Colors
By Misha
Disclaimer- Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling and is not mine, however much I might wish differently. However, I am not making any money off of this, so please do not sue me!
Author's Notes- This is a short piece of Snape angst. It's rather depressing. I couldn't resist. There is an undertone of Snape/Lily, which won't come as surprise to anyone who read some of my work before. Well, that's all, enjoy!
Pairing- Snape/Lily.
Rating- PG-13
Summery- His life story could be pained in three colours--green, red, and black.
Spoilers- All four books.
His life story could be painted in three colors.
Green was his destiny. Red was his undoing. Black was his mind set.
Green for Slytherin. The color of power and ambition. The color of self-destruction. He could not escape it.
Green was also for her eyes. The color of hopes and dreams. The color of what might have been. In time, it became the color of loss. He saw that loss so clearly in another pair of green eyes that represented all that was gone, all that might have been.
Green had made him who he was, but given him little happiness.
But red was the color he truly despised.
Red for Gryffindor. The color of bravery and righteousness. The color of all that he would never be.
Red was also the color of her. The color of passion. The color of love. He could still see swirls of red spread out over his pillow and he ached at the memory. He knew that he would never see that red again and it tore at his heart.
Black was always with him. It was all around him. It was what he had become after her death. His heart had blackened.
He knew that he would never love again. No he had lost the ability to feel that emotion when he lost her.
He would not speak of her. The last time he spoke her name was the day he learnt of her death. Not once after that did it pass his lips.
But, as hard as he tried, he could not block out the memories or worse, the reminders.
He hated the Weasleys not simply for their Gryffindor-superiority, but for their hair. It was not the same shade as hers, hers had been darker, but it was enough to evoke images that he could live without.
He had hated Hermione Granger on sight, because she too evoked images of the woman he had lost. He looked at her and remember another eager muggle-born, though she had not been quite as bad as Granger, she did a life outside of the books she loved so much. But she had been the best at every subject, except Potions where he topped her, just like Granger.
He hated the reminder, so he took it out on her. He punished Hermione Granger for her similarities for a woman she had never met.
But as much as he hated the Weasleys and the Granger girl, he hated Harry Potter a hundred times more. He hated him long before he ever met him, but that hate intensified the first time he set eyes on him and saw her eyes staring back at him.
He hated the fact that whenever he looked at the boy, he saw those beautiful eyes. He hated the fact that she lived on in the eyes of another man's son.
He looked at them, the Gryffindor Trio and he hated them. Not for who they were, but for what the represented.
Red hair that was only a mockery of hers; a know-it-all attitude that evoked memories he'd rather ignore; and green eyes that never failed to remind him that she was gone.
He thought in colors once more.
She had been red and green. Lively, passionate, intelligent, compassionate.
He was black. Lost, forsaken, empty.
He had once had color in his life, just like he had once had love. Now, all he had was black and all he could feel was hatred.
The End
