A crocked nosed, adolescent boy lies on his bed. His black, greasy hair, grown past his chin drapes over his grey, stained, flat pillow. His sunken, black eyes on his pale, hollow face, stare, with intense concentration at the yellow, cracking ceiling above him. He is deathly thin and wears torn, musty, black robes. He appears to be shooting the ceiling with a long, dark wooden wand. He struggles to keep his long, bony fingers still as he sends sparks flying above him. His face shows no reaction or emotion with regard to whatever he is trying to do. The room around him is large and empty yet dark and seemingly un-kept. The small window above his bed is obscured with dirt and cobwebs. In the opposite corner sits a cauldron, about the same size as a wash hand basin, with bottles and packets of ingredients stored inside. Beside the cauldron sits a pile of books, which reach the same height at the adjacent desk. Upon the old, rotted desk sits more books, some open, with scrolls of parchment scattered, occupying the remaining space and an abandoned, tired looking quill resting on top.
PING.
A fat, black fly drops onto the boy's chest.
Another one. Eight in a row, a new record. It's my lucky day.
What am I doing you ask? Well seeing as I have some free time on my hands, I may be inclined to tell you. But don't make a habit of asking me questions, Severus Snape is a steel trap and for good reasons too, you would do well to remember that.
Well it would appear that I am partaking in one of my traditional summer activities. You see, at the beginning of the summer I am usually quite appalling, this is why there are so many scorch marks on the ceiling, but as the weeks drag on, my hand becomes steadier and my aim becomes more precise. Any fly that dares enter this room shall not leave- make no mistake. However, I regret to say that next week the fun has to stop. It's back to school, how delightful.
Why do you seem so confused? Ah, apparently you are not quite in tune with my deep sarcasm. Very few are. My wit generally exceeds that of my peers, so I would not expect you to be any different. You could say that it sets me apart from the crowd, a cut above the rest I like to think.
Who am I kidding? Certainly not you due the fact that you don't even exist. You are lucky. The fact that I do seems to be my main problem.
If you were a real person, you would probably think the same as the rest, the likes of Sirius Black and James Potter, that I'm a greasy, snivelling, lonesome freak. Like them, you would probably only notice me if you got bored and felt the need to provide some entertainment for the rest of the student body.
Wait a second, I have never indulged in self-pity and I don't plan on starting now. One of the first signs of weakness, but one day, just you wait and see, that lot will regret the day that they looked the wrong way at Severus Snape. I'll have my glory.
Anyway, school isn't all that bad - compared to this hellhole. I'll be taking my O.W.Ls this year, this will be my chance to make the rest of them look like idiots, I have been studying for Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts all summer. Whilst that lot have been knocking each other off of their broomsticks, I have been working towards becoming one of the greatest wizards Hogwarts has ever seen.
And then there is Lily. Lily Evans, the most beautiful creature I have ever had the pleasure of knowing and without a doubt the best thing about Hogwarts. The fact that we share an aptitude for potions as well as an apparent dislike for James Potter are admiral bonuses. Of course I never actually speak to her. On occasion she will try and make conversation in Potions but that never ends well, usually with Black and Potter in fits of laughter followed by weeks of endless ridicule based on my tendency to shrivel into a fit of stutters and stammers whenever she so much as smiles at me. I think that she may actually have given up her attempts to be friendly in order to get Black and Potter off of my case. I hate the fact that she feels sorry for me; I would prefer if she hated me.
In fact, do you know what? This is going to be the year. It's going to be the year that I speak to Lily as any normal person would, and it's going to be the year that Black and Potter get what's coming to them.
I'll see you in Hogwarts.