7. A Moment of Stillness

As frequently happened on Saturdays, Severus once again found himself alone. Sitting by the lake, his potions book was lying open at his feet, parchment scattered around him, held down by rocks he had collected before sitting down on the dying grass. The sky was cloudy and grey, with the constant threat of snow in the air; his scarf was wrapped tightly around his neck as he shivered slightly in the wind.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to find a quiet place to study inside the castle. There were dozens of students in the library, all being far too loud for his taste (or Madam Pince's, for that matter); the Slytherin common room was an absurd place to attempt getting any work done, what with students constantly trying to show off to each other. Severus was forced to leave the castle entirely and make his way down towards the lake. Normally he wouldn't mind studying outside, completely devoid of contact with any other Hogwarts student, but today the temperature was pushing on uncomfortable.

Ink dripped from his quill onto the grass next to him as he read over a particular potion from his textbook. He had already mixed the potion twice, once in class following the book's instructions, and once on his own, testing different methods of slicing and crushing different ingredients. After all of his adjustments had met with success, he realized he had only written down the alternative instructions on the pages of the textbook; now he was carefully transcribing them down for his own personal notes. Scribbled in the margins were different spells he was trying to create; a particularly nasty one, sectumsempra, was proving to work quite well on the various pillows he was testing it on. He scrawled "for enemies" next to the spell and smirked; what he would give to finally be able to use it on Potter…or Black.

He flipped the thick pages back to the front of the book, searching for any notes he might have missed. He paused on the page titled "Draught of Living Death" and scrawled a note to himself on a spare bit of parchment; he would need to go over this particular potion with Isadora next Friday. What she had managed to brew in class would have certainly killed whoever drank her potion.

Severus leaned back against the rough trunk of the tree and sighed, staring listlessly out across the lake. Tutoring last night had been rather odd in comparison to all of their previous sessions. Usually, Isadora couldn't keep her mouth shut for more than a few moments, constantly rattling on about the various girls in their house; he rarely listened, but he still noticed last night when she barely said a word. Lately she had even taken to bringing up Regulus now and again, even though she knew Severus couldn't be bothered to gossip about other boys. What had made him realize something was wrong was when he sharply criticized her for her poorly chopped ginger roots. Instead of her usual snarky remarks about his horrific teaching skills, she stared at him momentarily, and went back to chopping the remaining roots, going slower and making sure that each piece was identical to the next. It had taken all of his willpower not to shake her back to reality.

"Is that you, Severus?" her familiar voice called from up the hill.

Without looking back, he flailed his arm around in response. He looked up as she came around the tree.

"Hi," she said quietly, avoiding his glance.

Severus wedged his quill into his textbook and closed the cover; he had the distinct feeling he wasn't going to accomplish much more with her here. "Hello," he answered, staring up at her. He watched as she fidgeted with the sleeve of her robes, her fingers covered by black knit gloves. "Are you going to sit, or do you plan on standing there awkwardly all day?"

She sat down, closer to him than he would have liked, trying to avoid the ink that had dripped all over the grass around him. Their arms were pressed against one another; Severus couldn't complain about the warmth being close to her added. She stared out across the lake, determined to avoid his stare. He briefly noticed that her hair wasn't the disheveled mess it usually was on Saturday mornings, but tucked neatly into her usual bun at the back of her head.

He sighed as she sat there, not saying a word. "How are you?" he forced, crossing his arms.

"We're friends, right?" she asked suddenly, staring down at the tuft of grass in front of her.

"What?"

"We hang out, we seem to enjoy each other's company…we're friends?" she explained, nervously pushing an invisible strand of hair behind her ear.

Severus stared at her, slowly raising an eyebrow. He had never really thought about it before; he supposed he enjoyed her company more than most other Slytherin students, and he couldn't really think of any other girls that he spent more time with (recently, anyway). "When you put it that way, I guess, yes, we're friends," he answered, confused.

Isadora did something Severus had never seen her do before: she willingly pulled her hair out of its bun and let it fall gracefully over her shoulders, pin-straight and as black as her robes. She ran a pale hand through it once or twice before absentmindedly twisting one around her finger. "So," she paused, finally looking at him, "when I ask you this ridiculously personal question you aren't going to drown me in the lake?" Her cheeks were tinged pink.

He exhaled sharply; he was momentarily shocked by the phenomenon of her hair being allowed to roam free for once, but now he was just annoyed. "What do you want?" he hissed.

She couldn't seem to hold his gaze for more than a few moments before her eyes darted down to examine the cover of his potions book. Her finger was still tightly tangled in her hair.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Isadora, out with it already!" he shouted.

Her face flushed red as she asked, "Are you in love with Lily Evans?"

It was Severus' turn to be speechless. He stared at her, his onyx eyes boring into her violets, his brow furrowing with anger. The words hit him like a solid iron cauldron dropping on his mid-section, knocking the breath out of him. How could she possibly know? "What?" he managed to ask through clenched teeth.

"I said –"

"I know what you said, Starbuck," he whispered lividly. "Where did you hear this rumor?"

She knew he was angry; her hands clasped each other tightly as she tried to keep his gaze. "I was in the library Thursday night, and I overheard Potter and Black talking…and Potter mentioned it. Apparently Lily told him in the strictest of confidence about your…affection for her. Someone in the Gryffindor common room had asked Black about it," she explained, her hands shaking, though from fear or the cold Severus couldn't tell. "He went to Potter about it and Potter told him. Then Lily showed up and confirmed it, but told them neither was allowed to ever speak about it. Or use it against you." She looked at him sympathetically, trying to smile, but fearful of his wrath.

Severus was clutching the hem of his robes, seething with anger. He had never expressly told Lily his true feelings for her, knowing she would only laugh at him and remind him (once again) that they were friends. He must have been too obvious with her; trying to keep her from Potter and the other Marauders must have tipped her off. Surely threatening to sleep outside the Gryffindor common room unless she came out to hear his apology didn't help, either. He buried his face in his ice-cold hands; a sound escaped his throat, something between a growl and a sob. How could she tell Potter, of all people! Lily knew better than anyone how much Severus loathed him; what could have possessed her to divulge that information to him?

He felt Isadora shift uncomfortably next to him, inching closer. "Look, I'm sure you're angry, since I can practically see it leaking from your ears," she said quietly, "but I came to you with this. Nobody else knows."

Surprised, Severus pulled his hands away from his face and stared at her. "You didn't go running to Holmes and Bradford, dying to tell them everything you had heard?"

Isadora cocked an eyebrow and rolled her eyes. "I'm not that big of a bitch, you know. It's not my secret to tell." Her voice was barely above a whisper, even though there wasn't another soul in sight.

"I…I really appreciate that," he said in a hushed voice. Nobody needed to hear him be sentimental.

She shrugged and placed a hand on his arm as she said, "You didn't tell other people about my family's twisted obsession to marry me off to Regulus by Christmas."

"That's true," he said with a smirk.

He watched Isadora as she continued to fidget, clearly still slightly uncomfortable with the situation. A breeze had kicked up, causing her hair to dance wildly around her face. He silently laughed as she tried to contain it with a wave of her hand.

"For what it's worth," she said quietly as the wind died down, "I'm sorry for what she did to you."

The smile melted off Severus' face; the dragon roared in his chest again. "I'm not going to talk about it, Isadora," he warned, his hands balled into fists once more.

He felt her hand back on his, her skin slightly warmer than his, and he relaxed his fists slightly. "I'm not asking you to," she said quietly.

He looked at Isadora again; there was a hint of a smile crossing her lips, silently telling him she understood. Neither of them spoke, unsure of where the conversation could possibly go from there. Her hand was still resting gently on his; her fingers had slipped through the gap between his thumb and forefinger. It was an odd feeling for Severus: he had never really held a girl's hand before. His gaze returned to her eyes, still watching him sympathetically. Before he realized what he was doing, Severus pushed some of her hair out of her face, his hand resting gently on the soft skin of her cheek. He noticed they were sitting closer than he and Lily had ever been. He seemed incapable of taking his eyes off of her.

Without thinking, he brought his lips to hers; the touch spread warmth from his face, down through to his core as he felt her respond and kiss back. He inhaled sharply and moved closer to her, clutching her free hand in his. A strange sensation started to take him over as he realized he wanted to be closer still.

It was over as quickly as it had begun, and Severus could feel every ounce of blood in his body rush to his face as he fixed his gaze on a particularly interesting pine tree across the lake. Isadora gently slipped her hand from his grasp, bringing her knees up against her chest and wrapping her arms tightly around them. He kept glancing at her, hoping she might say something to break the unbearably awkward silence.

Finally, she spoke: "Um…I…" Not very encouraging words, but it was a start.

"I'm sorry," Severus croaked, trying to find his voice, which had decided to hide somewhere deep in his chest. "That was –"

"Unexpected," she finished.

"Yeah."

Isadora's face was as red as his; it seemed like she couldn't help but smile as she whispered, "No worries."

Severus looked at her, willing his voice to return to that of his sixteen year old self and not the voice of a seven year old. "So…we're friends, right?" he asked in a mocking tone.

"Well, no offense, Sev, but I don't think you'd take a curse for me," she replied, her grin widening.

"No, that's true," he said with a shrug, "but I'd push you out of the way." He smirked at her.

Isadora laughed, finally breaking through the tension hanging in the air. The wind was blowing too hard at this point for Severus to consider staying outside, and he started gathering his parchment and stuffing it into his bag. Isadora handed him his textbook as they began the long walk back up to the castle; he noticed she was keeping a good six inches between the two of them, although their hands kept brushing against one another.