Have Faith
xoXOXox
Severus made his way into the Great Hall via the staff room today. He had slept poorly, nightmares of opening himself up only to be rejected over and over again keeping him from having any ounce of energy today. He was looking forward to a cup of coffee for once and a scone or two. He just needed a little time to recenter and he would be okay. Sitting down in his customary seat at the end of the table, he looked out into the hall, eyes zeroing in on where Hermione sat.
His heart skipped as he noticed neither she nor any of the Gryffindors were in their place. It seemed only the little bastard Weasley was still in his usual place. And he was completely alone. Casting about, he found Mr. Longbottom and Miss Lovegood situated at the Ravenclaw table with Miss Brown between them. Though her eyes were a bit red, she was laughing at something Longbottom was saying, his hand gestures wild and erratic, dragging the Patil twins into the joke with an eyebrow wiggle. Good. They would help her faster than any spell or potion ever could in ridding herself of her heartbreak.
Mr. Seamus and Mr. Thomas seemed to have found a home at the Hufflepuff table, chatting away to a few seventh year witches who were completely enthralled with whatever they were discussing. He was a little surprised. He didn’t realize either boy was close enough to any of the other Gryfinndors to take a side after such a display.
Continuing his searching, he finally found her and breathed a sigh of relief. She was sitting, of all places, at the Slytherin table between Draco and Theodore. Potter and Miss Weasley were sitting across from them and the four looked to be deep in conversation about something a bit too serious for so early in the day. He could only imagine it had something to do with what had happened the day before. He knew the friendship with Hermione and Potter was still new and fragile for his godson and he hoped this was a chance for him to break out of the mold his father had poured around him and allowed him to find who he really wanted to be on his own.
She looked very studious today. Her hair was pulled up in a messy, cascading updo of curls. The eighth years were allowed to wear normal clothes, though they did have to keep their house robes on them during the day. Today, she wore a soft cashmere sweater of the lightest eggshell blue. It made her golden skin glow. He couldn’t see them but if he had to guess, she had paired it with a pair of white or khaki trousers that would hug her curves just so without being provocative. The ever consummate student.
She was beautiful.
Those same fears and insecurities rose in his chest, choking down the warmth he had enjoyed not that many hours ago. He didn’t deserve someone like her. She was all soft sighs and brilliant light and warm smiles. He was dark smirks and sharp angles and sarcastic barbs. They were polar opposites of each other and no matter how many people tried to use the ‘opposites attract' theory to explain why they would make the perfect match, he couldn’t find a shred of hope now. Just looking at her hurt.
He started to look away only to be caught in her amber gaze. Her lips tipped up in a half-smile, head nodding in his direction as she did every morning. It took him longer than usual to nod back and her smile slipped to be replaced with a soft frown. He read her question in the way she raised her eyebrow but he just shook his head before breaking the connection to pour himself some much needed coffee. He would get his shit together before his first class of the day. He couldn’t afford to have any cauldrons blow apart on his watch.
xoXOXox
He felt like this day was never going to end. His last class of the day was seventh and eighth year Hufflepuff/Ravenclaws. Watching them brew, he knew he didn’t have to worry too much about any of them. Though the Puffs were a bit too soft for his liking, they all stayed true in their attention when in his class and the Claws were too meticulous to allow their potion to be ruined. It was a nice chance to sit back and let the headache that was brewing behind his eyes rest.
He thought back to his third period. The class had been very tense. Though the Slytherin and Gryffindor rivalry was still very much alive, a lot of the old angst had dissolved with the end of the war and the leaders of each group sitting down and having several heart to hearts over the summer as the castle was being rebuilt. Though not all of the bad blood was gone, it was much more manageable.
It had started out fairly normal as everyone came in and began to take their seats. All the way up until Miss Brown had moved to sit beside Mr. Nott instead of her usual seat next to Mr. Weasley. The redhead had frowned, catching her arm and with a pathetic, ‘You’re supposed to be sitting with me’ had tried to pull the girl back to her normal seat. Before Severus could say a word, Mr. Nott had pulled his wand, tapping Weasley’s hand and causing the other boy to yelp.
‘You really are quite daft, Weasel, if you think any of us are going to make her sit with you after what you said yesterday about her and Potter and Professor Snape. Good luck on your potion without anyone to walk you through it.”
He, of course, had to intervene before it turned into a full duel. It didn’t help that the idiot had attempted to sit with his apprentice. He had put a stop to that immediately with a few curt words.
‘You will not drag my apprentice down with your subpar potions skills, Mr. Weasley. You can work on your own at your usual table.’
He had pretended not to hear the little shite call him a ‘git’ and had gotten the class under control. The rest of the period went fine and he took great pleasure in giving the Weasley boy a T from his sludge gray potion that was supposed to turn out a burnt orange. As the class dispersed, Weasley had attempted to talk to not only Miss Brown, but Potter and Hermione. The Slytherins and other Gryffindors had closed ranks around the three and kept him from reaching any of them all the way to the Great Hall for the lunch hour. He awarded both houses with ten points each for their efforts in house unity. He couldn’t remember a time in all the years as a Professor of ever awarding any other house but his own points. It was a particular feeling.
Hermione had attempted to speak with him after she had finished her perfectly brewed potion but he waved her off, telling her they would speak that night at their meeting. Though he could tell she wanted to argue, she had thanked him for another informative class and left with her peers.
The clink of potions vials brought him back to his current class. Checking the time, he realized it was already the end of the period and with a nod and softly spoken compliments on the well brewed potions being turned in, he caught Lovegood’s eyes.
“Miss Lovegood, would you mind staying for a few moments? I need to ask you a question about your potion from yesterday.”
She gave him her usual dreamy smile, sitting back down as the rest of the class began to pack up and file out.
“Of course, Professor Snape.”
He waited until everyone was gone, shutting and locking the door before taking a seat on a stool across from her.
“I am going to go out on a limb and guess this isn’t about my potion but about the memory I left you.”
He nodded, crossing his arms as he leaned back into the table behind him.
“Astute, as always, Miss Lovegood.”
Her eyes cleared a bit, that cunning intelligence moving forward into her sky blue eyes, tinting them to the color of a summer storm.
“You want to know why I agreed to help and why my ‘prank’ was less of a prank and more vicious?”
He nodded again, intrigued by her insight.
“That is correct. You seem to know a lot of things about what people think or want then you let on, Miss Lovegood.”
She smiled at him, sitting forward to rest her chin on one of her palms.
“People speak to me even when they don’t want to. It’s pulses of sound and flashes of color in their magic. So, yes, Professor, I see a lot of things people don’t let me or want me to see. And ever since the war ended, Ron’s has been getting uglier and uglier to look at or hear. His internal music is discordant to everyone else's. Like some out of tune instrument that clashes with the melody. It flashes in hues of slime green and pus yellow when he is around Lavender or blood red so dark it’s almost black when he is looking at Hermione or Harry. And I have spent enough of my years here being made fun of by him because he doesn’t have the mental capacity to wrap his mind around the world being something more than what he sees it as. Quite frankly, I was sick of it and decided it was time to do something about it.”
She never once broke her eye contact with him. Severus shifted slightly, wanting to ask her what she saw and heard from him and fearing her answer.
“I think what you did was very cruel and very necessary. I have watched for years as he berated Hermione and others around him but expected all to be forgiven when he flashed his lopsided grin and said he was sorry. An apology only means something if you say it once and never repeat the offense. Otherwise, they are just words of placation with no real meaning behind them. So, I applaud you for taking a gift you have and using it to help get someone so toxic away from your friends.”
Lovegood nodded, sitting up straight again.
“Silent and black.”
Severus blinked.
“I’m sorry?”
She smiled, lifting one hand gracefully to gesture in his direction.
“Before. When I first got here and up until this school year, you were always silent and your magic never flashed any color but a soul smothering black.”
He swallowed, his hands twitching where he had them held in the creases of his elbows.
“And now?”
Her eyes took on that dreamy look, unfocused sky blue with drops of green.
“Your melody is soft, haunting. The way I imagine a siren’s song would be if they were calling for their mate across the vast ocean. Sometimes, like when you are looking at Hermione, it is upbeat, whimsical, as if you might start to twirl in circles any minute. The black is mostly faded. It only comes about when you are thinking too deeply about your doubts or fears. Otherwise, it is a warm gray like a cloudy spring day, when you are calm. I get flashes of burnt sienna which I have come to associate with your irritation and fiery red when you are angry. Cerulean blue when you are sad or upset and always, always when you are around Hermione it is a soft orange-yellow, like a sunrise. It’s beautiful.”
He licked his lips, leaning forward to place his elbows on the table she sat at.
“And Hermione?”
She gave him a Slytherin smirk if he ever saw one.
“Ah, now, Professor. That would be cheating, would it not?”
He sighed, his forehead banging on the desk.
“Probably, yes.”
She laughed, the tinkle of bells and that same brush of fairy wings in the air that he had come to associate with her laughter.
“Then, Head of House Slytherin, what do I get out of telling you?”
He looked up so quickly, his head spun.
“Name your price.”
She blinked, eyes turning soft once more.
“My, my, that wasn’t very snake-like of you at all. Lucky for you, I like you. Make nice with my Neville so he can stop jumping every time you come anywhere near him. And see what you can do about his parents' minds. I don’t expect you to cure them but I want you to at least give it your best.”
Sitting up, he reached out his hand which she took with hers.
“Deal, Miss Lovegood.”
They shook up and down once before breaking apart.
“Hermione’s song is hopeful and inquisitive. Always reaching for more. More knowledge, more understanding, more connection even when it is sometimes just out of reach. She tries to see the good in all people and things, so when she is proven wrong, it turns sharp and spiky, like her irritation would poke or cut you if it could. Her natural flashes of color are calming blues and mossy greens. She always makes me think of that saying, ‘The skies the limit’ because her magic looks that way. Like if one just reaches a bit further, something new is right there.”
Leaning forward, she took his hand in hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“And around you, she sings. Not just the quiet notes most people display on a daily basis. Her magic sings like a flock of nightingales. It echoes with pure joy, more so lately since you offered her the apprenticeship.”
He can’t help but smile, warmth blossoming in his chest once more.
“And her color?”
Patting his hand, she stands, throwing her satchel over her shoulder.
“A mix of passionate red and pure white. Right now, it's innocent, an apprentice to her master. A student towards her teacher. But she is one step to the left from being head over heels in love with you, Professor. All you really need to do is show her that the possibility for more is there. I assure you, she will do the rest. Have faith. Fate can be kind if you let it. Have a good evening, Professor Snape.”
He watched her go, his jaw hanging open and his heart pounding beneath his ribs.
Possibility for more
Show her
One step away
Head over heels in love
He didn’t move, just let her words keep repeating in his mind as the dinner hour passed. Have faith, she had said. He could do that. For her. For Hermione. He would find the faith he had never had.
xoXOXox