ℒℯ𝓈𝓈ℴ𝓃 ℴ𝒻 ℒ𝒾𝒻ℯ 𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠ℎ

❀ 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉ℯ𝓇 𝓉ℯ𝓃 ❀

❤︎𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓹𝓲𝓼𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻'𝓼 𝓼𝓸𝓻𝓻𝓸𝔀𝓼. 𝓪𝓹𝓹𝓻𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓲𝓶𝓹𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓷𝓽 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓶❤︎

Nervously, I gently clasp my hands together, feeling the tremor of anticipation course through my veins like a whispered incantation. The weight of dread sits heavily upon my chest, mingling with a potent blend of trepidation and excitement. With measured determination, I raise my right hand to tap delicately against the dark, resplendent wood of Professor Snape's office door.

"Come in," resonates a voice of commanding allure from within.

Taking a final steadying breath, I push open the door, its hinges whispering their compliance to my entrance. The room unfolds before me, cloaked in enigmatic shadows that dance with the secrets held within its depths. I step forward, traversing the room's expanse, until I stand at the threshold of the door that leads to Snape's private chambers. And, as if in deference to the power that resides within the man himself, the door swings open silently, revealing a glimpse of the professor's inner sanctum. An admiring thought flits through my mind, marveling at his ability to open the door with such ease, free from the reliance on wand or words. It is a testament to his skill, his mastery of the arcane arts.

Before venturing into the hallowed domain of the laboratory, I instinctively turn my gaze towards Snape. His countenance, usually pallid, bears an even more ghostly hue tonight. Fatigue etches lines upon his face, casting a shadow upon his features, and he appears weary and drained. Concern, long suppressed but now reignited by the memories of our recent encounter during the shopping trip with Pansy, surges within me like a torrential tide. Unable to suppress the worry that gnaws at my heart, the words escape my lips before my mind can contain them.

"You look pale."

There is a fleeting moment of disbelief that flickers across his visage, swiftly concealed by the veiled shield of a sardonic smile that curves his lips. His arms cross defensively, his stance asserting a subtle challenge.

"Once again, worry pervades your thoughts, Miss Sinclar?"

He strikes at my vulnerability, his tone laced with a touch of mockery. But I refuse to be deterred, for I have chosen the path of disarming honesty, just as my wise Granny had advised.

"Yes, indeed. And it seems I am the lone harbinger of such concern."

My voice resounds with sincerity, devoid of any mockery or sarcasm. There is no sense in denying the truth, especially when my desire to help him remains unyielding. Deep within me, a yearning lingers, an unspoken plea for this man to accept my aid, to grant me his trust. Thus, I employ a different approach, unveiling the depths of my care and concern. In that ephemeral moment, I catch a glimpse of disbelief within his features, swiftly concealed once more behind the impenetrable fortress of his Occlumency. Without uttering another word, Snape retreats to his desk, dismissing me with his silence.

Sighing, I steel myself for the imminent task that awaits me within the laboratory. The conversation, if one could call it that, has reached its culmination, its boundaries delineated. No further words can alter the course of our connection. Instead, I choose wisdom and grant him the space he desires, keeping my presence at a respectful distance. I offer him the gift of time, for him to ponder the weight and meaning of my words.

That evening, as has become customary, I stand before the simmering cauldron, its contents a tantalizing concoction promising the wonders of potent potions. In recent weeks, once the meticulous sorting and cataloging of ingredients had been accomplished, I had been granted the privilege to brew various potions, be it for the hospital wing or Snape's personal reserves. I must confess, these weekly sojourns to the dungeons have become a respite amidst the tumultuous currents of school life. The professor patiently entertains my inquiries, expounding upon the intricacies of each potion, delving far beyond the perfunctory lessons of the classroom. His attention to detail is unparalleled, and he leaves no query unanswered. Yet, he remains steadfast in maintaining a certain distance, a cautious boundary between us.