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Chapter 2.
SS POV
Severus Snape wasn't typically a man who drank on the job. However, he suspected those that judged him for that had never done rounds in the Gryffindor common areas and hallways.
Reluctantly, he sat his dram of whiskey down on the table with a thunk. He checked the clock on the wall.
Time to go put some dunderheads in their places with my favorite way to take house points. Ripping apart horny Gryffindors; my idea of fun.
He fastened the buttons on the bottom of his sleeves, straightened the front of his frock coat, and set off out of the dungeons. His walk was legendary. Oh, Severus Snape was very aware of what was said about him from the whisperings of the students.
Stalking I believe they call it. Skulking about. The bat of the dungens. As if I didn't have anything better to do. My favorite may be a "vampire." At least that invokes some fear.
He silently walked along the familiar halls. So long he had lived in this castle he knew them like the back of his hand. He could navigate them expertly in the dark or otherwise. He walked the dim pathways almost mindlessly always keeping a vigilant ear out for any noises and silently casting a Homenum Revelio to let him know if anyone else where about.
He rounded the corner and came through a hallway full of couples. One couple down, two couples down. By the third, the others had scattered as quickly as possible. My fun soured before it began.
He walked down the hall towards a stairwell. As quietly as possible, he opened the large wooden door. Creeeeaaaakkkk. Bloody hell. Well if they didn't know I was on my way before they do now. Must remember that for next time. He descended the steps and heard a very faint sniffling.
As he descended the stairs, he didn't expect to find the person that he did. He came to a halt.
What is Miss Granger doing here and of all things… crying?
He stood slightly dumbfounded until he heard her say, "Charms spell. Just practicing."
He was clearly not expecting that to be the first thing out of her mouth. Severus' head jerked quickly to the side to thoroughly look at her. Very odd, indeed. Where is the rest of the infamous trio. One would almost think they were glued together with a sticking charm that only ever failed in the library.
He asked her, "Why, pray tell, is a Gryffindor such as yourself practicing charms work alone in this hallway, Miss Granger?"
She sat still just staring into space until she answered, "You seem capable of answering my ruminations, Sir. Tell me: is it worth living your life in solitude? Not allowing anyone in and not allowing your heart to break? If a person falls apart alone in the dark, does it make a sound?"
Escaping Weasley then. It seems everyone knows her feelings but the insufferable dunderhead. Always wearing her heart on her sleeve, Gryffindors.
Quick-witted as he was sharp-tongued Severus retorted, "Lover's spat, Miss Granger?" He could not see her face but could picture the annoyance forming on it. He heard the tone of her voice shift when she replied, "I'm fine. Please leave me be."
She has been hurt. This, I know all too well. 'I'm fine.' Merlin, how many times have I used that exact phrase. I'm fine. Leave me be. Those words. I still remember the poem my mother taught me as a young man.
He contemplated whether or not he should say anything until he could stand it no longer, "Tell me, if a person falls apart alone in the dark, does it make a sound? And if it does make a sound, is it as loud and devastating as a decaying broken heart when it is finally found? Or is the sound of a soft strangulation hidden that we miss all the time behind words like "I'm fine? - Nikita Gill"
He heard her sniffle as she slowly turned to look at him. She locked eyes with him for a brief moment, and he knew he looked at her with solidarity. And then, suddenly, he found himself very uncomfortable. Bloody hell. Why did I say anything? Wall of steel and nothing more. Ever. Stiff upper lip.
"I'm afraid, Miss Granger, I tend to keep my mind preoccupied with matters of more importance than if it's better to be alone or the whimsy of a girl's fickle heartache. Return to Gryffindor tower immediately, or you will miss curfew undoubtedly giving me the pleasure of deducting enough house points you shall forget all about your ginger dunderhead."
Enveloping himself in the safety of his familiar black robes, Professor Snape turned to exit the room as quickly as he had appeared. Taking extra care of the billow of his robes, finding comfort in the familiar once again. Of all the things I imagined finding tonight, Miss Granger weeping was not one of them.
Slightly disarmed, he returned to his rooms promptly. When he returned, he found the fireplace had been lit, and his favorite book and another dram had been placed on the small table by his favorite chair. Undoing his cufflinks and his boots, he sat down.
I wonder what that idiot Weasley boy did to upset her this time. I wouldn't have expected Miss Granger to be such a foolish girl. Allowing herself to get upset by such a dunderhead. It's a wonder you can't hear the wind whistle through Weasley's head when you get close enough to him. Hmmm. I'll have to remember this the next time he messes up in one of my classes. A good twap to the back of the head should do us all some good.
He gave a little half smile at the thought of smacking Mr. Wealey on the back of the head with a book. Severus lay back in his chair and enjoyed the warmth from the fireplace. As he sat there sipping on his dram, staring at the ceiling in his sitting room he'd charmed to look like the night sky, he thought of the unintentional distraction which had presented itself to him in that tower.