The door slammed hard enough to rattle the bottles on the shelves behind her.

Evangeline balled her fists and grit her teeth in anger. It took all the control she had to not go back in and let that insufferable man have it.

Since school had started she and Severus had established a grudging truce with one another to make the months bearable. For the most part, they had been able to stick to it and live in relative harmony. At least until Christmas had approached.

She was going to take a trip into Hogsmeade to buy gifts for a few of the faculty that had been helping her since her arrival to show her appreciation. Before leaving though, she had stopped by her mentor's office.

"Professor Snape?" she asked as she rapped on the door with her knuckles.

"What is it?"

Evangeline frowned. Severus sounded grouchier than usual.

Sliding her hand down the door, she grasped the handle and pushed on the heavy oak wood to force it open. She always had trouble opening the heavy door, even now after all this time she had found the only way to get in was to use her weight against it. "Professor, I-"

"Don't!"

Too late. Evangeline had opened the door and entered the room. She stopped just a couple of steps inside and froze in surprise.

Severus jumped to his feet quickly, his hand moving to cover the image before him even though Evangeline had already seen it. He could feel his stomach knot in dread and face flush in fury.

"Who told you that you were allowed to barge into my private quarters?" he hissed darkly.

For the first time, the dense girl backed down from him. Good.

"I just…"

Her voice trailed off as her eyes focused on the obscured image beneath his hand.

It was of a woman. A rather lovely woman, actually, with flaming red hair and dazzling green eyes.

The picture seemed to be several years old, taken on a Quidditch pitch with two other girls and a tall and broad shouldered boy with blonde hair. But there was no trace of a young Snape in the photo.

"Who is she?" Evangeline asked suddenly.

For a moment, all that was sour and dark about Severus Snape melted away, exposing a side of his that Evangeline never would have thought existed. He looked tender, vulnerable…human.

Of course, as soon as he realized his guard had dropped, all the ugly returned. Severus was once again Professor Snape.

"That's none of your concern."

His spine went rigid as he watched her through narrowed eyes, challenging her to keep inquiring.

Evangeline's brow furrowed a bit as she stared at him, her hand still on the handle of the door. Well, the Human Snape was a short lived experience, now wasn't it?

Since he had given her the courtesy of not asking about the horned toad some months before, she chose not to pursue the subject of the woman in the picture.

"I was going into Hogsmeade," she said softly. "I was curious as to whether you'd like to come with me or not."

Severus didn't reply. He just blinked. Astonished. Had she just asked him to join her? No one asked Severus to go anywhere with them. Only Lily…

Clearing his throat, the Potions Professor righted himself and slipped the picture under his palm into an open drawer which he promptly locked. "Enlighten me; why in Merlin's robes would I want to go anywhere with you?"

That stung a little more than it should have.

"I just didn't want you to have to spend Christmas alone. That's all," Evangeline replied softly.

Severus frowned. Why did she sound like his words had hurt her? Surely she had gotten used to his cold demeanor by now.

"Miss Delacroix," he started, his arms folding across his chest. "I have observed the winter holidays by myself for a number of years and will keep that tradition going. Now, if you're done wasting my time, please leave."

Her expression of sadness was quickly replaced with the frustration he was accustomed to seeing. "My apologies, Professor. Have a good afternoon."

With that the young woman stormed out, slamming the door behind her and causing some of the potions on the table by the door to teeter dangerously.

Severus fell into his chair to slump over his desk. His arms had unfolded from their arrogant positioning to rest in his lap. He suddenly felt nauseous. More troubling than the threat of being sick was the realization that he had not felt that way since the time he had called Lily Evans a "Mudblood."

And he couldn't explain why.