opposite of amnesia

“Oi, Potter, you get your arse over here and stop ignoring me right now.”

His lips curved every so slightly as he continued to his pretend-reading. This had been going on the past ten minutes and James loved every moment of it. “Can’t you see I’m doing something, Padfoot ?”

“Shh…you don’t see me.”

“Really ? Then who do I see ?”

“Does anyone know what the bloody hell happened with Emma today?”

“Not a clue, mate. Bad day on the pitch, maybe ?” 

Severus’ lips were shaking ; the sickly hue of his face became several shades pastier as he stared at James. He could feel the eyes of those around them burning holes into his back, and but he realized in that moment that making the first move spared him from the humiliation of having Potter approach him on his way out of the library, smug and full of giddiness over being swift enough to complete his coursework. A satisfied James Potter was certainly the worst kind to face off against. At least now, he had the edge that came with interrupting the Gryffindor while he was settled down working.  “How revolting,” Severus cringed. “Surely you’d only come up with such a grotesque idea of my friends and I spend our evenings because that’s what you and your lot are keen on. How … revolting,” he sneered. Disgust was dripping thick from his tone of voice. “After all, you lack the creativity … the initiative … to come up with that disturbingly specific scenario on the spot.” He glanced away. Building the walls around his emotions was a nearly complete process, but his blood still went cold whenever he heard James call him ‘Snivellus’. What was once just a childish insult was now triggering. It left him feeling exposed, vulnerable … … completely naked.  There was something unsettling about being left alone with James. This was, after all, a man who recently saved his life - while Severus was skeptical over his motives behind the rescue, it was still a debt he had hanging over his head no less, so he had a bit of a disadvantage if things escalated between them. After all, not only was James the man who saved him, but he was also the man who, more recently, destroyed his pride as he raised him up in the air and stripped him nude in front of the entire school. It was something he’d never forget, and the manner in which James was licking his chops like the cat who ate the canary was not soothing.  “You really can be humorous after all ; and here I thought that you bragging about your comedic timing was just another one of the  pathetic methods you so notoriously use to make yourself seem more impressive than you actually are. So the shameless thief and cheats accuses the very person he steals from of needing his assistance ; how … amusing.” Severus shook his head, not moving to retreat back to his table. He didn’t want to carry on, but he wasn’t about to back away. 

“Practice? Ah shit, I forgot…”

For the briefest of moments, Regulus wondered if Sirius had put James up to whatever this was. Was this some sort of way to try and patch things up between the two of them? If it was, Potter was not the right person to do it. 

“Sure, sure.  Only slightly pathetic, I suppose. I’m absolutely positive. Yeah, yeah ‘course I’d tell you, first thing, I’d tell you. But you really don’t have to worry that much, because my completely lack of romantic appeal has shot that in the foot pretty well.”

“Fuck off, man. While you’re busy wanking with your mates, I’m pulling birds, yeah ? Real birds, Potter. You’re thinking too much into this, ain’t you ? I mean, it’s a bloody useless train of thought anyway …

"Hear that, then ? I reckon that’s the sound of denial.”