Severus and the Skye

3

This morning I found myself in a high mood. Skye and I spent most of the night brewing and each conversation was one worth having. She was building me from scratch and I was adding the last three years to what I already have. 

I walked her back to her room, just down the hall from my classroom and she smiled with all the politeness of someone following the laws of manners and niceties. 

We agree that she will join me for all the classes today and get to introduce herself properly and learn each of the students.

Her eyes are bright as I enter the Great Hall, she took the seat at the end, where only one person could sit next to her and Quirrell has laid claim. Her shoulders rise and fall as she shrugs. I want to snatch him from the chair and toss him onto one of the house tables as he drags her through an onslaught of stuttering, doing his best to keep her attention. 

She doesn’t break eye contact as I take my seat next to Quirrell, now he notices. He turns and bids me a good morning, his pale face painted with disdain. 

Hagrid appears through the door behind the table and taps Skye gently on the shoulder, his hand would swallow her shoulder if he laid it out flat, “I’ve got something interesting to show ye when you get the time!” he whispers before disappearing back out the same door.

Skye immediately breaks away from Quirrell, leaving him looking around the room, lost. I clear my throat, “Classes start in less than a half hour,” I remind her.

She nods, “Would you like to come with me? I’m sure it wouldn’t be as exciting for you but then I could follow you to class,” she pauses, and when she speaks it’s a whisper, “Hagrid found several Glow Bugs and I’ve never seen one before,” the excitement in her eyes is palpable. 

My first instinct is to jump to my feet and follow her but I fight the urge, I glance at Quirrell whose face is contorted with envy. I can practically feel it radiating from him. He didn’t know Skye before, so our history is unknown to him unless of course, someone told him. The thought alone infuriates me.

“I won’t be late,” she promises, as she notices the fall in my face.

“I would hope not,” I say with little emotion. 

She raises an eyebrow but then her face is beaming and she disappears through the very door Hagrid did only minutes ago. Quirrell stirs in his seat, “She’s a v-very sweet g-girl S-Severus. I quite l-like her.”

“What do you know about her?” I ask, hoping he isn’t dense enough to tell me he knew about us. I would hate to have to kill him because he knew and chose to step on my toes. Or perhaps I would.

“N-not m-m-much, just w-what she s-said in her s-speech,” he says, his fingers shaking a bit around his fork.

“Are you thinking of pursuing her?” I wouldn’t think of Quirrell as having the confidence to do so but sometimes it’s the ones you don’t suspect. The meek ones.

“Perhaps,” he says and he doesn’t stutter. Interesting. 

I leave him without another word. My first class of the day is fifth-years and I already expect it to be long and excruciating because of their interest in Skye. Perhaps we won’t attempt brewing today and spend the time on notes and introductions.

There are still students scattered throughout the Great Hall but most of them have disappeared. Skye hasn’t reemerged from her excursion but I have full confidence she won’t be late.

I pluck ten points from Hufflepuff and Gryffindor as I pass two students with clenched fists and harsh words. I turn them in opposite directions and send them on, leaving whatever their petty squabble was about unconcluded.