The appearance of dusk on the horizon sent a very weary Severus Snape back into brightly lit mansion. The afternoon had passed quickly, and had not been nearly as horrible as he imagined. Most of the wizards that Severus met had been nice enough, and he had the feeling that for once he was being treated as an equal. The thought made Severus restless inside, like he was eager for something he couldn't begin to describe. Even his house mates had been, if not friendly, at least civil. Avery had even asked Severus about his summer, though he didn't bothered to really listen to his reply.
The only person that had made Snape feel ill at ease was Bellatrix. Several times he had looked up to find her staring him down, a fiery gleam in her dark eyes. She was always surrounded by a group of men, something Severus was grateful for. He had the awful feeling that if she had been alone, she would have approached him. There was something about her that made Severus nervous, and he had no desire to discover why.
Before dinner Severus took refuge in the guest room that would be his for the weekend. The room was more luxurious than any in his entire home, though from the slight stale smell the air held Severus guessed it was not used very often. He knew it must be an ridiculously large home just for two people. It was only Lucius and his sister, though he could only assume Narcissa would join them now. Severus could still remember the day nearly a year ago when their father had died. He had not known the man personally of course, but there was a whole spread in the Daily Prophet about him. For a moment, Severus wondered how he would feel if it had been his own father that had died. Relieved, probably.
Pulling a chair over to one of the room's large windows Severus pushed it open, and then sat breathing in the fresh air. It smelled of richly of a summer's night, of that pivotal moment when the sun has sunk out sight and the air begins to hum with a new darker breed of life. From somewhere down below he could hear the sound of laughter, lively yet restrained. Squinting in the fading light, Severus saw two girls racing across the lawn, their white skirts flying behind them as the ran. He recognized them at once, Livia and Esra.
They slowed as they neared the house, and Severus watched transfixed as they shook out their skirts and smoothed down their hair. He had the odd feeling that he was seeing something private, though they were standing where anyone could see. His heart quickened when Livia's head turned in his direction, her eyes appearing to rest directly on his window. The rational part of his mind knew he would be no more that a shadowy form behind the glass, but his face still burned with a fierce blush that would no subside even after she had disappeared into the mansion.
Severus had always been an observer. Partly because it had always been his nature, but also because he had always been pushed into the shadows. After his first few months at Hogwarts Severus had learned quickly that it was better to be invisible than to suffer their jokes and taunts. But near invisibility had its benefits. From quiet corners and secluded back tables Severus drank in the world around him, his quick dark eyes catching everything. It was only a matter of time before his attention turned to the most important of subjects, girls.
He studied girls with the same boundless energy that he put into his books. It didn't take him long to discover something that it would take his peers years to realize. There were pureblood girls, and then there was everyone else. Pureblood girls, at least the one's he knew, were not like the other girls. The half-blood and muggle born's that roamed the school were prone to fits of passion. They cried in anguished heaving sobs over the silliest of things, but laughed with such an unrestrained joy that he envied them. They lit up when they spoke, their faces expressing every single emotion in vivid detail. They loved, learned, and lived with such an open passion that simply watching them left Severus exhausted.
The true pureblood girls, they were different. Severus knew what some grown men even did not, that they were the ones who might never reveal their true selves. Like fragile porcelain dolls their pleasantly dull expressions never changed, never betraying a single hint of a feeling. They spoke, and laughed and nodded with the precision of a mechanical toy. They never cried, at least not where they could be seen. They never stated an opinion that was too harsh, too extreme, or too forceful. It was a frightening thought, but Severus understood that even if you had such a girl, you could never have what lurked within. She would give herself entirely to you, all but what was inside.
Poor Severus did not know what frightened him more, the detached emotionless pureblooded girls, or the boundless passion which ruled every other.
All through dinner he watched Livia carefully, trying to guess at what kind of girl she was. She said very little, but smiled often. Her smile was intoxicating, but Severus knew her laughter was better. He wondered what it would take to get her to laugh, just for him. It was a foolish thought, she probably would never waste more than a few words on him in her entire life.
Half-way through dessert Severus caught her checking her teeth in the shiny silver reflection of her knife, she probably thought no one was watching. Maybe she didn't care.
When they all rose from the long table, the candles beginning to flicker out, Severus found her coming his way. Maybe she would pass close enough that he could lean in and catch the smell of her perfume. He wondered if she wore perfume at all.
Then his heart stopped, because she wasn't just passing his way. She was coming to talk to him.
"Do I have something in my teeth?" She asked, titling her head in confusion.
"I...no." Severus said quickly, feeling like a blubbering fool.
Livia paused for a moment, as if she was considering something.
"I just thought that I might, because you were staring at me all night."
Severus felt his throat close up. Evidently, he was not as invisible as he thought.
"I'm sorry." He mumbled in apology, cursing himself because he knew that he was blushing.
To his surprise she laughed, and Severus felt his heart soar. Somehow he had made her laugh.
"I have better go." Livia whispered, leaning in close like she was about to share a secret. "My keeper calls."
Severus jerked his head, he saw Lucius standing in the open doorway, gesturing for Livia to follow. She brushed past him, so close that he knew it could not have been an accident. Lucius stared at him for a moment, but it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. Hopefully he was not angry, no doubt he would hex Severus into the next lifetime if he thought he was flirting with his sister.
Of course they had not been flirting, not really. Severus had barely said two words. But she had laughed, just for him.
As his adolescent emotions tangled in the pit of his stomach Severus went back to his room, and then crawled into bed. He wasn't tired, but forced himself to sleep. It wasn't healthy to think of Livia, to obsess over something he knew he couldn't have. If she ever spoke to him again he would be lucky.
When sleep came at last he dreamt of a room with a thousand mirrors. In each he saw not his own reflection, but a vision of his mother. In daylight he could barely remember what she looked like, a single crinkled photograph serving as his only reminder. Yet somehow, in his dreams, she appeared to him with sparkling clarity. Livia was there as well, sitting in the corner watching. She waited as he circled the room slowly, engrossed in his mother's image. Then she rose, and with one swift flick of her wand smashed all of the mirrors. Livia began to cry, and Severus moved to comfort her. But then, from the shattered glass his mother rose, her body red with deep bloody gashes. Her lips moved, but no sound came free. She was trying to tell him something.
Severus awoke to the sound of his own muffled screaming, and the feel of a cold clammy hand pressed tightly against his mouth.