The first time Severus noticed, he told himself it was exhaustion.

The second time, he knew better.

Order meetings were never cheerful affairs, but once, she had occupied the chair beside his. Once, she had sought him out after missions, dropping reports onto the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place while everyone else slept. Once, she had looked for him the moment she entered a room.

Not anymore.

Now she sat across from him.

Across from everyone.

Across from him.

The distinction mattered.

Severus stood near the window during a late meeting, listening as Alastor Moody dissected another disaster narrowly avoided. His attention should have been on strategy.

Instead, his gaze drifted.

To her.

And to the wizard seated beside her.

Black.

Young.

Capable.

The sort of man who laughed easily.

The sort of man who was present.

The sort of man who was not disappearing for weeks at a time into the nest of a Dark Lord.

She smiled at something Black muttered.

A small smile.

Yet Severus felt it like a knife slipping neatly between ribs.

Ridiculous.

Pathetic.

Unacceptable.

The meeting ended.

People rose.

Conversations bloomed.

She remained where she was, speaking quietly with Black.

Not looking for Severus.

Not waiting for him.

Not even glancing in his direction.

Of course she wasn't.

Why should she?

The realization settled heavily.

While he had been surviving among Death Eaters, enduring the Dark Lord's scrutiny, protecting secrets that could cost him his life, she had been carrying out missions alone.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Every promise of "later" had become another absence.

Every absence had become distance.

Distance had become habit.

And habits became fate.

Black touched her shoulder as he passed.

Casual.

Meaningless.

Severus hated it instantly.

The emotion surprised him with its intensity.

He had no right.

No claim.

No expectation.

Yet there it was.

Dark and bitter.

Jealousy.

Not because Black was extraordinary.

Not because she preferred dark-haired men.

Not because Severus believed she loved him.

But because Black had been there.

Present.

A witness to the days Severus had missed.

The missions.

The fears.

The victories.

The loneliness.

Things Severus had once shared.

Things he had surrendered to the war.

Across the room, she laughed softly.

He could not remember the last time he had been the cause of that sound.

For a fleeting second, she glanced up.

Their eyes met.

Neither smiled.

Neither moved.

Then someone called her name.

She turned away first.

And Severus discovered that watching her walk away hurt far more than any curse the Dark Lord had ever cast.