The following days proceeded as the last Occlumency practice had, with Snape digging deeper and deeper into my memories, and eating fairly plain meals that he had prepared. Later, we would usually read together, across from each other if we were discussing our materials or side by side when we read in silence.
About a week had passed from what I gathered, and Snape told me I was doing well with my Occlumency. I had managed to block him out a few times completely; however, only when he tried to invade memories that pertained to him.
The closest I got to leaving the house were my stolen glances behind the curtains. The closest I had gotten to my mother was the clothes I wore from her dresser and the books I read, whose spines had been traced by her finger, whose pages had been worn and read times over.
It made me wonder how many days she had spent here, perhaps cooped up as I was. I wondered about my own conception. Was it an accident? Had they been together? My father didn't seem like the type to marry or have relations, yet, eighteen years ago, he had.
My mind churned my ideas nonstop, causing Snape to look up at me, concerned.
And now, he did just that.
"You're worrying again," he observed.
We were sitting in the living room, as we found ourselves doing most of the time. He hadn't gotten close to me since the day I had teared up.
I tried to not think about it too much, but with regards to the fact that we were alone and no one would see us, I might have been slightly disappointed.
"I've been cooped up for too long," I sighed, playing with the fringe on the fraying couch.
"I must leave today," he announced.
"What?" My head snapped up. I stared at him, not believing I had heard him right.
"I must go to retrieve something. However, I will be back soon. I will have to lock you in while I am gone."
"Why can't I come with you?" I whined, realizing I sounded like a little baby. "Why not, Sir?" I tried again.
"It is for your own safety," he said briskly, buttoning his cloak back on.
I had truly started to like how he wasn't wearing his cloak around me all the time. He was starting to relax more.
"Where are you going?" I asked, trying to sound tough. "If it's Death Eater related, I have a right to know, you know. I'm one of them."
My statement made him cringe, although it was not my intention.
"And I regret it every day," he stared me down. "I will return shortly."
Defeated, I sat back on the sofa with a groan.
The door clicked behind me, and I couldn't help but worry about him. The Death Eaters were searching for us, I knew it. Voldemort wouldn't let us pass like that.
I decided to start on dinner, wanting to make something nice for when Snape got back. I was happy he insisted to cook for us, but his foods were always so plain.
How he liked them, he had told me.
He didn't let me cook because he was afraid I'd burn the house down and expose us both.
I had rolled my eyes at this.
I decided to cook a pasta with the ingredients we had. Pasta, butter. There was some cream cheese. I had to get creative.
I started to charm some of the cream cheese, turning it into parmesan.
I put water to boil and started to make chicken alfredo. Without any chicken.
I put extra care into the meal, hoping to express my gratefulness for him protecting me , and, well, saving my life entirely.
I set the table, as he never did, usually just grabbing utensils and taking a seat. I folded the napkins into triangles, taking great pride in my housekeeping abilities. I liked playing this little game, cleaning our dwelling, preparing meals. Pretending everything was alright and normal. Waiting for him to come home.
Waiting for him to come home.
He had said he'd be back shortly. It had been five hours. The pasta had gone cold, although I kept reheating it, wanting it to be warm for him.
The oven clock read 11:24 PM.
I wiped my tired eyes, going back to the oven to stir the alfredo.
He had left six hours ago.
What if he wasn't coming back? What if the Death eaters had gotten to him? I paced the living room, my anxiety overriding my tiredness.
12:00. Morning. I had to go find him.
The only thing on my mind was him. His safety. What would I do without him? What if they had gotten him and were torturing him, trying to get answers out of him?
Hurriedly, I made my way to the door to grab one of his other cloaks, only to be thrown back from the door by an invisible force.
This must have been one of his attempts at keeping me in. Well, it wouldn't work. Not when his life was at stake.
I tried my best charms to get the spell to leave me alone, but, to no avail. Every attempt I made at leaving was blocked by the spell.
I could defeat his charm, I knew I could. I was a seventh year. These were simple charms I had to have somewhere in my head.
No matter what I tried, the door would not let me pass. It put up a strong defense system against me, stopping my way by propelling me away from the door, freezing my movements, or spewing a hard gust of wind at me.
I gave up on the door and tried the windows. It was one-thirty in the morning. I had given up on the alfredo, and it sat on the oven, cold.
The curtains in front of the windows had been charmed into place. They wouldn't budge, no matter how hard I tried. They were stone to the touch, and my wand was no match for Snape's spells.
Finally, at two thirty in the morning, I gave up. I had banged on the walls, my fists raw from trying to budge the curtains to at least take a look outside.
I slumped on the couch. My mind wandered to the worst situations possible. What if something had happened to Snape? What if I couldn't get out of here if something had? No one knew where I was. I was the only other secret-keeper. Not even Dumbledore could save me now.
Three o'clock came around. My eyelids started to flutter shut, yet my senses kept me awake.
Suddenly, the door swung open for a millisecond, and Snape was in the living room, chest heaving, muttering continuous incantations under his breath, sealing up the house once more. His hair was ruffled, and his cloak was soaked.
"Sir!" I exclaimed, jumping up.
Snape ignored me, continuing to place charms all over the establishment.
"I thought something had happened to you- or worse!" I exclaimed. "I thought you weren't going to come back! You said you'd be back shortly- I was worried..." I trailed off, noticing his back was still turned toward me.
He probably hadn't heard a word I'd said.
"Sorry, Sir. I'll go to my room," I said, dejected.
"Wait," he stopped me. "What is that smell?" He turned around, nose in the air. Snape looked tired. He looked like he'd been to hell and back.
"I made alfredo pasta... it's cold now," I muttered.
"We can warm it up," he stated.
"I'll get to it," I said eagerly, making my way to the kitchen. Snape followed.
Before I could turn the stove back on, he waved his wand, and the dish was warm again.
"Hey, that's not fair," I turned to him. "It's not the traditional way to do it," I laughed.
Snape rolled his eyes, yet a small smile of amusement settled on his face.
"It looks and smells wonderful. Shall we eat?" He asked, using his wand to hover some of the pasta into his bowl.
This made me more frustrated. "There's a ladle in there for a reason," I said.
"I have a wand for a reason," Snape retorted.
"Where were you?" I asked as we finally settled down to eat.
"I can tell you tried to get through the door," he said, ignoring my question.
"I did. Now where did you go?" I persisted.
"I needed to find resources to protect us. I also met with Dumbledore briefly," he added.
Did he say Dumbledore?
"Yes," Snape said, without looking up from his food. "It was quick. He wanted my assurance regarding your safety. I assured him all was well."
"I was worried that if something happened to you that I wouldn't be able to get out. Because of all the spells," I finished lamely.
"Your safety is my utmost priority," Snape said quietly. "The spells were to keep you safe."
"They were to keep me inside!" I exclaimed.
"Yes!" Snape retorted, throwing his fork into his bowl. It landed with a metallic clank. "Because outside is dangerous and inside is safe. And your safety is of the highest matter to me."
I looked down at my hands, wringing them under the table.
Snape started eating again.
"You are an exceptional cook," he said after a while of silence.
"Maybe you'll let me cook with you, Sir?" I asked hopefully.
He studied me, obsidian eyes trailing their way across my face and finally down to my anxious hands.
"That would be nice," he said.
We finished the rest of our meals in silence.
I started to clean up, but he wouldn't allow it.
"Allow me," he stated. "You prepared it. I will clean."
"Thank you, Sir," I said, feeling pretty dumb just watching him clean, so I started putting the rest of the pasta into the fridge.
However, Snape was watching me, a bemused expression occupying his face.
"Yes, Sir?" I asked.
"It's easier to use your wand," he scoffed.
"I'm not lazy like that," I replied. I should have thought that response through more.
"Lazy?" He scoffed. "Perhaps you are just incompetent regarding simple magic."
I bit my lip, not wanting to fight, and too tired to come back with a retort.
I walked into the living room, sitting with my book. Soon, Snape joined me, taking a seat next to me.
"I owe you a better explanation," he was the first to speak. "I left to Diagon Alley to meet a man with a death wish and an intent to take down the Dark Lord. The man goes by Featherfoot. I have been watching him with Dumbledore for years. He comes from Italy, and attended a magical school there."
I turned to face him, sitting cross-legged on the couch, trying to get more comfortable.
Snape lifted his eyebrows at my sudden change in attitude; nonetheless, he continued.
"Dumbledore and I have been utilizing secret methods of communication with Featherfoot, yet I had yet to meet him. Dumbledore swore him into secrecy through the unbreakable vow, which he was eager to put himself under."
With this, Snape opened the book he had been holding to a page somewhere in the middle which covered the basics of the unbreakable vow.
"His vendetta against the Death Eaters regards an incident from years ago- his family was killed attempting to take down the Dark Lord, and he wants to continue what they started. Meeting with him was difficult, as we had to continue to apparate to different places every few moments to keep them off of our trail, as a safety precaution."
"Hence your hair," I added.
"Is there a problem with my hair?" Snape inquired.
"Nope, absolutely not. Continue, Sir."
"Featherfoot and I have agreed to meet once more- tomorrow. This time, you will attend as well."
"Really? Oh my goodness- thank you, thank you!" My face lit up at the idea of leaving the place with Snape. A blush crept up right afterwards.
"You will be on your best behavior," Snape warned.
"Of course," I replied. "Anything to leave this place."
Snape didn't reply to that, instead choosing to get his book out and continue to read.
"I didn't mean it like that- I really enjoy my time here, with you..." I trailed off. I really had liked my time here with him. Every free moment my brain had, it drifted to our night spent reading on the couch, his arm delicately inching around my shoulders.
He let out a stifled laugh, making me jump.
I will never get used to his sporadically placed yet endearing laughs.
"The reading has been nice," he admitted.
I smiled to myself and settled back into the couch.
"Tomorrow, we will leave early morning. I will prepare breakfast and we will leave abruptly. The process will be rapid, in and out. I will need to rapidly re-cast spells around the perimeter, and you will hold my arm as we apparate to our first location."
As if I hadn't embarrassed myself enough for the night with my uncontrollable blushing, my face turned red at the notion of holding my professor's arm.
"Zelle, I have noticed your ability to shield your thoughts from me has grown stronger," he said.
"Huh," I replied nonchalantly. "Perhaps it's a side effect of my improvement at Occlumency."
"It is not," he continued. "Yet- you are improving monumentally."
"You're probably pretty happy about that," I scoffed. A dry laugh escaped my throat.
"Quite the contrary. I have become accustomed to hearing and feeling your emotions. It has certainly been an adjustment," he surprised me.
"But, what you said about my thoughts, back at Hogwarts..." I trailed off, rubbing my eyes. It was late and I was spewing nonsense.
Snape turned his body so that we were facing one another on the couch. He was so close I could smell his pine tree scent.
"I find myself quite missing your thoughts, Zelle."
"How so, Sir?" I asked. My heart started to beat out of my chest. What was he implying? Perhaps he was playing a trick on me.
However, it shortly became apparent that no trick was being played.
"I think you understand what I mean, Zelle. They are your thoughts, after all."
"You told me to rid myself of them."
"As it should have been apparent to you, your thoughts, your wandering little notions, were quite a distraction during my classes... regardless if you were in my class or not."
"Oh no," I simpered. "Was I too much of a distraction during class?"
"Zelle."
"Was my skirt too short, that one night?"
"Zelle!" He warned, his tone raising.
Teasing Snape was fun, and this I had come to learn. In our unspoken agreement held together solely by his promise that my safety was his biggest priority, I had been trying to make our nights more fun together.
However, I wasn't sure what he meant by me blocking my thoughts out. It sure wasn't intentional.
Snape looked at me, his face contorted in frustration.
"Sorry, Sir," I said back.
"You were always a little distraction, you know that?" He growled. "Always walking around my classroom like you owned the place... feeling oh so entitled. Practically begging me to tutor you. Prying into my mind when you were floors away."
"I didn't mean to," I said, starting to feel small.
"Oh, I'm aware," he smirked.
I glanced at the clock. Four AM. Perhaps it was too late, and neither of us knew what we were talking about.
"You were always just there..." he mused to himself.
Suddenly, his long fingers took my jaw. Tilting my head back and forth, he examined me. Suddenly, he leaned forward with a jolt. He lowered his lips to my ear, nose skimming my hair, and whispered.
"My little distraction."
My heart beat so loudly I could have sworn it was preparing to take flight out of my chest.
Snape rose, and pointed me to my bedroom, where I went right away.
"Have a good night, Sir," I whispered, leaving him in the living room, reading his book as if nothing happened.
Leaving me with my mind awhirl and my delicate heart afloat.