Snape's lady

Chapter one: Behind the curtains

For her - the fair and debonair, that now so lowly lies,
The life upon her yellow hair, but not within her eyes -
The life still there upon her hair - the death upon her eyes.

'Lenore' by Edgar Allan Poe (1831)

Snape looked down, scowling. He should have been more careful. If he couldn't control himself he might as well give up. Getting out of the bed he fished about in his coat-pockets finally finding the vial he was looking for and muttered "Drink this" over his shoulder to the mound stretched on the bed. He heard a rustle like a blanket snatched hurriedly up and after a few seconds the vial was gone to the sound of gurgling.

Taking the money from his pocket and placing it on the dresser he remembered the vial, a stupid Hogwarts-stamped bottle from his personal stores. Sneering at himself he turned and snatched the vial back noticing that the ugly red marks were gone from the pale white neck.

Going out he thought to himself again that he should use simpler unmarked bottles for these little away-from-school excursions but that perfect shade of Slytherin-green just couldn't be found anywhere else and he was always very careful after all not to leave them lying about.

Entering the pub in the corner with the ridiculous name "The slimy mistress" he bought a straight fire-sherry and apparated back to the Hogwarts entrance. From the din in the dining hall, meal was just starting. He made his way slowly to the head table trying to avoid the little vermin that infested the castle with his scowls.

As he was taking his seat, Dumbledore called out one of his chirpy greetings and asked where he was all afternoon.

Snape tried to recall what his excuse was supposed to be this time "I went to buy some potion supplies and stopped for a drink" he muttered guiltily, reminding himself to stop by the apothecary next time before he got back.

"Wonderful, wonderful" enthused his beaming headmaster and started on his revolting strawberry-lemon cheryngue pie. Dumbledore may be the greatest wizard since Merlin himself but his personal tastes were just childish and saccharine. Snape always believed in the secret places of his heart that this was yet another punishment fate had shoved on him for his crimes as a Death Eater. While Voldemort may have been as evil, cruel and mean as you could get he knew all about what good taste meant. Dumbledore was the complete opposite to that. Sighing, Snape straightened his school robes thinking, you just couldn't have everything in life.

Gliding back to his quarters in the dungeons he tried to forget the 'quickie' he bought today on his visit to London. He just had to take out the steam he got from seeing the Potter boy get away with yet another disdainful disregard for the rules of the school. The boy was the spitting image of his father and you could see in his doggy stares the influence of his godfather. Just seeing him, made his fingers itch for his wand to try some recreative transfiguring. After all if mad-eye Moody could make a ferret out of the Malfoy boy with hardly a scold he should get something for all the misery Potter put him through.

Taking off his robes he got to bed and tried to get some sleep. He could already feel her lurking in the dark with the soft ethereal smile that drove him mad with desire, just waiting for him to close his eyes. Snuggling under the covers he whispered to himself "My one true love" as he shut the sight of that outside world…

Author's Note - reposting an old fic