He looked up over his book. His hair hung limply over his forehead, shrouding his face in black. He could make out her face, the curve of her neck, but the bright orange hair was blocked by a strand of his own greasy black hair. He cherished these moments. When he could watch her, and for all he knew, never be seen. The entourage was too busy to bother with study hall, but Severus enjoyed it. The great hall would be filled with students who were putting their minds to work, making their quills fly. And her. He got to watch her. He stared at her pale flesh, the skin on her neck running over her torso to meet the gentle point of her shirt. He looked at his own skin. There were obvious differences. While his skin was tinged with grey undertones, hers was peachy, translucent enough to bare not only the flowing blood beneath its surface, but also some of the warmth she seemed to radiate through every pore. He looked back down at his assignment.
Upon discovering the medicinal qualities of the plant
The subject of potions delighted him. It was one of the more subtle crafts. It required forethought and skill, both of which Snape had. Normally, the words would have come to him in a rush, perfect sentences forming in his mind as he hastily tried to copy them onto parchment. But today, he was content to watch her. He stared, mesmerized by the slow rise and fall of her chest, the hair cascading down around her face, her hands firmly nestled around the book she was reading. He had to be near her. He stood up suddenly, causing the bench he was sitting on to slide back against the tiles. The groaning of the wood echoed throughout the hall and he hastily sat back down, trying to once again mask his face with his hair.
He needed a plan, and suddenly he knew.
He quickly took his book and placed it beneath the table he was sitting at, in case she had decided to glance over at him in the past few minutes. He tried to sweep some of his hair behind his ear, as he stood up and made his way to where she was sitting. He shifted uncomfortably as he spoke up with a jolt. “Sorry to bother, but may I borrow your 'Asiatic Anti-Venoms?'”
“Oh, go right ahead.” She glanced up at him quickly and then resumed her place in the book she was reading. Her eyes quickly flitting from side to side as she scanned the page. She lifted her thumb to her mouth, poised. She finished reading the page, and her pink tongue darted out from between her lips to dampen the skin on her finger. She used the moistened thumb to turn the page, and continued reading. He averted his gaze to the book lying before him on the table.
He knew that he should just pick it up and bring it back to his work space. He knew this, and he would have left. He would have. But it was too quick. He needed to stay around her just for a moment longer. He decided he would read the book from where he was standing. He leaned over awkwardly, tilting the book away from her, so that she couldn’t see what he was reading. His robes slid forward as he methodically turned the pages of the book, deciding that he needed something from page four hundred and eighty two. He ran his fingers along the text, giving the appearance that he was trying to remember something important. He looked back up at her before closing the book. She had gone back to her reading, spectacles sitting softly on her slight nose. He closed the book with a resounding thud and she looked up at him from her seated position. She smiled at him, and he felt a spasm run down his outer thigh. It was a warm smile, kind and loving. The skin around her clear green eyes crinkled as her lips were pulled into an upward arc.
She kept smiling, and he suddenly realized that he should either say something or walk away. Gratitude would be relevant, he decided. “Thank you,” he sputtered, rolling his clammy hands into tight balls, forcing his energy into his hands.
She giggled, and he immediately faltered, whatever confidence he had gathered, leaving him quickly. But he looked at her, and she was looking back at him in the eyes. Her giggle was earnest, and for the first time in quite a while, he felt like the laugh wasn’t aimed at him.
“Slughorn’s paper eating you alive?”
This was not what he had expected. Infatuated as he might have been, it was only of surface value. He had spoken to her once or twice, but their verbal encounters were only products of pleasantries. He was attracted to the way that her body moved, the shape of her face, the brilliance of her hair. And now he knew that she had a mind to go with her astounding beauty. He noticed her before she had started to associate herself with the Potter clan. What could she see in that band of trouble-making idiots anyway? She was obviously too smart, too talented, and too pretty for any of them.
“I’m actually having a bit of trouble connecting the use of asphodel to Agrippa’s studies.” It was true, but he was surprised as the words left his mouth, because normally he would have felt uncomfortable showing weakness. Saying it to her, however, was easy.
“I thought so. You just looked so full of… dread.” She smiled again at him, and he managed a choked out huff of air that could have passed for a laugh, he thought.
Dread? Nothing could have been farther from the truth. Petrified and out of his element, yes, but dreading? No. Not when it was her that he was talking to.
It was time for an awkward goodbye. He shifted slightly as he opened his mouth halfway, but she filled in for him.
“Well, good luck with the paper.” He nodded this time, not trusting himself to say anything coherent.
She went back to reading her book and he turned to go. But now a smile played along his lips as he walked back to his seat.
Strange & Beautiful by ephemeral
Chapter Notes: The title for this fic is taken from Aqualung's song: "Strange & Beautiful (I'll Put A Spell On You)." I would suggest looking up the lyrics, because it encapsulates this pairing, Snape/Lily, quite well (from Snape's perspective at least).