Chapter 4: The Television
The week progressed at a steady pace. The cats flourished in their new home and weren't even upset at the change of scenery. Severus was at first stunned by the idea of having animals in the house and had refused point blank to feed them – though Rosie had once caught him giving one of them some left over chicken.
In fact, unless she was very much mistaken Severus was becoming more and more accustomed to having Rosie in the house. He didn't seem to be under the pretence of being polite – Rosie felt that it was not his nature to be nice to someone's face, only to bitch about them behind their back. Severus would have done it in front of their face and not given a damn about the consequences.
And Rosie was becoming very used to living in the Victorian mid-terrace. She was beginning to consider it her home. She got on well with Severus and loved the area. She couldn't see herself leaving in a hurry – there was just one thing missing...
At 8 o'clock on morning there was a knock on the door. Unfortunately it was Severus who answered it, Rosie wasn't up yet. Severus stormed to the door. He was in a bad temper and had no idea why, sometimes these rages just came on and it was all he could do to stay calm. In these moods anything and everything annoyed him, cling film sticking to his fingers, cats in the way, the holes in his socks, so having a person knocking on your door in the morning was doing nothing to improve the way he felt.
He wrenched open the door and glared at the person before him. It was a man in his thirties; he was chubby and looked distinctly gormless. Another way to impress Severus Snape, look as if you don't which way your head is fixed on.
"Yes?" he snarled. "Can I help you?"
"Er...yes – I think so."
"You think do you? Well that's very good of you."
"Huh?"
"Never mind," Severus muttered. "By the time you get it it'll be midnight – if we're lucky."
"I have a delivery for R. Watermouth."
"Really?"
"Er, yes I do. You're not the person are you?"
"I beg your pardon?" Severus growled incredulously. "No parent would be as cruel as to name their son Rosie Watermouth – not even mine."
"Didn't have a good childhood then?" he asked. Why did people have to be so good-natured and concerned – no, strike that, why did people have to be so nosy?
"Does it show?" asked Severus ironically. He opened his mouth but Severus cut him off. "I don't care you stupid man! Why on Earth are you here at this time of day – at any time of day for that matter."
"I've got a delivery for Rosie Watermouth."
"Stupidity should be made a crime," Severus muttered to himself rolling his eyes. Then he turned back to the man and spoke loudly as if addressing an incredibly dense person (which in retrospect he was). "Yes, you've already said that. What have you come to deliver?"
"A parcel," he said looking slightly concerned for his own well being.
Severus snarled audibly, the man jumped. "A parcel containing what?"
"A – a television I think, sir."
Suddenly Severus felt something brush past him and Rosie was at the door taking the parcel from the man, trying to conceal a grin. "Thank you," she said through suppressed giggles. "Your parcel has managed to get through the new security device," she gestured at Severus and the man smiled weakly, "you can never be too careful. Thanks a lot. Bye!" She closed the door as he walked away down the path. The she put the parcel down and burst out laughing.
"What?" he asked, bristling.
"I love the way in only a few minutes you have a fully grown man quivering in his boots and addressing you as 'sir' – you frightened the life out of him you know!"
Severus smiled. "Served him right, never met anyone so dense in all my life and I've met many, many people."
"I hope you're not like this to your students!"
"I'm afraid I am," he said sighing.
"No I think they are," he frowned slightly and she explained. "Afraid."
Something clicked and he mouthed 'oh'.
She smiled and moved the package into the front room and set it down on the floor by the window near the fireplace.
"So," said Severus who had followed her in to the room and was sitting on a sofa watching her. "What is it?"
"It's a television or TV or telly – whatever you want to call it."
"I see, and, er," he paused, looking slightly lost, "what does it do?"
"You'll see."
Rosie took the TV out of its box and set it on the empty table by the window, then she took the cable and slotted it into the back of the machine and plugged it in to the socket.
"I noticed that you had plug sockets in your house so I thought I'd take advantage."
"The last owners were Muggles," Severus told her.
Rosie stood back to admire the effect and the bent down and switched the machine on. A picture of a man reading the news came onto the screen, Severus gasped.
"He's moving and – and talking!" he whispered excitedly. "Look! I can hear what he's saying!"
"Of course you can – this is what a TV does, it plays you lots of programmes, this is the news, he's talking about world events."
Severus shot her a look, "Just because I've never seen a TV before doesn't mean that I've forgotten everything. You don't need to tell me what the news is!"
"Sorry. So do you like?" Rosie asked.
"I like," he said in awe.
"I knew you would!" she said and she walked over to him and hugged him tightly. At first Severus didn't realise what had happened and then he froze. This was their first contact and Severus was nervous. But after a few seconds he realised that he needn't be and hugged her back. It was a nice, warm hug – he wasn't used to them and was almost disappointed when she let go.
"What was that for?"
"For being a great housemate," she said. Funny how the term didn't sound horribly sweet and sugary when she said it. "And for making me laugh," it took a while for Severus to realise that she meant to deliveryman.
"I'll make us some tea," he said.
"No, no. You sit here," she pushed him down onto the sofa, "and play with the TV – it is your friend, be nice." She handed him the remote.
"What do I do with this?"
"See if you can work it out," Rosie said grinning and she walked into the kitchen to make some tea almost laughing at the way Severus held the remote as though it would bite.
Later that night Severus and Rosie sat in the lounge with plates of food on their laps watching the television. It had been Severus' idea – he had watched the TV avidly all afternoon. Rosie supposed that the charm of it would wear off soon enough and Severus would come to treat it with the same consideration as his did the bath or the fridge.
However Rosie decided to take advantage of the situation. Severus was engrossed in the telly and therefore did not notice Rosie staring fixedly at him.
She was admiring his face. She loved it and had come to view his face as unconventionally handsome. He had a large aquiline nose, which Rosie liked very much indeed. It was the most obvious of his features and not at all to his taste but Rosie loved it. It was slim and – oh – she didn't know, just so delicious and kissable. That was it! His nose was kissable, she could rub her face against it and tap it and drive him mad but it was still a lovely nose.
Then there was his mouth, his lips were thin but still attractive, he had a nice jaw which, thank the Lord, was not a square one – she hated square jaws! Then there were his eyes; deep fathomless pools of obsidian, though Rosie could have sworn that they had become less cold in the short time that she had known him. His eyes were possibly his best feature, they were almond shaped and long lashed giving his eyes a defined shape to them. Then there was his other possibly best feature (oh, there were so many, how could Rosie decide?), his eyebrows. Rosie had a fetish about eyebrows, hands, eyes and shoes and all of these things were perfect. His brows weren't thin and neither were they thick, they were shapely with not a hair out of place on them. It was almost as though he plucked them – Rosie nearly snorted out loud, Severus Snape would never pluck his eyebrows.
Then there were his shoes, no they weren't shoes, Rosie had seen them off his feet, they were boots, finely made, Italian leather boots. They were black, like everything else in his wardrobe and they were long and slim and elegant. Really very like him.
"You do realise that you have an excellent taste in shoes," Rosie said when he finally muted the television after the programme he had been watching finished.
"Sorry, what was that?"
"Your shoes, they're very nice. You have good taste."
"Oh," he looked slightly surprised. He looked down at them. "Thanks. Well, the face isn't too brilliant so I thought that my feet could at least look decent."
"What do you have against your face?"
"What do I have against my face? Have you seen it? I'm hideous!"
"What don't you like?"
"My face," he said.
"Don't be stupid, there must be something you don't like more than anything else," Rosie could bet that it was going to be his –
"My nose. It's horrible. Too big."
"Large, I'd say."
"Hooked, I would."
"Aquiline."
"Roman," he said.
"Elegant."
He snorted. "Don't be ridiculous, that's the point, it's not elegant. It sticks out a mile and looks totally out of place."
Rosie sensed that it was time to move on to a different subject. He actually seemed quite angry about his own appearance – Rosie would never have guessed that he would be so self-conscious.
"There must be something about you that you do like – and no, not shoes, they don't count!" she added as he opened his mouth.
"Well, I don't really know, I've never thought about what I like on my face."
"Maybe you should, it'd cheer you up, here," she magicked a mirror out of thin air and passed it to him, "have a look at yourself."
He did, for a long time, examining his face critically. There didn't seem to be anything that he actually liked without fault and Rosie thought that there was something underneath his hatred of his appearance.
"Well?" Rosie asked after a few silent minutes. "Anything there you like?"
"My eyebrows are adequate I suppose."
"Really?" Rosie said grinning. She got up and moved over to sit next to him and brought her hands up to his face. She cupped his face and turned it round so he was looking at her.
He seemed somewhat surprised that she was touching his face but he did not pull away. Rosie looked over his face and then said,
"I like your eyebrows too," she moved her face closer to his. He blinked coolly but did not look away from her. He appeared totally indifferent to her. "And your eyes and your mouth," she continued. She stopped and brought her mouth closer to his. Their lips were near to each other's now and she could feel his breath on her face. They stayed motionless for a few moments, his lips looking so tender and appealing, "and your nose," she added softly, tapping the bridge of his nose with her forefinger. He suddenly withdrew from her touch and brushed himself away from her hands.
He swallowed and looked at the floor.
"Are you all right?" Rosie asked, concerned.
"I'm fine," he muttered croakily.
"Are you sure there's nothing more to your hatred of your appearance than you thinking that you're ugly?"
"There is," he said heavily. "But I don't wish to talk about it."
Rosie, however, was determined to pursue the subject. "Were you bullied at Hogwarts?"
"What does it matter if I was?" he hissed.
"Were you?" asked Rosie more firmly.
He bowed his head slightly and then, after a minute or two, nodded.
"Oh, Sev!" Rosie gasped and she put her arms over his shoulders. "Come here!"
He lent awkwardly into her body and at first he was totally rigid, but then he slumped across her, laying his head on her lap and sitting there silently.
Rosie realised that he wouldn't tell her about his time at school on this occasion, but the omission that he had been bullied was a milestone. She softly stroked his hair with her right hand while the other gently rubbed his body. They sat like that for a while, Rosie trying to ignore the sensation that having his head on her lap was creating and Severus trying to ignore the tingling feeling he was getting wherever her hands touched his body.
A/N: If you read, please review!
