[ The implication being that if he decides Lily's taking long enough for there to be a problem, he'll just go upstairs himself.
Severus makes his way across the shop, gaze idling over the shelves; he wonders if there is a familiar order, something like he does. But the finer details escape him for the moment - his mind too preoccupied keeping all else in order, and keeping clear of more self-indulgent, darker thoughts. (Why does Lily employ her doppelganger's child? Is she so attached to Potter, still? Severus hates the thought of that sentimentality, that potential for yearning. He doesn't wish to see himself in some other, more intimate role-- he knows what he is, what he did-- but Merlin, why Potter.)
He is an inky shadow, offensive angles of his face no better-looking at this young age than in his thirties, drawing closer to the counter and Harry behind it. His clothes are finer in this world than the last, something Severus rolled his eyes at when he opened the wardrobe, but such is this new life. An elevated pure-blood, Minister Riddle's agent. ]
How old are you? [ he asks, hand alighting on the edge of the counter like a spider creeping into the light. ] Not too young to trip an age line and send you to me, I hope. I would hate for Miss Evans to lose an employee.
[ As ever, it is difficult to pinpoint what emotion Professor Snape is presenting. Backhanded friendliness? Subtle threat? Something deliberately enticing and thus deliberately revolting because of it?
There is always a sort of menace. As present as the oil in his hair, or the stains on his nails. ]
no subject
[ The implication being that if he decides Lily's taking long enough for there to be a problem, he'll just go upstairs himself.
Severus makes his way across the shop, gaze idling over the shelves; he wonders if there is a familiar order, something like he does. But the finer details escape him for the moment - his mind too preoccupied keeping all else in order, and keeping clear of more self-indulgent, darker thoughts. (Why does Lily employ her doppelganger's child? Is she so attached to Potter, still? Severus hates the thought of that sentimentality, that potential for yearning. He doesn't wish to see himself in some other, more intimate role-- he knows what he is, what he did-- but Merlin, why Potter.)
He is an inky shadow, offensive angles of his face no better-looking at this young age than in his thirties, drawing closer to the counter and Harry behind it. His clothes are finer in this world than the last, something Severus rolled his eyes at when he opened the wardrobe, but such is this new life. An elevated pure-blood, Minister Riddle's agent. ]
How old are you? [ he asks, hand alighting on the edge of the counter like a spider creeping into the light. ] Not too young to trip an age line and send you to me, I hope. I would hate for Miss Evans to lose an employee.
[ As ever, it is difficult to pinpoint what emotion Professor Snape is presenting. Backhanded friendliness? Subtle threat? Something deliberately enticing and thus deliberately revolting because of it?
There is always a sort of menace. As present as the oil in his hair, or the stains on his nails. ]