One Saturday Afternoon
Saturday. Saturday meant no classes. It meant grading, planning, doing all sorts of long and tiring things. But then, there was the well-deserved afternoon tea in Severus' lab, as the man had never had any intention of being polite and cease working when Minerva visited. But she did not mind – she found it calming, and she enjoyed watching him brew, and talking about the weather, and making the most absurd statements he would all approve because he definitely was not listening. They even had a little tradition, that only years of careful practice and mutual respect has made possible: she would come in, put the tea tray on the nearest table, pushing everything away, then turn over, sigh, and walk up to Severus. He would raise his eyebrows, and she would tie his hair into a perfect ponytail: they never spoke of it, but they both enjoyed it, and somehow it was one of the mainstays of their friendship.
This particular afternoon, the familiar scene had taken place as usual until Minerva had taken interest into Severus' brewing. The odour emanating from the cauldron had arouse her curiosity; the potions master was working on a thick, paste like mixture, that looked very much like melted soap. She frowned.
"Is that supposed to be for the hospital wing?"
He nodded – "Yes, I wish to create a healing balm, as apparently some first years have been complaining about the taste of some of the potions, and Albus would rather have me work than tell them to stop behaving like spoiled kids."
Minerva found it amusing: she knew Severus could have said no, and yet here he was, spending his afternoon experimenting so he could improve the students' comfort. But she would not tell him.
However, he gave her an annoyed look, and she wondered if she had not been thinking too loudly.
"I think it smells delightful, actually. May I have some?"
"What for? I am just testing a few things. It is not going to work."
But she had already picked up a ladle from one of his cupboards, gazing at the cauldron expectantly.
He folded his arms.
"It is the perfume, Severus. The mixture of herbs you chose is bewitching."
"Well, at least the students will not complain about this."
She carefully retrieved some of the white substance from the cauldron, put the ladle down, brought a jar, and filled it to the brim. It was another privilege she had, to purposely distract Severus when he was experimenting, and to watch him half-smile during the whole process. It was what they were here for.
"Are you done yet?", he asked, faking annoyance as she very carefully moved the jar to the left. "Please do not burn yourself."
"It is solidifying as it cools down", she remarked, very interested.
It was Severus' turn to be curious. He moved to her side and carefully touched the substance with one nail. Indeed, what had been liquid now looked very still, even when he shook the jar.
"That is annoying", he said under his breath.
"I find it rather amusing."
"Certainly, but this cannot happen when you apply the balm. It would be most unpractical."
"I have another idea…" Minerva said suddenly, sounding very much like a fifth year up to no good. "Candle wicks, Severus."
He sighed, but still vanished at the back of the lab while she was heating the jar again so the substance would become more malleable. It did instantly. Severus came back with the long stems in one hand a rather large jar in the second: if work was off the table, he would evidently team up with Minerva and go along with whatever she was planning.
Candle making, apparently.
Their first try was a success. The fire slowly melted the wax, and a powerful smell of lavender rose into the lab – even Severus was not displeased, for he started brewing a batch of the same substance, and when he was done, brought it to Minerva with a large number of herbal extracts, dried flowers and other perfumes so she could make them herself, or simply decorate the top of each candle. Then she asked for dyes, which he brought her from the kitchen: by this time it was already dark outside, and he had completely forgotten about his weekly game of chess with Albus. He was captivated – so was she, and the lab had been transformed into a giant chandelier. Some smells were terrible, and wasted candles had been tossed to the side while the best ones were slowly and peacefully burning everywhere around the room. And they were not finished.
"Severus, you may think I came down because I was wondering why you were late, but it is actually a student who brought to my attention that a strong smell of - I cannot even put my finger on it – well anyway, the entire castle smells as if –"
Albus stopped talking as he passed the door frame; his two colleagues lifted their heads, their hands covered in multicoloured stains and clothes definitely ruined. Not that he could see it, blinded as he was by the sudden brightness of the room, and half suffocated.
"What did you do?!" he asked, dumbfounded.
Minerva's laughter was his first answer.
"I think we have started a business, haven't we, Severus?"
The potions master could barely take his eyes off the jar he was working on.
"A very successful one, I am sure", he added, grinning.