Adjusting to life at Hogwarts had been, gently saying, easy. Severus was a quiet type as so perceived earlier. He buried his nose in his books, earned straight marks, and kept mostly to himself. Most of those even in his own House seemed to find him as important as, say, an ottoman, so he was rarely disturbed.
Save for the Potter boy.
After his most recent, interaction, with the boy and his /adorable/ little hoodlum friends, Severus was all but sprinting to the dungeons, barely containing tears of pure and utter hate. His eyes stung, and his nose twitched, and he so badly wanted to just remain where he fell and cry and curse and scream at whatever higher power decided to have a field day and laugh at him with every moment he took a breath. But, instead, his legs held strong as he scrambled through the halls of the great castle that was his school; he quietly thanked whoever was up there, despite their sick humor, that they didn't waver.
He'd only be ridiculed further.
It was on this day, in late October, that the presents began to appear nightly on his bedspread.
He dumped his books into his trunk and was about to leap into the confines of the heavy green curtains and a silencing spell, when he noticed the small package. On a note, tied with simple string, was his name. It was written in gorgeous Caligraphy, with swirls and dips and curls and dark spots and thin lines and it was lovely. Oh yes, oh so lovely. He began to use that note as a bookmark. He glanced about his dorm room quickly, no other occupants in sight, and slid onto his bed. He drew the curtains in a fast swept, then cast a simple silencing charm, before settling down to look quite quizzically at the small package. He fingered the note gingerly, as if it would vanish if touched to sternly, before slowly untying the ribbon.
Within that brown paper wrapping was one of the most beautiful writing sets Severus had ever laid eyes on.
With gentle hands, he lifted the exquisite quill. Long, dipped in gold, with a silver tip with a little knob. He quickly found this knob to be an ink well inside the quill itself, with which he could draw ink into the quill's stem and write for twice as long before needing his little squat in well again. And then the ink well itself, was also plated in gold. 'Severus' in spindly cursive was etched into the precious metal, with a top that had been charmed to create a vacuum when it lid was shut as not to spill. And beneath these two glittering items (which, for sure cost more than Severus' entire trunk twice over) was a dark black journal, with a snake's head biting down as the lock. Tucked into a corner was another note, which was quickly removed, unfolded, and read.
::Note::
Severus,
Your voice, whispering 'open' with two taps, is the only way this diary can be opened. It is never ending. Do enjoy.
Yours.
::/Note::
Severus beamed, amazed
and almost in tears again with thanks. He had a vague inkling of whom
these items may be received from, but, who was he to assume? Instead,
he knew almost instantaneously that these items would become his
world. This golden quill, ink well, and diary. He smiled, slightly, a
genuine smile. A rare sight, but he was unable to stop it happening.
He smiled, and laughed, running his hands over the somehow still soft
fluff of the gold-dipped feather, watching it bend as if the metal
cause no stiffness.
"Thank you," He whispered out loud,
closing his eyes. His grin grew brighter. "Whomever you are."
--w—
He eagerly awaited Wednesday evenings. He had found that if he returned, despite his atrocious or possibly (if he was almost ungodly lucky) rewarding day, a package would be there, silent and waiting for him. A friend, something to keep him company, despite who this 'Yours' was.
The second week, Severus received a brand new carrier bag. It was beautifully black and leather, shining gently. His initials were engraved in silver across the flat, and along the strap to heave around his shoulder was a gorgeous intricate celtic design in the same shimmery silver.
"Your studies must burden you, with that bag that bottoms out so often. Yours."
The next week, Severus received an entirely new set of books, along with a non-school-potions book called 'he who brews.' It amazed him, with it's odd and intricate powers of potion making. Some things were still far out of his ability, but he studied and made notes in his journal, as well as his books, about everything he could.
"I can easily say, you needed some new tomes. Yours were awful. There's something special too, for light reading. Yours."
The next week, the first Wednesday in November, was a small set of beakers, and a bag of test tubes, with a pull out pocket of small vials of various ingredients. As well as, much to Severus' utter delight, a signed letter from Slughorn giving him full permission to study in the potions room, after hours. So long as he didn't touch anything. Which, of course, Severus did no such thing.
"You need to keep up. You need to excel in what is so obviously your strong point. Yours."
The second week of November, Severus almost cried. There, brilliant in the evening sunlight, lay a brand new broom. It was sparkling gorgeous, obviously expensive. The newest out. Though not much of a Sportsman, Severus did actually very much enjoy a good flit about the castle. It was silent up that high, cooler air caused him to shiver. It was a brilliant place to think. Along with this gorgeous specimen of a broomstick, was a book called "Care and Handling of your Broom." He beamed at it, studying it just as hard as "He Who Brews," and as though it always was required reading.
"Take your mind off. Christmas is soon upon us. Yours."
Five weeks into this blissful routine, Severus was let out of his Charms class early. Excited, he immediately headed for the dungeons, almost bursting at the seems. That was, of course, until Potter decided to step in.
Again.
"You've been getting so fancy stuff lately, Sniv." Severus felt a jerk, whipping around to find the Potter's filthy little hand tight around the leather strap of his bag. "Gold quills, leather bags. And yeah I saw your snazzy broom."
"None to bother you,"
Severus mumbled, tugging at the strap. "Now if you don't mind,
I'm returning to my room."
"Oh in fact I do mind."
Potter's mild stare became that of a cat on a mouth, grinning with
teeth and wrinkles by his eyes and it made Severus' stomach turn.
"I do indeed. How would a little nothing like you be getting all
this stuff, huh? Picking it off, Sniv? Stealing out of teacher's
purses?"
"They're gifts." He tugged again, feeling his limbs turn to ice. That settled the lovely things' fates, there. That statement. Black, the stupid git, as well as Potter got the same brief look of shock, before total histerics drew the attention of the hallway.
"Gifts. Gifts? For /you/? Who in the blood hell would give /you/ a gift, you total sod." He jerked the strap, hard, sending Severus forward and onto one knee, as not to perfectly smash his face into Potter's foot. "What a knight, lookit him." Severus glared up at him, jerking the strap hard.
"Let it go, Potter!
Just because my friends can get me thi—"
"Friends?" This
time Black shot in, eyes horrifically dark. "Oh please, Sniv. The
least you could do is come up with a decent lie, not a bold faced
one." He snickered, leaning to pull the leather flat away. "Oh
look James! New books too."
"Wow, Snivvy, you're
picking off a lot aren't you."
"I'm picking off nothing!
Don't—Hey!" Severus felt himself turn, if possible, even more
pale as Black returned to Potter's shoulder with the diary.
"Don't--"
"Lookit here, James."
He waved it slowly. "Snivvy's got a diary."
"By all Means
Mr. Black." James bowed, and quickly shoved Severus back onto his
knee when he made an attempt to stand. "Read, read."
"It wont open." Sirius scowled, tugging at the snakes head. Severus just smiled slightly, then hid it.
"It's charmed you
bloody git, I'm not stupid."
"I beg to differ." James'
wand was out in a moment, tapping the Diary. "Alo—"
Crack.
Smash.
Crunch.
It was almost a blinding speed, that Potter's hand was suddenly gone from Severu's shoulder. But Severus didn't really register that, so much as how quickly James flew backwards, hitting quite satisfactory into the stone wall. His head made the sick crunch sound, and he slumped into an unconscious heap.
No one moved for about ten seconds.
"You little nutter!"
Sirius has Severus by the front of the shirt as Remus hurried over to
James' side. "You little shit, you hexed the journal!"
"I
think….Mr. Black…that using such unintelligent language has lost
you five points to Gryffindor."
Severus almost melted.
Sirius dropped him and turned around quickly, nose almost bumping
into the chest of a very obviously unhappy Mister Lucius, Malfoy.
"He hexed—"
"No, Mr. Black."
Lucius arched a pale brow, mouth set in a tight line. "Mr. Potter
attempted to read into something that was quite obviously not. His.
And thus, he gained a rightful reward."
"But—"
"I
suggest you take your friend to the infirmary." Lucius' stare was
hard, stoney and cold as ice. But Severus was smiling, despite being
on the floor. Under Lucius' arm was tucked a little brown gift with
a white card, Severus' name on it. Sirius sneered at him, but
eventually relented and when to help Remus and Peter carry their
fallen friend down the hall. "Quickly now. Don't be late for the
detention I assign as well." But Lucius was already on his knees,
picking the new books up. "Forgive me, I was late."
"…That's alright," Severus blinked, before scrambling to help him with the gathering of books and quill. "…Thank you."
"It's my obligation as a Prefect," Lucius almost droned, eyes dark. "Though for this purpose, I am quite honored to be one and, quite glad to have such ability."
"Me too," Severus quietly agreed. "…Is that for me?"
Lucius looked quizzical, handing Severus his last book, before down at the gift he'd left on the floor. Then, the tight line grew into quite the charming smile. "Oh, yes. Here." He retired it, then offered it out to him. "But lets retire to your chambers. We've an audience."
Severus felt himself
blush, trying to forget, again, the eyes boring into him from every
direction in the hallway. He tucked the package into his bag, before
nodding and getting up. "Yes, brilliant, of course. Yes…lets go
then."
"After you, Mr. Snape."
--w—
A/N:
Yay, new chapter. :3 Like it so far? This is sort of what sparks their relationship, here. 3
Not much to say.
Review?
