Alice had become used to covertly observing Professor Snape, but it was quite something else the next morning when it was he who was side-eyeing her throughout the entirety of breakfast.
She tried to avoid meeting his eyes, but when you can feel yourself being stared at, especially that of the dagger variety, it's very hard to simply ignore. And because of that, Alice found her gaze being pulled toward the High Table several times during her meal. Now, you could look at it as being just the right or the wrong moment, but either way, just as she finished her meal and again risked looking up, their eyes met.
The effect was immediate, and Alice heard the tail end of his current train of thought.
"...she better not be, damn it. I told her..."
Next moment, as he realized that yes, she was doing what she better not be, she heard,
"Miss Bainbridge, I'll warn you once more not to listen to my thoughts without explicit permission to do so. If I catch you again you will be very sorry."
It was the first time that he had spoken directly to her through his mind. It didn't feel like merely eavesdropping anymore… it felt, to Alice, like some sort of encounter. This, in addition to the fact that Severus Snape's intimidation factor wasn't hampered in the slightest despite him sitting at least twenty yards away, had Alice putting down her pumpkin juice and nearly running out of the Great Hall.
She was terrified of being caught again, and spent the next several days keeping her eyes down at her feet as much as possible to avoid accidentally making eye contact with him. And had bumped into several students, teachers and one extremely miffed suit of armor. If her classmates didn't already think her extremely odd, they certainly did now. Alice felt incredibly anxious at the thought of being questioned by Snape again, but nearly felt relief when on Monday morning, the communication finally came.
Professor Snape handed back their graded assignments from the week before and there was a piece of folded parchment placed between the pages of Alice's.
"Remedial Potions extra lessons - Professor Snape's office at 7pm this evening. Do not be late."
At six fifty-five, as Alice walked down the stone stairs from the Entrance Hall and then down the narrow hall that led to Professor Snape's office, she recalled the two other times that she'd been in his office previously.
The first had been in her second year. Professor McGonagall retrieved Alice from the Gryffindor common room one Saturday afternoon and led her down to his office, where they found Snape and a sheepish-looking Slytherin girl called Blythe Baddox. She was apparently being reprimanded for several antics that Snape had just found out about, and being made to apologize.
One of the things she had confessed to was spitting Drooble's Best Blowing Gum in between the pages of Alice's stack of notes on Flobberworm Mucus the week before, and Snape had asked Alice if this was in fact true and if so, why hadn't she informed him at the time? Alice had been painfully shy back then, but besides that, had never seen the point in telling a teacher every time a classmate did something nasty to her. He had made her promise to report any future incidents, and then had her stand there awkwardly as Blythe quietly said she was sorry.
The second instance, was the time in her fifth year when she had let Professor Snape know that the classroom supply closet was out of Beetle Eyes, and Snape, having both arms elbow deep in purple sludge at the time, (Erin Moynahan had somehow glued a hand to the bottom of her cauldron and he was having to hurry to save her fingers) had sent her to retrieve another box from the cupboard in his office.
The room had all of the odd, contradictory traits that the typical dungeon does. Damp yet dusty, cramped yet cavernous, candle-lit yet dark. But there was something a bit extra in this particular room of the castle. It had a domed ceiling with ancient words etched in Latin over the arches. There were leather trunks, seven or eight of them, in corners and pushed against walls. It was completely filled with books, hundreds of them, expertly organized on dozens of shelves, and even more shelves holding jars and vials and and small wooden boxes, each of the containers carefully labeled.
The most interesting part of Professor Snape's office, and something Alice remembered noticing that second time she had been there, were the experiments (she could think of no other word to describe it) that he seemed to have going.
There were two long work benches near one corner, and they were covered with stacks of loose parchment, eye droppers, tongs, magnifying glasses, stirring rods, measuring cups... There were cauldrons simmering steadily, and beakers with makeshift bunsen burners, bewitched with flame, burning underneath them. Alice didn't have an especially high interest in experimental Potions, but she would have absolutely loved to learn of all the research and development that was obviously going on down there.
Now, when she entered his office on this evening, it seemed that most things were put away and in their place. But there were a few small set ups throughout the room, and still parchment and quills spread out over table tops.
She had stepped inside after knocking and being told to enter. Professor Snape was standing, tall and stiff as usual, and he nodded to a chair in front of his desk.
"Sit down, Bainbridge."
It was an old, wooden chair, warped with time and without embellishment or cushion, and Alice quickly slid into it.
"We're going to do some experimenting tonight, with your little party trick. But first, I'm going to ask you to demonstrate it for Professor Dumbledore."
"How are you this evening, Miss Bainbridge?"
Alice jumped at the voice that came from behind her. Professor Dumbledore was sitting in a chair in a shadowed corner. She hadn't even noticed anyone else had been in the room.
"Fine, thanks." She managed to respond.
"It seems our Headmaster is having trouble comprehending the... gift with which you have been so blessed." Snape said. And he spoke the words with such dripping sarcasm that Alice thought that he must hate her.
"Because of this," he continued, "Professor Dumbledore has chosen a phrase, and told it to me just minutes ago. So, we know there's no way I could have relayed it to you anytime before this moment. I want you to see if you can listen to my thoughts and find out what it is. Do you understand?"
Alice shifted nervously on the uncomfortable seat.
"Yes, Professor."
"Go ahead." He folded his arms across his chest and looked indignantly at her.
She glanced at Professor Dumbledore once more. He looked expectant, but unhurried, and was smiling gently.
Alice felt extremely awkward, and was suddenly sweating in the freezing cold chamber. She willed herself to keep calm, looked back at Snape and listened, and what she heard made her wonder if they could actually be teasing her.
"You... want me to say it outloud?" she asked timidly.
"Unless you believe either I or Professor Dumbledore has inexplicably developed the ability to hear your thoughts, then yes, Miss Bainbridge. Please do."
Sitting there with the two men staring at her, she could now add 'foolish' to 'awkward' on the list of things she was feeling. But there was nothing for it, and she cleared her throat and said dutifully,
"Behind every great knitter, is a large pile of yarn."
Dumbledore snickered. Snape looked increasingly angry and shot a look toward the old wizard.
"I'm so glad you can find ways of enjoying yourself in the middle of this most serious matter Albus. Have you been adequately entertained, or would you like to choose another phrase for demonstration?"
"...you bloody fucking bellend!"
Alice nearly gasped aloud when she heard the portion of the sentence that Snape said only in his head. She knew Professor Dumbledore couldn't have heard it, but still she found herself looking back at him for some sort of reaction. She couldn't imagine ever speaking to the Headmaster that way.
But he only sat there, serenely calm, and then addressed Alice.
"Miss Bainbridge, do you think you could try and read my thoughts?
"I haven't heard anything from anyone else, Sir. Only Professor Snape."
"Yes, as he has said. But could you... try and humor me, perhaps? Give it a go?"
Alice picked nervously at a painful hangnail on her thumb.
"Um, alright." She looked up at her Headmaster.
If it were possible to hear the sound of twinkling within an eye then she might have heard that, but there was only silence.
"Nothing, sir."
"Well, thank you anyway for indulging me. Excuse my interruption, Severus. Please, continue."
Professor Snape had returned to his chair and was sitting with his elbows on the desk and his fingers steepled under his chin. He was looking at Alice with distrust, possibly suspicion.
"I'm going to try something different, Miss Bainbridge. I'm going to attempt to block you from listening to my thoughts, and I want you to tell me if you are still able to hear them." Snape shared a quick, knowing glance with Dumbledore. "Starting now."
Alice obeyed, and listened. It did seem different this time, more difficult to sort out. It was similar to when she was hearing his thoughts at the same that he was actually speaking.
Alice closed her eyes and concentrated on his mind's voice. There was a lot more to this one, and she was glad he was repeating it back to back, so she'd be able to remember it all. Once she thought she had, she opened her eyes and said, "Moly is a black-stemmed herb that can be eaten to counteract enchantments."
Professor Snape looked relieved for the first time in months. Pleased, even. He said to Professor Dumbledore, "Thankfully, it seems that occluding-"
"I heard something else as well."
Alice had really, really hated to interrupt him but she hadn't been finished saying what she heard. And she was too terrified to be anything but honest with either of the men in the room.
Snape widened his eyes at her, the small respite from his constant state of irritation had lapsed. Alice continued while she had the nerve.
"That bit was quiet, muffled. But the other part I heard much louder and clearer."
"And what was that Bainbridge?" Snape asked through clenched teeth.
"It was, um, 'The root was black, while the flower was as white as milk; the Gods call it Moly, and, mortal men… cannot… cannot uproot it, but the Gods can do whatever they like.'"
A muscle twitched in Snape's jaw as he stared at the girl in front of him with unquestionable hostility. Alice could only stare back, sitting stock-still under his gaze and wishing someone would hurry up and say something.
On a table a few feet behind Snape, a flame warming a beaker of yellow liquid started to grow larger, brighter... and the solution above it began to boil.
"Severus." said Dumbledore calmly.
The Headmaster's voice seemed to do as intended, and Professor Snape straightened his back and quietly inhaled, slowly and deeply. The flame behind him ebbed, and was again a small, steady flicker.
"There's nothing unusual about thinking the words of... Homer, was it, when referencing the Moly plant, is there? I've read his works myself, many years ago, of course." Professor Dumbledore had put on a false, jovial tone. "Now, if you don't mind, Severus. I'll leave you two to it. Miss Bainbridge, we'll see if we can't get to the bottom of this mystifying little conundrum. Until we do, these, lessons, may have to continue... if you don't mind them, of course."
Alice did mind, in fact it was everything she could do to keep herself from running from the room and hiding under her covers, but she knew there was no way she could refuse them.
"I don't mind, Professor Dumbledore."
"Well, then, make sure to relay to me how the experiments go, Severus. Good evening, Miss Bainbridge."
"Good evening sir."
When the quiet swoosh of Dumbledore's purple robes exited the room and the office door closed again, Snape stood from his chair and perched himself at a spot just to the right of his desk.
"I'm not sure why I'm asking, as you don't seem troubled to ask before invading mine, but do I have permission to look into your mind, Miss Bainbridge?"
It was an obviously terrifying thought. "Look... into my mind?"
"As a seventh year, you have learned of the techniques of Legilimency, have you not?"
"Oh. Yes sir, I have."
"Then you know what I mean when I say 'look into your mind.' And I'm asking for your consent to do so because, even I, am capable of behaving with a modicum of basic courtesy."
His annoyance was again obvious and Alice swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded.
"I need a firm yes, Miss Bainbridge."
"Yes, you have my permission.'
"I want you to think back on each time that you've read my thoughts, starting with the very first time that it happened. Concentrate on nothing else, and keep your eyes open and on me. Are you ready?"
Alice again shifted in her seat. She didn't think she had ever sat on anything more uncomfortable.
"Yes."
The first thing that happened was she noticed the almost indistinguishable action of Snape's pupils dilating. And the next was that her most current state of emotions came to the front of her mind.
Now, it was very apparent to Alice that she wasn't just nervous, she was scared. Hearing someone else's thoughts scared her, this room scared her, her own teacher scared her. She also seemed to take stock of her physical state as well. Her bum was feeling sore from the damned chair, her hands were clammy, her underarms sweating, and the tip of her nose was cold from the temperature of the room.
Then, Alice remembered what she was supposed to be remembering, and suddenly she was sitting in class, seeing Professor Snape walk by her desk while mentioning the person who was sickly and small, and looked like Harry Potter. And then he was at the gargoyle basin, and she felt the shock of realization all over again when he turned around, his mouth unmoving. It hit her then, not in the memory, but now, sitting in Professor Snape's dungeon office, that that moment had changed her life. She could hardly remember what it was like not hearing his thoughts, not testing distances and timing, not worrying if she was going to be caught doing it.
That memory ended, and she was in the Great Hall, listening to him complain to himself one morning about the quality of the apple porridge. And again the memory changed and he was scolding her in the hallway and singing that odd song in his head. It felt as if Snape was flipping through her memories like they were cards on a giant Rolodex. And that it was going too fast.
Now, she was catching sight of him and his shockingly pale and bleeding leg. And then listening to him talk about a sleep over at a friend's house who owned a lava lamp. After that, instead of what should have been the next memory, the one where he found her out, she was watching herself being poured out onto the flagstones from the giant cauldron in space, entering the Great Hall and seeing the ghostly figure, and the lights from the hundreds of neon signs were blasting into her head and knocking her on the ground. She was feeling the pain of that awful migraine all over again when, blessedly, the visions stopped and her mind went blank.
Alice opened her eyes, which she'd apparently closed at some point, and she saw her Professor, who was leaning over her as she lay on his office floor.
He was angry, or possibly, worried. She had been learning recently that for him, those two emotions came with nearly identical facial expressions.
"Bainbridge, can you sit up?"
She began to lift her head when she noticed that Snape's hand was underneath it. Her face flushed warm with embarrassment realizing that not only was she down on the floor with no memory of how she got there, but that he'd apparently had to save her head from cracking against it. Snape seemed uncomfortable as well, and when she slowly sat up he pulled his hand out from under her. He didn't yank her up by her arm like she almost imagined he might, or even touch her at all as she stood, but just sort of... closely hovered as she got back into the chair.
"What happened?" Alice asked hesitantly. Snape resumed the position next to his desk.
"It seems the Legilimency was too much for you. I've seen it cause unconsciousness before, but only in extreme situations. And that was only after at least four hours of continuous, intense…"
Snape looked at his student as she stared down at her lap and rubbed the elbow which had hit the floor before he'd reached her. He didn't finish his sentence.
"In any case," Snape continued in a smoother tone. "We will conclude for today. You should stop by the infirmary on your way back to your common room so Madame Pomfrey can check-"
"No, No, I'm fine. Really. I'll go straight to my room. Please. I'm just, very tired."
He narrowed his eyes at her, which Alice didn't see because she still did not look up. The room was quiet for what felt to Alice like an exceedingly long time.
"Very well. But if you feel faint or ill in any way you will go to the Infirmary, no matter what time of the night it is. We'll continue this later. I have questions regarding what I saw when reviewing your memories that you'll need to answer."