Disclaimer: The characters here and the world they inhabit are the creation and property of JK Rowling and her assigns.
If, fair maiden,
You could turn your titian-crowned head in my direction,
I would be the happiest of men.
If, sweet lady,
You could turn your ear and hear my pleas for forgiveness,
I would be eternally grateful.
If, my dearest,
You could turn from your suitor and realize the depth of our love,
We would be happy forever.
If only she would let him talk to her again, everything would be fine. Madam Pince cleared her throat and pointed at the clock. It was closing time. He sighed, shoved the parchment into his bag, and left the library.
He stopped dead at the sight of wriggling behind a tapestry of the founders doing some sort of minuet. He recognized the school bag lying on the floor and some strands of hair escaping from behind the tapestry. Hadn't he just written a verse about that hair?
As he watched, the tapestry flickered. As he watched, a masculine hand tugged a bare knee up and then slid along a leg that he couldn't stop looking at. The tapestry slid back into place as a feminine voice whispered, "Yes, there... oh..."
He couldn't move. He walked toward the tapestry. He wasn't sure why. In some strange stupid way, he would become part of it. As his hand reached to touch the ancient wool, he heard her voice again. "Oh, Ja... ames..."
He took a deep breath, suddenly realizing his stupidity. He wasn't the one behind there with her. There was no way to do what he was thinking without looking stupid. Silently, he made his way down the hall, then he walked quickly down to his dorm. He took out his parchment and looked at it.
Since, evil enchantress,
You chose to give yourself instead to that idiot braggart,
You will live to regret it.
His hand shook so much that he blotted the parchment. He wiped the rage from his eyes with the sleeve of his robe, a sleeve much less fine than the one of her preferred lover, and started a flame with his wand. It would be better to destroy it. He didn't really want her to be hurt, did he?
A/N: From the challenge thread at the Teachers' Lounge:
A couple of us have imagined that our dear Severus Snape was a bit, shall we say, emo. And his love for fair Lily Evans, Our Lady of Perpetual Sugar and Spice, was the most emo thing about him. We also imagined that as a teenager, said emo-ness would have manifested itself in verse form. And said verse would be atrocious.
I'm not sure I can add anything to that, other than that this is my offering. Please be kind when you review.
