Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
Summary: Most times, he can't even stand to look at the colors of Slytherin because the vibrant green looks too much like her eyes, but now he's unable to look away for even a second. SnapeLily, oneshot
I saw Deathly Hallows Part 2 today, and boy was it amazing. Epic. Amazing. Beautiful. I loved it. I've read the books, watched the movies, been wanting to write for this fandom for the longest time, and now that my chapter fic for another fandom is done, I can do just that. Post-Potter Depression sucks so hard lol. Anyway, I love these two - definitely my OTP for this fandom, when I rarely have such, and I just had to write for them. It's just a short piece. Hope y'all enjoy my first attempt in this fandom!
He knows its silly. Foolish, even.
Severus Snape shouldn't even dwell on things like this.
But he can't help it.
She's on his mind, always. Naturally, he'd start to make comparisons, connections that he'd randomly made between her and any object that seemed to remind him of her. One unfortunate similarity just happened to smack him in the face when he had least expected it.
He knows her like the back of his hand, has memorized every feature on her bright face, knows all the facets of her personality as if they were his own (if he could be so lucky).
He wasn't sure why it caught him up short, wasn't sure why he had just seemed to click together the pieces at that moment, but he did.
He stares intently in front of him, as if willing the thought from his mind.
However, as he studies the object that once seemed so mundane, so typical of Hogwarts, he finds himself unable to tear his eyes away, and he stares intently as if expecting something.
Slytherin's large hourglass, shining with emeralds, stares back.
A simple thing, really. An icon of sorts, and it now renders him thoughtless but for one word. One name.
His long, pale fingers twist uncomfortably in his robes; he grits his teeth as the name rings through his head like a chorus of song.
Severus is entranced despite himself, staring eagerly at the many gemstones as if they would suddenly rearrange themselves and take her shape.
A thought occurs to him, fleeting and faint, chiming at him that he's like a moth to a flame. He shakes that ridiculous image out of his head, literally giving his head a shake as he does this.
Even as he does that, he steps closer still to the hourglass, transfixed.
He can see his reflection in the shiny, clear glass as if it were a mirror. His hair is the same as it has been since childhood, lank and greasy. His sallow skin is thrown into sharp clarity with the lighting of the place. His eyes, however, look different.
Usually as flat and black as night, his eyes now appear...intrigued, almost as if he's a child again. His eyes look interested, elated as they had found this strange commonality in plain sight when it had avoided his brain for too long.
He tries to wipe that look away - that ugly, senseless, childish hope that is in his eyes.
Ludicrous. Insane. Petty.
But he can't help it - Severus can't help a lot of things wehn it comes to Lily Evans (Potter, his mind barks at him, a sickening but truthful correction). Apparently, this includes inanimate objects that rap him across the cheek with nostalgia.
But...those shiny gems look just like her eyes. Most times, he can't even stand to look at the colors of Slytherin because the vibrant green looks too much like her eyes, but now he's unable to look away for even a second.
Severus can't help himself. He moves just slightly and presses his hand to the glass, feeling the cool surface beneath his fingertips. He brushes his thumb back and forth, slowly, meaningfully, and a few of the sparkling emeralds move upward, floating to the top half of the hourglass. He doesn't think about what that means for his House; he can't think of anything except the jewels hovering upward, seeming to wink at him like the very eyes he had compared them to.
Severus lets his eyes close, feeling exhausted all of a sudden, and blows out a heavy breath, as if he is a man with the whole world on his shoulders. In some very real aspects, he is.
He imagines what she'd say if she were here right now. He's heard her say the words once, back when they were friends, so it isn't hard to hear her voice, breathing happily in his ear, "I'm so proud of you, Sev."
Even that causes his chest to feel a bit tighter, and he inhales shakily through his nose as he voices the feeling that has plagued him for the majority of his life.
"I miss you, Lil."
The only response he gets is from the emeralds, twinkling up at him as if the feeling was mutual.