The Last Potion

After I left the dungeons, I didn’t see Professor Snape again until the
following evening at dinner






Chapter 14 – Afterthoughts

 

After I left the dungeons, I didn’t see Professor
Snape again until the following evening at dinner. He sat quietly, only picking
daintily at the food on his plate. He seemed somewhat perturbed, but I didn’t
give it a second thought. His eyes never lifted to meet mine. It was as if he
didn’t even know I was there. But I knew he did. Professor Snape never missed a
thing.

Perhaps he just didn’t care.

He told me that our copulation would be meaningless
to him, and I believed him. I sat hoping that my words would do something to
tame his ferocity, but they did nothing. If anything, I think it was his words
that shocked me the most.

He’d saved my life yet again.

I remembered that it was St. Mungo’s where I awoke,
but I’d never asked how I’d gotten there. I never cared, not really.

I’d lost my baby. That was the only thing on my
mind. I didn’t care much about anything else. I don’t think I even bothered to
think of how I came to be.

For days I sat up in my bed wondering if it were
better this way. Was I safer without Daemon? Was Daemon fit to be a father?

Of course not!

Some days I feel glad that our baby wasn’t given the
opportunity to suffer the life of a Death Eater’s child, and others I feel
confident that I’d be able to raise our child far away from Daemon.

But then there was always that soft, little voice in
my head that spoke: Another day, another father. I’m still young yet. I
will find a man fit to raise a child, but that day may be far away, for my luck
with love is doing anything but improving.

I suppose I’ve had plenty of partners, but never a
lover.

Daemon was not a lover. I wish I’d have known that
all along. I’d have spared my child and myself the pain his phoney love caused.

The funny thing was, I fell in love with him because
of how much he reminded me of Professor Snape.

So dark.

So alluring.

So mysterious.

It was his hands I pretended to feel when Daemon
first touched me. And when he kissed me, I imagined it was Professor Snape’s
lips stroking mine. And when he made love to me for the first time…

All mighty Merlin, I wanted it to be him.

If I’d known better – ha! – if I’d only known howuel uel and heartless that man really was. I’m such a fool for ever wanting a man
like Severus Snape.

What did I ever see in him?

I thought I saw passion, a dark hidden passion. His
tall, dark figure was imposing, mystifying and even glamorous in a bizarre sort
of way. He held my attention with his majestic composure and his refined
gestures. I lost myself gazing into the depths of his black eyes. I let myself
be absorbed in the soft velvet of his voice. I yearned ose ose myself in the
warmth and comfort of his embrace…

But his embrace holds neither warmth nor comfort.

For years I thought that that one single night of
companionship and intimacy would be enough to settle the years of longing,
satisfying my desperate need for his touch.

I don’t think I’d ever been more mistaken in my
life. Although, had our copulation been companionable and satisfying, perhaps I
would not be so inclined to think so. Professor Snape was uncompromising,
insensitive, savage and hard-hearted.

All of that passion I assumed lay hidden under his
shrouds of black – nothing. All of that care and precision I saw in his hands
each year in Potions class – selfish greed.

I lay on my bed for most of the evening pondering
over all of the assumptions I had concocted about Professor Snape over the
years as a Hogwarts student. I hated to cry over such a cruel and heartless
man, but I could feel the sting of tears in corncorners of my eyes and then the
warm moisture trickling down my cheeks and onto my pillow.

Tomorrow I will fulfill my obligation and prepare
his potions and then be on my way. There will be no return. I cannot bear to
face Hogwarts again.

 

Knock. Knock. Knock.

 

The gentle rap at the door awoke me.

I thought it was late, but the grandfather clock in
the corner of my room only read 9:30. Quickly, I hurried out of bed and tossed
a robe over my nightgown. It must have been the Headmaster and for him it was
hardly appropriate to be answering his call in such attire.

I wrapped the silk robe tight around my body and hid
behind the door as I opened it. In the corridor stood not Professor Dumbledore,
but the callous Potions Master himself.

 

I’m sorry it’s taken so long… but I do promise to
have the next chapter up soon… Ricky Roo.