Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in this story. They are J.K.
Rowling's and I am merely borrowing them for the fun of creating a story.
Learn to know the Moon
1 Home
Crack. When the toast jumped out the man with the gaunt face and shoulderlength black hair, who had just finished eating his cereal, pushed away the empty bowl and reached over absentmindedly without looking up from his newspaper to take the roasted slice out. He only put the paper down for a second to butter the toast, but didn't avert his eyes from his reading for this task, then picked the paper up again. After he had finished the toast and drowned the rest of his tea, he checked his watch, sighed and finally put the paper down on the table. He would be late. As if it mattered. He snorted. The Ministry house elves were quite capable of working without his supervision, they were probably even better off without him standing in the way.
He decided to do the washing up tonight after work and stood up from the table to leave the kitchen. When he reached the door, he paused at the calender which hung close to the door frame. Today was October the 30th. A date he didn't like to be reminded of. Three years it had been since it had happened. Three years ago he was forced to abandon his former life, a life he had hated on the one hand, but on the other hand, was also missing terribly. Down from the nail which was holding the calender hung in a somewhat careless manner a metallic ornated object on a silver coloured ribbon which was one of the few things he allowed to have around him as a reminiscence to his former life. It bore the words 'Order of Merlin. First Class'. He reached out with his long elegant fingers to touch it but stopped halfway. He turned apruptly, went out of the kitchen, took his winter cloak from the peg in the corridor, put it on and went out of the door of his flat. Just in time, he stopped himself from slamming it. He wasn't supposed to slam doors in this house. This was a 'friendly caring neighbourhood', as they had told him when he had moved in. If he started slamming doors, somebody would probably turn up to ask him if anything was wrong. Last time he had slammed doors in his flat, and that had happened quite often during the first time after he had moved in, the kind old lady from above, Mrs. Perkins, had visited him one evening and asked if he needed any help or wanted to talk. She had looked at him with a very worried expression as if she was thinking he was planning to commit suicide any minute. No, he didn't want to upset these friendly people. And he definitely didn't want to give the Ministry any wrong ideas about him, as that would only give them a reason to bother him with more social workers' visits or 'integrate into muggle society' programmes. That was the reason which caused him to close the door to his flat, which bore the name 'S. Snape' on the nameplate, carefully.
Severus Snape was proceeding swiftly down the stairs when Mrs. Forrester and her two children, a six year old boy named Philipp and her nine year old daughter Fiona peeked out of their door.
'Good morning, Mr. Snape. That's quite fortunate to see you. You won't forget that we will have our house Halloween party tomorrow night? You are coming, aren't you?'
'Good morning. Uhm. No, I won't forget. I'll come. I'll contribute a salad, if you don't mind,' he answered in the most polite tone he could muster.
'Splendid, you'll see you'll like it,' Mrs. Forrester answered enthusiastically.
Severus only nodded and wanted to turn to get on his way again when the boy suddenly asked 'And as what are you coming?'
'As what?' he asked back, bearing a confused expression on his face. What was it now he was supposed to know about muggle customs ?
'Your costume, of course. You know, I guess you could dress up as a vampire.'
'Phillip,' Mrs. Forrester said disapprovingly, 'I am sorry, Mr. Snape. To appear in costume is not compulsory for adults, but some do. We think it's a lot of fun, makes things a lot less formal, you know,' she laughed nervously.
Yes, of course, muggle Halloween parties. He had heard about that in one of his 'integrating classes' at the Ministry. Muggles, mostly children and young people, but sometimes also adults dressed up as ghosts, vampires, pumpkins and ... 'I see. I think I will come as a wizard then,' Severus said before it occured to him that this would be a rather bold thing for him to do.
'Cool,' Philipp said impressed. 'You've got a wizard's costume for adults, with hat, wand and all ? You don't look the type going on these parties, you know.'
'I don't, actually. It's an old family costume,' Severus said quickly. 'Excuse me, I have to go to work now. See you tomorrow then.'
While he walked down the stairs to the entrance door he wondered what he had been thinking. Him, of all people, dressing up as a wizard at a muggle party. Things were definitely going downhill with him. Although, he continued his musings while he was walking in the direction of the next underground station, maybe it wasn't all that bad. The muggles didn't know that he was a wizard. They didn't believe in magic and if it made things 'less formal' as Mrs. Forrester had said, he would dress in his old Potion Master's robes. He smiled inwardly. If they would only know that these robes were actually the most formal it could get. The wand could prove to be a problem, though.
Learn to know the Moon
1 Home
Crack. When the toast jumped out the man with the gaunt face and shoulderlength black hair, who had just finished eating his cereal, pushed away the empty bowl and reached over absentmindedly without looking up from his newspaper to take the roasted slice out. He only put the paper down for a second to butter the toast, but didn't avert his eyes from his reading for this task, then picked the paper up again. After he had finished the toast and drowned the rest of his tea, he checked his watch, sighed and finally put the paper down on the table. He would be late. As if it mattered. He snorted. The Ministry house elves were quite capable of working without his supervision, they were probably even better off without him standing in the way.
He decided to do the washing up tonight after work and stood up from the table to leave the kitchen. When he reached the door, he paused at the calender which hung close to the door frame. Today was October the 30th. A date he didn't like to be reminded of. Three years it had been since it had happened. Three years ago he was forced to abandon his former life, a life he had hated on the one hand, but on the other hand, was also missing terribly. Down from the nail which was holding the calender hung in a somewhat careless manner a metallic ornated object on a silver coloured ribbon which was one of the few things he allowed to have around him as a reminiscence to his former life. It bore the words 'Order of Merlin. First Class'. He reached out with his long elegant fingers to touch it but stopped halfway. He turned apruptly, went out of the kitchen, took his winter cloak from the peg in the corridor, put it on and went out of the door of his flat. Just in time, he stopped himself from slamming it. He wasn't supposed to slam doors in this house. This was a 'friendly caring neighbourhood', as they had told him when he had moved in. If he started slamming doors, somebody would probably turn up to ask him if anything was wrong. Last time he had slammed doors in his flat, and that had happened quite often during the first time after he had moved in, the kind old lady from above, Mrs. Perkins, had visited him one evening and asked if he needed any help or wanted to talk. She had looked at him with a very worried expression as if she was thinking he was planning to commit suicide any minute. No, he didn't want to upset these friendly people. And he definitely didn't want to give the Ministry any wrong ideas about him, as that would only give them a reason to bother him with more social workers' visits or 'integrate into muggle society' programmes. That was the reason which caused him to close the door to his flat, which bore the name 'S. Snape' on the nameplate, carefully.
Severus Snape was proceeding swiftly down the stairs when Mrs. Forrester and her two children, a six year old boy named Philipp and her nine year old daughter Fiona peeked out of their door.
'Good morning, Mr. Snape. That's quite fortunate to see you. You won't forget that we will have our house Halloween party tomorrow night? You are coming, aren't you?'
'Good morning. Uhm. No, I won't forget. I'll come. I'll contribute a salad, if you don't mind,' he answered in the most polite tone he could muster.
'Splendid, you'll see you'll like it,' Mrs. Forrester answered enthusiastically.
Severus only nodded and wanted to turn to get on his way again when the boy suddenly asked 'And as what are you coming?'
'As what?' he asked back, bearing a confused expression on his face. What was it now he was supposed to know about muggle customs ?
'Your costume, of course. You know, I guess you could dress up as a vampire.'
'Phillip,' Mrs. Forrester said disapprovingly, 'I am sorry, Mr. Snape. To appear in costume is not compulsory for adults, but some do. We think it's a lot of fun, makes things a lot less formal, you know,' she laughed nervously.
Yes, of course, muggle Halloween parties. He had heard about that in one of his 'integrating classes' at the Ministry. Muggles, mostly children and young people, but sometimes also adults dressed up as ghosts, vampires, pumpkins and ... 'I see. I think I will come as a wizard then,' Severus said before it occured to him that this would be a rather bold thing for him to do.
'Cool,' Philipp said impressed. 'You've got a wizard's costume for adults, with hat, wand and all ? You don't look the type going on these parties, you know.'
'I don't, actually. It's an old family costume,' Severus said quickly. 'Excuse me, I have to go to work now. See you tomorrow then.'
While he walked down the stairs to the entrance door he wondered what he had been thinking. Him, of all people, dressing up as a wizard at a muggle party. Things were definitely going downhill with him. Although, he continued his musings while he was walking in the direction of the next underground station, maybe it wasn't all that bad. The muggles didn't know that he was a wizard. They didn't believe in magic and if it made things 'less formal' as Mrs. Forrester had said, he would dress in his old Potion Master's robes. He smiled inwardly. If they would only know that these robes were actually the most formal it could get. The wand could prove to be a problem, though.