Hayes, Bellevue. Gryffindor.
Sometimes, you can't let others make up your mind for you…
Sometimes, you need to make your own mistakes…
A Snape/OC fanfic.
Disclaimer: Excepting Bellevue Hayes (so far) everything else belongs to JK Rowling
A/N: Thanks to McNa and Bai for the kind reviews, and to Tiny for beta-reading… I'm glad you're liking this story so far; I just hope future chapters don't disappoint *smiles*
~ One ~
The Gryffindor common room slowly emptied as students started to make their way up to the dormitories. Like her, they probably thought that after a certain time of night, it just seemed wrong to do homework. Not to mention the words of her Potions book were starting to blur before her eyes.
The crackling of the fire pierced her subconscious, drawing her attention. However, there was something else competing for her attention. It had crossed her mind briefly earlier on, but she hadn't wanted to think about it then.
Not that she really wanted to think about it now. The look on Snape's face had been priceless when he had looked into her cauldron. She'd never got the hang of Potions, but the manner in which she worked had never belied the fact.
Then he had asked her to stay behind. She had waited patiently for her punishment, not daring to look at him squarely in the eye. When he had sat directly in front of her, she had felt slightly unnerved, but to look any way but straight would have been rude.
She need not have worried, for he did not stay there for long. When she had next looked at him, he was back behind his desk. His vantage point, she supposed. It was then that she had thought maybe Snape was something like her.
If indeed he was like any one normal, she thought, then he deserved a "good night" at the very least. Not wanting to break the silence too much she spoke quietly, and then without knowing if he had heard her or not, had left the dungeon.
Letting some of her thoughts leave the back of her mind, she descended to the seventh-years dormitory. Excepting the moon, there was barely any light in the room. There were times when darkness was to be appreciated. However, as she silently cursed to herself when her knee came into contact with the edge of her bed, now was not one of those times.
She listened intently, but no one seemed to have woken up. She undid the buttons on her school shirt slowly, almost seductively, some would say. It was not intended to be, and she did not realise. She paused briefly at the window, but then hastened to get into bed.
Snape. With a slight scoff, she realised that she may as well allow her thoughts a name. It wasn't as if she could pretend that someone else was featuring in her thoughts. Just like she couldn't pretend that she wasn't curious.
Intricate. The word reverberated through her mind.
Now that she had no longer confined those thoughts to the back of her mind, they had overthrown any kind of conclusion she might have started to make.
Like some students wished they could make Potions that had gone wrong disappear, she wished that the same could be done for her thoughts. They were wrong also.
She closed her eyes, but it was of no use. Her thoughts formed pictures that spoke more then a thousand words.
Like so many things do, the sleep that found her that night came at a price.