Chapter 2 – Fighting the Unthinkable

Although Transfiguration had never been his best subject, he'd always considered himself respectable at it.  But that morning, Severus found it almost impossible to concentrate.  Desperately, he read and reread the fifth question and then scratched his head.  How do you turn a rat into stone?  How basic.  He knew this one!  But somehow, the answer stayed just out of his reach.

Frustrated, he glanced across the room to where she sat—the bane of his existence, and the one who'd seemingly frozen his brain and lowered his I.Q. by at least fifty points.  Of course, she was completely oblivious to this fact, but he hated her all the same.

Returning his attention to his exam, he angrily scribbled down an answer, no longer caring if it were right or wrong.  In a couple of hours, this agony would be over with.  He'd go back to the Slytherin dormitory and escape.  If she were out of sight…

But would she be out of mind?  Well, he certainly hoped so.  If not, it would most probably be more than his little black heart could bear.

* * *

"Time!" announced the proctor, and Severus breathed a sigh of relief.  Somehow, he'd managed to pull himself together around the exam's mid-point, and had come up with what he thought were plausible answers to all of the questions.  Although he was certain that a number of his answers were dead wrong, he was also sure that the many others were correct. Hopefully, it would be enough for a decent mark.

Hastily, he grabbed his O.W.L. paper and shoved it into his satchel, not feeling the slightest urge to pore over it and agonize over each of his answers, as he had done with all of the previous exams.  His mind was not on the test, but on something, or rather someone else, and he was determined to put as much distance between him and that someone as quickly as he could.

Without so much as a glance in her direction, he swept out of the Great Hall and into the corridor.  He was the first out, and was soon followed by dozens of chattering fifth years.

"How'd you do?" he heard one student ask.

"Aced it of course," was the cocky reply.  Severus craned his head around and wasn't surprised to see James Potter, looking smug, walking casually with Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew.  Severus quickened his step and ducked into an empty classroom, watching the four friends with a wary eye.  He didn't want a repeat of the previous day's lynching.  He wouldn't be made a mockery of two days running.

After Potter and his cohorts were safely out of view, Severus emerged cautiously from the classroom, and started for the Slytherin house.  He'd only taken five steps when he was halted by a voice from behind him.

"Snape," said the voice.  Cold.  Hard.  Not the least bit friendly.

He slowed, but didn't stop, perspiration suddenly prickling on his forehead.

"Sna--  Er, Severus," said the voice.  This time less harsh, but still not at all friendly.

Severus paused, then turned and saw her standing not ten feet behind him. She quickly cut the distance to five.  He opened his mouth to reply, but only managed a low breathy sound like one makes after being unexpectedly thumped on the back by a friendly troll.

In the meantime, she cut the distance to three feet, then stood before him, hand on one hip, head tilted to one side, her face a picture of skeptical curiosity.

"I was wondering," she began, and Severus stared fixedly at her, taking in her cool green eyes, overabundant freckles, and of course her hair, which appeared a bit unruly that day, reddish waves turning this way and that.

He finally found his voice.  "Yes?" he said, in his usual nasal tone, which always made him sound rather disdainful.

Lily Evans bit her bottom lip, and studied him for a moment.  "I was wondering," she continued, "what…were you going to tell me…in the library yesterday?"

Severus stood a little straighter, and managed a thin-lipped smile.  "I was…"  Going to apologize, he thought, before, of course, I finally came to my senses.  "I—I was just going to…"  His mind whirred in action like a snitch trapped in a jelly jar as he tried to think up a good lie.

He'd just come up with one—that he'd merely wanted to tell her that he thought her exceptionally offensive, even for a Mudblood—when she sent him for a complete loop.

First she smiled, and Severus couldn't help but marvel at how her face completely changed when she did so.  The cold seemed to melt away, replaced with warmth that actually looked genuine.  "I think I know," she said softly, looking at him with an earnestness that instantly tugged at his heart, "You were going to tell me that you didn't mean what you said yesterday…about me…"

He opened his mouth to protest, but she continued.

"I'm afraid that I owe you an apology," she said firmly.  "I insulted you, and I'm sorry.  I stooped down to their level—Potter's and Black's.  I'd meant to—"

Severus looked at her, incredulous.  "You're…sorry?"

She nodded.  "It's just…you…caught me off guard when you called me a…what you called me."

His ordinarily pale face flushed, but he remained silent.  If he ever were to apologize, he knew there would be no better time than the present.  But, strangely, he found that he couldn't do it.  And it wasn't pride, or prejudice, or anger that kept him from speaking.  It was something entirely different.  It was fear.

Fear of the possibilities.

If he and Lily were to become—could he even think it—if they were to become friends, or maybe even something more…

No, hating her was much safer.

Severus collected himself, mouth set in a thin straight line.  "I don't need, nor want your apologies," her muttered quietly, not meeting her in the eyes.  "You owe me nothing."

And with that, he walked away, leaving Lily Evans for a second time in less than a day, looking thoroughly puzzled.