AN: No beta so mistakes are mine, unlike Harry Potter which is not mine.
I can blame my descent into madness on quills. I am not yet so far gone as to not realize this requires more explanation.
I had been out by the lake, walking along the far shore when I saw that Professor Snape was out there as well. I had come out here for walks before Buckbeak's trial in third year, and when I'd found myself at Hogwartz again as a teacher, it seemed a good way to relieve the stress of the job. I had seldom run into anyone else.
I could see him from a long way off, a blip of blackness on the shore nearer the castle. It would be possible to avoid him by going back the way I came, but this was my walk, and perhaps he'd be gone by the time I got there.
The day was cold and windy. It seemed to me to be just like him to be grousing by a black lake on a windswept day. I'd pictured him scowling and cursing everyone or some such, pacing in front of the water, but when I got closer I could see he was just standing there. He looked thoughtful.
I wondered if he'd noticed me. My coat was a bright red, hard not to notice. I also wasn't making much of an effort to hide. I realized as I approached the spot he was at that we'd never really been alone together. It seemed strange that we had fought on the same side in a war and he'd never left any impression on me beyond the shadowy menace that had scored my essays poorly. I guess it was because most all of our connection was through Harry.
I could only imagine his impression of me as Harry's bossy friend was none too favorable. Certainly if past experience was anything to go on, his mental image of me was probably a pair of buck teeth and a waving arm protruding from a tangle of bushy hair.
Can't be friends with everyone, I suppose.
When I came out of my musings I realized he was much closer now. He was also staring at me, or rather my hair.
It was a windy day, I'm sure my hair was a more tangled mess than usual. Its not as though the state of his hair gave him room to judge. If his hair didn't look tangled in this weather it could only be because it was too oily to tangle. The greasy strands would just slip past each other.
So I ignored him. Even with bad hair, I'm old enough now not to be intimidated by his demeanor. I'd be the bigger person and walk past with out even commenting. Let him read what he will from my stoic countenance.
However, his face was twitching.
Oh my god. He was laughing. He was full belly laughing with his head thrown back and his eyes closed.
I should have been offended or upset, but what was happening to his face stopped whatever embarrassment I would have normally felt. Snape usually had hard frown lines. The lines, and the frown were gone and he looked, well, entirely different. He even seemed to me an altogether different person. Snape didn't laugh, he sneered or smirked or cackled. But this laughter didn't sound mean at all. He also appeared completely relaxed.
It was not as disturbing as it perhaps should have been. Really, I should have been mad that he was even laughing at me, but I guess sometimes you see and hear something so unusual you don't care that you're the butt of the joke. I'd stopped walking and was openly staring.
"Oh gods, Miss Granger. Didn't you see yourself in the lake?"
I could feel the blush in my cheeks. Now I was starting to get upset. At least his laughter had been pleasant sounding. He didn't have to insult me too.
Right, I was going to be the bigger person and walk past him.
Which he stopped me from doing, by reaching for my hair!
"What the hell Snape!"
I didn't have time to pull away from him fast enough before his own hand was back at his side. He was holding something.
"You've got two more in that mess," he said and held out his hand so I could see he was holding one of my quills.
My hands flew to my hair to feel two more quills tangled in it. I must have forgotten them when I'd tucked them behind my ears. That's what he'd been laughing at!
And it was probably my surprise at finding the quills still in my hair that had him laughing now. I wanted to be mad, but honestly it was amusing. I decided to let myself giggle at my own expense.
"You had no idea they were there, did you?"
"No. I have a lot of hair."
"I've just been picturing you stuffing quill after quill into your hair, forgetting about each one when you wanted to write something and grabbing a new quill."
"I get a bit focused..."
"You looked deranged."
"Says the pot."
"Fair point. Still, I'm not sporting bird feathers."
He was smiling, and no one was losing House Points, it felt surreal. There was possibly friendly banter going on. I was at a lost for words. He just smirked at my bemusement and headed back towards the castle.
"Try not to fly away, Miss Granger."
Such was the incident of a few weeks ago. So it is now that I find myself in madness. It's perhaps pointless trying to explain the effect this brief encounter had on me. One might get the gist of the experience by trying to reconcile their view of Snape with an image created in their mind of Snape laughing, but this is bound to fail to do it justice. I think without seeing him laugh the image will be tainted by the horribleness of his character at most other instances.
I can only say that for me seeing him so at ease made me feel joyful too, even when I know his laughter was at my expense. I suppose the look he held made me feel that unlike many of his other actions, this one was not driven by meanness, but by perhaps shared understanding.
It is unlikely that anyone will believe me in this. I feel crazy for believing it myself.
The situation has not been helped by my receiving from him this morning a gift left on my desk. The unmarked package contained quills like the one he had taken from my hair. However, these quills were charmed to return to their holder whenever they touched my hair, which I have found out from unwitting experiment.
I imagine he is laughing at the thought of my surprise when the quills disappeared from behind my ear. I like to imagine him laughing.
Thank you for reading. Go team literacy. Also thank you for reading this story in particular.