Chapter Text
It was one of those rare days that the sun was out. Students had taken to lying out on the grass by the Great Lake to soak up the fleeting warmth. You couldn’t wait to head into the greenhouses for the day to do some planting. Melissa, as if sensing your excitement, glances at you, “you better take some food with you. Rowena knows that once you start your gardening, you’ll never stop.”
“Sometimes I wonder if you should have been sorted into Hufflepuff,” Jade said, mouth full of food.
Bertram tutted at Jade’s manners.
“How many times do I have to tell you–chew with your mouth closed?” He chastised as he wrapped a few bread rolls in a napkin.
“Clearly not enough,” Jade fired back, the mush that was food sloshed around in her mouth.
You smiled at Bertram as he passed you the napkins–he really was the mother hen of our group.
Melissa spoke again, reaching for the stack of books she had brought from the library. “We’ll be out on the lawn anyway, getting that Potions essay done.”
“Don’t expect us to walk you to the greenhouse,” Jade adds.
You snort at them, rising from your seat “Don’t worry about me, I’m perfectly capable of walking on my own.”
Bertram’s eyebrows don’t lose their furrow, “I’ll walk with you,” he says quietly, “with all those blood purist freaks around, we can’t be too careful.”
You don’t say anything in response to that. Bertram probably knew that most of those blood purist families would leave you alone–on account of you being pureblood yourself–but he would worry about you anyway, being the sensitive soul that he was.
You link arms with him, and wave goodbye to Melissa and Jade. As you both walk, you talk about anything and everything, except maybe James Potter – who was currently an off-limits topic, for good reason. Thinking about him and what happened made your blood boil.
You reach greenhouse number two, which Professor Beery kept aside for you and some of the other advanced Herbology students to use. The creeping vines that wound up the glass had pink buds. Inside the raised garden beds held a variety of flowers – dittany, fluxweed and knotgrass. A large, sturdy Wiggentree stood in the very centre of the green house, a comforting presence in these dark times. And in the tree’s shade, were vases of gillyweed, which you had been cultivating since fourth-year.
Sighing in contentment, you swing open the doors of the greenhouse, only to be greeted by an unexpected sight.
Black and Potter, pointing their wands at Snape, smiles leering. While Snape was clearly cornered, he exuded a confidence that seemed to suggest he was winning the fight. You felt Bertram shrink at the sight of Potter, which broke your heart. Bertram was always the most confident and outgoing person you know, and since Potter and Sirius had hexed him–with an illegal curse nonetheless–he had been anything but.
“You should go,” you whisper to him, patting his arm, “I’ll be fine.”
Bertram reluctantly pulls his arm from yours and glances down at you.
A shout from Potter, makes him flinch, and he quickly heads off.
The smile dropped from your face as soon as Bertram was out of sight. You slowly turn to the duelling boys.
James, who was now hanging from the tree on one foot thanks to Snape, was shooting spells at him and somehow managing to miss each time. With a laugh, Sirius fired a hex at Snape, who deflected it with a wave of his hand, the rebound setting a bush of dittany ablaze. And while you were radiating fury at the plant destruction, you couldn’t help but be impressed by Snape’s wandless magic.
You take a deep breath.
“OI, YOU BLOODY TROLLS,” you bellow.
All three of them falter, heads whipping to where you stand.
“Get out of my greenhouse,” You say with heat.
“I’m pretty sure this is Hogwarts property, Sastry” Black grins, “Can’t belong to you legally and all that.”
You say nothing, pointing a wand at them and smirking as the Gryffindors flinch, not realising you were simply extinguishing the dittany.
“Well then,” you glare at them, “The three of you can be expelled for damaging school property, ‘legally and all that’.”
Snape sneered at the boys, “Good riddance.”
And the duel started back up again, because apparently Gryffindors were trigger-happy.
“For Rowena’s sake!” you mutter, and only Snape seemed to hear you, his dark eyes meeting yours for a split second.
Potter took advantage of Snape's momentary distraction, freeing himself from Snape’s levitation spell and crushing the glass vases that held your gillyweed. You let out a strangled cry. A year's worth of work, destroyed by stupid Potter.
Potter’s back was cut up and bleeding and you morbidly thought to yourself that he deserved it.
Black took the moment to throw a stinging hex Snape’s way, and lifted his brother-in-crime off the mangled gillyweed and out of the greenhouse.
You let out a string of curse words rushing to your gillyweed, reparo-ing the vases and assessing the damage. Some of the gillyweed was salvageable, but the rest had been squashed considerably. You sigh. So much for a day of content gardening. You made quick work placing the gillyweed back into the newly fixed vases.
A throat clears from behind you. Snape stood there still, although you weren’t quite sure why. It struck you in this moment how handsome he was despite the garishly red rash on his face and skin. He was not like Potter or Black who’s sharp jaws and rugged charm captured the hearts of both boys and girls alike. But the softness of his features and his doe-like eyes suggested a quiet sort of beauty. His voice, gentle–gentler than you had ever heard it–startled you out of your thoughts.
“Gillyweed is hard to grow.”
He was met with silence as you observed him unabashedly, back turned against your plants.
“I’d offer you some dittany,” you finally said, “But you and Black burned most of it.”
A ghost of a smile on his lips was the only sign of his amusement.
He turned around, robe swishing dramatically.
“I’ll see you around, Sastry.”
***
Naturally, all your friends knew what had happened. Well, except for the part where you had ogled over Snape – a known Death Eater wannabe and blood purist.
“Potter and Black need someone to jinx the heck out of them,” Melissa complains as she stirred her potion.
“I volunteer.” Jade muttered, deftly chopping up the rat tail.
“They’ve been incredibly irresponsible,” Bertram admitted, “I don’t know what I ever saw in him.”
The three of you share a knowing glance. This was the first time Bertram had talked about Black since he and Potter had jinxed him.
“I don’t think either of them have ever been responsible,” you say, “that's like, their whole thing.”
Bertram hums in agreement, adding mint to your cauldron.
“Anyway, I was planning on getting my payback anyway.”
“Snape better be included in that payback,” Melissa said darkly, “he was there too.”
You nod absentmindedly, as you dice up a toadstool, trying your hardest not to remember the way Snape looked when he smiled.
You glance up, meeting eyes with Snape who held your gaze unflinchingly. It was almost as if he knew you were talking about him. You hurriedly looked away, turning your attention back to your cauldron as you added the toadstool.
You allowed yourself to peek back at him. He was no longer looking at you, chatting to Malfoy as he poured some of their finished potion into their vial. He hadn’t heard your friends, but why was your heart racing then, if not for anxiety?
You let Bertram take over the rest of the potion, your mind drifting to revenge. What to do? A simple hair changing jinx wouldn’t cut it. It had to be something more dramatic and equally as embarrassing.
Grinning suddenly, you jot something down in your notebook.
Bertram eyes you suspiciously, “you’ve got that look on your face, Sastry, the one that spells trouble.”
“As long as you don’t get caught,” Jade grins from over the table.
You grin back at her, “Don’t worry Cornell, I won’t.”
***
There was a rumour going around that Black and Potter had been turned into frog-like creatures, almost as if they had drunk a polyjuice potion gone wrong. They had apparently refused to come down for breakfast in the morning out of sheer embarrassment, and people had been speculating that another one of their pranks had backfired.
The moment your friends had heard what had happened, they knew it was true.
“What did you do?” hissed Bertram.
Although, you knew he was secretly enjoying their public embarrassment.
“Don’t know what you mean, Aubery” you said as you turned another page in your book.
“Well, Sally said she saw them waddling down the hallway to transfiguration,” Melissa said, “she thought it was hysterical.”
“Really?” you muttered, “thought it was a rumour.”
You would certainly have been more believable if you hadn’t been smirking.
“Well,” Jade said, patting your hand, “I taught you well”
She wipes fake tears from her eyes.
You scrunch your face up trying not to laugh at her, when you hear a throat clearing behind you.
“Sastry–”
You recognise Snape’s voice almost immediately.
“A word please.”
You turn around, schooling your face into an unreadable expression. You can clearly see the results of your handiwork. It’s not as bad as what you did to Potter and Black, but his hands are webbed, and so are his feet–although it’s hard to tell with him wearing shoes–and his face is dotted with iridescent purple and green scales.
Snape glances at your friends then back to you, raising a brow.
“Alright,” you concede as you stand.
“Don’t wait up for me,” you tell Melissa and the others, who watch you gather your things with clear amusement.
You follow Snape to an empty corner of the library, and he gestures for you to sit.
You both stare at each other for a moment.
“Admiring your handiwork?” he says.
“I’m not sure what you mean by that,” you retort.
“I admit the fins are annoying, but I could get used to the scales,” he says, eyes glinting. If you hadn’t seen his lips slightly curved, you would have thought him angry.
You play along, “It suits you. But I think I prefer you without the scales.”
He raises his brows, eyes wide. Then he clears his throat before speaking again.
“How did you do it? And don’t try to lie to me, I know it was you.”
“Where’s your proof?” you grumble.
He leans close to you, “How. Did. You. Do. It?”
You lean towards him, so close your noses almost touch. You can smell him – old leather, musty potions and the grass of Hogwarts grounds which he must have been lying on.
“Not. Telling.”
You rise to your feet abruptly, and you begin to head off before turning back to face him.
“Oh, and it should wear off in a few hours.”
You feel the weight of his eyes on your back as you hurry to the safety of your dorm. You try hard not to think about his dark eyes, and they way they were piercing your soul just moments ago.
***
You had taken to avoiding Severus as much as possible. This was a near impossible task considering the fact that he insisted on following you around to ask ‘how you had done it’. And although your friends noticed–how could they not, you literally used them as human shields everytime he walked past or tried to speak to you–they had simply chalked it up to you being annoyed at his insistence.
They would never have guessed the inner turmoil you felt every time you saw Severus’ stupidly handsome face. Or the way your stomach churned every time you saw him with his stupid Death Eater friends. Or how your heart clenched when you saw the way he looked at Evans, a quiet fondness in his eyes as his lips curved into that ghost of a smile.
You drop your head into your hands, groaning.
“Surely I can’t have irritated you yet, Sastry.”
You don't lift your head up.
“Hurry up and ask your questions Snape, so I can tell you to piss off.”
When you don’t hear an answer back, you finally lift your head out of the safety of your palms.
Severus had dropped into the seat next to you, and was looking at Bertram. You bristled up, readying yourself to say something.
But all he asked was, “Do you mind if I’m Sastry’s potions partner for today?”
Bertram laughed, “you’ll have a handful with that one, a bloody useless potioneer they are.”
“Are they now?” you heard Severus ask.
“You can keep them forever,” Bertram winked, “as a potions partner, I mean.”
You felt your face heat up in embarrassment, as you glowered at your friend. Bloody traitor .
***
Severus was a brilliant potions partner, though you hated to admit it. He was a fast and efficient worker, handling the ashwinder eggs and dissecting the roses with ease. He had entrusted you with measuring the already powdered peppermint, moonstone and pearl dust, which he added into the cauldron along with the other ingredients. You sat on the bench watching him stir the potion until it had turned a pinkish pearly colour, and then pour into a vial.
He silently passed it to you to give to the professor.
Professor Slughorn was at the front of the classroom talking about the properties of Amortentia.
“Ah, thank you Sastry.” He said as you handed him the vial.
He continued speaking to the class.
“This is an example of a perfect Amortentia. Notice the mother-of-pearl sheen to it–” he then uncorked the vial, “And the spiralling steam. Sastry, would you tell us what you smell.”
“Um, old leather,” You inhale again, “the Hogwarts’ grounds… and… ink?”
“Leather, grass and ink,” Slughorn repeats, “And that’s what the person you're in love with smells like. A correctly brewed Amortentia will smell unique to each individual, and like whoever you’re in love with. Thank you dear, have a seat.”
You head back to your seat, head throbbing at your newest revelation. You had lied. While the whiff of ink had been faint, the musty scent of potions was far more overpowering. It brought back the memory of you and Snape nose to nose in the library. You sighed as you sat down, realising you were quite royally fucked. You were in love–and since when had it become love–with a man who loved someone else.
Severus, was deep in thought beside you.
“I didn’t know you were in love, Sastry.” he fixed his eyes onto yours, face unreadable.
You sighed heavily, your eyes never leaving his.
“Me neither, Snape.”
***
It was long past curfew, but your mind would not let you sleep. Your fingers itched to garden, to get your mind off things. It was why you were currently sneaking past a pair of prefects, which was easy as they were too preoccupied with snogging each other. Your steps fell into a comfortable rhythm, as you walked the familiar path to greenhouse number two.
You opened the doors, slowly, so it would creak as little as possible.
The greenhouse was as beautiful in the night as it was during the day. The pink buds on the vines had blossomed into pearlescent flowers in the moonlight. While beautiful, they made you think of the pearly pink potion from the afternoon, which in turn made you think of Severus, which was exactly who you were trying to forget.
You quickly turn away, pulling on your gardening gloves. You hummed a tune as you picked up a small spade and began digging out the burnt dittany. You moved it to the composting bin, at least the charcoal in the dittany would make fertile soil for other plants. Then you fished in the basket where Professor Beery kept all the seeds, for a packet that read dittany. Finding it you turned to move back to the now empty garden bed, only to bump into someone.
You let out a shriek in your surprise, wielding your spade as a weapon towards the intruder.
“Shh, it’s only me.”
You could recognise that voice anywhere.
“Snape?!” you hissed, “What are you doing here?”
He remained silent.
Scoffing lightly, you push past him and get to work in the garden bed. You make quick work, planting each seed with enough space to account for its growth. Then patting soil over them with your gloved hands.
Even in the dark, you could feel Severus’ eyes heavy on you.
“I never apologised did I?” He muttered, “for the dittany or the gillyweed.”
It was your turn to remain silent.
“I’m sorry.”
You pulled off your gloves and picked up your wand, muttering augumenti beneath your breath to water the newly planted seeds.
“Why are you here?” You finally ask.
Severus hesitates, then steps closer to you.
“I figured it out,” he murmured, “the spell you used. It was ingenious.”
You couldn’t help the smile that tugged your lips. But it was quickly smothered by your thoughts. Was that it then? Would everything go back to the way it was? Was that even what you wanted?
A soft call of your name had you looking up.
You hadn’t realised how close the both of you were to each other. The tips of your shoes kissing each other.
Moonlight lit Severus’ features softly aglow. You couldn’t help but think that he looked ethereal like this, and that Lily Evans was incredibly lucky to have him pining for her. What really took your breath away was the way he looked at you from beneath his lashes. There was a hunger and yearning hidden in those pits of blackness.
He raised a hand to your face, as if to touch you, then dropped it back to his side.
“I figured it out weeks ago. But I was too scared to say anything.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion.
“Why?”
Severus broke his eye contact with you, looking away in frustration.
“I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart?”
Your eyes narrowed at him.
“I can’t read your mind Sev!” you exclaim, no longer caring if the both of you got caught.
Severus stared at you, his mouth curving in that smile of his.
“Do you want to know what I smelt in that potion?” He asked quietly.
You looked up at him in curiosity.
“Ink, library books, and this greenhouse.”
You felt him reach for your hand, as your eyes widened in realisation. You looked down at your intertwined hands, a warm feeling spreading through your chest.
Reaching up with your other hand, you tugged his face to yours until your noses almost touched. His long hair brushed against your cheek, and you looked up into those dark, beautiful eyes of his. Yor pressed your lips against his. You felt him gasp against you, before he grasped at your waist and deepened the kiss. When both of you parted, it was only because you might have died from lack of air. Even then, it would have been a happy death.
“You know, I lied to Slughorn.”
Severus smirked, “It was fairly obvious.”
You huffed at him, and he raised his hand to your face, his thumb gently rubbing the swell of your cheek.
“It was potions, not ink.”
A pause.
You glanced up at him from beneath your lashes, “I thought you were in love with Evans this whole time.”
You see genuine surprise flit across Severus’ face, as he chuckles.
“Is that why I caught you staring mournfully at Lily?”
At your unsure nod, he laughs again. His head drops to the crook of your shoulder, nuzzling into you.
“Lily’s like a sister to me,” his breath is hot against your skin, “we’ve known each other since we were children.”
“That’s good,” you murmur as you run your fingers through his hair, “I was worried I’d have competition.”
He sighs, placing a kiss on your neck. “Never.”