Reprieve | Tyson

The dry smell of dusty, old books perfumed the air. Apart from the crisp turn of the page, an occasional cough or low whisper were the only audible sounds. The undisturbed silence was welcome to Severus Snape, as were the many books with which to distract himself from his brooding thoughts. The diversion of reading had been his fallback reason for visiting the library this evening, however. He had come here, heart aching with hope, only to be disappointed once more. Lily Evans was absent, despite his wistful desire to see her. They had met here often, but that was before... before he had lost her. She had not spoken to him since last spring. She avoided him in their classes and made sure never to give him an opportunity to catch her alone. He had haunted their old meeting spots, like here, in the library, but she continued to evade him. He was certain that if he could just explain to her what had happened, tell her how miserable he was without her, that he could win her back. So far, he had not been given the chance. It was disheartening to have his hopes dashed again tonight. He truly was lost without her. Until he could get her back, he would have to settle with pushing the despair and disillusionment to the back of his mind. To escape, he buried himself in the dusty tomes.

The book that currently held his attention was from the Restricted Section, and had been retrieved with Slughorn's permission. The Potions Master was always someone Severus could rely upon to aid his circumvention of superfluous rules. Why a school should prevent students free access to learning, was something he had never understood. This book, for example, was dangerous only in the hands of the unwary. Any clever wizard could use its knowledge without fear. And Severus privately believed that most students would not have the intelligence to grasp the greater application of its humble research. It was an examination of spell linguistics — a topic that interested Severus greatly. He had already invented several spells of his own, and by studying this book further, he was sure he could create even more powerful ones in the future. He was taking copious notes. Parchment sprawled over the table where he sat. He had already filled multiple scrolls with his cramped and feverish handwriting. Every word he wrote — every brilliant thought that slid like oil from his brain down through his quill — brought him further from his pain. Enterprise filled the emptiness, until a shadow cast itself across his work.

“You're in my light,” he rumbled in the baritone his voice had become.