"This is so awkward," Theda thought. "He really does not like me."
Theda had gone to breakfast that morning fully intending to finally speak to Severus until she saw the way he had turned his back toward her seat. The unresolved tension was eating her alive. And then, she had come to his defense, hoping that would have made up at least somewhat for the storeroom misunderstanding, but he seemed completely unmoved.
After that, they went straight to dinner where he was sitting right next to her, still saying nothing, still avoiding eye contact. It was becoming more and more clear to Theda that she was probably not going to be able to win him over.
She hardly ate any of her dinner, not having much of an appetite. The violently intense energy radiating from Severus was enough to make her nauseous, so she decided to turn in early.
When she got to her chambers she changed into her silk pajamas and decided to make herself a nice hot cup of tea. While she waited for the kettle to boil, she sat down on her couch with a book she had just rented from the school library - Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes.
Just then she was startled by a knock on her door. Who would be visiting her at this time of night?
"Ah, shit," She thought. "Gilderoy."
"Go away!" She shouted at the door. "I don't want to talk to you!"
There was a long pause.
"My apologies."
She knew immediately that this was not Gilderoy's voice. She jumped off the couch and ran to the door, opening it as quickly as she could. Although she had recognized his voice, she was still somehow very surprised to see Severus standing there in her doorway.
"Severus!" She gasped. "I'm so sorry, I thought you were someone else!"
"...Is this a bad time?" He asked, looking her up and down, his gaze seeming to linger ever so slightly on her silk pajamas.
"No, not at all! Please, come in!"
He hesitated and for a moment Theda expected him to decline, but to her surprise, he came in.
"Please, make yourself at home." She said, gesturing to the couch. "I've just put the kettle on, would you like a cup of tea?"
"Umm, yes, actually. That would be nice." He replied.
"I have earl grey, jasmine, lavender, chamomile, blackcurrant, licorice... I'm not even sure why I have licorice, no one likes that one, not even-"
"I'll just have whatever you're having."
"Chamomile it is." She smiled nervously as she poured the water. "So, what brings you to my humble abode?" She asked, trying to lighten the mood as she handed him his cup of tea.
"I... Well..." He muttered, looking like he was physically in pain as he tried to summon the words. "I wanted to thank you for earlier."
"Oh," She said in a surprised tone. "Don't worry about it."
"Why... did you do that?" He asked.
"I was waiting for you to speak up, but you never did."
"I had no intention of speaking up."
"Why?" She asked, sounding puzzled.
"It wasn't a big deal." He said. "The students were safe, that's all that mattered. I didn't need recognition for doing what any of us would have done. Plus, Gilderoy seemed to be much more in need of the validation."
Theda let out a small laugh.
"Yeah, the man's a real piece of work."
There was an awkward silence.
"Look-"
"I-"
They spoke over each other. Theda let out an uncomfortable laugh and tried again.
"I wanted to apologize for the incident in the storeroom. I want you to know that I didn't invite Gilderoy down there. He followed me and had me cornered. I didn't mean to disrespect you or your room and I'm sorry I let that happen." She got up and grabbed her silk bag, bringing it to the couch where they were sitting. "Here's the felix felicis Gilderoy stole."
"Oh... Thank you." He said, pocketing the small vial. Theda noticed that his energy had completely changed. She suddenly felt at ease in his presence.
"I'm really sorry again. I swear it wasn't my intention to use your storeroom for anything other than borrowing potion supplies."
"I believe you." He said.
"You do?"
"I wouldn't have before what transpired this evening. It really did seem to me that I had walked in on an intimate moment between you two, but I see now that that was not the case. I'm sorry I didn't give you the chance to explain before."
"I assure you, I find the man as excruciatingly imbecilic as you do." She laughed. "You wanna know how I got rid of him?"
"How?"
"Herbaria. Shoved it right into his mouth when he was leaning in for a kiss."
"My my," He said, almost smiling, "You seem to know your stuff. Even advanced potion makers typically aren't familiar with the wide range of uses herbaria has to offer. They certainly don't teach you in school that it can be used as a sleeping agent."
"Well, it's not a very commonly used herb in general, is it?" She smiled. "I was surprised you even had it in your storeroom."
"Dumbledore occasionally asks me for potions that are quite complex so I try to keep my room well-stocked. But I must admit, I hardly ever have any use for herbaria. May I ask what potion you were planning to use it for? Or did you only take it for the express purpose of drugging our colleagues?"
"Actually, I already brewed it. Would you like to see?" She asked.
"Certainly." He said, rising to follow her into her spare room. She opened the door, revealing a small maze, which they zigzagged through until the inner room was revealed. It was very dark, even more dimly lit than he liked to keep his own chambers. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the muted glow of a small red light hanging from the ceiling, but when they did, he could see that one of the walls was lined with moving photographs hanging from clothespins on a wire.
"You're a photographer?"
"Yes, I am." She said, smiling. "An author, too. I've traveled all over the world transcribing oral histories from witches and wizards in rural communities. I take all the photos for the books as well, mostly of artifacts and ancient buildings, and things of that nature."
"I see, so the ingredients you took were for brewing the developing potions for the photos."
She nodded.
"These are particularly interesting." He said, leaning in for a closer look at a series of photos depicting aged headstones of many shapes and sizes. "Are they for one of your books?"
"Oh, no. Those are from a series I've been working on for years, just for my own satisfaction. It's the epitaphs I'm interested in. You see?" She said, gesturing to one of the photos.
"'Here Lies The Worst Of Kings, And The Most Miserable Of Men,'" Severus read aloud.
Theda nodded.
"That's the epitaph Robert III of Scotland requested for himself. Isn't that chilling? And this one- 'Mary Smythe. Witch. Drowned.' It tells an incredibly tragic tale in just a few simple words."
He said nothing but listened intently as she continued.
"When we die, we live on through the people we leave behind, but what about when they're gone as well? All we loved, all we lived is reduced to a few simple words written on a piece of stone. Everything else is lost to time. I like to imagine who these people were. What their lives were like."
Severus surveyed the photos, reading each of the epitaphs engraved into the crumbling headstones.
"'Weep Not, Dear Sylvia, For Your Love Waits For You In The Ever After.'" He read aloud.
"That's one of my favorites. It's beautiful to think that our lost loves are waiting for us, somewhere just out of reach."
Severus said nothing, and Theda could tell he was deep in thought.
"Fascinating choice of subject matter." He said after several minutes of silence.
"You think so? I don't usually show people anything from this series." She replied. "People find them... well, a little morbid, I guess."
"And you don't?" Severus asked.
"Not at all. I think they're beautiful."
He paused for a moment and then replied, "I do as well."
"We should probably get back to our tea before it gets cold." Theda opened the door and they made their way back to the living area.
"Did you take all of these?" He asked, now surveying the photos on the living room walls.
"Actually, none of these are mine. Most of them were taken long before I was even born."
"Ahh, yes, I see that now," Severus said, noticing the rips, stains, and outdated fashions. "Are they your family?"
"No, these are all photographs that I've found. Photos people threw away. I found a lot of them in antique stores, some at estate sales, others in trash bins."
"Why decorate your home with photos you found in the trash of people you don't know?"
"Well... I guess it's because they've become my adopted family, in a way." She said with a half smile. "They were thrown away by their own families. I know what that's like. I wanted to give them a new home."
He looked at her with a twinge of surprise on his face, his mouth slightly open as if he wanted to speak but couldn't find the words.
"I know it probably sounds silly..."
"No, I don't think so." He said. "I think it's a beautiful gesture. Few people would have taken the time to fish someone else's memories out of the garbage, let alone display them in their homes. You were very kind to do so. "
"Thank you for saying that, Severus. Did you see these two color photos on the mantle?"
"No, I didn't." He said, getting a closer look.
"These are the only personal photos I have on display." She picked up the frame on the left, showing him. "This is my grandmother, Sylvia."
"This wouldn't be the same Sylvia who was mentioned on that headstone in the photograph, would it?"
"Yes, that was my grandfather Robert's headstone."
"No relation to Robert III of Scotland, I take it?" He teased before realizing that was probably the wrong thing to say. To his relief, Theda just softly laughed.
"No, just plain Robert. He died before I was born. My grandmother raised me all by herself."
Severus was silent for a moment, unsure what to say.
"You're from America originally, is that right?"
"Yes, I grew up in Salem, Massachusetts. When my grandmother died I was only 16, so I came here to stay with my only living relative. Well, at least the only one I'm aware of. A cousin, in Haworth. That's when I attended Hogwarts."
"I see. And who's the man in the other photo?"
"Oh, that's Douglas. He was... well... we were engaged. He's dead too."
Severus turned his head towards her, once again looking as if he wished to say something but didn't know how to begin.
"I'm sorry," Theda laughed, "I know that was kind of heavy. I didn't mean to drop a huge bomb like that. It's still kind of hard to talk about, but I feel like it's best to just say it as plainly as possible. No point sugarcoating it."
"I'm sorry." He said.
"It's alright. It's been three years, so... I've had some time to come to terms with it. Not that I'm over it, by any means. But I'm not in denial the way I was before. It actually feels good to talk about him now, in a way. I feel like it keeps his memory alive."
"...May I ask you something?"
"Sure." Said Theda.
"Since you arrived, have the other staff told you anything about me?"
"No, actually. No one has really spoken of you at all."
"Good." He said. "I thought, perhaps, you had heard some things that might portray me in an... unflattering light."
"Like what?" She looked at him, slightly confused.
"...There was a woman I loved, once. She died as well."
"Oh, Severus, I'm so sorry." She said. "I wouldn't wish that on anyone, truly. Do you want to talk about it?"
"Not tonight. It's getting late. I should be going."
"Oh, of course." Said Theda, walking him to the door. "If you ever do want to talk, I'll be here with a cup of tea ready for you." She smiled, offering him her hand. "Friends?"
Severus softly took her hand in his before giving a reluctant smile.
"Friends."