Marylebone, Muggle London.

Severa managed to shoo Nicole out of her room, not without some teasing from her first about secret lovers and messages. Her giggles echoed long after Severa shut the door. Now, she stood before her desk and sighed, "Alright, I'm going to pen a letter, and you're in the way." She told the owl.

Altair gave a sharp hoot, his golden eyes narrowing slightly. He flapped his wings, making his displeasure known before shifting and settling on the metal bars of the headboard of her bed.

"Thank you."

He gave a disgruntled hoooouh, his feathers fluffing slightly as he settled down, his head turning and watching her as she sat down at her desk.

She pulled out a piece of parchment and dipped her quill. She thought about how she could respond. Humming, she then put her quill to paper.

Fleamont Potter,

It was a pleasant surprise to hear from you, Mr. Potter. I must confess, I didn't expect you to write—let alone so soon—but I'm glad to have seen your owl. And thank you for the warning about Altair, though I must say, it came a bit too late for my roommate's finger and her bag of trail mix.

The pleasure was certainly mine. Thank you again for sharing both your time and your table with me today. I would be more than happy to continue our conversation. What exactly is it you wish to know? As for the partnership, I assume you mean with Seraphine? I'd be more than happy to discuss her with you.

I'm curious to try the desserts you mentioned—though, I must admit, I find myself craving another Bakewell tart. I believe you said you wouldn't be back at the café for a few weeks due to business, but until then, I'll be happy to continue our conversation by owl. Perhaps you could even suggest another dessert to tempt me?

Sincerely,
Severa Snape

With the final flourish on her name, Severa set down her quill. She read over her letter and nodded to herself. Yes, it was perfect. Polite, slightly playful, and hopefully would leave him eager to write his next letter. Carefully, Severa folded the letter into three parts and slid it into an envelope. Picking up her quill again, she wrote: Fleamont Potter

Flipping the letter over, she waved a hand over the candle, watching it ignite. She picked up her wax-melting spoon, dropped a cube of emerald green wax into it, and held it over the flame. Once it melted, she poured the wax onto the back, sealing the letter. Setting the spoon down on her desk, she grabbed her stamp—an elegant rose with a serpent hidden within its folds. She pressed it down, letting it rest for a moment before lifting it away.

Satisfied with the seal, Severa held the envelope up to inspect her work. The wax had cooled into a perfect impression—subtle yet intricate. A small smirk tugged at her lips as she traced the design with her thumb.

She turned toward the bed. "Alright, Altair. You have another job."

The owl cracked open one golden eye before giving a slow blink, as if debating whether he should humor her. With a stretch of his wings and a disgruntled fluff of his feathers, he swooped down from the headboard, landing gracefully on the edge of her desk.

"Don't act so put out," she chided, tying the letter securely to his leg. "You'll be rewarded when you return to your owner."

Altair gave a haughty hoot, shaking his leg slightly as if to remind her that she was the one inconveniencing him, not the other way around.

Rolling her eyes, she carried him to the window and nudged it open. "Straight back to Fleamont Potter," she instructed. "No distractions."

With a final sharp look, Altair launched himself into the cool night air, disappearing into the darkness.

Severa lingered by the window for a moment, watching until the faint outline of the owl blended into the sky. She let out a slow breath, closing the window and drawing the curtains.

Now, all that was left to do was wait.

With a sigh, she walked over to her bed and flopped down with a slight groan.

Staring up at the ceiling, Severa let her arms rest loosely at her sides, her fingers curling slightly against the fabric of her duvet. The room was quiet now, save for the occasional creak of the old wooden furniture settling. Nicole had left in a flurry of giggles, Altair was off on his mission, and Severa was finally alone with her thoughts.

She traced idle patterns on the bedspread, her mind replaying her conversation with Fleamont at the café. She hadn't expected to enjoy it as much as she had—his company had been pleasant, and his wit was sharper than she had anticipated. A smirk tugged at her lips as she recalled his playful teasing, the way he had studied her with those thoughtful, assessing eyes. He had charm, certainly. That much was undeniable.

But that wasn't why she was doing this.

Rolling onto her side, she propped her head up with her hand, her eyes drifting toward the window. The letter was sent. The next move was his.

And yet…

She bit the inside of her cheek. There was something about this step in her plan that felt different—like she was walking a fine line between strategy and something else entirely. It was all carefully calculated, but she had to be mindful. This wasn't about enjoying his company. This was about control. About carefully pulling him deeper into her web.

And so she would wait.

With a decisive nod to herself, she turned over, pulling the blanket up over her shoulder. Tomorrow will come soon enough. And with it, perhaps, a response.

Her eyes had barely been closed for a minute when a knock sounded at her door. Peeking over the blanket, she eyed it warily, debating whether getting up to let Nicole in was worthwhile.

Another knock followed—louder, more insistent. Severa groaned, pressing her face into the pillow before exhaling sharply and pushing herself up.

"If you forgot something, I swear—" she muttered, swinging her legs over the bed and shuffling toward the door.

She pulled it open, fully prepared to send Nicole away, only to pause, her brows knitting together at the sight before her. "What is this?" she asked, eyes narrowing.

Nicole stood there, arms overflowing with snacks, a blanket draped over her shoulders like a makeshift cloak. She gave Severa a sheepish grin. "I need to take my mind off men tonight. Film night?"

Severa blinked, her gaze flicking between Nicole's hopeful expression and the assortment of snacks threatening to spill from her arms. She sighed, leaning against the doorframe.

"You're insufferable, you know that?"

Nicole grinned. "And yet, here you are, still putting up with me."

Severa rolled her eyes but stepped aside, gesturing for Nicole to enter. "Fine. But if you pick something ridiculous, I'm kicking you out."

Nicole gasped in mock offense as she shuffled inside, dumping the snacks onto Severa's bed before dramatically wrapping her blanket tighter around herself. "Severa Snape, are you implying I have bad taste in films?"

"I'm not implying anything. I'm outright saying it," Severa replied, crossing her arms. "Last time, you made me sit through that disaster. I still have nightmares about the awful dialogue."

Nicole laughed, already digging through her collection of VHSs. "Alright, alright. I promise, no romantic comedies with questionable acting this time." She glanced over her shoulder. "Something dark and broody, then? A tragic historical drama? Or do you want to watch something so mindless we forget men even exist?"

Severa sighed and sank back onto her bed, grabbing a bag of crisps and opening it with a lazy flick of her fingers. "The latter, obviously."

Nicole smirked, holding up a VHS case. "I knew you'd say that. I came prepared."

Severa arched a brow as Nicole popped the videotape into the VCR player. The screen flickered to life, and as the opening credits rolled, Severa settled in, resigning herself to whatever ridiculousness Nicole had chosen.

At least it would be a distraction.