Snapes story
Chapter 1 - No roses for Snape
The potions master at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, Severus Snape, sat in his study one evening wondering about a boy. In fact it was not just any boy that possessed his thoughts at the moment. It was none other than Harry Potter. It was the middle of August and in a few weeks al the students would return to school with al the hustle and bustle it created. Snape was not at pleased with this, in fact he liked the school best when it was quite and empty. He had returned some days earlier than he had first planned and he was happy that he had. He never felt more at home than he did at Hogwarts and having it almost entirely to himself was very satisfying.
Snape sad in a comfortable chair near a window facing the grounds. In the growing darkness, it was close to ten at night, he could just make out the forbidden forest and the oaf Hagrid's hut. Snape couldn't get his mind of Harry Potter, who would soon return to the school to attend his sixth year. His mind was full of the image of Harry as he had last seen him, hurt, distressed and deeply affected by the death of his godfather. Snape somehow felt that he was to blame for Harry's misery and this feeling of guilty conscience was not something Snape was used to, but he couldn't stop thinking that if he had trained Harry properly in occlumency al this would never have happened. Snape couldn't honestly feel that he was sorry for the death of Black, whom he had always resented, but still. Black had been a valuable order-member whatever Snape had expressed towards Black himself, he could not deny the truth of this and Dumbledore's remark that perhaps now he could get some proper unity in the order had hurt him, especially because he knew that it was meant for him and rightly meant as well.
The image of Harry popped up in Snape's mind again and drew his thoughts away from the order. Snape hated that he kept thinking of Harry. He hated having to be near the boy or more correctly said, the young man. Having to sit in the dining hall close to him was a total agony and Snape was so happy that he was not going to have him in his class this year. Every year since Harry had started at Hogwarts, Snape had had to teach him but this year things would change for the better, and he would not have to be around him on a daily basis. This was due to Snape's principle of never letting anyone into his NEWT class unless they had got and outstanding OWL in potions, which Harry of course hadn't got. Finally this stubbornness from his side paid of – usually this just meant that he only had 6-7 students in his class which of course was nice, but finally there came something truly god out of it.
As Snape sat happily anticipation not having to teach Potter, he wondered why he loathed the young man so much. Professor Dumbledore had on several occasions asked him the same question that was now occupying his mind, why didn't he like Harry Potter? It wasn't because of his prior attachment to the Dark Lord, that much he was sure of. In reality Snape knew the answer very well and had known it for a long time, but he did not want to admit it to himself. Dumbledore had asked him whether it was because of Harry father, James Potter, and truthfully Snape had answered "yes", but indeed Dumbledore did not know the full meaning of this reply. He merely thought that their mutual enmity, which had been well known in their schooldays, was the course for Snapes dislike of Harry, but this was not true. Snape had to admit this fact to himself even though he did not like it.
Suddenly Snape rose from his chair. These thoughts were not at al pleasant to him. He paced up and down the study, his body was stiff and he wished very much to think of something else, but he was unable to. He couldn't get rid of the image of Harry Potter's dark hair, his green eyes, his lean body and his bright smile, which he luckily never looked at Snape with. As every day went by Snape felt that Harry looked more and more like his father. Shivers went down the potions master's body. Why did Harry have to look so much like James? Snape was almost convinced that if Harry had only looked like his mother, things would have been easier.
Although Snape was tired he knew, that in his present state, he wouldn't be able to find any rest. He briefly considered making himself a sleeping potion, but knew that if he drank something to make him sleep he would dream of Harry. He had to get the boy out of his thoughts first. But how? His first notion was to use the pensive, but he knew that he couldn't stand what it would show him. Then he thought about seeing Dumbledore, but couldn't at this moment endure even the thought of Dumbledore's penetration eyes. He knew he would want to tell Albus what was on his mind, but that would involve revealing a secret that he had kept hidden almost al his life. And after al, Albus was not only a friend, but also his superior and what would happen if he knew the truth about... about who he truly was?
Instead of going to Dumbledore he decided to take a long comforting shower. Snape had a perfectly nice bathroom in his private chambers, but he felt he needed a good swim. The teachers had a gigantic bathtub almost as big as a muggle swimming pool. It was not unlike the one in the prefects' bathroom he had used in his schooldays, but it was bigger and he would be able to swim properly.
He left his room. He was glad the he no longer lived in the dungeons. At the end of last year he had requested to get lodgings above ground, so that only his office would be below and Dumbledore had granted him this. Snape now had a large bedroom, with an adjoining study and a bathroom on the fifth floor. Because he now lived there he only had to walk down a couple of corridors before he came to the teachers' bathroom. The entrance was hidden behind a picture showing the lake with the giant squid floating happily around the surface. To get in he had to touch the squid's tentacles, it would then disappear from the picture and the door would open. As he stepped inside Snape took in the scent of cleanness that lingered about the large room. He was happy that it didn't smell of roses as it always did when Minerva had been in there. Snape went to the large pools edge, bent down and turned on the taps. In about ten minutes time the pool would be filled with water. In the meantime he took of his clothes. First he took of his black cloak, folding it carefully so it would not crease then he removed his robes, laying them on a bench that stood in the room for exactly that purpose. Last he removed his undergarments and stood fully naked. His white skin looked almost exactly like the white marble on the floor and walls. He thought to himself that perhaps he needed to spend a bit more time outdoors – he looked as pale as a vampire, but then again there was really no point. The paleness of his skin didn't annoy him and after all he was the only one that saw his naked body.
Finally the pool was filled and Snape stepped in. What a wonderful feeling. The water was neither hot nor cool but a nice mixture that just matched his body temperature. Snape swam up and down the enormous tub. He swan and pressed himself to swim even faster, he wanted to exhaust his body so that he perhaps could get some sleep. After nearly three quarters of an hour the muscles in Snapes right leg began cramping and he had to stop swimming. He got slowly out of the pool trying not to put to much weight on his leg. He griped a towel and wrapped it around his body and limped over to the bench where his clothes lay and sat down. His leg hurt badly, but he knew that it would be over soon. Snape leaned against the wall waiting for his muscles to relax. Finally they did and he got up and dressed. His long dark hair was still wet and it hung down his back soaking his cloak. He took out his wand and said a drying spell and two seconds later his hair was no longer wet.
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