and created by J.K. Rowling. J.K. Rowling owns all the characters and places from the Harry Potter books including the ones used in this story.
A/N: Thanks for the reviews!! :D
"Severus?"
"Hello Cleopatra."
Clea blinked her eyes slowly at the man standing in front of her. Not a muscle on Clea's body twitched; she just stood there, staring.
It has been even longer than fourteen years since she laid her eyes on Severus Snape. After he graduated from Hogwarts, Clea never even saw him again. Snape looked exactly the same as he did back then. The same greasy black hair, the same sickly complexion and the same sneer that always made Clea slightly scared of him.
"Are we going to stand here staring at each other all day?" Snape said dryly. Clea stumbled back and allowed Snape entrance into her apartment.
As she closed the door, Clea got a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her deep brown eyes were still slightly red and very puffy. Her dark hair was a complete mess, but being that it was a short bob cut, it pulled off messy quite well. But even more horrifying to her, was that she was still wearing her tight, spaghetti strapped black night gown; revealing way to much skin. Not the way she wished to be seen by anyone, let alone Severus Snape.
"Are you all right, Cleopatra?" Snape said impatiently. Clea stopped adjusting herself in the mirror and walked over towards him.
"Of course," Clea lied. She smiled at Snape but couldn't get the smile to stick to her face. Her mind raced with so many questions. Snape was the last person Clea had ever thought would pay her a visit. "What are you doing here?"
"I was sent here," said Snape. He stood in the middle of Clea's apartment. His hands uncomfortably folded in front of him.
"You were sent here?" Clea asked, dumbfounded with confusion. She thought for a moment that Sirius might have sent him; but then again, even if Snape and Sirius were fighting on the same side, nothing short of death would get them to speak civilly to each other. Clea sank down onto her sofa. "By whom?" she asked him, unsure if she wanted to hear the truth.
Clea apprehensively patted her hand on the sofa, implying that Snape sat down also. Deep down, she wasn't really afraid of him at all.
Snape didn't move though. He stood there with his eyes slowly darting around the small apartment. They took in the black furniture, the blood red walls, and finally the lone picture of Sirius that was clearly from the Daily Prophet, perched up on the mantle.
"Albus Dumbledore," Snape finally answered, dragging his eyes away from the photo and focusing them on Clea.
"Dumbledore..." Clea whispered. "Why would Dumbledore send you here?"
"Because of him most likely," Snape nodded towards the mantle. "He didn't exactly say why. He told me where I would find you and that it was of the utmost importance that he spoke to you."
"Why didn't he come himself?" Clea asked.
"He's a busy man, Cleopatra," Snape replied, swaying a little but still refusing to sit down.
Clea suddenly sprang up from her seat with a sudden shudder of realization. "Why is Dumbledore even speaking to you?" She asked without thinking. "I thought you were a Death Eater."
Snape stared at her. The blood drained from his all ready pale face. "That's none of your business, Cleopatra," Snape said quietly, but in a deadly voice that closed the subject for Clea.
"Sorry," she said, turning away from him. She remembered Remus telling her a long time ago, that Snape became a Death Eater. Even though Snape was obsessed with the Dark Arts at school, Clea still remembered finding that bit of news hard to believe; and extremely hard to force herself to believe.
"Never mind," Snape said. "Get your things together so I can take you to Dumbledore."
Clea hesitated for a second. Her brain automatically started to list reasons for why she should not go with him. In the end she nodded her head and turned away from him; what do I have to lose anyways? She thought.
Clea began to walk away but she stopped when she realized that she didn't know what she should be bringing.
"Severus,"---Snape, who was staring out the window made a sound in his throat that Clea took as a sign that he was listening---"what do I need to have with me?"
"I don't know," Snape said, spinning around to face Clea. "But perhaps you would like to greet your former headmaster wearing more than a night dress." Snape's eyes scanned Clea's body. Her face blushed and she suddenly felt extremely naked.
After about fifteen minutes, Clea emerged from her bedroom. What she was wearing was not really any better than her night dress. She had on light blue silky robes that hugged her curves, until the dress got to her knees where it belled out slightly and cascaded to the floor. Clea learned fast that at Beauxbatons, you're the favorite teacher if you're the most fashionable one. Therefore, no frock-like robes hung in her closet.
As Clea walked into the sitting room, she noticed Snape hunched over her table fingering through her formally neat pile of parchments.
"Hey!" Clea shouted at him and in one arm full, scooped up the entire pile. "I'll ask you nicely not to rummage through my things. Thank you."
"I just wanted to see how you write your lesson plans," Snape said.
"Well, ask than." Clea practically hissed. "Why do you want to know that anyways?" She asked, locking up her plans in a cabinet.
"I'm a professor too."
"You're a professor?" Clea asked, ignoring the fact that she couldn't recall even telling Snape what she did for a living. "Of what? Wait let me guess...the Dark Arts?"
Snape's upper lip curled. "Potions," he said.
Clea's face softened into an approving surprised look. "That's good, Severus."
"Don't misunderstand me Cleopatra," Snape said, stepping closer to her. "I teach Potions because I'm excellent at it, not because I like it."
Clea felt extremely uncomfortable. Snape's warm breath hit her directly on her face. He was standing way to close. "Shouldn't we be going now?" she whispered, knots forming in her stomach.
Snape nodded and slowly stepped away from Clea and towards her front door.
Clea looked around her home. She felt nervous and scared. Her eyes began searching for something, anything that would send her off with a comforting sign. Her gaze lingered for a moment on the picture of Sirius. He blinked at her, but offered her no confidence.
Still feeling twangs of butterflies in her stomach, Clea turned and followed Snape out of her apartment.
