And They Cried Themselves to Sleep
~~~~~
Foreword:
This story takes place two years before Harry Potter entered Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Ms. Victoria Clausen in which this story concerns left Hogwarts soon after this event unfolded.
~~~~~
She was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. At first, Severus Snape hated her. He had long been vying for that job at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but had been forced to lie in wait as the Potions Master.
However, upon meeting Ms. Victoria Clausen, Snape's views changed. At a faculty meeting discussing the idea of starting a class on Experimental Spells, he was stunned by her intellect and subtle wit. Hogwarts had never had a professor whose adroitness in magic impressed him so much. Even more intriguing to him was that her prowess was matched by ethereal beauty.
At first he tried to deny the emotions that stirred within the deepest recesses of his heart. He ignored them the way he ignored anything that got too close. Severus Snape in love? The very thought was laughable. But he would find himself slipping off into thoughts of her as he sat in his dungeons day after day. After all, his job did get rather tedious. Papers to read, spells in need of correction, unread homework, ignorance, laziness - the same old monotony. Even the Slytherins had begun to agitate him with their incessant grousing. The only solace he found was in allowing those little thoughts to enter his mind, though even this did little to appease him. He had put up a façade of coldness for so long, who would want him now?
One evening he stood in silence sorting out potion ingredients for the next day's class, when he heard a faint noise behind him. Expecting another pesky student, he spun around wearing his usual dour expression. When he saw it was Professor Clausen he straightened and smiled. "Need anything, Professor?" He asked politely.
"Well, I feel rather silly asking you this, but I am in need of a potion that I cannot make. I was never any good at them. And who better to ask for help than the potions master himself?" She returned his smile, and held out a spellbook.
It was a simple enough concoction. He walked to his cabinet to find the necessary ingredients. He had plenty on the table before him, but he had to hide his burning face. He could do this in his sleep, why were his hands shaking?
As he stood, mixing the ingredients, Victoria watched him. She had watched him all year. She longed to know what was hiding under that somber, black- cloaked figure. His hands mesmerized her, as if every motion was rehearsed. But he would never need anyone. He was too pertinacious, too shut off from the world. He was as cold as the dungeons he taught in.
He finished and handed her a goblet containing the frothy, purple mixture. "You might want to take this with water," he said, "it has a habit of sticking in one's throat."
Before Victoria knew what she was doing, she placed her hand over his as she took the goblet. Their eyes locked, and a ripple of apprehension shot through her.
Slowly, uncertainly, he placed the goblet down and pulled her trembling figure into his strong, secure hold. She had never felt so safe with anyone.
He looked down at her, and placed his finger under her chin. "Severus, I…" she began but he put his finger to her lips. "Shhh," he said softly. She reached up and pulled him to her and claimed those untouched lips as her own. At first they were stiff and unsure, but they warmed up as he gave in. It was slow, unhurried, and completely genuine. No pressure, just sweet acceptance.
Severus couldn't understand what was happening to him. But for the first time in as long as he could remember he allowed himself to act without thinking. He never let his emotions go unrestrained, but the steel bars holding him in were shattered.
When at long last they pulled apart, he held her in his arms and closed his eyes. It was so right.
He felt something wet in his eyes. The dungeon blurred as tears threatened to spill over his sculpted cheeks. Victoria sensed his tension and stepped away. The sight that met her eyes when she looked up was not the regal Professor Severus Snape, but a decimated figure who needed to be loved as much as anyone. He swayed, embarrassed to be seen in such a state.
"Why, Severus?" Her voice shattered the silence. "Why won't you let anyone get close?" For a moment she was afraid he would close up and never open again. But he didn't. "Because," he said quietly, "no one ever cared enough. There are things in everyone's past that cause pain, and how you deal with it becomes who you are."
It was now very obvious. "Who hurt you?" she asked softly. The pain in his eyes told her she had struck a nerve she hadn't looked for. He could never tell her, it was evident without it being spoken.
He glanced back at her, and was dazzled by her beauty. The evening glow that spilled through the rafters of the room danced through her hair and played across her face.
He stepped to her, and entwined his arms around her once more. As she fitted into his embrace, memories of past loves floated through his mind like leaves falling from a tree in autumn's wind. He ached to return to the past, rather than be stuck in an unforgiving present.
He took one last look at her, savoring her touch. After committing the scene to memory - knowing full well it would never be repeated - he finally slipped away. "I can't," he said simply. "It would never work. I'm sorry." He put his lips to her forehead, held them there, and backed away. With one sweeping motion, he turned and walked down the nearby steps, rounded a corner, and was gone. His strong footsteps faded as he was lost in the depths of the chambers that lay beneath the school.
He could never have been hers, she thought bitterly. He belonged to a ghost of the past whose place she would never fill. The tenderness he had given her was gone, and the room felt devoid of life.
There was nothing to be done. She stepped out of the room and headed back to the main halls of the school. Even though she was surrounded by laughter and cheer, she was cloaked in a shroud of solemnity.
Professor Severus Snape was to be untouched forever. And that night, two people at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry cried themselves to sleep.
~~~~~
Foreword:
This story takes place two years before Harry Potter entered Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The Ms. Victoria Clausen in which this story concerns left Hogwarts soon after this event unfolded.
~~~~~
She was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. At first, Severus Snape hated her. He had long been vying for that job at Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, but had been forced to lie in wait as the Potions Master.
However, upon meeting Ms. Victoria Clausen, Snape's views changed. At a faculty meeting discussing the idea of starting a class on Experimental Spells, he was stunned by her intellect and subtle wit. Hogwarts had never had a professor whose adroitness in magic impressed him so much. Even more intriguing to him was that her prowess was matched by ethereal beauty.
At first he tried to deny the emotions that stirred within the deepest recesses of his heart. He ignored them the way he ignored anything that got too close. Severus Snape in love? The very thought was laughable. But he would find himself slipping off into thoughts of her as he sat in his dungeons day after day. After all, his job did get rather tedious. Papers to read, spells in need of correction, unread homework, ignorance, laziness - the same old monotony. Even the Slytherins had begun to agitate him with their incessant grousing. The only solace he found was in allowing those little thoughts to enter his mind, though even this did little to appease him. He had put up a façade of coldness for so long, who would want him now?
One evening he stood in silence sorting out potion ingredients for the next day's class, when he heard a faint noise behind him. Expecting another pesky student, he spun around wearing his usual dour expression. When he saw it was Professor Clausen he straightened and smiled. "Need anything, Professor?" He asked politely.
"Well, I feel rather silly asking you this, but I am in need of a potion that I cannot make. I was never any good at them. And who better to ask for help than the potions master himself?" She returned his smile, and held out a spellbook.
It was a simple enough concoction. He walked to his cabinet to find the necessary ingredients. He had plenty on the table before him, but he had to hide his burning face. He could do this in his sleep, why were his hands shaking?
As he stood, mixing the ingredients, Victoria watched him. She had watched him all year. She longed to know what was hiding under that somber, black- cloaked figure. His hands mesmerized her, as if every motion was rehearsed. But he would never need anyone. He was too pertinacious, too shut off from the world. He was as cold as the dungeons he taught in.
He finished and handed her a goblet containing the frothy, purple mixture. "You might want to take this with water," he said, "it has a habit of sticking in one's throat."
Before Victoria knew what she was doing, she placed her hand over his as she took the goblet. Their eyes locked, and a ripple of apprehension shot through her.
Slowly, uncertainly, he placed the goblet down and pulled her trembling figure into his strong, secure hold. She had never felt so safe with anyone.
He looked down at her, and placed his finger under her chin. "Severus, I…" she began but he put his finger to her lips. "Shhh," he said softly. She reached up and pulled him to her and claimed those untouched lips as her own. At first they were stiff and unsure, but they warmed up as he gave in. It was slow, unhurried, and completely genuine. No pressure, just sweet acceptance.
Severus couldn't understand what was happening to him. But for the first time in as long as he could remember he allowed himself to act without thinking. He never let his emotions go unrestrained, but the steel bars holding him in were shattered.
When at long last they pulled apart, he held her in his arms and closed his eyes. It was so right.
He felt something wet in his eyes. The dungeon blurred as tears threatened to spill over his sculpted cheeks. Victoria sensed his tension and stepped away. The sight that met her eyes when she looked up was not the regal Professor Severus Snape, but a decimated figure who needed to be loved as much as anyone. He swayed, embarrassed to be seen in such a state.
"Why, Severus?" Her voice shattered the silence. "Why won't you let anyone get close?" For a moment she was afraid he would close up and never open again. But he didn't. "Because," he said quietly, "no one ever cared enough. There are things in everyone's past that cause pain, and how you deal with it becomes who you are."
It was now very obvious. "Who hurt you?" she asked softly. The pain in his eyes told her she had struck a nerve she hadn't looked for. He could never tell her, it was evident without it being spoken.
He glanced back at her, and was dazzled by her beauty. The evening glow that spilled through the rafters of the room danced through her hair and played across her face.
He stepped to her, and entwined his arms around her once more. As she fitted into his embrace, memories of past loves floated through his mind like leaves falling from a tree in autumn's wind. He ached to return to the past, rather than be stuck in an unforgiving present.
He took one last look at her, savoring her touch. After committing the scene to memory - knowing full well it would never be repeated - he finally slipped away. "I can't," he said simply. "It would never work. I'm sorry." He put his lips to her forehead, held them there, and backed away. With one sweeping motion, he turned and walked down the nearby steps, rounded a corner, and was gone. His strong footsteps faded as he was lost in the depths of the chambers that lay beneath the school.
He could never have been hers, she thought bitterly. He belonged to a ghost of the past whose place she would never fill. The tenderness he had given her was gone, and the room felt devoid of life.
There was nothing to be done. She stepped out of the room and headed back to the main halls of the school. Even though she was surrounded by laughter and cheer, she was cloaked in a shroud of solemnity.
Professor Severus Snape was to be untouched forever. And that night, two people at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry cried themselves to sleep.