9. The scent of the past

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1994 November 5, Hogwarts
"Class dismissed," Isobel chimed, her voice tinged with disappointment as the students shuffled out of the room, their lacklustre efforts leaving her craving more. With a heavy heart, she watched them leave, knowing that their minds were already overflowing with the mundane, leaving no room for the whimsy of transformation.

Turning her gaze to the raven, now reduced to a mere imitation of itself, Isobel shook her head in disbelief. How could such a task be so difficult for these gifted students? With a sigh, she acknowledged that perhaps the beauty of metamorphosis was not for everyone, and resolved to seek out those whose spirits soared higher.

With a flick of her wand, she quickly cleaned out the classroom, and left it behind, going to her free period, while her mother will be occupied with the 4th years.

Her body felt heavy, burdened by the weight of her own existence. Her mind wandered through the depths of thought, twisted and tangled like a thorny maze, mocking her attempts to find peace. She was consumed by a soul and self-destroying fatigue, her spirit exhausted by the constant search for purpose.

Yet, amidst the chaos of her thoughts, a glimmer of hope emerged. She sighed deeply, contemplating her options, seeking refuge from the relentless tumult. Flying would have been a tempting escape, but even that seemed too fleeting, too superficial for the depth of her despair.

Her mind raced, seeking solace from the relentless burden of existence. And then, like a ray of sunshine piercing through the dark clouds, a single thought emerged - a calming potion. It was precisely what she needed, a respite from the chaos within.

With a steely resolve, Isobel embarked on her quest to find the elusive ingredients for the calming potion. She relished the opportunity to seek out a moment of tranquilly amidst the tempestuous storm of her mind. She searched high and low, seeking out rare herbs and exotic plants, collecting peppermint, lavender, valerian root, and hyacinth in abundance and then, Flux-weed Oil as well.

But as she meticulously measured out the ingredients, she realized with a pang of disappointment that she was missing a crucial element - a crocodile heart. It was an unusual ingredient, to be sure, but not entirely unheard of in the world of potion-making. And yet, she had failed to acquire it.

Isobel paused, considering her options. She could abandon the potion, resigned to the reality that she would have to endure her thoughts. Or she could continue her search, relentless in her pursuit of the missing ingredient.

˚·꒷༶✧❁✧༶꒷·˚

Isobel stood before the door, her hand hovering hesitantly in the air. She longed to knock, to announce her presence to the one who waited on the other side. But fear held her back, the uncertainty of what lay beyond the threshold overwhelming her.

And yet, he knew she was there. He sensed her, as though he could feel the weight of her presence in the air. But still, he waited, biding his time, as if he too was unsure of what the future held.

It was a battle of wills, a silent stand-off between two forces, each one fixated on the other, neither willing to break the tension. Like two skilled fencers, they held their ground, each waiting for the other to make the first move, to reveal their intentions.

And then, as if by some unspoken agreement, they both stepped forward, meeting in the middle. Isobel's hand finally made contact with the wood of the door, her knuckles rapping gently against it. Snape, on the other hand, opened the door with a grace that belied his formidable reputation.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," Isobel began, her voice soft and hesitant. "But it seems I am missing an ingredient for my potion. I was wondering if, perhaps, you might be able to lend it to me?"

Isobel ━ SEVERUS SNAPEWhere stories live. Discover now