The headmistress of the new school, which was called Northcharm Magical Academy, had contacted all of the other wizard school headmasters and requested the great favor of them that they help her find some temporary, seasoned staff to fill in during the first year to give her more time to find qualified permanent teachers. Professor Asiaq ('blueberry' in Inupiaq) was eager to bring formal wizarding education to the shaman-inclined amongst her people, and felt that the Muggle-born non-Inuit wizard children living in the remote area would also benefit from a local magic school. Albus Dumbledore completely supported her endeavor, and somehow or another persuaded Snape to take the position of Potions master at Northcharm for the following year.
This was a few years before Harry Potter started his wizarding education, but Snape was the same in nature and behaviour as we have always seen him. Of course, he agreed to Dumbledore's wishes, but felt contrary within (as any who are permanently cranky are wont to do, not necessarily with reasonable cause). The thoughts of the gray glaciers and white, eerie skies, which would be sleeping under the five-month night during much of the year, served to console him in some kind of ironic way. Besides, he was used to the idiots in Britain and perhaps the idiots in Alaska would be, if not smarter, more entertaining by virtue of their newness. And less frustrating.
Professor Asiaq had been tutoring local children, Inupiaq and white, for a few years before she finally decided to start her formal Academy. She was an Animagus, taking the form of a sea otter when it pleased her, or when she felt like eating raw clams. But she'd always been not-quite-up-to-snuff on Potions (her specialty being her incredible memory for charms; she knew all sorts of obscure ones like how to turn a walrus into a carpenter). As a result, seventeen-year-old Topaz, a tiny brunette with five silver rings in one of her ears and a thirst for knowledge of potions and chemistry, found herself reaching for dryly written Muggle biochemistry textbooks and mystically obscure hand-me-down Potions manuscripts in order to satisfy that thirst. She even carried out a few scientific experiments independantly, to try to make the magical world and the scientific one make sense together. As a result of her yearning to understand the intricacies of the atoms, Topaz exceeded the other northern students in Potions.
When the school started up, it was clear that Topaz was going to have to be tutored in Potions individually. Thank goodness for Snape, thought Professor Asiaq. She knew she'd gotten lucky in getting this expert from the other side of the world.
Topaz actually wound up in two of his classes: her unique individual Potions lesson, which was very advanced, and his normal seventh-year Potions class, which only had four other people anyway. She had been looking forward so much to recieving his instruction; finally, a tutor in her favorite subject, someone to teach her at her own level. She had no doubt that she would live up to everything Asiaq had been telling Snape. But what would he be like?
It was a bit disappointing to find his personality so ascerbic, but once she realized that he wasn't going to be the fatherly chemist-wizard she'd been picturing, she tuned out her feelings and got to work. He had a lot of valuable and interesting things to say, even if occasionally punctuated by frustratingly bitter and uncalled-for statements. Sometimes he was sharp with her, because he was Snape, but even more so because he knew that she was brilliant and could do better. But because of that brilliance, he also knew that here was someone he could really teach, so he was also slightly more willing to explain things slower and more patiently. (Spock would point out that giving the smarter students more patience than the ones who needed help is "Illogical!", but he won't be born for another 200 years on another planet.)
However, in the group class, Snape became downright immature. He appeared equally frustrated with all five students, Topaz undeservedly included, and once ended class early to go sulk after throwing her paper at her in disgust. She sensed vaguely it had more to do with her imaginary supposed "attitude of superiority" than anything on the actual paper. At least it wasn't a potion! One of the other girls in the class spoke out against Snape angrily once he'd left the room, and after that her tongue was never silent of commiseration and complaints in Topaz's presence. The other girl, Dawn, gradually grew so completely disgusted with him that there was no turning back. Besides, it's not like Snape ever went out of his way to apologize to any of the students for his cranky behaviour. Topaz nodded because she agreed, and didn't say anything on those occasions when she felt Snape had been justified. She didn't want to be branded teacher's pet, even though she hoped they were past the age of such ridiculousness. It wasn't her fault if she happened to excel in Potions, and Dawn didn't.
Topaz, of course, had to continually make up with him because of their private lessons, which she was not about to cancel like an 11-year-old in a two-day fight with a best girlfriend. Most of the time, they worked professionally, in a state of constant tension, but sometimes he would get off topic and almost bully her, it seemed, into considering his twisted ideas on the state of the world. He considered her intelligent beyond many he had met, clearly, and his logic was running along the lines of if he could convince her to agree with him, that must mean that his ideas had merit.
She had cool patience for him. Anger made it easy to ignore his eyes.
Two months left of the year remained and the sun was beginning to shyly hang about the sky a bit longer in the afternoon. The skies were still only white, not blue, but at least the black night was gradually losing ground. To inaugurate the school, and to help find herself a permanent Potions master or mistress who lived up to Snape's skill, Professor Asiaq offered Northcharm Magical Academy as the host school for that year's Potions-education conference. Snape usually tried to avoid blatently social events like this five-year occurrence, but as Potions master (if only temporary) of the host school, he really had no choice.
Topaz took care of most of his duties at the conference, welcoming visitors from all across the globe and making sure they were comfortable. They arrived by floo powder and portkey, by dragon and magical ship. When beautiful Southern belle Potionsmistress Camellia Bush was dropped off by a team of flying beluga whales that she had chartered, she caused quite a commotion. Mlle. Bush was famous for her love of living it up, her sparkling wit, and her ability to fit large steaks and huge portions of potato somewhere within her averagely thin but sturdy frame. She was a cross between Scarlett O'Hara, Oscar Wilde, and Weezer from Steel Magnolias. She was immediately the center of attention and somebody decided that a night of singing, dancing, and carousing was soon to follow.
Snape was not particularly interested.
Topaz heard about the hubbub but was too busy to think about attending. Besides, wasting time and drinking with a whole bunch of middle-aged (well, some were over a hundred, even!) foreign professors that she didn't know sounded like a great way to stay up much too late to be coherent for her duties in the morning. She figured she would experience the great Camellia Bush during her lecture and demonstration the following day, entitled "Witches and Wizards Who Sell Potions Secrets to the Muggles: The Viagra Story".
That night she was greeting visitors as they walked into a lecture about the solenaceous compounds: nightshade, potatoes, etc. After she locked up the reception table, she had just enough time to run into the hall after the lights were already down and before the lecture started. When the lights came slightly up, focused only on the speaker, she realized she had sat down next to Snape.
Slowly she tried to relax her shoulders, but somehow she had a feeling that she was afraid relaxing them meant accidentally brushing against him. Her eyes slithered over to her left curiously. Snape was staring straight forward, engrossed in the discussion of poisonous plant substances. His eyelashes were long and black, like his cape and his hair and his personality, pretty much. So much about him was black that only his face and his hands, one perched on each leg, was visible in the dim light of the hall.
Topaz forced herself to relax, merely for comfort's sake, and tried not to pay attention when their shoulders touched. Hers were bare; the hall was well-heated and she'd welcomed the chance not to have to bundle up. Her mind had drifted completely from solenoids and was now wondering worriedly Oh no... is this what the tension meant.... please God.
She glanced again at his hands on his lap. Then she realized she was actually just staring at his lap. At this point she forced herself to look forward and attempt to pay attention to the speaker. But just as she was ever-so-painfully easing herself back into normalcy and thinking about eggplants, she heard his disembodied voice in her ear say, "That's why it stops the heart."
Her fast-thinking brain realized he was whispering in her ear so as not to disturb the rest of the audience, and thus she didn't abruptly turn in his direction, causing embarrasment. However, she had no idea what he was talking about. "What??" she whispered back, not drawing any closer to him.
"Digitalin. That's why digitalin stops the heart. Aren't you listening, or are you off dreaming someplace? I'm sure this conference is the kind of opportunity you haven't been able to enjoy here before, Winslow." When he was through hissing he returned his attention to the speaker.
Now she was mad, but unfortunately hormones were welling up inside her already. She needed to get away from him, but at the current moment leaving the hall would look funny and cause more uncomfortableness.
The speaker droned on and on for yet a while, and Topaz finally felt like herself again. On the way out of the hall and into the corridor, she and Snape were jostled along with the rest of the crowd and could not escape from its tide. They were a bunch of foreign witches and wizards who had been working all year and needed a night of partying, and nothing was going to stand in their way! Camellia followed Asiaq to an ancient great hall deep within the bowels of the Arctic castle, and everyone else, as usual, followed her.
Finally Snape managed to pull out of the crowd. Topaz slithered out with him, and they remained behind as the robe-clad throng of age-blessed revellers disappeared into the winding corridor. Snape looked surprised to see her. "Why didn't you go with them?"
Topaz shrugged. "I don't know anyone, they're all older than me and would ignore me, and I'm tired." She wasn't tired, but she'd learned almost unconciously at an early age that being tired was an excuse that was impossible to argue with. Truth was, even though she hadn't wanted to go to the party in the first place, she had basically just followed Snape. Without thinking. And that scared her.
He reached for her hand and she took it. Inside her head, her brain was fighting madly to stay awake, but something else was urging it to relax, sleep, let the body take over. Neither of them could say later why they'd both wordlessly gone along with the other's improper actions, but it should seem clear to the outside observer, of which there were none at the time of course, that this was merely a rock balanced on the edge of a cliff. It needed to fall, and fall it did.
Muggles would have called it a supply closet, but being that this was an ancient castle it was really even less than that. All she could smell in the tiny space was him, Snape, all around. His cape flowed over her bare shoulders as he moved closer to her, shutting the door. She wrapped her arms around his body and felt the smooth, crisp cloth of his shirt, and the warm hard muscle of his back underneath. It took only seconds for them to start to kiss. She sucked on his lip greedily as he moved his hands around, trying to touch all of her thighs at once. She pressed her lower half against his heat; she felt his desire reaching towards her through the fabric.
He held one of her breasts in his hand and waited until he heard her moan before he let his other one slither between her thighs. She pushed slightly against his fingers as they scuttled like insect legs up under her dress and drowned in her wetness. In a more lucid state, she would have wondered what he was thinking at her unusual amount of fluid. In a more lucid state, neither of them would be getting ready to shag in a closet.
He kneaded her clit with the tip of his fingers as he entered her, to deaden the pain. He only released his hold on her nether regions when she had stopped screwing up her eyes and whimpering and started moaning again. This wasn't her first time, but it had been a year. But she was wet and very aroused and now he was banging into her harder and harder and faster and deeper... oh God! She was moaning very loudly but the walls were thick. He was starting to pant. Both her arms were wrapped around his waist and she gripped him tightly when she felt him starting to cum.
She didn't want to let go of him in that moment and the moments beyond. But then all of the work she'd been doing for the conference, and the whole year, seemed to catch up with her and she fell asleep with him still inside of her.
He wrapped her in his cape and carried her back to the girls' dorms. Everyone was asleep and nobody saw him place her in her bed. The next day neither of them wanted to speak about their tryst. The rock had fallen off the cliff and lay there on the ground, inert, spent.
Since neither of them ever told anyone about the incident, Professor Camellia Bush never found out just what had happened when she had accidentally dropped her vial of scent-activated Action Inducer Potion. You know, the one that doesn't create desires, but forces their fulfillment? And since I never told anyone I'd found that broken glass vial, I'm the only one who knows the WHOLE story.
Oh well. I really didn't mean to read Professor Topaz's diary, but she's just so damned hot. Just about the only hot thing around here, ha ha ha! Well, guess that's life in Alaska.
Back to the students I go... another day of Herbology in the treeless frozen tundra lies ahead for me and my pupils.
Sequel possibly forthcoming? FYI “Farfalla”, meaning me, is not the speaker in this story. ;-)
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