Severus closed the book, his fingers resting lightly on the worn edges of the pages. His gaze flickered toward Sia, assessing.
"Do you want to grab something from the kitchens and come back to continue reading?"
Sia blinked at him, momentarily thrown off.
"You know where the kitchen is?" she asked, gaping at him.
Severus gave her a look—a mix of mild exasperation and amusement. One that clearly said, Who do you think I am?
"Let's go."
Sia followed eagerly, curiosity piqued. They moved through the dimly lit corridors, the quiet of the nearly empty castle pressing around them. When they reached a particular stretch of stone, Severus veered toward an alcove where a series of paintings displayed extravagant feasts.
And then she saw it.
A massive still-life painting of a fruit bowl.
Severus raised a hand, fingers deftly brushing over the surface until they landed on a pear. He tickled it.
Sia barely registered the soft laugh that escaped her lips—she was too caught up staring at his hand. Long fingers, precise movements. A potion maker's hands.
Then the door swung open.
The sight inside stole her breath.
The Hogwarts kitchens were nearly as large as the Great Hall, filled with bustling house-elves preparing for the evening Christmas feast. The scent of fresh bread, roasting meats, and sweet pastries filled the air.
Sia stepped forward, pushing past Severus to take it all in. She had seen efficiency before—her parents' lab demanded nothing less—but this was something else entirely.
The elves moved with practiced ease, orchestrating chaos into seamless perfection.
She was in awe.
Meanwhile, Severus had already made his request. A house-elf quickly handed over a tray of assorted snacks, and Sia barely noticed until she heard him say, "Two hot chocolates as well."
She turned, raising an eyebrow.
"You don't like hot chocolate," she stated.
Severus exhaled through his nose. "I don't," he confirmed.
Sia grinned. "Then you've never had mine."
She crouched slightly, addressing the elf. "Could you follow this recipe instead? And add marshmallows?"
The elf's ears perked up. "Of course, miss!"
Severus gave her a skeptical look but didn't object. A minute later, they left the kitchens, their hands full of food, thanking the elves as they stepped back into the dim corridor.
When they reached the common room, they set the snacks on a separate table and sat down to eat.
Sia watched discreetly as Severus took his first sip of the hot chocolate. His lips barely touched the rim of the cup before his expression shifted—eyes widening just slightly, surprise flickering across his usually impassive face.
And then, in the next second, his expression schooled itself back into neutrality.
"It's not bad," he said.
Sia smirked. "You're not fooling anyone."
They finished their food in comfortable silence, and when they were satisfied, they returned to the book.
The discussion picked up where it had left off. With full stomachs and relaxed postures, they abandoned the rigid structure of sitting at the table, choosing instead to set pillows on the floor, their backs against the couch, the book sprawled open between them.
They read. They debated.
Severus, sharp and methodical, unraveled complexities with ease, his understanding of potion mechanics deeper than most professors would expect from a student.
Sia, on the other hand, navigated through the tangled web of theories with a broader perspective. Her parents had thrown advanced concepts at her before she had mastered the previous ones, forcing her to learn by association rather than progression. It made her grasp of theory unpredictable—disorganized in some places but unexpectedly insightful in others.
Together, they filled the gaps in each other's knowledge.
Neither of them noticed how the hours bled away, how time stretched and folded until it no longer seemed to exist.
It was only when Sia rolled onto her side, stretching her fingers over a particularly dense passage, that she realized the fire had burned low.
She exhaled. "We've been at this for hours."
Severus made a sound of agreement but didn't look away from the text.
Then, as if the idea had only just struck her, Sia asked, "Would you want to invent a potion with me?"
That got his attention.
His fingers stilled against the pages. Slowly, he turned to look at her.
Something flickered behind his expression—hesitation.
Sia didn't rush him. She saw the internal battle, the warring thoughts. His desire to work on something real, something challenging, against the effort he had been making to avoid her.
She let him take his time.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he gave a short nod.
A silent agreement.
And Sia grinned. "We can ask Slughorn for permission to use the classroom."
Severus glanced back at the book. "We'll need to plan first."
"Obviously."
Before either of them could say anything else, the door to the common room swung open.
Andromeda stepped inside.
She froze.
Her sharp eyes swept over the scene before her—Sia and Severus sitting side by side on the floor, surrounded by pillows, books open, mugs of hot chocolate half-finished.
It must have looked intimate.
Sia saw the flicker of amusement in Andromeda's gaze before anything else.
And she groaned internally.
Author's Note: To access future content earlier, and updates on Sia's journey, you can also find me on Wattpad under the same story title: "Obsidian Oath" by cattiness03. I'd love to see you there!