hogwartshoney (hogwartshoney) wrote in lupin_snape, @ 2009-01-08 12:12:00 |
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No matter how many times Severus visited the memory in Albus' Pensieve, the results were always the same: Lily, her long hair blowing in the breeze, swinging higher and higher on the old, rickety swing-set in the park near their homes, and smiling at him with the light of a thousand suns.
Her laugh had mesmerized him and held him captive, as true today as it had been then, and as it had every time he'd heard it directed at him, or as a result of something he'd done.
Later, when she'd turned that laugh towards Potter, well, Severus never thought he'd be affected by laughter ever again.
Until the warm tones of a soft chuckle surprised him one night as he prepared to leave the Hogwarts library. A delightful shiver ran up his spine, and he paused, like a bird about to take flight, cocking his head and waiting to hear it again.
The sound of pages turning, of a body shifting position and again… yes, there! The low chuckle combined now with something like a murmur of approval, and Severus was captivated.
Instantly.
He couldn't tell then, nor would he ever be able to say for certain, what exactly had fascinated him about the sound, but it made him want to be around to hear it, not just that night, but every night. It was musical, but not; slightly gruff, but yet soothing; and filled with a sort of life that Severus thought he'd lost, that he'd never hear again.
A thousand emotions scattered over him as he rose in one swift movement, nervously wiping his brow as excitement ignited inside him. Perhaps the most thrilling thing about the laugh was that he had no idea to whom it belonged, and that was both exciting and terrifying. How could he have such a strong reaction to someone he didn't know?
Only, of <i>course</i> he'd know the person – it was Hogwarts, after all. He knew who everybody was, even though most people went out of their way to avoid him.
Except Lily, but this certainly wasn't her.
No, this person was male, and at the time, Severus didn't even pause to examine that fact too closely.
He tidied the books and parchment on his table and assembled everything into a neat pile before shrinking it all. Then he dropped the tiny pile into his pocket and wiped his clammy hands on his robes. <i>Enough wasting time,</i> he admonished himself silently and, taking a deep breath, he strode down to the end of the bookcase where he would finally see the source of the laughter.
The closer he came to the end of the row, the louder the sounds became, and he was surprised that Madam Pince hadn't snarled a "Quiet, please!" in their general direction. When he turned the corner, though, he saw why. Pince did so pander to her prefects.
<i>Lupin</i>.
Who was making annoyingly enticing sounds of interest and amusement while stroking his upper lip with his finger, and reading <i>Moste Potente Potions</i> as though it were some sort of treat.
Suspicion arose in Severus as a matter of course, but so too did interest.
And eagerness.
And hope.