Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owes everything and we own nothing...yada yada yada, you all know.
Severus Snape is pacing up and down the corridors of his dark, dusty, dank dungeon lair. His long, billowing, black robes shroud him in a cloud of mystery as he broods angrily over years past, his emotions stewing like a polyjuice potion in Myrtle's bathroom. On this afternoon, like every afternoon, he is overcome with an intense feeling of desolation and angst.
Why am I so misunderstood? Even after I stared Voldemort and all his followers down in the eye and said 'I hate you all and have been loyal to Dumbledore for years' and killed them all with one single spell, which Potter took credit for, just like his father would have. Even after all of that, everyone still hates me.
Snape turns a corner and finds every single first year of Hogwarts marching to some sort of required convention. Snape turns his head towards them and opens his mouth to present them all with a horrifying death glare and the accompanied violent hissing noise. "Salazar Slytherin wishes you a painful death you fucking mudbloods. HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS." All of the first years burst into fitful tears and sprint as fast as they can out the nearest exit.
Snape returns his attention back to his previous thoughts. I just don't understand! Why am I so alone? What have I done to deserve this treatment?
Severus Snape continues to pace down the corridor and turns another corner, where he finds his mentor and savior Albus Dumbledore. "Severus m'boy, did you just frighten all those first years?"
"Yes master," Severus replied.
Dumbledore heaves a huge sigh of knowing and understanding. "Oh Severus, perhaps all of this anger and tension wouldn't be so apparent if you had a lady friend…someone to court."
Severus notices that the old man has a twinkle in his eye. It seems to grow in illumination and he finds it increasingly difficult to look him straight in the eye without being blinded.
Severus pulls a pad of paper out from an inner pocket of his robe and begins to read: "Headmaster, you know I have no intention of 'courting', 'dating', 'playing footsie', 'massaging', 'hand-holding', 'cheek pecks', 'kissing', 'making out', 'hooking up', 'stroking', 'heavy petting', 'conjugating', 'engaging in intimate relations', 'foreplay', 'penetration', 'fucking', 'sex', 'intercourse', or emotional involvement of any kind." He shuts the notebook impressively and looks at the headmaster expectantly, waiting for a response.
Dumbledore heaves another knowing sigh. "Oh Severus, one day you'll find that special lady who you'll want to do all of the above with. Trust me, although I never found her."
McGonagall pops her head out from around the corner, a lone tear escaping out the corner of her eye. "Oh Albus," she whispers and turns and runs back down the corridor. Dumbledore takes no notice; his eyes simply seem to illuminate further.
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Hermione Granger was standing alone in the Astronomy Tower, looking up at the stars and thinking about her poor, poor, dead parents.
Oh papa! Oh mama! I feel like I never really got to know you after spending so many years and all of the breaks and holidays at Hogwarts, ignoring your every attempt to get to know me…simply becoming a complete stranger over the years as I integrated fully into the wizarding world… A world you could never understand, you poor, simple, dead dentists…killed only for being muggles.
Hermione begins to think of her regrets and realizes she should have gotten braces to please her father or that she should have written once in awhile to her mother.
Hermione pulls her hair out of a ponytail and lets it fall down to the small of her back. It wasn't so frizzy in the cool night air. She then unbuttons the front of her Hogwarts robe, as she is rather warm. She is wearing a thin, white silk tank top underneath them and her school skirt is pushed up to reveal a garter belt around her thigh.
As the freezing winter air pounds her exposed flesh, Severus walks by, gawking. The only response Severus can muster at the sight of Hermione's bizarre display is a loud, watery, "HISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS".
Severus stalks away, leaving Hermione's eyes fluttering. That bastard! He thinks he can walk by me in this state and hiss! I'm insane with dignified anger! Hermione zips herself back up in her robes and stalks away, her bushy hair flying, still fuming about Snape's lack of decorum.