February was always a tedious time in Hogwarts. There was too much giggling for Penny's liking. Valentine's Day brought the obsessive chatter about romance, crushes and whom would be gifting whom. The addition of the dashing Remus Lupin only heightened the feminine hysteria. Penny knew the poor man had been inundated with gifts, mostly anonymous, only because he had shown her the day before when she went to visit him. He'd grinned at her with that oh so lovely smile of his that made Penny feel inclined to join the other absurd girls and buy him a present. But she managed to regain her composure and had a very nice visit with the man. It was some kind of mercy that Valentines day fell on a Saturday and a Hogsmeade weekend. Penny and Harry were not allowed in Hogsmeade because their aunt and uncle refused to sign the permission form, and no one was inclined to bend the rules when a mass-murderer was out to get Harry, which in Penny's opinion was a fair stance, but Harry's, not so much.

In her boredom, Penny found herself in the greenhouses, opting to do some sketches for her homework that would be due the coming week. Penny yawned as she scribbled something out, beside her sketch of the valerian plan and listed the potions the plant was was used for:

Draught of Living Death

Draught of Peace

Forgetfulness Potion. . .

Yet, she was certain she was missing one from her list but she could not remember which. Her brain refused to yield to her efforts.

"The fire-breathing potion," Snape drawled from behind her.

Penny's head swiveled on her neck to find Professor Snape standing over her, reading over her shoulder.

"That's rude, you know," Penny said, slamming her book shut in her lap.

"Only you would be inclined to think being given a free answer and point on your homework is rude," he said, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"I meant reading over my shoulder."

"Don't worry, if it had been your diary I would not have been interested in the slightest. Your teenage angst remains safe."

"It's Valentine's day, I truly doubt there is an ounce of angst in this castle," Penny noted, getting to her feet to better face her professor.

"Isn't there?" Snape said, insinuation dripping from his tongue while his eyes lazed over Penny's lone form. "Then what should I make of this sight before me. No valentine, Ms. Potter?" he smirked.

"I have never required an excuse to come to the greenhouses, the only thing out of place here is you. No one good enough to warrant your affection today, professor?" Penny quipped, looking the man up and down.

"I have no such foolish needs," he said.

"No need for human contact or intimacy? If that were so you would not have made yourself known to me," Penny pointed out, arching her brow to convey she remained completely unconvinced.

"Boredom is a sufficient motivator on its own," said Snape, cooly.

"If I had the decency to blush would you tell me the real reason you don't like holidays?" Penny smirked.

Penny was helplessly curious about Professor Snape, and he seemed to be in a good enough mood to warrant the prod. With any luck he might divulge something to her.

Snape peered down his nose at her looking mildly impressed with her boldness. After a moment's contemplation he said, "Holidays were invented for those unwilling to accept their mortality. They simply serve to distract one from the inevitable and create a shallow sense of meaning."

The answer startled Penny, who raced to get the gears moving in her brain so as to have a somewhat intelligent response.

"I think you are too harsh, professor, and unrelenting in your perspective. Morality is a condition of us all, and to ignore it is as much of a fault as to be overly aware. To me holidays aren't a distraction but rather a display of acceptance of the passage of time. They are memories to carry with us during it, to remind us we are not, in fact, utterly alone," mused Penny.

Though she felt confident in what she said, Penny hadn't noticed how her own arms had crossed, hands clinging to her upper arm as though to protect herself from something unseen. Like what she said was some horrible memory that brought her a great amount of pain. Her body language did not go unnoticed by Snape, however, who's eyes were scrutinizing her fiercely, in an attempt to dig their way right into her mind and see for himself. The intensity of the gaze sent a shiver up her spine and made Penny uncomfortably self-aware.

"And you, Ms. Potter? If I am to believe what you said, then why have you foregone these memories in lieu of this greenhouse?" Snape asked in a low voice, so low Penny wasn't even sure he'd actually uttered them.

Penny's mouth opened slightly as she stared up at the man who seemed so intent on discovering something, to understand something that was so obvious to Penny. The lost look was comical and it sent Penny into a fit of laughter. This outburst unnerved Snape who looked visibly taken aback, but he waited quietly.

"I don't know about you, professor, but all of my favorite memories include you, so if you ask me, I made the right choice in coming here today," Penny shrugged.

She turned back down to her books and began packing them away, feeling mildly self-conscious about her honesty, and fearful the admission would result in him taking his leave. Severus Snape did not like anything remotely related to feelings. He was emotionally adverse, as Penny liked to think of him. But she found herself yet again surprised by the man, and as she turned to her sketchbook, his thin hand was laying something upon it.

Penny picked the flower up and brought it to her nose, it was a small daisy, so unassuming in its form, but vibrant with color. Had he really-?

Penny turned back to Snape with a questioning look, but he had already turned away from her and was waiting impatiently by the greenhouse door, tapping his foot as though he expected her to follow him. When she reached him he said nothing and neither did Penny, but the two of them quietly agreed through a lingering glance to take the long way back to the castle.

The air was brisk as she walked side-by-side with the potions master, occasionally bumping into each other, but never adjusting their distance. His company was all her disquieted spirit needed. Looking down at the daisy he'd given her, Penny smiled and held onto it as delicately as she did the silence between them.