Chapter 4 - Let the Sun Shine, Let the Sun Shine in.
"I told you to look down the hall!" the muffled voice screamed, "Haven't
you -"
But Severus wasn't listening. Instead, he kept tapping the door in a regular
pattern. Over.
And over. And over. And when she started to yell, he just started humming
in the most
god awful off-key manner he could. Until finally the door
opened.
"Hello." He smiled wryly. She glared.
"What? What is it? Why must you cause so much noise? What are you
doing?"
"My dearest Ophelia," he started, taking her in with a quick glance. Waif.
Pale. Scowling.
Childish mouth. Small pointed nose. Darting grey eyes, almost white.
Obnoxiously
large cross.Impossibly long black braid. He imagined it was probably
tied as a noose
at the end. A bloody gothic tart. "I only--"
"Ophelie. Ophel-ie." She looked upwards and crossed her arms. "Why
can't anyone say
my proper name?"
"Calm yourself. No need to lose patience before the children arrive." He
laughed at her.
Silently, of course. What a fool Dumbledore had become. She'd jump out
the window
before the first week was done. "You're French?"
"Well, isn't it obvious?" she sighed, exaggerating her slight accent. "Vive
la revolution,
etcetera, plus en plus?"
"Don't speak a word, sorry. Now I was just looking for," Severus stealthily
ducked
around her and into the dimly lit office, "a few things."
"Everything I found is in that box. I gave it to you." She called, catching
his robe.
"There's nothing in here."
"You're very much mistaken. Those," he pointed to the heavy curtains, "are
mine. And I
am very," he stalked over to the window and began pulling down the thick
fabric, "much
in need of them." She gaped as sunlight poured into the room, bleaching the
room in
white. He gathered his bundle and sauntered past her.
"You can't take those." She set her jaw, watching him leave. "My things will
be ruined!"
"Better find some drapes, then." He turned to survey the room. "Christ, it's
bright in here."
Her eyes narrowed immediately. Snape realized his slip-up, but, in his usual
fashion, chose
to ignore it. "I wouldn't go livening up this little corner of Hell
now … if I were you. I'm
sure you're much lovelier without the light."
"Magicien … hérétique, païen!
Démon!"
"I humbly thank you; well, well, well. Farewell, fair
Ophelia!"
"Abruti." She mumbled as the door slammed shut. She looked woefully at her
crucifix.
* * *
Snape beamed cynically at his newly blanketed office. Much
better.
* * *
"… and lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil …"
I know, another painfully short chapter. But at least it's getting somewhere
now.
And no one's gotten her character yet -- although the physical description
isn't
as important as the habits ...
