Hey, y'all. This is a cross-over fic; it's between The Shining and Harry Potter, which is weird but it slipped into my mind whilst Mr Power (my tutor) was signing my homework diary, so it's fairly random. I might carry on if I get reviews. Bearing in mind, THIS IS BASED ON A STEPHEN KING BOOK so it's not all fluffy ponies and rabbits eating rainbows. I hope you like it Constant Reader. Severus' partner, Laurie, is an OC but she is NOT a Mary-Sue, I promise. Love to you all xxxxxx Dolly
The Shining Of Severus Snape
"All the hotel's eras are together now, all but the current one, the Torrance Era. And this would be together with the rest very soon now. That was good, that was very good."
The Shining, Stephen King
"Of course it's happening in your head, but why on earth should that mean it's not real?"
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, JK Rowling
Part One: The Simple Matter Of Forming A New Life
Chapter One: From One Job to Another
With a reproachful look towards his uncle, Severus Snape thought: how am I related to this man? Uncle Simon was small and plump, and his face was bulbous and crimson, reminding Severus of an inflated bauble. He moved in an exact and methodical manner that seemed to be exclusive to all men who believed they were distinguished in their own array of fields. His hair formed a mass of spirals around his head, and looked as if it was the result of a child and a pencil, and the pencil had left marks of faded grey in the crayon-yellow of the ringlets. There was something in his cornflower-blue eyes, a You-do-not-mess-with-me message that glinted subtly, stealthily becoming more bright and distinct as he spoke. Severus was Simon's nephew; the only connection between them was Eileen Prince, Severus' mother and Simon's sister. Uncle Simon's face was laced with creases; a small amount of auburn facial hair surrounded his thin, cracked lips. His indigo suit sent a curt message to employees, a welcoming one to guests.
Severus thought the room was astoundingly sumptuous, despite its modest size. Everything from the beige carpet to the ivory curtains seemed to be of the finest quality. The desk behind which Uncle Simon was sat was oak and on top of it were several neat piles of papers covered with large, looping handwriting. Uncle Simon ran the hotel they were both currently situated in; it was aptly named, due to its location, Lakeview, and was the sort of hotel featured in pompous conversations between couples attempting to heighten their reputation. Severus liked it to an extent; he liked the sheer size of it and how it so easy to get lose within the elaborate, labyrinthine corridors. He remembered spending a summer here as a child, aged between nine and ten as he emerged from his childhood in the turbulent teen years. He did not like how commercialized it had become since that summer. Now there were posters all over the walls advertising popular sugary drinks; there was an outhouse where the pool was; there was a gymnasium and a sauna. There were dance classes and there was yoga, and an endless list of other activities that occurred routinely. Wasn't this supposed to be place where people escaped from such things? He rolled his eyes.
This was the only job he could find and he was mildly content with it. He had lost his teaching profession after an incident that he did not regret and had been glad to escape from the school where his triumphs were intertwined with his futile attempts to appear ordinary and well-liked. Uncle Simon was both relieved and amused to find Severus capable of looking after Lakeview during the winter months, when the hotel was closed and isolated. He had tried to find somebody else who was qualified in caretaking, but he had done so without hope. Severus had Apparated to the hotel a few days after he had given up and Uncle Simon had been mildly amused by the sheer fluke that was present before him. That was the start of the Snape era and Severus found himself wishing he had never dropped into the hotel. The cycle had begun again. This time, it was fragile.