"I know you miss her."
Mcgonagall broke the silence in the dungeons classroom. Snape watched the older professor with keen eyes. What is she talking about? Who misses who? Was it him missing someone? Some female? He was sure he heard the pronoun "her" in her statement.
"I see no reason why you should barge in here at this time of night," he mused. His voice was laced with venom and mockery again, but she just smiled at him. She was accustomed to his rash attitude. She actually liked his personality, for she knew there was something inside him at the moment, which he was desperately concealing.
"And I see no reason for you to sneak to the Gryffindor rooms in the middle of the night, rummaging something from the clothes of a student isn't very suspicious. Am I right, Severus? Do you really think I have no idea what you've done? I was merely observing you this whole time. "
He controlled himself to do something he wasn't supposed to, but he almost lost that control when she smiled at him playfully. She was enjoying his misfortune, or should we say discomfort.
He grimaced as he thought back to the eventful night. He was trying to find an excuse for his predicament, but he couldn't figure out what to say. He was tongue-tied. He needed to get out of this problem, but he wasn't sure if she would let him slide this awkward peccadillo so easily.
"I may have visited your House's quarters recently. I only came because the Headmaster ordered me to. The sight of the place disgusts me, " his expressionless voice replied.
"No need to insult my House, Severus. I was merely curious why you were wandering inside the Gryffindor quarters. I assumed that already. The Fat Lady told me that you said you were under the Headmaster's instructions, " her voice was lingering, as if there were something hidden between those lines. She looked at him again, hoping to see him squirm, but the exact opposite thing happened. He was as confident as ever, gaze never faltering a bit.
He understood there was something else about this conversation. She knew something he didn't. He hated the idea that he was caught or that he missed the information he should have had. He wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of seeing him humiliated. He was too proud to let his composure waver.
Professor Mcgonagall left his rooms and looked at his door one last time. How could he just mask his emotions just like that? She had seen him. She had seen everything.
He was reading somebody else's letter. How juvenile would that be? He couldn't even grasp the idea himself stealing something from the enemy: Gryffindor. Well, he almost looked like James Potter because it was something he would do. He was an egoistical clown, after all. He sneered at the thought and his insides burned with annoyance.
Another set of dreadful months escaped his way, and still, he was reaching for her. He couldn't forget her. He remembers her smiles and small talks every now and then. It was painful, but seeing her in his mind feels like she was back here again. Safely in his rooms, keen eyes criticizing the dirt, which accumulated the dungeons and smile removing every tarnish in his heart made by a burning past. He was surprised with Mcgonagall's revelation since it had been three months after that serious sneaking event, and she never said a word about it. Why this day? Why now?
A soft knock on the door interrupted his train of amusing thoughts. He soon realized he was expecting someone. After Miss Granger had left for Ilvermorny, he had to choose another apprentice for the Potions post. He never liked the idea of replacing Hermione, for no one could ever rival her intelligence when it came to him. But sadly, he had to make the decision, and that decision was done two months ago.
Miss Olivia O'Brien was a year older than Hermione Granger, but he still found her wisdom rather uninteresting. Indeed, she was a prized Ravenclaw, one of the smartest witches in her year. She was pretty at first glance, especially her amethyst eyes and sunshine gold hair. He had to admit, she was indeed a vision. One would stare at her and be completely lost to her beauty, but she wasn't the girl he wanted. He wasn't even lured to her magnificent aura since his heart belonged somewhere safe and far.
She did everything under his protocol. She never questioned his authority, she only spoke things when necessary, and she focused her attention on impressing the attending teacher. This wasn't the traditional Ravenclaw drive, which would deny the totalitarian facet of smarts by being a submissive student who follows everything by the rule book. Ravenclaws tend to swerve their ways out of the calculated proportion and search things their own way regardless of what others may think about them. Only she was different. Snape was a little intrigued to find a blue and bronzed student imitating the likes of a Gryffindor. He knew she was trying to be noticed. She wanted to break the attention of the wizarding world that even underappreciated Ravenclaws deserve to clapped for and praised.
He was still his cruel self, only a little miserable and lonely this time. He couldn't handle his mood swings anymore. He even finds himself eavesdropping on Potter just to gain an itty bitty information about her. He didn't get much, but knowing her name was skyrocketing in America was more than enough.
The set of purple eyes looked directly at him, and he finally acknowledged her at last. Her gaze had a hint of worry that day. He got a little confused about her behaviour, but before he could ask her what was going on with her, she called out, "Professor Snape, Professor Dumbledore, is required to see you as soon as possible."
He understood this wasn't any faculty meeting nor a little chat but an immediate rendezvous. He quickly got up and went to the Headmaster's office when it came up a disturbing realization.
Why should the Headmaster ask Miss O'Brien to fetch him for a crucial meeting when all he needed to do was send his Patronus? Is there something going on? He burst into the office at a quick pace, meeting the person who called for him at last.