Hey everyone, this is another oneshot entry in response to several challenges on HPFC.

This is mainly a character study, and the details are listed at the end of this fic. Hope you all like it…


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His mark flared up again. It usually did at the most inconvenient times, but he was still required to answer. The Dark Lord did not appreciate excuses, and Severus Snape was not stupid enough to even attempt to test how far that tolerance went, although he was sure that it would be practically nonexistent. He also rather liked having his sanity intact and, unlike Bellatrix, he didn't think that pain was a particularly good thing.

He scowled, gathering his unfinished work comprising mostly of unmarked student essays of various grade levels, and placed the lot of them off to the side of his desk. It was already cluttered enough as it had been earlier that evening, without having to worry about all of the extra parchment he'd originally demanded his students hand in that afternoon. Maybe it was about time to ask for less; if he did that, though, those children may just find it to be an excuse to slack off even more than they already were.

Snape took one last glance at his office before leaving, locking the door behind him as he started his way out into the corridors of the bottom level of Hogwarts school. The worst part of living and teaching in this dismal area of the castle was that it became so dreadfully cold during the winter, not to mention the terrible smells that would waft around the stone walls immediately outside of his classroom during the summer. He paused, pulling his cloak tighter as a cold draft breezed past him, shivering slightly. He scowled at his lack of composure, and continued on.

He was lucky that day; at least The Dark Lord had not forced him to leave during the feast, or suddenly decide to call on him in the middle of one of his classes. Snape's master was rather merciful in that regard. He did not need his students and colleagues any more suspicious of him than they already were, although Potter was always giving him strange looks, as if he knew what was going on. It was impossible, of course. Potter was just an arrogant young fool, just like his father. Not entirely bright; it was basically what he could say for the rest of that boy's house as well… those Gryffindors.

Snape played his part well enough, he supposed. On the one hand, The Dark Lord commanded absolute loyalty and devotion, upon pain of death. The man was ruthless and provided no mercy for any of his followers if they even dared to cross him. Snape was lucky that he had managed to survive for as long as he had been. If his master knew what Snape had been doing, practically playing him for a fool, there would be no possible way to escape his Lord's wrath.

He also had to juggle his association with his colleague and boss, Albus Dumbledore, who had his own special agendas that he rarely shared with anyone. The man was far too secretive for anyone's good. It would seem as though he'd completed his tasks for the old man, when suddenly he'd be bombarded with some other strange things to do. They were usually difficult to obtain, especially since he was mostly called for highly critical information. Snape would sometimes find himself wondering how it was possible for him to access everything. The master's most loyal servants were shrewd, often calculating their moves five steps ahead of everyone. It was as if they were on a completely different level to anyone else.

There was also the Order of the Phoenix. Most of its members didn't exactly hold him in high regard, and were usually quite vocal in their opinions of him. It made matters worse when Black joined in; the man seemed to have it in for him, although it wasn't too hard to see why. They had been childhood enemies, and neither of them had really grown out of that phase, unlike Lupin, who seemed to have put that behind him somehow. Snape could never figure out why, though. Lupin had much more reason to hate him than Black did. Although, if it wasn't for him being a werewolf who nearly had him killed, Snape wouldn't even bother thinking about the other man. He seemed to be more level headed than his overly boisterous two friends when they were all at school, but it didn't forgive him for siding with the pair every time they chose to harass him in the hallways or on the grounds between classes.

Snape sighed quietly to himself as he navigated the halls around the dungeons. Most of the school's population was in their dorms, and the teaching staff were more than likely in their offices grading classwork from earlier that day. He dodged the annoying poltergeist, Peeves, who suddenly had the urge to throw a handful of dungbombs in his general direction. The ghost cackled as he floated through the wall into the next room. Snape paused and sneered after it; that creature was always such a nuisance, and he often wondered why Dumbledore allowed it to remain in the school. What made things worse was that it was likely that those Weasley twins supplied those bombs to him. The two boys were enough to give Snape a migraine, and if they somehow made an alliance with Peeves, there was certainly going to be more mayhem than what should be legally possible in the castle. Snape was certainly going to have a word with Minerva about those irresponsible hooligans later, after he returned from The Dark Lord's side.

Snape turned the corner at the top of the flight of stairs leading to the dungeons, nodding politely to the Bloody Baron as he floated past. The ghost returned the gesture before phasing through the floor. Snape continued along the corridors past the Great Hall and through the castle's front doors. He closed them behind him and made his way across the grounds, still lost in thought.

It still surprised him that he had been given a teaching position at the school. Snape wasn't particularly fond of children, and he made no attempt to hide the fact. As a consequence, he gained the reputation of being an overly foul professor to any student outside of Slytherin house. Snape made no move to change it, and for that, the majority of the teenage population hated him for it. If anything, it made his already precarious position a slight bit easier. The people who eventually found out about his allegiances - which were few and far between – would have no need to feel betrayed.

Most of his students had absolutely no aptitude for Potions at all. They clearly didn't understand the subtle concepts of the subject, and had no talent for it whatsoever. It was a shame, really. Potions was a fairly fascinating topic, and the many uses for it would most certainly come in handy later on in life. Hardly any student had been considered worthy to sit the NEWTS, and so most dreams were shattered. It wasn't his fault if they were all complete dunderheads who were utterly hopeless.

Snape shook his head, exasperated with himself for his strange trail of thoughts. The Dark Lord would find his mind far too easy if he let himself continue thinking as he had been. There would be no chance of redemption if his master was able to read his mind, and as a master Occlumens, it was also a matter of pride to have the ability to hold his master's mental probes at bay.

He passed the front gate leading to the school grounds. Snape stopped and glanced around him, in case anyone could notice his absence. Of course, the Headmaster already knew, he was certain of that. He never really understood how the man obtained some of his information. He seemed to know about things that Snape had only just heard of; but then, he just attributed it to the many mysteries surrounding Albus Dumbledore.

After ensuring that the coast was indeed clear, Snape took a few moments to compose himself. It was never a good thing to appear in The Dark Lord's presence displaying any emotion apart from cool detachment. Snape had seen enough terrible things befall those who didn't follow even that simple point of fact, and he'd really rather not experience it for himself. He finally spun on his heel and departed the area with a loud crack.

Overall, Snape wouldn't ever wish his predicament on his worst enemies. With two powerful wizards breathing down his neck on an almost daily basis, there was much risk involved in his position, assisting both sides of the war. Goodness knows what would happen if someone else had taken his job, and he shuddered at the thought of a person similar to Potter and his friends trying to stealthily obtain information the way he did. In the end, being a spy was far more trouble than it was worth, and Snape would greatly appreciate the time when no one needed his aid in such things anymore…


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There you have it.

This was an entry for several challenges/competitions on the HPFC forum:

CBlack19's Harry Potter Spells Competition: Langlock

Dancer4813's Gemstone Challenge/Competition: Emerald

HollyPotter28's Latin Challenge: Solus

Slytherin Cat's Weasley Wizard Wheezes Competition: Extendable Ears

Lil'MissChris' Harry Potter Potions Competition: Invisibility Potion

TrueBeliever831's Wand Wood Competition: Blackthorn

Total word count: 1516