It's after classes when she finds him, as usual. He's tucked away in his favourite window seat, head resting on his knees and the disillusionment charm up as always. It's only her who can see through it, and he wonders, not for the first time, why that is.
"Is this seat taken?" she asks brightly, like she always does, and he shakes his head. She clambers up on the opposite side, her feet poking against his.
"Hi," he says, more than a bit awkward. It never used to be like this, but that was before he was Sorted into Slytherin and she was Sorted into Gryffindor. And never the twain shall meet again, at least according to Potter and his gang of bullies. The members of his own House are more than a bit angry at his choice of friend but lay off for the most part, apparently blaming it on her being a girl. Claiming he fancies her. He does, but that's not the point. She's the best friend he's ever had, and he refuses to throw that away over a bit of House rivalry. But it's so hard sometimes.
"Hi," she replies, and her smile is more than a little sympathetic. Muggleborn or not, they are not as hard on her. She is a Gryffindor, a lion decked in crimson and gold. She can do no wrong. It's he who's corrupting her. A slimy, no-good Snake. That's what Potter spit at him the other day, before sticking his legs together and forcing him to bunny-hop to class. The waves of laughter that had followed him made his soul cringe.
They talk for a while, of classes and homework. The way they both swear that Professor McGonagall has a wand stuck up her arse. The new books they have discovered-Lily's is a book on Experimental Charms and Severus's is, as always, a book on Dark Arts. She looks slightly disapproving at this information, but says nothing, merely sits there and plays with her hair as he talks at great length about a particularly nasty curse based on blood.
"Sorry," he finally says, cheeks turning red. "You must be so bloody bored..."
"Not even," she smiles, and the light returns to her sparkling green eyes. "Only wish you'd pick happier reading material, Sev. You know."
"Yeah," he trails off, looking wistful. The clock sounds for supper, and he scrambles off the window ledge, heaving his book-bag over his shoulder. She follows more demurely, a smile still touching her lips.
"See you tomorrow?" she asks, tucking her hair behind her ears. He grins at her.
"Always."