She’d yet to get use to the sight of Snape sitting behind Dumbledore’s desk. She felt very uncomfortable in his presence, yet under the circumstances, she had no choice.
“Here is a list of some things that I will be needing.” He handed her the parchment, never looking up from his book.
“Yes, sir,” Pomona Sprout took it anxiously.
“Bring them to me by the end of this day.”
“Yes, sir.” Her nervousness subsided as she felt ready to get out of his sight. As she turned, she felt a slight coolness on her shoulder.
“Professor?” He appeared from behind just as she was exiting. “I have noticed that Mr. Longbottom hasn’t been attending your class lately. Considering that he’s your star pupil, do you know why he’s been absent?”
She knew it was a rhetorical question since a lot of the students had been missing with Voldemort in charge of the Wizarding World. “ I don’t think you’re wanting to know why, Headmaster.”
His eyebrow rose as he watched her tension shift into anger. “Indeed, I could care less about the why, Professor Sprout. So let me get to the point – where's the boy?”
“ I don’t where Neville is. And I don’t care. As long as he’s not here, he’s better off somewhere else.” She’d fully expected him to torture her as he glared, menacingly, at her short stocky frame.
But he did nothing.
“By the end of this day.” His tone was calm as he stepped back to his desk.
She reached for the knob but she did not open the door. “How could you let this menace into our school, Severus?”
“The Dark Lord is not a menace to our society!”
“Says who, The Daily Prophet? The Quibbler has more truth in their articles then that trash!” She stood toe to toe with him, looking up into his eyes. “ I use to think you were different! Despite your attitude, I use to think you were better then those Slyths you hung out with! Lily had said you were, but now…now.”
Fearing she might cry, she went to the door…but he apparated in her way.
“I use to think we had a lot in common. You worked in Herbology and I in potions. One would think we could find some common ground. And yet you’ve misjudged me.” His hands grasped firmly at her shoulders, holding her in position.
The lights went dim, leaving a few candles lit around the room. Professor Sprout felt entranced as she stared into his eyes. “Do you think I’m not capable of gathering the ingredients myself? Do you really think I need to ask you where the boy is when I am fully aware? Do you think I don’t know what the Fat Friar been up to?”
She felt her heart quicken. “If you know so much, why are you questioning me?” Just then she felt the back of her leg hit his desk. He looked over her and did a quick motion of his hand, clearing all the objects that sat on the table.
“Because I want to, Pomona.” The corner of his lips curled slightly. “I am capable of handling most things. But if I did, it wouldn’t afford me the luxury of seeing you.” Before she knew it, her back was against the table. His face moved closer to hers. “You must learn to trust me, Pomona. There are things in this school that I still hold precious.”
His eyes stayed locked onto hers. Never had she looked so deep into them before. His gaze was very dark, but there was warmth and desire within his stare.
Trust me, Pomona…
The words echoed in her mind as she felt enveloped by his presence.
***
She was relieved yet still frantic as she made her way to her sanctuary. She lit one of her homemade lavender candles to calm herself.
“Professor?” The whispering voice came from the large grey vision of the Fat Friar. “Are you OK?”
“Fine. How’s Neville?”
“He’s making due like most of the students in the room.” Professor Sprout gave a heavy sigh as she sat in one of her large sod filled ceramic planters. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
Her hand racked over the dirt as if to wipe away the evil that had been lurking about. “How has this menace invaded our homes and our lives?”
The Fat Friar floated near by her to offer some consolation. “Something tells me you’re not talking about He-Who-You-Know.”
She punched her hand deeper into the sod. After all the things that bothered her about Voldemort’s occupation, Snape’s betrayl unsettled her the most. “I thought he was different. I thought he was good, despite his curt words and spiteful attitude.”
“He still could be, Professor” She huffed as she turned from his direction. “From the sound of your raised voice in his office, he could have very well cursed you into oblivion….but he didn’t.”
“Probably because he needed his precious things more.” She crumbled the paper that she was still holding.
“Maybe there are some things that he still holds precious to him.” The Friar smiled bravely before he vanished.
His words left a small smile in her heart as she gathered the things from Snape’s list.
