DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.
Written for Dialogue Challenge
Characters: Severus Snape and Petunia Dursley
Written for Cinema Competition
Film: Love Actually
Prompt: Write about a romance, in any sense, whether it be fluffy or angsty or tragic.
Written for Drabble Club
Prompt: "Is it really that hard to believe?" (dialogue)
Written for If You Dare Challenge
Prompt: So you say…
[Challenge] The Staff Room
Prompt: Write about a person in the Hogwarts staff. I chose Severus Snape.
Written for Quidditch Pitch
Prompt: consumed (word)
"Snape," she says sharply, the sneer that he knows all too well on her face—even though it's too dark to tell.
"Tuney," he replies, equally mocking.
"Don't call me that."
"Why? Is it too… childish for you?" he says, letting out a derisive laugh.
"Just shut up, will you?" she grumbles.
"How's life with that whale you're married to? What's his name? Dursley? Sounds as idiotic as he is," he says smoothly, ignoring her growl.
"Fine. Vernon's simply an angel," she answers, the adoring simper her face is wearing seeming forced.
"I'm sure he is," he drawls sarcastically.
"Why are you here anyway?"
"Lily."
"But she's getting married to that Potter, and he's your enemy…" she says, trailing off.
"What are you doing here?"
"She's my sister. It's obligatory."
"She was my friend. It's obligatory."
"You called her a name. And it wasn't a nice one," she says.
"I regret it," he responds, pain filling his voice.
"Why did you do it?" she asks after a moment of silence.
"I had to."
"No one has to do anything."
"Look who's talking. The girl who was forced into marrying a whale."
"I love Vernon!" she protests weakly.
"So you say..." he says, raising an eyebrow.
"Is it really that hard to believe?"
"As if anyone could love that fat, vile disgrace!" he laughs, his voice nearly consumed by his snorting.
"Stop! Just stop! It's bad enough that you had to come here; now you're insulting me too!" she shrieks, unable to control her irritation. "It's not as if you would actually know what love is!"
"I do."
"Lily?" she asks, taken aback by the soft, regretful words.
With a small nod, he answers, "Always."
"She'll never love you back."
"I know she won't," he says, his words heavy with rue.
"What's the point, then?
"And you act like you understand love," he says, shaking his head. "If you truly love someone, you will never stop loving them. You never let go."
"Is that how you feel?" she asks quietly.
"Always," he repeats. "But you don't feel that way about Dursley, do you?"
"I suppose not," she says after a moment of hesitation, her voice tinged with a slight embarrassment.
"Isn't it ironic? That we, two people who have despised each other from childhood, are similar? Connected? I cannot have the one I love, and you do not love the one you have."
"It quite is," she agrees, letting out a small, humorless laugh.
"Love connects us. And it will never let us out of its cruel snares."
They hold each other's gaze, blue battling black, then turn and walk away, and one thing is clear; they are connected, and always will be.