A/N: First and only lengthy AN. First: I adore this magical world so much so that I was worried writing a fanfiction story would tarnish the beauty of it. Nonetheless, I have written a story of my absolute favorite fictional character, Severus Snape. This story is nearly completed, so do not worry that I won't finish it.
Warning: This has Americanized dialogue. Unfortunately, I find myself unable to properly master English dialogue without sounding ignorant. I welcome criticism, but not blatant rudeness.
Holly Potter wasn't aware that she was dreaming until it was too late to force herself awake. She was walking, but it was dark enough that she couldn't see any of her surroundings. She could feel the icy, wet fingers of grass trying to grasp her bare legs. In the ringing, suffocating silence she could just hear the sound of the ocean. Her breathing was shallow, but she could still smell a musty, rotten odor. Forcing herself not to gag, she clamped her hand over her mouth and kept walking. It was almost as if she was being forced to walk closer to the rotten smell. The further she went, the darker and colder it became. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck were standing up and her body broke out with gooseflesh.
She could hear her heartbeat pounding in her chest and her fingers shook as she heard a hissing sound in front of her. She dropped her hand from her mouth and clenched her fingers into fists. If she was going to die, she would try her hardest to maim whatever monster was making that wretched hissing sound. Then, she heard him. His voice was nearly impossible to describe. Pitched low, yet held an inhumane note to it. The hissing continued as he sneered, "Have you finally come to me, my dear? Where is your band of saviors? Where is that old man whom you claim to adore so much?"
Holly felt sudden and acute relief to know that none of her friends, nor Dumbledore or Ron's parents were here. Not Sirius or Remus. Not even any of her teachers. Just her and Voldemort. As the relief ebbed away, hot anger was there to take its place. Holly opened her mouth and retorted loudly, "Professor Dumbledore is much more than an old man. He will defeat you. He's greater than you could ever be."
A cackling, sinister filled the night air and somehow made it colder. Holly's heart hammered against her ribcage in a painful way as she desperately wished for her wand. Where was it? Why didn't she have it? What was she to do now? She squinted in an attempt to see the monster hidden within the darkness, but she saw nothing. Voldemort's sickening laugh trailed off as he asked, "Are you afraid, Potter?"
"Not of you." She snarled as rage continued to fill her to the brink of madness. Her entire body shook as she took two steps forward. "Show yourself, coward! Fight me like a man! Stop playing around and fight!"
Her screeching turned to inhuman noises of rage as she went crashing through the thick grass. This felt good. The anger, the coursing waves of feeling crashing through her was the best thing she had ever felt. Just as Holly saw the shadowed outline of Voldemort standing alongside the ocean side, a warm hand snuck from behind and wrapped around her waist. The person yanked her back several feet within the span of a single second. She struggled and snarled, "Let me go! Let go of me now!"
The body was that of a male. She could not see his face, but she felt the tall length of his body and the subtle feel of wiry muscles underneath his robes. The man spoke an incantation, but Holly was too caught up in the sound of her own heartbeat and Voldemort's cold laughter to hear her rescuer's voice. There was a blinding blue-white light and then she was being yanked through the air, through time, through space. This feeling was closely related to the yanking feeling of a portkey, yet much worse. She landed roughly, but was cushioned by the man. Her vision was blurry for a moment before he came into view. His hands were running lightly over her arms as his familiar voice spoke in an unfamiliar tone.
"Are you okay?" He asked gently, "Do you have any injuries?"
She laid her head upon his shoulder and felt the loud thumping of his heart. She murmured in a soft voice, "I'm okay now that I'm here with you, Severus."
She woke with a sharp gasp as she bolted upward in bed. Cold sweat was running down her back as she flicked her long, sticky hair away from her face. A headache was slicing away at her brain, but all she could do was burry her face into her palms and rub pitifully at her forehead. Her scar was stinging, but that was nothing new to her. She had spent the last five weeks with constant nightmares followed by continuous headaches. A quiet hooting noise made her look up; she could see blurry outline of Hedwig sitting atop her cage.
After rooting around on her bedside table, she found her glasses and slipped them over the bridge of her small nose. Hedwig, her beautiful snowy owl, was perched in a dignified manner. Tied to her leg was a small piece of parchment. Excitement flared up inside of her as she tiptoed to Hedwig and carefully took the letter from the owl's leg. However, as soon as she opened it, her heart thudded in disappointment. The letter read: Be ready. Love, Sirius.
Anger caused her to bite her lip to keep from screaming. She huffed, "Be ready for what, exactly? That's not a lot to go on."
She read the letter once more, shredded it, threw it aside, and flopped onto her bed. She was sweaty and irritable and downright embarrassed about her nightmare. Why was Snape, who loathed Holly Potter more than any other student in the entire castle, in her dream? Why did he save her? Where was Dumbledore or Sirius? Hermione and Ron? She could still feel the length of his body; feel the tenderness of his fingertips as they trailed across her arms.
Her cheeks burned with a searing blush as she watched the sunrise through her barred window. She wondered how that letter became attached to Hedwig's leg when there was no way for Hedwig to fly about. She had been, as all of the previous years, locked away in her cage. Holly had managed to pick the lock and allow Hedwig to mingle around her bedroom, but not once had she been allowed to send or retrieve letters.
Thinking of her lack of letters made hot anger course through her veins once again. Why hadn't anybody contacted her since the summer holiday? She knew Voldemort was growing in power, despite her lack of evidence since the Triwizard Tournament, but that didn't mean powerful wizards such as Dumbledore, Remus, Sirius, or Mr. Weasley couldn't find ways to contact her besides owl postage. Hadn't she proved how valuable she was? Hadn't she proved she had what it took to duel against Voldemort? And, for some reason, if she hadn't proven herself, then why hadn't anybody told her so? Was she so easily forgotten? So easily tossed to the side? Why was she being left in the dark while Voldemort rose to power and continued to plot her death?
These were the same painful questions that had been festering beneath her skin for the last five weeks. Day and night, it never ended. It was a vicious cycle of abuse from the Dursleys, mind-numbing nightmares that left her sleepless and ear-splitting headaches that hardly ever faded. Once the sun rose, she listened to the sounds of the Dursleys waking. As she heard Uncle Vernon unlocking the dozens of locks on her door, she jumped up and shoved Hedwig into her cage. Uncle Vernon threw the door open, suspiciously cast his eyes around and then barked, "You have five minutes to shower and dress before you are to be downstairs, cooking breakfast."
Because Holly knew how the game went, she showered as quickly as possible and stumbled down the staircase. She cooked at a fast speed, but knew better than to undercook the fried eggs or burn the toast. After serving all three Dursleys the correct portion of breakfast, Holly began to wash dishes. When nobody was watching her, she snatched up a piece of toast and chewed quickly. After washing the dry food down with some water, she continued washing dishes.
Her day continued just as miserable and just as boring as every other day that she had spent in this hell. Everything irritated her. The heat. The sound of the television. Dudley snoring on the sofa. Aunt Petunia's flower beds. Her glasses, which continued to slip down her sweaty nose. She desperately wished she was old enough to use magic outside of Hogwarts. If that was the case, she would have turned Dudley into a pig, corrected her eyesight that way she would not be wearing her stupid glasses, and Apparate to Hogwarts so she could demand answers from Dumbledore.
A small gift, perhaps given by a merciful hand of fate, was that Holly no longer had to mow the lawn. For the last three weeks, there had been a shortage on the local water supply. This summer was welcoming a drought. It was a small gift not to have to mow the lawn in the beating heat, but that also meant Holly didn't get proper amounts of water when doing the chores outside. She had, from the earliest memory she could remember, drank from the water hose when finishing outside chores. The water spicket, no matter how much she tried, would produce no water. That's how she found herself gasping and shivering as the sun finally set.
She had spent all day in the heat: trimmed the hedges, planted seedlings, fertilized the flower beds, pulled weeds, rearranged the patio furniture, and scrubbed the sides of the house with a new chemical cleaner Aunt Petunia was fond of. As Holly forced her body under the showerhead, she decided she wasn't fond of Aunt Petunia's chemical cleaner at all. Suddenly, Uncle Vernon knocked loudly on the bathroom door and yelled, "Hurry up, girl!"
Holly rinsed her hair, shut the water off, and wrapped herself in a towel. Her fingertips were pink and raw from the cleaner. The back of her neck was sunburnt badly enough that it was in the process of blistering. She slipped her glasses off, tossed them on her bedside table and promptly fell asleep.
She dreamed of Voldemort again. He was killing innocent Muggles right in front of her. Maiming them. Taunting them. Murdering them. Holly struggled, trying to force herself to stop him. Then, Snape was there again. He was pulling her away from her enemy. Pulling her further and further away until she was safely under his arm.
The dream abruptly ended as she sat up and groaned. The pain in her head was horrid, but that was almost forgotten as she heard a familiar voice whispered, "Holly? Are you okay?"
She let out a high-pitched yelp and then another voice snarled, "I thought Sirius warned her to be ready? That we were coming?"
"Nobody told me anything." Holly retorted in a venomous voice as she blindly reached for her glasses. Hermione, who had been the first to speak, grabbed Holly's hand and murmured a quiet incantation. Holly's anger subsided for a moment as the world came into shocking clarity around her. She grabbed her glasses, shoved them into the pocket of her shorts, and glanced around. The terrifying Auror, Moody, was leaning against the wall while Mr. Weasley, Fred Weasley, and George Weasley smiled as if this were a perfectly normal occasion. "Why are you all here?"
Moody rolled his one good eye and roughly said, "Hurry and pack your bags."
Holly and Hermione quietly and quickly packed while Holly's mind ran with questions. Holly turned to Hermione a moment later and stated, "I can't believe you did a spell to enhance my eyesight while we were away from Hogwarts."
Hermione replied in a matter-of-fact voice, "We will be learning that very spell this year at school. Therefore, it would be on the list of spells we are allowed to practice over the holidays. I have begun studying for this year. You haven't, have you, Holly?"
Holly muttered irritably, "Been too busy being a slave."
Hermione bit her lip as her brown eyes ran over Holly's face. She quietly admitted, "You do look tired."
"Alright," Moody said, "That's enough. Let's get going."
"Don't mind, Moody." Fred whispered as they all walked down the staircase, "He's been a bit worse than normal…because of You-Know-Who."
Holly rolled her eyes and squeezed her wand as Moody opened the front door. He muttered underneath his breath, although Holly had no clue what he said, before Holly's prized possession came flying from inside the cupboard. It was Holly's Firebolt. Her heart soared in her chest, despite her exhaustion. She would be flying.
Moody and the Weasleys all called out an incantation Holly had never heard before. A moment passed where nothing happened. Then, quite suddenly, four brooms appeared in front of them. Each man mounted their broom while Holly frowned at Hermione. She asked, "Where's your broom?"
Hermione looked as if she might be sick at any moment. She mumbled, "I'm to ride with you, Moody said."
Holly nodded and gestured with her chin. "Get on then."
Hermione was attached to Holly like a leech, but Holly didn't care. She went up immediately after a powerful kickoff, ignoring the scared squeak Hermione made. She followed closely to Moody as he gruffly barked orders at her. He snarled, "You stay by me, Potter! If Death Eaters show up, you stay by me!"
Fortunately, the ride passed with no Death Eaters. Holly's heart was pounding happily and she couldn't help the big grin that stretched across her face. The wind was blowing her messy hair around and she could see, from a glance at the Weasley twins, that they were enjoying flying just as much as she was. It ended all too soon as Holly watched Moody touch down in a shadowed Muggle park. Holly followed suite while Hermione whimpered.
The moment the Firebolt came to the ground, Hermione hopped off and drew her wand. Holly held her broom at her side while her right hand wielded her wand. Moody lead the group while the Weasleys and Hermione blocked Holly in a square formation. This irritated Holly quite a bit- she could care for herself and was not in need of protection- but she didn't say any of this out loud. They came to what looked like an ordinary Muggle apartment building. However, after several moments, the building split in two and revealed a black door. Holly's shocked face must have been comical because the Weasley brothers laughed quietly. What was this place?
A/N: Feel free to review. I will update every four or five days. Sooner, depending on the amount of feedback I receive.