Author's Note/Disclaimer: Don't own it. One sentence is shamelessly lifted from Book One. No kittens were harmed in the writing of these drabbles.
This is for the "Write a 100 or 500 word drabble where you character is thinking about the one they love/adore/admire" challenge at xoxLewrahxox's Bella forum.
After reading Book Seven, Severus Snape went from a character that I was very "meh" about to one of my favorite characters of all time. These drabbles aren't terribly cheerful, but neither it seems was his life. Anyway, let me know what you guys think. :)
One
He sees her across the playground just after noon, a pretty child in a sundress, taking turns on the swings with her sister. He resents them immediately, like he resents them all, for their new clothes, their rosy faces, their smiles, and their happiness.
He watches as she leans to pick up a fallen daisy, and he gasps as it blooms anew in her hand. Her sister notices as well, and quickly glances around before tugging on her arm. "Come on, Lily," she says. "It's time to go!"
Lily, he thinks as he watches them go. Her name is Lily.
Two
He muffles the door with all the old blankets and clothes he can find, but nothing will stop the sound of arguing wafting through the thin walls. He groans in frustration and crawls beneath the bed, clutching at his head, just willing it all to go away.
But it never will. It will only get worse.
So he thinks instead of the cool grass by the river, sunlight on the water, a twig spinning in the air, and Lily's infectious smile. He drifts slowly off to sleep, surrounded, protected by those thoughts. And just this once, he feels almost happy.
Three
The Slytherin dormitory is a maze of windowless rooms, dark and cramped despite its large size, and populated by students of varying degrees of unfriendliness. In a way, it almost reminds him of home.
He unpacks his meager belongings, still trying to get rid of that horrible, sinking feeling in his stomach as he watched his best and only friend sit down at the Gryffindor table.
He lies back and stares at the ceiling. To finally be here, in this place... Isn't this what he has wanted, even dreamed of, for years? So why does it feel so very disappointing?
Four
His quill dances across the parchment, gradually working out the theory behind a promising new spell, but his concentration is interrupted every few seconds by thoughts of Potter's smug face and his possibly fancying Lily...
Does he like Lily ...in that way too? He doesn't know, for love is a feeling all too alien to him. Instead, he is consumed by all too familiar rage and confusion with no outlet other than the one most obvious – Potter himself.
The theory is complete. It just needs a name.
He smiles to himself, thoughts of Potter still dancing in his head.
Sectumsempra.
Five
A few girls exiting the picture hole glare at him, but he ignores them, too preoccupied with the realization that this time, apologies and excuses will not be enough.
But why can't she see that unlike other students who blindly follow their books, I have the imagination to challenge those texts and the skill to overturn them? That where she glimpses only forbidden secrets, I behold endless possibilities? And that I have it in me to do absolute wonders, to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death?
Even my dimwit friends can see that. So why on earth can't she?
Six
The first step towards mastering Occlumency is to clear the mind of all thought and emotion...
That sounds simple enough. He shuts the book and closes his eyes.
A few minutes later, he opens them again, shaking and barely able to control himself. Simple enough, but how would he know that to strip himself bare of all the rage and confusion clouding his mind is to reveal what lies beneath?
He raises his wand and blasts every single fly on the ceiling, imagining each with Potter's face.
I love her. Damn it, I love her. And now it's too late...
Seven
"Still deciding?" asks Bellatrix as she sidles into the room. "I can't believe the fickleness of recruits nowadays. When I got the Mark, I was so proud I strung up three of Cissy's kittens to celebrate."
He looks up and says nothing. She would be beautiful by anyone's measure, but he feels no attraction.
"Mulciber wanted you to see this." She hands him the day's intel report. "Said you might find it amusing."
He takes it and notices that his friend has circled "Lily and James Potter are wed" with hearts.
He crumples the paper in his fist. "I'm ready."
Eight
"How important was Lily to you?"
Tired and desperate after enduring hours of Dumbledore's unflagging skepticism, he finally gives in and throws down all his defenses.
What would you have me say? That whenever I see her face, for a single indefinable instant, I too feel beautiful? That whenever I think of her, I feel a sense of dignity inside me, when I know that I have none?"
Those blue eyes slowly contemplate his own. "As long as the memory of her exists, then so does she. Perhaps you can still make her proud."
"I will," he replies.
I will.
Nine
He spots the boy immediately in a long line of first years waiting to be sorted, a picture-perfect replica of that other boy who had once taunted him on the train this very day, twenty years ago.
He looks nothing at all like Lily, he thinks, immensely relieved.
But Harry's turn soon comes, and he gets a better look.
He has Lily's eyes.
His hands shake as it slowly dawns on him that he will have to see Lily's eyes stare at him from that face, for the next seven revolting years.
Sweet Merlin, why does he have Lily's eyes?
Ten
The burning pain in his neck now courses through his veins, melting away years of accumulated grief, suffering, and regrets.
He feels a sense of relief, perhaps even joy, that it will very soon be all over...
But still, he feels as if something is left unfinished...
As long as the memory of her exists, then so does she...
The memories come flooding back, flooding out...
He can see sunlight on the water, a twig twirling in the air, red hair, and green eyes...
With his last strength, he grabs the boy and pulls him close.
"Look... Look at me."