A/N: Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my original characters.
Re-written and improved version. Hope you like.
The Serpent and the Songbird
"We need to stop meeting like this."
A flip of her head and a flash of light blonde hair before he is drawn into her grey eyes. They always seem to captivate him, wether he is in class or elsewhere. Right now they're sparkling with mischief, a smirk playing on her lips.
"You ashamed of being seen with me?"
"That is not it, and you know it. I thought you Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart." He takes a moment to study her, since he is mostly protected by the cover of darkness, and she can't see him enough to determine where he is looking. She is tall for a girl, the top of her head almost touching his nose, and has that look of someone who has had a happy childhood. The Head Girl badge is gleaming on the left side of her robes, and he tries not to look at her chest. He isn't successful. His eyes snaps up to her face when a soft sigh is heard.
This time her smile is a bit wistful. "How is everything? Good?"
He knows what she's hinting at, and almost as a reflex he brings his hand to cover his left forearm. In a month he'll be a servant. One month until he'll join the forces of the Dark Lord. And all this because he said the wrong thing in a moment of weakness. The Lestranges has been on his back about it since the beginning of the school year. 'Not until I leave Hogwarts', has he defended himself with. It's worked so far, but they are getting restless. Not knowing what to answer her question with, he stays silent.
"It doesn't have to be like this, you have a choice." Her voice sounds thick, and he realizes that she is about to cry. He doesn't like it when she cries.
"Amelia," her name is a low warning, spoken through clenched teeth.
"Sev, please. Go to Dumbledore, he can protect you." She has taken a step forwards, her robes rustling on the floor. She needs to reach out to him. Make him understand. She needs him. She moves closer, wringing her clasped hands in front of her. The tip of their shoes are touching now, and she can finally see all of him. Black and green robes, a pale and gaunt face behind a curtain of long black hair and onyx eyes. Eyes that seems to pierce right through her.
Tentatively she reaches out a hand to touch him, to pry his hand away from the claw like grip on his forearm. His skin is cold, and she can feel calluses on his hand, probably from Potion making. He doesn't pull his hand away, but instead clasps his hand tighter in her hers, entwining their fingers. It brings him comfort, to be this close to her.
Her mind is in a turmoil, and she is scared. Scared for him, scared for what she knows he is going to do. She can feel the tears threatening to spill over, but she blinks them away. He doesn't like it when she cries.
"I am worried about you."
"Don't be," his tone is harsh, and he almost pulls back his hand from her grasp. Almost.
"How can I not?" the expression on her face can only be described as fear. "You could get killed."
"If that's case, I am not going to be missed."
She hates that he is so cynical, and tells him that. "Of course you are going to be missed. I'd miss you. You're my best friend, Sev."
"No." His voice is low. "We are not friends." It pains him to say this, but he has to. He has to keep her safe. And if to keep her safe is to push her away, that be it. "This ends now." He pulls back his hand and walks away, determent not to turn back and gather her in his arms, to voice every concern within the fibers of his body. He has to be strong.
She tries to talk to him the next day, before Potions. She is taken aback when he gives her the look normally reserved for Potter and his gang, a look of complete and utter loathing. It hurts her, though she does not show it. Instead, she continues on with her work, head bent down.
It is at the end of class that it happens. She walks to give Professor Slughorn her vial of the Draught of Living Death, and accidentally bumps into Rudolph Lestrange. He drops the vial in his hand, and it crashes to the floor. She turns around to apologize, but halts herself when she sees the look on his face. Then he grabs her upper arm, tight.
"You will pay for this," he spits out, and squeezes her arm tighter. She cries out in pain, alerting Professor Slughorn of their altercation.
"Mr Lestrange, what are you doing? Let go of Ms Lawrence's arm immediately. That will be 50 points from Slytherin."
Rudolph gives her another sneer, but lets go of her arm. She is left standing in the middle of the Potions classroom while the rest of the class leaves. In a rare moment, her eyes meets Severus'.
He has seen the exchange between her and Rudolph, and is standing ready to step in. The look in her eyes almost makes him break down and apologize for what he said last night. Instead, he wills his body to leave. It almost breaks him to do so, but he has to do it. For her.
It is ten years before he sees her again, and he is struck by how little she has changed. She still has the same long hair, the same smile. The only difference is a few laugh lines on her face, and the gold ring on her left hand. She looks surprised when she sees him, and he suspects that Dumbledore hasn't told her that he's working here. She walks up to him slowly, and he wishes that the staff room was bigger, so that it will take longer for them to meet.
"Severus, hi," she smiles nervously, tucking her bangs behind her ear.
"Amelia." He gives a small nod.
"How have you been?"
This conversation reminds him of another one, spoken late one night in April in a dark hallway. That was the end of them. It would seem that today is a start.
He looks down his nose at her, his lips pursed together. "As well as can be –ah- expected. Well, I believe congratulations are in order." He gestures to her left hand, and she self-consciously hides it behind her back.
"Thank you,"
"How long has it been?"
"Five years." She pauses, looking down at her feet before looking up at him again. "His name is Aaron. He works at the Ministry,"
A sneer forms on his thin lips, his top lip curling. "How utterly fascinating."
She shakes her head softly. "Don't be like that."
Her statement catches him off guard, and he is glad they are alone. He does not wish for his colleagues to see him show any emotions that aren't anger or disgust. He has a reputation to keep up, after all.
"Like what?" he asks, his voice soft with the naivety and innocence of his teen years, before he knew just what a horrible place the world is.
"Do not act like you don't care, please don't. I cannot bear it." She smiles wistfully, seemingly lost in far away thoughts. "You don't know how it killed me when you joined him. You had a choice, Severus, but you chose to ignore it."
"I did not, as you put it, have a choice. I did what I had to do." For you, even though he does not say it out loud. He suspects that she knows it, anyway.
"I loved you, you know. Even after you pushed me away, I still loved you. I loved you for over half my time at Hogwarts."
He does not see that one coming. He is aware of the feelings he had for her then, the feelings he still have for her, but had no idea that she had been reciprocating them. If she only would have told him, everything would be different now. He would be happy, content, and without the mark on his left forearm that would forever brand him a traitor. A traitor forever by a mistake and slip of tongue he had at seventeen. He finds himself unconsciously reach up to rub his forearm, but changes his mind half way through and crosses his arms in front of him instead. He cannot let her see his train of thought.
He realizes now that it is too late. They are too late. If he had spoken up about his feelings back then, she would be his. But the world does not work that way. You never get anything you want, even if you deserve it.
"Does he make you happy?" he nearly chokes on the words, so uncharacteristic for him that he is baffled for a second.
She nods, her lips curving in a smile at the mention of her husband. "He does. I met him two years after I left Hogwarts, in France. It took me two years to get over you Severus. I would have waited for you. If you had given me an ounce of hope, I would have waited for a hundred years in necessary." She pauses, clearly conflicted about what she is about to say. "We are expecting a baby in May."
The word congratulations gets stuck in his throat, he cannot bring himself to say them, for he does not mean them. He does not want her to have another man's baby. He wants her to be his. But, he forfeited his chance a long time ago, and must now pay for his mistake.
Professor Sprout sticks her head in to tell them that it is lunch times. He does not pay her any attention. His eyes is still glued to Amelia's face, and her eyes.
"I should get to lunch," she says as Sprout closes the door behind her. "I have not eaten since daybreak. I'll see you in the Great Hall, Severus." A soft smile, and then she leaves.
The door has barely swung close before he breaks, a few tears running down his sallow skin and dripping down onto his cloak.
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