Dark Coil

Dark Coil

Chapter Six

"I take it that your first impression of me is somewhat lacking?" Snape's voice prodded her gently.

"No more so than yours is of me," Olivia laughed. They had reached their table and Snape released Olivia's arm to pull out her chair. Lifting her robes aside, she lowered herself and allowed him to slide the chair into place under her.

Olivia started at the cool touch of his fingers along the base of her throat, contrasting with his scalding breath as he spoke in a low voice in her ear. "May I help you with your cloak, Miss McGonagall?"

Licking lips suddenly dry, Olivia could only nod. Snape deftly released the clasp of the shimmering green cloak and removed it from her shoulders. The cooler air moved along her exposed skin causing her to shiver once more. The sleeves of the under dress were tight and ended in puffed caps at the shoulders, the neckline, deep and square. Glancing back, she noticed Professor Snape still standing immobile behind her. Raising her eyes to his, she said, " I am not used to robes. Mother bought this one for me." Embarrassed, she laid a hand across the low neckline.

Professor Snape took the chair to Olivia's right. He must remind himself to compliment Minerva on her taste in clothing. Assisting Miss McGonagall with her cloak just now had unnerved the black robed wizard. By necessity and a bit by choice, Snape had little contact with available women and those he met displayed little or no interest in him. The occasional visit to discreet establishments in Knockturn Alley provided him some physical release, but very little in the way of comfort or peace. Thus, he had been unprepared for the jolt to his system caused by the creamy expanse of skin and Snape had forced his eyes away before they could betray the magnitude of his longing. He quickly gave his attention to the elaborate menu lying before him.

Olivia watched Snape for a moment before opening her own menu and looking over the choices.

Her stomach rumbled loudly as she read the tempting items offered. Glancing at Snape from the corner of her eye, she caught him eyeing her from under one raised brow. "I am so hungry I could eat a hippogriff. Talons and all," she informed him airily.

"Hmmmm," was the cool reply.

Olivia finally settled on a steak dinner and so informed her empty plate, "Filet mignon, medium. Baked potato with loads of butter and sour cream. Steamed baby green beans." Immediately, her plate magically filled with food. Unfolding her napkin and placing it in her lap, Olivia addressed her empty wine goblet. "Something blush, fruity." She lifted her chilled cup and took a sip, nodding her head in appreciation.

"I have not paid much attention to the rumor and speculation pelting about the castle of late, Miss McGonagall, so I must plead ignorance about you and your position here. Until tonight, I was unaware that Minerva even possessed a daughter," Snape advised Olivia from behind the brim of his own chilled goblet. "I am not a man given to … socialization with the other members of the staff. But in my many years here, Minerva has never mentioned you in my hearing." He had not meant for his words to be cruel, but they came from his mouth with their habitual sting and Snape noticed a faint pucker appear on the ivory brow.

"Perhaps Mama felt it was none of your business."

Now it was he who felt stung, but he acknowledged her right to respond sharply. Setting down his wine, Snape leaned slightly towards Olivia, catching and holding her flashing eyes with his own. "Miss McGonagall, as I have said, I am not one who engages in frequent conversation. I have few acquaintances here at the school and my contacts with them are infrequent. Thus my social speech is not… lovely. I speak harshly out of habit, not with the desire to insult you in any way." This said, Snape turned back to his plate and menu. Silence hung between them like a curtain.

"Research tells us that any habit, good or bad, can be permanently changed in just twenty-one days." Olivia's light tone reached him and without looking at her, he allowed his mouth to turn up in a smile of acknowledgement. He was nodding his head slightly in agreement with her statement when he practically leaped from his skin.

Olivia had laid her hand gently on top of Snape's and given his fingers a firm squeeze. Severus looked at the unfamiliar sight of someone else's flesh touching his own and then raised questioning eyes to Olivia.

Olivia was unprepared for the parade of feelings that flashed in the black pools. Confusion at her touch, wonder, pain perhaps? But under it all, a cavern of loneliness so deep Olivia realized it must go back years and years. In the span of a second, she became aware that he did not know how to respond to her offer of friendship, one human being reaching out simply to touch another.

"Please call me Olivia." She smiled into the black eyes and withdrew her hand, freeing him from any discomfort she might have been causing.

"If you, in turn, will call me Severus," was his whispered reply.

"Severus." Her mouth caressed his name as she pronounced it. He felt himself shiver. "I like that." And then Olivia smiled into his eyes once more. " I will try to remember that you have a snappish way about you if in the future you will reassure me that I am not the cause of your pique. Not that I won't hack you off from time to time. I have that effect on people, for some reason."

"Hack me off?" Snape inquired, unfamiliar with the term. He had relaxed back into his chair and once again was sipping his wine.

"A Muggle term. It means that I will probably make you angry from time to time," Olivia explained.

"You have spent some time with Muggles, I take it?"

"Yes, I have spent the last few years as an attaché to the Ministry of Magic in the office of Muggle/Wizard Legal Council. I have defended or prosecuted witches and wizards accused of crimes in the Muggle community." She watched as his brows rose inquiringly. "Does that surprise you?"

"I am finding out rather quickly not to be surprised by anything you do, Olivia." Snape's mind was still on the tingle that remained on his hand from her touch. "And prior to that? You did not attend Hogwarts. You and I are nearly the same age. I would have remembered you had you been a student here." That he remembered her from the courtroom, he kept to himself at the moment. Let her tell him if she felt the need to be truthful with him.

"No." Olivia responded, dumping butter and sour cream on her steaming potato. "I begged Mama to allow me to attend Hogwarts, but she felt I was better served staying in the country of my birth. I attended Salem College in the states."

"You were born in America?" He asked sharply. When had Minerva spent time in America? Had she taken an American wizard as a lover? Snape could not reconcile the image of the Transfiguration instructor with a lover, American or otherwise.

"Yes. You see, I am adopted. My parents gave me up and Mama stepped in." There was a small note of pain at this statement that warned Snape not to inquire further.

"But you have been to England before?" he probed, wanting but dreading her confession.

Olivia took a bite of her potato and chewed in silence. Snape thought she was not going to answer, but then she spoke.

"Yes. I worked as a lawyer in England for a time. It didn't work out, you see, and I left for America." Again that note of warning.

Professor Snape watched her for a moment and decided to change the topic slightly. "While you were out saving the Muggle world from rampaging witches and wizards, did you reveal your magic?" He was definitely interested in Olivia and desired to keep up the flow of conversation. Perhaps she would speak his name again.

Olivia laid down her fork. "The governments of the Muggle world are very much aware of us, Severus. As such, we have reached agreements with many of these governments to insure the protection of both parties." Damn, she thought to herself, I sound like I am giving opening arguments to a court rather than engaging in pleasant dinner conversation. "I controlled my use of magic when it was necessary."

"To not use magic? You actually lived like a Muggle? Is that what you are telling me? I think I would have run mad." The sarcasm had returned to his voice and Olivia felt her self relax again. This was a topic where she felt safe.

"It really wasn't all that bad," she smiled. "Once I got used to doing things without a wand, it became almost fun." She had to laugh out loud at the startled look on his face and realized that the sound of her laughter traveled across the room causing several of the diners to gaze inquiringly in her direction. She caught Dumbledore's eye and noticed him smiling warmly at she and Snape. Her mother, however had her lips pursed tight and Olivia knew she would be in for a lecture on decorum later tonight.

Snape had ordered fish and he carefully pulled the flaky white meat with his fork as he continued his questions. "Didn't you find them boorish and dull? I mean, what can they do? Nothing! They are weak and stupid."

"Really?" Olivia asked sweetly. "How many Muggles do you associate with Professor Snape? I wouldn't think that anyone tucked away in the land of academia as you are would have much exposure to the world at large. You admit yourself that your contacts even at the castle are few." Olivia cursed herself for this barb, but forced her lips to smile brightly, her eyes wide and unassuming.

"You are overgeneralizing, madam." His tone had become cold.

"Well, weren't you?"

"I am merely stating that I have no use for them, is all."

For some reason, Olivia felt her ire rising. "Must everything in your sphere have a use? Does everything in your life serve a specific purpose? What about the pleasure of something for its own sake?"

"I must admit, Miss McGonagall," he replied dryly, back on more formal terms. "I am a very utilitarian fellow. I see Muggles as useless." He took another sip of his wine waiting for her response. It was not long in coming.

"I do hope you are not one of those fellows that are involved in the Anti-Muggle movement. To actually believe that we should shut ourselves away from Muggles altogether, separate ourselves from all contact," she snorted in a most unlady-like manner. "Those people really chap my butt!" Snape almost spit his fish across the room, but Olivia carried on unnoticing. "I hated those times I had to defend the rights of those hate-mongers, to acknowledge their right to spew their gar…" She bit off her words, noticing the sardonic look in the black eyes before her. "Please excuse me, Severus. I sometimes get carried away."

"Indeed." Snape drawled before turning his attention to the witch sitting on his other side.

Olivia stared at the back of his head for a moment and then settled down to eating in silence. So much for light dinner conversation.

The meal was wonderful, as were all meals at Hogwarts. Olivia finished hers in silence and the plate magically cleaned itself when she finally laid down her fork. Snape continued to ignore her presence so she turned her attention to the garishly dressed witch to her left. Olivia introduced herself and to her horror found she was speaking to Professor Trelawney, the Divination teacher. Minerva had warned Olivia of the wispy woman and her many death omens. Professor McGonagall held very little regard for the fortuneteller. "My dear, she could talk a phoenix into an early grave!"

The stick-thin instructor was weighed down with countless bangles and beads. Her rhinestone-studded glasses magnified her heavily painted eyes, giving her the appearance of a large glittering bug. After the introductions, Professor Trelawney spent the next thirty minutes in a monologue informing Olivia of the dire events the future held for several diners at the table. "Even you, my dear," Trelawney droned in her breathy way, "have a shadow lying across your path."

"Oh, really?" Olivia replied out of politeness.

"Yes. My inner eye detected its presence the moment I saw you. I contrived to be seated near you so that I may give you warning."

"That is very kind of you," murmured Olivia, dearly wishing Professor Trelawney would turn her "inner eye" elsewhere. "But I really have no firm bel…"

But the Divination teacher interrupted, "It is a great burden, to be the vessel through which many learn of their doom. I will, however continue to be strong. There is a secret hiding in your past, my dear. You are unsure if you can trust someone who could help you in the coming conflict. The danger is waiting to spring upon you when your guard is down, when you are most vulnerable. I see you being swept away...." The wispy voice drifted off.

Olivia heard a disbelieving snort from the man on her right and hid a smile behind her napkin. "I shall be most vigilant," she promised the older woman solemnly.

Another snort.

Olivia turned to face Snape. A mischievous smile quirked up the corners of her lips and made her green eyes sparkle like dancing pixies.

"Tell us, Professor Snape, what are your thoughts on visions of the future and such, hmmm?" she asked sweetly.

Snape took his time. He had spent his meal highly aware of the maddeningly strong woman at his side. While seeming to focus on his food and the occasional comment from Professor Sprout, he had paid considerable attention to the conversation between Olivia and that bat from the North Tower, Trelawney. Lifting his goblet, he partook of a deep drink, black eyes never leaving the teasing green orbs before him. Setting down his cup, Snape dabbed his lips and folded the napkin. "It is tripe." He noticed Olivia attempting to stifle a laugh behind her own napkin. He continued. "One second's hesitation, a last minute choice and the future is altered. Divination is not a science. It is guessing at its worst." He calmly leaned back, resting one black clad elbow on the chair arm. Propping his chin on his thumb, Snape casually ran his slender index finger back and forth along his upper lip. Olivia's eyes followed the seductive movement and she felt a rush of unexpected heat flood her face. Snape smiled knowingly. "I prefer to place my faith in that which can be seen with the external eye, touched with the hand. True magic comes from the will of the caster. It does not change willy-nilly."

Olivia heard Professor Trelawney's sharp intake of breath as she prepared to launch a rebuttal. But Olivia rushed in. She had the enigmatic man's attention once more this evening and was loath to give it up. "You are the Potion Master here, are you not? You speak of the will of the caster influencing the outcome of magic. Potions are basic recipes, but couldn't the will of the caster alter the outcome of the brew?" she asked.

"No." His reply was curt. "The potion remains the same. It is the use it is put to that is determined by the one who brews it."

"So anyone trained in the art could produce a potion to rival yours?" Olivia teased.

"There is no one to rival me," his voice slithered over Olivia's skin and caused her to wonder at her own daring.

She forced herself to laugh lightly. "You are so sure of yourself, Professor Snape?"

He leaned forward until his breath caressed her face. "Olivia," Snape whispered. "Do you find me attractive?"

She blinked, unsure where this was leading. "I suppose so, in a dark brooding sort of way." Why did her voice sound so weak? What was this man doing to her?

"Madam, I can create a potion so subtle in its form, tasteless as water, that even the most experienced of mages would not detect its presence. This brew would have such power, that one sip," at this he reached out a finger and brushed her lips like wings; "or perhaps a drop absorbed…here," his finger traced a line along her jaw, down the ivory column of her neck and slid across the exposed skin above her dress, "through the skin, would be enough to inflame the coldest of blood. The passion that would consume one so enchanted would drive them to any lengths to gain relief. Indeed Olivia, you would be so driven by the desire gnawing in your belly you would seek out anyone. Anyone… even me." His burning eyes held hers, his finger still on her skin.

Olivia licked lips dry from her rapid breathing. "Would you really do that to me?" She asked Snape in a strangled whisper.

"Would I have to?" he inquired, arching one thin black brow. Breaking contact with her eyes, he reclined back into his chair and raised his wine to his lips.

Olivia took a cooling draught from her own cup. Her heart pounded in her breast and she felt a sheen of perspiration on her brow. She turned her eyes back to the man beside her and answered his question.

"Let me think about that one."