When Luna woke and her shoes were still at the end of her bed, on her trunk where she'd placed them the night before she'd giggled with a glee she didn't know she could experience and jumped up. Despite the lingering worry that something bad was coming she was happy.
A kind of happy that made her stomach quake and her mind wander- more than it already did, and that was saying something.
It was Saturday, and she had little to do as she knew Hermione and Ginny had been planning a date to Hogsmeade, the village having been opened up to Seventh years so that they could go on the weekend whenever they pleased after the war had ended.
There were of course still Death Eaters on the loose, she knew that all too well as her father was still very keen on hiding from them. After they'd taken her the year before he'd been upset. So upset she was worried he may not really be clinging to any real shreds of his old self.
Of course, she worried for him a lot, it was her promise, the promise she'd made to herself when her mum's spell had gone awry and killed her. She would take care of her father for the rest of his life, he needed her, without her mum to care for him.
She pulled on one of her favorite weekend outfits, an oversized grey jumper and a pair of jeans Hermione had given her for Christmas. She'd fallen in love with muggle jeans from the moment she'd seen them. Both were covered in paint from her favorite hobby and that was just what she planned to do that day.
Hogwarts did not host an art class, nor did it have many rooms suited for her particular hobby because there was a lack of interest in things like painting and playing music. Luna however had been granted an empty room on the third floor, in the west corridor that was unused so long as she promised to share it should anyone else desire to use it.
Of course she'd agreed immediately.
She slipped into her shoes and tied her long hair up on top of her head, the ponytail messy with strands falling all over the place, and hooked her wand behind her ear, in its usual place. She wore her cork necklace, glad it had finally dried.
Leaving her common room she wasn't surprised to see the halls nearly empty. The weather outside, while rapidly cooling was still rather nice and she suspected most of the students would be outside, or wherever it was they spent their time playing games like exploding snap and wizard skittles.
The art room was unoccupied as usual and she took great pleasure in squeezing paints onto her pallet and setting up her canvas. She never sketched her work before painting, preferring to put the colors directly to her canvas, for this she used the wizarding paint that could be charmed to move, much like the pictures taken by wizarding photographers but it would not come to life, like say a headmaster's portrait. This only worked when the subject of the painting was dead, after all.
It took her three hours to perfect the portrait of Hermione and Ginny staring at one another, the loving burning out from their eyes and their faces set in happy little smiles.
She'd chosen a different scene from the one she'd originally promised to paint for Ginny but she was certain the redhead would like this one more.
She skipped lunch painting as she began on a new project, casting a spell on the other to dry it and watching as the images blinked lazily at one another, their eyes so expressive. She was quite proud of it.
This time she let her mind wander as she painted, her hand moving of its own accord as she thought about her week, the things that had happened. She was startled by a voice in the doorway, smooth and velvet as it rolled across her skin.
"The Headmistress said I might find you here, I wasn't aware there was any such room in the school." When she turned he was leant against the doorframe, arms crossed and eyes locked on her, or perhaps the canvas behind her.
When she turned she could see what he was staring at. She had painted him, well, to be precise she had painted a close up of his eyes, little specks of silver mixed with the dark greys and black to make his iris look as it did to her, like the night sky.
She felt the tips of her ears redden, it was really as close as she came to blushing.
"I like to paint in my free time, I let my mind wander and this is what came out. It makes sense though, they really are quite nice, your eyes that is." She paused and furrowed her brow.
"Though I believe I've already told you that and I'm certain you wouldn't like for me to repeat myself. Did you know you can tell a lot about a person based on their eyes?" She turned to motion to the portrait of Hermione and Ginny.
She'd resumed her dreamy look when she turned back to him, giving him a smile.
"And what of those who are exceptional at hiding what they are thinking, feeling?" He cocked an eyebrow at her and she smiled.
"Of course, an expert at that aren't you? I can still see you, Professor Snape. You're welcome to the painting, if you'd like." She cleaned her mess with a few fancy swishes of her wand and gathered up the painting of Ginny and Hermione to take to her friends.
She left the painting of his eyes propped on the easel as she passed him in the doorway, her eyes catching his for a brief moment, her stomach flipped and she gave him an earnest smile.
"Have a great day, Professor."
"Ms. Lovegood?" He called when she'd made it several feet from him and she turned, her mind focusing on his face.
"I require your assistance tomorrow, early morning, before dawn. Meet me in my classroom. I am in need of ingredients." She nodded, giving him a smile and shifting the painting.
"Of course Sir, I will be there early." She turned back and drifted down the hall, leaving him staring at her back.
Severus stared at the painting of eyes, his eyes, long after the witch had drifted away, staring at them intensely.
Is that how she saw them, like the endless sky at night? It was an interesting concept, and a bit of a disturbing one to know she thought of him outside of their interactions.
Of course, he thought of her as well. Often, in fact, when he couldn't sleep and lay in bed awake, staring at the ceiling he thought of her melodic voice. The way it drifted, in the same way she seemed to drift everywhere she went, the way she smiled at him, pure silvery eyes.
Still, it was a wonder a girl like Luna Lovegood would think of him in her free time. He'd been pleased to notice she wore the shoes he'd given her and he was glad the charm he'd placed on them had worked. They changed colors every so often, which had been a feature they'd come with and it had certainly made him think of the eccentric little witch. Striding into the room and taking the canvas in one hand he used his wand to dry the paint and shrink it, down so that it fit into his robe pocket. He thought of where he could put it.
He felt a little silly, he should just dispose of it and be finished with the very idea of Luna Lovegood but he simply couldn't.
No, she'd caught the attentions of something he'd buried deep inside himself, something that fought its way toward the surface relentlessly every time she released the dreamy melodic voice on him and stared at him with wide silvery eyes.
When she'd brushed the hair from his face it had been all he could do not to pounce on her, and when she wrapped him in a hug he'd had to force himself not to return the affectionate action.
How could he think of her like this, she was his student!?
Suddenly, as if out of nowhere the dark mark on his arm began to burn and he growled, ripping his sleeve up and staring at the bright red glow of the snake and skull tattoo on his forearm.
How was this possible?
The Dark Lord was dead!
He growled in discomfort and pulled his sleeve back down, ignoring the ripped material as he made his way quickly from the third floor, toward the Headmistress' office.
This was bad, he just knew it.
He nearly bowled over Draco Malfoy on his way to the office, the boy's grey eyes wide as he stared up at his Godfather, Harry was behind him, panting for breath as if they'd run all the way to the castle.
"Why?" It was all the blonde could say and for once, Severus did not have an answer.