Dumbledore had sent me back to my dorm with nearly nothing. He had revealed to me that Snape cared about my success- but he was a teacher. It was his job to care about students' success, regardless of how he showed it.
Now, how was I going to get Snape to tell me the spell he cast, the spell that was so strong that it worked at the same time as You-Know-Who's spell. Oh- a spell that he didn't even remember casting. Because he altered his own memory. For some odd reason. And, somehow, Dumbledore expected me to figure it out. Why didn't he give this little mission to his Golden Boy, Harry Potter? I'd rather he figure it out than me. That boy always seemed to be able to get things done.
It was a few minutes before curfew, and a handful of students milled around the hallways, making their way to their rooms. I sighed when I realized that all that awaited me was likely a story about Malfoy and how he wasn't so bad after all from Riss.
I answered the bronze eagle's question at the door of the Ravenclaw wing, and made my way upstairs. Riss was still up, yet, luckily for me, she had other topics on her mind other than Malfoy.
"We need to go dress shopping this weekend," Riss announced. "There's less than a month left until the ball, and we need to take a Hogsmeade trip ASAP," she said, matter-of-factly.
"Good idea. I'm in," I sighed, burrowing into my covers. I was not excited for my classes tomorrow whatsoever. I had no idea how to go about extracting this information from Snape. Force him to take Veritaserum? I inwardly laughed at the idea.
"So... what kind of dress are you picturing?" I asked Riss.
"Oh! Well, I'm not so sure. The ball is supposed to be formal, right? And then we get to change for the haunted town tour. So definitely a nice dress!" She gasped. "How about you?"
I bit my lip. I wondered what kind of dress Snape liked. I huffed at myself for even having the thought. "Oh, definitely something fancy."
With long sleeves, I added to myself.
"This weekend, you and I are going to Hogsmeade!" Riss announced. "Oh, Saturday's in six days and I already can't wait!"
I almost laughed at her eagerness. I was glad she was happy and free of worries. Other than the dance, which was a month away.
A worry I wished was my top priority. Should I tell her she's dating a Death Eater?
I shook the notion from my mind. I knew she'd come to her senses soon enough and ditch him. I had other things to worry about. Riss was satisfied with my agreement to go shop with her, and she turned over on her bed, turning off her lamp. I followed suite, my mind spinning. All I could think about was tomorrow.
---morning-
Riss was gone from the room when I awoke, which was surprising. She was always one to sleep in. I grabbed my wand and lazily summoned my white converse with an 'accio!'
I brushed back my hair, tying into two low ponytails. I put on some rings, and tightened my blue tie. All set. I decided to skip breakfast, as I had already slept in fairly late. I headed down to potions, knowing I'd be early. Maybe Snape would be there and would discuss potential tutoring opportunities. To expand my skills or whatnot. I couldn't stop thinking about the desperation in his voice when he had talked to Dumbledore's portrait. I wondered where that stemmed from. It seemed like more than just a regular teacher's concern for their student to succeed.
I pushed the thought from my mind. It was ridiculous and a childish dream. I reassured myself this and it almost made me feel better. I was latching onto Snape because he was a Death Eater too, and knew what I had been through. Nothing more.
Dumbledore trusted me enough to go on a mission and extract a memory from him. Me, not Harry. I couldn't screw this up.
Tilting my chin upwards, I arrived at the potions classroom for Advanced Potions. I tried to look confident as I held my textbook to my chest.
Snape's door was closed, and my newfound confidence faltered a bit as I raised my hand to knock. I was well aware that I was twenty minutes late. He probably wasn't in there anyway. I lowered my hand; however, the door swung open before I had the chance to knock.
Snape sat at his big desk, elbow propped up on the desk, his hand supporting his chin. Just like when - shut up, I shook the thought from my head.
"Think getting to class early is going to get you extra credit?" Snape smirked.
"No, Sir. I only wanted to ask you about the tutoring you mentioned."
"You think you're special enough to warrant tutoring?" He scoffed. "You think you deserve private lessons with me?"
"I-" Was all I could muster. My throat dried up instantly.
"Because you do," he whispered.
"What?" I gaped at him, my eyebrows furrowing.
"Close your mouth. Stop staring like that. I will teach you, Zelle," he started at me intently. "We will start after this hour, during Applicable potions."
What was the point of his rudeness if he was just going to help me anyways? It made no sense whatsoever.
I looked down at the ground, then peered back up at him through my lashes. This was the stupidest thing I was about to attempt.
He looked back at me, amusement coursing through his eyes. Wondering what I was about to do next. I mentally crossed my fingers that I wouldn't embarrass myself.
"It's just... you're so good at potions," I stammered. "I would hardly know where to even begin..." I couldn't even look at him to see if this was working or not. I was sure I was just embarrassing myself further. "I-I mean, you're probably good at loads of other stuff too- spells, I mean," I said, catching myself. "Maybe you could help me with spells too. There's one I cast a long time ago that I can't remember..."
Snape looked at me incredulously. "Spells?" He scoffed.
My cheeks burned bright red.
"If you're struggling so much with spells, Miss Agoria, then I recommend you re-do the past few years and stop wasting my time."
"No, no!" I quickly recovered. I realized how stupid my remark had sounded. "I cast a spell but I can't remember how it went. Is there any way to remember it?"
He stared at me for a few moments, his expression unreadable. "You can't remember... a spell you cast?" He repeated slowly. "Maybe work on your memory skills regarding your spell skillset rather than spending your energy wasting my time. Take a seat. Advanced Potions is about to begin," he sneered.
Face aflame and heart in near pieces from the way he had spoken to me, I walked back to my seat. I bit my lip so hard I nearly tasted blood, and pulled my textbook out.
The rest of the class filed in gradually as I stewed in my embarrassment.
I couldn't even look Snape in the eye as the class proceeded. Luckily for me, he didn't call on me or question my attentiveness to the subject at hand. Which I wouldn't have known anyway. My first attempt of a combination of flattery and asking for help had gone drastically wrong. I just ended up making myself appear incompetent in Snape's eyes.
There was no way he was going to tutor me now.
Class went on as I stared down at my desk. I tried to focus on what he was saying, but all I could think about was my failed attempt and how I was going to get the spell out of him. But that wasn't the only thing nagging at the back of my head. I wanted to impress him. I wanted him to think I was good, and not just some little girl who couldn't remember a single spell. I had to show him what I was really made of.
Slowly, I lifted my head. I figured I should at least try to seem attentive for the remainder of the class period, at least until Applicable Potions, when I would have to undoubtedly face him.
We were discussing the Calming Draught, and I was glad we had finally moved on past Veritaserum. The day Snape had me brew the potion, cold yet smooth hand gripping my chin as he poured it down my throat, was something I'll never forget.
My mind wandered back to his hand. It was strong, that I could feel simply from the sensation of his long and pale fingers grabbing my jaw. Harsh, yet not too harsh. The perfect amount of pressure against my jaw. My face reddened, and I hadn't noticed that class had been dismissed.
It was just Snape, me, and my wandering thoughts.
Maybe a little too wandering.
"Care to share your... subject-related... thoughts?" His silky voice broke through the mist that was my clouded thoughts.