Chapter 11 - Home For The Holidays

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The two week Christmas holiday away from Hogwarts was passing as slowly as the icicles melting on the window ledge outside the Azur's London home. It was 9:30am during the second week and Geneva was snug under the duvet with her small West Highland Terrier, Bracken at the foot of her bed, who hopped up and immediately shoved his wet nose in his face when he heard her stirring.

"You've been here all night, haven't you?" she smiled, sitting up in bed and rubbing Bracken around the ears, as last night's events came flooding back to her. Bracken could always sense whenever Geneva was upset. He had always been there for her. The Azur's had originally welcomed him to the family as company for Geneva who was struggling with social anxiety at school, and as only child, he played his part as the faithful friend she could always depend on.

There was that cough again coming from downstairs - her father's horse hacking, which left him wheezing and red in the face. Geneva's mother had sat by her bedside the night before having words with her daughter at how worried she was for her father's decline in health and the anger she felt toward him for it, as it was mostly down to continuously smoking cigarettes and cigars for years.

"The doctor's order was there five years before now, Gen, and did he quit? Did he listen...No he did not, and now look where he is. He can barely breathe. I don't know how I'll cope in January when he gets his results. Heaven forbid it's..." Her face began to contort into a sob as tears fell. "Well I don't even want to say the word."

Geneva wrapped her arms around her mother. She didn't have to say it. She knew. "I hope not too mum. Let's not think about it anymore. It's Christmas. We need to stay positive."

"You're right my darling," she sniffed, taking a tissue from her sleeve pocket and cleaning herself up. "Come on, let's get you up now and take Bracken for a walk."

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Christmas Day came and extended family arrived. Amidst the glittering lights, fuzzy Christmas jumpers and turkey, it was lovely to catch up with everyone.

"And how's that school you're attending?" Asked Uncle Fabritz, sipping his sherry wearing a golden cracker hat, balanced on the last few bits of hair he had. "Hogwarts isn't it? Best Wizarding School in the country."

"It's a great school," Geneva smiled. "Everything's going well thank you, Uncle. I made seeker this year."

"Oh what excellent news! Did you hear that Gisel...Geneva made seeker!"

"Oh well done!" her aunt cheered. She really was wearing the most ghastly Christmas jumper, but Geneva loved her for it.

She thought of Professor Snape how he'd helped the recovery of her serious injury from the bludger during try-outs, but decided to keep that information to herself. Geneva hadn't been able to stop thinking about him the entire time she had been away. After the conversation between her and Uncle Fabritz faded out and he caught up with other family members, Geneva left the sofa to go and gather dishes and glasses scattered around – any excuse to go to the kitchen, just to be alone with her thoughts. A delicious looking chocolate frosted cake sat on the side waiting to be served. She picked up a knife and cut a slice for herself, placing it on a plate, then rested against the counter top, staring at the fridge magnets, one of which was a family photo.

I wonder where Professor Snape is today, she thought, digging her fork into the soft sponge. Perhaps he's with family. It was strange; for reasons unknown, Geneva couldn't quite imagine him with family or friends. He seemed such a secluded soul. Perhaps he's still at Hogwarts, she thought. She visualised him reading a book in a dark space of the castle, lit by torches perhaps in the library. Maybe he purchased the book in Hogsmeade. It all seemed like another dimension, standing there in her modernised family home. Geneva hoped more than anything that he wasn't lonely. I wonder if he liked his present. She smiled thinking of his eventual acceptance of the small wrapped bundle, but felt equally sad when she recalled him saying that he wasn't accustomed to such things. She also felt frustration that he hadn't acknowledged their encounter when she brought it up. He obviously knew it was wrong and had tried to forget it ever happened. And what did he mean when he said the holidays weren't easy for him?

Just then, as she put another forkful of cake into her mouth, her mother came in. A surprised look about her face, dancing mischievously.

"So that's what you're doing," she smirked. "Aren't you going to offer slices to the others?"

"Of course. It just looked so good, I had to eat a piece now," Geneva chuckled, clanking the plate into the sink and gathering more down from the cupboard.

"You're all by yourself in here. Is something wrong?" Mrs Azur asked, boiling the kettle and reaching for the mugs.

"No, I'm fine, why?" Geneva asked, looking over her shoulder, then placing the plates down on the counter top.

"You've been having a lot of deep thoughts lately. Are you..." she dropped her head slightly and whispered, "Having any visions about your father?"

"I haven't had any. I thought I would have."

Mrs Azur frowned in thought.

"That is strange. Maybe you ought to see that Professor of yours about it."

Her heart thudded before she realised.

"Ohh. Trelawney. Yeah."

"I thought you might be able to have some insight on things about your father. You will let me know, won't you?" Mrs Azur asked, spooning sugars into spotted teacups. "...if you see anything."

"You know I will. I always do."

"That's my girl," she smiled warmly. "Now, you cut the cake and I'll finish making the tea."

Christmas ended with laughter and games as tradition before falling into a deep food coma, cozied in front of the TV with Bracken. Even he had a pot belly.

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After two weeks at home, Geneva boarded the Hogwarts Express at Platform 9 and ¾ s and was soon steaming down the rickety track toward her school for the new term.

A New Year and new term at Hogwarts was welcomed with well wishes from Professor Dumbledore, who stood regally at the golden owl shaped podium in front of the staff table in The Great Hall. Geneva had her eyes fixed on the man she hadn't been able to take her mind off for two weeks – Professor Snape. His black-robed stature was a sight for sore eyes, as poised and focussed as ever. Potions couldn't come quick enough.

"On behalf of myself and those who make Hogwarts a wonderful place to watch and encourage young minds to thrive," Dumbledore spoke, pushing his half mooned spectacles a little higher. "...We wish you all an exceptional year ahead, full of good health, prosperity, ambition and of course..." he smiled, lowering his head so that his specs slipped again. "Excellent Quidditch sportsmanship."

A cheer erupted from the students; the Gryffindor table in particular. He had to raise his voice for the next part. "Please join me in raising your goblets to toast the New Year."

Geneva took her Slytherin emblazoned goblet in unison with her fellow house members and raised it to shoulder level with a smile.

Dumbledore's cheery voice bounced off the stone walls, meeting the student's ears ceremoniously. "Happy New Year!"

"Happy New Year!" everyone cheered. Geneva was watching Professor Snape the whole time. As she took a sip from her goblet, so did he. Their eyes connected. In but a brief second, her heart swelled twice the size.

Oh how she'd missed him, even though he frustrated the hell out of her.

Breakfast that morning was louder than usual – excited chit-chat and holiday news reverberated off the stone walls of the Great Hall as students caught up with their friends. Orah had plenty to say to Geneva about how she had spent the new year with Billy and how many times they had got close.

"So we're pretty serious," she confirmed, biting into another slice of buttery toast, and looking down the table to search for him. He was sat a few feet away with a group of Slytherin boys.

"Isn't he close with Malfoy?" Geneva asked, noticing he was opposite him.

Orah's face twisted up as though it was tit-tat. "Kind of. I mean, he thinks he's a bit of a prat, but all guys are prats aren't they? Malfoy's just immature."

"If that's all you'd call him..." Geneva trailed off, laughing in sarcasm. She never doubted Billy was a nice guy, but she found it strange why he sometimes hung around with Malfoy.

The day got off to a smooth start after a hearty breakfast, with Transfiguration to follow, Care of Magical Creatures, and then, before lunch, Potions. Geneva distracted Orah by asking her more questions about Billy on their way to Professor Snape's class; her ulterior motive being she wanted to arrive last to Potions so that they would end up at the front. Her plan worked, and they took their seats at the lab tables right in front of Snape's desk. Perfect. Orah, however, wasn't so thrilled.

Professor Snape's triple base voice commanded the room before he'd even made it to the front and centre of the class, striding through the middle aisle in his black boots with his robes ablaze behind him. Geneva had missed his commanding presence, the bass in his voice and what it did to her insides. It was so good to be back.

After the first part of the lesson, which revolved around a textbook at N.E.W.T level, they moved onto the practical; assembling their ingredients on their lab desks with one cauldron between two. Orah kept looking round and smiling to Billy, which made for a great opportunity for Geneva to go unnoticed as she stared at her Potions Professor longingly, though equally trying to focus on his words, as she wanted to impress him and do well in her subject.

Once everyone had started, Snape walked the room to inspect student's formulas. Geneva awaited her inspection eagerly, for the moment he came over, she had something up her sleeve. Quite literally – a small piece of parchment with something she had scribed earlier...and then came her moment. Professor Snape came up beside her, sending her stomach a-flutter. They were so close that if she turned in her seat, she would be face level with his buttoned chest. He said nothing, but watched her work, peering over his nose into the cauldron with his fingers clasped in front of him. Geneva knew she'd be safe. No one dare look up in Potions when it was time to work on their practical. Snape demanded razor focus at all times without chit chat. Geneva had the small piece of parchment in her hand closest to him at the ready, and then, slick in her manner, she lowered it into his hand, pursing the tiniest smile as she felt him take it between two fingertips. The fluttering in her stomach increased as he walked on, hoping with all her might that he'd read it. Her anticipation lingered for the remainder of the lesson, making twenty minutes seem like a lifetime. To wrap up the class, they were to cork their vile with their potion, label it and bring it to the front to place in a wooden holder.

"One-thousand-five-hundred words by this time next week on the properties of today's potion and it's uses. You may leave," Snape concluded.

There was no reason to give an excuse to Orah - she and Billy were already walking toward the staircase with their bags as soon as they were dismissed. Orah turned and mouthed something with an apologetic look to Geneva who got the message and coolly gestured her on.

Again, she found herself the only one in the Potions lab with her Professor. It must have been the slowest she had ever packed her books back into her bag.

"I enjoyed the lesson very much, Professor."

"Good," he spoke. "Now..." He turned to face her, a look of severity in his black eyes. His steps forwards were slow and measured.

"This note of yours..." He twirled his fingers majestically and it appeared at once, then took the levitating paper between his fingertips and opened it up.

The moment Geneva had been waiting for.

It read 'How about a detention, sir?'

Professor Snape brushed the paper away with a flick of his hand and it disintegrated. He looked down and opened his lips before any sound came out.

"This must stop."

Geneva's heart that had swelled previously, now fell to her stomach along with her expression. She took the blow hard. She had planned this all holidays, hoping it would reignite what had happened in his store cupboard, but clearly it had backfired.

"Why are you pretending it didn't happen!?" She shot.

Snape pursed his lips and looked away - anywhere but her face. He walked towards his desk and sat down, taking his quill from its holder.

"You know what I'm talking about. Why can't you look at me," her voice croaked as her emotions rose. "You're denying it. You touched me first, you..."

"Quiet." He scowled, without looking up, busying himself with pieces of parchment.

"What if I'm not?" Geneva's chest rose and fell nervously, convincing herself she would expose their secret. His calmness infuriated her. Her comment had instantly got his attention. It shot toward her, sending a bolt through her chest. Something inside her fell apart at his black gaze.

"Except..." she cooed with sudden softness. "I would never...tell anyone."

Geneva took a shaky breath, and stepped forward, her nerves now feeling a little more balanced. "Professor, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you the entire holidays. Please listen to me." Though he never looked up from his writing, she proceeded, spilling her feelings. "I've been wondering if you were happy, thinking about what you said to me before I left, that the holidays aren't easy for you. I never thought I would care to hear something like that, but it got to me. When you looked at me today in the Great Hall..." she trailed off. The reaction she was hoping for never came. His eyes never moved from the parchment he was writing on. "I haven't had the greatest time at home this Christmas, parts of it have been really tough, but every time I thought of you I...You see because you are...well...and me, we're both...different."

Geneva stared at a blank space, feeling herself getting choked up. "This is stupid." Really fucking stupid, she thought to herself. He fucks you once and you turn into a mess. "The way I was thinking about you all the this time," she laughed in her throat, which came out more of a cry. "...What you were doing, if you were happy, whether you liked my stupid gift..."

She picked up a book and stuffed it into her bag, followed by another in the silence, feeling humiliated. Foolish.

"I did indeed like your stupid gift," came his silky voice. Geneva looked up and met his eyes across his desk, completely awestruck.

A sound escaped her, a miniscule exasperation of relief.

"Really?" she questioned, craving confirmation.

His brows rose, signalling approval.

Geneva's sadness melted into a heartfelt smile. Her first instinct was to go over and wrap her arms around him, yet despite his comment, she felt a formal barrier obstructing her. There were so many things she wanted to ask him, but they all fused together in one gigantic tangle that she couldn't string a single sentence together.

"You must go," he said, putting his quill back in the well and standing up from his desk. "You'll be late for lunch. That friend of yours will note your absence."

"Who Orah? She's a little preoccupied right now," she shrugged off, thinking of the way she waltzed out with Billy.

"Her grade alone tells me that," he muttered.

Professor Snape was moving around now, taking the students potions and carrying them over to a separate shelf. Geneva noticed how he was meticulously tidy. She wanted desperately for their moment to continue, but everything that wanted to leave her lips risked the chance of ruining the words he'd just spoken.

"Professor," she spoke, with easing caution. "When I asked you about the holidays...I didn't mean to sound intrusive. It's just because...well, I care."

Snape didn't respond, just busied himself further. It occurred to Geneva , that perhaps he didn't really know how.

"Professor, what I felt that day...with you...I know you felt the same way." What she wanted to say was that she'd never felt that good in her entire life, that the electricity of their moment set her body ablaze with burning desire and she so desperately wanted to feel it again.

There was silence still as he removed the phials one by one with his back toward her and added others to the stand.

"You must go now," he said lowly. "This castle bores many eyes."

"But not so many it doesn't entitle a Professor his privacy, else how would you sleep at night?"

He didn't answer, he was busying himself manoeuvring heavy books on different shelves, his cloak creating a curtain between them every time he raised his arms.

"Ambition, cunning, leadership, resourcefulness..." Geneva spoke the ways of a Slytherin. "No body has to know..." She was desperate not to let their bond break. Now she was here, in this moment, she was determined to unlock something, for him to let her in. Again, a silence followed. Instinct caused her to walk a few steps toward him, away from her books and placed her hand gently on his arm. It was firm, his coat tightly tailored to it.

Just then they heard footsteps. They spun around in unison. Snape immediately picked up a pile of books before the unexpected visitor came into their vicinity, and handed them to Geneva with haste. "These should suffice. Next Monday is the deadline."

Geneva turned around to see Mr Filch, the caretaker, staggering in, scowling as sweaty as ever as she accepted the heavy pile.

"Thank you, Professor," Geneva responded, as though scripted, and then headed toward the stone staircase to leave.

"Sorry to interrupt Professor Snape, sir..." Filch grunted, "It's about those Gryffindor boys - Potter and the Weasel kid..."

That was last Geneva made out before the sounds of hustle and bustle along the corridor drowned out their voices below.



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