“And say the four muggle born students, eh, uh, apprentices —” the Minister of Magic stated, apprehension laced in his throat.
“Are in capable hands, Minister.” Dumbledore spoke, hands placed behind his back; calculating and steadfast.
The four included you and three of your long time friends; Hogwarts letters mishandled in the first war led to this moment, the moment the foursome became apprentices to the professors instead of going through the proper channels of curriculum — due to age.
“The young adults are more than capable of learning, as well as assisting the staff at Hogwarts. They are in capable hands that will shape their abilities. Lest I remind you we have some very adept wizards on staff, Severus Snape is just one of many, Minister.” Dumbledore swore he saw a vein in the Minister’s head about explode, a thick neck filled down water; quench the fire, the rage.
“Very well, Albus. However.. we will keep watch of your — faculty.” He said as he matched a glare to Dumbledore, who stood in front of the Wizengamot, impassively.
It had been just over six months since the letters bombarded you and three months since you came to be the apprentice, or rather, assistant to the Potions Master, Severus Snape.
The moment you had stepped forward into the Headmasters office and locked eyes with Severus you knew he was a haunted man. He was silent at first, his emotions like a bubbling cauldron. You had seen how he handled his classes on the second day you were there. He led them as if he were a commander in a war, one twitch of his lips or calculated movement of his eyes and silence would befall the room.
It was captivating and worrisome in the same go.
Your friends had all been assigned to professors after being sorted into the respective houses, you found yourself in Slytherin while the other were matched to Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.
Snape seemed to not have any response to your sorting except he had the slightest snarl to his lips, you took it as he was pleased — as pleased as the man could get.
“Ms. Y/L/N, pass me the powdered Elderflower.” Professor Snape called over to you, you were reading the Daily Prophet, a story of a hotel collapse in Milan, still mesmerized by the moving images on the paper.
You grabbed what you thought was the powdered Elderflower. A simple passing, a tiny mistake.
The room filled with gas within seconds, you had seemingly hit the stone floor first as the scene had been reinvented for you in the hospital wing by Dumbledore and Poppy when you returned from unconsciousness.
Severus had managed to crawl over to you and drag you a few feet, his wand gripped in his hand; knuckles white as he casted a spell that loudly broke every window in the classroom, letting fresh air encapsulate the two of you before he succumbed to the same ailment as the woman in his arms.
“Professor Dumbledore… I..” you began before having a spell of a coughing fit.
Dumbledore swept his hand in the air.
”No need, Ms. Y/N. It was an accident and Professor Snape nor any of the staff hold you in contempt. Windows can be replaced, people cannot.” He said with a soft smile before nodding over to Poppy.
“I must go and talk to Argus about the windows, get rest, dear girl.” He said before turning on his heel.
“Professor, how is he? Professor Snape?” You called out to Dumbledore.
“Why don’t you ask the man himself.” He called back just shortly before the curtain separating you from the other side of the wing was pulled back with a swift maneuver revealing Professor Snape in the bed directly beside you.
You paled averting your eyes from embarrassment; he always could make you uneasy with his glare.
“I apologize Professor, I was careless, not paying attention.” You said softly mustering the courage to look his way.
He looked tired, a breathing spell casted over him in the form of a air bubble it seemed. He was in no way hindered by it.
“Do not apologize, it was a mistake — a mistake that should not happen again, am I clear?” He hissed the latter of the sentence as pain courses through him as he readjusted his posture in the narrow bed.
“It will not happen again, yes.” You said, watching his movements. Even in pain Snape’s movements were calculated. Every step, every word spoken seemed just as calculated as the next from him — it left you looking for more.
“Yes?” He called breaking your train of thought.
You felt the apples of your cheeks heat. Silly girl.
However long you were going to be in Severus Snape’s presence was hard to tell but from what you could fathom… it was going to be quite the experience.
