Severus Snape: The Half Blood Prince

*(40) Farewells

She splashed water on her face, hoping to wash away the remnants of unease that still clung to her. Her reflection in the mirror looked paler than usual, and her eyes held a hint of fatigue. Despite the unsettled feeling in her stomach, she was resolute in presenting a composed and lively facade to the world.

With each step, Sophie gracefully descended the grand, sweeping staircase, her eyes eagerly taking in the opulence of the foyer that surrounded her. Intricate tapestries adorned the walls, depicting ancient scenes of wizarding history, while magnificent candelabras bathed the area in a warm, flickering glow. The scent of aged wood and polished marble filled her nostrils, mingling with the mouthwatering aroma of the gourmet breakfast prepared by the devoted house-elf, Wockly.

Despite the luxurious setting, Sophie's heart sank as she realized that Severus, her elusive partner, was nowhere to be found. Nevertheless, her spirits were lifted by the enticing feast laid out before her. The table was a masterpiece of culinary artistry, boasting an array of dishes that would rival those found in the finest restaurants. The eggs, cooked to a perfect creamy consistency, were sprinkled with a delicate pinch of seasoning, while the bacon had been expertly crisped to an irresistible crunch. A carafe of the orchard's finest apple juice, gleaming like liquid gold, beckoned invitingly. The milk was nowhere to be seen thanks to Fenrir throwing a tantrum the day before.

As she unfolded her pristine linen napkin and placed it gently on her lap, Sophie marveled at the impeccable presentation of the meal. The plates and cutlery were arranged with meticulous precision, a testament to the skill and dedication of the humble house-elf, Wockly. It was a feast befitting a queen, although in this case, a guest of the formidable Dark Lord himself.

"Thank you so much, Wockly," Sophie expressed her heartfelt gratitude, her voice resonating with genuine appreciation.

"No, Wockly thanks you, misses. Wockly thinks it an honor to serve guests of the Dark Lord," the house-elf replied humbly, hopping off the counter to fetch a mop and begin cleaning the already spotless floor. However, Sophie couldn't shake the gnawing discomfort at the realization of house-elves being subjected to servitude and forced labor. Her sense of justice urged her to see all beings treated with fairness and dignity, regardless of their station.

Having thoroughly savored the delectable breakfast, Sophie delicately placed her empty plate in the sink, ensuring that Wockly wouldn't have to go through the trouble of leaping up onto the counter again. She folded her napkin with care and left it neatly on the chair, a gesture of respect for the house-elf's devoted efforts.

As she turned to leave the kitchen, her path was suddenly blocked by the imposing figure of Fenrir Greyback. The wild look in his eyes and the gruesome sight of him covered in white feathers and blood sent shivers down her spine. Sophie's instincts urged her to be cautious, as she knew that dealing with someone as unpredictable and dangerous as Fenrir Greyback required a delicate approach in this treacherous world of magic and darkness.

He sniffed the air around her, his voice laced with menace. "You're lucky the werewolf that gave you those scars wasn't me. I'd have left no trace you ever existed." Sophie's heart pounded in her chest, and she could feel the weight of the situation. Fenrir's menacing presence sent shivers down her spine, and she had to suppress the urge to tremble under his scrutiny. The dim light from the flickering candles cast eerie shadows on the walls, adding to the ominous atmosphere.

Gathering her courage, Sophie straightened her posture, trying to maintain an air of confidence. Her voice quivered only slightly as she retorted, "I can fend for myself, thank you very much." She could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins as she braced herself for his next move.

Fenrir growled in response, his eyes narrowing into slits as he reached out to grab her shoulder. Sophie's reflexes kicked in, and she gracefully evaded his grasp, her wand swiftly finding its way to his throat. The tip of her wand pressed against his skin, a tangible reminder of the power she held in her hands. Her heart pounded even louder, but she refused to let her fear show. The tension in the room was palpable as they engaged in this silent standoff, neither one backing down.