A/N It was hard writing the second half of this chapter, but it's a bridge that needed to be crossed eventually
"I just feel it would be best if you let someone else teach her from now on. She isn't getting the attention she needs from me, and she studies well enough that anyone can look after her. I've been so preoccupied I can't handle it anymore." He made his argument, but he knew it wasn't very strong. Dumbledore wasn't going to go for any of it.
He was unable to handle being around her at all. Night was the worst. He would have these horrifying dreams that woke him up with that same sick feeling he experienced whenever he was in a room with her. He couldn't eat, he barely slept, and it was starting to affect his teaching.
Dumbledore smiled at him. How did he always seem to see right through everything you told him?
"Severus, I have known you for quite a while," the tone of his voice was gentle, the way someone would talk to a child, "and I know you can handle difficult tasks. This one is far easier than most, and you were doing well up to a point. I know watching Draco and making my potions isn't that draining, so what is the real reason you don't want to look after the girl anymore?" He folded his hands on the desk and stared straight into Snape's eyes, making him a bit uncomfortable.
"Honestly? You seem pretty sure of my reason without me even telling you, so why don't you tell me?" Snape asked in a rather commanding tone. He wanted to prove him wrong, just once. Mostly he was trying to avoid telling him the real reason.
As upset as he was, he felt a bit bad about giving up on something that probably was extremely important to the old man. He was dying, after all.
"You want to know what I think your problem is? Well you've made it fairly obvious, haven't you?" Dumbledore beamed at him across the desk, "You're in love with her."
Snape's jaw dropped. That wasn't the answer he expected at all, and he had absolutely no retort. Obviously he was wrong; completely wrong. Snape knew what love felt like, didn't he? His unrequited love had been driving him his entire life. He would have known love if it snuck up on him again suddenly. She was just a girl, and his student.
"Severus, are you alright? You had realized it hadn't you?' Concern spread over his face where the smile danced moments before.
"I am certainly not in love with her Albus. She is my student and a child. Besides, you already know where my heart lies. Is it not what you have used in your favor the past several years?" He was shouting now. Where was all this anger suddenly coming from?
"Calm down my friend." Dumbledore moved around the desk and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I know you think you love Lily, but you were young then, and this obsession has been haunting you your entire life. Sometimes you need to let yourself be happy again and let it go. Here is your chance to be carefree again."
Dumbledore had put a lot of thought into this ever since he noticed Snape's behavior towards the girl changing. The age difference was a bit troubling, but maybe it was something they both needed, to finally get a taste of freedom. Just getting him to let go of the past would be a small victory.
Snape shrugged away from his comforting gesture and stood up.
"I think I need to spend some time alone. Excuse me." He left without another look at the headmaster. He was insulted, hurt, angry, confused. He didn't actually know what he was feeling, and that was probably the worst part. The sick feeling he got whenever he was around her? That wasn't love as he remembered it.
Of course, he didn't remember what actual love felt like anymore. Dumbledore was at least right about that. All he had known for years was obsession.
Athelina was so absorbed in her work she didn't even notice the second plate come up at dinnertime. She almost fell out of her chair when he walked in a few minutes later and grabbed it. Why was he suddenly eating in his office? She put her own work down to eat, expecting him to leave again after he was done. However, she still heard him shuffling papers after her plate had disappeared. He didn't have that much work to do did he? It was the longest he'd been in the office in weeks.
She needed some sneaky way to see what he was up to. It wasn't her business, but she had little else to do.
She decided to act like she had misplaced a book. She chose one she hadn't used in a month or so and stuck it under her dresser. Maybe it was a bit over the top, but she needed to cover all her bases. She headed for the door with her best attempt at a bothered and confused expression.
"Oh, I'm sorry sir! I didn't know you were still here." She smiled a bit then started looking around the floor. He shuffled whatever he was looking at under a piece of parchment. There was no quill, and it didn't seem like he was marking anything. What was he looking at he didn't want her to see? She needed to get a closer look. She moved towards the desk.
"Is there something I can help you with Miss Kinsey? I'm a rather busy man." His voice was the usual silky drawl he addressed his students with. It hurt her, and she didn't understand why.
Maybe she just hadn't seen herself as one of his regular students. She had apparently been wrong. Had she really just been another annoying child to him, and he reached the point where he could no longer pretend she wasn't? It made no sense.
She realized she never answered his question, and she almost forgot her fake reason for standing in front of his desk. "Oh…I was just… looking for a book I was missing. I thought it might be out here somewhere." She skimmed the top of his desk as if she thought the little stacks of parchment might be hiding her giant textbook. Even she had to admit it was a difficult story to believe. His hand shot to whatever he had been covering up just as she reached towards it. She barely brushed his hand, and he suddenly went tense. He was looking a bit ill, actually. She didn't remove the offending fingers, just continued to stare at him.
"I have seen nothing of yours, and if I did it would be returned to your room just as you are about to be. Thank you." He jerked his hand back, taking the stack of paper and shoving it in a drawer. She accepted defeat and left the room, more confused than she was before.
He had been sitting in his office, trying to figure out what the root of his problem really was. He loved Lily Evans. It was the one solid fact that allowed him to go on every day. How could Dumbledore even suggest he suddenly let it all go for a little girl?
Well, she wasn't exactly a little girl he supposed. She was a young woman. She still had a long life ahead of her, plenty of time to meet a young man and fall in love.
Even if for some idiotic reason he were interested in her, why would she ever want to be with him? It was completely preposterous!
He barely touched his dinner, instead choosing to pull out the few reminders he had of Lily. It hurt to remember, but something felt different. He was starting to realize that what he missed weren't actual memories, but what he wished had been.
The pain was difficult to manage at the best of times, but this feeling that his entire life had been spent wishing for a love he would never have hurt in a completely new way.
Just when he thought he would completely break down, the door opened and the girl walked in. She was scanning the floors in a halfhearted attempt to find something. How dare she interrupt him, as if she was coming to scoff at his sorrow? He quickly hid his letters and photos as she turned around and started looking at his desk. What an insolent little creature she was!
He put his hand on the papers just before she reached out to take them, and it happened: that electricity that had been bothering him so much over the past month. What kind of new evil made his skin burn that way when she as much as brushed it? He couldn't move, and she was just standing there staring at him. He had to snap out of it, to get her out of there.
He remembered saying something and watching her leave, but whatever she did to him startled him so much he just sat there for an hour. He would have to look it up, incase she had been teaching herself some kind of dark magic all those hours he left her alone.
Over the next few days, he spent all his spare time in his office. Partly looking up any spells that allow you to burn someone else by touching them, and partly listening for anything suspicious.
He found a few spells that were potential candidates, but they all had incantations. To work, she would have had to practice wordless magic.
His plan was brilliant. All he needed to do was try to teach her wordless magic, and see how quickly she picked it up. The added bonus was having a reason to keep an eye on what she was up to.
He surprised her a bit when he announced he would be teaching her wordless magic. She remembered how much trouble his more experienced students had with it. Why was he suddenly taking an interest in her education again?
The magic was difficult, and she felt like it was going nowhere. Her mind had to concentrate on the spell completely, and it was hard with him staring at her as if she would suddenly explode. They worked for three hours straight before he finally got fed up and went back to his office.
He needed another approach to figure out what she was doing wrong. It was hard for all the other brats, but she was advancing at a pace they would never be able to fathom. Maybe it was her wand technique. He decided to try again after dinner.
She practiced the wand movements over and over again, but they made no difference. His impatience with her lack of improvement finally got to him, and he reached out to grab her wand and show her.
This time it was his hand that brushed hers, and the burning came back. There was no way she could have initiated that. He jumped back and dropped the wand. The look of shock in her eyes confirmed that this was no dark magic on her part.
He mumbled some excuse as to where he was going and left her there to feebly attempt the spells again.
He took a walk up one of the towers, trying to collect his thoughts. He remembered how he liked to walk and think when he was young. There was no pain then, and no burning sensation torturing his skin. All he remembered was the fluttering sensation he felt whenever Lily looked at him. He could remember her face perfectly. He dreamed of it most nights, when he wasn't plagued with nightmares.
He stayed out until everyone else was asleep, and collapsed on his bed.
The dreams came back again, but this time, the face was distorted, the picture wasn't as clear. She was fading from his mind. Soon there was no way to tell who the young woman was.
Only one part of the image was visible enough to distinguish. Two eyes were staring at him, very clearly from the blurred face, and they certainly weren't green.