Eye of the Beholder

Author’s note

 
Chapter 9. Mirror, Mirror On the Wall
Sasha traveled the now-familiar corridors to the potions classroom, and entered Snape’s of wit with a knock. This was the first day they would actually begin the practical part of the experiment. The first step in a long series of steps towards getting rid of her hated scar. She put her bag containing her quills and ink, down and walked over to the desk where Snape was sitting.
 
"Good evening, Miss Rowan, you are right on time," he said distractedly, signing-off his comments on a piece of parchment with a flourish.
 
Sasha saw her old lab notebook on the corner of the desk and reached for it. "Do you mind if I take notes for myself during this phase of the potions experiment, Professor Snape?" she inquired, flipping through the worn book to the last available page.
 
Snape snorted. "Of course not. In fact, you are encouraged to do so, however you will not be taking notes in that," he said, indicating her notebook. Sasha was confused. Then in what was she supposed to write? Snape smiled at the look of incomprehension on her face, and he pointed to a small, wrapped package sitting on the low table in front of the couch. "That is for you," he said simply, and stood up.
 
Sasha walked over to the couch, sat down, and picked up the package. It was wrapped in dark green silk, and tied with a black silk ribbon. She looked up at Snape, who indicated with a nod of his head that she should open it.
 
Gently she pulled on the ribbon, unraveling it. She carefully unwrapped the silk to al tal the most beautiful lab book she had ever seen. She was shocked at the quality of it, and wondered why Snape had graced her with something so valuable. It was bound in green leather made from dragon’s hide, and it had the sheerest glint of translucent scales covering it. There were two pewter serpents entwined together, forming the book’s clasp, and Sasha realized they were similar to the design she saw on Snape’s mirror. The snakes’ eyes were of the palest blue, and again, she had the feeling the book was enchanted somehow. The spine was designed such that when the book was laid flat, the pages would not flip over. There were six or seven coloured silk ribbons hanging down from the top of the spine, which she assumed were to be used as placeholders. She opened the front cover, and there, inscribed in black in in Snape’s bold handwriting was an inscription.
Sasha,
May your notes remind you of the difficult path ahead of you, and erase any doubts as to your purpose and direction along the way.
Severus Snape
 
Sasha looked up at S in in amazement. She had never in her whole life ever received a gift as beautiful and valuable as this. She was speechless, and overcome with emotion at his unexpected kindness.
 
Snape had watched her with indifference as she had unwrapped the notebook. He felt a rush of pleasure at her obvious appreciation of his gift, but hid that fact from her. He sat down right beside her, and as he took the book from her, their hands briefly touched. He felt a subtle trembling in hers.
 
Snape explained the features of his gift. "Due to the caustic nature of the ingredients we will be using, I realized your lab book would not survive long during this experiment, so I took the liberty of providing you with a new one. The cover is made of Dragon’s hide, so it is impervious to all forms of heat damage. The outer scales are from the Nomad serpent, and will repel any caustic substance that the book may accidentally come into contact with. We will be using such substances, which is why I decided to give this to you." He looked at her briefly, and was secretly satisfied with her growing appreciation of the book.
 
"The clasps have been cursed," he began, but stopped when Sasha looked up at him in fear, to his amusement. He smiled at her briefly, before continuing. "Cursed so that if anyone other than the giver or receiver of the book tried to open it, they would be injected with a deadly venom. There is no antidote, so guard this book carefully Sasha." Snape pointed out the very small, very sharp fangs on the ornamental serpents. She would have never guessed the serpents were practical as well as ornamental.
 
Finally, as if to explain his inscription, he said, "This book is for you to keep. I want you to record not just the progress of the experiment, but your thoughts and feelings as you are conducting it." Snape slowly closed the book, and placed it back in Sasha’s hands. She was overwhelmed with his generosity, and foresight. She turned to face him.
 
"Professor Snape, there are no words to describe how I am feeling right now. Thank you! You have no idea how much I appreciate this gift." She left it at that, because she knew if she said anything else she would start to cry.
 
Snape felt a gentle warmth spread through him at the thought of her cherishing his gift. It was something he had been thinking about for a while now, and after his talk with Dumbledore yesterday, he decided to give it to her. He chose the book with the pale blue stones for the serpent’s eyes, as they were the closest he could find to match to her own.
 
He was beginning to feel a bit uncomfortable with her display of emotions towards him, so he stood up. "So, shall we begin?" he asked. Sasha also stood, picked up her bag, and hugging her new notebook to her chest. She followed him into the lab.
 
Snape had the two tables set up and the ingredients organized so they could crush and chop them. Her three cauldrons were set up on the nearest table, and his four on the far one. Each had a mortar and pestle for grinding, and a chopping block for mincing the animal tissues they would use.
 
Sasha set her bag down, placed the new book on the table, and found her quill and ink. She removed a hair clip from the bag and walked over to the mirror above the sink.
 
Snape watched, his eyes narrowing in anger as she gathered up her hair and with a twist, put it up into a loose knot. Small tendrils were lazily falling around her face.
 
"What do you think you are doing! Stop that this instant!" Snape shouted in anger. Sasha froze with her hands still in her hair.
 
She looked up at him through the mirror, and answered in a small voice. "Putting up my hair so that it does not get in the way?" Her look of incomprehension cleared as she looked at herself in the mirror. She always put her hair up when she was about to start a potion, but she never realized that in doing so, she clearly revealed the long, ugly scar down the side of her face. She felt embarrassed about not thinking of Snape’s feelings. While she was used to looking at it, she was sure Snape would be disgusted having to stare at her scar for the next month or so. She quickly let her hair go, and it fell back into its usual messy appearance.
 
"I did not mean to gross you out Professor Snape," she answered quietly. "I can leave it down…" Before she had time to finish her sentence Snape strode over, grabbed her painfully by the shoulders, shook her and looked angrily into her eyes.
 
"Think, Sasha, think of the ingredients we will be using." Sasha mentally reviewed the list he had prepared earlier. "What other potions also use many of these same ingredients?" he asked. Sasha knew he was testing her, and she wracked her memory, whipping through many of the potions they covered in class. Then it dawned on her.
 
"Polyjuice potion?" she said with dawning horror. She finally understood why Snape was angry. If any of her hairs were to fall into the ingredients at this point in time, it would significantly alter the properties. His foresight had prevented a major disaster even before they had started.
 
Snape still held her by the shoulders, and he roughly spun her around to face the mirror again. He bent over and pulled up a stool. "Sit," he spat out, pushing her down roughly. "Don’t move," he commanded her, still angry. She had no choice but to obey. Without another word, he stormed out of the room. Sasha was embarrassed at his anger towards her stupidity. He was back within moments with something in his hands.
 
He stood behind her, and placing his hands on her shoulders, he spoke to her reflection in the mirror. "This is very important, Sasha," he began in a calmer tone. "Every time you come into the lab, your hair should be pulled back, and preferably braided. There is a reason for this. That way even if a single strand of hair come loose, chances are it will not fall into the potion."
 
With that, Snape surprised her ringringing up a hairbrush, and slowly, starting from one side of her head and working towards the other, he began to gently brush out her hair. He was very thorough, and used long even strokes to remove any loose strands. She started to relax under his gentle touch, and watched his reflection as he worked.
 
He was so quick to anger, she thought, but once again, she reminded herself it was for her own good. His face was now relaxed as he methodically ran the brush, followed by his hands, through her hair. His graceful fingers were long and tapered. Almost like pianist’s fingers she thought. Under his raven black hair she could see his face deep in thought. She felt warm and comforted by the simple actions he was doing. She could not remember the last time anyone brushed her hair. She never knew such a personal and mundane task could be so, well, enjoyable. She could feel his fingers along the back of her neck as he gathered her hair into a bundle, and sorted it into three sections. The gentle touches were sending delicious shivers through her, and she wished she could feel more of his touch.
 
Snape’s first thought was to prevent any contamination of the potion. However, he thought to himself, what ever possessed you to go and brush her hair? He fetched the brush so she could do it herself, but seeing how vulnle sle she looked after his burst of anger, he wanted to apologize, but did not know how to voice that. He was not exactly used to begging for forgiveness, after all. He would have to adjust to working with a student, he thought. They did not have the years of experience he did, and the knowledge of procedures.
 
Snape noticed her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were closed at the moment, and he could feel her relax slightly under the rhythmic strokes of the brush. Her scar did not bother him in the least, and he would have to let her know that if they were to move forward in working together to make this potion. Snape became aware of the task he was doing. Her hair felt like the softest of corn silk beneath his hands. He could smell the lavender of her shampoo rise off as he stroked the strands into submission. More than anything else, just touching her in such an innocent manner was making him feel flushed with desire.
 
He fought an urge to put the brush down, and just run both hands through the mass. He wanted to gather it up and bury his face in it, inhaling deeply of the clean smell of her. He wanted to lean forward and trace small kisses with his tongue along her temple, nibble on her ear, and then gently suck on her earlobe. He felt like gathering her in his arms, and just holding on tight. She felt so soft and warm, sitting there in front of him, and the thoughts of doing more than just holding her were starting to form. He felt his loneliness more than ever at this moment, and it made him want to keep touching her, even though he knew he had no right to do so. He felt a tightness gather in his loins, and knew he had to stop fantasizing before he actually did something inappropriate to her.
 
What a fool you are Snape, he thought to himself. She is young, intelligent, and she would run screaming in horror if you ever dared touch her. Besides, if she knew the real you, the man who as a Death Eater had tortured innocents and enjoyed it, she would never allow herself to be alone with you. Ever. With that thought, Snape put his full attention back into braiding her hair. He finished, and bringing out an elastic, he snapped it into place tightly. There. Finished.
 
Snape looked up into the mirror, and caught Sasha staring at him. Both of them were still for a moment, watching their mutual reflection. Sasha was sitting up straight, her hair pulled back neatly. Snape was standing behind and to the side of her a bit. Their image was framed by the oval mirror, into what, under different circumstances, would have been an ideal portrait. The moment was not lost to either of them.
 
Sasha had the nerve to break the silence first. "As long as you are OK with looking at me…" she stopped, and reconsidered her words. "…at my scar for the next month, I have no objections to keeping my hair up and back."
 
Snape realized what her issue was. She was concerned the sight of it would bother him. She was wrong, and it was time to tell her so. Snape moved around so he was directly facing Sasha. He took her face roughly in his hands, forcing her to look up at him.
 
"Sasha, I will say this once, and once only. If you do not wish to listen, that is your choice. There are many other women here at Hogwarts that are far more beautiful than you..." He saw her wince at his brutally honest words. "However, they are beautiful on the outside only. Scratch the surface a bit and you will reveal the filth and corruption beneath. They are here at Hogwarts only to find a husband, or strengthen alliances with old wizarding families. They have no personal ambition, no drive to improve themselves, and no desire to succeed. But you do."
 
"You have those qualities and more. You have a natural intelligence that the sorting hat did not miss. You also han ian inner strength that has allowed you to survive obstacles that nobody should ever have to endure. You are self-reliant, and do not need constant praise to maintain your self worth. In my eyes, that makes you much more beautiful than any other woman here at Hogwarts." Snape paused so that the meaning of these words would sink in.
 
"You can cover your scar with your hair all you want while you are attending classes.everever, here, in my lab and in my presence, I do not want you to feel embarrassed or ashamed of something you had no control over. Something you were not responsible for. Do you understand me?" This last statement was made very gently, so she would know he was not angry with her.
 
He saw tears well up in her beautiful gray eyes, and more than anything else he wanted to reach out and hold her, comfort her. He understood that his words could be harsh at times, but it the the only way he knew to make her understand how he felt.
 
Sasha knew that what Snape was saying was the truth. Her opinion of him actually increased because he had the guts to say those things to her directly, and not honey the words. Because she did not dare speak for fear of releasing a never-ending torrent of tear, she reached up and gave his hand a quick squeeze. His acceptance of her meant more than anything else at the moment.
 
"So, now that that issue has been closed, I suggest we start working on your potion." With those thought to contemplate, they each sat down at their respective tables, and began preparing the ingredients.