Disclaimer-I do not own Harry Potter or any other character mentioned in
this story. JK Rowling, Scholastic Press, Bloomsbury Press, Warner Bros.
and other associated parties own the works Harry Potter and the
Philosopher's Stone, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Harry Potter
and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Harry
Potter and the Order of the Pheonix, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find
Them, Quidditch Through the Ages, and any other future books in the series.
I do not take credit for any of these works, and congratulate Ms. Rowling
on her success in the business.
Anything not recognized from the Harry Potter Series which includes Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Harry Potter and the Order of the Pheonix, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, and Quidditch Through the Ages, is therefor owned by I, Unless otherwise stated. Please do not reproduce anything it owned by I unless you have sought proir written consent from I.
Professor Snape glanced around the potions storeroom which connected to his office attempting in vain to remeber what he had gone in there for. Leaving the storeroom mumbling about something, in a tone so low, if anybody had been listening in they would have only caught a few words. But one word, one word seemed to dominate in the amount of it's use. It seemed to be used much, much more than any other word being said. It was obviously the topic of whatever he was mumbling on about. Potter.
Returning to his desk, he noticed it piled high with papers, essays no dobut. Pulling himself back to reality and away from his mumblings he half considered, giving the students less homework, after all it would mean he also would have less work. But as soon as the idea came to him he brushed it away, unwilling to even consider it a second longer.
Taking an essay from the top of a pile, Snape read the name out aloud from the top of the parachment "Lavander Brown" before dropping the parachment back onto his desk.
Relizing what class' essays these where Snape shook his head his mind in an instant jumping to the first thing he though of whenever he was reminded of this class. Harry Potter. Trying to fight off the memory that came racing back whenever he though of him, Snape leaned back in his chair eventually surrenduring to the memory and allowing them to flow, as every single small detail zipped into it's rightful sequence. ~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~ He bumped into that girl and she was absolutly perfect. He was in his seventh year and while heading up to his common room he bumped into her. Her perfect red hair, her perfect eyes and how could he ever forget, her perfect smile, she'd dazzled him, to him it felt as if someone had placed a spell on him, a spell he knew in the instant their eyes met, a spell he never wanted lifted. At the time he vaguely rembered seing her around the castle a few times, and he silently cursed at himself for being too wrapped up in his own activities, to really care about anybody but himself and his friends
And it was during this very instant he knew that the spell was love. Not a love spell nor potion but the real and true thing, he couldn't explain to himself at that moment or even years later how he came to this conclusion, but he knew beyond a resonable dobut that it was the right one.
From that moment on he spent all his free time around her, with her. She was the first thing he thought about when he woke up and the last thing he thought about before drifting off to sleep. And then as the year was drawing to a close, and they had just graduated from Hogwarts only moments earlier. However it had felt like an eternity, after the eternity had finished, which in reality was a few short minutes, he proposed. In front of everyone. His parents, her parents, their whole year and all their parents and not to mention the many other onlookers which included Ministry of Magic representatives, reporters, and not their old Professors. And not even a second passed after the last words left his mouth before her reply came in a slightly louder tone, which managed to hold the feelings of excitment, joy, happiness, surprise, shock and of course love in it.
A year or so went by, or perhaps even two or three, he couldn't keep track spending a day with her only felt like a few seconds, passing at lightning speed, before they had a son, their first son, their only son. Their son. And oh how perfect he was in everyway, a bright boy, always inquisitive, always exploring, always ready to play.
Then before he knew it the perfect life that he once had with his wife and son, was ripped from him, they where ripped apart, their once happy family life oblitirated before his eyes ~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~ Snape lifted up his cup, his gaze fixated on the thing that was keeping him alive and relitively close to his son, before taking a long drink from it, downing the whole thing the first go. As soon as the liquid hit his tastebuds a discusted expression spread quickly across his face. "That polyjuice potion never gets any better does it?" He asked to himself out aloud. Replacing the now empty cup on the edge of his desk. Absent mindedly he picked up his quill, not intending to do anything in particular, aside from twirl it between his fingers before he noticed a bottle of red ink which he had uncorked previously to mark the pile of essays still sitting on his desk. Remebering what class the essays had originated from he dug through the pile before extracting the one which he was so obviously look for.
Harry Potter's essay.
Quickly and without thought or reading the work he dipped the quill in the ink, holding the quill only centimeters from the parachment. Drops of the ink dripped onto the parchement before he quickly wrote something on the top of the essay.
As Snape waited for the red ink to dry on the T which now adorned the top of the parchment, Snape refelected on this, one of the two things that hurst him most, having his own son, so close to him, yet so far, unable to touch him, communicate with him in a civil manner, be his father.
The red ink now dry, Snape rolled the parchment back up starting another pile of marked essays as one question raced through his mind, no answer coming to him, no matter how hard he thought about it. What had gone so wrong?
A/N-Okay what do you think? I had this sudden inspiration and I just started writing it and this is what it turned out as. I did post it before but really short, and I decided to change to a diffrent ff account name, anyway I hoped you like it an please give me feedback of your thoughts on it, I'd really like to know your thoughts on it. Thanks
aspyundercover
Anything not recognized from the Harry Potter Series which includes Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Harry Potter and the Order of the Pheonix, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, and Quidditch Through the Ages, is therefor owned by I, Unless otherwise stated. Please do not reproduce anything it owned by I unless you have sought proir written consent from I.
Professor Snape glanced around the potions storeroom which connected to his office attempting in vain to remeber what he had gone in there for. Leaving the storeroom mumbling about something, in a tone so low, if anybody had been listening in they would have only caught a few words. But one word, one word seemed to dominate in the amount of it's use. It seemed to be used much, much more than any other word being said. It was obviously the topic of whatever he was mumbling on about. Potter.
Returning to his desk, he noticed it piled high with papers, essays no dobut. Pulling himself back to reality and away from his mumblings he half considered, giving the students less homework, after all it would mean he also would have less work. But as soon as the idea came to him he brushed it away, unwilling to even consider it a second longer.
Taking an essay from the top of a pile, Snape read the name out aloud from the top of the parachment "Lavander Brown" before dropping the parachment back onto his desk.
Relizing what class' essays these where Snape shook his head his mind in an instant jumping to the first thing he though of whenever he was reminded of this class. Harry Potter. Trying to fight off the memory that came racing back whenever he though of him, Snape leaned back in his chair eventually surrenduring to the memory and allowing them to flow, as every single small detail zipped into it's rightful sequence. ~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~ He bumped into that girl and she was absolutly perfect. He was in his seventh year and while heading up to his common room he bumped into her. Her perfect red hair, her perfect eyes and how could he ever forget, her perfect smile, she'd dazzled him, to him it felt as if someone had placed a spell on him, a spell he knew in the instant their eyes met, a spell he never wanted lifted. At the time he vaguely rembered seing her around the castle a few times, and he silently cursed at himself for being too wrapped up in his own activities, to really care about anybody but himself and his friends
And it was during this very instant he knew that the spell was love. Not a love spell nor potion but the real and true thing, he couldn't explain to himself at that moment or even years later how he came to this conclusion, but he knew beyond a resonable dobut that it was the right one.
From that moment on he spent all his free time around her, with her. She was the first thing he thought about when he woke up and the last thing he thought about before drifting off to sleep. And then as the year was drawing to a close, and they had just graduated from Hogwarts only moments earlier. However it had felt like an eternity, after the eternity had finished, which in reality was a few short minutes, he proposed. In front of everyone. His parents, her parents, their whole year and all their parents and not to mention the many other onlookers which included Ministry of Magic representatives, reporters, and not their old Professors. And not even a second passed after the last words left his mouth before her reply came in a slightly louder tone, which managed to hold the feelings of excitment, joy, happiness, surprise, shock and of course love in it.
A year or so went by, or perhaps even two or three, he couldn't keep track spending a day with her only felt like a few seconds, passing at lightning speed, before they had a son, their first son, their only son. Their son. And oh how perfect he was in everyway, a bright boy, always inquisitive, always exploring, always ready to play.
Then before he knew it the perfect life that he once had with his wife and son, was ripped from him, they where ripped apart, their once happy family life oblitirated before his eyes ~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~&~ Snape lifted up his cup, his gaze fixated on the thing that was keeping him alive and relitively close to his son, before taking a long drink from it, downing the whole thing the first go. As soon as the liquid hit his tastebuds a discusted expression spread quickly across his face. "That polyjuice potion never gets any better does it?" He asked to himself out aloud. Replacing the now empty cup on the edge of his desk. Absent mindedly he picked up his quill, not intending to do anything in particular, aside from twirl it between his fingers before he noticed a bottle of red ink which he had uncorked previously to mark the pile of essays still sitting on his desk. Remebering what class the essays had originated from he dug through the pile before extracting the one which he was so obviously look for.
Harry Potter's essay.
Quickly and without thought or reading the work he dipped the quill in the ink, holding the quill only centimeters from the parachment. Drops of the ink dripped onto the parchement before he quickly wrote something on the top of the essay.
As Snape waited for the red ink to dry on the T which now adorned the top of the parchment, Snape refelected on this, one of the two things that hurst him most, having his own son, so close to him, yet so far, unable to touch him, communicate with him in a civil manner, be his father.
The red ink now dry, Snape rolled the parchment back up starting another pile of marked essays as one question raced through his mind, no answer coming to him, no matter how hard he thought about it. What had gone so wrong?
A/N-Okay what do you think? I had this sudden inspiration and I just started writing it and this is what it turned out as. I did post it before but really short, and I decided to change to a diffrent ff account name, anyway I hoped you like it an please give me feedback of your thoughts on it, I'd really like to know your thoughts on it. Thanks
aspyundercover