Brewing

Crouch and Luka put on quite a performance while telling of their mission. Excitement rose in almost everyone as they listened to stories of attacks on animals and people getting drained of their magical abilities. By the time they were finished speaking, most were convinced that Lord Voldemort was indeed hiding in Albania.

A few questions were asked, but the meeting quickly turned to suggestions of what the next step to take was. They debated and discussed for two long hours about where to go, who to send, and what to do.

The entire time, Elya stayed in her seat, pressed against Snape, eyes on Fenrir. The monster hadn't so much as glanced at her, but he knew she was there. She knew he could sense her, or smell her or whatever it was that werewolves did.

It grew dark outside, an eerie feeling falling over Malfoy Manor, and finally, as Elya began to grow very tired, the Death Eaters came to an agreement: Peter Pettigrew was simply going to travel the small country of Albania, gathering more information and searching endlessly. He was not to return until he had either found Voldemort, or was absolutely positive that he was not there. Pettigrew, being the pathetic follower that he was and too scared to argue, agreed without a sound.

It brought the meeting to a close, though many people remained sitting and talking. The Vavilov's were not of these people and quickly stood up. The change in position brought Elya's full bladder to her attention, and she quietly muttered her need for the bathroom before walking from the room. She immediately felt vulnerable without Snape close to her and made quick work of the toilet, washing her hands afterward and not bothering to dry them before rushing back to the sitting room.

She could see the professor through the doorway and calmed down only to jump back at least two feet when Fenrir quickly stepped into view directly in front of her.

Amber eyes widened and her stomach muscles clenched painfully, terror seizing the girl and holding her in a vice grip. Fenrir Greyback was, quite literally, Elya Vavilov's worst nightmare. She didn't cry herself to sleep at night, or live in constant fear of the beast, but she had scars, both mental and physical, from what he did to her. He had played a very large part in her introverted manner.

"Elly," his voice was rough, but he greeted her as if she was an old friend. "It's been so long."

A shiver ran down her spine, and he smirked at the shudder. If she could have closed her eyes, she would have, but they were stuck wide open, watching the werewolf closely. The only other thing Elya thought to do was back up, so she did. Every step she took, though, was mimicked by Greyback as he advanced on her.

Elya's hands shook by her sides. Her breath became ragged. The inhuman face she was staring at was the one that haunted her almost every night, and all he was doing was smiling at her cruelly. He knew exactly what he had done to the girl, what he was currently doing to her.

"You've grown up so nicely over the years, Elly," he commented. "What do you say we find a more comfortable location, say, a bedroom?"

The seventeen-year-old paled at the implication, feeling her wand in the waistband of her jeans. She wanted to reach for it but knew it was no use. Even with his stocky form, Fenrir had much better reflexes than any human, the perks of being a half-breed.

"Watch your tongue, Greyback. Wouldn't want to lose it, would you?" A low, painfully familiar voice rang out behind the lycan.

He pivoted, revealing a very angry Severus Snape with his wand pointed directly at Greyback's head.

The wolf sniffed and growled, "Always have to ruin my fun, don't you, Snape?"

"I could kill you right now, faster than you could even bark for help," the man threatened. "I should. You deserve nothing more than to rot."

Elya had never seen him look so menacing, black eyes intense with rage, bottom jaw sticking out slightly further from the top, lips pulled back from his teeth. He seemed almost as animalistic as the monster in front of her.

"I see you're temper hasn't improved," Fenrir commented dryly before turning back to Elya. He showed another unbecoming smile, then promised, "Another time then, Elly," before brushing past Snape roughly and making his way down the hallway to the front of the mansion.

Elya took a deep breath before slowly sitting down on the tiled floor. She was feeling a little dizzy-- a little overwhelmed.

Severus crouched down in front of her, face close to hers, but didn't crowd her with questions on her state. Instead, he reached out, pushed her bangs out of her face, and told her, "You're all right, Elya."

She didn't really know if he was in a position to tell her whether she was all right or not considering he was not the one who had just faced their worst fear, but she nodded, knowing that somehow, the man was right. She was fine, shaken up, but fine.

"Can we please just leave?" She asked in a pitiful voice, looking up at him with sad light eyes. "I just want to leave."

Snape felt an ache make itself known deep inside of him and stood up, extending a hand. "Yes, we can. We should probably fetch your father and brother before doing so, though."

She let him pull her to her feet and walked close to him as they re-entered the sitting room. Nicolai was, unsurprisingly, wrapped up in a conversation with Lucius, and Luka with Crouch. Snape made his way to the former and muttered low in his ear. Elya guessed he was telling her father a summarized version of what had just taken place, judging by the way Nicolai suddenly turned toward her with worried eyes. All the girl could do was bite her lip and force a smile.

Rejoining her, Severus said, "Your father still has things he'd like to discuss with Malfoy, so only I will be accompanying you back to Vavilov Manor."

Elya nodded at that, strangely fine with it, and the two made their way to the fireplace, throwing the green tinted powder into it and announcing their destination before spinning away.

At the house, she went straight for the kitchen, wanting to make some tea just to busy herself with something. Also, her throat was a little dry, and the hot liquid would probably feel superb.

The raven-haired wizard followed her, crossing his arms when she put the tea on and lifting an eyebrow. "Aren't I supposed to be doing that for you?" He asked.

Elya managed to snort as she retrieved the box of teabags from the pantry. "Maybe, but you said it yourself, you’re shite at consoling people."

Severus scowled and pushed himself off of the countertop he was leaning against, hastily making his way to the stove where the girl was about to lift the lid off of the teapot. He swiftly slapped her hands out of the way, earning a stare of incredulity, and retrieved one of the bags from the box she had just procured.

"Wh- what are you doing?" She asked. The grin was evident in her voice, and though he felt a little ridiculous for taking over, he also felt like he had achieved something by making her smile.

"Making tea," he answered in an obvious tone.

"Well, I can see that, thanks very much."

"Then why did you ask?"

Elya responded by pushing him, and he turned slightly, smirking. "That was a very unwise thing to do, Miss Vavilov. There is an open flame in front of me. Five points from Ravenclaw."

A small squeak left the girl, and she gaped at him. "You can't do that! It's the weekend, and- and- we're not even at school!"

Snape made sure that the teabag was situated nicely in the pot and that the heat was turned up high enough, then turned to Elya and showed a tight- lipped smile, leaning close to her. Too close. "You'll find, Elya, that I can do almost anything I wish to do."

The statement and the smirk he showed afterward left her a little breathless and feeling a bit dizzy again, but this time it wasn't from fear. Her run- in with Greyback was pushed to the back of her mind somehow, and she wondered if Severus knew what he was doing and if he was doing it on purpose.

"Is that so?" She questioned, voice slightly higher than normal. She could feel her cheeks redden and wanted to blame it on the steam rising from the teapot but knew that wasn't true.

"Quite, now take a seat while we wait for this to come to a boil."

Elya laughed and took one of the high bar chairs. "Only you can make something as trivial as making tea sound like brewing a potion."

Snape smirked, leaning against the counter again with crossed arms and watched her. The girl felt somewhat uncomfortable under his stare, but it was one she had grown used to over the years. This time, though, it seemed to make her skin prickle in an odd sort of way, and she held his gaze with brightening eyes.

"Finish your essay?" He asked in an attempt to make conversation. As much as both were comfortable in silence, it didn't really mix well with intense stare-downs.

"Yes, all three feet of parchment."

He nodded curtly without breaking eye contact.

"Poison any first years yet?" Elya tried this time, pulling a smirk from the man.

"Not yet, though the idea has been weighing heavily on my mind."

And, that was how conversation between the two went for the next several minutes, both asking and answering odd questions as they waited for the tea.

Elya realized that, as much time as she spent with the man, they'd never really just sat and talked. They had shared a few moments, but detention was the only time that Severus and Elya had truly let some guard down, and even that exchange had only lasted a few moments.

Now, that they were holed up in the kitchen, no longer student and professor, Elya didn't really know what protocol was.

The teapot screaming, however, distracted her momentarily, and Snape turned, breaking eye contact, to tend to it. In the end, two cups were poured, and Severus joined her at the bar.

Silence washed over the pair, and it was tense for a while until Elya couldn't take it anymore and went out on a limb. "So, what exactly do you do in your free time?"

Snape looked at her sideways, quirking an eyebrow, then took a sip of tea and set his cup down. "Between teaching those disgusting creatures most call students, grading awful assignments, brewing potions for the infirmary and Dumbledore whenever he requests them, and being an on call Death Eater, I'm afraid I don't have free time. It may as well be a myth."

The girl frowned, knowing she should have predicted such an answer. "Okay then, what would you do if you had some?"

Another sip and he responded shortly and once again predictably, "I would read."

"And, what do you read, Severus?" She was eager to learn something about him, anything that didn't have to deal with his profession at Hogwarts or his position as a Death Eater.

The man thought for a moment, and exhaled. He didn't seem annoyed with the interrogation, but he acted as if answering took some kind of effort. "I enjoy several different genres of literature."

"Favorite authors?"

This one, he could answer quickly. "Kafka, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and Dostoyevskey." To her surprise, Elya recognized all three.

"Aren't all of those-..."

"Muggle authors?" She nodded. "Just because they aren't magic doesn't mean that they aren't capable of producing brilliance."

Elya smiled at the sentiment. She would have never heard something like that coming from Nicolai or Lucius Malfoy. The young woman had never personally had anything against the non-magic population, though she would never confess it to her father. It was nice to hear that someone else was willing to give them a break, though, even if it wasn't a big one.

Smiling, Elya pressed on. "What about music? What kind do you listen to?"

The man sighed, but she could see the corners of his thin lips turning upward in a small grin. "Classical."

"How boring," the girl laughed, pulling a face.

Snape frowned at her then told her something that made her eyebrows raise and jaw drop. "I'm also known to listen to The Beatles from time to time."

That was what she was looking for. That was the type of thing Elya wanted to learn about, the little facts that the Potions Master didn't share with anyone else.

Trying to hide a giggle, the raven-haired girl admitted, "I'm a sucker for Lennon. Dad hates it."

"Oh really?"

She nodded. "Yeah, John Lennon, The Beatles, too, of course, The Kinks, and Iggy Pop."

Snape grimaced. "You just may have some Black blood in you. You would have gotten along well with Sirius."

Elya shrugged her shoulders. "Never met the man, but you're not the first person to tell me that. I hear he was a right fuck up."

For the first time, as far as the girl could recall, Severus Snape barked out a laugh, a genuine laugh, and grinned. "The man is trapped in Azkaban, Elya. I don't think fuck up even begins to cover it."

She smiled crookedly, staring at him. She liked this. She liked sitting next to the man with such a dark reputation, sipping tea, talking about novelists and rock bands. She liked his informal company.

"Why did you become a professor?" She asked offhandedly.

Snape thought for a moment, casting his eyes to the surface of the table and lowered his cup. "Dumbledore can be a very persuasive man."

Elya knew that she wasn't going to get any more out of him for the time being and accepted the vague answer.

"And, why did you become a Death Eater?"

He smiled wryly, almost sadly, and lifted his gaze to her. "So can Voldemort."

A muscle in her jaw twitched at hearing the name, as most referred to him as the Dark Lord or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Then again, at one time, Snape had been his most trusted servant, as Elya had heard it from her father. He had been extremely loyal and showed true courage for the snake-like wizard, and though appearance wise, Snape looked the part of a Death Eater, Elya still found it difficult to imagine him bowing to anyone.

Severus sat still and silent, reflecting on his past and the horrors he'd seen under Voldemort, but before he could let himself dwell on it for too long, he decided a topic change would benefit the both of them.

Turning slightly, he leaned on the table and faced Elya. "You're turn."

She frowned a bit. "Excuse me?"

"I've answered all of your silly questions. Now, it's your turn to answer mine."

Her cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink, but she smirked and agreed. "Fine, fire away."

"Why is it that you are always so quiet?"

"I'm not always quiet," she told him matter-of-factly. "I'm not really quiet around you."

He nodded. "Maybe so, but that has been a recent change. Why don't you ever converse with your peers or others your own age?"

For some reason, the way he worded it came as a blow to the girl. She didn't want to be seen as young in Severus' eyes. She was a mature young lady, not some crazy teenager, though she did have the hormones of one.

"I never find that I have anything to say to them," Elya told him truthfully. It was hard to talk to kids when all they cared about was the latest school gossip, the opposite sex, and what else they could purchase from Zonko's.

"Fair enough."

"Next question, please," she said cheekily.

He snorted but acquiesced. "What do you do in your free time?"

Elya rolled her eyes. "That's not original at all." He merely stared, waiting for her to answer the question. "Fine, I study, or I read, or I go up to the Astronomy tower to think."

"What about sleep?" The tone of his voice and his expression of curiosity led Elya to believe that he was trying to solve some kind of mystery.

"I don't much care for sleep."

"Because of your nightmares." And, there it was.

The girl pressed her lips together in a thin line and looked straight at him. She didn't want the conversation to turn dark. She just wanted a light-hearted little chat.

Still, Elya confirmed, "Yes, because of my nightmares."

Snape nodded and seemed to relax in posture a bit. "I could, if you so desired, brew a bit of Dreamless Sleep for you."

The offer left her speechless. Severus had always sort of been around for the girl, but it had really only been because no one else was. It was pure coincidence. Now, however, he was telling her that he was willing to put time in effort into a potion to help her do something as simple as sleeping.

It wasn't simple, though. She avoided it when she could, which was why, exhausted as they made her, part of Elya actually enjoyed staying up all night studying or finishing assignments, sometimes leaving chapters unread and essays unfinished so that she had an excuse to stay in the common room until the sun came up. It was unhealthy, but she took naps when she needed to and still slept at night. She just didn't sleep well.

"I, um... Thank you, but... Aren't dreams healthy for the brain? Even nightmares?"

The long-haired man shook his head. "I’m not suggesting that you take it every night. Personally, I just don't want you missing any more of my class."

Elya rolled her eyes. "Sev, that was one time."

"One time too many," he smirked.

The girl growled a bit sat back in her chair. "You're impossible."

"So I've been told."

Silence took over once more, but it was interrupted by Nicolai and Luka returning from Malfoy Manor. Severus took that as his cue to leave, and both he and Elya stood up and walked into the living room, meeting the two newly returned Vavilovs. Snape shook both of their hands and said his goodbyes, father and son walking into the kitchen as the professor stepped into the hearth.

Elya remained in front of the fireplace, furrowing her brows when she realized that she wasn't quite ready to say goodbye to the man.

"I, um, thanks," she started awkwardly. "For tonight, I mean, with the meeting and Greyback and staying here with me."

Snape nodded respectively, then added, "Think about my offer, Elya. All jokes aside, it isn't healthy to deprive yourself of so much sleep. If you keep it up, not only will your body start to rebel; your magic will as well."

Elya swallowed at the pointed look he gave her. She definitely didn't want either of those to happen.

In a compassionate gesture no one was used to seeing from the Death Eater, Severus reached out and took one of the girl's hands, squeezing it once before dropping it and retrieving some floo powder.

The man showed a small, tight-lipped smile, then said clearly, "Spinner's End," and threw the powder to the ground of the fireplace, spinning away in a mess of green flames and ultimately disappearing from view.