Chapter IV: Elf Potions

The bus ride to Hveragerði took about an hour. Despite the fact that he had lived in Reykjavik for five years, Severus had only left the city on a handful of occasions. Minerva had urged him to explore the beautiful nature of his new home country, but apart from his trips to the most famous tourist attractions, he had spent most of his days somewhere between the hospital and his flat. What a shame it was, he thought as he let his eyes wander over the moss-clad hills. The black lava rocks made up strange shapes, and the soft light of the evening sun cast mysterious shadows. The Icelandic landscape certainly held a special kind of mystique, and Severus would not have been surprised to see fairies dancing on the hills or dragons flying at the horizon.

The bus arrived at its destination at four thirty. Finding Cassandra's house was easy. It was a small white cottage situated on the far side of the river. But showing up half an hour early would not do, and Severus decided go for a walk. Hveragerði was a lovely place, but Severus did not have the peace of mind to take in its beauty. Because, as much as he hated to admit it, he was extremely nervous. As a matter of fact, he could not remember one single time in his life when his heart had pounded in his chest in such a manner. It was just as unfamiliar as the feeling of butterflies in the pit of his stomach.

He knocked at Cassandra's door at four fifty-five. He figured that arriving five minutes early must be acceptable.

Nervously he fingered the parcel he was holding. It was wrapped in dark blue paper and contained three scented candles. Cassandra had told him not to bring flowers, and he had been quite glad about that since flowers were not really in his area of expertise. But he had wanted to bring her something. It was good manners, after all. Why he had decided to bring scented candles, he did not really know. It had just seemed like the kind of gift she would enjoy.

The first thing Severus heard when the door opened was the angry hissing of a cat. And before he had time to react, the tabby had already attacked the hem of his trousers.

'Nicodemus, stop that!' Cassandra's voice was firm and commanding, and the tabby immediately let go of Severus' trousers and retreated into the hall.

'Bad kitty, bad,' Cassandra chided, and for a moment Severus could have sworn that the animal had a guilty look on its face. But that was of course pure imagination. Cats did not have the ability to look guilty

'Sorry 'bout that,' Cassandra said with a smile and shooed the cat into the living room. 'He normally only behaves that way with family. Hope you have had a tetanus shot recently.'

Severus cautiously stepped inside, his eyes still on the cat, which in its turn was glaring at him from the living room. He took off his boots and accepted a pair of slippers that Cassandra held out towards him. In exchange, he handed her the parcel he had been holding.

'Thought I told you not to bring anything,' she said in a slightly accusing tone.

'No, you told me not to bring you flowers,' Severus retorted. He noticed that his voice had the same tone he had once used to reprimand students. And he had to admit that he secretly enjoyed seeing Cassandra blush.

Tugging lightly at the wrapping paper, she led him into the living room. 'Now, why don't you make yourself at home while I put on the kettle?' Then she disappeared in the kitchen, closely followed by the cat.

Severus looked around the living room and soon noticed that bringing candles had been the right choice. There were surely about fifty of them in the room, all of dark colour, some of them scented. Cassandra obviously liked candles.

'Don't be shy,' he heard her call from the kitchen. 'Have a look around.'

He was instantly drawn to the bookshelves. On first sight, they seemed somehow too big to fit the living room, as if they had been magically reduced in size. But of course, that was just an optical illusion.

On the first shelf, Severus found books in several languages: English and Icelandic of course, but also German, Italian, Russian, Romanian, Greek, and Latin.

'How many languages do you speak?' he asked.

'A few,' Cassandra answered, poking her head into the living room. 'I've just started learning Elfish.'

Severus' breath caught in his chest. 'Elf… sorry, what?'

'Elfish,' she repeated in a matter-of-fact tone, as if Elfish were one of the most common languages in the world. 'Haven't you read Tolkien?'

'No, I have not,' Severus answered, trying to hide his confusion. Elfish? Was she kidding him?

He let his fingers trail along the bookshelf, read the titles and frowned. Den äldre Eddan, The Nibelung Saga, The Aeneis, mostly books about old myths and sagas from all around Europe, not the kind of titles he had expected to see in Cassandra's bookshelf. But then again, what had he expected anyway? Horror stories?

The content of the second bookshelf proved to be even more peculiar. Herbal Medicine, Magick Potions, The Crone's Book of Charms and Spells? What the hell? Severus frowned. He did not recognise any of the authors, and those were most certainly Muggle books, but why on earth would Cassandra have a bookshelf full of books about magic?

He almost dropped 1000 Herbs and Fungi when he heard her voice behind him.

'I see you have discovered my little book collection.'

He felt the hair on his neck raise and turned to stare at his host.

'Well, I guess it's time to come clear,' she said, narrowing her eyes and smiling wickedly. 'I am a witch.'

No! No, no, no, she was not! She could not be! She was a Muggle! Not a witch! No, no, no!

Cassandra had obviously noticed the stunned look on his face, and her grin gave way to a kind smile. 'Don't worry, Severus,' she said as she handed him a cup of tea. 'I am not going to turn you into a toad.'

The risk of being turned into a toad was the least of Severus concerns at the moment. If she was a witch, she must have recognised him. Or had the details of the Second Wizarding War not reached her here in Iceland? Dared he hope that she did not know about Severus Snape?

He dropped onto the nearest armchair and stared at her. 'A witch?' he repeated, trying to keep his voice steady and his hands from shaking.

Cassandra sat down opposite him, and the grin reappeared. 'Call it what you want: witch, Wicca, Neo-Pagan, crazy woman. Let's just say I know a little bit more about herb lore and divination than normal people do.'

Severus cocked an eyebrow at her. 'Herb lore and divination?' Suddenly he felt really silly. Why was he repeating everything she said?

'Yes. But I guess you as a doctor don't believe in the power of nature.'

'On the contrary,' he explained, relieved that his voice was once more steady and his hands not shaking anymore. 'I am quite familiar with that branch of herbal medicine myself.'

Severus was splashing some water on his face in the bathroom, his pulse rate still higher than what was healthy.

Cassandra telling him that she was a witch had completely thrown him off balance and not for the reasons she might have been thinking of. For the second time in only a few weeks, he had feared that his past had caught up with him, that his cover had been blown, that she knew about Severus Snape.

But it could not be. Cassandra wasn't more of a witch than the nurses at the hospital who daily read their horoscopes and drank herbal tea. She was just a Muggle who knew a little bit more about the Old Ways than the average Muggle did. Yes, that was it. There were plenty of those in Reykjavik; Severus knew that. If he remembered correctly, there was even a small store not far from the hospital where they sold crystal balls, joss sticks and love potions. He had absolutely nothing to worry about.

He took one more deep breath and left the bathroom.

When he entered the kitchen, Nicodemus immediately arched its back and started hissing at him, and Severus instinctively made sure that there was a chair standing between him and the bloodthirsty animal. Cats had never taken too kindly to him, but that tabby seemed to hate him.

'What is it with you today, Nicodemus?' Cassandra asked, eyeing her cat suspiciously. 'If you can't play nicely, you'll have to go outside.'

Woman and cat started at each other for some moments. Then the cat hissed once more in Severus' direction and trotted out of the kitchen.

'I really apologise for him,' Cassandra said. 'Normally, he's quite sweet.'

She handed Severus another cup of tea, which he accepted gratefully, and they sat down at the table.

'Now, just for your information, Severus,' Cassandra said, fidgeting with her spoon. 'There is a bus leaving for the city in about an hour. That will give you time for another cup of tea and a sandwich. But if you'd rather stay for dinner, I'd be happy to have you. Unless you're afraid of me poisoning you.'

Severus gave a short, dry laugh. There had actually been a time in his life when he had avoided any food that was prepared by somebody else. But those times were long gone, and so he accepted her invitation for dinner. Firstly, because a home-cooked meal was not something he turned down easily nowadays. And secondly, because he really did not want to leave just yet.

'Don't tell me you are a vegetarian.' Cassandra was already heading for the refrigerator, and Severus followed at her heels. He was atypically curious to see what kind of food she was keeping there.

'Were you planning on feeding an army?' he asked as he became aware of the amount of groceries in her refrigerator.

'Nope, just an anaesthesiologist.' She turned around and grinned at him, and Severus felt himself blush. She had obviously counted on him staying for dinner, and he had walked right into her trap.

They agreed on lamb stew, and soon Severus found himself being equipped with an apron and a vegetable peeler.

'We'll need four carrots and eight potatoes,' Cassandra said while she started chopping onions.

Severus couldn't help but smirk. 'Yes, Ma'am.'

He was already done with the carrots when he noticed that Cassandra was watching him. 'Do you cook often?' she asked.

'As a matter of fact, I do not,' he replied truthfully.

'Strange,' she said, frowning slightly. 'You seem to be talented.'

'So are you,' Severus replied, eyeing the onions and chunks of lamb that were lying on her cutting board. The onions looked as if they had been chopped by a machine, and the pieces of meat were all the exact same size. He suppressed a smile. If Cassandra actually were a witch, he would have loved to have had her in one of his Potions classes.

They went from dinner to coffee and from coffee to a glass of wine, and when the clock struck eleven, Severus really did not want to leave. But if he wanted to catch the last bus to the city, he would have to.

The occasional hissing of a geyser in the distance was the only sound to be heard when they walked to the bus station, and if it had not been for the lights emitting from all the windows, the village could just as well have been deserted.

'You have picked a lovely place to live, Cassandra,' Severus said in a low voice.

'You are always welcome when you feel like fleeing the city,' she replied, and Severus felt goose bumps erupting on his arms. Had she just asked him to come back?

The rumbling of the arriving bus cut through the silence and kept Severus from replying. There was only one other passenger on the bus, an elderly woman who sat right behind the driver, knitting. Severus was glad for the solitude. He had quite a few things to think about on his ride home.

When he was about to board the bus, he felt Cassandra tug at his sleeve, and he turned once more to face her.

'Are you off on Thursday afternoon?' she asked, and he nodded silently.

Then Cassandra smiled. 'I had a very nice time today, Severus.'

'So did I.'

For a brief moment, their eyes locked, and before Severus knew what was happening, he felt her lips slightly brush his cheek.

'See you Thursday then,' she whispered into his ear. And before he was able to utter a sound, the doors of the bus had closed between them.

A/N:
Places mentioned in this chapter:

Hveragerði: a small town in the south of Iceland located 45 km to the east of Reykjavik. The surrounding area is part of the Hengill central volcano, and is geothermally active and experiences very frequent (usually minor) earthquakes. The town is known for its greenhouses, which are heated by hot water from volcanic hot springs.

Books mentioned in this chapter:

Den äldre Eddan: a collection of Icelandic tales about the Norse Gods, probably written between 900-1200 AD.

Nibelung Saga: The story of Siegfried, Kriemhild, Gunther, Brunhild and Hagen von Tronje. Adapted into an opera by Richard Wagner: "Ring of the Nibelung".

Aeneis – The Aeneid: Latin epic poem written by Virgil between 29 and 19 BC that tells the legendary story of Aeneas, a Trojan who travelled to Italy, where he became the ancestor of the Romans.

Magick Potions by Gerina Dunwich: contains magickal infusions, tarot meditation teas, rhyming spells, and mandrake, healing, and love potions.

The Crone's Book of Charms and Spells by Valerie Worth: contains charms, recipes or rituals take their inspiration from nature and folklore.