Mixed Signals

Katya woke up early, as she had done for as long as she could remember. Morning light filtered through the purple velvet curtains that adorned the elegant flat Nikita had lent her for her stay in London. Located in the Mayfair district, she loved how easily she could explore the neighbourhood since her arrival in the city. She dressed slowly, rummaging through her suitcases. Although she enjoyed the privacy and comfort of staying in her friend's flat, there was always something to remind her it wasn’t truly hers—like not being able to organize her clothes properly in the wardrobes.

Nikita's flat was filled with shelves of ancient books, bold colours, magical artefacts, and Muggle paintings decorating the walls. The clock on the living room wall read 6:15 a.m. when she finally finished dressing. She had chosen a blue skirt and blazer set paired with a white blouse. Ready for another day at the office, she slung her briefcase over her arm.

She walked to the bus stop, glad to be in what was perhaps the quietest area of London, a peaceful corner of Holland Park Lane. While riding the bus, Katya took a seat and leafed through her leather-bound notebook. It was a seemingly ordinary object, but it was enchanted with complex concealment spells of her own design. Only she could read it, and any attempt by someone else to open it would result in blank pages. In it, she meticulously recorded every relevant detail about the Malfoys and their movements, just as her father had instructed when presenting the agreement.

Every time she did, a tightness gripped her chest. Her father had been clear: she had to fulfil her mission of spying on the English pure-blood families if she wanted to earn her freedom.

Arriving in central London, the city’s bustle greeted her. Muggle life fascinated her, though it wasn’t entirely new territory for her. Londoners seemed far more talkative compared to Muscovites.

When she reached Diagon Alley, she made her way through the day’s early shoppers. The sight of magical shops and narrow alleys comforted her in some way. She entered Gringotts Wizarding Bank, where she worked as a personal accountant for the Malfoys. Her office was located in a left wing of the bank, far from the main hustle and bustle. There, Katya focused on analysing transactions and managing family assets, tasks she carried out with meticulous precision.

Lucius Malfoy had proven to be a demanding client but was sociable and courteous, and Narcissa, his wife, though somewhat distant, maintained a polite façade with her. However, Katya knew her role in the family went beyond the obvious. As she worked, fragments of conversations from the gala replayed in her mind. Veiled words, cryptic remarks about the "new order" and the need to protect the purity of magic. Each word she wrote in her notebook brought her one step closer to completing her mission, but it also deepened her fear of being discovered.

During her lunch break, she decided to walk through Diagon Alley. The sun had come out, and the street was brimming with life. She passed Flourish and Blotts, where a display of old books caught her eye, but she didn’t go in. She figured she’d have time to browse the shop another day.

Suddenly, a tall man standing with his back to her caught her attention, and she couldn’t help but let her thoughts drift to Severus Snape. The encounter at the Malfoy gala had been an unexpected blow. She didn’t understand what he was doing there. Yes, she knew he was English and taught at Hogwarts, but to be at the same gala as her? To know the Malfoys? Could he be a supporter of blood purity? Katya had assumed she’d never see him again after Vienna, but now it felt like fate was cruelly toying with her.

Her steps led her to the Apothecary shop, a place she had noticed on her first day in the area. Brewing potions was an activity that allowed her to disconnect from the chaos of her life. The owner, a kindly witch with greying hair, greeted her with a warm smile and let her browse the shelves at her leisure. Katya lost herself among the aisles, examining jars and packets of exotic ingredients.

As she wandered, her mind drifted back to the agreement she had made with her father. She would work for the Malfoys for a year, gather information for the Russian Federal Confederation of Magic, and, in the end, she would be free. Free from her family’s influence, far from her brothers and the dark dealings of Borislov Enterprises, free to live the life she chose.

The sound of a conversation interrupted her thoughts. At first, she paid it no attention, but when she heard a deep, familiar voice, she froze—it was Severus Snape. Her heart began to race as she deliberated what to do. She didn’t want to confront him, not there, in such a public place so close to her work. However, before she could move, the wooden floor creaked nearby, and she remained rooted in place, listening to the sound of approaching footsteps.

Peering through the gaps between the potion boxes, Katya spied him. He was a row behind her, dressed in his usual black robes, slightly open to reveal a black jumper underneath and matching trousers. Severus wore a faint frown, as though something had irritated him. Slowly, she tried to move to the next aisle to avoid being seen.

For his part, Professor Snape had woken that morning with a pounding headache and a mood fouler than usual. He had spent two days drowning his frustrations in Firewhisky, a habit he turned to whenever things fell apart.

The cause of his torment was, as always, himself and Dumbledore. The former because he regretted and couldn’t stop dreaming of Katya—a torment that had become exhausting. She invaded his dreams every night, alternating between hurting him and sharing pleasant moments. The dreams had intensified after seeing her at the Malfoy gala, nights ago, in that blue dress. He had dreamt of taking her in a service room, dreamt of bringing her to his home, dreamt of her so vividly that he was certain the woman had cursed him.

And then there was Dumbledore, who had the irksome habit of showing up at his house uninvited. Initially, Severus had no intention of mentioning Katya when asked about the gala, but Albus had noticed his evasive gaze and sensed his hesitation. With characteristic precision, the Headmaster questioned him about Katya, and Severus had no choice but to tell the truth. Severus had been livid when Albus dismissed her as an unnecessary distraction.

"Something tells me Miss Borislova has her own hand in the game,” Albus had said. “If I were you, I’d keep my distance.”

Severus had nodded but found his mind wandering back to her within seconds. Dumbledore had continued talking about rumours of a mass breakout from Azkaban that Hagrid had heard in the forest. He went on to discuss Lupin and how the werewolf was rallying a pack deep within Kielder Forest. Albus confided that they communicated often via Patronuses and that Lupin would need Wolfsbane Potion if he were to return to London and rejoin the Order of the Phoenix. With a pointed but subtle tone, the Headmaster had effectively ordered Severus to mend his treatment of Lupin and prepare the required potions for his next transformation.

And so, there he was, in the Apothecary, grappling with a two-day hangover, sleep deprivation, and what he was sure was an enchantment, all while buying ingredients for a potion meant for a man he detested.

As always, the Apothecary’s atmosphere was thick with pungent aromas and dim lighting, which did nothing to soothe his migraine. Upon entering, the shopkeeper had tried to engage him in conversation about his role as a Hogwarts professor, but he had been curt to the point where she left it at a simple “Good morning, Professor.”

As he moved between the aisles, his gaze caught a pair of eyes watching him from the next shelf. Through the glass of a jar of aconite, Katya Borislova peered at him, as if assessing the situation before deciding whether to approach or flee. Something about her tense posture and darting eyes stirred a mix of unease and longing in Severus. Little did she know, she had already been in his dreams no more than two hours earlier.

Katya, realising he had seen her, tried to hurry toward the exit but tripped on the uneven floor, dropping a glass vial in her hand, which shattered. Severus sighed and, despite his own discomfort, rushed to help her up. Behind him, the shopkeeper let out a shrill cry at the sight of blood dripping from Katya’s hands.

“Oh! I’ll fetch the first aid kit, dear!”

“Are you all right?” Severus asked, his tone harsher than he intended. Clearing his throat, he tried again. “Have you injured yourself badly? Stand up slowly.”

Katya glanced at him sideways, her lips pressed into a firm line and her face tinged with a deep blush.

“Yes, thank you,” she replied curtly, grimacing as she sat on the floor and began picking shards of glass out of her hands.

Severus knelt beside her and wrapped her bleeding hand in a handkerchief.

“No,” she said, her voice cold and cutting. “I’m fine.”

“You’re bleeding, Katya,” he said as he tied the handkerchief around her hand.

“I know,” she retorted, shooting him an irritated look before sighing in defeat.

Severus quickly gathered her scattered belongings, noting the ingredients spilled across the floor. He instantly recognised the components for a Calming Draught. He placed everything back into her basket and held it in his hands. As Katya tried to get to her feet, he offered her his hand. Reluctantly, and with a furrowed brow, she took it. For a moment, their eyes met, and Severus had to resist the urge to brush his fingers against her face.

The shopkeeper, panting slightly, arrived with a small first aid kit. Katya apologised immediately.

“I’m so sorry; I’ll pay for everything,” she assured her.

“There’s nothing to fret about, dear,” the woman replied kindly.

Severus noticed that neither he nor Katya had moved, and it didn’t surprise him when the shopkeeper handed him the first aid kit, likely assuming they were together.

The shopkeeper led them to the counter, where Katya sat as Severus cleaned and bandaged her wounds.

“Preparing for a Calming Draught?” he commented awkwardly, attempting to ease the tension as he finished securing her bandage. Her items sat beside his in the basket.

“That’s none of your business,” she snapped sharply, standing up and swiftly distancing herself from him. “Excuse me, may I use your bathroom?” she asked the shopkeeper. The woman nodded, and Katya quickly disappeared from sight.

Her frosty tone left him momentarily stunned, but he said nothing more. On a whim, he paid for both her purchases and his own. As he waited for her to return, he stepped outside. When Katya emerged and discovered that Severus had already paid for her items and taken them with him, she stormed out of the shop, irritation flashing in her eyes.

Outside, she found him smoking by the side of the shop.

“How are you?” he asked, his gaze piercing as he gestured with his cigarette, offering her one.

“No, I don’t smoke anymore,” she replied curtly. “Now, can you give me my bag? How much did my things cost?” she pressed.

He smirked slightly and handed everything back to her.

“Let me cover it as an apology,” he said. “For how things went the other night.”

Katya rolled her eyes, taking her belongings with precision before turning on her heel to head back to the office. Behind her, Severus began to follow.

“Kat,” he called, prompting her to huff and spin around to face him.

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped.

He gently took her arm and pulled her into a side street, away from prying eyes. Severus was relieved to find the alley deserted at this hour.

“About... about last time... I want you to know that my behaviour in Vienna… I apologise. It was inexcusable,” he said, his voice strained as he struggled to articulate his remorse.

Katya paused and looked at him slowly. For a brief moment, something soft crossed her features, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

“Yes, it was,” she replied, her voice neutral, giving him no indication of whether she had forgiven him or not.

The silence between them stretched until Severus, unable to contain his curiosity, finally voiced the question that had plagued him since seeing her at the Malfoy gala.

“Why did you take a job here? Why with the Malfoys?”

“That’s none of your business, but as I explained at the manor, it’s just a job,” she snapped, irritation lacing her words. “I certainly didn’t plan or want to run into you.”

“You’re telling me it’s just a coincidence?” he asked, incredulous.

Katya nodded.

“How long will you be here?” he pressed.

Katya avoided his gaze, her expression closed off.

“That’s also none of your business,” she retorted.

Severus clenched his jaw, frustration simmering within him.

"You’re playing a dangerous game, Katya," he warned her. "They… are not good company."

"And you are?" She raised an eyebrow, then snorted. "I don’t understand what you have against them. I thought they were even friends of yours."

"They’re not my friends," he interrupted, his tone sharp.

"Then why were you at the gala? Are you going to tell me it’s not them who always want to set you up with someone?"

The question caught him off guard, not because it wasn’t true, but because she remembered their letter exchanges. For a moment, he wanted to believe that Katya wasn’t a stranger to him, that she was still the young woman he had slowly fallen in love with.

"My reasons are of no importance to you."

"Of course not, I must tell you, but gods forgive me, if you tell me anything more. As always." Katya let out a bitter laugh. She took a step back, as if wanting to put some physical distance between them.

Severus felt a knot of uncertainty in his stomach. What was really going on with her? Could it be that Katya was involved in something darker? But wasn’t that the same doubt she seemed to harbour about him? The mistrust between them was palpable, yet there was something in her gaze, in the way her eyes seemed to search for his despite everything, that disarmed him.

The young woman snorted and began to leave the alleyway, heading back to her work.

"I’ll take you to Gringotts," he said, returning to her side, as though it was a way to not part from her.

Katya raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback.

"I don’t need an escort, Severus."

"I insist," Severus replied, starting to walk without waiting for her response.

The journey to the bank was silent. Every step was loaded with the latent tension between them, as if either one were waiting for the other to speak first. Severus wanted to ask more, he wanted to know how her year had gone without talking, why she hadn’t replied to the letters, whether she had even read them, but he knew any attempt would be rejected. Katya, for her part, was wrestling with her own thoughts. She couldn’t allow Severus to discover the truth about her time in England, but it was also hard for her to ignore the resentment his presence stirred within her. Part of her also wanted him to tell her if he had thought of her all this time, if he had any hint of regret over how things had ended in Vienna.

Finally, as they reached the imposing doors of Gringotts, Severus stopped.

"Have a good day," he said quietly, his words carrying an ambiguous meaning that Katya couldn’t interpret.

She looked at him, her eyes searching for something on his face. Finally, she nodded, although her expression remained distant.

"Thank you," she said coldly, with formal detachment, before turning to enter the bank.

Severus watched her walk away, his mind filled with unanswered questions. There was something about Katya that didn’t add up, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Perhaps it was him, tormented by his own guilt, for abandoning the path he could have walked beside her.

From the second floor of Flourish and Blotts, Narcissa Malfoy watched the pair reach the bank’s door and part ways. Pleased, she smiled as she saw Severus massaging his temple, looking somewhat disturbed. She knew Severus and was familiar with that tic he had when he was visibly uncomfortable with a situation.

She wondered if there was more that he was hiding. Clearly, Lucius had been right—something had happened between them during those Potion Masters’ Assemblies. The young Borlislova couldn’t be more than ten years younger than Severus, but something told her there was potential in that strange pair.