Chapter 9

I've gone insane. Completely, totally, utterly, lock-me-in-a-padded-room-with-a-special-white-jacket insane. I'm sitting in the library waiting for Lily Evans to show up…and I can't wait for her to get here. That's right, within the span of a month I have somehow managed to turn my most hated enemy into my only hope for happiness. You can't make this stuff up. Perhaps my life should be featured on one of those ridiculous Muggle 'reality shows' that Cassie watches in the summers. At this point, it seems to be about as real as they are.

I hear footsteps and whip my head towards the door so fast that a pain shoots through my neck. Smooth, way to be nonchalant El! Why am I so anxious and bothered about meeting Evans, you ask? Because Severus will be with her. This is Phase 1 of Evans' plot to get Sev to fall 'madly in love' with me, as she says. Evans has asked Sev to help her tutor me, and he agreed. She seemed mildly surprised that he had acquiesced so easily, but I am sure all she had to do was bat her pretty emerald eyes at him and he'd agree to be dipped in a vat of Fiendfyre.

No! I have to stop thinking like that. I have to stay positive. After all, this was what I had wanted; to spend time with Sev and get to know each other better. Granted, there were no red headed Sirens in my plan, but if life has taught me anything its that you have to roll with the punches. Suddenly, a flash of that aforementioned red hair catches my peripheral vision, and I turn my head, slowly and casually this time. Sure enough, there she is…and he is right by her side.

My breath hitches as I take in his shining obsidian locks that sway ever so slightly with his movement, his deep, intense eyes that are focused purposefully on the seating area, and the graceful way his lithe body glides through the stacks of books. His robes are unbuttoned and I can see the crisp white dress shirt that accentuates his chest and black pressed pants that fall perfectly over his hips. A flare of heat fills my chest as want and desire hit me full blast. Bloody hell! Why did I ever agree to this? I am going to say something epically stupid and make a fool of myself, I just know it!

Evans waves, and somehow my brain manages to free a neuron or two from its lust induced stupor and I give her a small wave back just before they reach the table.

"Hey Ellie!" she greets me with grating cheeriness. "I hope you don't mind, I brought Severus to help with our session today. You know Severus, right?" she asks coyly.

"Yes, hello Severus," I greet politely, desperately hoping my face isn't as flushed as I fear it is.

"Good afternoon Eleanor," he replies in his undeniably sexy drawl, emphasizing each syllable and making my heart skip a beat. I smile as Evans chimes in.

"Sev!" she scolds as she shoves his side lightly, "she hates being called that. I told you, call her El or Ellie."

"No!" I hear myself say a bit too quickly and too loudly. They both look at me as if I've grown an extra head. "I mean, it's fine. I really don't mind," I add more softly. After all, when he says it, it sounds wonderful. Evans smirks at me and giggles, earning herself a surreptitious death glare from me.

"Very well," Severus answers as he takes out his potions book. "Lily was telling me that you were having some difficulty with the theory behind mood altering potions and their effects as tied to the genetic traits of the person utilizing them. Is that correct?"

"Huh?" I ask, having been lost in a daydream of Severus and I sitting under the shade of the large oak by the lake, watching the giant squid playfully reach out of the water, my head resting on Severus's shoulder as he gazes down at me with a soft smile and he runs his long fingers through my hair. "Oh, yeah, mood changing potions, right."

"It is a complex subject. Perhaps an analogy would work better than the literal explanation. I've noticed you are rather fond of music, are you not?"

"Yes, definitely," I answer in a mild state of shock. Severus knows something about me? Something that he didn't learn from randomly being assigned as my partner in a class, or revealed at a class rankings awards ceremony? Amazing!

"Perhaps this will help, then. Mood altering potions are a bit like a song. The song itself can be sung by anyone, as a mood altering potion, or MAP, can be given to anyone. The type of MAP, be it joyful, despondent, angry, or any other emotion, does not in and of itself, change. It remains whatever it was brewed to be, much as the words and notes of a song remain constant. However, it cannot be denied that a song is drastically influenced by who is singing it. Think of the different impact and effect that Bob Dylan's version of All Along the Watchtower has from Hendrix's, or the widely divergent feels of The Shirelle's rendition of Baby It's You verses Smith's…what?" Severus asks, noticing that both Lily and I are staring at him questioningly, mouths gaping open.

"You're into music?" I ask, wide-eyed and trying desperately to repress my giddy excitement.

"As a matter of fact, yes. Though I hardly think it's worth going slack-jawed over," he replies with an air of defensiveness and a tightness in his jaw.

"SEV!" Lily exclaims as she slaps him lightly on the arm. "All this time we've known each other and I never knew you liked music! Muggle music at that! Why didn't you tell me?"

"You never asked," he replies plainly, still seemingly put off as he crosses his arms over his chest tightly. Lily flashes me a lost look and shrugs slightly in Severus's direction, silently telling me that she isn't sure what is wrong with him.

"That's great," I say to him after gathering my resolve and trying to steady my breathing. I will my face not to flush as he raises his head abruptly, directing his piercing dark gaze away from the table and up to my eyes. "I fancy myself somewhat of a music aficionado, and I can tell you from experience that most people, let alone wizards, wouldn't have a clue who sang those songs. I'm quite impressed," I admit, my words sounding much steadier than I feel.

Severus looks at me with an analytical stare for a moment, apparently trying to figure out if I am mocking him or not, before a small smile graces his strong, pink lips. I think this is what a heart attack feels like. I may need a Muggle surgeon. My heart feels like it is going to explode! I can feel myself smiling back at him, much wider.

He clears his throat-sweet Merlin that is sexy!- and turns his attention back to the potions book. "So, just as the songs' words and notes stay the same, but the effect is different, such is the case with Mood Altering Potions. They have varying effects depending on the subject taking them. Does that make it clearer?" he asks, looking

I shake off the euphoric fog that has descended upon me and think about his words. "Completely!" I say with genuine enthusiasm. I get it! I finally get it! I don't need help understanding much in potions, but this theory always seemed to elude me, no matter how many times Slughorn tried to explain it to me. Now, with one analogy from Severus, it was clear as day! "You're a genius! Thank you Severus!"

Much to my surprise, Severus blushes slightly. It is quite faint, and very brief, but it was unmistakably a blush. "That is a gross exaggeration, but I am…pleased…that you comprehend the concept now," he states in a perfectly composed and proper tone. "If my services are no longer needed, I'll excuse myself. Good evening Lily, Eleanor," he says in that same tone as he stands up and gathers his things.

"Thanks Sev! See you later," Lily says cheerfully.

"Thank you, very much," I reply sincerely. He nods slightly and sweeps out of the library. I can't help but audibly sigh at the loss of his presence. The moment the library door banged shut after him, Lily let out another of her girlie squeals, breaking me of my reverie.

"That was amazing!" she exclaims happily. "He smiled at you! Severus never smiles at anyone!"

"He smiles at you," I counter with a bit of jealousy seeping through in my voice.

"Yes, but that's because I've known him since we were mere babes. The point is, in all my years at Hogwarts, I have never seen him genuinely smile at anyone else. I knew this would work! You two are so cute together!" she squeals as her emerald eyes dance madly.

I roll my deep brown eyes in response to her, but I can't repress the small curl of a smile that tugs at my lips.

"Lovely Lily! There you are!" a joyous tenor rings out, far too loudly for the library.

"Mr. Potter," the librarian calls out in exasperation, "I have warned you a thousand times. If you cannot keep your voice at a reasonable level you will be banned from this library. I don't need any more trouble from you Marauders. Do you understand?"

"Yes Madam," he replies in a bored tone before whipping around again to focus squarely on the red head seated across from me. The movement shows off his sinewy muscles that have been built up from years of being a Quidditch Chaser, and his disheveled mop of thick black hair flows wildly for a moment. Looking at him objectively, I can see where many of the girls find him attractive, in that 'boy next door' sort of way, and I am sure his status as the school's Quidditch star certainly aides him, but to me, he is nothing more than a pompus jerk who thinks he is entitled to anything he wants. And Severus is far more attractive. I'll take the dark, mysterious, brooding type over the excitable, athletic jock any day.

"What do you want James?" Lily asks as she sighs in his direction. There is a blatant edge of annoyance in her voice, but it is mixed with a dash of something else…something that sounds suspiciously like amusement. My theory is confirmed by the edges of her mouth turning slightly upward.

"The same thing I always want," he replies airily as he half sits upon the table, sidling up next to Lily. "You." He adds in a low, seductive tone.

Before I can think about it or stop myself, a derisive snort comes out of my mouth, drawing both of their attentions. Lily chuckles and shakes her head. "Thanks Severus," she mocks. I guess he has the same low tolerance for cheesy pick up lines as I do.

Potter's response is not quite so light hearted. He glares at me as if I've just insulted his mother. "And who, exactly, do we have here? Given the petulant attitude, I'm almost inclined to believe Lily that you are the greasy git."

"Potter, shouldn't you be running along to your next class now? You know, Potions for Pillocks?" I retort calmly, evoking a hearty laugh from Lily, who is nearly crying she is chuckling so hard.

James eyes her and his face flushes deep crimson. "Are you truly Snivellus? I mean, we all know he's a nancy-boy, perhaps he's-or you've -finally stopped pretending and transfigured yourself into a girl. I have to say Snivy, this look is an improvement over the big-nosed, greasy haired bastard that you were bef-"

A wash of rage crashes over me at his insults and before I know it, I am bolting up out of my chair, balling my fists, and slugging him hard across the cheek. He falls to the floor, clutching his bleeding face in utter shock.

"MISS BRADFORD!" the librarian shouts as Lily gasps and I hear the gossiping murmurs of all of the students in the library. "To the Headmaster-NOW!" she huffs at me.

FUCK! Really? I'm getting my second trip to Dumbledore's in a month? After years of not having a single incident on my record? This is getting ridiculous! Especially since Potter deserved it. Still, I lower my head in submission and march out the door towards the gargoyle guarded staircase. I briefly think of just ditching, but I know that Dumbledore will be expecting me, even if the librarian doesn't contact him. He always has a weird way of seeming to know everything. Perhaps he has surveillance spells all over the castle.

All too soon I arrive and, as suspected, the gargoyle opens the moment I step near it. I sigh and head up the moving staircase. "Miss Bradford," his light cheery voice greets me. "It seems our little visits are becoming something of a tradition. Sherbert lemon?" he offers.

"Why not?" I reply with a shrug, giving into the fact that there is no way I am going to escape punishment this time and might as well have something sweet to counteract the sour sentence I am about to be dealt.

"I hear you and Mr. Potter had a bit of a scuffle in the library. I must say, Eleanor, I was quite shocked to hear it. You have never been involved in an act of violence in your life," he says calmly.

Involuntarily I wince, knowing that statement isn't true, but I recover quickly. "I'm sorry. I lost my temper. I assure you it won't happen again."

"I'm sure it won't. I am however, quite curious as to the catalyst of your altercation. Is there something going on that I should be made aware of?"

"You mean besides the fact that you have an infestation of troglodytes at this school, posing as students?" I snap. Thankfully Dumbledore only chuckles and silently waits for me to continue. "Um, Potter was just being a pra- annoying," I amend as Dumbledore smiles knowingly at me.

"I see," he says, clearly really saying elaborate.

I explain to him how Potter was insulting Severus and I notice that his eyes widen marginally as something such as realization seems to settle upon him. He regains his characteristic laid-back composure almost immediately, though. Then he grins. An infuriatingly wide, smug, knowing grin.

"Despite the fact that I understand you were defending the honor of someone you care for, I am afraid I cannot condone violence in my school, and I will be forced to take house points, as well as issue a detention."

"I understand," I say sheepishly, incredibly disappointed in myself for letting Potter get the better of me, but still not truly regretting my actions. I am assigned to polish all of the trophies in the trophy room, by hand, and docked twenty points, then sent on my way. I reach the door before Dumbledore softly calls out to me, halting me.

"Oh, Eleanor, good luck with Severus. He can seem quite aloof, as I am sure you have noticed, but he really is a remarkable young man, underneath all of that derision."

"I know," I reply emphatically, without hesitation. He nods and I head out the door hearing him mumble softly to himself as I go.

"I'm sure you do," he says.