Chapter 10: So Close


Addy and Snape sat there like that for a while, just feeling kind of blue and thoughtful together.

Snape closed his eyes and granted himself a rare interlude of peace. He figured he must be dreaming—probably Addy had thrown something at him during their fight, hit him in the head, and now he was out cold. How else could this magnificent creature be content to be so near to him? Her hands felt so tiny in his, her curls brushed so softly against his face. He wanted to stroke the tops of her fingers with his, but dared not move, lest he wake himself up. So he sat perfectly still and breathed in her freshness, waiting for cold reality to set in when he came to.

In the meantime, Addy couldn't deny it: she liked the way her hands felt wrapped up with his. It was a safe feeling, the irony of which was not lost on her, since just minutes ago they were ready to bite each other's heads off. She noticed the roughness of his palms, the powerful substance of his body as she leaned against it, the electrifying masculinity of his scent…

And then she became conscious of the effect his closeness was having on her. She felt wholly alive, aware of the fragility and power of each passing moment, extremely present. Unsure of how long this lovely détente would last, she let the pleasures of these new sensations envelope and invigorate her. Something stirred inside…a great desire to have him nearer, closer, deeper…to drink him in…to--

'ADELAIDE!' shouted a Voice in her head. 'What are you thinking??? You have work to do! Besides, he hates you, remember? You've merely exhausted him for the time being with your incessant, stubborn screeching, but any moment now he'll remember who you are.'

'Oh, shut up,' she said to herself. 'If it's only to last a moment, then let me enjoy it in peace, will you?' She simply couldn't remember the last time she'd just rested against someone and listened to the sounds around her: the birds, the breeze, the ticking of the clock…

The clock!

Addy's eyes flashed open and her body tensed. Sensing the change, Snape followed her gaze to the very large clock on the wall of her office. It had 48 markings around its perimeter and three hands. At the end of the longest hand, a miniature globe spun slowly on its tilted axis as it made its way around the clock. Another hand had a tiny replica of the Hogwarts Express—that hand sat stationary now, and wouldn't start moving until the students boarded the train at Platform 9 ¾ at 11:00 am the following day. The third hand had a little boat at the end of it. When the first years began their trip across the lake, that hand would start its journey around the clock, marking their approach right up to the start of the Sorting Feast.

It took Addy a minute to process what the clock was telling her. When she realized it, she gasped in alarm. There were only twenty-nine hours between now and the official start of the term, and she wasn't anywhere near being ready!

She had made a promise to Dumbledore—the first thing he'd asked of her was to be prepared for the start of the term. He'd even brought someone in to help her with the task. That great wizard had been willing to take a chance on her, to go out on a limb for her, and she was about to repay him by failing in her very first assignment.

Adelaide was furious with herself. She hated being unprepared—it was one of the worst feelings she knew. It reeked of inadequacy…of disappointment. She'd grown up in a world where presumptions, calculations, and maneuvers were a part of daily life, and being prepared was a vital skill, if one wanted to stay alive and out of trouble.

She knew she'd let her guard down—she'd allowed herself to relax today for nearly TWO WHOLE HOURS and enjoy her newfound feelings of freedom and independence, when in fact, relaxation and enjoyment were the last things she felt she deserved. As a result, the simple passing of time—the most predictable thing in the world!--had caught her off-guard, and the thought made her sick. She ought to have remembered how lucky she was to have this chance—just to be here! She railed inwardly at herself, and promised the Voice that she would never do it again.

Fuming at herself, she blurted out, "What am I doing?" Then she turned to Snape with anger and apprehension in her eyes and said, "You've got to go."

Perhaps it was a Death Eater trait—the blunt insensitivity and reflexive way she resorted to suspicion. She held herself fully responsible for her lapse in judgment, yet couldn't help but think that if HE hadn't been there wasting her time with petty arguing… And the closeness of him—how it had been so intoxicating, so tempting…

At any rate, what she had really meant was, "What am I doing sitting around like this when I've got work to do and a promise to keep? You've got to go because my feelings for you are distracting me."

But that's not what she said.

And what he heard was: "What am I doing sitting here holding hands with the likes of you? You've got to go because you disgust me."

She jumped up and began pacing around her desk while her stomach did a trampoline act. Her agitation was quite apparent.   She was in her own world.

Snape smiled sadly to himself.  OK, it wasn't a dream, but still, he had known it couldn't last long. A soft little voice at the back of his head was starting to wonder if she hadn't manipulated him all along, just to get him off her back for a while. He would have to ruminate on that further, when he was safe in the solitude of his own chambers.

He stood up, straightened his robes, donned his mask of professional detachment and said, rather sharply, "Pull yourself together, Miss Mayhem. I'll get Lupin down here and you'll continue with your… preparations." That last word dripped with spite.

Snape strode to the fireplace, threw in a pinch of the powder sitting in a bowl on the mantle, and growled into it, "Lupin, get in here."

Remus swirled instantly into view in the fireplace and stepped out of it, a look of concern across his face.

"Snape…what's—"

"You two need to get to work," he said sternly. "And might I suggest that you cut out the frivolity, since it has just dawned on Adelaide that she has merely 29 hours—no…," he said with an exaggerated look at the clock, "make that 28 hours and 57 minutes—until her students arrive, expecting a fully prepared professor. As you both know," he added, with a stern look from hooded eyes, "the Defense Against the Dark Arts course has never been as crucial as it is now."

Remus looked over at Addy, who was still pacing and clearly in the beginning stages of a panic attack. She saw Snape turn and start to walk towards her, then stop himself. They stared at each other awkwardly for a moment. Then he said, "Good day, Miss Mayhem." Before she could answer, he walked out the office door without a look back, all long strides and swirling robes, and seconds later she heard the outer door to her classroom slam.

Remus put a comforting arm around Adelaide and walked her out into the classroom. "Don't worry," he said with a smile, "we'll pull this off if it takes all night."

"All night?!" she gasped, . "We have a meeting of the Order tonight, don't we? And then I'm supposed to work on strategy with Snape afterwards! Oh, this is impossible! I'm sorry, Remus, you've wasted your time coming down here. This simply is not possible…what am I going to tell Dumbledore?" 

She was really starting to babble and gnaw at her fingernails, so he grabbed her by both shoulders and forced her to look him in the eye. "We're going to do this," he said with utmost seriousness. "I don't need to sleep tonight if you don't. So we'll work until dinner, go to the meeting, then meet back here after your strategy session with Snape. And by the time the students arrive tomorrow, you'll be ready."

Addy still looked doubtful, so he added in all honesty, "Besides, all the teachers are in a panic. They've procrastinated all summer, and now they're all scrambling to get ready for the students. Well, probably not Snape, but everyone else. Trust me—you've been stuck in this room all day, but I've been out there—the whole castle is in chaos."

That made her grin a bit, and he could tell she was calming down.  The sight of her smile filled his heart, so he added with a wink, "Sirius will help us. He owes me one, and besides, I don't think it will take too much persuading to get him down here, do you?"

At that, her breathing steadied, her shoulders loosened,  and she gave an appreciative little laugh.  Remus felt his heart bubble over. "Sorry," she said sheepishly. And then, "OK."

It wasn't like her to panic. She'd stood up to Death Eaters, including Lucius Malfoy, her father, and even Voldemort himself. Perhaps it was the thought of a room full of boisterous, hormonal, teenage wizards, all looking to her for instruction and guidance. Yet she couldn't help but wonder--what had Snape done to her???

Remus was true to his word. He rolled up the sleeves of his robe and worked like a man possessed, as the blazing sun arced across the sky and the hot day turned to a breezy dusk.

It was nearly six o'clock and they had made phenomenal progress. Addy had made it clear that she wanted to incorporate dueling lessons into the class starting with the 4th years, so they were poring over the lesson plans trying to figure out how they could fit it into the schedule. Remus looked up at the clock and said, "You'd better put your robes back on and go freshen up, or we'll be late for dinner."

"Oh, do we have to go? We're doing so well, and besides I don't really –"

He looked at her questioningly.

"Can't we just have the house elves bring us something to eat here?"

Remus shook his head. As much as he would have enjoyed a private dinner-for-two here in Addy's classroom, he said, "Dumbledore insists that we all eat together."

She tried to change the subject by proposing that they move the Grindylow class from the third year to the second, but he would have none of it.

"You're going to dinner if I have to carry you there. Now, do you want to put your school robes back on, or do you want to go like that?"

She rubbed her face with both hands, sighed, and stuck her tongue out at him. He stuck his out right back. Then she got up and headed back into her office to get her robes and splash some cool water on her face and neck from the basin at the back of the room.

When she re-emerged, clothed in her shimmery purple robes, he saw that she had taken the wand out of her hair, and it now swirled around her face and down her back in chaotic patterns of randomness. He held the door for her out into the corridor and as she passed, his ultra-sensitive olfactory nerve picked up the faintest whisper of jasmine. They walked to dinner arm in arm, as the sun slanted low through the windows of the castle.

To be continued…

Author's note: Sorry for the long wait for this chapter—it was a tough one. I had two completely different versions of it written, then after choosing one, decided to scrap the whole middle section and re-write it. Many thanks to all of you who've reviewed so far. Stay tuned…

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