Many thanks to FawkesyLady for being the best beta EVER.
Alice felt Professor Snape's eyes on her as she turned away to get the tea out of the cupboard. She was unaware of just how much leg she was showing as she stretched her toes so that she could reach the top shelf. The pressure of that gaze unnerved her, and she wished that he'd just leave her in peace. Perhaps, if she was very lucky, the floor would crack open and suck one of them into the outer ring of hell. She'd gladly go, as it had to be more comfortable there, demons or no.
She dropped one teabag into a green ceramic mug, poured in the boiling water, and turned around to walk over to where he sat. She handed him the steaming mug and indicated the sugar bowl with a wave of her hand. The man made no effort at good manners, snorting in derision at the sight of the teabag floating in his mug. As she turned back to the counter, she caught him looking at her. Was he watching her bum? It was so fleeting that it was possible to convince herself she was seeing things.
Alice put three heaped teaspoons of instant coffee into her blue mug, poured in the water, and added a small splash of milk. She grabbed her pack of cheap tobacco and walked back to the table, taking her seat directly across from Professor Snape. Determined not to lose her cool, she busied her hands by opening her pack of tobacco and taking out a thin rolling paper.
Snape cleared his throat. 'How long have you lived here for?' he asked, and took another sip of his brew, wincing as the scalding liquid burned his tongue.
'Since last September', she replied, rolling a cigarette absent-mindedly, 'Professor Dumbledore helped me set up the wards.'
'I should have known,' Snape replied, 'who else would have had the idea of using Muggle chocolate as a way of getting inside?'
'Well, it is unlikely that a person who wished me harm would be bringing me sweets, isn't it? These wards are good. They keep all the people I don't like at bay.'
'Such as...?', the Professor raised an elegant brow, intrigued, and Alice chuckled quietly.
'Well, you know… Muggle authorities, door-to-door salesmen, religious nuts, Tory voters...'
'...and Death Eaters.' Snape spat, cutting her off mid-sentence. 'Why were you out without your wand? Do you know how dangerous it is out there, you stupid girl?' He barked, his voice lowering dangerously.
Alice blushed with unease, and mumbled, searching for the right words, 'The Headmaster assured me the area was safe, Professor. And I've never encountered a single Death Eater while living here.' Their eyes locked briefly, and Alice watched her Professor brace himself, schooling his features into an expressionless mask. Breaking eye contact, he studied the sleeve of his leather jacket in obvious unease, waiting for the unsaid 'until now'.
Neither spoke. Looking into the middle distance in opposite directions, Alice and Severus finished their cigarettes, lost in their own thoughts. Alice began to fidget nervously, and Snape, having regained his balance, finally broke the awkward silence. 'What did Albus make you do?' he asked, and downed the rest of his now tepid tea.
'Excuse me?' Alice replied, wide-eyed with shock. 'Wha… what do you mean, Professor?!'
'Albus Dumbledore never does anything for anyone without expecting some sort of payment', he began in his most patient voice. 'He helped you to make this place safe, but it doesn't look like you're in any sort of danger.' His eyes narrowed, and his silky voice dripped with sheer intimidation. 'Tell me, and don't bother trying to lie, what are you doing for Dumbledore?'
Alice straightened in her chair and dropped her cigarette into the ashtray. She finished her coffee, stood up, and walked back to the main kitchen area. As she picked up the kettle and re-filled it, Severus drummed his fingers on the table, waiting for her answer with growing irritation.
'Professor Dumbledore asked me to brew some potions,' Alice began in a timid voice as she switched on the kettle. 'It's… nothing more than that, sir. Just potions.' She grabbed their empty mugs and busied herself with dropping another teabag into Severus' mug, and more coffee granules into her own. Severus noted the tension in her rigid posture, but was not prepared to let her off the hook.
'Just potions?' he repeated slowly, enunciating each syllable with sharp precision. 'What kind of potions?'
Alice thanked her lucky stars when the kettle switched itself off at that moment, allowing her to turn her back to prepare the beverages. 'Just healing potions. Painkillers. Burn salves. Nothing more than that, really. Professor Dumbledore asked me to keep the Infirmary stocked up on those. He mentioned you have been… busy recently, and we don't know how this war is going to go, and it's always good to be safe than sorry...' she trailed off, then walked back to the table and set down the steaming mugs. 'What were you doing here this morning, sir?'
Professor Snape set his mug down on the table and shifted in his chair. He had been leaning forwards as he asked the questions, but now he didn't appear to be nearly as certain. Placing his hand flat on the table, he straightened up, his expression shuttering closed. He opened his mouth, and then shut it again, seeming to rethink his initial response. After another hard glance at Alice, he leaned back in the chair and looked away as he answered her half-truth with his own vague answer.
'I… live in the area', he said carefully, weighing his words lest he gave too much away.
Alice's eyebrows rose in surprise. 'Oh! Whereabouts, sir?' she asked with genuine interest.
'That... is none of your business,' Snape replied gruffly. 'Do not even attempt to look for me. If I find you prowling around my house, you will curse the day you were born', his eyes were glittering with malice, and Alice bodily felt the darkness and sincerity of that promise.
Alice nodded and dropped her gaze. 'Suit yourself,' she muttered under her breath as she reached for her tobacco and rolled yet another cigarette. She was chain smoking, something she usually avoided, but the morning's events have thrown her completely off-balance and she needed to keep her hands busy and her mind calm.
Her stomach rumbled, and she realised that she had forgotten to eat. It was nearly noon, and she was starving. She gave an apologetic smile. 'I'm sorry, Professor. I haven't had any breakfast.'
Snape nodded and stood abruptly, eager to take his leave. 'I will leave you to it then, Miss Crowley. Do keep your wand on your person at all times and do try not to get yourself into trouble. Good day.'
Without so much as a glance in her direction, he turned and Disapparated with a soft 'pop'.
A gentle wave of magic tickled Alice's mind as her wards informed her that her visitor had left her property. She exhaled a shuddering breath, trying to calm her racing heart. He knew she wasn't telling him the whole truth, and she knew that he knew. He didn't press the matter, but was she truly safe? He could have hexed her, or taken what he wanted to know directly from her mind. A nervous part of her suggested that perhaps he already had, but she had been Obliviated already? How would she know?
She suddenly felt drained and distracted. Professor Snape's very presence left her unsettled. She looked around the kitchen, desperate to distance and distract herself. Blindly grabbing the two discarded mugs, she ran over to the sink and frantically scrubbed them clean. The action didn't bring her the solace she desired - instead, she found her mind wandering.
She wasn't used to having conversations with anyone other than Fred and George. She remembered Snape's voice – silky, low and rich, expressive and versatile, going from a deep growl to a soft purr and back with astounding speed. The man ambushed her, pinned her against the fence and threatened her. He had also offered her a cigarette in a small gesture of comfort and had shown concern for her safety.
Now he was gone, and she found herself wishing that he would come back. Her spiralling thoughts confused her. She felt like she had been hit with a Confundus charm. Was she going mad? Was her perpetual loneliness causing her to cling to any familiar face, even if it belonged to the one man who terrified anyone in his wake? She shuddered with embarrassment and self-derogation when she recalled the memory of how she had followed his every move with her eyes. Alice had a hard time rectifying this version of a man with her austere Potions Master. Instead of his usual voluminous teaching robes, he was dressed in a pair of dark jeans, a black shirt and a form-fitting leather jacket. Alice found herself pondering how the slim fit of his jeans emphasised his graceful legs, and how his long, tapered fingers elegantly held his cigarette to his lips.
She snorted in disbelief. Professor Severus Snape, the Great Bat of the Dungeons, had deigned to share a smoke with her, of all people. He even accepted a cup of Tetley's without turning up his enormous nose. Then again, stranger things have happened.
'Oh, for fuck's sake!' She shook herself out of her reverie and put the mugs in the cupboard, shutting it so forcefully that its contents shook and almost toppled over. She grabbed a roll of paper towels and a bottle of disinfectant, and furiously attacking the room, cleaning up every last bit of invisible dust, sterilising her surroundings and purging them of the remaining traces of his presence. She attempted to reason with herself. It was just stress. Nothing else. It was nerve-racking to sit at the table with the dreaded Potions Master, to answer his prying questions, to look him in the eye. That was it. That had to be it.
She caught a whiff of his scent - dry vetiver and earthy cypress, cashmere wood and masculine musk. The aroma sent her falling into a fit of hysteria as she realised that, although she desperately wanted him to stay, she couldn't wait for him to go.
Overwhelmed with the weight of her conflicted emotions, Alice found herself at the end of her ability to cope. She slumped onto the chair and buried her face in her hands. Unable to stop the tears, she finally allowed herself to cry. Her body shook with the force of her sobbing, and she felt a vicious headache creeping up on her. By the time her breakdown subsided, she had fallen asleep at the table, having forgotten about her breakfast. Again.
In case anybody wonders, Snape's aftershave in this fic is Lalique Encre Noire. I know that, technically, it was only released in 2006, but it's just so... Snape.