Chapter 6
The dungeon was silent, punctuated only by the crackling of cauldrons and the splashing of ingredients. Severus swept about the room, examining the work of his pupils with his usual surly demeanor and pausing only to criticize. Neville froze as he stalked toward his desk, no doubt looking for even the slightest of mistakes; but upon arriving, Severus found none and was forced to move on.
Neville let out a breath that he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. He smiled nervously at Hermione from across the table and resumed working. A sudden loud bang drew the class's attention. Ron's cauldron had begun spewing out a noxious green smog that reeked of rotten garbage and settled heavily into the air. Severus swooped down upon him with hawkish speed and waved away the smoke with his wand. Ron shrank back, more from the intense stares he was attracting than from the lecture (he was, after all, quite used to those).
With a disgusted look Severus emptied the boy's cauldron. "Essays on my desk Monday; class dismissed. Leave your samples on my desk."
The children each quietly packed up their respective belongings and left their vials on Severus's desk. He watched as they all filed out of the room, his dark eyes cold and calculating as he followed Neville's small round form out the door.
oo
The hour was late as Severus strode through the castle. Moonlight poured in through the high windows, spilling across the stone corridor like so much spilled milk. Shadows crept along the walls, following him as he moved. He slowed to a stop in front of a heavy oak door. He hesitated for a moment, but let his alabaster knuckles rap sharply on the wood.
A moment later the door swung open and Rosemary appeared. Her long chestnut curls tumbled past her bare shoulders; her eyes seemed almost to glow in the soft flickering light of the candles that lay behind her. She flashed him a charming smile.
"Severus," she said warmly, "what a pleasant surprise. Please, come in." She stepped aside and allowed him passage.
He slid into the room, his eyes gliding over the candles that dotted the room and the glass of wine and overturned book sitting in an old leather armchair by the fire. There was an old brass gramophone sitting on a bookshelf, from which could be heard the soft strains of a gentle trumpet.
"I hope that I am not interrupting anything…" he said coolly, noting for the first time that underneath her robe, she was wearing only a delicate silk nightgown. Though it was tastefully modest, discomfort seized him almost immediately.
"Please, sit," she said, waving him toward the other chair. "Can I get you something to drink? Wine? Tea?"
"Wine, thank you," he replied, sitting stiffly in the chair.
She poured him a nice glass of merlot and topped off her own before settling in across from him. Severus took a sip of his wine and studied her very carefully.
"So," began Rosemary, "how have your classes been progressing? Any improvement?" she added hopefully.
"Yes, as a matter of fact, one boy in particular."
"And who, might that be? If you don't mind my asking."
He paused, considering this strange, yet intriguing woman that sat before him. "Neville Longbottom," he said finally. "Typically, his pathetic attempts at even the simplest of potions have ended in an array of appalling disasters."
"But not today," murmured Rosemary.
Severus cocked his head at her. "No."
She smiled at him, her spring green eyes distant with memory. "I knew he could do it," she said idly.
"How is it," he began smoothly, "that you have managed to correct this…problem in the space of two weeks, when I have made little progress in the course of four years of instruction?"
Rosemary tittered with laughter, amusement dancing across her face like the silken shadows on the walls. "Come now, Severus, surely there was something which eluded you as a student? Something that was always just out of reach?"
Severus stared at her, his eyes sharp and harsh, refusing to see the memories that slid to the front of his brain.
"Do you truly want to know?" she asked, pausing with her glass almost to her lips.
"Enlighten me," he said dryly.
"It seems as though your students suffer from two problems. One, they are children and as such, lack the same discipline and self-motivation of fully grown witches and wizards, and two…well, they're terrified of you," she said with a smile.
Severus flashed her a dubious look but remained silent.
"I assure you, I am quite serious. Poor Neville can barely keep his wits about you, much less concentrate on the minutiae of a complex potion."
He stared at her, his long elegant fingers steepled in an almost thoughtful gesture. "And how exactly did you convince him that I am not…a monster?"
Rosemary shrugged. "I just gave him the confidence he needed. It's perfectly fine for him to be terrified of you; the important thing to remember was that no matter how scared he may be, it doesn't change the fact that he is a good wizard."
"And that was all it took to correct four years of bumbling oafishness in my classes?"
"Well, that, and a little bit of charm," added Rosemary with a grin.
"Perhaps I shall keep that in mind as I attend to my lessons," said Severus, rising to his feet. "Thank you for the wine."
He strode to the door, and Rosemary followed him.
"Good night, Severus," she said gently as he entered the hallway.
"Good night, professor," he replied politely.
"Rose," she corrected automatically. "Please, call me Rose. I never was one much for titles."
"Good night then, Rose," he said coolly.
She watched for a moment as he disappeared into the shadows of midnight, before closing the door and leaning against the ancient wood.
"Pleasant dreams," she whispered.
