A/N: Yay! This story is.....um.....about Snape. Yeah. That's all I have to say.... DISCLAIMER: I do not own Snape or any Harry Potter stuff.

Through the Eyes of Misery

By Feathery Kuja

He stood in the doorway of the dark, cold room becoming aware of the inky shadows surrounding him. The frigid air rose hairs and the back of his neck as they lightly brushed against him. The slow trickle of water could be heard echoing from a distance, dancing in the utter silence of this secluded place.

Why had he even come down here? The man had no idea himself; he just found himself here as if emerging from some sort of trance state in which his body subconsciously lead him to this place without his mind completely knowing. In truth, it took him a few moments to realize where he was, even though he had been here so many times in the past.

He took a step backwards, out of the doorway of the room; the 'click' of his heels echoed loudly along the deserted corridors of the dungeons. Spider webs hung limp and forgotten in dark corners and an occasional bat shrieked in the night. Rats scurried frantically for new hideaways when a light was subjected upon them. Ghosts and God knows what else roamed these halls at night.

This place would never be a comfortable one for most people. It was very difficult to become used to calling this place 'home,' but he supposed this is what set him apart from that 'everyone else.'

While they all stayed above ground in cozy, warm rooms with a bright, glowing fire where mistletoe decorated the walls like carpeting, this man preferred to spend his December's in the cold, damp maze of the Hogwart's dungeons.

That is one of the things 'everyone' found most odd about him. Didn't he want to enjoy the Christmas holidays with celebrating and socializing with close friends and colleagues? No. Didn't he EVER want to leave this secluded place to find somewhere more...suitable for living? No. He preferred the darkness and quiet to the Christmas lights and celebrations.

Not even Headmaster Dumbledore himself could draw him out of his mental haven of secluded peace. The holidays only reminded him of how alone he was. Of how everyone despised him, and could care less if he went out and got drunk and never came back.

Life was not supposed to treat you this way. But with Severus Snape it had made an exception. His twisted excuse for life lead him nowhere but pain, got him nothing but sorrow. He could not even remember the last time he was truly happy. His life was like an inky shadow, living only on darkness and with no motivation but to scare the living witless. What had he done to deserve such a cruel fate?

He sat in the quiet for a while, reviewing his nightmare of a life in moments. It only brought back more pain, but it could not be resisted. It was the ultimate temptation. Why was it so imbedded in human nature to remember all the bad things in life? Or was it only like this for him because his life was completely composed of the darker elements?

The steady drip of water brought him out of his glassy pool of dark memories. He shifted uneasily, as if under the steady eye of an unknown presence, then began to walk back towards the more used part of the dungeons. Though he knew he would find no one else there. The only time a soul dared come down here was either for classes, or another professor seeking his aid. Though that was rare too.

The rest of the time he spent alone, everyday was the same: all work and no rest.

He stood in front of the old, heavy wooden door leading to the classroom. The tarnished brass doorknob felt cold and worn under his hand. He twisted it slowly and pushed the door open. Immediately he was hit with a wall of warmer air. Not to say that it was warm, just more comfortable and tolerable than the rest of the twisted maze of the dungeons. The smell of asphodel and other common ingredients was thick in the air. Shutting the door behind him with a groan that reminded him more of a sighing monster than a door, he walked past the rows of desks and benches and sat down behind his desk at the head of the room.

The desktop was littered with papers, homework assignments, quills and so forth. He pulled a stack of parchment closer to him to see exactly what it was. The potions test he had given the seventh years. Three weeks ago.

He sighed and picked up a quill, ready to mark off something or another when there was a soft knock on the door.

He set the quill back down on the desk and his lips curled into a sneer.

"Come in." he said curtly.

The door was pushed open slowly and a tall man with a long white beard stepped in. "Hello, Severus, I trust you are well."

"Oh, hello, Headmaster." Snape replied, a bit shocked. When was the last time Albus Dumbledore had dared to travel down into the catacombs? He thought to himself with slight amusement.

"We were wondering if you would like to join us for our small feast. I assume you will?"

Severus sighed inwardly. He much rather would have stayed in his dark, desolate dungeons than join a group of drunken staff members in some kind of sick masquerade bearing the excuse of 'celebrating.'

"Yes, of course." he said, almost prying the words from his throat. He couldn't deny this invitation of the headmasters; he had no excuse and didn't want Dumbledore to think bad of him. Though he was sure he already had some aspects of that nature.

"Great!" the Headmaster exclaimed joyously. "I'm glad you are feeling up to it! It will be a long night!"

Severus nodded slightly, more of a jerk of the head than a nod, and tried to smile. Dumbledore grinned and headed for the door. "Come up around seven 'o' clock, all right, Severus? I'm sure everyone will be so pleased that you will be accompanying us!"

Of course, Severus thought sarcastically to himself, they will truly enjoy my company...

He sighed and went back to the exams. This was going to be a long and excruciatingly boring night, he could already tell that.

Minutes slowly ticked by as he made his way- not merrily- through the stack of papers. It was five minutes until seven 'o' clock; the time he had to leave his dark sanctuary and descend above ground into the light and noise of a feast. A small feast, at that, but no doubt it will be much better than the others.

Deciding he had nothing else to do, he pulled himself up and made his way to the door.

A/N: Okay, how did you like it so far? Mwahaha. I know. Boring. Okay, I'm open to opinions on this one, so-- Where should this story go? Drama? Horror? Romance? COMEDY?! Um....probably not comedy, but...