Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, and the world he lives in. If I did, I would be a much wealthier, and happier, individual. And this would be canon, not fan fiction. So there.
Author's Note: No, I haven't died. Or dropped off the face of the planet. I've just been thoroughly uninspired, and absolutely uninspiring. I will eventually update 'Shades' (completely blocked there - I know where I want to go, just not how). And for those of you who want a happier Snape story, this isn't it - just a little idea that tickled my imagination, that will, one day, be editted and generally improved. Just thought I'd share.
Severus Snape wasn't having a bad day. He wasn't having a good day. His day so far hadn't been anything special and it didn't seem like that would change any time soon.
He didn't really mind.
And so he sat, comfortably oblivious: eating his way through his lunch, pouring over a book for his next Defense essay, and not paying attention to anything outside this narrow boundary. And then someone laughed across the Hall.
For Severus Snape, the world stopped when Lily Evans laughed
It was a rich, full sound – light and true – and looking up, Severus saw Lily, her red hair flowing around her shoulders and her eyes shining, glowing radiant.
In that moment, his arm burned, as truly, he imagined, as it would if he had taken the Dark Mark already.
He hadn't yet; it was something to look forward too. And in this moment, it seemed a very dull promise indeed, watching Lily.
He had never been able to get over her.
I love you, he thought. And he wished, impossibly and fleetingly, that those words would travel across the Hall to her. That she would turn to him and smile that perfect smile, and the past years would melt away.
His arm burned still more hotly – its shadow pressing close.
And he wished again, impossibly and fleetingly, that he would be able just to talk to her, to explain, as he never could in the past, about why the Dark Arts drew him. He needed to be someone, needed to break away from Spinner's End, and the awkward child he had been. It was something he was good at, like breathing – like laughing is for you, he would say. And she would listen and she would understand, and he would explain that she never would have to be a part of that world.
She was his world.
And this fantasy shone brightly in his mind, sweetly and darkly, with how she would understand, would see that clearly, would see how there was no one else in the world for him – that there was no one else in the world for her.
He would prove himself.
And Lily Evans, smiling sweetly, would gaze into his eyes and give him her full attention, her love…
Accept that she was doing that, now, and across the hall.
And she wasn't looking at him.
He couldn't turn away. He couldn't help but see her lean in and press her lips to his. Mold his lips with hers, tilt her head just so, and move ever more close to him. The kiss became an embrace, a promise. And when she pulled away, she was smiling and happy, and burning with it.
This was her future, in James Potter's arm.
And his own burning, bright little fantasy turned bitter, for Severus Snape.
Across the Hall, someone cheered, whooped and hollered. Someone laughed, thrilled, and like wildfire, gossip spun its way into the conversations of every person in the Hall.
Lily Evans kissed James Potter! Lily and James!
His arm burned.
Fin.