there’s only the two of us

Two weeks. That's when they meet again, at a staff meeting in the late evening. Leonora, clearly annoyed and bothered about being forced to attend, slouches in her chair at the round table. The air in the room crackles with tension, and her sharp gaze darts around the room, sparing little patience for the gathering of Hogwarts faculty.

The atmosphere in the room is thick with a mixture of stifled murmurs and the occasional scraping of chairs as the staff assembles for the meeting. Leonora's displeasure is clearly noticeable and she puts no effort into even attempting to hide it; her narrowed eyes and the slight curl of her lip betray her irritation.

Clarissa, seated a few places away, observes Leonora's demeanor with a mixture of curiosity and caution. Their brief encounter in the Great Hall still lingers in the air, a tension that now extends to the professional setting of the staff meeting.

As the staff settles into their seats, Professor McGonagall, the stern and authoritative headmistress, takes her place at the head of the round table. Her gaze sweeps across the room, settling momentarily on Leonora, whose disgruntled posture is impossible to ignore.

"Good evening, everyone. I trust you all had productive weeks," McGonagall begins, her voice cutting through the ambient tension. "Before we proceed, I must address a matter of utmost importance. Recent reports indicate unusual activity in the Forbidden Forest. I strongly advise all members of the staff to avoid venturing there until further notice."

Leonora, slouched in her chair, remains impassive, her gaze fixed on McGonagall. The mention of the Forbidden Forest elicits a flicker of interest in her eyes. It's common knowledge among the staff that Leonora frequents the forest to collect rare ingredients for her potions. McGonagall, aware of this habit, directs her next words pointedly at the Transfiguration professor.

"Professor Lesso," McGonagall addresses Leonora directly, "I understand the importance of your work and, tied to that, your research, but I cannot stress enough the need for caution. The safety of our staff is paramount, and the Forbidden Forest poses significant risks, especially in these times. To you and to anyone else in this room."

Leonora meets McGonagall's gaze with a stoic expression, acknowledging the warning with only a nod. The unspoken tension in the room intensifies, emphasizing the discord that exists not only between Leonora and Clarissa but also between Leonora and the cautious authority of the Hogwarts headmistress.

After the official meeting concludes, Professor McGonagall discreetly signals for Leonora to remain behind. The other staff members file out, leaving the two women alone in the dimly lit room.

"Leonora," McGonagall begins with a tone that conveys both concern and urgency. "I need to speak with you about a matter that requires utmost discretion."

Leonora, intrigued by the gravity of McGonagall's demeanor, straightens in her chair, her annoyance momentarily replaced by curiosity. Her cane rests between her legs and slim fingers stroke the handle, a detailed replica of a dragon’s head.

"A centaur has been attacked, and there are signs of a potentially dangerous magical creature," McGonagall explains, her eyes searching Leonora's for a reaction.

Leonora's interest is piqued at the mention of a magical creature. The Forbidden Forest has always been a source of fascination for her and the prospect of encountering a new and possibly dangerous beast stirs her curiosity. She is a frequent visitor, not only on simple strolls in the afternoon but to collect commonly found ingredients used in potions. 

"I've already informed Professor Snape about the situation," McGonagall continues, choosing her words carefully. "I suspect he'll be reaching out to you soon. In the meantime, I need your assistance in preparing the hospital wing. We must stock up on potions to treat injuries and poisonings that may result from encounters with this creature."

McGonagall's words hang in the air and Leonora, sensing the seriousness of the situation, just nods. The idea of a potential new beast is intriguing, especially with the added mystery around it. As McGonagall talks about the dangers and the need to be careful, Leonora's mind kicks into gear. Thoughts of rare ingredients, tinkering with experimental potions, and the allure of the Forbidden Forest start swirling in her head, almost making her drowsy.

However, as the headmistress observes the spark of interest in Leonora's eyes, she senses the familiar glint of fascination with danger. Knowing Leonora's background as a former Death Eater and her current role as a Potion Mistress, she feels a twinge of concern.

"Leonora," McGonagall cautions, her voice carrying the weight of experience and genuine worry, "I understand the allure of the unknown, especially for someone with your expertise. But I cannot stress enough to exercise extreme caution. The Forbidden Forest is unpredictable and this creature, whatever it may be, poses a serious threat. Your safety is of paramount importance to not only the school itself but the whole wizarding world.” 

Leonora, however, betrays a subtle smirk, her ego and penchant for danger evidently playing a significant role in her response. "Minerva,” she begins, “I assure you, I'm more than capable of handling myself. I've faced far greater threats in the past, my previous employer being one of them. I’m sure you’re well aware of that."

“I am also well aware of your prowess and the pride that accompanies it,” she replies and sighs with a mix of resignation and concern. "I don't doubt your abilities, Leonora, but even the most skilled witches and wizards can be caught off guard. Please, be vigilant. The safety of the staff is my primary concern."

Leonora gives a dismissive nod, her ego undeterred by McGonagall's warning. As the headmistress exits the room, the weight of the impending danger seems to only fuel Leonora's excitement, her mind already racing with thoughts of the Forbidden Forest and the potential encounter with a magical creature. Still absorbed in thoughts of the Forbidden Forest, the redhead senses a subtle disturbance in the air, a shift in the energy of the room. With a swift, fluid motion, she turns and, to her not-so-surprise, finds Clarissa, concealed by a spell that has now dissolved under Leonora's wand.

Caught off guard and with wide eyes, she stammers, "I-I didn't mean to listen. I just wanted to catch you alone to apologize for what happened in the Great Hall the other day.”

Leonora regards Clarissa with a cold, assessing gaze. The apology catches her off guard, momentarily softening her expression. However, the realization that someone has overheard sensitive information quickly replaces any hint of forgiveness.

"You should know better than to eavesdrop, Professor Dovey," Leonora states sharply, her tone laced with a warning. "Do you have any idea what kind of danger you could be putting yourself in? This is not a matter to be taken lightly."

Clarissa, feeling trapped and remorseful, tries to explain, "I didn't plan on hearing anything. I just wanted to apologize and—"

Leonora interrupts, her voice cutting sharply through Clarissa's explanation, "Apologies won't protect you in the Forbidden Forest. It's not a place for the unprepared, and I won't have you jeopardizing your safety because of a misplaced sense of guilt. Stay away from the forest, Dovey, unless you want to find yourself facing something or someone far more dangerous than me” she hisses. “Or hurt feelings."

With a final, stern warning, Leonora turns away, leaving Clarissa behind.

“Leonora, wait!”

Leonora halts at Clarissa's desperate plea, her expression unyielding. The concern in Clarissa's eyes seems genuine, prompting a moment of contemplation from the Potion Mistress.

"Protecting the students is my responsibility," Leonora replies, her tone firm. "I will ensure the hospital wing is well-stocked with potions for any injuries or poisonings. The staff will be briefed on precautions. As for the students, they should be warned to avoid the Forbidden Forest at all costs."

Clarissa nods earnestly, relief evident in her features. "If there's anything I can do to help—"

"Stay out of the forest," Leonora interrupts, not allowing more than a second for Dovey to speak up. "You're not equipped for what's in there, trust me on that. And I am far from being interested in saving your life if you decide to take matters into your own hands and deal with it yourself." 

Leonora's words carry a harsh finality, emphasizing the severity of the danger lurking in the Forbidden Forest. The unyielding tone in her voice leaves little room for negotiation. Clarissa, though relieved to hear of Leonora's efforts to protect the students, can't shake the weight of the stern warning. She swallows hard, realizing the gravity of the situation.

"I... I understand," Clarissa stammers, her eagerness tempered by the seriousness of Leonora's words. "I won't venture into the forest. I just wanted to make sure we're doing everything we can to keep everyone safe."

Leonora regards her with a measured gaze, a hint of impatience in her eyes. "Safety requires adherence to instructions, not reckless heroics. If you truly want to help, make sure the students are informed and vigilant. Leave the rest to those who know how to handle it. The head of the house will inform the students and you have nothing other to do than your job."

Two weeks later, on a Friday as evening descends, Clarissa gathers her resolve and knocks on the door of Leonora Lesso's office. The echoes of her gentle rap resonate through the corridor and she waits with a sense of anticipation for the door to swing open. 

When it does, it reveals Leonora, hunched over a desk cluttered with parchment and potion ingredients. She glances up with a furrowed brow at the interruption. The weariness etched across her features is unmistakable, but it is nearly impossible for the other woman to guess the cause of it.

"Clarissa, what is it?" Leonora's voice is curt, and her gaze doesn't linger on the Transfiguration professor. Instead, it shifts back to the essay in front of her.

"May I have a moment?" Clarissa inquires, her expression earnest. "I wanted to discuss the students. They've been coming to me with their fears about the Forbidden Forest, and I think providing them with more information might help ease their nerves?"

Leonora, wincing as she shifts in her chair, glances at Clarissa with a mixture of annoyance and fatigue. "Dovey, I'm not in the mood for this. I have other pressing matters to attend to, and I certainly don't need to be bothered with comforting scared children."

Clarissa, undeterred by the dismissive tone, persists, "I understand, but these students are genuinely frightened. A few words from someone they trust could go a long way in reassuring them and I’m not asking you to take time out of your day to do it, I’d just need to know what to say."

Leonora scowls, a combination of pain and frustration evident in her features. "As I said before, I don't have time for this. The Forbidden Forest is dangerous, and if they're scared, it's for a good reason. I suggest you tell them to stay away and focus on their studies. Now, if you don't mind, I have work to do."

“Leonora—”

“I told you to get out!” she suddenly bursts out, chest heaving and fingers gripping the edge of her desk. Her words echo through the room, a sharp release of the pain that had been building beneath the surface. Her usually controlled demeanor crumbles, and the intensity of her suffering is laid bare. The lines on her forehead deepen and the knuckles of her clenched fists turn white as she struggles to contain the agony inside of her.

As a result to the noise the door to Leonora's office creaks open, and — much to Clarissa’s surprise — nobody but former Potion Professor Severus Snape himself emerges from the shadows of her private lab. His dark eyes, always observant, meet Clarissa briefly, acknowledging her presence with a solemn nod before redirecting his attention to the distressed Potion Mistress. The gesture carries a weight of authority and a tacit understanding that extends beyond their roles at Hogwarts. It's not every day that a figure with Snape's reputation casually appears in the midst of everyday Hogwarts affairs. 

However, Leonora does not seem phased and, with her breathing ragged and shoulders trembling with the effort to maintain composure, doesn't resist as her former mentor approaches. His presence alone seems to offer a degree of solace and familiarity and Clarissa can only wonder how much time they have spent together in the past. With a gentleness not often associated with him, Severus extends an arm, a strong hand curling around the redhead’s elbow to support Leonora as she rises from her chair. “To the couch.”

Clarissa watches silently as Severus guides Leonora towards the fireplace, the weight of concern etched across his features. 

Once Leonora is settled the dark haired man hovers nearby. Clarissa, though taken aback by his unexpected presence, senses the understanding between the two professors. Another thought crosses her mind — the brief eye contact between them might actually be enough to communicate through thoughts alone.

Severus's dark gaze flickers toward Clarissa, a moment of contemplation passing over his features. After a brief pause, he exhales and gestures for her to approach him. Once there, he speaks up with his voice low and commanding. "Keep this to yourself," he says, the request carrying authority. "I expect utmost discretion. Not a word to anyone, not even Minerva."

Leonora, caught trying to manage her pain, is too preoccupied to react to Severus' request and judging by the lack of it she is far from caring about anything, even Clarissa. The uneven rhythm of her breathing is proof of her efforts to stay conscious and in control, but when her slender hand begins to feel for Severus the blonde woman sees panic in her eyes. 

“Sir” Dovey mumbles and redirects the former Potions professor’s focus to the other woman. 

Severus, maintaining his composure, produces a potion for Leonora. As she swallows it, a hand over his, he swiftly brings the corner of a throw blanket between her teeth, anticipating the numbing scream that bursts out of her just moments later. Leonora's body suddenly tenses and spasms, teeth clenching and biting down, and the room is filled with the sounds of her pain.

Despite her initial surprise Clarissa moves into action. "What can I do?" she asks, concern growing inside of her. Severus, focused on Leonora, gestures toward the woman’s desk where additional potions are stored. "Find a clear potion, labeled as the Draught of Living Death. She needs to stay sedated until the worst of it passes.” 

Clarissa, now fully aware of the gravity of the situation, hurries to the desk and locates the specified potion in one of the drawers. The label, decorated with Leonora’s neat handwriting, confirms its identity and she carefully measures a dosage under Severus's watchful eye.

The man nods, just once, cupping her jaw surprisingly gently before pressing his thumbs against it to force it open, just wide enough for Clarissa to administer the Draught of Living Death. When the sedative potion begins to take effect, the tension in Leonora's body eases like waves after a storm, her breathing becoming more rhythmic as her limbs grow too heavy to move.

Satisfied with the outcome, he releases Leonora's jaw — thumbs smoothing over the now red spots that are forming where he pressed down on the skin — and stands. Without uttering a word, he brings one arm under Leonora’s back, hand resting securely on her rib, and the other under her knees to pick her up. Clarissa watches in silence as Severus carries Leonora with a practiced ease to the connected bedroom, his movements efficient and gentle. 

"I will leave her in your care," the former Potion Professor says, his tone softer than usual, softer than Clarissa has ever imagined it to be. "Ensure she rests. The effects of the potions will last for several hours, most likely until tomorrow evening and even then she might still struggle to stay alert. Do not disturb her unless absolutely necessary.”

With that he exits the room, leaving Clarissa alone with the unconscious form of Leonora Lesso. The soft flicker of candlelight casts a warm glow on Leonora's face as she lies unconscious on the bed. Seated by her side, the blonde woman observes the rise and fall of her chest, the subtle movements indicating the rhythm of a deep slumber induced by the potent potions. This isn’t what she wanted when she knocked on the woman’s door mere minutes ago, but it is what she got and she won’t leave her alone. 

Reaching for the comforter Clarissa drags it over Leonora’s fully clothed body before she summons a chair from the living room and gets as comfortable as possible by the side of the bed. Later, when she is sure the redhead is sleeping properly, she will relocate to the couch for the night. 

Eventually, around an hour later, Clarissa decides it's time to move, leaving Leonora undisturbed in her healing slumber. As she rises from the chair, she casts a glance at the sleeping professor. With a final, gentle touch to Leonora's shoulder, Clarissa reaches for her wand. After a short flick she can feel the other woman's pulse in her own body, subtle but there, as well as her breathing that is more elaborated but noticeable. Satisfied with the magical connection that has been established to monitor her, she heads to the living room, sleep and exhaustion tugging on her. 

The next afternoon, Clarissa wakes up on the couch, the connection to her colleague alerting her to subtle shifts in the redhead's state. As consciousness returns, she feels the lingering fatigue from the night, but her concern for the other woman overrides any personal discomfort and she decides to get up. Straightening her clothes and fixing her hair with just a little bit of magic Clarissa is ready to tackle the remains of the day.

Leonora stirs in the connected bedroom, and the magical link amplifies the signals of pain from her. Clarissa, alerted and instantly worried, hurries to her side to find the Potion Mistress still in the grip of terrible and utter discomfort. The stiffness in her body is evident and even the slightest movement seems to send waves of agony through her.

"Leonora," Clarissa says softly, her voice filled with genuine concern. "Is there anything I can do to help?

Leonora's response is a grimace of pain. The words that then escape her lips are measured but laced with urgency. "Fetch Severus."

She retrieves her wand and, with a flick, sends a Patronus in the form of a swan to deliver the message to Severus Snape. The silvery form of the messenger vanishes into the air, leaving Clarissa to focus on the other woman as they wait. She watches helplessly as Leonora attempts to sit up, her face showing nothing but pain with each movement.

"Let me help you" Clarissa offers quietly, reaching out with a supportive hand.

Leonora hesitates for a moment before accepting the assistance. With her colleague’s hand resting against her back  she manages to sit up on the edge of the bed. The room is filled with the heavy breaths Leonora takes as a result, attempting to regain control over her body. The anticipation for Severus's arrival hangs in the air and Clarissa can't help but feel a sense of helplessness as she is forced to watch Leonora suffer. “I—” she begins, but the other woman interrupts her.

"Thank you," Leonora murmurs instead, her voice strained but appreciative. “You don’t have to wait.” 

“I’m not leaving until he’s here, no matter how long it takes. You can barely sit.”

The wait for Severus feels like an eternity, but when the door finally creaks open and he enters, his gaze immediately asserts the situation. His usual stern expression carries concern as he approaches his former student and without a word he takes in the stiffness in her movements, the lines of pain etched on her features.

"What happened?" the man asks, his tone tinged with genuine worry.

Leonora, still grappling with the pain, manages to convey the essence of the situation. "Leg's acting up, worse than before” she presses out before gasping for air again, hand gripping the sheets until her knuckles turn white.

Severus nods, understands, and he moves with practiced efficiency. From the folds of his robes the man draws different vials, labeled and unlabeled ones, as Clarissa watches silently. 

He administers a combination of pain-relieving and healing potions to Leonora, his movements precise, before his hand finds the woman’s neck and he lowers her back against the pillow. As the potions take effect Leonora's body gradually begins to relax, tension easing from her as she allows herself to take deeper breaths. The relief is palpable for all of them and a rare expression of gratitude flickers in Leonora's eyes as she looks at Severus. Just this is proof enough to Clarissa that there is more to her than what she displays, kindness and a warm heart, hidden underneath the facade of a relentless and focused researcher and professor.

The former Potion Master, despite his gruff exterior, seems to acknowledge the unspoken thanks. "Rest," he instructs, his voice softer than usual. "The potions will take some time to work. Stay in bed today, I will let Minerva know that you won’t be teaching anytime soon."

Leonora nods, accepting the guidance — albeit not happy about having to restrain from her lab — and her gaze shifts to Clarissa. "Thank you," she murmurs, the vulnerability in her voice betraying the stoic exterior.

Clarissa simply nods in response, understanding the gravity of the moment. As Severus retreats from the room and disappears into the hallway, Leonora reclines on the bed, her body finally finding relief from the relentless pain. 

“There is no need for you to stay” the Potions Professor says quietly after a few moments of silence. “I can manage.” 

“Are you sure? I don’t mind, really.”

“Yes. His potions tend to be rather—” she pauses before continuing carefully, “brutal, and I have no desire to be seen crawling to the bathroom to relieve my stomach of its acid in front of you.” 

This time, no matter how severe the situation is, Clarissa can’t help but chuckle at the dryness of the woman’s words. “I understand. Still, if you need help don’t hesitate to reach out.”