It was nothing new to him, being awake in the early hours of the morning.
There were those that tried to go to sleep in order to forget what they were thinking about, but he had very soon found that sometimes, you had to yield to what you wanted to avoid.
However, something that was new to him was the nature of his thoughts. He wondered at what point he had dared to allow the thought to play with his subconscious, having the effect of an incorrect ingredient added to a Potion.
The unexpected effect. The fact that he was even allowing these thoughts to continue was unexpected in itself. Then again, when the unexpected happened, it wasn't something that could be dismissed.
He knew her shy goodbye would remain with him.
That was the problem with the unexpected. Because it had never happened before, it meant that you had to think about why it happened. What had led to it. What could happen.
Like something bad, perhaps the unexpected also came in threes.
He sincerely hoped not. The unexpected wasn't something that he was keen on. Or that he wanted to happen. And to himself, least of all.
How he hated it when things contradicted.
On one hand, he believed that the unfamiliar was best left alone. He had seen so many come to grief while facing the unknown, that he had no desire to stray into uncharted territory.
Another part of him argued, however, that something was only unfamiliar until you had experienced it. Then it became part of what you knew. It was this that was playing with his mind.
Years of Occlumency had taught him to hide his thoughts from others. While it was a difficult thing to master, even more difficult would be hiding from your own thoughts. It would be near impossible.
Suddenly, he stood up. He knew that there was something about this particular unfamiliar that he was intrigued by.
He crossed the room and out into the dim hallway, deciding to act upon the only reasonable idea that was in his head. He supposed that if he was to stay awake all night with his thoughts, then it would be better spent while he was doing something useful.
In his patrol of the school hallways however, he found himself avoiding the place where he knew she would be. Previously, he'd avoided the Gryffindor common room because it was the Gryffindor common room.
As he walked along, his sharp hearing picked up a sound coming from around the corner. Quietly, stealthily, he turned the corner, ready to surprise some unsuspecting student, to torture them. Perhaps it would end his torture.
He rounded the corner, and froze.
Student, yes. Unsuspecting, no. In fact, if anyone was surprised, it was him. By her. He had no words for her. His plan of attack had all but vanished.
She looked up at him. Her face was apologetic, but it held no fear. She was not afraid of the fact that she had been caught out of bed after hours. And by Snape. It didn't seem to bother her.
She started walking towards him. She moved slowly, almost apprehensively, until she was a couple of feet away.
He leaned against the wall, and closed his eyes. He didn't have to see her to know that she had moved closer still.
His hand twitched, but he forced it to remain by his side.
He tried to imagine what expression her face would hold, but couldn't. She had always behaved so differently to what he'd expected, that he couldn't be sure.
When she moved closer still, he just had to open his eyes. There was a shy smile on her face, almost questioning.
She didn't need to speak for him to know that their thoughts were very similar. She only had to stand there, and look at him.
He almost couldn't bear it. Her gaze burned into him, unleashing something he had never felt before.