Anti-litigation charm: Harry Potter is JK Rowling's. The Hunchback of Notre-Dame is Victor Hugo's and the song Hellfire is Walt Disney's. I claim no ownership. Anything with a * is dialogue directly from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.
Professor Severus Snape waited under a dark shadow thrown by a particularly garish Yuletide ornament. Required to attend, as all other Hogwarts teachers, he had ungraciously signed his invitation with a spiky scrawl of "If I must."
It was nearing eight o'clock when the students and guests would be permitted into the overly-decorated Great Hall. Among the lights of fairies were vines of thick ivy and hundreds of mistletoe garlands framing the ceiling charmed as a starry night sky. Fool Albus had surpassed his previous records of decor, obviously seeking to blind the guest schools or cause an epileptic fit. Over the sound of ornate water fountains from the grotto of rosebushes, Severus could hear the impatient pacing of hormone-leaden children. Minerva's allowance of 4th years was a mistake; he could think of three in particular whom he wished to avoid tonight.
Severus lowered his head and let his hair cover his face, watching from the gap as students flowed into the room. Absent were the black robes he was used to; instead the older cohort of students had dressed in a kaleidoscope of colours. Somewhere in the whirl of teals, crimsons and yellows he caught sight of Draco Malfoy's pinched face, Pansy Parkinson glued to his side, her pale pink dress slightly see-through. His Syltherins, anxious to make an impression with their expensive attire sat at one of the conjured lantern-lit tables. Severus barely restrained a shudder when Hagrid, wearing a hideous suit, sprang on tip-toes to whisper into Madame Maxime's ear.
Soon enough all the students were seated and a low murmur buzzed around the Hall as Minerva, wearing an ugly tartan robe and equally atrocious thistle-wreath atop her pointed hat, entered with the Champions of the Triwizard Tournament behind her.
A sneer crossed the Potion master's face as he watched the Potter boy nervously parade one of the Patil twins around the room, seemingly counting under his breath. The boy's hair was as rakish as ever and while his robes were fashionable and well-fit, he looked sorely uncomfortable. The Veela and her date were far more self-conscious to the point of preening and Severus actively tore his gaze from Miss Delacour's charms. Mister Diggory and Miss Chang appeared to be wrapped entirely in their own world. Karkaroff's star pupil, Krum, looked as duck-footed as ever and his date's hair is what Severus noticed before anything else.
Piled on top of her head in an elegant knot, her neck was bare and slender. Travelling down her body, Severus noted the blue dress robes clung to her curves in a most pleasant manner; clearly a 7th year student, but who? The man amused himself with some less-than-likely guesses as the champions sat at the reserved table with the twinkling Headmaster before allowing himself to look at the young woman's smiling face.
At first he didn't recognise her, as the teeth were of a sensible size, but there was no mistaking Miss Granger's eyes or smattering of freckles across her nose. She seemed to be enjoying herself immensely talking to Viktor Krum, her food going unnoticed on her plate.
From his position hidden away, Severus found his eyes returning again and again to the girl's table. He watched her bow-shaped lips and her eyelashes flutter and the fleeting touches of her hand on her date's shoulder. When, in a showy act of non-verbal magic, Albus waved away the tables to clear the floor and reveal the music stage with a loud grinding sound, the Potion master snatched out his wand. He cursed himself for being so enamoured and unaware of his surroundings. Wearily he returned his wand under his robe.
Seemingly without intention, Severus' gaze was drawn to Miss Granger's face as Krum held out a hand for her to dance. She was graceful in his arms as he whirled her around to a slow, mournful tune. The beat changed and the two spun around the dance floor to the envious eyes of many. Again, too much time passed before Severus snapped out of his thoughtful trance by a semi-conscious realisation of something. There - Karkaroff slinking away, clutching his arm.
Trailing the defunct Death Eater past the front steps of the entrance hall and deep into the garden of roses, Severus took a short cut to appear before the man. The paranoid Durmstrang Headmaster drew his wand in fright and didn't relax when Severus rose one eyebrow.
"Severus!" Igor's grip on his arm lessened slightly as he came closer. "Severus," he said again in a quieter tone, "the Dark Mark... it's - well, look!"
The Potions master coolly surveyed the stark black insignia on the man's arm and affected nonchalance. Inside, his heart was racing. It was time for damage control, words that did not betray his stance for either side.
"I don't see what these is to fuss about, Igor."*
Rustling up ahead and a whispered moan followed by a giggle set Severus' teeth on edge. He largely ignored Igor's anxious words as the man followed him to the source of the illicit activity. Tiring of the man's tirade, Severus snapped, "Then flee - I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts."*
Composing a sneer on his face, Severus rounded the corner, drew his wand and with a whispered command blasted a rosebush apart. To his satisfaction indignant squeals and dark shapes emerged. He deducted house points from the half-undressed teenagers, but his smirk froze on his face as Potter and Weasley came into view. For a second no-one moved and Severus waited for the Granger girl to appear to complete the Golden Trio. When she didn't, Severus suddenly became aware of the Death Eater at his side, and so applied a new mask before drawling, "And what are you two doing?"*
Igor shuffled and twisted his goatee around one long finger, as if Severus had been addressing him.
Luckily fool-hardy Gryffindor bravery prompted Weasley to inform him of exactly what they had been doing before Igor said anything unfortunate. Ignoring the snide tone, Severus snarled at them to keep walking and pushed past them, spelling his cloak to billow and flap at their faces. The Durmstrang headmaster couldn't keep up with Severus' brisk pace and eventually halted, getting the message.
Severus patrolled the rose bushes for a while, thinking. He scowled as he passed by the oaf Hagrid and his madame. Everywhere he looked there were people enjoying themselves and each other. Happy pairs, glowing expectations on their faces. Unable to endure the sequestered couples, Severus slunk back into the Great Hall.
Immediately the inappropriate curves of Miss Granger absorbed his vision as her hips swung side to side with the music, her date's hands snug around her waist. Krum looked down on her with a warm smile and the girl returned it, almost demurely. The song ended and Granger, her cheeks flushed and her eyes alight collapsed happily into a nearby chair, fanning herself uselessly with her hand. Her gaze focussed in his direction and Severus straightened. He became painfully aware of his plain teaching robes, sallow skin, greasy hair. It seemed as if she didn't care for any of that, as her features remained giddy, almost angelic. Suddenly the corner of her mouth tilted upwards and she blew him a kiss.
Shock, surprise, fear, longing - emotions skimmed the surface of Severus' mind as he scrambled to decode what the Granger girl had just done. He was still processing when he heard the booming laugh of Krum from in front of him, a drink in each hand. As his mind cleared, he realised that Granger had blown the kiss at Krum, not himself.
Fool, idiot, worthless! He thoughts quickly turned dark with anger. Anger at himself, anger at Granger, anger at Krum. How did he even entertain, for just that split moment, that the girl had graced his hideous face with a kiss absent of a trace of fright; that she might even care for him; that he was worth anything more than disdain?
Merlin help him. The more he lingered on his thoughts as Miss Granger turned in the strong arms of the Bulgarian Seeker, the more he thought of his pathetic life. He was common, vulgar, weak. The fraction of a second that Granger's eyes had seemingly met his had scorched his soul with desires only too human. To be loved, to be wanted.
He watched her as the night wore on, her curls escaping the confines of her bun. The want to tuck loose locks behind the shell of her ear blazed at his control. It felt like fire under his skin, a burning desire for the witch who set this flame. Used to spending hours standing quietly in the background, lest he draw the wrath of the Dark Lord, Severus lurked like a vengeful spider. Where was the know-it-all bookworm, relentless in her need to recite passages of the textbook. Where had this young woman come from? Dressed as she was, the ample swell of her breasts, the height of her cheekbones - it was as if the girl had matured overnight. It wasn't his fault that he had suddenly noticed the girl's generous curves, the gentle slope of her neck or the shapely calves upon which she danced. Was it his fault that she was of the Wizard Majority age of seventeen? Or that the thin golden Age Lines inscribed around the castle and hidden in the arches of doorways would no longer oppose her from entering the male dormitories and visiting the beds of the opposite sex? If she wished, she could grace even his own bedchambers now. She could step over the threshold of his study and into his personal rooms, untie her hair and let her curls tumble down to kiss her shoulders, slip the straps of her dress off...
When he felt the treacherous twitch of arousal, Severus started to Occlude, focusing on his anchor point. Lily; the siren who had cast her spell on him. Thinking of her dampened his arduous thoughts towards his student immediately. Instead, he felt pain. In a way it was more welcoming and familiar. No longer the pain of rejection, or the pain of lost love, or the pain of what could have been. Just pain. Lily had deserted him when he needed her most. She didn't deserve her fate, and he still considered it his fault. But the pain he coveted wasn't any that Lily willingly or unwillingly bestowed upon him. It was just simple pain. A pain similar to that of a chemical burn; while they had been infrequent in Severus' journey towards a Potions mastery, even the best could not avoid the unexpected splash of an ingredient reacting to a catalyst. And thus he trained himself to Occlude with Lily as a front for the Dark Lord, so he could delight in the apparent pain his spy associated with her memory. It was easy to suffer Crucio and lesser curses or hexes when he focussed on pain, revelled in pain. Who or what existed to give him pleasure?
He opened his eyes into slits, staring past the screen of his hair and tensed with the sight of Krum leading Granger out of the Hall. He battled with himself; his need to watch her versus his morals. The moment his teacher instincts crept in and gave him a passing excuse, he allowed himself to be tempted to follow them. His mind was alive with morbid curiosity. He'd find them. He'd find her if he had to blast apart all the rosebushes in all of Hogwarts.
"Point Me Hermione Granger," he hissed. A blue streak of light led the way, only visible to him. Soon he came upon a gazebo and he caught a glipse of Granger swept into Krum's arms. Ever so slowly their lips met in a gentle kiss. Fire licked his heart and spread to sear his flesh and bone with desire. He couldn't stop the imagery of her in his arms and the taste of the fires of hell raged a war across his skin.
Their kiss deepened and a darkfire of lust swept over him and his eyes smouldered as he watched Krum pull Granger flush against his body. Feeling a prickling of voyeuristic pain, Severus settled into the shadows. Merlin, have mercy on me. He wanted her. But he knew he'd never have her. She'd burn.
Author's Note: Reviews most welcome!