Who Are We?
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Thank You:
Em: Thanks!
J. Lynn: I'm healthy! And I have a lot of schoolwork I should be working on…nah…Oh! I don't want you to get sick either!
Tidmag and Gen Raid: Worry not! I have a spare keyboard just for such situations! You can put your eye back now; we don't want to frighten the young children!
Ashie: Deep? Really? Thanks!
MercS: I'd say it will be. (Harry: I know. Severus: Know what, you stupid boy?! Harry: I know that I'm your stupid boy…no wait! That came out wrong! Severus: *shocked*) *giggles* Of course Sevvy didn't put up a fight! Why would he have wanted to? Yeah…Dumbledores in denial. Glad you like!
Severitus: What are you talking about? I do everything at 3 AM. Yeah…I sort of liked the flashback myself. Odd, I never like anything I write. Oh! The 'logic issue', I have no idea where that came from. It just seemed like "Hey, I have Harry, I think I'll make him have an issue about something. I think I'll make it about logic." I know! It's been ages since any of my favorite stories were updated! *hint hint* Oh. That reminds me, I drew a picture of Zachary a few days ago…but I must admit, I drew better things when I was five…
Saerry Snape: Oh yes! Much fun! Glad you like it!
Vashsunglasses: Right! Equally cool! Oh…no. They may have an option for semi-sane Harry, but Sevvys going to be a different story. *evil cackle* *takes teddy bear and squeezes it happily*
AN: My God, I know it's been awhile since I updated. But uh…sorry? I know, I know. But look! I'm updating NOW!
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After several attempts to explain the situation at hand to Albus—which, believe me, is much more difficult than it should be—and when the elder, brilliant (Sometimes I wonder how he can be portrayed that way) wizard finally understood all that there was to be understood—atleast all that I was willing to tell him—I left.
I didn't wait for the werewolf, it didn't make any difference to me whether he followed me or not. In fact, I was extremely grateful when I was sure that Lupin wasn't following me with his keen senses—or keen nose. Whichever you prefer—because, and I really have no problems saying this, I didn't want his company.
Or any company.
In fact, I felt completely content retiring to my chambers without another word about Harry Potter, my son, Lily Potter, Voldemort, James Potter, Remus Lupin, and especially not the Dursleys. Even the thought that they…No. I'm not going to worry about them, or anything else tonight. I'm going to sleep. My large, comfortable bed seems to call to me. I'm drawn to it as if by dark magic.
And, if I'm forced to tell the truth, I really don't mind what kind of magic it's using.
I can picture it in my mind. I'll walk into my chambers, into my living room. My living room is large. I'm very pleased to say that it is the largest of the Professors chambers, as it is in the dungeons and there was plenty of room to carve it into the stone.
Minerva doesn't like the fact that anything of hers isn't better than mine. She complains to Albus about it constantly.
I'll walk into my living room and look to the right to see the fireplace, which is surrounded by various chairs. The chairs have been in my family for generations. The seats and backs of them are green velvet (have I mentioned that I am from a long line of Slytherins? Oh well, that pattern has been broken…) and the chairs themselves are made from ivory.
Yes, it's illegal today, but when the chairs were made it was highly legal. The ivory has been enchanted to look like ebony, but it's shines like mother-of-pearl when you look closely enough to notice. Into the ivory on one of the chairs is carved a dragon that wraps all of the way around the chair itself. It is a symbol of protection.
Into the other chair there is an elaborate combination of sacrificial daggers and cups full of some holy liquid. Perhaps the blood of Christ? However, more than likely it is just some form of the cultures 'holy water'. I don't know, nor do I really care. The chairs are not there to be studied, they are to sit in.
And sit in them I do.
But not tonight. Tonight I will go straight through the living room, ignoring my similarly designed couch which I enjoy sitting on, reading books from my beautiful book case full of books about, or related to potions. My craft, and my obsession. I never feel truly free unless I am brewing a potion. It gives me comfort and strength, and helps me keep up this charade that will one-day fall apart and then will bring an end to everything.
From my living room I will walk into my bedroom, my second favorite place to be—next to my potions room, of course—and I will throw off my useless robes, not bothering to remove the clothes I wear underneath, and I will fall into bed and into a deep sleep that I will pray not to be roused from.
I reach my door and give it a lazy smirk before uttering the password—do you really think I'm going to tell you the password to my chambers?—and entering.
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I can hardly contain my genuine laugh as my father enters his quarters. That's his password? Somehow, I find it sweet. Endearing, actually. Who would have guessed, who could have guessed that would be it?
As soon as I compose myself, I walk forward until I am in front of the door that will lead me to all of my answers. Perhaps they should call it The Door of Srewsna. It doesn't matter what they call it, I have to get inside.
And I do…using two little words.
"Harry Snape"
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AN: Dear God, kill me now, I didn't just write that, did I? Maybe I did. Doesn't matter much. I hate it. It was horrible. Short as well. But review it anyway! Please?