Forbidden Flames

Chapter 4

As Hermione rose from her seat, her injured leg made its presence known, causing her to wince in discomfort. Observing her struggle, Snape reluctantly moved closer, offering his support and guiding her towards the desk. With each step, she could feel the tight bandage encasing her wounded leg, a reminder of her unfortunate mishap. Leaning on the arm of her former teacher, she couldn't help but notice the proximity of their bodies, the faint brush of his breath against her cheek, a sensation that elicited a subtle sense of awkwardness tinged with an unfamiliar intimacy.

The table before Hermione exuded an air of impeccable orderliness, as though every object meticulously placed upon it had found its designated spot. Memories of Snape's office at Hogwarts flooded her mind, where she had witnessed the precise alignment of jars and bottles, each neatly arranged in even rows. The same meticulousness extended to his pantry, an organized realm that mirrored the tidiness of his workspace. As she settled onto a small stool, her body bent forward, her focus honed on the task at hand.

With deliberate strokes of her quill, Hermione's thoughts flowed onto the parchment, forming a heartfelt message addressed to her dear friend Victor.

"Dear Vic! I'm sorry I ruined your vacation. It seems that our vacation together did not work out. I went through the wrong magical portal, ended up in some forest and also injured my leg. Don't worry, I'm being looked after now and won't let me freeze from cold and starve to death. Bound by a magical promise, I cannot tell you where and with whom I am now. But I assure you that I am completely safe. I will write to you sometimes. Wait for me in two weeks."

Unbeknownst to Hermione, Snape observed her every move, silently observing as she poured her thoughts onto paper. Her relaxed demeanor betrayed her unawareness of his presence behind her. It felt peculiar for him to witness her handwriting once again, a script that had graced countless essays in the past. However, this time was different. Instead of laboring over a lengthy forty-inch treatise on the diverse applications of Bubotuber pus, she composed a concise note that conveyed a genuine sentiment, reflective of their unique circumstances.

As Hermione turned, the note clutched delicately in her hands, a slow realization washed over her like a sudden wave crashing against the shore. Startled, she wondered how long he had been standing there, observing her every thought. A brief moment of vulnerability flickered in her eyes as they met his intense gaze. He loomed above her, a towering figure that had often invoked fear, yet now she sensed an air of superiority emanating from him.

Snape's sharp voice pierced the air, his question demanding her attention. She felt a tinge of uncertainty ripple through her, momentarily unsettling her thoughts. With a hesitant nod, she replied, "Yes," her voice carrying a hint of trepidation.

In a swift and almost predatory manner, Snape seized the parchment from her grasp, snatching it away with a sense of urgency. He swiftly strode towards the door, a gust of icy wind intruding into the warmth of the hut as he swung it open. Hermione couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for inconveniencing him, disrupting the solitude he seemed to cherish. Regret lingered within her as the cold air swept through the space she had momentarily disturbed.

Making his way to the small outbuilding where his owl found shelter, Snape trudged through the thickening snow with a mounting sense of frustration. The forest seemed to bristle with anticipation, hinting at an impending snowstorm that threatened to engulf the surroundings. He silently prayed that his loyal avian companion would take flight and traverse the mountains before the weather worsened. As the owl gracefully soared into the gray expanse, emitting an annoyed hoot, Snape turned his attention back to the house, his mind struggling to conceive a plan to address the unforeseen predicament. However, the well of ideas ran dry, leaving him with a disconcerting void.