Evelyn exhaled in relief, letting her head drop against the wall. Snape was pouring himself a drink. "I wouldn't trust that," Evelyn warned.
Snape held the glass up to the light and then up to his nose. He took off a ring, dipped it in, and examined it. "In my opinion, as Potions Master, I do believe that it is simply good wine." He took a sip assuringly.
"I guess there's no need to waste it then." Evelyn poured herself a glass and sat down.
Snape took a sip and asked, "What did you need with the burdock root?"
"This castle has been so cold that I can barely think. I was going to brew a warming tea to help."
"Do you mind if I look over the instructions?" Snape offered. She noticed a kindness in his eyes that she hadn't seen before.
"It's an old family recipe, but I guess I could let you have a peek." She crossed the room and handed him a tattered piece of parchment.
He was absorbed in his craft, reading every detail of the recipe. "You could reduce the simmer to 5 minutes. It should be just as effective and keep some of the bitterness out."
"Oh, I don't mind a little bitterness," she smiled, "It's the full flavor profile that makes the dish."
"Hm," he considered, "Not everyone appreciates a hint of the unsavory." After a moment he asked, "You wouldn't be related to the Professor Whisp who used to teach astronomy here by any chance?"
She rolled her eyes and sighed, "That would be my dad. My mum actually taught the subject at Cambridge," she paused thoughtfully, "Coming up in the wizarding world, Dad had always assumed that muggles were these helpless, primitive, creatures, only to be completely outdone in his favorite subject by a muggle. He's still convinced that she's an undetected witch. They chose for me to have a muggle education with private lessons in magic over the holidays. The wizarding world is just so small, and they wanted me to have options."
"I never knew he had a family," Snape marveled.
"In the years leading up to the war…" she cleared her throat, "It was just better that way."
They stared into the fire, neither wanting to revisit thoughts of that time or the fate that befell other blood traitors.
They were starting on a second glass, and Evelyn could sense the need for a change in topic, "So back at the door," she paused, cautiously. "Are you a legilimens?"
He was swirling his glass and drew in a breath, "I have some natural ability, but it's taken a great deal of time and practice to hone it into something functional."
"I'm a bit jealous," she said, "and a little embarrassed to admit that my abilities are more empathic."
"Why is that embarrassing? I've heard that empaths can master the ability to sway emotions in others." Snape was taught to value power in all its forms.
"Our feelings are tools that guide us, and I don't believe that I have the right to take that away. Legilimency is just more reputable. If you tell someone that you're an empath, they roll their eyes. Everyone has some level of empathy."
"Not everyone," Snape said darkly, visiting memories.
They spent the rest of the evening chatting about academics, students, and other faculty. It was clear that Snape cared deeply for his students.
"Before I forget," Snape added, "I have a referral for Pansy Parkinson for mediumship."
"Wonderful, how has she been doing? The onset can be hard."
"She says that she's having trouble sleeping, but overall, she's excited."
"That should be easy enough, I look forward to seeing her in class." Evelyn was surprised by the care the Snape showed for his student and the openness of this young student to seek his help. "You know, you have a reputation among your students. Outside of Slytherin, they think you hate them."
"I prefer it that way," Snape added. "Potions is a dangerous art. I need my students to conduct themselves with the seriousness it deserves." Snape took another sip. "There are also politics to consider. Certain wizarding families only respect a rather harsh mentality, and someone needs to play the part if we are to reach them."
It had gotten late, and the bottle was empty. Snape got to his feet, only a little off balance, and said a polite goodbye. He left the warmth of Professor Whisp's fire and descended toward the cold, dark dungeon of House Slytherin carrying a small smile on his face.