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Evan leaned against the dusty shelves, watching as Severus furiously scribbled notes on the back of a scrap of parchment. The uneven ends of greasy hair brushed the table top as Severus' eyes moved between the pages of the tome and the notes.
Evan, who had an obscene fascination with Severus' hair, was convinced that it was not a matter of hygiene, but some strange potion the potion-mad boy used that rendered his hair unappealing. Shifting a bit as he day-dreamed about washing said hair, his robe sleeve dislodged a small cloud of dust and the subsequent sneeze caught Severus' attention.
"Go away," Severus grumbled, not even looking up to identify the intruder.
That single-minded intensity, Evan guessed, had to be what fueled this lust. Well, intensity and an intriguing depth of knowledge of the Dark Arts.
Evan brushed the dust from his sleeve, sidled up to the table and dropped lightly into the seat across from his query. He never tired of this game, wondering how long until Severus lost his temper. He noted that the Severus' fingers tightened around the quill and that every fifth word was savagely crossed out.
"You never gave me a proper answer," Evan purred, and earned a quick glare from his house mate.
An Easter break invitation to the Rosier Château in Montreux was a coveted one, and Evan had indulged in some very pleasurable bribery all this term, never letting on that the only classmate he intended to host was this surly, but strangely captivating misanthrope.
Severus put down the quill, mindful of placing it on his ratty blotter, then closed his eyes and sighed.
"I'll tell you why you never got a proper answer Rosier," Severus ground out, "because your veiled attempts to play me for a fool will not succeed."
Evan leaned forward and reached his hand out to pick up the discarded quill. Severus, in a typical display of well-honed reflexes, retrieved the quill before Evan's hand was even half-way to the instrument.
Severus began packing his notes into a scuffed leather bag, trying very hard not to succumb to his anger. Madam Pince grudgingly allowed him access to the Restricted Section, even though he had Slughorn's permission, and he could not bear to lose the privileged so close to NEWTs.
Severus grabbed the reference book and stalked over to the librarian's desk, hoping that Rosier would not follow. Madam Pince levitated the book from his hands and began a thorough check to see if it had incurred any damage. Already irritated, Severus rushed out to the corridor and out to the bailey, taking deep breaths of the frigid air.
Severus cast a detection spell, and blast it all, Rosier had followed him. Ducking behind the brazier column, he stilled his breathing and waited for his pursuer. As the footfalls neared his hiding place, he waited for the right moment, then stuck out his boot. A satisfying thud, followed by an expletive, brought a cold smile to his face.
"You must not have understood me, so I'll repeat, go AWAY!" Severus shouted.
Evan rolled to his feet, favoring his wrist.
"I heard you all right, but I don't understand," Evan said with exasperation. "What will it take for you to agree?"
Severus raised his wand and held it under Evan's chin. Evan blinked, but made no move, well aware that Severus had the upper hand at the moment.
"Why," Severus asked, " when you have a mass of sycophants drooling at your feet, do you pretend to favor me?"
Evan, a bit unnerved by the unforeseen ambush, and his throbbing wrist, blurted out, "That's why!"
Severus narrowed his eyes and twisted his wand point deeper into Evan's throat.
"I don't drool at your feet, that's the reason?" Severus scoffed. "I thought, perhaps, it might be my uncommon good looks."
At that pronouncement, Evan blushed and Severus withdrew his wand. Oh Merlin's sweaty bits, Severus thought, Evan was more of a pervert than previously thought.
Still, it was an intriguing notion, being pursued by the Lothario of Slytherin. Severus had not expected this development. He had been courted by several of the prominent Pureblood families, but for the honor of being his sponsor to Lord Voldemort's service, not as a sexual conquest.
Evan watched as Severus considered the revelation. Though he was brilliant in his studies, and quick to understand the political machinations of their House, Severus was by no means worldly. Evan was convinced that allowing Severus the upper hand would make acquiescence more palatable to the boy.
"Tell me Rosier," Severus drawled, "what would your parents say if you brought me along for the holiday?"
"They would welcome any Slytherin into our home, especially one whom had our Lord's interest," replied Evan.
Severus scowled, "Of course, once again, I am a Half-blood oddity and curiosity."
Evan nodded, "I will not hide that my father would dearly love to sponsor your entrée into the fold, but I ..."
Severus interrupted, saying, "And you seek to persuade me with the luxury of your vacation home and carnal pleasures?"
"And a rare Alpine Bitterroot in the garden," Evan added.
Severus was known to trade favors for rare potions ingredients, it was true, but mostly for tutoring and the like. That Rosier was offering the Bitterroot, and the posh holiday, was alarming. There was always a bitter price to pay, Severus knew, but the offer was a bit better than most, and he would do well to cultivate more than one patron if he was to get anywhere after Hogwarts.
"All right, I'll go with you," Severus relented, "If, I get a letter of introduction to Herr Bauhin at the Zurich Institute."
Evan, beaming at Severus quite annoyingly, agreed, saying "We'll leave by portkey on the 21st, but I trust you won't let anyone know."
Severus bent over to retrieve his bag, then rolled his eyes. "Rosier, have we not shared accommodations for some seven years?
Evan leered, "Not intimately."
Severus groaned and elbowed Evan as he passed by, muttering, "This better be worth it."
As he strode down the corridor, shifting his book-laden bag higher up his shoulder, he thought he heard Evan say, "Oh it will, it will."