|Scene Title||Crocodile's Tongue?|
|Synopsis||Sio visits her professor again; bent on trouble.|
|Date||Oct 08, 1994|
|Watch For||Ancient Runes, rude invasions and Slytherin double-talk|
|Logger||The Bad Wolf Herself|
Severus Snape does have quarters within the Castle - or so people believe given that he does live there and the other teachers have rooms. But where it is could be described as one of the great mysteries of Hogwarts and the idea that Snape ever goes there could be in doubt given that he seems to always be stalking the halls or lurking in his office. Tonight is no exception, curfew and the threat of his wrath confining all but the most trusted and foolhardy students to their Common Rooms. Unless, of course, he has made an exception.
Siobhan, the decidedly odd Slytherin seventh-year, has been in her time described as both trusted - by a few - and foolhardy - by many. Which one is in effect tonight can hardly be certain. Still, the late hour finds her padding quietly through the dungeon corridors, feeling a bit of deja-vu. Didn't she /just/ do this? But, if needs must… As she approaches the door she needs, Sio raises one hand and knocks in the same pattern as before; three swift, a pause and two more swift taps.
And again the door to Snape's office opens just like it did the night before, although as it does the Potions Master appears to be in the process of hiding something away. What it is could be anyone's guess, although the brief glimpse shows that it is a length of parchment with intricate drawings upon it - a lot like building plans. And in one corner, a set of ancient, runic letters that appear to say 'Azkaban'.
The parchment hidden away, Snape lifts his eyes to look at Siobhan, "Noble."
"Professor." It's a simple greeting, but her smile softens the edges where Snape's does not. Settling herself in the same chair she used last time, she arches a brow at those plans, but holds her tongue until she hears the 'snick' of the door closing behind her. "Interesting bit of late night reading, Professor. Planning a vacation?" Her tone of voice and the cast of her head tell someone who's paid her any amount of attention to her habits that she's teasing, but it's light enough to be brushed off if he's not in the mood to be playful. What? Even Slytherins have fun.
"I highly doubt it," comes Snape's simplistic answer, not elaborating on exactly why he may have had the plans laid out before him, "What is it that brings you here again? New revelations? Malfoy has seen an army of giants this time?"
Siobhan snorts in wry amusement - though whether it's at his first or second sentence is anyone's guess. "That's not a bad thought, Professor, but no. Malfoy actually has nothin' to do with my being here this time." Her grin widens a little and she pulls out a small sheet of parchment from the pocket of her jeans - no uniform this time. Scanning it briefly, she hands it over. "I need these ingredients, just enough for one dose. I figured I'd ask you first." Rather, of course, than just taking them, which /had/ crossed her mind.
"Some of these aren't available in the student stores," Snape points out, running a bony finger down the list, "But then, you would know that if you're requesting them. And because you'd know that, you'd also know that I do not readily hand out items from my personal store - you could make a number of highly-regulated potions with these."
"I could, yes," Siobhan admits readily. "I could also use them as wall hangings, a bit of indoor decoration. Crocodile-tongue doorstops are all the rage, you see." With a cheeky little grin, the seventh-year shifts her weight again, curling her legs up underneath her. "But now that you mention it, the potion bit does sound more fun."
"You seem bent on trouble," Snape says flatly, steeping his fingers before his face and staring at her, "What would you need the Think Aloud Tonic for, Noble?"
That seems to please her greatly, if the growth of her grin is any indication. "I live for it, sir." Siobhan meets her professor's gaze evenly, completely unashamed. "Are you sure you want to know, sir? Plausible deniability can be a life-saver."
"I know that you're planning to brew the Tonic and that you'll be looking to acquire the supplies from my stores. The chance for plausible deniability has passed. Why do you want the potion?"
Snape ensnares Siobhan in that black, cold stare that seems to peel away layers of thought in search of interior motivation. Brows furrowing, thin lip curling slightly.
There's a token resistance, but Siobhan folds easily, allowing him access to the most recent memories - those pertaining to this particular assignment. "You do realize how rude, that is, right?" Images flash behind her eyes as words jumble over each other. The potion, the prank, the plan, those involved, her irritation with Zarina, her casual flirtation with Crane, the feeling of freedom as she flew breakneck speeds over the pitch, the sense of release from the earth and all the problems that existed down there. As they both start to go further back, she starts fighting. There's no way she'll be able to force him away, but she can, at least, delay his progress. Teeth clenched and fingers gripping the arms of her chair until the knuckles turn white, she does her best.
"I'm well aware."
The usual gaps that a Legilimens leaves that enable the subject to peek back are thoroughly sealed by Snape, his own mind a solid wall keeping her well and truly out. He ceases the intrusion at once, having learned what he sought to learn - or at least, as much as he needs to extract with Legilimency.
"I will not tolerate fighting within the House," he warns at last.
Out of breath and feeling as though she'd just run a race, Siobhan snaps back without even thinking. "How do you rummage through my head and /still/ have the wrong idea?" She rests her head in her hands for a moment to try and dull the ache. Maybe fighting back was not the best idea she'd ever had. "Could you at least give me warning next time?" She doesn't even /bother/ asking for the courtesy of a verbal explanation, knowing it would be an exercise in futility. Shuddering once - she does /not/ like people in her head - Sio straightens up and pushes her hair back off of her face. "There is no fighting within the House." She sounds calmer now. "It's retaliation against the Ravenclaw who drugged and dropped me down the stairs and put up posters for that anti-Slytherin paper." Fingers rub at the back of her neck and she half-shrugs. "I sort of thought they were a joke, but it bothered Stephen enough to find the potion and I've a score to settle too, so." Another shrug, this time accompanied by that irrepressible grin. "Two birds with one stone."
Snape offers Siobhan a flat look that suggests everything has gone as he wished it to despite the fact that it does not appear that way at all. Hands still steeped before him, he eyes her from behind a loose strand of black hair.
"There is rarely warning in real life - you'd be better served to learn that. As for in-fighting, I refer to your obvious annoyance with Zanford. You had best keep such things in check."
Siobhan rolls her eyes heavenward and sighs the deep breath of the much put-upon. "The only reason you saw it was because you were in my head. Do you honestly think I'm that stupid? As much as she irritates me, we have enough problems coping with the rest of the school; she certainly doesn't need me out to get her too." Not that it'll stop Sio if Zarina strays too far out of line, but those things don't always need to be said. Besides, there's a smart way to do things. Despite having to explain herself, the young snake seems still to be at ease. As for the warnings: "I'm working on it." She's clever, not a genius - and Occlumency is /hard/.
And Snape is making no effort to teach her how to make an easier time of it, simply arching a brow at her - the arguments fail to faze him. Like water on infuriating rock.
It takes Siobhan a moment or two of Snape's pervasive silence to catch on, but when she does, she laughs. No, really. She /laughs/. "If I locked you in a room with my mother, I'd be hard-pressed to say who'd drive the other mental first." Apparently that's a rather impressive compliment, not that Snape would know…unless he /knew/ her mother - and isn't that a terrible thought? "You're quite good. I think if I hadn't grown up with her, that silent stare might actually drive me into St. Mungo's." There's that cheeky grin again. Never down for long, this one. At least that's one thing that can be said for her. "Those ingredients, Professor; may I have them or not?"
"If you really want them," Snape points out after another long period of silence, "I doubt that the door to the stores will keep you from them for long." He seems to offer only that by way of an answer.
Siobhan's grin turns wicked. "It's nice to know you understand me so well, Professor." Still, there's one more thing on her agenda for the evening. "What evenings will the Potions lab be free? Stephen doesn't trust me to brew the thing - paranoid little bugger - so he and Zarina need time and I figured that'd be the safest place to leave it." Stupid multi-day brewing time.
"Wednesday," comes Snape's answer, followed by another long period of silence and an even stare.
Siobhan this time matches Snape silence for silence; even stare for even stare. It's a multi-day potion. He could recognize it from three ingrediants, surely he knows how it's made.
"Wednesday evening … the rear storage cupboard is rarely used," Snape points out, revealing that very even tidbit of information, "Is there anything more?"
"Not really, no sir." Rising from her chair, Siobhan stretches for a moment, looking pensive, and then turns towards the door… Only to turn right back around - apparently decided. "If I may, sir, I'd suggest a better code than runes. I trust you, but most people'd get a bit suspicious if they walk in to seein' papers marked 'Azkaban' quickly put away." It's a casual declaration of trust and a subtle way to say that yes, she knows what she saw and a friendly suggestion, all rolled into one. Very much Siobhan's style; layers of meaning in just one set of words.
Snape simply arches an eyebrow at Siobhan once again, saying nothing in reply. Betraying nothing of what he might think of the suggestion. The door does open, though.
Figuring that's about all the response she should have expected, Siobhan responds to that arched brow with a single, deep nod. "Have a pleasant evening, Professor." If the words are somewhat lacking in her usual joie de vivre, at least her parting smile hasn't leaves nothing to be desired. She closes the door quietly on her way out.