DISCLAIMER: I am making no money off of this, and this site isn't either. This is purely fan-fiction written by a weird person who has absolutely nothing better to do than write this stuff. I don't own Harry Potter, Hogwarts, Snape, etc. J.K.R. does. And if I reference to anyone else that does not seem to be original, chances are, they aren't. But I do have some of my own original characters in here (i.e., maybe, JUST maybe, the characters I didn't mention in this disclaimer?) Please don't take these! However, if you do, I can't see what I can do about it. Just refrain, please?

Sam Snape, Cold-Blooded Wizard Detective

The name is Snape. Sam Snape. Private eye.

…Well, actually, it's Severus Samuel Snape, but I dropped my first name and the 'uel' of my second after the Dark Lord was finally banished four years ago. It makes my life, as a whole, a lot simpler. Sure, Sam is no wizard name. It is definitely Muggle. However, I hardly ever spend any of my time in the wizarding world anymore anyhow, so it doesn't matter much. I've banished myself forever to remain in within the realm of the highly dense civilization of non-magical folk.

Why, you ask, do I retire myself from the life I once lived to transplant myself in completely knew surroundings? The fact is, there are too many memories in the wizard world. Even after Voldemort was defeated by the blasted boy Harry Potter (not without a good amount of uncredited help from ME, no less,) my mind began to become restless, and my memories began to push out into the open again. Memories of many, many, things. Most of which you wouldn't want to know about if I paid you to listen. My brain, no longer under the stress of danger and vulnerability, began to become lax, and I very quickly became bored. Albus…(no, I know what you're thinking—I never killed him, and he never died. It was all a fiasco to put Voldemort off-guard. Anyhow…)…noticed this, and suggested I go off somewhere and become interested in something new. What a laughable idea. Yet, as I became gradually more and more desperate, I took up liquor (not for the first time, I'm sad to say…) and made my way through the day even more irritable and more evil than my usual self. At nights I fell into an inebriate's slumber, awakening almost too late in the morning to go to instruct my increasingly stupid, to put it bluntly, classes.

The worst change in me was my alcohol-induced forgiveness to Lupin and James Potter. Once Harry and Remus had come to visit me, Harry to thank me for saving his b-tt during the final battle, and Remus just because he wanted to come. I had been partaking of Ogden's rather freely a bit too early in the evening, and, to disguise very thinly, that fact, and just to plain get them out of my hair, I told them thanks now get out, thanks, ok fine I forgive you, and yes I'll forgive James, and yes I'll forgive Sirius, now get out, thanks, bye. They left feeling very satisfied, I'll bet. I didn't realize what I had said until morning, when it all came back to me like someone dumping a bucket of cold water on my head. I wasn't too pleased, but what could I do about it now? Go back to them and say, "Oh, yeah, well, sorry about last night, I meant nothing I said, I still hate you folks, yada yada yada?" No, even I, snarky old mean Snivellus, have more dignity than to go back on my word, despite the circumstances under which it was given. So I just avoided them both ever since, and that's all that happened. Sorry people who thought I was going to say I went and blasted Lupin's brains out and fed Potter to dementors!

Anyhow, the people who best knew me (Minerva and Albus) noticed the change in my attitude towards life. They say how I no longer cared for anything, how I always took to my rooms, how I skipped most meals and all other get-togethers. Although this was just a little more extreme than my usual ways, they somehow sensed my mental sickness. Finally, they forced me to talk it out with them. Their conclusions were that I was so bored as to be almost dangerous. At the end of the year, Albus dismissed me from my post of potions master, very gently but very promptly, and informed me of a lovely island in Hawaii that would make for an extremely rehabilitating visit. This, of course, I refused. I was NOT about to surround myself with tropical flowers, tanned ladies who can't speak proper English, and pineapples. Albus, at my decision, almost lost his temper at me. (Apparently, though he wouldn't admit it, he was getting so bored himself that he had nothing better to do.) Then, though, I had a temporary burst of genius amid the hangovers…dash it all, why not go live with the Muggles?

The thought had never occurred to me ever before. If I, in actuality, had ever remotely considered it, I would have dismissed it with a scornful air. But, for some strange reason, it now caught my fancy. Theirs was a world most interesting right now, especially when compared to our rather humdrum lives in Wizarding England. What with the War on Terror, Osama Bin Laden on the loose, Saddam Hussein, and all the rest of it. It would be almost like the 'good old days' of the war, when I actually had a purpose in life besides consuming strong beverages and sulking over Lily—wait, I said that out loud? Blast. Well, I suppose, since she's been long dead for decades, there's no real harm in confessing it. I was (wait, scratch that…AM) in love with Lily Evans. Yes, Potter Sr.'s wife and Potter Jr.'s mother. The one and same Lily Evans. And I haven't gotten over her, not yet I haven't.

Anyways, we've been getting just a tad bit off topic…now where was I? Oh yes, the Muggles. Well, what with all the squabbles they've been having amongst themselves, lately, I decided that I may as well leave the wizards and go help out in what small ways I could in the Muggle world. And how better to do that than start a detective agency?

"Oh no," you're probably thinking. "Oh no. Snape + detective work big mistake. How in the world could this catastrophe be possible?" In answer to this, I'll try and explain as best I can. I've always considered myself an extremely logical man with a good deal of common sense. In addition to this, I even am somewhat, if not highly, intelligent. A rather odd and especial combination; many people with common sense have little or no education, and many others who are highly intelligent have no common sense. And, also, I tend to notice things. Little things, things other people usually miss. Like a tiny crumb at the corner of someone's mouth that indicates that they've been indulging in a between-meal snack. Or like an unintentionally mismatched pair of stockings which could mean that either a) the wearer dressed in the dark or b) the wearer had nothing that matched better or c) they were in too much of a rush to dress to notice. Or like any number of other things that show a lot about a person. In the position of a private investigator, I can use this skill to my advantage. So that, combined with the fact that I knew little about the Muggle world in general, I decided that this would be an ideal undertaking for a middle-age-just-on-the-verge-of-old bachelor with absolutely no way of doing anything else worthy of note in his life.

So here I am, I've rented out an office in Muggle London, attached my firm's name to the door, and set up an advertisement in the newspaper. I've put away my robes and wand, instead getting out a comically unobvious tan raincoat and a registered Colt .42. I've even scrounged up enough cash to purchase a Muggle laptop to take advantage of the free wireless internet of this building. All I need is the notorious divine-goddess-of-a-secretary/sidekick-whose-only-fault-is-that-she-wears-glasses to answer the phone, and a fedora for myself, and I'm all set. But I think I can wait on these until I've returned a rich duchess's pearls to the rightful owners a few times over. I've waited a day for a reply to my ad, and I'm counting down the days until my rent is due on the apartment. To occupy my spare time, I do daily the crossword puzzles in the Muggle Times and write memoirs of my Death Eater days. And I'm writing this journal entry, didn't you know?

I think, though, that I'm going to close up shop now and head out to a local pub for an hour or so. Merlin, I need something strong.

Saluting in hopes of more zealous endeavors

Sam Snape

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To Be Continued!

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