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[endingupdead]

[Who:] Severus Snape, Open
[What:] Long-awaited Lilyfaces fallout that I've been avoiding
[When:] Tuesday of week 8
[Where:] Snape's self-allocated potions lab in the Stadium
[Warnings:] TBA

Comments

[leviohhhhsa]

After the fiasco that had been her attempt to apologise for Snape’s loss over the network, she hadn’t meant to go looking for him. She’d meant to leave him alone- at least for a little while- knowing that her presence would likely just be an irritant. He was an adult and intelligent, and he didn’t need or want her hanging around- and frankly, she wasn’t entirely prepared to try and be sympathetic as he called her (and Ron) everything he could think of.

But the fact was that Hermione was a Gryffindor. And a Gryffindor’s reaction to the sound of things shattering in the distance was always to run towards it. Her first reaction was that there had been some kind of attack or accident or ambush- she pulled out her wand automatically and started racing towards it, her heart thudding and her mind totally focused on the new issue.

It was this focus (and this assumption) that meant she only half-noticed that around here in the Stadium was where Snape lurked with his makeshift potioneering equipment. She realised it properly right as she

[endingupdead]

It said something not only about the depth of his desire to reduce the entire room to rubble, but his state of mind in general, that he didn't notice Granger until she disarmed him. The wand shot out of his hand and he moved sharply to the nearest table, an arm thrown up protectively and one hand grasping a bootknife which had served its purpose mincing ingredients until now.

It wasn't often he was disarmed; the last person to do it had been Potter. So it was that he was ready to fight now, expecting an attack, his face lined with rage.

Holding the knife in a tight fist, he spun on her. Some of the fight went out of him when he saw it was Granger, but not enough to stop him entirely. He assessed the situation, a tic jumping in his cheek, his eyes darting from her face to the wand in her hand and back again. Finally, with a disgusted sound, he flung the knife away.

He wouldn't fight her.

[leviohhhhsa]

She cried out and backed away as he snatched up the knife, her eyes wide and the first syllables of an incantation on her lips- but when he hesitated so did she, her instinct to hex him fighting against the thought that if he genuinely meant to hurt her he wouldn't have been so stupid as to pause.

She flinched as he threw the knife away, her eyes following it before they snapped back to his face and her lips parting, her face a mixture of fear and concern, with incredulity and anger there as well. She lowered her wand, still gripping it tight.

What to say?

Are you alright? would have been a little redundant, after all. What do you think you're doing? was fairly clear: destroying his makeshift potions lab, obviously. Why he was doing that was also perfectly clear, even if as a response it was hardly productive.

Incredulity and anger won. "I thought someone was being attacked," she snapped, breathless and accusatory- what were you thinking?- before she looked around at the debris littering the room and relented slightly, shaking her

[endingupdead]

He didn't have anything to say at first; he simply eyed her with cold dislike, as though he could see straight through her. Slowly, he looked away, assessing the damage and looking for his wand. What response he finally gave her was disdainful - though it was clear from the way his voice wavered that it was little more than a front.

"Neither is a blood replenishing potion."

Moving around the table without regard to the glass under his boots, he cast a look around for a telltale glimpse of ebony wood. He was still seething; he was angry and hurt and the destruction had done nothing to alleviate the sting, and when he didn't immediately find the wand, he grasped a bottle that had survived the onslaught and flung it against the far wall.

"She left me, Hermione!" he snarled, more a wounded animal than a predator.

[plotdeviceturk]

Tseng leaned on the doorway, surveying the debris. There was clearly something wrong with the kid, considering the destruction... or there'd been an attack. He felt...only mildly bad about needling him earlier, but things were coming to a head and there was bound to be some sort of attack soon.

He sighed, stepping in to the room and loosening his tie.

"Where's your broom?" He asked. They'd clean up first then see where things went.

[endingupdead]

Severus looked up from the small pile of glass shards he'd collected, his wand in-hand. Tseng. Likely the last person he wanted to see at the moment. He couldn't work up the energy to dismiss him, however. After the day he'd had, he didn't feel much like talking at all.

Instead, he shook his head and returned his attention to the glass. With a nonverbal Reparo, it reformed into a vial.

Not sweeping up, then, but attempting to sort and repair what he could.

[plotdeviceturk]

Tseng just sighed.

"I'm not going to rip your head off you know." He said quietly, picking some sort of metal holding apparatus out of the debris and setting it upright on the nearby table. "I know my way around a lab, if you'd like some assistance putting things in order."

It was his way of apologizing, really, helping like this. He wasn't one to openly say he was wrong when he didn't think he was, but he understood everyone's tempers were short in this sort of situation.

[endingupdead]

He passed the back of his wrist across his eyes and shrugged sullenly. "I don't particularly care -"

Severus stopped himself there, then shook his head with a soft, resigned snort. With another wave of his wand, the restored glass settled itself on one of the work tables. "You can help if it you wish. The broom isn't necessary."

It was his way of showing he recognized what Tseng was trying to do. And accepting it. He couldn't work up the energy to be spiteful or snide, and so he simply...gave in to apparent civility.