Professor Snape sat alone in his empty dungeon classroom. The dampness and chill often made everyone shiver and complain but he had grown used to it. His students were convinced he surely wouldn't mind the cold for he felt nothing. As usual, he had several stack of potions essays on his desk to grade. He figured those would take his mind off of a certain recurring thought that bothered him that day. The day itself had to be one of the worst he had in a long time. Sighing, he took a paper from a pile and set it in front of him. The careful pair of dark eyes did not gloss over any sentence, yet analyzed every word. It did not take him long to find something to scoff at.
"These third years know absolutely nothing." He mumbled "I knew more as a first year."
His quill scratched red corrections here and there. A scowl spread across his face and before long, the whole paper was full of marks and ruled as "Dreadful." Disgusted, he took a look at the name of the paper's owner. It was from a Hufflepuff.
"That figures." He remarked and put it aside, taking another into his grasp.
Minutes passed by as did hours and finally he could not bear to look at one more. The majority of graded papers had been Poor, Dreadful and Trolls. Only few were ever Average or Exceeding Expectations. Those usually came from Slytherin students of course, Hermione Granger, or exceptional Ravenclaws. Never were they Outstanding though. Outstandings were reserved only for those who truly deserved them. No one had ever come close to that. In a fit of passion he pushed all of the essays, graded or not, onto the stone floor and exclaimed to himself.
"What do they NOT understand? Back when I was a student I EXCELLED at Potions!" he lowered his voice after reflecting for a moment then whispered bitterly "Potter would scowl with jealousy when he watched me and…"
Snape didn't dare finish that sentence and tried to push the memories out of his mind. But it was late; his attempt was in vain and they all came flooding back whether he wanted them or not.
….
It was January the ninth. Years ago on that very date, he would be sure to hear the words "Happy Birthday Sev!" ring out as clear as a bell. The thought made his throat go dry. He hadn't heard the saying since his fourth year for it came from the only one who truly cared and remembered-Lily Evans. Before meeting her, he would receive an old t-shirt or some strange hand me down from his mother. Other times, his mother would simply forget. He learned from a very young age he would get almost nothing so he never asked for anything. Even he would forget. But only after briefly mentioning it to Lily did she retain it. Every year she did her best to make them special.
When he turned ten, Lily bought him a large assorted bag of muggle candies. It was the first kind of candy he had ever received and it tasted incredible. During their first year at Hogwarts, she made him a card. It was simple but she had put an enchantment on the words and pictures to make them moved and dance around the page. One time she even knitted him a Slytherin scarf. He wore it every year since. It kept him so warm from his world of ice. To some those gifts would not seem like much but to him they were everything. He still had all of the gifts she had ever given him stashed away-minus the candy.
Again the words "Happy Birthday Sev!" sounded in his mind and he felt the sting of tears he tried desperately to fight away.
This time he closed his eyes and could almost feel her hugging him in a tight embrace like she did when they were friends. He sighed. If he had not relayed the prophecy, she still would have probably been alive. Perhaps if he had told her the reason why she was different from the rest of the Muggleborns, she might have forgiven him. Or if he actually listened to her and not have consumed himself in the Dark Arts, they most likely would not have quarreled in the first place.
Severus then pictured her pulling away from the hug and smiling up at him, her green eyes staring into his with love. Love-a feeling given to him only by her. Of course it was reciprocated- but only in secret. If only he could have shown and told Lily just how much he loved her, then he knew things would have been different. She would actually be in his arms wishing him a Happy Birthday that very moment.
When he felt a tear slide down onto his cheek, he realized how foolish he was being. Snape immediately wiped it away, no longer wanting to feel sorry for himself. Crying was a weakness to a man like him and he would not be called weak. With a flick of his wand, the papers that were on the floor flew back on his desk, stacked and sorted once again. From his classroom he walked with quick yet heavy footsteps, slamming the door behind himself. His lonely chamber awaited him.
On his way to his chamber, he spotted a pair of Slytherins in an empty corridor a little ways away. One was a boy and the other a girl, clearly a couple. He was about ready to yell at them for being out past curfew but then the boy said
"Happy Birthday." To her and presented her with a present.
Snape watched carefully, not interrupting just yet. The girl looked very surprised yet happy as she unwrapped the medium sized green package. A startled expression then spread across her face as she lifted a silver necklace from the box. She cried out with glee and he helped her put it on.
"Oh Ross, this is exactly what I've been wanting. It's stunning! - How did you know?" she asked turning to him.
"Because I know you- and I love you." The sly boy said proudly
"Oh! I love you too!" she exclaimed pulling him close to her and kissing him full on the mouth.
That was when Professor Snape interfered and demanded the two return to the common room, docking ten points from their own house. The two looked slightly shocked, embarrassed and disappointed yet still a ghost of a smile was on their lips as they walked away. The man shook his head at their foolishness and made his way on by.
What did Snape want for his Birthday? What did he wish for?...Well it was always the same. Each year he would ask for one thing only. Closing his eyes he would wish for Lily-to have her and hold her once more. Of course every year he would never get what he wanted. He would get nothing for no one cared, and no one remembered.