Disclaimer: All these characters, save my character Louisa Lucas, belong to
J.K. Rowling. If I did own them, I wouldn't be using FanFiction, now, would
I?
Snape's past.
By J. Marguerite
How he missed her. His heart secretly ached for her, a longing that he had pushed down into the very bottom of his belly, where it hid, but occasionally surfaced to remind him of his past that he had tried so many times to leave behind. But how he loved Louisa, the only one who had shared his pain of being different from everyone else, the only one who had showed compassion to his longing of someone to love him.
Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry glared at his sixth-year Gryffindor/Slytherin class, his coal-black eyes filled with pure hatred. They could be so happy, so joyful, especially with the Yule Ball around the corner. It was once a joyous time for Severus too, though that was long ago, when he was only young.
As the class worked fearfully, though the occasional snicker from a Slytherin when they pulled a minor prank on one of the Gryffindor's Potion, though their teacher ignored it, Severus felt his hand slide over to his cloak pocket. His fingers dug deep, and clasped around the corner of a photo, the photo of someone he had lost long ago. A small shriek as heard from a student, and the photo fell from his grasp. Severus' long, black hair fell in front of his eyes.
"Mister Longbottom, what mess have you gotten yourself into this time?" The Potions Master hissed, standing up. Neville Longbottom quivered with terror, as his enraged teacher stormed over to him. "Another mess you've gotten yourself into, I see", Professor Snape muttered, glancing briefly over at the swirling, grey liquid.
"Sir," Hermione Granger began.
"Why weren't you watching him?" Severus barked, his eyes daring for her to continue. The class was deathly quiet- no one had seen Snape this angry. Not even the taunting Slytherins dared to laugh. "Well?"
Hermione's face fell, her cheeks burning a bright red.
"Thirty points from Gryffindor," Severus hissed softly, turning on his heel. "Class dismissed".
***
Hermione walked down the hall, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley on either side of her, shortly after the strange incident in the Dungeons where the Potions Class was held.
"'Mione, what's wrong?" Ron asked, slightly confused at his friend's strange, quiet behavior.
"Snape sure was acting strange today, don't you think?"
Harry shrugged, before replying, "I suppose. Though he's always cruel. But I guess you're right".
Hermione nodded; "He was quiet before that sudden out burst. Almost as if he was thinking about something- you don't think he's back with You-Know- Who again, do you?"
Ron's eyes grew wide, as Harry spoke, "Dumbledore would find out, but you do have a point".
Hermione's brow narrowed, as she thought of a logical reason as to why Snape's behavior was changing ever so slightly- from the cruel, to the bitter cold.
***
-Eleven-year-old Severus Snape ran down the corridor, his Transfiguration books in his arms. He was late, once more.
Damn. He thought to himself, gaining speed. Why had he let himself stall? Those damn Gryffindors, Potter and Black, had been picking on him again. Hell to them! He continued to think, slipping around a narrow corner, Hell!
"Whatcha running for, mysterious stranger?" a young, high-pitched voice asked. Severus looked up, through a curtain of black hair.
"Uh." Severus stalled. Before him stood what seemed to be an angel. A young, fragile looking girl with great, deer-like eyes when shined into car headlights looked up at him. She looked so innocent.
"I'm late for a class. And you will be to, if you don't hurry along" He replied curtly, nodding towards the books she was carrying in her thin, weak-looking arms.
"Hm? Oh! Yes!" She looked down at her books, a faint blush crossing her ghost-like cheeks-
Ghost-like. The Potions Master snapped back into reality. Was Louisa a ghost? The first time he had met her, that day he had been running late to his Transfiguration Class, as had she, was that she would love to be a ghost after she had died. So that she could live forever. Severus has laughed at her, saying that he would rather be dead, and stay dead. She had looked at him strangely, as if he was out of his mind, but had left it at that.
He felt himself drifting off into memories once more, and busied himself by marking a pile of essays, his sixth-year Hufflepuff class had written. After three word after word, useless essays, he started randomly marking them, not reading over them. He sighed as he gave the last essay a "B", and pushed out of his desk, looking at the empty classroom. He sighed, and pulled out the moving photo of his former best friend out of his pocket. He shook his head sadly. What had he done to lose her? She wasn't sensitive, or at least he was sure she wasn't.
'I wonder what she'd be doing if she was still alive' he thought, biting his thumbnail, 'working for the Ministry of Magic? Teaching? Be a mother?'
The last thought stayed in his mind. He would have loved to be the father of her child.
'No!' He thought to himself. Why was he still thinking that? She was gone! Gone! Like he said Twenty-something years ago, when you're dead, you're dead. Period. He groaned, walking over to his private office, which lead into his bedroom.
"I should get some sleep" he muttered, pulling his teaching robes off, and slipping on his pajamas. He pulled down the sheets on his bed slowly. He ran his hand over the silk sheets, and fell into them, letting himself be engulfed in darkness.
TBC
***
A/N: Short Chapter, I know, but what do you think? Press the button below. You know you want to.
Snape's past.
By J. Marguerite
How he missed her. His heart secretly ached for her, a longing that he had pushed down into the very bottom of his belly, where it hid, but occasionally surfaced to remind him of his past that he had tried so many times to leave behind. But how he loved Louisa, the only one who had shared his pain of being different from everyone else, the only one who had showed compassion to his longing of someone to love him.
Severus Snape, Potions Master at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry glared at his sixth-year Gryffindor/Slytherin class, his coal-black eyes filled with pure hatred. They could be so happy, so joyful, especially with the Yule Ball around the corner. It was once a joyous time for Severus too, though that was long ago, when he was only young.
As the class worked fearfully, though the occasional snicker from a Slytherin when they pulled a minor prank on one of the Gryffindor's Potion, though their teacher ignored it, Severus felt his hand slide over to his cloak pocket. His fingers dug deep, and clasped around the corner of a photo, the photo of someone he had lost long ago. A small shriek as heard from a student, and the photo fell from his grasp. Severus' long, black hair fell in front of his eyes.
"Mister Longbottom, what mess have you gotten yourself into this time?" The Potions Master hissed, standing up. Neville Longbottom quivered with terror, as his enraged teacher stormed over to him. "Another mess you've gotten yourself into, I see", Professor Snape muttered, glancing briefly over at the swirling, grey liquid.
"Sir," Hermione Granger began.
"Why weren't you watching him?" Severus barked, his eyes daring for her to continue. The class was deathly quiet- no one had seen Snape this angry. Not even the taunting Slytherins dared to laugh. "Well?"
Hermione's face fell, her cheeks burning a bright red.
"Thirty points from Gryffindor," Severus hissed softly, turning on his heel. "Class dismissed".
***
Hermione walked down the hall, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley on either side of her, shortly after the strange incident in the Dungeons where the Potions Class was held.
"'Mione, what's wrong?" Ron asked, slightly confused at his friend's strange, quiet behavior.
"Snape sure was acting strange today, don't you think?"
Harry shrugged, before replying, "I suppose. Though he's always cruel. But I guess you're right".
Hermione nodded; "He was quiet before that sudden out burst. Almost as if he was thinking about something- you don't think he's back with You-Know- Who again, do you?"
Ron's eyes grew wide, as Harry spoke, "Dumbledore would find out, but you do have a point".
Hermione's brow narrowed, as she thought of a logical reason as to why Snape's behavior was changing ever so slightly- from the cruel, to the bitter cold.
***
-Eleven-year-old Severus Snape ran down the corridor, his Transfiguration books in his arms. He was late, once more.
Damn. He thought to himself, gaining speed. Why had he let himself stall? Those damn Gryffindors, Potter and Black, had been picking on him again. Hell to them! He continued to think, slipping around a narrow corner, Hell!
"Whatcha running for, mysterious stranger?" a young, high-pitched voice asked. Severus looked up, through a curtain of black hair.
"Uh." Severus stalled. Before him stood what seemed to be an angel. A young, fragile looking girl with great, deer-like eyes when shined into car headlights looked up at him. She looked so innocent.
"I'm late for a class. And you will be to, if you don't hurry along" He replied curtly, nodding towards the books she was carrying in her thin, weak-looking arms.
"Hm? Oh! Yes!" She looked down at her books, a faint blush crossing her ghost-like cheeks-
Ghost-like. The Potions Master snapped back into reality. Was Louisa a ghost? The first time he had met her, that day he had been running late to his Transfiguration Class, as had she, was that she would love to be a ghost after she had died. So that she could live forever. Severus has laughed at her, saying that he would rather be dead, and stay dead. She had looked at him strangely, as if he was out of his mind, but had left it at that.
He felt himself drifting off into memories once more, and busied himself by marking a pile of essays, his sixth-year Hufflepuff class had written. After three word after word, useless essays, he started randomly marking them, not reading over them. He sighed as he gave the last essay a "B", and pushed out of his desk, looking at the empty classroom. He sighed, and pulled out the moving photo of his former best friend out of his pocket. He shook his head sadly. What had he done to lose her? She wasn't sensitive, or at least he was sure she wasn't.
'I wonder what she'd be doing if she was still alive' he thought, biting his thumbnail, 'working for the Ministry of Magic? Teaching? Be a mother?'
The last thought stayed in his mind. He would have loved to be the father of her child.
'No!' He thought to himself. Why was he still thinking that? She was gone! Gone! Like he said Twenty-something years ago, when you're dead, you're dead. Period. He groaned, walking over to his private office, which lead into his bedroom.
"I should get some sleep" he muttered, pulling his teaching robes off, and slipping on his pajamas. He pulled down the sheets on his bed slowly. He ran his hand over the silk sheets, and fell into them, letting himself be engulfed in darkness.
TBC
***
A/N: Short Chapter, I know, but what do you think? Press the button below. You know you want to.