𝐔𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥

You are scared

A sting of desperation made its way into Blanche's chest. It was October 30th, 6 pm; the Barrier's design was almost ready, but she could feel that something was missing. It was deeply flawed. But how? Where?

After canceling that week's lessons, she had spent an indecent amount of hours sitting at her desk to work on the Barrier's setup; aside from several intrusions on Minerva's part, she had been entirely alone. Ultimately, she was quite happy with that: anxiety never made her amiable, nor did it make her want to have people around. Her seclusion, however, was starting to take a toll on her. Her mood was awful, as a series of objects dispersed on the floor testified: her books and personal effects were left astray where she had occasionally thrown them, whether in a state of frustration or pure, unadulterated rage. Since she hadn't left the room if not to get something to eat - directly from the kitchens so as to avoid everyone she could - the house elves hadn't managed to clean the mess.

She stretched, looking around, and her eyes laid on something she hadn't noticed before. A small envelope had been slid under the door. Blanche, as she picked it up from the floor, immediately recognized the minute handwriting spelling her name at the top of the sheet. Her heart dropped.

Her name had been oddly written, as if an "L" had been bent into a "B", interrupting the smooth flow of Severus' penmanship. He had hesitated on how to address her. The man really was an overthinking mess.

"B̷lanche,

It is my understanding that the ordinary waking hours are a matter of mere opinion to you. Regardless, we must confer urgently, as it has come to my attention that there are a few elements we may not have assessed to an adequate extent. Feel free to visit at your earliest convenience.

Severus"

The formal, but sarcastic tone of the note wasn't lost on her: as she read it again, she could hear the echo of his deep, low voice articulating each syllable with studied irony. She nearly chuckled at the thought of him wavering before writing. It felt somehow familiar, almost soothing.

Blanche was comforted by knowing that he had been laboring, too. Her inability to find an undoubtedly present flaw was temporary, yet numbingly frustrating. Despite his unapproachable nature, he was an expert in the Dark Arts as she was, if not more; after all, she had inherited her teaching position from him, who stepped down and back to Potions only to detach himself from its cursed history. For that reason, in spite of how much she felt frustrated by his presence, she esteemed his mastery enough to rely on his judgment. If he found something to be wrong, it probably was; and, since she was stuck, his help was more than welcome.

She felt nervous at the idea of meeting him again after the events of that night; she had successfully dodged Severus for the past week, but at this point, it was vital to consult with him.

He had passed by while she had fallen asleep, evidently, but he had politely left, instead of stepping into the room as she had done instead. Blanche felt a little embarrassed while comparing their manners. Severus was insufferable in person, of course, but she undeniably admired his decency when it came to etiquette. On paper, Severus behaved like a gentleman... until he opened his mouth. His contemptuous, sarcastic tone was excruciating. Unbearable, really: a quick insolence that could upset anyone with scarcely less than an infinite amount of patience.

Yet, his writing betrayed an overthinking temperament that was, indeed, useful to an academic such as himself, but still tremendously detrimental to his unsurprisingly poor communication methods.

With a sigh, she gathered her notes and headed out, hoping not to cross anyone's path - especially Minerva's. The woman was restless and she made sure of letting them know of her understandable concern. Blanche hadn't informed her of the intrusions that had already occurred: the last thing she needed was to alarm her, since her firm nature wouldn't stop her from furtherly putting pressure on them. The mere thought made Blanche shiver.