Euston, Muggle London.
"So, Severa Snape?" He said, shifting into a more comfortable spot; his fingers danced over the rim of his teacup before they slid to the side and tapped against the ceramic.
Severa raised a smooth black eyebrow in response.
Fleamont chuckled. "I recognised your name from Potions Weekly, several years ago. The youngest Potions Mistress in over a century. You were twenty-one, if I recall."
She leaned back in her chair and gave him a barely there grin, making sure it held a hit of flirtiness but not so much that it could be considered rude or improper. "Yes, I was." She said, bringing her coffee up to her lips.
He hummed, and his interest peaked, looking at her with soft hazel eyes. "And, if I may, Ms Snape, where do you work now?"
Severa gave him a confused look, unsure why that mattered. And Fleamont hurried to explain, "For someone so talented and especially one who works in the field I'm heavily involved in," he cocked his head in thought "I've not heard of you much. One would think you would be making waves in the potioneer business, all things considered."
"Ah, well," She hesitated, unsure if she should explain or not; after all, she wanted to keep his curiosity piqued, even if that meant letting him in on one of her deepest secrets. "Have you heard of Seraphine Corvane?"
Fleamont's eyes widened in pure shock; the teacup he was bringing to his lips he brought down with a heavy thunk. "No," he breathed, eyes wide "You're….?"
Severa knew right then she had him hooked; there was no way he would not be interested in her. Yes, it was a little unconventional, but she would reel him in through her potion work, a shared interest. Isn't that what everyone says works in your favour?
She hummed in confirmation, "I don't want to nor desire to deal with all the hoopla that comes with publishing work in your given name. The reporters, the owls," she wrinkled her nose in distaste, "the endless amounts of offers."
Fleamont seemed to be able to shake off his shock and blinked at her, both confusion and understanding colouring his features. "I can understand that, but you're saying you're the Seraphine Corvane? The brilliant potionteer who published countless books and articles, not to mention spells, but also, and probably the most important, Vincula Corvani. The spell that allows the user's ingredients to bind together seamlessly?"
Severa chuckled and nodded. Was that awe she heard in Fleamont Potter's voice? Yes, yes, it was.
"Well, I'll be damned." He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "This is not how I expected my morning to go. Running into the potionteer countless others, myself included, mind you, have tried to contact." The excitement in his voice was apparent to hear.
"I'm a big fan of your work, especially Lumen Nebula."
"Lumen Nebula?" She asked. Out of all the spells she'd created, that was the one he liked the most? What an odd man.
"Yes, it's a little unorthodox, and I know of many who have turned their noses up at it. After all, it does seem like a useless potion." Fleamont's eye twinkled "But I have never known you, or should I say Seraphine, to produce 'useless' potions or spells. And because of that, I looked deeper into the potion itself. Moonstone Dust? Glowroot Extract? Silverleaf? Moonstone is commonly used in many different potions, but the other two? I asked myself, 'Why? Why would she use those? And combine it with Moonstone?'" He leaned forward, his voice dipped "And do you know what I found, Ms Snape?" he asked.
Severa was fascinated and a little impressed; she'd admit, it was a whole new experience to have someone almost gush over your work. This was a first for her. It was…nice. Flattering but nice. She knew what most of the wizarding world thought of this particular potion, how they often referred to it as a dud, useless, a stain on the mark of Seraphina Corvane.
"What did you find, Mr Potter?" She said, looking at him with impressed amusement, her voice laced with her curiosity as she gripped her coffee cup, which was nearly completely empty and cold to the touch.
"Lemen Nebula, Latin for The Glow of the Unseen. Most believe it's like a Wit-Sharpening potion, and because of that, they dismiss it. Why use yours when there's a much simpler one to brew and use? But that's not it; it allows you to see all that is unseen, literally."
He eyed her with no small amount of curiosity, but his excitement overruled it all. Severa could see why he was so good at what he does. She could see his love for potions, it was as much a part of him as it was a part of her. "I know what that potion can do, and it is truly amazing." He continued.
Severa felt her cheeks heat up and cleared her throat. "Well, I'm glad you're such a fan of my work."
This whole meeting had slipped out of her fingers; this was not how she expected things to go. Catching his attention had gone easier than she thought it would, and it didn't seem like it would be hard to convince him to meet again.
Fleamont gave her another one of his stupidly handsome smiles, "Tell me, Ms Snape, I'm curious; I'm assuming you went to Hogwarts?" At her nod, he continued, "Which house were you in? Ravenclaw?"
"Ravenclaw?" She asked, amused.
He raised an eyebrow at her amusement, but instead of answering, he turned towards the young man behind the counter "Could we get two cups of tea, please, Steve?"
The man, Steve, smiled, "Sure thing, Monty!"
Fleamont turned back to Severa and glanced at his watch. "Would you have another cup of tea with me before I have to go?" he asked her, his tone was soft, if not slightly eager.
Severa knew that he was overstaying; the clock on the wall was ticking closer to one. He was usually gone by twelve. This was perfect; she was worried about how she'd secure another meeting with him, and this was her chance. She didn't want to wait until next Sunday, considering she hadn't gotten a chance yet to go to the apothecary to secure herself a job.
"Of course, Mr Potter. How could I disappoint my favourite fan?" She teased him lightly.
His chuckle was deep and smooth; it carried the same huskiness his voice did, "Indeed," he agreed easily.
Steve arrived at the table, interrupting them as he placed teacups in front of them. He grabbed their old cups–her coffee one and his tea one– and took them away as he left. Fleamont thanked him as he went. A creamer sat on the table full of milk, a small bowl with sugar and a spoon next to it. Fleamont offered her the creamer and sugar first.
Severa poured some milk, and spooned one and a half spoons of sugar into her cup, and mixed it. She offered him the spoon, and as he reached over to take it, their fingers brushed against each other. Their eyes met, and like Severa had practised, she smiled at him. She could see the effect it had on him. She'll admit she didn't think it would work like she'd seen countless other women do, but it did.
He cleared his throat and took the spoon; he averted his gaze as he spooned in his sugar and poured his milk. He mixed his tea and placed the spoon down on the saucer with a clink. He sat back again, crossed one leg over the other, and took a sip, humming in satisfaction as the warmth hit his stomach.
It was quiet between the two of them for a moment as they sipped their tea. Not uncomfortable, but thoughtful.
"Yes, Ravenclaw," he says, returning to their previous discussion. "You're highly intelligent; it's not far-fetched to think you're a Raven."
Severa hums; not many people praise her intelligence and usually those who did, did so mockingly. Sure, she's had people –Nicole– say in passing, "You're so smart, Vera!" But that was hardly on the same level. No, this made her feel a certain way. It put a warmth in her stomach, a heat on her cheeks; it left her tongue-tied–praise was unfamiliar territory, and it felt like stepping into sunlight after too long in the shade.
She liked the praise but not so much the feeling it brought with it. It settled on her uncomfortably. She felt a need to shy away and hide.
Instead, she regarded him coolly; she hid any uncertainty his words suddenly brought her and took another sip of her tea. "Mm, I can see why you would think so, but no, I was a Slytherin."
Fleamont cocked his head and looked at her, his eyes roaming over her face like she was a puzzle "A Slytherin? I would never have guessed," he chuckled. "But then again, I don't know you very well. All I know is your persona, Seraphine, and she very much comes off as a Ravenclaw."
"Then I did a good job when I created her." A grin tugged at her lips.
He laughed out loudly, "Yes! Yes, you did." His eyes shone with mirth. "Very clever."
Severa joined in on his laughter; her slightly higher-pitched laughter blended with his husky chuckles. After a few moments, his chuckles died down, and he looked at his watch and sighed. "Regrettably, I must leave." He gave her an apologetic look.
Severa's laughter died with his, and she schooled her face into slight disappointment. "Of course, Mr. Potter. I'm sure you're a busy man. Thank you for indulging me and for a seat at your table."
Fleamont waved a hand, "Banish the thought, love; it's been an honour to be able to sit with such lovely company today." He seemed to hesitate for a moment before saying, "In fact, would you mind indulging me?"
Internally, Severa smirked, but outwardly, she tilted her head and looked at him in confusion. "Me?"
He nodded, pulled out his wallet, and placed a tenner on the table. "Yes, I would love to be able to sit and talk with you some more. Unfortunately, I will be swamped these next few weeks. A new product is coming out, so I'm pressed for time, but could I owl you?"
"Of course, Mr Potter! I would love that," She smiled at him, one he returned.
With that, he stood up and collected his book and newspaper. He then tapped the tenner on the table with his finger, saying, "Tea is on me. Until next time, Ms Snape. It was truly a pleasure."
She gave him a grateful look, her smile still firmly in place, "Oh, thank you. Until we meet again, Mr Potter. I look forward to your owl."
She continued to smile until he was gone, and once she was sure he wouldn't return, her smile dropped, and a smirk took its place.
Got him.