DISCLAIMER: I do not own Snape, Lily, Harry, the Marauders, the Prefect's bathroom or any other place, person or aspect you recongnize.
Guilty Pleasure
The warm melodic voice of Lily Evans trilled out and Severus Snape smiled, bathing in the beauty of her singing. How such a majestic voice could come out of such a delicate figure was beyond the boy's thoughts. For once, he was much too busy living in the moment.
Of course, Lily had no idea Severus was here, or, well, he wouldn't be here. No, he had to admit, this idea of his was, as usual, ingenious, but definitely his best so far.
Lily showered in the Prefect's bathroom, Severus knew, so he confunded an unsuspecting prefect, retrieved the password and, under the cover of his strong Disillusionment Charm, listened to her beautiful voice trail out of the showers. Ah, how it seeped into his ears.
Her voice was like his guiding light, helping him get through the day, enabling him to endure Potter and Black's snide comments on every aspect of him, from his greasy hair, to his fascination of the Dark Arts.
The slimeballs could do whatever to him, but Potter, who was madly in love with Evans, didn't have that calming, soothing voice reverberating in his head to give him satisfaction. Severus grew smug at that idea.
So every day the Slytherin sat outside Lily's shower stall and let his annoyance and loneliness get washed away by the Gryffindor's voice, and for those few stolen moments, replaced the negative feelings with love and joy. It was a wonderful sensation, to the point of addiction. Severus didn't mind. And Lily didn't know. Perfect.
When he had a particularly bad day, Severus always had that to look forward to, his guilty pleasure he took pride in discovering. For a moment, his hate for the self-proclaimed "Marauders" was wiped off his mind. Just for that moment, there was nothing, no barriers between Lily and him.
Perhaps that would explain the greasiness and lack of cleanliness in the teenager, but appearances were so trivial to Severus. What was a wand with no magic? What was a cauldron with no ingredients? They were shells. Nothing. Looks didn't matter to him. Lily Evans did.
So, many years later, when Harry Potter came to Hogwarts, the potions professor revisited that spot. He basked in the memories, reminisced about the days spent with Lily and loathed Potter for being similar to his father.
A single tear slid out and he watched it hit the cold marble floor and break into pieces, like his heart when his one love had chosen his enemy. The grown up man sat on the floor, like in his teenage years, for hours, his ears struggling to fill the aching emptiness where Lily Evans' voice had once occupied.
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