Begin Again (Severus Snape/OC Love Story)

Chapter Eleven: The Sixth-Floor Corridor

        I arrived at Defense Against the Dark Arts the following morning feeling a cacophony of emotions. Though part of me felt an uncalled-for glint of excitement at the idea of seeing Snape again, I wasn't entirely sure how he would behave towards me after Saturday. Likely no differently than usual, I assumed: distant and cold.

There was also the frustrating prospect of dealing with Ernie. I'd mulled it over throughout the morning and, no longer feeling in the mood to dwell on it, decided I should just move on. Like Ginny had said, he probably had no clue why I was upset in the first place, and he obviously wasn't intending to offend me on purpose. Not to mention I didn't feel like trying to explain why I'd gotten so defensive at his comments about Snape, that is if I even could explain it.

I had woken extra early, downed a fast but hefty breakfast (my stomach had been grumbling ravenously, a consequence of eating nothing the day before), and dashed off to the third-floor classroom. As I'd hoped, all the desks were still empty when I entered. Taking my usual seat, I opened my book and busied myself with the chapter on Inferi.

Moments later, the first of my classmates began to trickle in, and along with them a gradually increasing hum of voices.

Chairs scraped against the floor aside of me as Harry, Ron, and Hermione took their seats; Harry and Ron were avidly discussing the upcoming Quidditch match, while Hermione chastised them for not having properly sorted priorities.

Feet scuffled loudly down the aisle and into the row opposite ours. I heard Goyle's beastly grunt as he dropped into a seat.

The chair to my right moved out, and a body filled it, not speaking for several seconds.

"Good morning, Rowan," said the voice next to me sheepishly.

"Good morning," I responded, turning the page of my textbook.

Ernie cleared his throat unsubtly. I paused for a moment before closing the book and setting it on the desk, then turned to look at him.

"Rowan? Look, I want to apologize for... whatever it is that I did wrong," he said, staring downward at his lap.

"Don't worry about it. It's fine," I said simply.

Ernie hesitated, one brow arched uncertainly. "'It's fine'? But you were so angry... I don't understand," he said.

"You didn't know what you were saying, and I know you weren't being intentionally rude. Actually, I'm pretty sure you still don't know what you said that insulted me."

"Right... I mean, no, of course I didn't mean to insult you." He shuffled his feet on the floor uncomfortably.

"Exactly. So just forget about it."

"Erm... if you say so... but are you sure that – " Ernie's rambling was cut off by the classroom door swinging open and slamming shut loudly behind us. He lowered his voice, continuing in a whisper, but I had already tuned him out, my focus now seized by my dark-haired professor.

Snape strode into the room in his familiar dictatorial-like fashion. My heartbeat fluttered in anticipation as he spun around to face the class, but unlike the last month and a half, and to my complete shock and awe, his gaze immediately fell on me. My brow rose, curious, because where there typically was indifference or malice, there was now a trace of humanity.

We stared each other down, and in his face I could read that his feelings mirrored my own. He was unsure of me; unsure of how I'd react to him after Saturday. It was only a mere second before he began the lesson, but the space of that moment had stretched out in front of me. I was as transfixed on him as usual as he continued the discussion on Inferi, which had been the topic of the previous two classes. Was it possible that his skin was slightly less pale today? Could his hair be a bit neater? Were his eyes brighter and clearer? Did he look more... alive?