He tightened the necktie against his high white collar. His black robes, also buttoned high, held him firmly and square. He was meeting Draco this evening, but first he would have to suffer this encounter with Granger.
He almost scowled at himself in his office mirror. A portrait behind him coughed, ever a reminder that he was always under observation wherever he should go. He traced his fingertips along his upper arm. A hot flash in his mind of her gripping him there was soon carefully replaced behind his mist of veiled thoughts. How did he convince himself he would ever righteously be accepted onto the side of the Order? A good and just man would surely never have thoughts like these to hide.
He again grimaced into his own pale reflection in an acknowledgement that it had always been the path of least resistance for him to follow the Dark Lord. But perhaps it was in this tireless fight against his instincts where he truly proved himself worthy?
His door sounded three hesitant knocks.
"Enter."
He'd already decided there would be no talking, merely a single instruction to clean the dusty potions glasses and then he'd be rid of her. He planned to organise paperwork in his office, so there would be no need to even look at her. Except here she was approaching him rather than turning away towards the classroom. Her fingers nervously trailed along his desk as she walked towards him, a curl slipping from behind her ear since her bowed head kept her vision on her shoes.
"Sir."
He grunted in recognition of her deference, his eyes controlled to the papers in piles in front of him. A torrent of words spilled from her mouth.
"Sir, I apologise for the drawing, I know what it must seem – Obviously we were kissing – I didn't mean to cause embarrassment -"
He stood before her, eyes open wild and unblinking at her audacity. He silenced her with a single finger held urgently in front of her face. His teeth had never felt so tightly clenched in his life, it almost hurt.
"Miss – Granger" Every word was separated with exasperation – or was it desperation? "I don't know what you think you are discussing with me, but I assure you this conversation is over."
Before she could respond, he opened the office door behind her and dragged her out by her elbow into the classroom, slamming himself quickly back into the small room, sending papers flying up into the air. How ludicrous he felt, hiding there as parchment flitted and fell around him. He looked down and flexed the hand that had touched her arm. It felt almost on fire. She was too clever not to soon understand the meaning of these overreactions, of his suspicious behaviour. She was dangerous to him, and he had accepted that now.
His first instinct was to resolve thereafter to avoid her. But he couldn't risk her talking about this with her friends. If Draco was to overhear – his already faltering trust in Severus would fracture further. It could destroy a reputation he had laboured so many years to build. Maybe avoiding her wouldn't work after all.
He didn't for one moment imagine his pass at feigning ignorance in his office had worked with her. He considered obliviating her memories, but he couldn't be sure her thoughts or suspicions hadn't already been communicated further, and then it would be obvious what he had done. Perhaps he would need to… provoke her into silence on the matter. She had proven already that she was not nearly afraid enough of him.
He had always felt more secure when fear surrounded him. But every time he thought about the abject fear he would invoke following the plan with Dumbledore, his throat seemed to constrict. Wasn't this what he always wanted? The kind of power widespread intimidation brewed? He shook himself as if dusting himself off. He combed his fingers back through his long black hair. Universal fear of him then would be the only thing keeping him safe when he returned to the Dark Lord. It had to be real, it had to be true. Another thought flashed up through his mind before being quelled behind the depths of his occlumency. He wasn't even sure if the thought was his to own: doing this, all of this; in the end would keep her safe.