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14. Threads of Gratitude

Morning came quickly. Severus had barely slept. After retreating to his dormitory the night before, he avoided the common room altogether, finishing McGonagall's assignment with sharp, precise quill strokes. Now, in the faint green glow of the Slytherin dungeons, he tucked the completed parchment into his bag.

Straightening his robes, he allowed himself one steadying breath before stepping into the common room.

It didn't take long for the taunts to start.

The common room was already abuzz when Severus descended the stairs. Mulciber sat sprawled in the armchair nearest the fire, while Avery and Rosier leaned against the far wall, speaking in low tones. All three turned toward him as he entered, their expressions immediately sharpening into grins.

"Well, well, well," Mulciber began, his tone dripping with mockery. "If it isn't our local hero. Snape, you've been holding out on us. Who knew you had it in you?"

Rosier, seated cross-legged on the sofa, smirked. "The princess of Ravenclaw, no less. Quite the choice for a dramatic rescue."

Avery chuckled. "Didn't think she'd be the type to need saving. But I suppose when you spend all your time with Gryffindors and Mudbloods, your guard drops." He said his smirk widening.

Before Severus could retort, the sound of footsteps interrupted them. Regulus Black entered the room, his expression half-curious, half-incredulous.

"So, it's true?" he asked, his tone carefully neutral. "You saved Easgriff?"

"Oh, it is, Black," Mulciber said. "Your traitor brother couldn't stop talking about it at dinner. Had his own… interpretation of things, as usual."

Severus's lip curled in distaste. "Yes, because Black's recollection of events is always as flawless as his grades."

Mulciber laughed, sharp and mocking. "But, Snape,you rescuing Easgriff? How quaint. It was… fortunate you were there."

Severus's eyes narrowed, his voice cutting. "I did what was necessary to avoid further complications. Nothing more."

Mulciber laughed, sharp and mocking. "Still," he continued, tilting his head as though pondering, "lucky for her. Ice can be… tricky, especially when the weather decides to play into it."

Severus strode toward the exit, pausing only long enough to glance back at Mulciber. "Mulciber, what an insightful observation. I'll be sure to recommend you to the Magical Accidents department when they're next recruiting."

Severus made his way to the Great Hall, his mind preoccupied with Mulciber's comments. He hardly noticed when his usual path shifted slightly, guiding him past the hospital wing's open doors. The faint sound of Madam Pomfrey's voice reached his ears, sharp and stern.

The faint sound of Madam Pomfrey's voice reached his ears, sharp and stern.

"Now, no funny business. No practice for three days, no reckless endangerment, nothing that would result in me seeing you back here."

"We promise, Madam," Evangeline said.

Madam Pomfrey sighed, exasperation lacing her tone. "You're both fortunate you had such a determined rescue team."

"We know," Evangeline replied, her tone more serious now. "You mentioned it yesterday, Madam."

"And I will repeat it," Madam Pomfrey said firmly. "Professor McGonagall gave me the full report last night. You are fortunate, Miss Easgriff, that Misters Snape and Black were so determined." She turned her sharp gaze on David. "And you, Mr. Frezidoft, the same applies to you. Mr. Potter and Miss Sanderson could very well have fallen in after you."

A brief pause followed, broken only by the faint shuffle of movement inside the hospital wing. Severus remained still, pressed against the cool stone wall just out of sight, his curiosity overriding his usual aversion to lingering.

"We plan on thanking them properly, Madam," Evangeline replied, her tone quieter now.

"See that you do," Pomfrey replied curtly.

Severus heard shuffling near the door and quickly stepped back, retreating into the shadows of the corridor. From his vantage point, he watched as Evangeline and David emerged from the hospital wing, both sighing as they stretched their arms. They turned to leave, but Evangeline froze mid-step, her sharp gaze landing squarely on him.

"Sev–"

"Miss Easgriff!"

Madam Pomfrey's voice cut through the air like a whip, interrupting her. She bustled out of the hospital wing, holding a small bouquet of wildflowers.

"These arrived for you this morning. They had to be set aside while I attended to other matters." She handed the flowers to Evangeline with a faint huff. "Courtesy of Mister Black."

Evangeline raised a brow, her expression a mixture of bemusement and something unreadable. Beside her, David snorted and nudged her elbow, grinning.

"Don't look so thrilled," he teased. "Just take them, before they start singing or whatever."

Reluctantly, Evangeline accepted the flowers, holding them as though they might sprout thorns at any moment.

"Think they may recite sonnets?" chuckled David. "That's Sirius Black's style."

Evangeline snorted whilst Severus rolled his eyes and approached, his gaze flicking briefly to the bouquet in her hands. "Wildflowers," he drawled, his tone dripping with disdain. "How… rustic. Although Black is not one with an eye for detail. Roses would have been a better fit. At least that would suit your melodramatic name."

David snorted, clearly enjoying himself. Severus's gaze lingered on the bouquet for a fraction longer before flicking back to Evangeline. "Though, judging by Black's flair for dramatics, I'm surprised the flowers didn't come with a handwritten ode."

David laughed outright, clutching his sides. "An ode! Can you imagine? 'To the fairest in the land.'!"

"By Merlin, David, please don't!" Evangeline groaned though the corner of her mouth twitched with a reluctant smile. She shifted the bouquet awkwardly in her hands.

"What?" David grinned unfazed by the situation. "It's classic Sirius Black!"

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, his patience wearing thin. "Spare us the Gryffindor playbook, Frezidoft." he said sharply. "I can feel my intelligence waning just hearing it."

David chuckled, undeterred. "You know, Snape, for someone who claims to hate theatrics, you've got a flair for the dramatic yourself."

Severus's eyes narrowed. "Keep talking, Frezidoft, and I'll demonstrate theatrics that will have you begging for another stay in the hospital wing."

Evangeline snorted, cutting in before David could retort. "Alright, Sev, point made." She looked at David. "Let's get to breakfast David, I could use a good meal."

Severus gave her a withering look but turned sharply, leading the way toward the Great Hall. David fell into step beside Evangeline, whispering, "Does he always threaten people with hexes before breakfast? Or is that just for me?"

Meanwhile, Severus paused behind them for a brief moment, exhaling sharply. "Unbelievable." He pulled up his bag and followed them to breakfast.

Breakfast was a formidable affair. The comments from the Slytherin table were relentless.

"So, Snape what's it like to be a Gryffindor?"

"Did those Ravenclaws beg for help?"

Severus ignored them, his face impassive as he reached for his tea. The quiet fury in his dark eyes was the only indication that he heard them at all. But when Mulciber and his group arrived, the atmosphere shifted further.

"Snape," Mulciber began, his voice low and mocking as he leaned against the table. "We never finished our discussion from earlier. I heard you used such a simple charm. I thought you preferred complexity."

Severus paused mid-sip, his hand tightening around the teacup as he sat it down. His dark eyes fixed Mulciber with a piercing stare.

"Precision," Severus said coldly. "That's what separates mastery from mediocrity. Something you've yet to grasp."

Mulciber's grin faltered, but he recovered quickly, sneering. "Mediocrity? Is that how you describe my spells?"

"Yes," Severus replied smoothly, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. "Because we both know your attempts would fall apart without my corrections. You've always been… reliant."

Mulciber's expression darkened, but before he could retort, Avery cut in with a smirk. "Careful, Snape. We wouldn't want another one of your… demonstrations. The last one cleared half the classroom."

Severus's gaze flicked to Avery, his tone dripping with disdain. "No need for a demonstration, Avery. You all know whose expertise you've been borrowing since third year."

Satisfied with their silence, Severus rose from his seat, his robes sweeping behind him. A so-called 'wand competition' was beneath him. He strode toward the main staircase, his focus already shifting from the petty remarks of his housemates to the tasks awaiting him. The faint sound of footsteps quickened behind him, followed by a familiar voice.

"Severus!"

He turned sharply, spotting Evangeline approaching with a small piece of parchment in her hand. He raised an eyebrow. "What is it, Easgriff?"

Evangeline raised an eyebrow. "Easgriff? Didn't realize we were back to last names, Severus."

Severus crossed his arms, his expression unmoving. "What do you want?"

She extended the parchment toward him. "Here."

Severus eyed her hand suspiciously. "What's this? Black's belated ode? Another bouquet order?"

"It's a thank you note, Severus," she replied, exasperated, her hand still extended. "What bit you this morning?"

He sighed heavily and took the note. "Commentary."

"You can drop the attitude, you know. There's no need to act so… detached." She fixed him with a knowing look. "You were pleasant last night."

"Last night…" he muttered, though he lacked conviction. "Last night was different." His gaze flicked to the note in his hand. "This—" he gestured lightly with the parchment "—is unnecessary."

"It's thanks, Severus. And thanking someone who saved my life is always necessary." She gave him a pointed look before turning on her heel and heading back into the Great Hall.

Severus stood in the quiet corridor, the note in his hand. After a few moments, he resumed walking. Eventually, curiosity got the better of him, and he unfolded the parchment.

Severus,

Thank you for the tonic, it gave David and me the boost we needed for Madam Pomfrey to release us this morning. But more than that, thank you for what you did at the lake. It meant a great deal to us (though David will deny it, of course) that you worked with the Gryffindor squad to get us out of the water.

I won't forget it.

-Eva

He stared at the parchment for a moment before folding and sliding it into his pocket. The library, he decided, would be the perfect place to focus and clear his mind.

Between studying his Transfiguration essay and refining his potions notes, Severus kept himself occupied. In class later, he turned in his essay, and the extra assignment to McGonagall with his usual curt nod in response to her praise. His Arithmancy course demanded his full attention, and by the afternoon, he was back in the library, meticulously refining a formula that had been simmering in his mind for weeks. But despite his efforts, his thoughts continually circled back to the note Evangeline had given him. Her words lingered, unbidden, as though etched into his mind.

Avoidance seemed like the best solution. Severus made a deliberate effort to slip out of classrooms quickly, ensuring he was gone before Evangeline had a chance to approach him. He convinced himself it was the logical course of action: fewer opportunities for pointed remarks from passersby about his actions at the lake.

By the end of the day, however, Severus's composure had been tested thoroughly. Rosier's incessant teasing about "heroic Gryffindor tendencies," Mulciber's attempts to provoke yet another dark arts debate, and the relentless bickering from Avery had worn on his nerves. Even Regulus Black had chimed in with his usual snide remarks, his sharp tongue always skirting dangerously close to topics Severus preferred to avoid.

When he finally reached the Slytherin dormitory, the thought of sitting on his bed, curtains drawn, and reveling in solitude was all he could think about.

"Some respite at last," he muttered under his breath, tugging his tie loose as he sank onto his bed. With a flick of his wand, the curtains around his four-poster snapped shut, allowing him to peacefully change into nightwear. He reached for History of Medieval Dark Magic on his bedside table, letting the worn pages fall open to a familiar section. The precise descriptions of ancient spells and their meticulous applications steadied him in a way little else could.

As he flipped through the pages, his eyes caught a chapter heading he had skimmed before but rarely lingered on: Dark Magic Creations of the Middle Ages. The chapter promised accounts of various dark wizards, infamous spells, and a few families whose reputations had been permanently tied to the Dark Arts. Severus's gaze moved over the names, many of which were familiar. Some, like the House of Gaunt, stood out for their infamous legacy of Parseltongue and obsession with blood purity. Others, like the House of Beaufort, were whispered about in relation to cursed artifacts that had allegedly ruined lives. And then there was the House of Umbrawood, a family whose rumored mastery of shadow magic had disappeared with their extinction centuries ago.

Further down the list were families still present, though their reputations varied in wizarding circles. Severus's lip curled at the mention of the House of Black—of course they would be included.

He continued skimming until a new name caught his attention: Menoetius Wickford. Severus's frown deepened as he read on, the description compelling enough to draw his focus.

Wickford was a formidable duellist in his time, respected, but feared. Though specific details of his work were frustratingly vague, there were hints of his contributions to the creation of curses and dark charms, some of which were still rumored to exist in the present day. Words like "projects" and "experimentation" dotted the text, their ambiguity sparking Severus's curiosity. Whatever these "projects" entailed, they had left Menoetius a permanent mark in the annals of magical history. Here was a wizard who had power, status, and influence. All things Severus himself had yet to achieve.

His gaze shifted further down the page, where another Wickford was mentioned: Themis Wickford. Severus's eyes narrowed as he read. Themis, it seemed, had taken her family's legacy even further, her name tied to rumors of dark potions and curses. She had allegedly claimed descent from Morgana Le Fay herself, a claim she used to justify her "experiments" on Muggles. Here again, the wording only brushed the surface.

Severus closed the book with a quiet thud, its weight resting heavily on his lap. He sat still for a moment, before leaning over to retrieve the small piece of parchment from the chair beside his bed.

Despite himself, he found his thoughts circling back to the note throughout the day. His eyes scanning the words, the final line remained etched in his mind:

I won't forget it.

He unfolded the parchment, smoothing it out against his palm. The words hadn't changed, of course, but they lingered in his mind as if he were reading them for the first time.

After a few minutes he refolded the note, and slipped it back into the pocket of his robes. For reasons he couldn't quite articulate, he wanted it close. Not to be seen, not to be discussed. Just there.

Sliding out from beneath the covers, Severus crossed to the small chair by his bed where his school robes hung. He retrieved the note, handling it with care, before returning to the privacy of his curtains.

It was the following afternoon when Severus spotted her in the library. She and her little Ravenclaw group were bantering about Quidditch tactics and Professor Olympus, placing bets on how long the current Defense Against the Dark Arts professor would last, given the pattern of professors rarely enduring beyond a year.

"I think he will… get chased by a banshee from the forest," Mariana said with mock seriousness. "Seems fitting."

"A banshee?" David replied, feigning shock. "My Galleons are on explosive potions, triggered by yours truly." He jabbed a finger toward Evangeline.

"Me? I'm not looking to attract that sort of attention," she shot back, folding her arms.

"Please, Eva. You live for that sort of attention."

Evangeline rolled her eyes, a faint smirk betraying her amusement. "Fine. I say Olympus will… be attacked by the giant squid."

"Maybe marry the squid," Grace muttered dryly, sending the group into fits of laughter.

Severus approached quietly, his expression unreadable as their ridiculous betting pool unfolded.

"Or, now listen here," Evangeline said, her grin widening as she began to weave a tale. "He gets chased out of the forest—" she pointed to Mariana "—chased by a banshee, then stumbles into the potions lab, where an 'accident' happens." She shot a meaningful look at David, eliciting a fresh round of snickers.

"And then," she continued, barely containing her laughter, "he runs to the lake, thinking it's safe. But the squid—"

"—the squid looks into his eyes, falls in love, and Olympus transforms into a wizard-squid hybrid!" David finished, spreading his arms wide.

"Merlin's beard, Frezidoft," Severus drawled, stepping forward at last. Their heads whipped around, their grins faltering slightly. "I see the lake's water has done more damage than I initially suspected. Common sense appears to have frozen entirely."

David, unfazed, grinned and leaned back in his chair. "Ah, Snape. What a pleasure. Here to threaten me with another trip to Pomfrey? Or was that just your pre-breakfast entertainment yesterday?"

Severus's lip started to twitch "Consider it an illustration of restraint, Frezidoft."

Mariana smirked behind her hand, and Grace outright chuckled, exchanging a knowing glance. Evangeline raised a hand as though to intervene, her tone light. "Alright, Severus, please direct your temper elsewhere. Unless you'd care to place your own bet on Olympus."

"I will not participate in such frivolities," Severus said coldly, his arms crossed.

"You should consider it," Evangeline teased, mimicking his stern tone. "Might do wonders for that legendary mood of yours."

"Being childish now, Easgriff?" he shot back, though there was a faint edge of amusement in his voice.

"Still being a ray of sunshine, Snape?" she countered, grinning.

For a moment, Severus said nothing, his dark eyes flicking between their faces. Their laughter, though irritating, wasn't laced with malice or derision. It was far removed from the mockery he had endured in the past. No, this was something else—something unfamiliar. It was camaraderie, the kind shared among friends. An alien concept to him.

"A word," he said, his voice softer.

Evangeline raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her chair. "A word?" she repeated, crossing her arms. "Just a word? No threats, hexes, or experimental brews involved?"

Grace stifled a snort, and Mariana watched the exchange with open curiosity. Severus, undeterred, merely arched a brow in silent insistence.

"Yes, a word," he repeated. "Now."

Evangeline rolled her eyes but rose from her seat. "Fine. Lead the way, O master of cryptic summons."

He led her a short distance away, far enough that the others couldn't overhear. When they reached a quieter corner of the library, he stopped and turned to face her, his expression unreadable.

"So," Evangeline began, tilting her head. "What's this about? You've been avoiding me like I've got Dragon Pox."

"That's… not accurate," Severus replied stiffly his gaze momentarily shifting to a distant bookshelf.

"Really?" she challenged, arching an eyebrow. "Because 'disapparating' out of class yesterday before I could even say hello certainly didn't seem accidental."

Severus looked down at his feet, his jaw tightening as he let out a deep breath. "I may have behaved… improperly yesterday."

"Improperly? You threatened David with a trip to Pomfrey and avoided me."

"I may have acted… overly harsh," he admitted, the words strained. His eyes finally met hers. "You were… incapacitated, and too many people had… comments about the event. It was not my intention to behave as I did."

Evangeline tilted her head, her lips curving into a faint smile. "You know, Severus, sometimes 'Sorry I was a git' works just as well without the speech."

His shoulders stiffened at her choice of words, but he took a short breath. "Then… my apologies, Evangeline," he said carefully. "I did not wish to cause discomfort."

"Accepted," she said, as her smile widened. "And David? Or does he only get your signature death glare?"

"You may extend this apology to Frezidoft, if you feel so inclined." Severus replied curtly, his lips twitching in what might have been the ghost of a smirk.

Evangeline shook her head, clearly amused. "Well, at least you're consistent, Severus," she said lightly, leaning back against the wall. "Care to come back to the table? I'm sure the group would love your 'colorful' input on Olympus's fate."

Severus arched a single brow, his expression sharp. "I have far more pressing matters to address than indulging in such nonsense."

"Humor me, Severus. What's your take? Squid romance? Banshee pursuit?"

"Most likely," Severus drawled. "He will resign out of sheer frustration, unable to endure the likes of Potter and his ilk."

Evangeline blinked, then let out a short laugh. "Well, that was… anticlimactic."

Severus crossed his arms, his lips twitching faintly. "You asked, Evangeline. I simply delivered."

"Fair point, Severus." She tilted her head, studying him for a moment. "I guess I'll head back with your lovely input, unless, of course, you change your mind and want to join us?"

"I assure you, I will not," he replied coolly.

Evangeline shrugged, stepping back toward her friends. "I'll see you in the lab, Sev," she said lightly, throwing a quick wave over her shoulder as she turned away.

Severus lingered for a moment, his dark eyes following her retreating form as she rejoined her group. He slipped a hand into his pocket, his fingers brushing the edges of the note tucked carefully inside. The simple gesture steadied him, a faint reminder of something unfamiliar: gratitude.

With a soft exhale, he turned and sought out an empty table in the far corner of the library. Sitting down, he unfolded his parchment and quill, immersing himself in his notes and refining his spell theories.

Several days later, in the quiet of the potions lab, Severus stood with his wand loosely gripped in one hand. Across from him, Evangeline and David (whom he reluctantly tolerated tagging along this time) were perched on stools, watching with keen interest as he prepared to try again.

"You've got this, Sev," Evangeline said, leaning forward. "Just focus."

David smirked. "Yeah, just don't picture me falling into a freezing lake this time. That might not help."

Severus gave him a sharp look, as though contemplating hexing him on the spot, before muttering the incantation, "Expecto Patronum." A faint wisp of silver light flickered at the tip of his wand before vanishing. His jaw tightened, and he exhaled sharply through his nose.

"Oh! Dragon's dung!" Evangeline exclaimed, leaning forward in excitement. "Sev, you were so close! Did you see that?"

"Yes, Eva, I did," he replied curtly, his tone clipped. "But that's the thing. I was almost there, not there. Almost is not good enough."

Severus shot David a withering glare seeing him smirk in the background. "I can live without your input, Frezidoft. Remind me again why you're here?"

"I'm here with Eva," David said smoothly, shrugging. "We've got Quidditch strategy to plot. Beating Slytherin will be—" he mimed a chef's kiss "—muah, perfection incarnate.

"Perhaps I should focus on the thought of you falling off your broom during the match," Severus retorted dryly, his lips curling into a faint sneer.

David held up his hands in mock surrender, grinning. "Hey, whatever keeps your broom up and running, Snape."

Severus rolled his eyes and raised his wand again, determined to ignore David's incessant chatter. "Expecto Patronum." he said firmly. A faint silver ball formed, hovering briefly before fading once more. He frowned, his grip on the wand tightening.

He rifled through memories—the rare, untainted ones with Lily during their childhood, the satisfaction of mastering spells beyond his years, even the smug delight of outsmarting Potter in a duel. None of them produced the corporal Patronus he sought.

Evangeline slid off her stool, walking toward him. "I think you're overthinking it, Severus."

"Overthinking?" he echoed, his voice brimming with skepticism. "An interesting observation, coming from someone whose every Quidditch strategy includes six backup plans."

"Seven," she corrected with a smirk. "And you know just as well as I do that the charm needs a powerful emotion as much as it does skill."

"Such profound insight," he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You know Eva," David interjected, leaning on the desk. "If sarcasm worked, Snape could drive off every Dementor in Britain."

Severus glared at David, his wand lowering slightly. "A Patronus might not even be necessary in your presence, Frezidoft. Even a Dementor would consider you a waste of its time."

David held up his hands in mock surrender, a grin on his face. "And that's my cue. Eva, I'll leave you to deal with our resident Dementor."

"See you, Dave." She waved him off, her tone casual but her eyes flicking back to Severus. "Alright, Severus. You're close. But biting off our friend's head isn't going to help."

"Your friend Eva."

Evangeline arched a brow "He's more your friend than that 'lovely' group of yours."

Severus said nothing, his jaw tightening briefly before he turned his attention back to his wand. He raised it once more, his mind combing through memories. His first perfectly brewed potion, the rare sense of satisfaction when a complex spell worked flawlessly, the distant echo of Lily's laughter in his mind. Each surfaced but failed to hold.

And then came the memory of the lake, the look in Evangeline's eyes when she had thanked him in the hospital wing. The note she'd written him, tucked carefully into his robes even now.

Her note.

With a steadying breath, Severus focused. "Expecto Patronum."

This time, silver light erupted from his wand, forming a brilliant white raven. It flew gracefully around the room, its wings cutting through the air in an elegant arc before fading into nothingness.

Evangeline gasped, a wide grin spreading across her face. "Wow, Severus! That was incredible! I knew it would be a raven! It suits you." She didn't hesitate to throw her arms around him in excitement.

Severus stiffened at the sudden embrace, his voice dry as he said, "I distinctly recall you also predicting a panther. Or an eagle."

"Details, details," she said breezily, stepping back with a bright smile. "Now this is great! Now we can both do it!"

Severus shook his head, lowering his wand as he glanced at the faint traces of silver in the air. Without another word, he gestured for her to follow, and the two quietly exited the lab, the echo of the Patronus still lingering in the silence.

A few weeks passed, and the incident at the lake had faded into Hogwarts' steady rhythm, becoming little more than occasional fodder for the Slytherin gang's taunts. Severus ignored most of their comments, though the rare jab involving Evangeline sparked an irritation he couldn't entirely suppress. He channeled his focus into his studies, his marks unwaveringly high, and his essays as precise as ever.

Slughorn entered the classroom with his usual jovial flair, a stack of essays in hand. "Good afternoon, my fine young potion masters! How time flies! The year is already slipping away, and soon enough, you'll be knee-deep in exams. But before that, let's take a moment to appreciate your recent efforts!"

He began handing out essays, pausing at each desk to offer praise. "Miss Evans! Absolutely splendid! Your inclusion of flobberworm mucus as a stabilizer refreshing! Five points to Gryffindor for such a well-rounded essay."

Lily beamed as she accepted her parchment, the bright red "O" at the top catching the light.

When Slughorn reached Severus, his smile widened. "Mister Snape! Exceptional, as always. Your insights on bezoar interactions, truly remarkable. I daresay, it rivaled some of my colleagues' work."

Severus inclined his head slightly, accepting the essay with his usual composed demeanor. The bold "Outstanding" scrawled across the top was no surprise.

Slughorn clapped his hands together, drawing the class's attention. "Now, let's dive into today's lesson. You've all been working on antidotes, yes? Essential knowledge, of course, but what happens when the potion doesn't harm the body, but rather… meddles with the heart?"

This sparked a ripple of curiosity, and several students straightened in their seats. Slughorn moved to the desk at the front of the room, where a small cauldron sat with its lid firmly in place.

"I have here one of the most famous and dangerous potions known to wizardkind. Can anyone tell me what it is?"

Several hands shot up immediately, including those of Lily, Evangeline, and Severus. Slughorn's gaze twinkled as he scanned the room. "Ah, Mister Snape. Your thoughts?"

Severus lowered his hand and said smoothly, "It appears to be Amortentia, sir, though I would require confirmation."

"Excellent deduction, my boy! Ten points to Slytherin." Slughorn gestured toward Lily next. "Miss Evans, care to elaborate for the class?"

Lily spoke confidently. "Amortentia is a love potion, sir. It doesn't create real love—that's impossible, but it causes a powerful obsession or infatuation. It smells differently to everyone, depending on what they find most attractive or comforting."

"Precisely, my dear! Ten points to Gryffindor. Amortentia is powerful and perilous. Its effects can be devastating, which is why you'll all learn today how to recognize and counter it. But for now…" He lifted the lid with a flourish, releasing shimmering spirals of mist that twisted lazily into the air. "A demonstration."

He lifted the lid of the cauldron, releasing a shimmering mist that swirled lazily upward. "For those curious, you may take a light sniff. Just a sniff, mind you! Let's not tempt fate."

The students began lining up, Severus stayed seated, his expression unreadable as he watched the others.

"Not curious?" Evangeline asked, glancing at him.

"No," Severus replied curtly. "I already know it won't interest me."

Evangeline smirked but said nothing, joining the line. Severus returned to his notes, though snippets of conversation from the front reached his ears.

"Treacle tart and… fresh-cut grass!" Lily exclaimed, her cheeks slightly pink.

"Parchment and… roasted chestnuts?" David muttered, looking perplexed. "What does that even mean?"

The other students laughed as Slughorn chuckled along. "It's not meant to make sense, my boy. That's the mystery of the potion!"

Slughorn's voice interrupted Severus's thoughts. "Ah, Mister Snape! Don't be shy. Even the most logical minds can indulge in curiosity."

Severus hesitated before rising, all too aware of the eyes following him as he approached the cauldron. The mist curled toward him like a living thing, and he leaned in, inhaling lightly. A mix of scents filled his senses: aged parchment, faint traces of fresh rain, a hint of cinnamon, and… lavender.

He straightened, his expression carefully neutral. "Nothing of particular note," he said coolly, brushing past Slughorn's curious gaze.

"Really?" Slughorn pressed, his eyes twinkling. "Surely something must have caught your attention, my boy."

Severus's lips thinned. "Nothing worth mentioning," he replied, walking back toward his desk without another word.

As the bell rang, Severus wasted no time gathering his things, eager to leave. Yet the scents lingered in his mind, the last two in particular, though he refused to dwell on why.

"So, Sev, what did you smell?" Evangeline's voice cut through his thoughts as she fell into step beside him.

"As I told Slughorn, nothing worth mentioning," he said curtly, though his grip on his bag tightened slightly.

"I doubt that very much," she replied lightly, her tone teasing. "I caught ink, can you believe that? And sandalwood, I think. Quite the mix no?"

"How utterly fascinating," Severus muttered.

Evangeline smirked, unfazed. "See you later? Mother sent something this morning, and I thought you'd want to see it. I showed David and the others already."

Severus gave her a stiff nod, and she turned to leave, rejoining her friends with an easy wave.

"So, Snape," Rosier began, smirking. "Did you smell anything good? Or was it just books and cauldrons for you?"

"No, Rosier," Severus replied with clipped precision. "I didn't."

"Of course, Snape, of course," Rosier said mockingly, exchanging a glance with Avery. "Well, come on then. Mulciber's waiting in the Forbidden Forest. You remember Lucius, don't you? He's here."

Severus knew he had no way out of this meeting. Resigned, he followed the group toward the forest, his thoughts briefly flickering back to lavender and cinnamon before he pushed them away. By the time they reached the darkened woods, his expression was once again as inscrutable as ever.

~~~~~~~~END OF CHAPTER~~~~~~~~

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