It has been scientifically proven that FawkesyLady is the most amazing beta in our Solar System. She should be knighted, or indeed sainted, for her patience and her ideas... and her ability to rein me in when necessary. ;)
By the way, dear readers - reviews make me write faster. In fact, they motivate me to keep going with the story. Sooo... please review! ;)
Alice was dreaming. Panting and sweating, she ran through the Hogwarts' corridors, chased by the same basilisk that prowled around the school in her third year. She rounded countless corners and climbed innumerable stairs, trying to find a safe place to hide from the beast that remained hot on her heels - coming ever closer, its presence ever more menacing.
'Professor Dumbledore? Anybody? Help!' She cried as she ran through another hallway and down a flight of stairs. She was heading down to the dungeons. Great. She was bound to get lost in the complicated maze, filled with endless crossroads and dead ends. Would she get so lost that she would never find her way back, or would the monster find her first, and tear her apart with its unforgiving fangs?
Her breath came out in white puffs of air, and she realised that the dungeons were freezing cold. Tears of terror prickled at her eyelids as she rounded another corner, her legs beginning to wobble as they started to give up on her. She stammered as she nearly collided with a wall, but quickly regained her footing and kept running blindly ahead, feet burning and aching with effort, desperate to put more distance between herself and the basilisk which silently continued its pursuit.
Knock, knock, knock.
Severus shifted his weight as he waited outside Alice's front door. Plastic bags hung from his arms, filled with various foodstuffs he had acquired at the farmers market on the other side of town.
He woke up very early to ensure that he got the freshest produce. If he was going to befriend the girl, he would astonish her with his extraordinary cooking skills. Besides, he was rather hungry himself, and on a day like this, nothing but the best would do.
When the girl didn't appear after a reasonable amount of time, Severus frowned, and knocked again.
Tap, tap, tap.
She heard a strange knocking sound coming from somewhere to her left, and ran in that direction, hoping to find help. She wanted to shout out, ask if there was anybody out there, but dared not alert the basilisk to her exact location.
Her muscles were on fire, she was out of breath, and tears were streaming down her face. She lost her bearings in the stone labyrinth. The knocking sound was gone, and once again, she had no idea where to run for shelter. She looked around in panic, trying to find a hiding spot, and realised that she was in the corridor leading to the Potions classroom.
Knock knock knock
Severus was getting impatient, as he didn't get up so bloody early only to end up standing there like an idiot. He reached into his pocket – the chocolate bar was still there, and it was beginning to melt. He was certain that the chit could hear him – surely she wasn't sleeping?
Tap, Tap, Tap.
There it was again, coming from the passage on her left – this time a clearer, louder sound. She broke into a brisk jog, too exhausted to keep sprinting. Finding herself at a dead end, she brought her hands to her mouth, trying to fend off the rising nausea. Her hands were clammy and shook uncontrollably, and her breathing came in quick, short gulps.
Her side hit something hard and smooth, and Alice realised that she was standing right in front of the door to Professor Snape's office. She tried the handle – it was locked. 'Oh, no, no!' she keened, knowing she was as good as dead when she heard a low hissing sound resonating in the near distance. She was stuck.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The door frame shook with the force of Severus' pounding as he rapped at the door with enough power to wake the dead. Was she even in? For all he knew, she could have spent the night elsewhere. For all he knew, she could have had a boyfriend. He shied away from following that particular rabbit down the hole of extrapolation.
His lips thinned with distaste, and he couldn't explain why he felt a rush of anger at the idea. 'She's one of your students,' he thought to himself. 'Of course you don't want her to sleep around,' he explained to himself in his most patient mental teacher-voice.
'Oi, you!'
Severus nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard a loud, raging voice bellowing behind his back.
'Wha' do you think you're doin', standin' there makin' a mighty din?! 'S too bloody early, innit! Piss off 'fore I go down there an' knock your fuckin' lights out, you hear me?! PISS OFF!'
Tap, tap, tap.
The sound was very loud now, and was coming from inside the office. She curled up on the floor and rested her face against the door, listening for the enigmatic sound. 'Professor?' She whimpered quietly, 'Professor Snape, are you in there? Please, please help!' She began clawing at the door, pulling the handle with all her strength, begging for the door to open. She heard a muffled voice coming from within, and strained her hearing to make out the words. Shouting. Someone was inside, and they were shouting angrily.
She heard a hiss right behind her back, and knew that the chase was over. Turning around, she stared, mesmerised, into a pair of red, gleaming eyes. They were coming closer and closer, the powerful jaws opening slowly, showing off the massive yellowed teeth in their razor-sharp glory…
'PROFESSOR!' She cried as she jerked awake, her chest heaving. Trying to catch her breath, she looked around, struggling to remember who she was, and where she was.
Her gaze slid across the familiar walls of her bedroom, and she sighed with relief when she realised it was only a bad dream. Making her way to the window, she opened the faux-velvet, burnt-orange curtains, and felt much better when the bedroom was illuminated by the morning light. She heard an ongoing argument coming in from the outside, and registered that someone was knocking on her front door.
'Oh flamin' 'ell, who the fuck would that be?' She wondered as she grabbed an old Manchester United T-Shirt from the back of the nearby chair and quickly pulled it over her head. The Muggle postman? She rarely received any correspondence in that way. A parcel, perhaps? But she hadn't ordered anything lately. Was it an emergency? Fire?
She ran down the steps and paused outside the front door, fumbling with the key. She was still in distress over the terrifying dream, and her hands were a little shaky. It took a bit of jiggling about, but finally, the door opened and Alice found herself staring at Professor Snape in the flesh.
Severus was ready to turn around and hit the curtain twitching twat. The young man, a thuggish-looking reprobate, was hanging out of the upstairs window one down and was spewing abuse loudly enough for the entire street to hear.
A vein began to pulse in his temple when the lad did not shut up. Severus opened his mouth to answer with his own angry retort when the front door opened, and a sleepy looking Alice appeared. The girl's wavy hair was a tangled mess and her skin was pale with dark circles under her eyes. Someone hadn't slept well.
A look of dawning dismay spread over the girl's face as it registered exactly who was darkening her door.
'Um… Professor?' She asked in a quiet, slightly raspy voice. 'Are you alright sir? What bri...'
'Good morning, Miss Crowley,' Severus interjected, as he pushed past her and stepped inside, making his way towards the kitchen. 'How nice to see you awa … ke.' He stopped dead in his tracks, and his eyes widened momentarily as he took in the sight of Alice, who stood by the door, wearing nothing but an oversized football shirt and a pair of skimpy knickers that only just covered up her privates. She was obviously uncomfortable, her gaze averted as she chewed on her bottom lip.
'I'm sorry, Professor… I wasn't expecting to see you this morning. I'm not… dressed for visitors.'
'Quite,' Severus scoffed, and schooled his features into the picture of disinterest. He turned around and entered the kitchen, trying hard to master his physical reaction to the slip of a girl. His heartbeat quickened, and his cock twitched to attention. 'Stop it, you fool,' he mentally chided himself. 'It's not like you've never seen a woman before! You're Head of House!'
It was true – from menstrual blood to tears and snot to nudity and even copulation, Severus had seen it all in his years of tenure as Head of Slytherin. The problem was, that never before had he reacted so strongly to the sight of a student's bare legs, or to a low waistband of lacy knickers. He prided himself on his ability to remain professionally neutral, therefore his body's enthusiastic reaction to Miss Crowley's indecent state rattled him more than he cared to admit.
'Do not dally, Miss Crowley,' he bit out as he heard the girl's dainty steps making their way up the creaking stairs. 'Breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes!'
'Damn, damn, damn and blast!' Alice thought angrily as she ran upstairs, desperate to get out of Professor Snape's sight until she was satisfied that she was fit to be seen.
'Just look at the state of me! No, no, don't look. My hair's a mess. I've no makeup on! I bet I look rough as a bear's arse!'
For Alice, this was a tragedy. She was a vain creature, and her obsessive nature, which encouraged her to keep her home spotlessly clean, extended to the matters of personal appearance. She performed her morning ablutions quickly and efficiently, making sure that she was fresh, clean and scented with her favourite perfume. She twisted her hair hair into a messy bun at the nape of her neck, and began to put on a small amount of makeup.
'What the FUCK is he doing here at this hour?' She groused as she expertly tight-lined her upper lash line with a chocolate brown pencil, taking care to keep the line thin and sharp.
'Besides cooking… and if the smell is anything to go by, he's damn good in the kitchen…' She muttered under her breath as she put a coat of black mascara on her lashes.
'I wonder if… oh no - no, no, no, do NOT even go there, Alice Crowley!'
Her imagination refused to be cowed, and as she closed her eyes, the man strode into the kitchen in her mind. He was dressed in the same tight black vest that showed off his wiry, strong arms. In her mind's eye, she could see the muscles flex as he wrangled a cast-iron pan at the stove. His back was turned to her, and as she lowered her gaze it passed over a pair of dark-blue denim cut-offs that sat low on his hips, and fell just above the knee. Alice recalled how muscular his legs were, and how pleasant it was to watch him move with cat-like grace. What else had he hidden under those teaching robes?
With an effort, Alice dragged her attention back to the chore at hand. She tried to ignore the rosy blush that spread across her face as she finished off her makeup by dabbing a bit of clear gloss on her lips.
Walking into her bedroom, she opened the wardrobe and looked around, trying to decide on what to wear. She chose a pair of white linen knee-length shorts and a dark navy vest. As she dragged on the vest over her head, again her imagination presented her with her professor, standing at the hob. He turned at the hip to look back over his shoulder at her, tossing his head so the hair was out of his way as he fixed her with a curious stare. As time drew out, a single black eyebrow lifted in curiousity. Did he have to beg her to come and get it?
It was definitely getting warm in here. 'Too hot for anything fancy,' Alice mused as she pulled on her trousers. 'Maybe I'll have to ask for seconds,' she said to herself as she critically examined her appearance in the full-length mirror. 'I mean, look at this! Another pound or two and my norks will disappear completely!'
'And stop talking to yourself, you daft idiot!' She reminded herself sternly as she made her way downstairs, following the delicious scent of food.
Severus was busy frying the bacon, nearly ready to dish up when he felt Alice enter the room. He knew she was there, even though the girl made no noise and he stood with her back turned to her. His nose was assaulted by her divine, balsamic scent, which permeated through the smell of the frying food. He stealthily took a deep breath and closed his eyes in pleasure. He was quickly becoming addicted to the delightful aroma, powerful enough to fill entire rooms.
Turning his head towards the young woman, he addressed her rather more stiffly than he intended. 'Miss Crowley. Take your seat and wait for your food.'
Instead of sitting down obediently, as he expected her to, Alice reached into the cupboard and began to set the table with a brisk efficiency worthy of the most experienced housewife.
Severus' gaze slid momentarily down her lithe form, and he turned back to the stove, saying a quick prayer to Merlin as his eyes registered the girl's choice of clothes. The navy vest she was wearing fit her like a glove, emphasising her tiny waist, and, for heaven's sake - she wore no bra! Severus clenched his teeth as he desperately wished his arousal to disappear. 'Think of Dumbledore… think of Dumbledore… Albus in a swimsuit… Albus in leather… Albus in a nightie…' He mentally chanted, but nothing could take his mind off the lovely thing ghosting around the kitchen.
He piled up the plates with sausages, bacon, hash browns, beans, mushrooms, tomatoes, toast and poached eggs.
'Um… sir?' The Lovely Thing's timid voice floated over to him from across the room.
'Miss Crowley?' He replied without looking in her direction.
'Since you've cooked… shall I make the drinks?'
'By all means, Miss Crowley.'
The girl filled up the kettle and took two mugs out of the cupboard. Flicking on the switch, she turned to him, and asked, 'Tea or coffee, Professor?'
'Tea,'
'...Black, I remember,' she interjected with a small chuckle, and dropped a teabag into the green mug. 'His' mug, as he then began to think of it. He groaned inwardly at the prospect of yet another pitifully prepared brew, but decided to play nice. In the end, his ulterior motive was to gain her trust, and insulting her brewing skills would not get him very far.
He watched from the corner of his eye as Alice put three heaped teaspoons of coffee into her mug. 'Your blood pressure will go through the roof,' he blustered at her, and the girl raised an eyebrow at him in response.
'I cannot function without it, I'm afraid,' she said with a shrug. 'Besides, it's half seven in the morning. I only had 4 hours sleep at most, and I need to wake up in one way or another.'
'And just what were you doing last night?' Severus asked grumpily. So, it wasn't just him who had a restless night, it seemed, although he imagined that his student's nocturnal activities were much more pleasant than his own.
'Brewing,' the girl replied loftily. 'Nothing more, nothing less. I'm more of a homebody. I don't go out unless Fred and George…'
'Very well. Eat.' Severus cut her off abruptly, as the girl's mention of the troublesome twins had seriously grated his nerves. So, she was brewing? 'A likely story,' he thought to himself, then gave himself a mental shake when he saw the affronted look on the young lady's face. He was doing a great job at making friends. Not.
He set the plates down on the table, and promptly tucked in. He was starving, and judging by Miss Crowley's voracious expression, filled with amazement as she stared at the feast put in front of her, so was she.
He took a small sip of tea, and winced in disgust. 'This is too hot,' he said when he noticed Miss Crowley's questioning look. Seemingly satisfied with his explanation, the girl turned back to her food.
The brew was truly dreadful, even worse than the day before, but that thought was wiped out by the happiness that radiated off his dining partner.
Giving himself another mental shake, he raised one dark brow and said grumpily, 'Stop grinning like a fool, Miss Crowley. Your food will get cold if you keep gawking.' Severus felt like an idiot, dazed by a beaming teenager. It seemed that the girl was capricious, easy to agitate, and equally easy to impress. He filed the information away for future reference, thinking that it would take him one step closer to his ultimate goal.
'Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. This is truly delicious.' She said as she resumed attacking her food with vigour. Severus turned his attention onto his own plate. He noticed that the girl kept glancing at him covertly, her lips curved in a tiny, almost imperceptible smile, and he couldn't help wondering what she was thinking about.
He knew he was taking a huge risk as he sent a tendril of magic into Alice's mind. It was unlikely that she was an Occlumens, but knowing the girl's explosive nature, the consequences would be dire if he was caught invading her head without her consent. He probed her surface gently, trying to detect the merest trace of a wall. Finding that her mind was unguarded and open like a book ready to be read, he gently pushed forward, hiding in plain sight on the outskirts of her consciousness.
'Whoa…' he finally detected, and tuned in, straining to better hear her thoughts. His eyes widened and curiosity piqued, he attempted to probe a little deeper, wishing to find out just what she was referring to. 'I had no idea they came that big!'
Realising what she was thinking about, Severus blushed a deep crimson and nearly spat out his tea. Burying his face in his elbow to hide his bewilderment, he choked on the hot liquid noisily, momentarily unable to regain his balance. Was she… was she thinking about his cock?!
'Professor? Are you alright?' The girl was alarmed, and she rushed to hand him a napkin, but he stopped her by raising his hand.
'I'm… fine, Miss Crowley. I, um… the tea has gone up the wrong way. Pray continue.' He snapped as he saw the genuine concern flash across the young woman's face. Desperate to change the subject, he asked the first thing that came into his head.
'I would like to see those potions, Miss Crowley. I believe I have an obligation to check if their quality is… acceptable.' He stated, and firmly bit his tongue before the vitriolic remark about his faith, or lack thereof, in the brewing skills of the Gryffindors had a chance to escape his mouth. Yes, potions were a much safer topic for discussion, and would take his mind off the disturbingly delicious sight of the girl's nipples poking through the thin fabric of her vest.
The little minx, however, seemed hell-bent on being his undoing. Noticing that her fingers were covered in egg yolk and melted butter, she dropped her toast and put each of her fingertips into her mouth, sucking on them gently. She closed her eyes and hummed in pure pleasure, and Severus felt his mouth go dry. His control of the situation was slipping rapidly.
'Miss Crowley!' He boomed, and the startled girl looked up at him with a sharp jerk of her head, her eyes wide with innocent puzzlement, her hand hanging in mid-air.
'I'm sorry, sir. The potions? Yes, yes of course, I'll take you down to the lab as soon as we're done here…'
She wiped her hands on a napkin and shoved a piece of bacon into her mouth. She chewed quickly, her gaze fixed upon her plate.
'... Well, I call it a lab, but it's only a bench down in the basement, and it really isn't much to look at…' She trailed off again in a shaky voice, and Severus detected how tense and uncomfortable she suddenly appeared. Clearly, she was worried, and it made Severus feel much better about the whole situation. It was familiar, a safe ground, where he was in charge, and she was the grovelling student. Intimidating the girl in her own home was not the plan, but it was infinitely better than saying, or Merlin forbid - doing, something he would later regret.
'I hope you'll be… satisfied, Professor.' The girl said, and turned her attention back to her food.
'We shall see,' Severus replied, and took another sip of the now tepid tea. They finished their meal in silence, the clinking of the cutlery the only audible sound in the otherwise peaceful kitchen. Severus, however, felt as though the room was suddenly short of air, the tension so thick one could cut it with a knife.
Did the little tease know what she was doing to him? Was she aware of the forbidden, illicit reactions of his treacherous body? Was she, in fact, encouraging them? Or was she completely innocent, and it was him who was the disgusting lecher, who read too deeply into every word and every movement? Was he seeing something that wasn't - had no right to be there?
He decided that really, he wasn't truly attracted to her. He was simply desperate and starved for sex. It must be time to visit the whorehouse, to get these urges curbed. The trollops at Madam Clementine's were vulgar, well-used, and riddled with disease, but they were also imaginative and would take the edge off his frustration. He needed this to assure that he never thought of Miss Crowley's lovely body in that way again. He mused that in his current state he would have fucked Minerva or Pomona if either of them had given him the least encouragement.
When they finished their breakfast, Alice gathered their empty plates and put them in the sink. She was eager to wash them straight away, as the sight of dirty crockery piling up in the sink was especially abhorrent to her eyes. She grabbed the washing up liquid and a sponge and began scrubbing away, ensuring that every last bit of sauce and grease was gone.
She sent a small, tight-lipped smile at Snape, who was observing her with a mixture of amusement and mild irritation. 'Surely it would be easier to use a washing-up spell?' He remarked with a quirk of his eyebrow.
'No spells could ever get these as clean as a good old scrub by hand!' Alice huffed as she attacked the frying pan with a scouring pad. 'And besides, sir, isn't it your favourite punishment ever to make poor students scrub cauldrons the Muggle way in detention?'
'Those students are hardly ''poor'', Miss Crowley,' Snape drawled silkily as he nonchalantly lit a cigarette. 'And as you noticed, scrubbing cauldrons the Muggle way is supposed to be a punishment. Since you seem to enjoy it so much, I might have to come up with something less… pleasant, should you ever find yourself serving detention… under me.'
Alice rolled her eyes, choosing not to grace his remark with an answer. She dried her hands on a tea towel and, padding over to the table, found her pack of tobacco. Rolling her first, highly anticipated cigarette of the day, she sat down heavily, her belly so full she felt as though it would burst.
'I must say, Professor, your cooking is excellent. I haven't had such a wonderful breakfast in… well, since the end of term.'
'Thank you, Miss Crowley,' Snape replied as he took a deep drag. 'I spend my days chopping, grinding, boiling and simmering. I do know my way around the kitchen.'
'I'm sure your family feel very lucky to have a Potions Master in the kitchen,' Alice remarked, and stared incredulously as the man's eyes widened and his head snapped up sharply. He was looking at her as though she had grown a second head.
'I'm not sure I know what you're talking about, Miss Crowley,' he said carefully. His usual drawl was quiet and uncertain, and his expression was guarded, wary.
'Umm… your wife, sir?' Alice flushed a deep crimson and averted her gaze, feeling an odd mixture of embarrassment, irritation and nervous anticipation wash over her in waves.
'I do not have a wife, or children, not that it's any of your business,' the Professor replied in a low, dangerous growl. 'I spend enough of my days surrounded by mewling sprogs as it is.'
'I know what you're thinking, little Gryffindor do-gooder. Oh, how horribly lonely must it be, to have a quiet house in the night and no-one to help with the wash,' he mocked her coldly with a vicious snarl curling his upper lip. 'And before you decide to make any unsolicited comments regarding my life, let me tell you this - I content myself with peace and quiet, and have no desire whatsoever to have them destroyed by any woman.'
Alice swallowed thickly, intimidated by the Professor's outburst. She knew the man had a bad temper, and deciding to heed the clear warning, she whispered meekly, 'I'm sorry, sir. I shouldn't have asked.'
The man's angry snort was the only reply.
She stood up, putting out her half-finished cigarette. 'You wished to see my lab, Professor?'
Nodding, Snape stood and indicated for her to lead the way. She walked into the narrow corridor, and opened a door that led down to the basement. 'These stairs are very steep,' she warned as she began her descent. The Professor followed, and soon they found themselves in the dusty, cramped basement, furnished with a simple workbench and a small brewing station. A small variety of cauldrons was stacked in one corner, and a small cart was tucked under the bench, filled with ladles, knives, stirring rods and other necessary accessories. A simple wooden shelf, installed on the far wall, housed a limited amount of ingredients needed for brewing basic potions.
'I know it isn't much,' Alice stammered as she studied her shoes, 'But it does the job. I only brew simple medicines, so I've no need for anything fancy.'
The Professor looked around the small space, his lips drawn in a tight-lipped expression of disapproval. Alice felt very self-conscious to be put on the spot, knowing that the man probably thought it beneath him to set foot in such a shabby 'lab'.
'May I see the potions, Miss Crowley? I doubt anything made in here would be suitable for anything other than the sewers.'
Alice's mouth hung open as she absorbed the man's acerbic remark. Sewers, eh? Alice knew very well that her potions were nearly, if not just as good as his own. She narrowed her eyes momentarily, imagining all sorts of horrible things she would have loved to do to her teacher in that moment, and stomped over to the cart in a huff.
She picked up a vial of cold-relief potion and a tub of burning salve, and presented them to Snape with a sweetly venomous smile. 'Here, Professor. Please, do check them and let me know immediately if you have any concerns regarding their quality. After all, the work produced by a student reflects on the teaching ability of the Master, does it not?'
A muscle twitched in the sour wizard's face as he snatched the proffered samples from Alice's hand and held them up to the dim light of the overhead lamp, inspecting both items for any visual imperfections, foreign bodies or undesirable colour. Finding everything to be in order, he uncapped the healing potion and sniffed it, then set it aside on the bench. He opened the tub of salve and rubbed a small dollop between his fingers, checking the texture and consistency. Finally, he looked at Alice, his aquiline nose firmly turned up, a derogatory snarl gracing his mouth. His eyes bore into hers as he passed his judgement.
'Adequate.'
Alice turned around and shut her eyes firmly, slowly counting to ten in her head. Adequate? ADEQUATE?! These potions were of much higher quality than what was sold in most apothecaries, and he had the gall to call them 'adequate'?! She was tempted to turn around and give him a piece of her mind, but knowing that it was not in her best interest to do so, remained silent.
Seething inwardly, Alice put the potions back in the cart, and schooled her features into the picture of politeness and modesty. She would have to ask Barry to shit on the spiteful old wanker's head later.
Severus could not take his eyes off Alice as she climbed up the steps. Her hips swung from side to side like a pendulum, and he was hypnotised by the movement. To his chagrin, there was no escaping the alluring, highly inappropriate view, unless he wanted to climb the stairs with his eyes shut. Choosing not to risk falling down and breaking his neck, he allowed his gaze to remain on the young witch's round, firm posterior.
The insolent chit had managed to catch him out several times during his short visit. He could not believe her impudence as she pried into his personal matters involving his non-existent love life. What business was it of hers anyway? Severus felt that his vitriolic response was completely justified under the circumstances. He did not want or need anybody's pity - especially not hers. She was only a foolish, insignificant little Gryffindor who knew nothing about the hardships of life. Even less did she know of true love. Oh, if only he could put her over his knee and spank that pert arse for the sheer audacity…!
It was so satisfying to put the girl firmly back in her place by refusing to acknowledge the pristine quality of her work. The samples were flawless - he had to admit that he himself would have been hard put to produce something better. These were, however, the most basic of healing potions, and it was not exactly the world's greatest achievement to brew them perfectly.
He paused and closed his eyes for a moment, putting a lid on his impure thoughts. He willed his heartbeat to slow and his cock to deflate. His arousal died the instant he imagined a stark-naked Hagrid doing the Macarena, and he climbed the rest of the stairs. Miss Crowley stood in the doorway, regarding him with the ghost of a smirk hovering around her lips.
'Are you alright, Professor?' She purred smugly as she casually leaned against the doorframe in a way that was far too inviting for his liking.
Groaning inwardly, he graced her with an angry scowl, and waved his hand in a manner reminiscent of chasing away an annoying fly. 'I am. Do kindly stop prying, Miss Crowley, Your concern is unwanted.'
He could have sworn that the witch rolled her eyes as she walked back into the kitchen and began rolling a fag absent-mindedly. He was tempted to stay for a while longer, to share a cigarette and then take his leave, but for some reason he refused to acknowledge, he was desperate to get away from the witch who had nearly managed to make him lose his self-control so many times in such a short amount of time. The meek and obedient student he knew was replaced with an irresistible temptress, and Severus wasn't sure if he could trust himself not to bite into the forbidden fruit if he stayed for a minute longer.
'I am going to leave now, Miss Crowley,' He announced, taking a last, quick look around the lovely bright kitchen. He was reluctant to leave, but it had to be done.
'No time for a fag before you go, Professor?' Alice asked in a tone of studied indifference . Was she hoping for him to stay? Or did she want him to go?
'I am sure you have a lot of … fascinating things to do today, but unlike you, I do not have the luxury of bumbling around during the holidays.'
The tension drained momentarily from her frame. She nodded, and turned her attention to her cigarette, ostensibly ignoring him.
The girl was sulking, and Severus felt a little guilty. Perhaps he had been too hard on her. The girl had been a gracious enough hostess, and had paid him many compliments, just to be sneered at and belittled in return. Attempting to soften the blow of his rudeness, he added, 'I have matters of great importance to discuss with the Headmaster. Good day.'
Without waiting for an answer, he turned on the spot and promptly Disapparated. He never saw Alice bang her fist on the table.