32. Chapter 32

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Chapter 32

It had been a long time since Severus Snape had felt as thoroughly depressed as he did now. In fact, it had been since before he had rescued Harry from the Dursleys, welcoming him into his home. Admittedly, the boy had slowly but surely brought colour into his life.

And now, here he was. He had said a terrible thing to Harry in the last fight they had. He had basically taken the fact of Harry's abuse and thrown it in his face. What kind of a horrible man did something like that? He had also managed to drive away Maya. While he was still not convinced that what Maya had told him was not a prank, he had to admit that he had reacted extremely brash. And in doing so, he had chased the woman who had become somewhat of a friend, away. She hadn't spoken with him since that fatefull day. And Harry hadn't even looked at him anymore since their fight.

As the cherry on top, Slughorn had gleefully told Snape about the last experiment Harry had conducted in regards to his potion. The old potions master meant no harm and was clearly simply very excited to be a part of Harry's discovery but it stung Snape nonetheless. Harry had not felt comfortable enough to ask Snape to assist him again and he likely wouldn't anymore unless Snape forced him to. And since Snape was, in fact, Harry's master according to their quite binding contract, that's exactly what he would have to do.

This was a mess. And he had no one to blame but himself for it.

He was pulled out of his reveries by an intruding voice. "Severus," spoke Dumbledore from Snape's fireplace. "May I come in?"

"I've never been able to stop you before," Snape grumbled.

Dumbledore chuckled and stepped out of the fire. "Good to see that you're still up," he said.

Snape frowned. Was it that late already? He had completely lost track of time with being engulfed in his thoughts.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Snape asked plainly, "Did one of my Slytherins misbehave again?"

"Nothing that has come to light yet," Dumbledore said, that infernal sparkle in his eyes hinting for mischief. "No, I have come here for another matter entirely."

"Do elaborate before the clock strikes midnight, Albus," Snape said wearily, "I'm simply not in the mood for one of your longwinded monologues."

Dumbledore sat down in one of Snape's more comfortable chairs. "Then let me get straight to the point," he said, "Maya and you seem to be having some issues and quite frankly, it's bringing the rest of the staff down."

Snape huffed, "I could hardly care less about the feelings of your staff, Albus," he said sardonically, "They are all adults. I'm sure they can get through these tragic times all by themselves."

"I would very much appreciate it if you would take this matter seriously," Dumbledore chided, "You said yourself that you wish to make this conversation brief. If only for that purpose, I suggest you cooperate."

"There's not much to say," Snape said softly, "She told me something personal. I reacted characteristically poor which she took badly of course, and now we're no longer on speaking terms."

Dumbledore frowned. "What did she tell you that made you withdraw into yourself so much?" he asked worriedly, "This isn't like you anymore."

"I would rather not divulge," Snape replied, "It's personal."

"And it's affecting everyone around you," Dumbledore said sternly, "Even Harry."

Snape winced visibly.

"Don't think I haven't noticed," Dumbledore said, "I had hoped that by now you would know not to allow your foolish pride to get in the way of any personal relationships."

Snape smiled grimly. "I will always be a Slytherin, it would seem," he said, sipping his tea.

"Severus," Dumbledore said, a warning evident in his voice. "Your personal matters are your own until you bring about negativity on the rest of us. I will always attempt to resolve any issues with patience and understanding but if you insist on making this difficult, I will be forced to move forward as I see fit."

Though he still spoke softly, Snape knew that Dumbledore was warning him. And all foolish pride aside, he knew very well that Dumbledore was not to be trifled with. He would rather face embarrassment than the man's wrath.

"She has seen fit to tell me that she's enamoured with me," Snape grudgingly admitted, "If you care to believe such things."

Even now, Dumbledore had the audacity to not look shocked. "I realise that it is often the curse of those involved to not realize the feelings one might have for the other but does this really come as a surprise?"

"I beg your pardon?" Snape asked.

"Her feelings for you have been clear to most of us for a while now," Dumbledore said, "In fact, I got the feeling that you were starting to like her as well."

"I won't deny that she has been humorous to have around," Snape said coldly, "But that is all it ever was."

Dumbledore regarded Snape for a while with a knowing look and smiled. "You too are worthy of love, Severus," he said kindly, "No matter what you might think."

"Albus," Snape sighed, "I can't."

Dumbledore sighed sadly. "Unfortunately, I am very much aware of your internal struggle," he said, "and I pray to whatever deities are out there that you may find salvation before it's too late."

"Surely, I know not of what you speak," Snape growled, "Cryptic old man."

"For now -" Dumbledore said, ignoring Snape's jibe. "- I want to impress upon you that our dear Maya meant every word of what she said and apparently you have treated her rather cruelly in return."

Snape nodded and had the decency to look ashamed as he stared at a spot on his carpet. Dumbledore placed a hand on Snape's and smiled kindly. "I know you will make this right."

"At once, headmaster," Snape agreed.

"Thank you, my boy," Dumbledore said, "I've always had the utmost faith in you."

Snape stalked fiercely through the corridors, his robes billowing behind him like the wings of a bat. "At once, headmaster," he grumbled as he mimicked himself sardonically. "Never mind that it's the middle of the night and it's highly unlikely that Maya will even still be up."

There had better not been any students out of bed after curfew for if Snape caught any, there would be hell to pay.

Finally, he found himself staring at the door that he knew led to Maya's private quarters and stared at it for a good long while. For some time, he wondered what he was going to say to her. He practised the sentences in his head. But how could he do that when the conversation could go every which way? That is, if she would even allow Snape to talk at all.

Growling at his own indecisiveness, he finally raised his fist and knocked loudly on the door. He was about to knock a second time when the door opened slightly to reveal Maya, peering at him from behind the crack. When she saw who it was, she opened the door some more and fixed Snape with a fierce stare. "Can I help you?" she asked icily.

"I have come here to express my apologies," Snape said evenly, "And I would very much like to explain my reaction if you would allow it."

Maya regarded him for a moment. "Severus, it's late," she said.

"I realize that," Snape said, "But I would rather not allow this animosity between us to continue a moment more. That said, if you would prefer to wait until morning, I would understand."

Maya sighed. "Come on in, then," she said, "When you put it like that, I can't very well refuse you, can I?"

Snape attempted a smile that he felt came out somewhat crooked and followed Maya inside. Her quarters looked very much like his own except for the fact that the walls did not consist of stone bricks but were even and dressed in a chocolate coloured wallpaper. The fire in the hearth had almost gone out and Snape suspected that Maya had been getting ready for bed. The night robe she was wearing was certainly an indication of that.

"Sit wherever," Maya said casually, "Would you like some tea?"

"Please," Snape accepted gracefully as he sat down in a blue velvet chair.

Maya conjured a pot of tea and two cups for the both of them, as well as a plate of biscuits and sat down across from Snape.

Snape noticed that – even though they were at odds with one another – Maya blushed when she glanced at him. In his mind, he was kicking himself for his horrible misconduct.

"I have treated you supremely poorly," Snape told Maya. The regret in his voice was genuine. "I truly thought that you were playing a nasty trick on me."

"I would never do such a thing," Maya told him.

"I realise that," Snape said solemnly, "I allowed my own misconceptions and distrust to get the better of me. It is not the conduct of a wise man and I am thoroughly ashamed of the way I acted."

"Is it that hard to believe that someone might be attracted to you?" Maya asked. Snape was relieved to see her relax into her chair, grabbing a biscuit as she leaned back.

"I have never been deemed desirable before," Snape told her plainly.

"Oh, I can't possibly believe that," Maya said, "My bet is that you simply scared any suitors away with your… er-"

"Charming personality?" Snape finished sardonically.

Maya giggled. "Yes," she said, "That."

"It is kind of you to say so, but there's no way of knowing," Snape said. "So you understand the reasoning behind my outburst however misplaced it was?"

"Indeed," Maya said, "And I forgive you."

Snape sighed in relief. "I am glad to hear it," he said, "Now if you'll excuse me –"

"Hold on," Maya said sternly.

Snape – who froze in the middle of rising from his seat – looked at her in confusion before sitting back down. "My apologies," he said, "I'm not sure what else you would wish to discuss and it's getting rather late."

"Don't you think I deserve an answer after all this?" Maya chided.

Snape blinked in confusion. "An answer?" he asked, "I don't recall you asking me a question."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Severus," Maya growled, "Let me say it again. I like you –"

Snape felt himself flush.

"- I really like you, despite your occasional outburst," Maya continued, "and I want to know if you feel the same way about me."

Snape frowned as he clasped his hands in front of him. He hadn't even given this part of the conversation any thought, assuming that it would no longer be relevant. Did he like Maya? Well, she was certainly an agreeable person to be around. But would he be able to think of her the same way he did of – No. He didn't think he could.

"I'm sorry, Maya," he told her after a moment of silence. "But I don't think I do right now."

Maya regarded him solemnly for a moment, then smiled. "For now, you say," she said mischievously, "I sense a chance there."

Snape chuckled softly. "Perhaps," he said, "one day. Now, I shall take my leave and allow you some rest."

"How kind of you," Maya told him, "Very well. Go on and get out of here."

She followed him to her door and opened it for him. Snape stepped out to leave when Maya grabbed his hand and turned him around.

"Just one more thing," she said softly. Before Snape fully realized what happened, Maya leaned forward, standing on her tippy toes and surprised Snape with a passionate kiss that lasted no longer than a few seconds. "That's payback for what you did before," she said, blushing fiercely. "Now we're even. See you tomorrow!"

Maya closed her door, leaving a befuddled Snape in the hallway. The feeling of her lips on his would linger for several more hours.

When Harry entered the great hall the next morning – flanked by Ron and Hermione – he went to sit in their usual spot. He was much less upset than before and was now thinking about what he could do to get Snape and Maya to make up when he looked at the high table. As he did, his mouth all but fell open in surprise.

Snape and Maya were sitting next to each other, conversing enthusiastically. Maya was brandishing a piece of toast as she told what was no doubt a fascinating tale until a piece broke off and landed in Snape's coffee. Instead of scowling he simply switched his cup with hers and then covered his new cup with a napkin.

"They look happy," Ron said when he noticed Harry staring. "I wonder what happened."

"You and me both," Harry murmured incredulously.

When Snape caught Harry staring, he looked at him remorsefully and wrote something on the cuff. Harry looked at his wrist when the piece of jewellery grew warmer.

'We need to talk.' It said.

"No kidding," Harry mumbled but he just nodded at Snape instead of writing a response.

'After class?' Came the new sentence and Harry nodded his approval once more.

"On speaking terms again?" Draco asked as he wiggled his way in-between Harry and the Gryffindor girl sitting next to him.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked innocently.

"Oh, don't pretend like there was nothing going on," Draco chided as he stole Harry's last crumpet. "When Snape is in a bad mood, us Slytherins suffer. And let me tell you: We suffered."

"And what makes you think his bad mood had anything to do with me?" Harry asked curiously.

"Ah, your friends are terrible at keeping their mouths shut," Draco said triumphantly. "Isn't that right, Granger?"

"Traitor," Harry chuckled, pointing an accusing croissant in Hermione's face.

"Doth thou threaten the fair lady?" Ron asked haughtily as he grabbed a croissant of his own. "Then I must challenge thee to a duel to the death."

"Thou standeth not a chance!" Harry exclaimed as he knocked the croissant out of Ron's hand with his own. "Thine blade is made from soiled oats while mine was made from tempered grains. Thou hath lost. Fair lady –" he now directed his attention to Hermione. "Thou art hereby claimeth."

Hermione took on a dramatic pose and spoke with a quivering voice: "Art thou truly my saviour? Or hath thou killed my love? I shall not stand by your side for thou art not mine, nor am I yours. Instead, here I shall lie, in the cold arms of my betrothed and remember a time long since past when he and I were gladsome together."

"Bloody hell, Hermione," Ron exclaimed, "That was brilliant."

"I must agree that that was rather lyrical," Draco said, slow-clapping softly for the girl. "Well improvised."

Snape shook his head at the scene unfolding at the Gryffindor table. "This is your fault, you know," he told Maya.

"How so?" Maya asked.

"Filling their heads with history," Snape huffed, "Back in my day, history class was so boring that not one student would repeat its contents outside of class. Now look at them!"

Snape gestured towards Draco who held a baguette underneath his arm, pretending to be stabbed to death.

"What can I say?" Maya said, "History, like love, is so apt to surround her heroes with an atmosphere of imaginary brightness. It has always attracted youngsters to its beauty."

When Harry reached Snape's quarters later that evening, he didn't dare simply come in. So instead, he politely knocked.

"Enter," he heard Snape say and so he did.

Snape sat waiting for him, a steaming pot of tea at the ready – because of course – accompanied by several slices of treacle tart. Harry looked suspiciously at his favourite treat as a crooked smile found its way to his lips.

"Have a seat, Harry," Snape urged. His voice was not harsh or demanding. It seemed to be careful and soothing. So Harry obeyed. Not that he would've childishly kept standing had he not liked the circumstances, mind you.

"I have quite a lot to tell you," Snape said, "And I'm not entirely sure what to say first."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out," Harry said, doing his best to sound teasing.

Apparently, it had worked because Snape relaxed somewhat and smiled. "As you say," he said, "Then let me begin by apologising. I should never have said what I said to you. Not only was it untrue but to use your history against you in such a manner was appalling."

Harry nodded. "I admit that it was very disconcerting," he said.

"I can imagine," Snape said, "I was angry because of recent events and didn't think before I spoke. I will make sure not to make that same mistake again."

"And if you do?" Harry asked, raising one eyebrow.

"If I do, I give you permission to curse me," Snape said solemnly, "No unforgivables, though."

Harry snorted. "Shame," he said, "But I suppose that I'll forgive you. As long as you promise to treat me to treacle tart more often."

Snape chuckled. "I can do that."

Harry relaxed somewhat and leaned back comfortably in his chair. "So, I've noticed you and Professor bell get along a lot better again," he said smartly, "Any developments I should be aware of?" The smirk on his face resembled that of a Cheshire cat.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, brat," Snape said sternly, "Nothing happened. I simply went to her chambers to apologise."

"To her chambers?" Harry repeated with a growing interest, "Why would you not simply go to her office?"

"It was late," Snape replied, "She had already retired for the night."

"How convenient," Harry teased; "And what did you do in her private chambers?"

Snape stared at Harry blankly. "Stop regarding me with that filthy teenage mind of yours," he said. "Nothing happened. We talked it over. I apologised. We agreed that a more intimate relationship is not going to happen and then we both went our separate ways."

Harry seemed almost disappointed with that bit of information. "Seriously?" he asked. "This very attractive, funny and intelligent woman takes an interest in you and you say no? Honestly, you must have some pretty high standards."

Snape smiled sadly. "That I do," he said, then quickly tried to change the subject. "Now, if you would please tell me about the last experiment you did with the potion? Professor Slughorn told me all about it but his lack of insight into Occlumency rendered some parts of his explanation somewhat incoherent."

"Well, it was all a lot more focused," Harry said, eager to steer away from the uncomfortable subject himself. "I was able to see just one spirit instead of a whole army. But her touch was still chilly – I'm not sure if I can fix that – and I could still not hear her."

"Who did you see?" Snape inquired.

Harry glanced up at Snape guiltily as he remembered what he had told the man during their fight. "I saw mum," he said, "and she was rather cross with me even though I couldn't hear her."

Snape chuckled fondly. "That does sound like her," he said. "It sounds like you're very close to a breakthrough."

"I think so," Harry said. "Now I just need to figure out what to change. What about all of this isn't powerful enough? The potion seemed to like everything I offered it…"

Snape quirked an eyebrow. "You're talking about it as if it were sentient," he said.

"In a way, it is," Harry said. "Not sentient like you or me or even Hedwig but it feels as if it acts on instinct. Or perhaps reacts on instinct."

"Then I suggest you re-evaluate your offerings," Snape grinned, "Can't have the Umbral Locum be displeased, now can we?"

Harry knew that Snape was joking but at the mention of the word 'offerings', a cold chill crept down his spine.

"Oh no," he groaned. His legs felt like they were made of jelly and if he hadn't been sitting down, he was sure that he would have crumbled. The blood had drained from his face.

"Is something wrong?" Snape asked.

Harry heard the voice but didn't register its meaning as he stared at his folded hands, thinking of the consequences of his discovery.

"Harry," Snape prompted again.

"I know what's wrong with it," Harry explained. "I know why it's not working. You're right. My offering wasn't good enough."

"What are you talking about?"

"It's blood," Harry then said. "The potion needs blood."

Snape regarded Harry in a calculating manner. "If that is the case," he said softly, "Does that bother you?"

"What?" Harry asked, chuckling grimly, "That the potion I created is going to end up being dark magic?"

Snape clicked his tongue in annoyance. "It is not wise to jump to that conclusion, merely because one of the ingredients ends up being blood. Does the potion feel dark to you?"

"I don't think so," Harry said decidedly. "I think it's a matter of balance. This potion works so well with innate magic. If you hadn't taught it to me, I don't think I could've ever gotten this far, really. And I'm starting to think that a sufficient amount of blood might bring the whole concoction into harmony. I know it sounds a bit strange," Harry chuckled when he felt a sudden kinship with Luna, "but I really think this is good. Not bad."

Once more, Snape regarded Harry carefully and then smiled. "If only I had realised just what a knack you have for potions during your first years," he said. "That natural raw talent of yours combined with your inherent understanding of the flow of things is a mixture to be reckoned with."

Harry chuckled. "I learned from the best though, didn't I?" he said.

"From whom?" Snape teased. "Professor Slughorn?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "You really want me to come out and say it, don't you?"

"Oh, how that would please me," Snape said evenly.

"Fine," Harry said evenly. "You're the best."

"What's that?" Snape asked silkily. "I'm afraid I didn't quite catch that."

"You're the best Potions Master," Harry admitted annoyedly.

Snape ruffled Harry's hair and grinned. "And don't you forget it, brat," he said fondly.

Well, not hope you were hoping this could go I'd wager? Don't worry. Not all is lost! Please leave me a review if you can. It's always appreciated.