A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed the story so far. I finally decided to upload the third chapter that I had written from ages ago, though I added a little bit to it to make it a little longer. I'm not sure how it turned out, though, so I apologize in advance if it sucks. lol
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By: FaithInSnape
After placing his mother's boxed-up belongings in a safe place in his closet, Severus Snape sat down wearily in his favorite chair in the corner of his living area. His eyes were immediately drawn to the small box sitting on the table to his right. He had almost placed the box in the closet along with the others, but something prevented him from doing so. Severus had a feeling that there was something in this box that he needed to see. It was almost as if the box had been calling out to him. Except for the fact that boxes don't talk. But then again, in the wizarding world, anything is possible. No, he was certain that this box had definitely not been talking to him in the literal sense.
Now doubting his own sanity, Snape leaned his head back on his chair and closed his eyes. He couldn't understand why one tiny box, one that looked rather ordinary, was peaking his curiosity so. He knew the old saying, 'curiosity killed the cat,' and knew it to be quite true (who could forget that rather unfortunate incident involving a cat-animagi and a muggle automobile?), yet he still couldn't take his mind off of the mysterious box.
Opening his eyes once more, Snape glanced around at his humble home. To some, this small, dark residence would seem rather dreary, but to Severus Snape, this was the way he liked it. He had never been one for extravagance. Big, fancy homes with lavish furnishings had never appealed to him. In his opinion, people who were overly showy in their belongings were obviously compensating for a lack of something, be it brains, talents, or something more personal.
Severus Snape was not lacking in any respect and therefore felt no need to flaunt his talent or wealth, not that he had any wealth. The meager teacher's salary he earned from spending his days teaching those lazy dunderheads, known as his students, barely kept him in decent robes. But he did have talent and lots of it. Even during his own days as a Hogwarts student, his talents for potions were evident, so there was no need for him to flaunt them.
Again, Snape's eyes wandered over to the small box. It couldn't be much larger than a ring box, so what could possibly be in it that was of any importance? His mother didn't own any jewelry, none that he knew of, anyway. Perhaps he should just open the box and get it over with, solve the great mystery of 'the box.' For some reason, he felt he wasn't ready to do that yet.
Severus stood up and walked to the bathroom. He examined his own loathsome reflection for a few seconds before splashing his face with a handful of ice cold water. He was going to go insane if he didn't open that damned box soon.
Striding over to the table, determined to get this over with, he picked up the small box and promptly lifted the lid. The box was practically empty except for what appeared to be a folded sheet of parchment. Feeling somewhat disappointed that he had been so tense for nothing, Severus lifted the parchment from the box and began to unfold it.
Severus Snape had never seen such a horrible attempt at drawing before. The lines were horribly crooked, the colors were all wrong, and it looked as if it had been drawn by a child. 'A child who was obviously not destined for a career in art,' he thought. The drawing was simply of two scribbles that could possibly represent two dark-haired humans, holding hands.
There was nothing exceptional about this drawing. And for all he knew, he himself had been the artist. He had never had a steady hand, even his handwriting was, and still is, tiny and cramped. Perhaps his mother had found this drawing and decided to keep it for sentimental reasons? But why would she have hidden it away in the back of her closet? What was so special about this drawing?
Snape started to dispose of it when he noticed a small scribble of words along the bottom of the parchment. The script was very similar to his own, but yet somehow different. He had to squint his eyes to make out the words, but the moment Severus realized what the tiny writing said, his breath caught: Sera Snape.
As Snape read the name to himself over and over, he struggled against the flood of thoughts that were starting to engulf him. Thoughts he hadn't entertained in decades. A few of them made him want to smile, but most of the thoughts that accompanied that name had the opposite effect. They made him want to throw something across the room. Or, even worse, resume his old activies. But he had made promises to people that he wouldn't go back on. No matter how overwhelming the craving was.
Knowing that he needed to calm himself down before he ended up doing something he would eventually regret, Snape walked back over to his chair and sat down, the parchment still clutched tightly in his hand. Though even the familiarity of his chair failed to relax him this time, as he sat hunched forward, his elbows on his knees and one fist posed beneath his chin and struggled to block out all of the dark visions that name was bringing to his mind. Her name. The girl who had been the bane of his childhood.
Snape was sure that the memory of that girl would be the death of him, unless he did something about it. But who did he have to talk to? Who would care about the distressing memories of the acid tongued Potionsmaster? No one. But even so, he knew that if he didn't talk to someone, he would surely go insane by daybreak. With that thought in mind, he quickly stood up and headed for the door, leaving the small drawing lying on the floor behind him.
