There are two types of men: Those with a soul, and those without. Severus
Snape was the latter, though he was not known to actually admit it. The
man's diet consisted of pure guilt, self-loathing, and bitterness. It was
no wonder that so many people were hesitant to venture past the dark,
concrete exterior of his self.
No love had ever been able to venture into his life, though a few had fallen. He wouldn't get close to anyone at all, not even for friendship. It could've been that maybe he feared being teased, having been treated wrongly in his school years. But, no matter what, he always found a way to take out his anger on his students. He was an apple gone bad, the worst pea in the pod. Yet, somehow, the Slytherins found comfort in his temper and evil ways. Severus knew that they did, and used it to its full potential. But one day, the comfort went too far... .:Cue cheesy theme music:.
When Flint had first arrived, Severus had not thought about it much. It was a personal triumph, mostly, being that there was another Slytherin on the staff of Hogwarts. It was rather hilarious to him--Marcus Flint being on the staff, now an assistant to Madam Hooch.
Marcus wasn't the most intelligent man in the world and he certainly wasn't as gifted with broomsticks as Hooch, so Severus had no idea why Dumbledore took him into the fold. Of course, qualifications weren't much to the man-- all one had to do was look at the previous Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers. By mid-September, the Potions Master of Hogwarts was beginning to be slightly irked by the new 'Professor,' if one could even call him that. He seemed to be infringing on the rights of the Slytherin Head of House; giving detentions as fast as he could utter the words, taking large amounts of points from the rival houses, being a bastard, so to speak. It was bad enough that the boy (Severus had taken to mentally referring to Flint as a boy) was housed straight across from his own quarters but, now he was beginning to take away his authority.
Marcus hadn't thought about being on the staff as a great achievement at first. Severus got on his nerves as much as the Potter boy did. But Marcus had to deal with this, wanting to get a good reputation with the fellow professors. Flint had been on the Quidditch team during his years at Hogwarts as a student. He knew enough about flying, or so he thought. Hooch had been rather pleased to see that at least one of the students had decided to return for a job there. He found Severus rather scary at times and hated the man's temper. No, not hated....loathed.
It was on a fine day in the first week of October that Severus decided to speak his mind to Flint. He sought him out in the entrance hall, not really caring if anyone saw him or not. He grabbed the boy by the arm and slammed him against a stone pillar with more force than one would expect from a Professor, let alone Snape.
"Let it be known, Flint," he hissed with more than his usual dose of venom, "That you are 'not' the Head of Slytherin house!"
Marcus gasped, being slammed against the pillar. His head hit with such force, that his brain rattled and his head throbbed with pain.
"I never said that I was the Head of Slytherin..." Marcus replied in a voice that showed his breath had also been knocked out of him. "I'd never try to take your place, Professor." He whispered, trying not to faint.
Severus glared at him and, though tempted to knock those disgusting teeth out of Flint's mouth, turned on his heel. His cloak flowed behind him in a trail as he exited the entrance hall, aiming to go to a pub in Hogsmeade for a relaxing drink. Before he reached the door, however, he turned sharply around, yelling to a few students, "WHAT 'ARE' YOU LOOKING AT?"
The students looked rather innocently at him, their hands behind their backs. The only thing that was missing from the picture were halos that should've been positioned above their heads. "We were just trying to figure out why so many people hate you. You're a rather handsome older man." A girl with short blonde hair said, smiling flirtatiously. A rather short boy arched an eyebrow. "Actually, we were looking at your hair. Do you use grease or oil? Or are you a Dapper Dan Man?"
With a glare that could kill all life within a ten-mile radius, Severus left the hall with a loud "HMPH!" Stares followed him all the way to the Three Broomsticks.
A waitress, rather pretty in her dark features, wandered over to him as he entered. She walked him over to a table, making him sit down. "The usual, Severus?" She asked in a sickeningly sweet voice.
"Of course," he grumbled. He could sleep it off in the morning. Of course, that's exactly what he did.
No love had ever been able to venture into his life, though a few had fallen. He wouldn't get close to anyone at all, not even for friendship. It could've been that maybe he feared being teased, having been treated wrongly in his school years. But, no matter what, he always found a way to take out his anger on his students. He was an apple gone bad, the worst pea in the pod. Yet, somehow, the Slytherins found comfort in his temper and evil ways. Severus knew that they did, and used it to its full potential. But one day, the comfort went too far... .:Cue cheesy theme music:.
When Flint had first arrived, Severus had not thought about it much. It was a personal triumph, mostly, being that there was another Slytherin on the staff of Hogwarts. It was rather hilarious to him--Marcus Flint being on the staff, now an assistant to Madam Hooch.
Marcus wasn't the most intelligent man in the world and he certainly wasn't as gifted with broomsticks as Hooch, so Severus had no idea why Dumbledore took him into the fold. Of course, qualifications weren't much to the man-- all one had to do was look at the previous Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers. By mid-September, the Potions Master of Hogwarts was beginning to be slightly irked by the new 'Professor,' if one could even call him that. He seemed to be infringing on the rights of the Slytherin Head of House; giving detentions as fast as he could utter the words, taking large amounts of points from the rival houses, being a bastard, so to speak. It was bad enough that the boy (Severus had taken to mentally referring to Flint as a boy) was housed straight across from his own quarters but, now he was beginning to take away his authority.
Marcus hadn't thought about being on the staff as a great achievement at first. Severus got on his nerves as much as the Potter boy did. But Marcus had to deal with this, wanting to get a good reputation with the fellow professors. Flint had been on the Quidditch team during his years at Hogwarts as a student. He knew enough about flying, or so he thought. Hooch had been rather pleased to see that at least one of the students had decided to return for a job there. He found Severus rather scary at times and hated the man's temper. No, not hated....loathed.
It was on a fine day in the first week of October that Severus decided to speak his mind to Flint. He sought him out in the entrance hall, not really caring if anyone saw him or not. He grabbed the boy by the arm and slammed him against a stone pillar with more force than one would expect from a Professor, let alone Snape.
"Let it be known, Flint," he hissed with more than his usual dose of venom, "That you are 'not' the Head of Slytherin house!"
Marcus gasped, being slammed against the pillar. His head hit with such force, that his brain rattled and his head throbbed with pain.
"I never said that I was the Head of Slytherin..." Marcus replied in a voice that showed his breath had also been knocked out of him. "I'd never try to take your place, Professor." He whispered, trying not to faint.
Severus glared at him and, though tempted to knock those disgusting teeth out of Flint's mouth, turned on his heel. His cloak flowed behind him in a trail as he exited the entrance hall, aiming to go to a pub in Hogsmeade for a relaxing drink. Before he reached the door, however, he turned sharply around, yelling to a few students, "WHAT 'ARE' YOU LOOKING AT?"
The students looked rather innocently at him, their hands behind their backs. The only thing that was missing from the picture were halos that should've been positioned above their heads. "We were just trying to figure out why so many people hate you. You're a rather handsome older man." A girl with short blonde hair said, smiling flirtatiously. A rather short boy arched an eyebrow. "Actually, we were looking at your hair. Do you use grease or oil? Or are you a Dapper Dan Man?"
With a glare that could kill all life within a ten-mile radius, Severus left the hall with a loud "HMPH!" Stares followed him all the way to the Three Broomsticks.
A waitress, rather pretty in her dark features, wandered over to him as he entered. She walked him over to a table, making him sit down. "The usual, Severus?" She asked in a sickeningly sweet voice.
"Of course," he grumbled. He could sleep it off in the morning. Of course, that's exactly what he did.