9* Clean Slate

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"Knocking is one of the good manners!" hissed Severus before he even knew who entered. He bit his lips before adding another barbed remark about detention when he realized who stood in the room, pretty to look at, with tight muggle jeans and a pale blue blouse, the cloak loosely hiding the shape of a slender body. He was caught off-guard.

Severus stifled an urge to tell Leonor how good she looked, surpassing all his expectations. There stood a woman with a history, no schoolgirl, no pampered lady or an evil bitch. The enquiring eyes framed by dark-brown hair got him once more hooked. Tanned skin in the colour of milk chocolate implanted the idea of a day at the seaside into Severus' mind, sitting somewhere on the beach, conjuring a coffee and listening to the waves and the wind — in company.

He heard of Leonor's return a week ago and knew that they would meet again on one or another day. Severus believed himself better prepared for that moment, instead he stood silent with a lump in the throat. Heat tingled his neck and he knew he flushed. All those fantasies of his mind, a dream of peace and a life other than being torn up between two masters knocked Severus off his feet. He liked to rest in peace with the long-lost love of his childhood, twisted between Lily and the one passion that came at the wrong time. Instead of hiding it all, Occlumency rocked all private thoughts into the forehead, ready to be picked out. Severus turned quickly to stir the cauldron hiding the weakness of having missed that woman every day since she left the country.

"Good evening, Severus! Are you about to give me detention?" scoffed Leonor acridly.

"Should I consider it?" croaked Severus hoarsely and continued to add ingredients to the simmering liquid. Working on that simple potion cleared his mind, slowly. Minutes passed; he listened to the blowing bubbles in the boiling liquid, occasionally interrupted by swishing of fabric and even steps. Leonor was close now and waited at a sleeve length.

"Look at me!" demanded Leonor quietly.

Severus cleared the cauldron away and turned, seeing the freckles on Leonor's nose and cheeks. He failed to intimidate her; too much of him wanted to look at her face. He spotted a bit of a silvery necklace, but it could be any jewellery of course. He must have deluded oneself.

"What do you want?" pressed Severus through gritted teeth.

"Insult me! I want you to repeat each sentence of what you said about me," said Leonor coldly.

"Hasn't it been enough at that time?" taunted Severus sardonically and walked around the woman. His teaching robes were suddenly too tight. He strode to the door, closing the same, placing the cloak on the hook and winning time.

The witch demanded again, "Repeat it!" and she added with a whisper, "If you can — look me in the eyes when you say it!"

"I hardly remember what I've said," lied Severus unbuttoning his collar, a volcano of manhood began to boil, he was in control. "It wasn't that important to me." He brushed that tweak inside his body away with a bit more of malice.

"Where is the promised and pure bride? Tell it to me! You are not married yet."

Severus propped up his hands on the workbench. His mind was empty of all keen ideas. The ability to stay calm vanished and anger flooded his midriff. Usually, women only contacted him again if they wanted to use his potions skills, but Leonor didn't need that.

"Why would you care about it?" shot Severus, nailing the wall opposite the workbench with his gaze.

"Because you never disclosed yourself to a woman, living your life in solitude! Lily Potter obviously died without a clue of your romantic feelings," snarled Leonor, provoking him to fury.

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