Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe and characters don't belong to me,
They belong to the wonderful JK Rowling, WB. ect- I'm just borrowing Snape,
Slytherin, and general ideas for a while. I promise to put them back when
I'm done ;) I'm not making any money off of this, it's purely for
entertainmemt. Please don't sue me, I'm a poor college student, and I'd
have to pay you in songbooks and serenades.
Author's notes: Well I posted this a while ago, but it was lost in the ff.net reform, so I'm posting it again. I was also looking at this story earlier, and I started on a back story for Solia, a prequel I guess you could call it. I promise not to make this a Mary Sue (to see my feelings on Mary Sues, read Not Another Mary Sue Fanfiction). So tell me of you think I should go on with the prequel. Oh, and how could I forget, the whole idea for this little scene originated from a challenge on the SnapeSociety on Yahoo, just so you know ;) **
It was dark. It was cold, it was rather drafty. Solia pattered down the dormitory stairs, her long pink nightgown flowing behind her. The common room was deserted, as it should have been at (Solia checked her watch) 4:37 in the morning. The fire had died- not that it mattered to the seventh year, she was only passing through. On nights like this, when she was feeling particularly melancholy and completely tired of life as a pure blooded Slytherin, she had to get out.
Out if her bed, out of her dorm, out of her common room, and seemingly out of her mind. She passed through the sliding stone door, and into the dungeon corridors. Solia shivered in the frigid temperatures, and momentarily thought about going back for her cloak, but decided against it. Sometimes the cold felt good, serving as a reminder of just how cold the world could be. And in the grand scheme of things, no one really noticed if you were unhappy. Or cared. Life would go on with or without you, and plans would be made FOR you if you didn't go along with it. And this was Solia's problem. Her life had been signed away from her before she could speak a single word. Just as her mother's had been, and her grandmother's before her. It wasn't a bad life per say, but a rather meaningless one. Hogwarts had simply been a seven year delay- an escape if you will, from her eventual destiny.
Solia's vision began to blur, as a tell tale stinging sensation came to her eyes. She pulled her nightgown more closely around herself as she roamed the halls. Stifling a sob, she though about how cruel, how. she swallowed, and leaned against the nearest wall. Slowly, she slid down into a sitting position, hugged her knees to her body, and lay her head on her knees. Her long red hair fell over her shoulders and hid her face as she sobbed for all she was worth. **
Footsteps passed by his chamber. Severus Snape sat up in bed, and stared incriminatingly at the door. Perhaps if he ignored the sound, it would go away. No one was stupid enough to pass by HIS door twice in one night. At least not to noisily. They passed by again. And again. Then nothing, For a full fifteen minuets, not a sound could be heard from the hallway. Severus lay back down to go to sleep, when he heard a soft sound from outside his door. It sounded almost like. crying? Mutterinf a few choice words, he stumbled out of bed, and made his way blearily out into the hall. He didn't have to wander far, for huddled not ten feet away from his chamber door, was the source of his nighttime disturbance. Snape could only think of one student of his thst had hair quite that long and quite that red. Miss Golding. Miss Solia Golding. Normally calm and collected, he had rarely seen her in this condition in the seven years that he had known her. No problem with her academic or social life would reduce her to this; she had those areas under perfect, strict control, as any Slytherin would. The only thing that would bother her this much, severus concluded, would be her family. In the midst of her misery, she seemed not to notice the Potions Master. "Miss Golding, what, may I ask, are you doing out of bed?" He asked without his usual amount of malice, but every amount of usual edge. Snape knew at this point, she would spill her heart out to him, tell him how horrid her family was, how awful their prejudice was; he would pat her on the back a few times, tell her that everything would be all right, and tell her firmly, but not unkindly to go to bed before he gave her a detention. This was how the routine went- nearly every single Slytherin had come to him like this at some point or another, with some sort of family problem. Slytherins were complicated, and that was all there was to it.
But no confession came, no family horror stories. Instead, Solia simply stared at her Head of House, daring to ogle at what he was wearing- or rather what he wasn't wearing. A sort of dawning came upon the Potions Master, and a hint of color arose in his cheeks. In his rather sleepy state, he had forgotten to put on so much as a cloak, and all he was wearing was his gray nightshirt. His SHORT gray nightshirt. Snape looked over at Solia, who was no longer huddled up in a ball, but sitting Indian style, looking at him inquisitively.
At least she was no longer crying.
"I believe I asked you a question." He said, regaining his composure. "Couldn't sleep, I hate my family, my future, I'm betrothed, I need air. you're only wearing a nightshirt." Solia smiled slightly at her last comment. Perhaps, she thought, I should go on these nighttime strolls more often. "You noticed." He replied wryly. Solia shrugged. "Betrothed you say? I thought they didn't do that any more." Snape sat down next to her, very carefully. "So did I. Leave it to my family to dig up an archaic ritual, all in the name of 'purity of blood'. You know at times like this, I wish I were a muggle born Huflepuff. Or a half blood. They would understand better." Solia sighed. "A Hufflepuff, really?" Her favorite professor raised an eyebrow at her statement. "No. I love Slytherin, and I wouldn't give it up for anything in the world. It's my family that I really want to change." "Well there's no use wishing to change things you have no control over. But don't be afraid to take control of your life. Break away of you must- go for your greatest ambitions, I know you have them. You are Slytherin after all, aren't you?" "Yes." Solia smiled slightly. "Yes I am." "There now, that;s better. ." Snape got up, pffered Solia a hand, and pulled her up after him. "It's late, get to bed. And if you mention thid." The Potions Master looked down, indiccatinh his nightshirt- "to anyone, mark my words, I will give you detention for the remainder of the year." "Not a word, I promise." Solia laughed. They walked back to the Slytherin dungeons, and they stopped at the enterance. Solia stepped through the stone entrance to the common room, and gave her professor a once over- it would probably be the only time she would ever see him like this, and smiled evilly. "Nice legs." And with that, the stone door slid shut.
Author's notes: Well I posted this a while ago, but it was lost in the ff.net reform, so I'm posting it again. I was also looking at this story earlier, and I started on a back story for Solia, a prequel I guess you could call it. I promise not to make this a Mary Sue (to see my feelings on Mary Sues, read Not Another Mary Sue Fanfiction). So tell me of you think I should go on with the prequel. Oh, and how could I forget, the whole idea for this little scene originated from a challenge on the SnapeSociety on Yahoo, just so you know ;) **
It was dark. It was cold, it was rather drafty. Solia pattered down the dormitory stairs, her long pink nightgown flowing behind her. The common room was deserted, as it should have been at (Solia checked her watch) 4:37 in the morning. The fire had died- not that it mattered to the seventh year, she was only passing through. On nights like this, when she was feeling particularly melancholy and completely tired of life as a pure blooded Slytherin, she had to get out.
Out if her bed, out of her dorm, out of her common room, and seemingly out of her mind. She passed through the sliding stone door, and into the dungeon corridors. Solia shivered in the frigid temperatures, and momentarily thought about going back for her cloak, but decided against it. Sometimes the cold felt good, serving as a reminder of just how cold the world could be. And in the grand scheme of things, no one really noticed if you were unhappy. Or cared. Life would go on with or without you, and plans would be made FOR you if you didn't go along with it. And this was Solia's problem. Her life had been signed away from her before she could speak a single word. Just as her mother's had been, and her grandmother's before her. It wasn't a bad life per say, but a rather meaningless one. Hogwarts had simply been a seven year delay- an escape if you will, from her eventual destiny.
Solia's vision began to blur, as a tell tale stinging sensation came to her eyes. She pulled her nightgown more closely around herself as she roamed the halls. Stifling a sob, she though about how cruel, how. she swallowed, and leaned against the nearest wall. Slowly, she slid down into a sitting position, hugged her knees to her body, and lay her head on her knees. Her long red hair fell over her shoulders and hid her face as she sobbed for all she was worth. **
Footsteps passed by his chamber. Severus Snape sat up in bed, and stared incriminatingly at the door. Perhaps if he ignored the sound, it would go away. No one was stupid enough to pass by HIS door twice in one night. At least not to noisily. They passed by again. And again. Then nothing, For a full fifteen minuets, not a sound could be heard from the hallway. Severus lay back down to go to sleep, when he heard a soft sound from outside his door. It sounded almost like. crying? Mutterinf a few choice words, he stumbled out of bed, and made his way blearily out into the hall. He didn't have to wander far, for huddled not ten feet away from his chamber door, was the source of his nighttime disturbance. Snape could only think of one student of his thst had hair quite that long and quite that red. Miss Golding. Miss Solia Golding. Normally calm and collected, he had rarely seen her in this condition in the seven years that he had known her. No problem with her academic or social life would reduce her to this; she had those areas under perfect, strict control, as any Slytherin would. The only thing that would bother her this much, severus concluded, would be her family. In the midst of her misery, she seemed not to notice the Potions Master. "Miss Golding, what, may I ask, are you doing out of bed?" He asked without his usual amount of malice, but every amount of usual edge. Snape knew at this point, she would spill her heart out to him, tell him how horrid her family was, how awful their prejudice was; he would pat her on the back a few times, tell her that everything would be all right, and tell her firmly, but not unkindly to go to bed before he gave her a detention. This was how the routine went- nearly every single Slytherin had come to him like this at some point or another, with some sort of family problem. Slytherins were complicated, and that was all there was to it.
But no confession came, no family horror stories. Instead, Solia simply stared at her Head of House, daring to ogle at what he was wearing- or rather what he wasn't wearing. A sort of dawning came upon the Potions Master, and a hint of color arose in his cheeks. In his rather sleepy state, he had forgotten to put on so much as a cloak, and all he was wearing was his gray nightshirt. His SHORT gray nightshirt. Snape looked over at Solia, who was no longer huddled up in a ball, but sitting Indian style, looking at him inquisitively.
At least she was no longer crying.
"I believe I asked you a question." He said, regaining his composure. "Couldn't sleep, I hate my family, my future, I'm betrothed, I need air. you're only wearing a nightshirt." Solia smiled slightly at her last comment. Perhaps, she thought, I should go on these nighttime strolls more often. "You noticed." He replied wryly. Solia shrugged. "Betrothed you say? I thought they didn't do that any more." Snape sat down next to her, very carefully. "So did I. Leave it to my family to dig up an archaic ritual, all in the name of 'purity of blood'. You know at times like this, I wish I were a muggle born Huflepuff. Or a half blood. They would understand better." Solia sighed. "A Hufflepuff, really?" Her favorite professor raised an eyebrow at her statement. "No. I love Slytherin, and I wouldn't give it up for anything in the world. It's my family that I really want to change." "Well there's no use wishing to change things you have no control over. But don't be afraid to take control of your life. Break away of you must- go for your greatest ambitions, I know you have them. You are Slytherin after all, aren't you?" "Yes." Solia smiled slightly. "Yes I am." "There now, that;s better. ." Snape got up, pffered Solia a hand, and pulled her up after him. "It's late, get to bed. And if you mention thid." The Potions Master looked down, indiccatinh his nightshirt- "to anyone, mark my words, I will give you detention for the remainder of the year." "Not a word, I promise." Solia laughed. They walked back to the Slytherin dungeons, and they stopped at the enterance. Solia stepped through the stone entrance to the common room, and gave her professor a once over- it would probably be the only time she would ever see him like this, and smiled evilly. "Nice legs." And with that, the stone door slid shut.