I shall only say this once, so please make note of it. J.K. Rowling created everything Harry Potter, not I. The humble plot is mine, as well as the girl. That's about it.
My Love Is Vengeance: Chapter One: Slight of hand and twist of fate.
Snape sat alone in his darkened chambers, in a high backed chair of soft, well worn earth toned leather behind a large cherry wood desk. He crossed his arms in front of him and sunk deeper into the embrace of his throne. Shadows flicked madly against the stone walls, casting his form into the opaque background. A draft hung in the air, not on account of bad weather, rather a familiar characteristic of the dungeon surroundings.
Places like this weren't called dark and dank for nothing.
An expression oiled it's way onto the professor's gaunt face. For most it would be described as a smile, but for him, well, it came off looking somewhat sinister… and pained. What cause this man to flex these almost forgotten muscles were the events prior to now. All the things that led up to this moment, when the reality finally hit him.
Dumbledore had led Severus into his office, blathering on about having to hire a new teacher. One, Snape thought bitterly, for the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, no doubt. The younger of the two men sighed heavily, sinking into a chair opposite a rather large desk and pressed his hand to his forehead. He closed his eyes and a small moan escaped his lips. Snape could feel a hell of a headache coming on.
"What ever is wrong Severus?" Albus looked mildly concerned as he sat at his desk, folding his hands across the top and leaning slightly forward. His eyes narrowed in a bemused sort of way as he spoke next. "That's certainly not the way one should be acting upon getting a promotion…"
That job. That God damned job teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts was finally his. Laughter rang in his mind and he had to do a good deal to stop it from being uttered out loud as he saw the other professors scowling at the news. He would no longer be rummaging throughout the desolate passages of the dungeon as if a rat. The thought of him prowling about the corridors and classrooms as a normal teacher scared the hell out of most of them. Where he was had been fine in their eyes, tucked away and out of sight. Most thought it was where he deserved to be. Hogwarts may be the best wizardry school around, but when it came to having his peers treat him like something more than a bottom feeder a lot was left to be desired.
None of it bothered him, much. And what did, no one knew about. It was useless to show even one iota of emotion. It would only be seen as weakness, and Professor Snape couldn't afford to be weak. Not to the staff, and especially not to the students. Yes, he found that things went quite well as long as he kept things as silly as feelings to himself. Snide comments from dull witted people, young and old alike were nothing to be bothered with anyway. Half of them couldn't even comprehend how to brew the most basic of potions.
He had been a Death Eater, aside from Voldemort himself, one of the most feared things around. He had experienced more than any of them, save for Albus, and there really were no qualms in his mind over the qualifications. Still, he could almost already feel the gentle but persistent pang of longing for the Potions lessons he put so much into. Even if the students didn't realize it, he was a good teacher. Harsh, but good nonetheless.
The fact that Dumbledore had found a replacement for him so quickly hadn't bothered him in the least. Teachers were, after all, easy enough to come by. It was that freakishly abnormal woman. So untactful and not in the least bit skilled in the field she had been hired for. Potions was a perfectly prepared filet mignon, and she was the barbecue sauce some philistine poured over it.
Severus groaned loudly, sat up and leaned his elbows on the desk. Could he never be satisfied? Finally, finally he had gotten the job he wanted, and what was he doing but dwelling on the imperfections of his successor. Let her have the blasted job, what did he care? He had his promotion to think about. With a sigh he let his shoulders slouch, head bow. It was a rare time when he didn't know what to do. His hair swept into his eyes, showing the world in only half right pictures tinged with black. He composed himself a moment later, straightening his back and pushing the hair back from his face. Time to fix the lessons.