Severus
It feels like a thousand and more pointed blades are being stabbed into his chest – in, out, in, out, in, out, in – stuck. The imaginary daggers twist and turn and dig even deeper – deeper, deeper – and unfamiliar, jagged sharp nails claw at his heart, ripping it, shredding it and knotting the flesh until he is sure he will collapse.
The boy with messy black hair practically unclothes her with his eyes, but Severus knows she is better than to give in like so many others have. She narrows her beautiful, almond green eyes and wittily retorts something to Potter.
And Severus Snape feels like he could scream – shriek – shout – yell cry - – scream, scream, scream.
He is glad, of course, that James Potter has not yet made Lily Evans fall into the trap he sets up to seduce the females of Hogwarts – but knowing she is even talking to him makes him want to curse Potter so he no longer exists.
The bright green eyes that haunt Severus' sleep roll, a sneer on the lips that he wishes he could kiss as James is momentarily distracted by a seventh-year girl walking past and eyes her up, down, up, down, before remembering the red-head in front of him. He turns back to her, smirking. Lily glares at him, and Snape wants to slap him for insulting her.
"It's bad enough for James that Lily won't let him go out with her, Snivellus. Don't make it worse by trying to get her for yourself."
Severus turns around slowly, and he is half-thankful for Sirius Black deciding to interrupt the unmeant torture being inflicted upon him.
It is probably - no, definitely - the first and last time he feels such a thing - gratitude - to the Pureblooded boy nicknamed Padfoot.
