Please note, that I do not own the character of Severus Snape, or any other magical lingo.  This is a Severus/OC story.  Samantha is my own creation.

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Chapter 8:

            Samantha sat at the table in the kitchen.  The elves were bustling about, preparing food, though she doubted that Severus wanted any dinner.  She cradled a mug of hot chocolate that Buttercup presented to her, beaming.  The elves were so sweet and innocent, that she couldn't resist accepting.

            She was thinking of Severus.  After Dumbledore left, and after the few minutes they stood in the hall, he bolted upstairs and into his room.  Samantha heard the door slam and knew that she'd not see him for the rest of the night.  An elf led her into the kitchen, so she wouldn't be so lonely in the huge manor.

            "Is the Miss staying with us?" asked one of the elves, looking up at Samantha, even though she was sitting.

            "Yes, I am.  I hope your Master doesn't mind."

            "He likes you, I thinks."  Samantha blushed and awkwardly took a sip from her mug.  The elf gave her a huge knowing grin.  Buttercup shooed the elf back to work.  She stood on the bench across from Samantha, and placed a bowl of potatoes on the table with a thud.  She started peeling the potatoes and cutting them up for the soup.

            "Buttercup, what is Severus like?  Usually?"  Samantha figured she'd put a damper on his mood ever since she arrived.  He seemed dark and secretive, but he didn't seem the type to be so moody.  Buttercup, while continuing to cut, frowned in thought.

            "He is very quiet.  He rarely speaks to us, or to anyone.  Only the Headmaster comes to visit him this summer." 

            "How long has he been teaching at the school?"

            "This is his first year.  We're all frantic about his leaving.  What will we do?  We'll have nobody to serve while he is away!"  She seemed very distressed by this, and Samantha figured that Severus will think of something.

            "Buttercup, how long have you known Severus?"  She took a sip of the hot chocolate, feeling the warmth spread in her throat.  Buttercup scratched her head with the handle of the knife as she thought about it.

            "Since he was 5 years old.  I'm no good at math.  He's 23 this year."

            "What was he like?"

            "When?"

            "When he was 5, when he was growing up."  She took another warm sip.

            "He was quiet.  Always quiet.  He was the only child to the Master and Miss.  Oh, the Master.  He was a quiet man, too.  He was quiet, but kind.  He was warmer than the young Master," she used her knife to point upstairs, "he was more…friendly.  And Miss was very pretty and gentle, she always tended the gardens."  Buttercup sighed, getting lost in some memories.

            "Tell me more about Severus.  Anything."

            "Well, let's see, he liked reading when he was little.  He learned before I came here.  And most of the day, he sat in the library and read.  He has read every single book in that room since then."  Samantha raised her eyebrows in surprise.  Buttercup nodded vigorously to assure her it was true.

            "And he was always excellent with his wand, but he also learned to do things without the wand, too.  He's very smart.  He loves the potions.  That's what he's going to teach at Hogwarts."  Buttercup beamed at Samantha, feeling very proud of her Master.

            "He used to fly around the estate on his broomstick, too, playing with some magic ball.  He was fast and very good.  Let me see… He was in Slytherin House at Hogwarts."  Samantha nodded, though she had no idea what that meant.  Buttercup's smile slowly faded and she started to focus more on cutting.

            "Slytherin was no good for him.  He changed.  Master got an obsession with the Dark Arts from there," at that, Samantha's eyes shot up to look at Buttercup, "he came home and stopped spending time with Master and Miss.  He still played with his brooms.  And he read, but about dark things.  Black magic.  Dark potions."

            "What did his parents say?"  Samantha wrapped her right hand around her warm mug, and the fingers of her left hand wrapped around a lock of her thick hair.  She wanted to know if he could relate to her situation with her own parents.

            "The Master did not like it.  He did not like it at all.  The Master and the Miss died three years ago."  Buttercup nearly choked telling her these things, her brow wrinkling.

Samantha leaned forward.

"Buttercup, what happened to them?" 

Buttercup was finished with the cutting.  She carefully lifted the bowl of cut potatoes and climbed down from the bench she was standing on.  Another elf came and cleared the peels off the table.

"I think I cannot tell you that.  You should hear from the Master."  Tears formed in her eyes and she turned to take the potatoes to the elves making the soup.  Samantha sat at the table, still intrigued and confused by Severus.

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            Carefully, she climbed the stairs.  Samantha was carrying a large tray.  It was burdened with a large bowl of steaming vegetable soup, a plate with slices of bread and cheese, a bowl of grapes and strawberries, a glass of water, and a glass of wine.  She was scared to death of dropping the tray, but she insisted on taking the tray herself.  Usually, the elves explained, they took him his dinner.  They were worried, but didn't deny her "the honor."

Finally reaching the top, she maneuvered carefully towards the right and proceeded to the end of the hall, where she knew Severus' room must be.  She stood in front of the large wooden double doors.  She struggled to think of a way to knock without moving the tray too much.  It was too heavy to hold with one arm.  She softly kicked the door three times.

She could swear she heard some rustling inside.  But there was no answer.  After a few moments, she kicked three more times.

"Severus?"  She called his name gently, but loud enough for him to hear through the doors.  She heard loud footsteps thundering toward the door.  The door didn't open like she expected, instead she heard his booming voice.

"Miss Smill, I really cannot be bothered right now!"  She jumped and nearly dropped the tray when she heard him slam his fist against the door.

"What…what are you doing in there?" Samantha's voice was timid.

"I'm losing my damn mind!"  She let her shoulders drop.  How she managed to keep the tray from tipping or falling, she'll never know.  She took a deep breath.

"Severus?  Please open the door.  I've brought your dinner."  She heard him snicker on the other side.  She heard him kick something.  "It's heavy, can you please open your door?"

"Miss Smill, I really don't have time.  Just stay out of my way!  We'll talk tomorrow.  Until then, stay out of my sight.  I don't think I can handle it!"  With that, she heard his footsteps walk across the room and she heard another door inside his room slam.

She set down the tray before doing anything else.  The second it was safely on the ground, she let out a frustrated scream.  It ended with a piteous moan.  She started crying, and she fled down the hall to her room.

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            Samantha lay sprawled on the bed, sobbing into her pillow.  She wanted to scream, to throw things, to break things, but she couldn't.  She felt like she had to restrain herself.  Besides, these things were not hers to break.

            "Just stay out of my way!  I'm in his way?"  Samantha asked herself, turning her head away from the door.  "Stay out of my sight?"  She vowed that she would.  "He doesn't want to even see me.  The very sight of me makes him angry or sad or something!"  He had said that he couldn't handle it.  She punched her pillow.

            Dirty Death Eater.  That's what she was.  He doesn't want to see her.  It was breaking her heart.  In her struggle to gain power, she didn't think that others would see her as something less.  She's less human.  A sob escaped her throat.  Her face was wet with tears.

            She sat up.  She could leave.  He doesn't want her here.  She can leave.  She stood up and marched out of her room.  When she reached the staircase, she leapt down the stairs, skipping two or three at a time, stumbling and tripping.  She didn't care.  She's leaving.

She reached for the door handle, turned it, and pulled.  Nothing happened.  She pulled harder.  Nothing.  She pushed it.  Still nothing.  She looked for some sort of lock, but there was nothing.

No worries.  She'll find a window.  She found a low window in one of the bathrooms.  She found it unlocked and lifted it easily.  She bent down to put her leg out the window.  She hit something very solid.  She tried putting her arm out the window.  It smashed into something invisible.  The house has been spelled.

It dawned on her that this was probably Dumbledore's doing.  She can't leave.  What about the floo?  She rushed off to the kitchens.  Not a single elf.  Where did they hide?  She wandered to the library and searched the mantel or nearby shelves for any sign of the powder.  Nothing. 

Grudgingly, she stomped back to her room and slammed the door, hoping Severus heard.  Now, not only did she feel unwanted, but she felt…like an unwanted prisoner.  She plopped herself onto the bed and sat back on her elbows. 

Today was…Thursday?  Wednesday?  No, no, it's Thursday.  That means next Thursday, she'd see Dumbledore.  Hopefully he'd grant her some sort of freedom.  One week.  She had been looking forward to these 7 days, when Dumbledore first explained.  Now she's dreading them.

How can she spend the week sitting alone or wandering the house aimlessly, while Severus locked himself away?  Severus.  She looked around the room.  It was once his childhood bedroom.  She stood and walked over to the shelves.  These were his books, his trinkets, his memories.  Her nosiness overwhelmed her common sense, and she began looking through the jumbled belongings on the shelves.

She found a small figurine of a dragon.  It stretched its wings and gave a dusty yawn.  He hasn't been touched in over 10 years.  She placed him back, and he curled up, going back to sleep.  She found a small diary, and thinking it a journal, she opened it.  The first page read "Potions to Attempt" and she immediately put it back.  No secrets, no emotions, not a journal. 

On a lower shelf she found a sketch book.  This intrigued her.  She stood up and opened it, walking to the bed.  She detected a faint, fading presence of a spell.  Probably to keep the book closed to those without the correct password.  She lied back on the pillows and read the first page.  In Severus' distinct scrawling script, it read:

Severus Snape

7th Year

Slytherin

Reflections on my final year

            She turned the page, and found a stunning ink sketch of the sun setting over a lake.  The detail was breath-taking.  Considering his handwriting was so scratchy, she'd never believe that it was his hand that created his piece of art.  She turned the page.

            It was a striking drawing of a castle.  It was an aerial shot, so she wondered whether it was done while on his broom.  Maybe he did it from memory.  She turned the page.

            A Hungarian Horntail dragon.  This sketch was in color.  And the creature looked so lifelike, she expected it to move.  She turned the page.

            The first drawing of people, lightly colored.  It was a boy and a girl.  The boy was tall, slender, and extremely blond.  His sharp features were set into a smirky grin.  He had his arm around a rather tall, and skinny girl.  She wasn't smiling; she looked content, though not happy.  Her hair, also a blond shade, fell almost over her eyes.  Her hands were wringing the bottom of her sweater.  They were both dressed in school uniform.  She was stunned with the detail of shadows and colors.  These were his friends, perhaps.  She turned the page.

            A smiling Dumbledore looked at her from over his moon-shaped glasses.  His blue eyes twinkled, even in the drawing.  Severus wrote a note at the bottom:  'Prof. Dumbledore.  Transfiguration.'  He was evidently in his class.  She turned the page.

            A sketch of an elegant green-and-silver lounge or living room.  She turned the page.

A sketch of a great hall, candles floating in the air, a night sky above.  She turned the page. 

A sketch of a dark forest, eerie, yet very beautiful.  She turned the page. 

A rough drawing of 6 people dressed in a different sort of green and silver uniform, each holding a broomstick.  They were a quidditch team, but where was their seventh player?  Severus?  She turned the page.

            Samantha froze.  And no matter how much she wanted to pull her eyes away from this sketch, she couldn't.  It was so incredibly… beautiful.  It was a girl.  Her deep green eyes, completely detailed with yellows and browns.  Her thick copper-colored hair falling over her shoulders.  Her shoulders…her arms…her delicate hands.  She was holding a quill, positioned over a piece of parchment.  But her eyes were focused forward, mouth set in a soft smile.  Looking right at…Severus.  The table, the shelves behind her, the books at her elbow were all slightly hazy.  They obviously didn't matter.  With a deep frown, Samantha turned the page.

            Another sketch of the same girl.  This time her entire body.  Her soft, curvy frame was standing, slightly bent.  Both hands were on her knees for support.  Her face was flushed, her eyes closed, and she was frozen in laughter.  She was so alive and…beautiful.  Her red waves of hair tumbled around her shoulders, wisps of it in her face.  She looked so care-free and happy.  Blinking back tears of jealousy, she turned the page.

            The rest of the book, about another 25 pages, were sketches of her.  Her raising her hand in class.  Yawning in class.  Sitting under a tree.  Asleep on a book.  Eating dinner.  Flying on a broom.  Laughing and running from someone.  Her in dress robes.  Her in muggle clothes…the last picture was torn in half.  It looked like she was tenderly kissing someone, but whoever it was was torn out.  She closed the book.  She realized she had tears streaming down her face.

            Samantha stood to put the book back where she'd found it.  She wiped the tears away with the backs of her hands.  She felt sick.  She was jealous.  Jealous of the girl in those drawings.  He adored her.  He worshiped her.  He loved this girl.

            "Just stay out of my sight!"  His words echoed in her mind.  She blinked away another flood of tears.  Unable to resist the wave of sadness, she collapsed into the bed and cried.  She cried and cried, until she was fast asleep.

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Their hands were all over her body.  She shook and fought, but she couldn't withstand their hands.  A wand tapped her forehead.  Her body went rigid.  The hands let go and she dropped to the ground with a thud. 

The spell was released, and at that exact moment, a curse hit her.  She writhed on the ground.  Pain tormented her mind.  Her soul.  The pain barely reached her body.  It stopped, only to start again.  Her eyes clenched tight, gritting her teeth, she prayed it'd stop.  It did. 

She tried to raise herself to her hands and knees.  Another curse hit her.  She clawed the dirt under her fingers desperately.  When the curse stopped, she took her opportunity to scream.  Her voice was hoarse, but she screamed, and kept screaming even as the next curse hit her.  And the next curse, and the next.

Samantha felt the hands on her again.  Several small pairs of hands were shaking her.  Not violently, but urgently.  She pulled her mind to address these hands.  She opened her eyes to see Buttercup and four other house elves staring at her wide-eyed.  Samantha pressed a hand to her aching head.

"Miss, you's screaming!  Loudly!"  Buttercup jumped anxiously on the bed!

"Yes, Miss Smill, what is all this in the middle of the night?"  Severus stepped into the room, rubbing his face, still fully dressed.  "You may leave us."  He watched the elves march out of the room, Buttercup lighting the fireplace first and closing the door on her way out.

He stood near the door, watching the fire, the firelight dancing on his dark, shadowy form.  Samantha, sitting on her bed, was captivated by him.  She stared at him for a few moments, soaking in the detail of his strong hands, fine wrinkles on his forehead, hooked nose…She shook her head, pressing a hand against it.  When she looked up to Severus, it was like she saw him there for the first time.

Samantha was so overwhelmed to see Severus.  She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.  She was scared.  She was angry.  She was sad.  She was excited.  These emotions clashed in her head.  Her eyes were glued to his face, seeking some sort of emotion, reaction, anything.  And when she opened her mouth again, only one word came out.

"Severus…"

            He didn't respond.  He didn't even look at her.  He seemed uncomfortable and nervous being in that room with her.  Death Eater, right in his own home, she thought, of course, he's nervous.  He turned and stepped toward the shelves and produced the same flask and vial he used the night before.  He poured her a dose and offered it to her.

            Lightening blazed into the room, and Samantha instinctively put her hands up in defense.  In defense against the lightening, against the curses, against Severus…

            She looked up to him.  His robes were wrinkled.  His hair was creased and disheveled.  His face was pale, his eyes were tired and puffy, his mouth…

            Samantha shook herself.  She looked down at herself over to see what a mess she was.  She had slept on top of the covers, still in her dress.  Even her boots were still on.  She groaned, feeling that both feet had fallen asleep in the restricting leather.

            Severus, without a word, offered the potion to her again, placing it right under her nose.  Annoyed, Samantha pushed away his hand, shaking her head.  If he wasn't going to speak to her, then she won't speak to him either.

            He grunted, also annoyed, pouring the dose back into the flask and replacing it on the shelf.  He noticed then that things had been disturbed on the shelves.  He looked over to her, finding her staring at him.

            "What is your problem?"

            Samantha was shocked that he was asking HER that.  She thought she should be the one asking that.  Her wide eyes and raised eyebrows showed Severus her shock.  He raised his brows, too, in mock surprise.

            Samantha groaned, putting her hands again to her aching head.  Those hands all over.  She shuddered.

            "Nightmare."

            "Well, that's what the potion is for!"

            "I don't want to sleep now!  I'm scared and frustrated!"

            "That's fine!  Don't sleep!  Be scared and whatever the hell else you want!  But don't disturb me with your screams!  In the middle of the night!"  He shook his head and grunted again.

            "I didn't know I was screaming out loud."  Samantha's rage surrendered in an instant to her sorrow.  "I'm sorry for waking you."

            "I wasn't sleeping."

            "Then for disturbing you."

            "And how about for snooping around my things?"  Samantha's eyes snapped up at him.  He was watching her reaction.  He took several steps closer to the bed.

            "It's rather obvious.  What were you looking for?  What did you find?"  He leaned down, his face just in front of hers.  Instantly Samantha's mind filled with unwanted images of the beautiful girl.  Her heart sagged, and she fell deeper into her pit of despair.  She couldn't look in his eyes.  And she definitely would not answer him.

            Her body shuddered once more, from the shock of her dream and of being suddenly woken.  She nearly sobbed when she remembered her dream.  It wasn't just a nightmare.  It was a memory.  Three days ago?  Seemed like an eternity.  Thinking back to that day, her body went rigid.  She closed her eyes, feeling pulses of pain radiating through her body.

            Suddenly, Severus grabbed her shoulders and shook her.

            "Snap out of it, woman!"  She winced at his words.  Such disdain.  How would he treat his precious love if she'd awoken from such a nightmare?  She swallowed, forcing those thoughts out of her head.  She only wished he'd hold her.  She needed something strong to hold onto before she lost herself to the pain and memories.

            She looked into his eyes, pleadingly.  She saw him struggle with something inside him.  His hands on her shoulders tightened and suddenly let go.  His face, a few inches from hers, scowled at her.  He stood and stalked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

            Samantha lay back on the pillows.  Her face completely blank.  Her mind clear.  Her heart void of emotions.  They were all struggling to overwhelm her a moment ago, but now she felt all alone.  Frustrated with herself and lack of emotional control, Samantha reached down to pull off her confining boots.  Now she knew.  She had to stop.    There can be no more intrigue.  No more emotional outbursts.  And he's made it quite clear what their relationship is.  He's only her guardian, or rather warden, for the next 7 days.    Then he'll be out of her life forever.  She sighed at the mere thought.

            Samantha stood up and removed her dress, neatly placing it over the back of the desk chair.  In her underwear, she crawled under the covers.  She closed her eyes, thinking about Severus.  His dark, brooding stare.  His angry, frustrated yells.  His defeated, hopeless desperation.  His face inches away from hers.  If he'd leaned in a little, his lips would have been pressed to hers.  She had only wanted to run her fingers through his hair.  She remembered her face pressed against his chest earlier.  She'd inhaled his scent, savoring the moment.  His extremely clean scent.  Was that man made out of soap?  A slow smile formed on her lips, and she actually giggled.

            "Snap out of it, woman!" Samantha whispered to herself, smiling softly, rolling over to try and fall back asleep.  She'd be worried and confused tomorrow, but for now, she'll sleep.

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Whew!  Ultralong chapter.  I'm on a roll!  The story is slowly progressing.  Samantha's going to try to put her feelings aside, so that the story can advance.  J

Let me know what you think, and if I'm heading in the right direction.

FYI:  I'm thinking in later chapters, we'll be seeing only Severus' point of view (third person)  and maybe we'll understand why he's being so strange (though it should be fairly obvious)