First Glance
Snape, in his usual sweep of robes, rushed into the room. With his trademark icy-cold voice, he began.
"Today we will be working on a depression potion. This potion- MS GRANGER PUT YOUR HAND DOWN! - This potion causes whoever drinks it to become severely depressed. If made incorrectly, the drinker will suffer from hysterics. The ingredients are on the board- Get Started." He was in an especially foul mood today, that morning Dumbledor asked him to help organize the next ball.
Stalking around the room, he came to stand beside the Golden Trios desks. His sharp ears immediately picked up on Hermione's whispered instructions to Neville.
"Ms. Granger, if you insist on opening your big mouth in class, I will have to give you a detention." Hermione blanched at the thought of a detention with Snape, and quickly shut her mouth, which only caused the Slytherins on the other sides of the room to laugh harder. Ron, growing red at Snape's comments, started to stand, but Harry held him back, whispering,
"Let it go Ron! It isn't worth it! This is our last year, you wouldn't want to get expelled now, would you?"
"But he just insulted "Mione!"
"Just cool, alright? The ball is in a month, he can take away our tickets!"
"Errrg!!! Alright, but if he says anything....."
"I know- I know!" Harry was worried; someday Ron's temper might get the best of him.
Snape, although walking away, heard the two of them. Damn Golden Trio!! I can NOT wait for this year to be over! Maybe Albus will let me retire...After all, with voldermort defeated, he has no need for me to stick around. Inspecting the cauldrons, he found that only Hermione had made the potion correctly. No, wait, who's was that back there? He turned and headed towards the mysterious girl. He couldn't remember seeing her before, but she must be a student, she was wearing the Gryfindor robes. Once he reached her desk, he recognized her, although it took him a few moments. She was Jasmine Spyri, a girl who always had her potions done early, and correctly. He was a little surprised to see that she was not sitting by another Gryfindor, but Blaise Zambini.
"Yes, Professor Snape?" Blaise asked hopefully, mentally praying that his potion was right.
"Mr. Zambini, your potion is a wreck. I suggest you dispose of it before it explodes and I have to send you to Madam Pomfrey." He replied to his student, and then turned his attention to the girl next to him. He was absolutely livid when he saw that she was not working on the potion, but writing in some sort of muggle notebook, instead of parchment.
"And why aren't you working on your potion?" He asked, with anger evident in his voice.
"As you can see, Prof. Snape, my potion is done, and there is no need to stir it any longer, that is, unless you would like it to become suicidal potion." So she was smart....the only other person (besides himself) that knew if you stirred it to long, it became a potion that made the drinker suicidal was ms. Granger.
"Well? What are you waiting for? Bottle it and place it on my desk!" His frosty voice had no affect on her, and she went on, writing another line or two in her notebook. Snape, upon looking back, realized that this girl could not be fazed by anything. He remembered one time, in her third year when Malfoy tried to startle her with a curse from behind, she simply turned around and threw a counter-curse. Malfoy was certainly surprised, and he never tried to pick on her again. After finishing, she quickly bottled up the potion, and cleaned her cauldron with a simple spell. While she was putting the flask on his desk, Snape sneaked a look at the notebook on which she was writing. He was a little surprised to see it was a poem, and had to make sure his face didn't show it before he went on to read it.
Hidden
I've been hiding,
Hiding from you
Keeping the pain
And the scars
To myself
You ask me what's wrong
But I assure you that I'm fine
I lied
I lied to you
But you don't know
You assume that I'm being honest
I'm not
You should know
That I'm not ok
You should see it
Look closer
Look closer into these eyes
The windows to my soul
Don't you see the hurt?
Don't you see the worry?
Don't you see
The pain etched on my skin?
Those little cuts
Don't come from nowhere
I guess you just don't care
You can't take the time
To take a good look at me
To see the life draining from me
To see that I'm hiding from you
Hiding,
Right when I need you the most
The girl's small neat handwriting was easy to read, and he quickly finished the short poem. The intensity of the words shocked him, and the obvious thought into each line was surprising. The poems he had seen written by other members of her year were only 3 or 4 lines, about cherubs and valentines. Glancing up, he saw that Jasmine had come back to her desk. She quickly closed her notebook, and with a look of pure disgust, she addressed the Prof. in a whisper, although the anger was obvious
"Prof. Snape, WHAT do YOU think you are doing?! It is incredibly disrespectful to read someone's PRIVATE notebook!!!" Snape, partially stunned at the outward way she spoke, answered
"Ms. Spyri, you will report in my office at 7 tonight for detention!"
"FOR WHAT?!" She said, still in a whisper, yet her voice was like venom. Again, Snape wondered why she was not placed in Slytherin.
"For questioning a Prof. actions. Class dismissed!" The students filed out, and Jasmine, placing her books in her pack, reached out for her notebook, to find that it was still in Snape's hand.
"You will give that back." She told him, in a commanding voice that was plain. It was so fierce, that Snape almost handed it back to her, but caught himself.
"I am confiscating this notebook, to ensure that you will be at detention tonight." He waited for her face to get red, or for her to say something in that icy voice of hers, but instead she smirked.
"Alright, fine. Seven it is. See you tonight Prof." This certainly shocked the Professor and after realizing that he was gaping at her retreating form, he was glad that no one was left in the room to see him.
Jasmine quickly climbed up the stairs to her dormitory, glad that double potions was the last class of the day. As she approached the painting of the Lady In The Black Dress, she spoke the password, "Emily Dickinson". In her fourth year, she had asked Dumbledor for her own private room. Knowing that Dumbledor would not just give anyone his or her own room, she told him the truth. Although Jasmine was practically invisible to her peers, she could see when someone was troubled, and acted like an agony aunt to the whole school. She knew almost everyone's secrets, and whenever someone had problems, she saw and made sure they were ok. She asked Dumbledor for her own rooms because it was becoming harder and harder to find a private place to talk. He willing agreed, and knew that her fellow students were not appreciative of her special care, and included bathrooms, and even a kitchenette in her quarters.
Jasmine had a special quality about her: it was as if she could read minds. She was impossible to lie to, although she herself could lie seamlessly. She could see behind any mask, although she herself wore one. She never let her emotions reach her face, and because of this she was on good terms with the whole school, including the Slytherins. She was a Gryfindor, but she didn't show it. In fact, she could have fit well into any house. Jasmine was always the observer, and picked up on details well.
As she entered her room, her whole body was filled with anger. Quickly casting a soundproofing spell, she let out a raging scream. How could he?! How could he take away her journal??? She didn't mind the detention, that was nothing, but her journal?! That was her personal writings!!! She took a deep breath, and her calm, cool, collected self returned. Not wanting to walk down to the Great Hall, she went to the kitchenette and fixed a quick meal. Spending the rest of the evening reading in her favorite book of poems, the time for her detention came.
AN: my first fic, please tell me wat you think!!!! I NEED A BETA!!! I NEED A BETA!!! EMAIL ME PLEASE!!!!!
Snape, in his usual sweep of robes, rushed into the room. With his trademark icy-cold voice, he began.
"Today we will be working on a depression potion. This potion- MS GRANGER PUT YOUR HAND DOWN! - This potion causes whoever drinks it to become severely depressed. If made incorrectly, the drinker will suffer from hysterics. The ingredients are on the board- Get Started." He was in an especially foul mood today, that morning Dumbledor asked him to help organize the next ball.
Stalking around the room, he came to stand beside the Golden Trios desks. His sharp ears immediately picked up on Hermione's whispered instructions to Neville.
"Ms. Granger, if you insist on opening your big mouth in class, I will have to give you a detention." Hermione blanched at the thought of a detention with Snape, and quickly shut her mouth, which only caused the Slytherins on the other sides of the room to laugh harder. Ron, growing red at Snape's comments, started to stand, but Harry held him back, whispering,
"Let it go Ron! It isn't worth it! This is our last year, you wouldn't want to get expelled now, would you?"
"But he just insulted "Mione!"
"Just cool, alright? The ball is in a month, he can take away our tickets!"
"Errrg!!! Alright, but if he says anything....."
"I know- I know!" Harry was worried; someday Ron's temper might get the best of him.
Snape, although walking away, heard the two of them. Damn Golden Trio!! I can NOT wait for this year to be over! Maybe Albus will let me retire...After all, with voldermort defeated, he has no need for me to stick around. Inspecting the cauldrons, he found that only Hermione had made the potion correctly. No, wait, who's was that back there? He turned and headed towards the mysterious girl. He couldn't remember seeing her before, but she must be a student, she was wearing the Gryfindor robes. Once he reached her desk, he recognized her, although it took him a few moments. She was Jasmine Spyri, a girl who always had her potions done early, and correctly. He was a little surprised to see that she was not sitting by another Gryfindor, but Blaise Zambini.
"Yes, Professor Snape?" Blaise asked hopefully, mentally praying that his potion was right.
"Mr. Zambini, your potion is a wreck. I suggest you dispose of it before it explodes and I have to send you to Madam Pomfrey." He replied to his student, and then turned his attention to the girl next to him. He was absolutely livid when he saw that she was not working on the potion, but writing in some sort of muggle notebook, instead of parchment.
"And why aren't you working on your potion?" He asked, with anger evident in his voice.
"As you can see, Prof. Snape, my potion is done, and there is no need to stir it any longer, that is, unless you would like it to become suicidal potion." So she was smart....the only other person (besides himself) that knew if you stirred it to long, it became a potion that made the drinker suicidal was ms. Granger.
"Well? What are you waiting for? Bottle it and place it on my desk!" His frosty voice had no affect on her, and she went on, writing another line or two in her notebook. Snape, upon looking back, realized that this girl could not be fazed by anything. He remembered one time, in her third year when Malfoy tried to startle her with a curse from behind, she simply turned around and threw a counter-curse. Malfoy was certainly surprised, and he never tried to pick on her again. After finishing, she quickly bottled up the potion, and cleaned her cauldron with a simple spell. While she was putting the flask on his desk, Snape sneaked a look at the notebook on which she was writing. He was a little surprised to see it was a poem, and had to make sure his face didn't show it before he went on to read it.
Hidden
I've been hiding,
Hiding from you
Keeping the pain
And the scars
To myself
You ask me what's wrong
But I assure you that I'm fine
I lied
I lied to you
But you don't know
You assume that I'm being honest
I'm not
You should know
That I'm not ok
You should see it
Look closer
Look closer into these eyes
The windows to my soul
Don't you see the hurt?
Don't you see the worry?
Don't you see
The pain etched on my skin?
Those little cuts
Don't come from nowhere
I guess you just don't care
You can't take the time
To take a good look at me
To see the life draining from me
To see that I'm hiding from you
Hiding,
Right when I need you the most
The girl's small neat handwriting was easy to read, and he quickly finished the short poem. The intensity of the words shocked him, and the obvious thought into each line was surprising. The poems he had seen written by other members of her year were only 3 or 4 lines, about cherubs and valentines. Glancing up, he saw that Jasmine had come back to her desk. She quickly closed her notebook, and with a look of pure disgust, she addressed the Prof. in a whisper, although the anger was obvious
"Prof. Snape, WHAT do YOU think you are doing?! It is incredibly disrespectful to read someone's PRIVATE notebook!!!" Snape, partially stunned at the outward way she spoke, answered
"Ms. Spyri, you will report in my office at 7 tonight for detention!"
"FOR WHAT?!" She said, still in a whisper, yet her voice was like venom. Again, Snape wondered why she was not placed in Slytherin.
"For questioning a Prof. actions. Class dismissed!" The students filed out, and Jasmine, placing her books in her pack, reached out for her notebook, to find that it was still in Snape's hand.
"You will give that back." She told him, in a commanding voice that was plain. It was so fierce, that Snape almost handed it back to her, but caught himself.
"I am confiscating this notebook, to ensure that you will be at detention tonight." He waited for her face to get red, or for her to say something in that icy voice of hers, but instead she smirked.
"Alright, fine. Seven it is. See you tonight Prof." This certainly shocked the Professor and after realizing that he was gaping at her retreating form, he was glad that no one was left in the room to see him.
Jasmine quickly climbed up the stairs to her dormitory, glad that double potions was the last class of the day. As she approached the painting of the Lady In The Black Dress, she spoke the password, "Emily Dickinson". In her fourth year, she had asked Dumbledor for her own private room. Knowing that Dumbledor would not just give anyone his or her own room, she told him the truth. Although Jasmine was practically invisible to her peers, she could see when someone was troubled, and acted like an agony aunt to the whole school. She knew almost everyone's secrets, and whenever someone had problems, she saw and made sure they were ok. She asked Dumbledor for her own rooms because it was becoming harder and harder to find a private place to talk. He willing agreed, and knew that her fellow students were not appreciative of her special care, and included bathrooms, and even a kitchenette in her quarters.
Jasmine had a special quality about her: it was as if she could read minds. She was impossible to lie to, although she herself could lie seamlessly. She could see behind any mask, although she herself wore one. She never let her emotions reach her face, and because of this she was on good terms with the whole school, including the Slytherins. She was a Gryfindor, but she didn't show it. In fact, she could have fit well into any house. Jasmine was always the observer, and picked up on details well.
As she entered her room, her whole body was filled with anger. Quickly casting a soundproofing spell, she let out a raging scream. How could he?! How could he take away her journal??? She didn't mind the detention, that was nothing, but her journal?! That was her personal writings!!! She took a deep breath, and her calm, cool, collected self returned. Not wanting to walk down to the Great Hall, she went to the kitchenette and fixed a quick meal. Spending the rest of the evening reading in her favorite book of poems, the time for her detention came.
AN: my first fic, please tell me wat you think!!!! I NEED A BETA!!! I NEED A BETA!!! EMAIL ME PLEASE!!!!!