A Secret Admirer: The Stalking of Severus Snape
Chapter 26: Thoughts in a Whirl and of Girls
Professor Snape could hardly fathom the tackiness of writing in haiku. Perhaps if one was on holiday, in the countryside, in a remote Japanese village…but Merlin's beard! This was not the worst of it. The admirer nonsense had to stop. He desired no contact with Florence, however, if the vomit-inducing haikus would cease he would do it!
Merlin! He took a sip of firewhiskey.
There was not enough firewhiskey on Earth to make me calmly suffer the embarrassment and horror of the admirer debacle and the latest nonsense. There was no time for this! Working for the Order and the Death Eaters, or seeming too, at all hours of the night and weekends. Weekends were precious, and few and far between. True, it was a break from teaching but really it was just more paperwork or catching up on some reading.
His weekdays-teaching dunderheads all morning and afternoon until I thought my brain would burst from my skull due to the stress of instructing idiots and dealing with adolescent nonsense. I had been an adolescent once and had hated every minute of it then. Fancy how I ended up being around them for a career that was nowhere near retirement any time soon. Well, I am only 35 after all.
A friend might say, if I ever had any, that there could be worse things and I should just go about my life. That friend, should I ever make one, would be blasted by my wand with whatever unforgivable curse I fancied at that particular moment.
Well, not before I showed them the two haikus I had received. Let them suffer! And if I was feeling particularly put out, I might even let them read Florence's damned drivel!
"…pale skin…" He had hated his pale skin his entire life…always indoors. Not the sporting type. He hadn't really enjoyed quidditch much. Potter could be accredited with that squelching. But besides that…he really never saw the allure of sports. He was excellent on a broom as he got older. But there were many things he started to excel at after he first entered the Dark's Lord's service. Best to always be prepared. His life could very well depend on it.
So, some person, er, woman actually liked my fair complexion.
Er, that was fine, he guessed. But he'd rather they left out the dying corpse part. He had enough nightmares about Voldemort finding him out.
Really. This was some tawdry prank concocted by a vengeful Vector and/ or her equally annoying sidekick, the brainless Sinistra.
He was almost livid with her. Pity he could put aside his anger for a moment as the memory of kissing her and er, her allowing him to, crept into his thoughts.
For the second time, ok, maybe more than two times.
There was this one kiss, I had just turned my head to the side and pressed my mouth a bit closer and she actually sighed. I almost stopped to look at her but…I know I heard it.
He took a swig of firewhiskey.
He would just have to confront them. Perhaps chat up the sidekick first. She was weak, dumb, and pliable. Would most likely spill her guts after very little prodding by him.
The friend… Vector. She would be next. She was a much harder nut to crack. But, she was after all, a sigher, how much trouble could she be after that?
Perhaps she would let him kiss her again?
He took a larger sip of firewhiskey as his own thought revolted him. He was not attracted to Vector. It had just been too long between women. There had been a few here and there.
He was a man after all. Mostly Knockturn Alley…no entanglements, no involvements… a few more career-oriented females that fellow Death Eater friends of his had known.
Women he knew were not interested in anything more; did not want anything more than he did. But as he got busier and older and much more involved with his Order work…his seeking out the Dark Lord yet again after his regeneration at the Headmaster's advice for their cause…it had halted abruptly. Not that it had ever been exceptionally important to him. He had other things to do; always more to do. He really couldn't relate to too many people he had known, even for small talk about work or whatever, even to spend a night with.
Who really was in any type of situation similar to mine? Who could I even share a concern or two with anyway without risking my very existence?
"...pale skin..." He hated it but was sure it just went with his black hair. He had his mother's hair from the Princes on his Irish side. So he accepted it. It was him. He was born this way and even though there was a time when he was 14 and would have secretly killed for Potter's windburnt complexion and messy yet artfully-styled hair, that time was long past.
Thank Merlin, one only had to be in their teens-once.
And the revolting haiku before that…all nonsense about his dark eyes…his eyes were the only thing that he actually didn't mind about himself. The most beautiful eyes he had ever seen weren't even a man's. They were Lily's and they were green.
A bottle green… so unique, so her… almost emerald.
His breath caught sometimes when he was forced to talk to Potter and make eye contact. He'd taught Potter for five years and it still pained him from time to time.
They were identical-the very same green, and probably the only thing the brat shared with his mother.
Actually, the only other person I had ever known with such curious eyes was Vector. They were blue but an uncommon blue. Could have sworn they looked purple in certain lights, if she wore royal blue, or violet, or….
He took another rather large swig of firewhiskey.
He had thought about doing it tonight…
No. He would talk to Sinistra first. Some time tomorrow.
Actually, she might not crack as easily as one would expect. She was as loyal as a dog to Septima. No matter. Tomorrow, I would just see the both of them together.
Well, there was always the chance I might see them first. They themselves were surely trying to figure out whom Vector's own admirer was.
Pity, he couldn't be more helpful to them.