(Sorry this took a while, life has been a bit... intense lately. I'm attempting to run/start a business. There are so many spreadsheets. I also have a prompt for you guys. What type of prank would you like seen played on Snape? Thanks for reading, this chapter is a doozy.)
That Monday evening he walked briskly down the street. He had opted for an hour-long walk to her house instead of apparating, mainly to give him time to think.
He had spent the day reading and making more of his sun lotion, just in case. It had gone as well as it could have with rather older ingredients, but he had a stash in case his current supply ran out. After a day of dealing with frustratingly near spoiled ingredients this would, hopefully, be a pleasant interaction, a puzzle of the social kind.
This was, ostensibly, a date. What did one do on dates? He hadn't had a date in… ever. He knew one gave gifts, thus the bloody manacles disguised as chocolate. One talked. About what? What in Salazar's name would he find to talk about with this Muggle woman? Weather? That would get boring fast and quickly make her never wish to see him again. Perhaps he could talk about teaching. And annoying children. He remembered enough chemistry to fake science class terms and took enough arithmancy to understand basic algebra. He could definitely boast theater as an extracurricular item with all the times he'd had to pretend to enjoy idiotic conversations. Besides that… They could talk about food perhaps, cooking was akin to potions. He didn't know if she read, but perhaps they could discuss literature. Or Connor's obsession with animals. Yes, he could manage a conversation with a muggle surely. He'd navigated far more dangerous verbal waters.
He continued his mental foray into doubt while his feet made their own headway. He met his concerns head on and laid them, mostly, to rest alongside the sound of his footfalls. Feeling more confident by the time he arrived he briskly knocked on Clara's door and waited. He heard her moving inside and took a few steps back.
He knew his goal here, but how to achieve it? On a date one talked, as he had thought before; in an attempt to ascertain compatibility. He had no interest in long term compatibility in the most common sense, theoretically, but it would be good to determine that he wouldn't want to kill her after two days in her basement. How could he ingratiate himself but not… well no one would seriously consider him as a romantic partner. ….But then why had she asked him to her house a second time? He would need to dissuade her of any thoughts of such long term compatibility while still remaining friends. Well… need was a rather strong term, he should dissuad her. How to do that though? How to do that without revealing anything important too quickly, or anything that would get him arrested or killed? Perhaps they could cook something, they both enjoyed the act and it would allow him to observe her in a setting something akin to one he was used to. Maybe-
There was a small heartbeat, and that was the only warning. An owl swooped down, a familiar one. Albus'. He cursed as the barn owl dived for him and dropped a letter on his head. The bird was as annoying and impetuous as ever, and just as big an interfering menace as its owner. Somehow it was more brash though! Swooping around at night in a muggle town; he was tempted to blast it out of the sky. At least the old man hadn't used Fawkes. He picked up the letter and glared at the circling avian.
"Shoo! Go away! I don't have treats for you, you idiot bird."
It hooted loudly and dived at him again as the door opened.
"Hello Stefan, I- what in the world?"
Shit, of course she would see this. "I don't know, the ruddy thing must be diseased, or insane, or-" He said as he waved the letter around trying to get it to leave.
"Or…You're a wizard. That would explain quite a bit."
An arctic wind took his veins then. Snape stared, gales of panic buzzing in his ears as his mind worked frantically to figure out the situation. Although the buzzing sounded an awful lot like the curse words rushing through his head.
Fuck. Fucking fuck. Fucking Merlin's saggy left testicle. Fuck! He was going to have to do something, but what? He needed more information. Was she a squib? Would she tell people about him? Who was she? Damnit! Did she know pureblood families? Was she kicked out or just being shunned? Or was she actually just a muggle? Fuck, he'd never thought to check! This was surely a breach of…. multiple statutes if she was just a muggle. But calling the aurors…. And how did she know? Did her son? Godsdamnit! Who had told her, how many people would he need to fucking obliviate? Or eat, or-no. He'd decide later because-
The flapping of wings, near silent. Nearly unnoticeable even to him, if he wasn't paying attention. Dammit he'd gotten lax! He ducked as the bird hooted and dived once more. He needed to deal with this bloody bird before deciding anything!
Clara gestured him inside and he ducked down and past her. He looked out the door as the bird hooted annoyedly before flying off. Fucking pest. He then stepped in further and Clara closed the door behind him. He looked at her, trying to decide whether to tip his hand. She chose for him.
"Wizards use owls for post, don't they? And you're holding a letter, that is…well, it has a bit of down on it." Said Clara pointing to the letter, it did in fact have some down stuck in the corner. Snape pocketed it then regarded his 'date'. He quickly made his decision.
"You mentioned wizards? You think you are aware of some hidden world?" He said, not actually confirming anything.
"A bit. My great grandfather was a sbib."
"A sbib? That… doesn't sound right. It follows no linguistic patterns that I'm aware of. Perhaps… Sguib? Skib?" He said, attempting to lead her to the answer without supplying it himself in an attempt to see if she actually knew anything. A guess based on her butchering of the word.
"Squib! That's it!"' She snapped her fingers together in affirmation. "He would tell all us grandchildren stories of the wizarding world. He was senile of course, at 102, but we listened all the same. At least we thought he was senile, he had to be a little bit if he was telling children stories of a world that was meant to be secret. He would always end every story by telling us it was a secret and we shouldn't tell anyone ever, but trusting children was foolish. So many afternoons spent listening to him ramble on about goblins and elves and wands and magic. It was all good fun." She said, looking off into the middle distance briefly, perhaps a longing for the innocence of the time. She refocused quickly and continued.
"I stayed when the rest of my siblings got bored, listened to him and kept him company until he passed when I was ten. Never believed a word of it. Until my 18th birthday when I got to inherit what he left me. A single envelope with a card and a picture of him as a young boy, that moved. But I remembered he said that it was a secret, so I did just that. Kept it a secret. Went to therapy over it, but I managed." Clara shrugged and sighed sadly then looked up at Snape and smiled. "And now you're here. God really does work in mysterious ways!"
"Indeed." Snape said, hiding his unease at the mention of God. His father had been religious, most wizards were not. It had created more than a little friction in his house, more than a few bruises.
He looked at her closely, she was tense, and obviously nervous. Not unexpected. They both were after this little revelation. The fact that she knew, and had kept this secret for a long dead man, doubting, wondering, for years… It told him a lot about her sense of honor and duty. Still, it didn't tell him what to do next. In fact what would either of them do next? What were the possible…paths after this and where did they lead?
"So you've been here for how long?" She asked, gesturing to the kitchen as a kettle whistled. She obviously was going to go with 'ignoring the absolute insanity that was happening and pretending they shouldn't be hyperventilating or panicking' path. He could follow suit, he had been playing at staying sane and composed for years. He nodded and moved along with her, trying to figure out what to do as well; besides answer her question.
"Since I was a child, but I am not home often."
"Off riding broomsticks and chasing dragons I suppose?" Said Clara with a half real wistful smile as she poured the steaming water into a waiting teapot.
"I was not lying when I said I teach children. I teach potions, not theater, however." He said, finally confirming that he was indeed a wizard.
"Oh that sounds wonderful!"
"I assure you. It is not." He said with a scowl. "It is torturous, but at least somewhat rewarding knowing they won't blow themselves up after they graduate."
"That's… that's something that can happen?" All traces of the wistful look vanished from her face and she almost overfilled the teapot. She caught herself and finished setting up the tea and brought the tray over, concern in her eyes. Snape had a feeling she was imagining her son as a wizard, accidentally blowing off his hand.
"Most definitely. Amongst other far more horrifying results." Said Snape. He set the chocolate dish on the counter.
"I am very glad I am a… mujjle?"
"Muggle."
"Yes, I am very glad Connor and I are muggles then."
"Yes, being a muggle does tend to be slightly less hazardous to one's health usually. Most wizards and witches have long life spans… if they survive. Being killed in a duel, burned alive by a dragon, or just being plain incompetent when it comes to practicing magical safety, many lose their lives from the last one more so than dragons or chimera's."
Clara shuddered briefly. "Yes. I'm rather glad we're muggles. I'm fairly sure I would be unable to stop Connor from running off to research kelpies or unicorns, if those are things."
"They are."
"And just plain magical mishaps…" she shuddered again. "My uncle cut off his finger as a result of being incompetent with a saw." She paused to pour the tea into the cups as she shook her head. "I can't imagine what a magical hospital would be filled with."
"You don't want to."
"I'll attempt to refrain then." She held out the tea cup with a smile and then a look of clarity. "Oh, I suppose Connor really may have seen you turn back from a bat then?" She inquired as he took the offered tea, refusing all fixings for it.
"He did in fact. An error on my part." Snape said before taking a sip. He pondered briefly, just how much to reveal to her. He looked at the woman. Dates were about talking, he could talk and obliviate her later if he wanted. This could prove… therapeutic. For both of them if she'd been hiding this secret for so long, not fully trusting her sanity. He had secrets as well, unburdening one or two on someone who wouldn't remember, or care, might be nice. It had been… stressful but relieving to share the truth with Minerva. This was less stressful by far and he was calm enough and had time enough that he was confident in his ability to correctly obliviate. Still, should he?
"That's amazing! Can all wizards do that!?"
Snape shook his head, he was going to take a risk, it wasn't like he wouldn't have had to eventually. The woman was far too smart to accept any concocted reason why he'd prefer the basement if she let him make use of it. It'd be amusing to reveal it now though, to say the least. It would soothe a deep need he had in him. He hadn't had students around to torment as frequently as he was accustomed to. True, the utter terror he'd been inflicting as of late had been quite nice, but he missed the subtle fear he was more used to. He'd been rather indulgent as of late, what was one more indulgence? Besides having to chase her down and obliviate her he saw no real negative outcome. He should be obliviating her anyway. Not that he'd risk that in depth of an obliviate. So… He looked at her, innocent and waiting expectantly for an answer. She had everything he had once wanted it seemed; peace, family… self acceptance. She seemed perfectly calm, her heart told him such. It would be so satisfying to shatter her perfect world, if, hopefully, only briefly. He was weak, to give into such cruelty, but he was who he was. He shook his head again.
"A wizard who has mastered such a transformation is called an animagus. It takes quite a bit of training to do that. I have not undergone such training so that is not why I can turn into a bat."
"Really? So why can you then?" Clara said, stirring her tea with a smile, completely unaware he was about to upend her world in a far more tumultuous manner than he already had.
"It most likely has to do with the fact that I am a vampire." He held back the smirk as Clara froze. Ahhh, that fear scent, that rapid heart beat; wonderful. He could see her knees shake slightly, although only once. He nodded at her as he took another sip of tea. "Ah, good. You're not one of those muggles infatuated with the very idea of me."
"Please. I have a son." She said, her voice quaking as she gripped the cup tightly.
He raised a brow. "Yes, I've met him. He has nothing to do with why I'm here." Snape said, pretending not to notice her fear or understand the hidden meaning behind her statement.
"Why are you here?" She asked, anxiously and absentmindedly changing her grip on her cup and saucer with shaking hands.
"You invited me, and I'm hungry." Snape breathed in the scent of fear again, relishing it. He would definitely want to eat after this. He knew he was being cruel, but it was far too much fun.
"For my… blood?" The teacup in her hands shook, tea nearly spilling over the sides.
Snape shook his head and smiled, a real smile. It's not like this woman would ever tell anyone he knew. No one would believe her about him being a vampire and she was quite aware. It was equally improbable that anyone would believe he had smiled, if she did run into someone he knew. Besides, she would not be able to tell anyone, depending on how the night went.
"No. For that dish you served me last week. Unless you have something else prepared?"
The shaking lessened and her face twisted with confusion. "Macaroni? Mac and cheese? Surely you have that in your world? And what would a vampire want with it?" The look of incredulity and curiosity on her face was… refreshing. This woman emoted so freely, so wantonly. She showed emotions as if she didn't care what people thought of her. He envied her that ability.
"Surprisingly, no. Not like yours. I want to make it for my colleagues. It will confuse them to no end. I have also, as a gift, brought something in return. Something appropriately vampiric." He removed the cloth from the top of the dish. The custard was in a copper bowl, oranges and star anise to one side of the white plate the bowl sat on.
"Sanguinaccio dolce. Custard made with blood, pig's to be precise. Very decadent. Consider it a gift, and an apology for the stress I have no doubt just put you through."
"I…Uhm. Thank you." She was tense, even more so now, but she was no longer shaking. They'd see how this went. Her hand was clutching her tea cup still, but now he noticed she had been purposefully shifting it so that she had it braced in an odd way. She wasn't holding it through the handle alone, her thumb was pressed on the rim, her ring and pinky wrapped around the cup itself. …She was holding it in preparation to break it, possibly defend herself with the ragged edges. He glanced at her other hand holding the saucer, by the edges still, but gripped ready to slam it on the table and maybe slice his throat. She had done this deliberately and yet made it seem a nervous fiddling movement instead of anything with a modicum of forethought. It was an impressive bit of subterfuge. She was talking as if this were a normal conversation, but seemed ready for it to devolve quickly. He had a feeling she had had such situations happen repeatedly while bartending.
"It should be in the fridge if you are not planning on eating it immediately." He said, trying to divert her attention from the fact that they both knew she wouldn't stand a chance against him, sharp porcelain defenses or no. He would need to tread carefully, show that just because he could in fact do literally anything, and many things she could not think of, to her, did not mean he would. Or at least, not abuse it. Of course, their definition of such a thing might be very different. He looked her in the eye. He was quite aware of what she felt like right now, he had felt it himself on many occasions. When he'd taken his mark, when he died, any time he had stood in front of the Dark Lord. Perhaps he should have waited to tell her of his nature, or attempted to never tell her. But then, if she did find out, how much trust would she place in him again? He did not know her well enough to know if she was forgiving of, or understanding of the necessity for, lies. Although, as a parent of a toddler she might.
He brought himself out of that quick deliberation as she shook her head. "No, I was hoping I could prepare something… with you. I got the feeling from your questions that you cooked, I guess I was right."
"Yes, I just don't get to enjoy it as much. Food doesn't have much flavor usually."
"Oh… That's sad."
"Indeed. That does not mean I don't enjoy the act of cooking though. So, shall we?"
"I… sure." She said, the uncertainty in her voice accentuated by the way the teacup rattled and nearly fell off the edge of the counter when she set it down. He quickly pushed it further inward before it could fall with a small flick of his wrist. She smiled, eyes sparkling at the show of magic. She stammered her thanks and he nodded, and felt the tension drop ever so slightly.
Over the next hour or so she relaxed slowly. He watched and commented as she cooked the noodles and he prepared the cheese. He cut half the vegetables, suitably impressing her with his knife skills. She cut the other half, suitably impressing him with hers. She waved him off saying that she made sure she was able to take over for any position at her restaurant at a moment's notice. If that meant taking a cooking class or ten from one of her cooks, then that's what had to happen.
They both worked together discussing seasonings. They both reached for the pepper and the blush that grew on her face when their hands met was quite unexpected. The increase in her heart rate was doubly so.
Really? Had her fear dissipated so quickly? He looked sideways to the slight blush on her cheeks. Perhaps it had been a while, that could be the only explanation for such a positive reaction towards him. There was no fear scent after all, even though there should be. Perhaps it was just nerves. Yes, it had to be just nerves. No sane woman would look at him twice after he had told them he was undead. After he'd upended their worldview less than half an hour ago. Of course, since when had he had the luck to run into a sane woman?
"Ok. Now we need to grate more cheese, pepperjack this time, and measure out the bread crumbs. We also need regular salt now, not the coarse stuff I used for the pasta water."
He surreptitiously cast his eye over the woman next to him as she turned away to grab the cheddar from the refrigerator.
She was skinny, below average weight, but not by much. Her hair was like her son's, and tied up for cooking. A tiny bit had fallen, framing her face with slight curls born of being in a tight bun all day. Her face was not traditionally beautiful, rather plain in fact. She did, however, have amazing legs attached to an equally satisfying… hips. At least from what he could see with the jeans. Her loose blouse showed off little on that front, but there were hints that weren't totally displeasing. She most certainly was not ugly. All in all she was normal, average.
As in leaps and bounds above his own visible exterior, at least from what others told him. He'd never put much care or stock into his appearance. It was a lost cause and he had other far more impressive traits.
"Ok, pour ⅓ of the noodles into the baking dish." Said Clara breaking him out of his reverie and he quickly pretended he had not been cataloguing her body by regarding the recipe.
"It says half of them here."
"Well it doesn't spread the cheese out enough, and I like to put a few layers in. I also added breadcrumbs to the top last time. Did you like that?"
"It added texture to an otherwise uniform dish alongside the peppers." He affirmed.
"That's what I thought. I was also going to try paprika on the top alongside Parmesan the next time I made it. Do you mind if I try that tonight?"
Snape shook his head. So the woman liked to experiment in the kitchen, like he did in the potions lab. Where else might she like to- He pushed the thought away. He needed to find out if his assumptions about her interest were correct, and do so in such a way that didn't imply anything. He wasn't sure he wanted that type of… relationship here. Even a purely casually sexual one. It could ruin his plans. The expectations, emotional entanglements, that came with sex and bliss complicated things. It was a rare person indeed who could hold their emotions separate from sex in a long term relationship of any kind. He was certain he could, though he had never tried, never had the opportunity to. He… really shouldn't be considering it now.
He glanced back at her. He'd be happy to bring her upstairs, he'd also be quite happy to drain the woman dry during the end and he didn't want that. He was in control now, but that fear was still there, maybe it always would be. If… that happened it would mean he'd have to kill the boy too after all. One did not leave loose ends, especially ones that might search for revenge. And he most definitely didn't want that, loose ends or pedicide.
While he could quite easily pretend such an act didn't bother him in front of the required people, it honestly would. Killing children was a horrible thing to do, and though he had done it out of necessity, he didn't enjoy it. Ivan, the little brat, had been an exception to the rule. A marauder in the making, and perhaps a Death Eater or Dark Lord down the line if Albus' paranoia was to be believed. He wasn't sure it was true, but he had to admit the child had been a bully and a health hazard. Still, killing and eating the boy had been a conflicting task to say the least. Enjoyable in the moment due to hunger and petty revenge, but best not thought about too often lest he risk a deeper self examination than was really safe.
After all, the fact that the boy was a child was incidental. He didn't enjoy it because it was pedicide, the idea still repulsed him in fact. He hadn't enjoyed killing for the sake of killing… ever. He hadn't enjoyed killing to rid the world of 'muggles' for a very long time. What he did enjoy was eating. He had enjoyed that particular meal because he had been starving. Still, if he could leave his victims alive that would be preferred in… many cases, pleasure from a fading heart aside. Besides there being a lot fewer possible problems, wanton death of innocents held no appeal to him, not like it did his ex compatriots. Any deaths besides theirs, the Dark Lord's, and his own eventual release, held no spot in his mind on the regular. Well, and the Marauders.
His fantasies however, the red ones, that was where wanton death became a delicious dream. If it wasn't him enjoying the shocked faces of his compatriots as life faded from their eyes and they slid down his throat one after another, it was other faceless or forbidden meals. He pushed the thoughts away. It would be a bad idea to enter those fantasies here. He brought himself back to the present dilemma as she poured noodles and he grated even more cheese. An obscene amount of cheese in fact.
He returned to the problem of whether she was actually interested, just flirting for the sake of it, or blushing because she was mortified at touching him. He could most definitely be reading the signs wrong. In fact, he most probably was. There was no way she was interested in him. While it would be nice to enter a physical relationship that wasn't predicated on favors, money, blood, or prestige for once, it was highly unlikely such a thing would ever happen. It was also probably a bad idea. Of course that didn't stop most men.
He stepped back and nodded as she picked up the paprika and shook it over the parmesan he had grated and placed on top, then sprinkled the remaining breadcrumbs on. As he gathered up the last bit of cheese she put away the salt and pepper and other spices she had added earlier when he was grating cheese and admiring her…. Hips.
Snape regarded the woman. She was tense. Not just from his presence. The woman was tired. Perhaps it would be nice to have some type of… something with her. Something normal and mortal. Now was not the time to entertain such things though. He had a mission. He had multiple missions. And promises. Had he not just been thinking about the fact that now was not the time for a relationship? Of course, it didn't have to be that type of relationship. Right, his goal. Ascertain compatibility; IE that they could live together without attacking each other and that she would be amenable to offering him asylum if needed.
Clara was leaning over the stove, checking the temperature against the recipe and holding the pan of pasta. He leaned over and took it, opening the oven.
"You've checked the temperature five times, I'm sure it is correct."
She jumped a bit but smiled at his pronouncement. As he stood up from closing the oven he smirked and nodded.
"And we have how much time?
"Forty five minutes."
"What would you care to fill it with?" He queried, keen to let her decide so he could learn more about her likes and dislikes. He prayed she wouldn't suggest the television.
"How about that chocolate?"
"Wonderful idea. Set yourself up a dish."
"Why don't you let me dish you up as well?" She asked, pausing as she opened the fridge.
"First of all, I made it for you and your son. Secondly, remember, I don't taste most food. I have my own I made specifically for me."
She paled. "With h-human blood?"
Shit. He shouldn't have said that. "Yes. And before you ask, I bought it." Strictly speaking, true.
"So… you don't go around hunting humans?" She queried nervously.
Snape frowned and shook his head. "I did not say that. But I'd recommend you don't ask questions you'd rather not know the answer to. Be assured that I try not to kill people, and your family is in no danger."
"Try…"
Snape sighed. This conversation was going predictably well. "If you had not eaten in a week and an apple walked in front of you, would you be able to not eat most of it? The problem is that for me 'most of it' means someone is dead. I try to eat frequently to prevent such incidents."
"When was the last time you ate?"
"Yesterday."
"Y-you don't eat everyday?"
"I used to not eat for years. Now I'd very much like to move onto any other topic." He said gratingly.
"Oh." The slight flush on her cheeks returned and she smiled. "One more question?"
"If you must." He said dismissively.
"May I see them? Your fangs?"
Snape barely succeeded in holding back an automatic glare at such an impertinent, rude, and shocking question. Of all the things to ask, why would she ask that? Perhaps proof? After all, to most muggles he looked human. "No. And you will not see them unless I'm biting someone. Preferably you." He said silkily, and he watched her shudder a bit.
She seemed torn between backing away and raising an eyebrow in confusion. She did neither and just crossed her arms. "Preferably?"
"Indeed. The only instance I can think of where you would see me bite someone else would be a fight. I'm not a messy eater but when I fight my opponents tend to look rather… dead after. I would-"
He was interrupted by a snort as Clara held up her hand to her mouth to cover a smile.
He coughed and continued as if nothing had happened. "I would prefer to retain your good opinion if I defend you instead of…"
The snort turned into a snicker. He raised a brow and frowned in annoyance and confusion which only caused her snickers to turn into a full blown laugh. His comment had not been that funny. In fact it hadn't been funny at all to his mind. He had been hoping to draw her into a discussion about how she defended herself at the bar perhaps. He stepped back and waited as she propped herself up on the counter with an elbow to wheeze a moment and then looked at him. He raised a brow again and she devolved back into her previous state, shaking her head and waving her hands in a gesture asking him to stop, despite the fact that he had done nothing. She coughed and headed toward the hall, leaning on the door jam and hiding her very red face from him. Soon enough she wiped a tear from her eye and exhaled shakily as she turned back around.
"Your attempts at… at… comfort are so bad. Just… so bad."
Snape frowned (although it was more of a put out pout, but no one was going to tell him that). He felt mildly affronted but was quite aware of his failings on that front. "I hadn't noticed." He said dryly. "Although, it seems I've succeeded inadvertently at least."
She smiled and shook her head. "That you have. Shall we, I, have some dessert?"
He grabbed a bowl from a cupboard he'd seen them in earlier, carefully putting some of the chocolate from the fridge in the smaller bowl, followed by an orange slice. He conjured a spoon, as he had no clue where hers were, and after putting everything else back, handed her the bowl.
"Wow, this is beautiful."
"It tastes better than it looks, I assure you." He said following her to sit down on the couch. He watched as she put a spoonful in her mouth. Her shoulders slumped slightly and held back his smirk.
"You weren't kidding. I'm pretty sure that if you told me you were a vampire and then handed me this, I'd have invited you in anyway."
"Let's hope not. So far I've gained a modicum of respect for you, seeing you act in such a stupid manner would cause it to vanish completely."
She snorted as she took another spoonful. "A modicum of respect, I'm honored."
"You should be. Anyone who knows me will tell you I respect very few people."
"I don't doubt it. You seem like my grandpop. Absolutely hated 90% of the population. Liked his wife, his son and daughter, loved me and my brother, and was partial to the librarian whom he played checkers with. I'm pretty sure he hated everyone else."
"Sounds like a highly intelligent man." Said Snape as he watched her take another spoonful and a bite of orange.
"When it came to astro physics, yes. When It came to board games, sure. When it came to fixing things around the house, great. Anything else, he had absolutely no interest in learning."
"Astro… physics?" Snape recognized both words individually, together though, that was new.
She raised her brows in surprise. "Do… You not know what physics is?"
Snape snorted. "I understand that there are laws and rules that reality follows. Gravity, friction, and the like, I am not completely unfamiliar with science."
"Yes, well those rules can all be boiled down to mathematical equations. Like the most famous is E=MC squared. The energy in something is equal to the mass of an object multiplied by the speed of light squared, as in multiplied by itself once. Basically what it's stating is that the energy in something is based on its mass, which means, a physical object is the same as its energy. Energy and mass are the same, and can be changed into each other given the right conditions. It's… Oh I've completely lost you haven't I." She said looking at his expression. She indeed had. He did not like that feeling. He needed to regain some control of the situation.
"I believe I understood the last sentence. Mass and energy are interchangeable; it makes sense." He waved his wand and conjured a metal ball from the air. "Considering that in theory I just used the energy in the air around me and turned it into something solid. Or perhaps I changed the air into something solid."
Clara stared, then shook her head. "What type of metal is it?"
"Pardon?" He looked at her, curious as to why that would matter.
"What type of metal?"
Snape looked at the ball in his hand, he hadn't really thought about it. He vanished it and conjured specifically iron, something one needed to be able to do if they required a specific type of stirring rod and say accidentally melted their other one, or had a student melt it. The summoned one wouldn't work for every type of potion, and would be more unstable, prone to melting, but it would work in a pinch for a day or two. He held the heavy ball and presented it to Clara. "This is iron."
"Then you aren't using the air particles because it would take quite a bit of energy to turn one element into another, as in the inside of a star levels of energy."
Snape smirked. "I do believe our realities operate under different rules." He said as he vanished the orb. "You see, while what you said may be true, the fact that I can do this…" He incanted under his breath and with a wave the potted plant nearby turned into a rabbit, a green rabbit with leafy ears, but a rabbit. He scowled and waved he wand and undid it. "Well, that rather breaks most of your rules I think. Even if it is fake and will only last for a few days at most. However, I could take say a bird and turn it into a cup and back again. I unfortunately have never been very good with living transfiguration of anything besides myself. Either way, the ability to turn one object into another, transfiguration, is a staple of magic. A type of magic even. Conjuration, summoning things from thin air, is considered a branch of transfiguration, so I must assume we are transfiguring something."
She stared at the plant for a minute, her face blank as she tried to regain her train of thought. He watched about a thousand questions attempt to burst from her mouth at once. Still, she succeeded in reining in her mind and returned her gaze to him to continue where they had left off. "Molecules maybe? The building blocks of everything, made out of atoms?"
"I remember learning about atoms. What are they again?"
"Something made of even smaller particles held together by different types of energy that either feel the need to fill up space, or leave it alone."
"Positive and negative?" He added, vaguely remembering that from the textbooks he'd skimmed back when he'd been imprisoned in Albus' untraceable chamber.
"Basically."
"And what does this all have to do with… math again?"
"It can all be represented by numbers. Very simply put, astrophysics is the study of the equations used to calculate the interactions of things on a planetary scale, such as the force needed to leave our atmosphere, or the gravity the earth exerts on the moon and vice versa."
"And gravity is-"
"The force everything exerts on everything else, pulling towards each other."
Snape scowled slightly at the interruption. "Yes, I am aware of gravity. But where does it come from?" He asked genuinely curious.
"Mass."
"Why? How?" Asked Snape. The answer could lead to the modification of spells, perhaps the creation of new ones.
Clara sighed and shrugged. "We don't know. Graviton particles? That's the problem, every time we get closer to an answer we get more questions. Don't you have that problem?"
Snape shook his head. "No. We have various laws, things that we know magic cannot do, and some attempt to push them, but most do not ask why."
"Well that's boring."
Snape smirked. "You have no idea. I asked why bat wings interacted with acacia in a specific way and just got stared at. The problem is it's rather difficult to quantify why or how with magic. I have created numerous spells, and as far as I can tell you it is about intent and willpower. I started with words and wand movements, but now can do most of my spells silently and without a focus, my wand."
Clara sighed as she spooned up another bit of the desert. "It would be so nice to be able to combine our worlds."
"I assure you, it would create catastrophe. Not only are our culture's significantly different, but the cures we have for ailments would be so sought after I'm sure that it would upset your entire economy."
"What, can you cure cancer?" She said as she stuck the spoon into her mouth quickly. He saw something in her eyes when she asked the question, a hint at some long ago wish.
"I have no idea, wizards are mostly resistant to muggle maladies. We have our own, and they are just as bad. I, for instance, am inflicted with vampirism. It is technically a malady, and there is no cure. Many of our maladies render the victims no longer human, such as myself again. I can at least say I've retained my mind though, others cannot. Also, some of our cures work off the person's magic, as muggles they wouldn't work for you. There would be war because people would not accept that as an answer."
"Pity, it'd be a shame to see wizards wiped out."
Snape blinked. "You…. you think muggles would win?"
"You think wizards would? How many of there are you?"
"About 3000 in the UK and Ireland alone. Why?"
"The sheer numbers would make it rather difficult for you to win." She waved the spoon tauntingly.
"I am not sure this is a good discussion to have if I want to remain in your good graces." Said Snape with a raised brow.
Clara laughed. "What else shall we talk of then? Politics? Religion? Are those safer?"
"Considering my strong dislike for both, most likely not. Most wizards are not religious as some of the things we deal with rather make it… problematic. That is not to say we are not spiritual. Many do practice rituals, offerings to magic herself or such. Many Druidic rituals came from our practices. Either way, so as to not break your world view I rather think it is a topic we should avoid."
Clara snorted. "I highly doubt anything you say would break my world view. And yes, you may view that as a challenge."
Snape looked at her, cocky and self assured. Should he break that fallacy? Could he? He was rather curious. The woman was religious, he knew that from their previous meal, but she was also extremely scientifically minded. Either way, he had been issued a challenge. Severus Snape did not back away from a challenge like that.
"We have creatures that, quite literally, devour souls. The punishment is reserved for only the most heinous of crimes."
Clara stared at him. She opened her mouth and then closed it, then stared at the bowl of chocolate before eating near the last bite. Snape smirked. Normally he would say he'd shocked someone into silence but he had a feeling she was trying to figure out what to ask first. She set down her spoon and looked at him, and smiled.
"I am sorry, you've given me a lot of questions but it hasn't really shattered my worldview. I've believed in souls for a long time, but I also believe in their transmutability. I don't think I'm going to remain me after I die, not forever. If these creatures speed it along, then that's what they do, if in a highly unpleasant way. With what you've told me so far of wizards I doubt any of you know what happens to a soul once it's been eaten?"
He shook his head, trying to come to terms that amongst the hundreds of people in the town he had found the insane woman to befriend again. How did this keep happening? Minerva was clearly a little unhinged if she willingly spent time with him, especially after everything that had happened. Lily had most definitely been, what with her insistence on jumping off swings at their zenith before she knew what magic was, and her tendency to try to make potions so they tasted bad, so no one would steal them. Not to mention how she had willingly spent time with James Potter. And now this woman, Clara, who was happily chatting about souls and atoms with a vampire after having confirmed magic existed less than three hours ago. Why did all the insane women want to hang out around him?
He looked at her, her relaxed form, and dove into her mind briefly. He was surprised when he encountered a barrier. No, not a shield or false mind, but close. A mantra holding back, not thoughts, but emotions. Of course, he couldn't hear what she was thinking, that's not how it worked. However, he dug past it and found a memory connected to the mantra, a scene of her bartending with a smile when someone had just thrown up on the bar after making a grab for her ass. She muttered under her breath as she walked away and the man was kicked out.
'This too shall pass. This too shall pass. Just put on your bartending face and this too shall pass. Be calm, assured, normal. This too shall pass.'
Well then. That's how she wasn't completely melting down, a lifetime in customer service and turning off emotions so you didn't kill anyone. He'd only worked at a potions shop one summer for his mastery and had had quite enough for a lifetime. Her heart rate was normal so her mantra must be having some effect. He removed himself from her head quickly. Well, at least she wasn't boring.
"We do not know what happens to a soul after it has been eaten." He confirmed with a shake of the head.
"Well, if you don't know that, I have very little to say on the subject. There are too many unknowns."
"We have ghosts."
"So? We do too."
Snape shook his head. "The fact that you are calm either signifies great intelligence or-"
"How about you stop while you're ahead and not finish that sentence, hmm?" Said Clara with a wink as she finished the custard. Snape was fairly sure his brain short circuited, was the woman … flirting with him? As in implied interest? Or was it just banter? Or was it something she was doing to put herself at ease? He… He'd wait and see, he supposed, before he mentally spiraled into further confusion. Of course this meant she'd have to keep her memory… Well he had been planning on testing his commanding ability anyway, he may as well do so. As long as she followed the commands she wouldn't find out he had given them.
"Very well. In an attempt to add to your self worth I shall stop."
"How kind of you. Now, you said you're a teacher, potions? Do you enjoy it?"
"Sometimes, although I'd prefer if you tell people I am a friend who teaches maths at a private school, with theater as an extracurricular." He said, winding the command into the sentence subtly.
"Maths?" She asked in a confused voice.
"Yes?"
"Not science?"
"I am self aware enough that I can admit if someone were to ask me about Muggle chemistry I might out myself as a false teacher. I am learning though." He grumbled, annoyed to have to admit that.
"Ah… But…Not theater?" She asked curiously. Snape relaxed a bit at the genuine emotion, she was not looking to hurt him but was just fascinated by his world. By his having to hide it.
He sighed. "Theater is an excuse wizards use for their odd dress. If you see someone dressed oddly who says they do theater there is an infinitesimal chance they are a wizard. Tell no one that. Anyway, adding maths will make it less suspicious if you run into another wizard."
"Do you trust me so little?"
"No. I trust others to be nosey, and you to be kind and not tell them to mind their own." He countered, still a bit testy.
"You haven't seen me at a bar near closing." She returned, poking her spoon at him with far more enthusiasm than the comment deserved.
"I just want to keep you safe." Said Snape.
"Why?"
"What do you mean 'why'?" He said annoyedly, the answer should be rather obvious.
"Why do you want to keep me safe?" She grinned and needled, now wagging her spoon at him.
"A multitude of reasons, but I thought the main one was obvious. I don't hate your company as much as I do 90% of the planet's."
Clara smiled. "That seems like high praise from you."
"It is. Your spawn is even… tolerable. Do you think he would like this dessert?"
"It has chocolate, so yes."
"Well, I hope you leave enough for him to have some."
"I will. What did you say was in it?"
"How about I trade you the recipe?" Said Snape, not wanting to bring up blood again at the moment.
"That would be lovely. I can give you the book from tonight in trade after I copy the macaroni one down. I've copied the rest with my variations to them already. I got tired of reading pages that had notations in different colors, crossed out, and notated on themselves."
"I would love your final notations in the book, if that's not too much to ask."
"I'm honored."
"You should be. Now, I'd obviously prefer if you didn't tell anyone about magic or the fact that I'm undead either, not in any way related to reality. In all seriousness I should have removed the memories from you the moment I found out."
"Why didn't you?"
"Mind magic is tricky, dangerous. Without knowing what memories I'm removing or altering, I could damage your mind. Usually it's left to professionals, creatures, or potions. I don't have the creature's necessary, nor the ingredients, and I really don't fancy making a call to the authorities right now. I'm on a vacation of sorts and don't want to spend the rest of it being locked away and asked questions. Also, I wouldn't have been able to have this lovely discussion with you if I had done any of that."
"Lovely discussion? Really? Are you that starved for intelligent conversation?" She said as she put the empty bowl down. The woman liked to be praised, but she seemed to like pulling that praise nearly unknowingly out of people. She was amusing.
"Considering I spend most of my day around students, yes. My colleagues, are often distant due to my… Condition."
"Are they afraid?"
"Of course, you should be as well. The fact that you're not only speaks to your… Intelligence." He said silkily with a smirk. Clara just rolled her eyes.
Conversation continued in such a manner until they were interrupted by the oven. The dish came out perfectly, at least according to Clara. Golden on the top with tendrils of cheese that snapped just like before. He accepted a small portion on a plate. He had a bite but as usual could barely taste it. The cheese was there as before, the paprika. It was pretty much as he remembered, sans bell peppers.
The pain however was new, and quite acute.
Clara was in a panic as he retched and ran to the bathroom. He quickly spit out the offending food burning his tongue into a lilac trash can. He exhaled and frowned in the mirror, then stuck out his tongue and looked at it. Thank god muggles stopped using silver to back mirrors ages ago, because he could actually see his tongue, a place he obviously didn't put the reflection lotion on. Another reason he rarely smiled. Of course, there was little for him to smile about so that didn't matter.
He inspected his tongue. It was certainly burned, the roof of his mouth was as well in fact, but it looked chemical as opposed to heat based. It was healing slowly, which meant it was an injury caused by something anathema to his kind.
Like garlic.
"Stefan? Stefan, are you ok? Can I come in?"
Snape took a breath, calming himself, and opened the door. Clara was immediately on the other side with ice and a cup of water. He was ready to berate her but the rather obvious look of concern on her face helped temper his anger. Not completely, but enough to remind him that he did indeed wish to ingratiate himself to the woman. It would not help if he were to berate her like he did his students.
She looked back and forth at the items and then at him. "Will these even help?"
He shook his head and quashed a sneer as it grew on his face. "No. Did you put garlic in the dish?"
Clara gasped. "Oh shit. My garlic salt. I ran out of regular salt two days ago and have been using that without thinking. There isn't a lot in it, it's probably why you didn't smell it either, it's in powder form and rather old. I'm so sorry!"
Snape waved her off. "I'll heal. I do however think I should head out for the evening." The fact that he had been distracted by… her and hadn't smelled the garlic also irked him. He didn't allow himself to become distracted like that, but the prospect of a woman showing even a hint of being genuinely interested in him was apparently novel enough to do so. His rather cyclical thinking this evening was enough of a sign of his weakness, this only cemented the fact. It more than irked him, it discomfited him. He wanted to be alone.
"Oh please don't go because I made a stupid mistake. I wouldn't want to ruin our friendship over this."
Thoughts rushed through his head at the word, at the speed at which things were progressing for her. Friendship? Really? He considered her an acquaintance at best. He'd examine that later. "I'm not leaving because of that, I'm leaving because I was injured, and being injured puts me on edge. I can heal the wound quickly enough with a spell or a meal but the fact that I'm on edge will not go away with anything but time and meditation." In truth, he was done with the evening. Or at least done interacting. However to make the point he picked up his wand and cast an episky on himself. It closed halfway, the wound reluctant to heal because of the garlic.
She backed away a bit, remembering what he was. "Oh. Oh, I understand. Again I'm so sorry."
"You should be, it was your fault. However, considering the fact that I did not inform you I would react as such there was no reason for you to consider it and ask first."
"Yes but everyone knows garlic is harmful to vampires!" She said, berating herself, perhaps in an attempt to appease him.
Snape raised a brow at this. "Really? And you base this on what? Your numerous works of fiction that say so? Yes, an entirely reliable source."
Clara smiled and shook her head. "Well at least let me apologize by offering to cook you something you can eat next time."
"There are very few things that you could cook that I would enjoy and I doubt you would enjoy making them."
The grin that crossed her face was rather… it was not pretty but predatory. Wholly Slytherin and dear merlin did it send heat to an entirely inappropriate place.
"Oh, I accept that challenge! I'll see you in a few nights then."
"Do I get a say in this?" He asked with only half false annoyance in an attempt to get that look off her face.
"Do you want food or not?" She countered amusedly with hands on her hips and an obviously false anger in the wrinkles of her face that was wholly undone by the upward twitch of her lips. She stepped aside to let him pass.
"Not particularly…" he said as he walked by.
"Ah, so you're going to pass up a chance to say 'I told you so?'"
He paused with his hand on the doorknob. "Now that, I will gladly return for." He said with a smirk. She had guessed that about him after spending one evening with him. It was interesting spending time with her.
He turned and faced her once outside and bowed slightly.
"How gentlemanly. I can only hope you will be as gracious when you are proven wrong."
"You mean when I am proven right? And I promise nothing. I shall see you Thursday perhaps?"
"No. Sorry, Thursday I want to spend with Connor, mainly because he leaves Wednesday morning for an overnight field trip with the class and it may go well, in which case he'll want to talk, and it may go poorly, in which case he'll need comfort. That means Wednesday evening I'm open however."
"Is that not a work night for you?"
"I don't have to be in there every night all night. They'll call me if it's an emergency." She said, waving off his concerns. "Anyway it was lovely spending time with you Stefan. If that even is your real name. It sounds far too normal for someone as fascinating as yourself."
"Perhaps you'll manage to get the truth of the matter out of me next time." He said smugly.
"That's my plan. My mother always said the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, and while I will probably end up having to take a different route this time, I do always try to listen to my mom so I'm gonna give it a go. Goodnight Stefan."
"Goodnight Clara." He nodded and turned as she closed the door and was halfway down the block before he realized she had mentioned trying to get to his heart. Had… she really been flirting with him? Was she actually interested? That was not the type of comment one made so quickly, so… uninhibitedly. So… easily when she was obviously barely holding off a mental break of some sort surely. It had to have strings attached. And, as always, it wasn't like he deserved something so… simple… So pure. But… was it wrong to want it anyway? Snape sighed. Well, he could find out, he didn't have to go home after all.
He turned the corner and with a thought apparated to the roof of the house across the street. He watched her through the window as she cleaned up from dinner and then quickly grabbed a bottle of wine and a glass from a cupboard. She looked at the glass for a second and then put it back before opening the bottle. She wrote something down on a memo pad near the phone and then picked the device up as she took a swig of the wine from the bottle. And then a long chug. Yes, he supposed that was appropriate considering what she'd gone through.
Snape couldn't hear her clearly, not through the glass and across the street. He apparated to her roof and waited. It wasn't long before she began to talk.
"Hey Dan. Yeah, yeah well fuck you too." She said. Well, that was certainly a way to start a conversation.
"But seriously. How is Sara? Good, good. Me? Oh… I think I'm gonna go back to therapy… yeah yeah I know it's been years but the weird dreams are back and it just helps to talk about them. Oh shut up about grandfather. Oh stop being an obtuse moose, you know I'm not talking about grandpop, may his dust rest with the stars. Great Grandfather, I know you think his stories are the reason I have those weird dreams but even if they are I wouldn't trade them for the world."
Ah, so anything in the magical world was just treated as a dream. So she did go to therapy and had told her therapist, just not the whole truth. He would most likely be the newest 'dream' she discussed. He had forbade her from talking about it in regards to reality, not dreams after all. How sneaky. Or perhaps she would consider it 'practical.'
"What? …. What do you mean trigger? Why does something have to be a trigger for the dreams to start? What? …. Well fuck you too brother mine, I'm doing great! As a matter of fact I just had a rather nice evening with a gentleman and we talked about astro physics and he made me chocolate. From scratch… … What? I swear to god Dan if you scare him away I will hit you with a cricket bat. Although I'm not sure you could scare him away. … … Yes. Actually, yes…. Fine! Yes, come on over, I'd love to see you try to scare Stefan away. I have no idea- I'm talking, I am talking! I have no idea why you get such perverse pleasure out of terrifying any male I try to make nice with. So yeah, please, have a 'surprise visit' next Wednesday, it will be amusing. …"
Well, it seemed he was going to get introduced to family, and an overprotective brother at that. He grimaced. How wonderful. Still, as her brother agreed to come up her heartbeat slowed a bit and her breathing calmed. He had a feeling she would have asked him if he hadn't volunteered. This was a safety net for her, backup in case she needed it and his intentions weren't as pure as tonight suggested. He wondered briefly if she realized she was basically damning her brother too. Neither would survive if he did have nefarious intentions after all.
"I swear to god if you bring your fucking itchy water balloons I will literally shove them up your ass and then kick you until they pop! … What…. Of course you can stay for dinner with us, you're not gonna drive an hour and not get fed. … No, no pasta. You cannot make a good pasta sauce without garlic and he is allergic to garlic... Don't you dare! ….I hear that tone of voice! Dan! I swear to god if you make garlic water balloons I will shove them up your ass and- … … Yes! I am quite aware that's the same threat as last time! It's a damn good threat! What…. Of course Connor isn't here, I'd never let him hear me talking like that… Not until he's at least fifteen."
Snape groaned. Why did he have a feeling he might be having dinner with muggle versions of one of the Weasley twins?
"… The restarting is…. Going well. We are finally making some money instead of breaking even. … Yeah yeah and all it took was ten years, the previous owner dying and leaving it to dad because…. Of course…. Oh you can bugger right off with that! I haven't even finished a glass yet! … No, I don't actually have a glass! …I can tell by how much is left in the bottle and… Shut up, no that does not make me a wino!"
Snape snorted. Ah siblings. At least she wasn't having an existential crisis and had someone to talk to. He wouldn't have to go back and obliviate her when she ran out at three in the morning tearing her hair out. Lovely.
He dusted himself off and with a step and turn he headed back to Spinner's end, ready to spend the next two days reading and trying to detox.