The journey to the Trefethen quarters would be equally swift and quite silent indeed (up the stairs, into an east corridor, up a tiny winding staircase, the likes of which are usually reserved for farmhouse kitchens), Sabine curtly stating to the rather parental-guidance rated statue guarding the arched doorway (a forest nymph with snakes for hair- a rather unusual combination, needless to say) that the password was 'Hinkypunks'. This proved correct, and Sabine gestured to her companion to enter after her.
The quarters were small (and showed definite signs of being decorated by Sabine, containing a healthy bit of Victorian clutter and a large amount of pictures of what could be assumed her family and friends), consisting of a tasteful little sitting-room with a rug, a fireplace and two dark purple chairs, and a niche with a full-length window. Off to one side was a curtained half-wall providing entrance to an insignificant and largely untouched kitchenette, and to the other side was a door to a fiercely neat room with a tidy bed, a surprisingly large vanity and stool, a wardrobe, and a door which in turn led to a bathroom. "The modest accommodations. Make yourself at home."
Severus looked around, taking in everything with an interested gaze and puzzling over the odd blend of clutter and elegant decor. He realized that it was the first time he had actually been in a woman's bedroom for a purpose other than... He cleared his throat and carefully examined the upholstery of one of the chairs, which happened to be the first thing his eyes fell on. The deep purple color was rather intriguing...
What the hell? He blinked and returned his attention to the task at hand. "Thank you." He said very belatedly. "I will expect a full display, complete with a live model." He snarked gently, reminding Sabine, in case there was any doubt, that his wits were still entirely about him.
Entirely missing the very inappropriate and entirely potentially unwelcome thoughts of the Potions professor, Sabine gave a small sniff as she trotted towards the bedroom. "I shall take great pains not to die or turn to wax, then," she remarked playfully as she closed the door and turned around, regarding the bedroom. Quite standard, really.
Passing her vanity, which happened to be the most feminine object in the entire apartment, Sabine withdrew from her wardrobe two sets of black robes. Immediately she was overcome with the suspicion that neither would do, and even went so far as to hang one up entirely, before changing with some hesitation into the other set.
Even as she frowned at the wide sleeves and the eccentric cut of the hips (designed with the installment of a bit of a hoop, quite unflattering to any but the thinnest of forms, which Sabine happened to be "blessed" with), some strange affliction of vanity caused her to smooth her hair before exiting, and dab onto the nape of her neck one of the more subtle of the twelve perfume bottles neatly lined up on the dressing table.
That done, Sabine cleared her throat, raised her chin and opened the door once again, lacing her hands demurely in front of her, dropping her shoulders and beginning a lap about the room.
Severus made no reply to Sabine's lightly mocking comments, choosing instead to brood on nothing in particular. He stood facing the fireplace with his hands clasped behind his back, and turned around abruptly as the door opened. He followed his colleague's progress around the room, appreciating the calm elegance she exuded, and swore he caught a faint hint of a pleasing scent as she passed close to him.
He told himself that his dark eyes were examining too closely the woman before him; to which his self responded curtly that it was for research. He blinked and drew a breath to pass the verdict.
"They suit you very well," He said softly, speaking slowly and deliberately so as to keep the prerequisite purr out of his voice. Somehow he doubted that in this setting it would be appropriate. "It is unfortunate, but I fear that the cut is not quite right... We will need to purchase a new set. My thanks for the demonstration, however," and here he bowed very slightly, a smirk curling at the edges of his mouth. "Especially at this late hour, I could not have asked for a more cooperative model."
"You flatter me more than you might have intended. I truly don't appreciate it." However, the tugging at her lips and the faint pinkness of her cheeks might suggest otherwise. Sabine tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and removed herself to her bedroom again, not wishing to wrinkle a perfectly good set of dress robes.
Surprisingly, her voice carried through the wood of the door with a clarity that might not have been expected. "I will, then, expect you to assist me in choosing a more appropriate set."
The next question was a much more timid one, Sabine hesitating to ask even as she fastened her belt and adjusted her collar. "Were you ever married, Severus?"
Severus listened to her declare herself not pleased with his compliments, but the light blush she could not quite hide spoke otherwise, and he vaguely congratulated himself, amused.
He had, of course, expected to accompany Sabine at least to the seamstress' shop to purchase the new garments; but somehow, at hearing her suggest it, the idea seemed alien. He ignored the voice in the back of his head that was reminding him of the considerable control he would have over the fashioning of said robes.
He had almost become lost in his brooding again when a voice, so timid that for a moment he did not realize it was Sabine's, carried through the bedroom door.
"Were you ever married, Severus?"
Severus swallowed. Oh, God... Where did that come from? From anyone else the question would have brought anger, from Sabine, it brought a twinge of bitterness.
A stroke of guilt ran itself over Sabine, and she cleared her throat in a very Snapelike manner before exiting the bedroom again, closing the door behind her, but staying at that post. After having examined Severus' expression, Sabine immediately found herself wanting to mollify him.
"I ask only for future reference," she offered gently. Sabine was, after all, tactful enough to know that this was a touchy subject. "You need not tell me if it would embarrass you or rekindle unwanted memories." Already her curious mind was caressing the ideas of comically rejected proposals and more solemn instances of separation.
He made a gesture as if to wave away her apologies, assuring her that they were unnecessary - she hadn't done anything wrong. But he remained mute, and the gesture was more an absent twitching of the fingers as his dark eyes - suddenly seeming more deep-set, somehow - strayed into unfocused distance.
As he looked down at Sabine, his tall frame still as a statue, Severus could not help but think of his father; opening locked closets he did not want to open, seeing vivid memories he did not wish to relive. A look of utmost loathing crossed his face as the voice in his mind snarled hatefully, Still breaking me after all these years, aren't you, Father? He closed his eyes for a long moment to will the images away and to erase the expression from his features. He had grown up on the inside of the only marriage he had ever seen go so terribly wrong.
"Married?" He said finally, his voice soft. "No, never… Almost, once." He offered a small smile to assure everyone involved that his mental journey to the department of back-story was over. "I never found anyone that didn't irritate me to the point of insanity." He added truthfully in the same soft tone, though his smile became a smirk as he studied her under a slightly raised brow.
"Oh." Drop the goddamn subject, her inner voice told her viciously, and she did, letting it fly out the window with a sharp intake of breath as she stored everything- the hateful distortion of his face, the underlying tone in his voice, the icy fingers that stroked her spine as the realization that she had touched a raw nerve dawned on her.
Sabine came forward and, despite herself, took one of Severus' hands to press it between hers, if only briefly. Had it not been that particular gesture, in those particular circumstances, anyone might think that she was only employing a creative alternative to a tap on the shoulder. "I have heard that Diagon Alley has several quality robe shops."
Severus blinked, the feel of his hand suddenly taken up in hers pulling him back to reality. Her touch lingered for only a moment, but it was long enough for the nerves in his hand to register how very pleasant her skin felt against his. The cold, callous bat of the dungeons, enjoying human contact... How bizarre.
Ah, she had employed his time-honored tactic of abruptly changing the subject. He was grateful, and nodded. "Yes... For these purposes, I would venture a suggestion that we visit Madame Malkin's... Custom-cut women's robes seem to be her specialty, though she would tell you that any robe is her specialty. The woman relishes in her talents." He was silent for a moment, then checked his pocket watch. "Perhaps we should adjourn for the night? Tomorrow is a weekend, it would be an ideal time to visit the shop, and on the return trip to interview a few of Hogsmeade's residents... Perhaps they have heard rumors." He realized his suggestions sounded rather like orders, and reminded himself that he was not teaching, and that Sabine was not a student. "That is, if tomorrow is convenient for you."
"I'll check my date book, but I'm certain tomorrow will be fine."
It isn't as though I have a life.
With that, Sabine stepped back to clear a path to the door and nodded. "Good night. Pleasant dreams."