"Too busy acting like a hot shot on the Quidditch field to worry about
your studies, eh, Potter? Well, it shows. Ten points from Gryffindor for
this disgusting excuse for a potion."
"But I'm not even finished yet!" Harry Potter protested indignantly.
"Twenty points for arguing. Open your mouth again and it'll be thirty," Severus said, turning away. Then, suddenly, he spun back around and with a flick of his wrist, Harry's potion disappeared. "That was a pathetic attempt. There's still a few minutes left in class, let's see you try to get it right this time." Smiling a thin, evil smile, he walked away satisfied, when he heard Harry mumble, "It's not fair," under his breath. "Thirty points, Mr. Potter," he said gleefully, not bothering to turn and look at the disgrunteld boy. Reaching his desk, he lingered for a moment, then took his seat. As he waited for the bell to ring, he carefully scanned his classroom, feeling a certain sense of happiness pulsing through his veins. While in that classroom, as awful as it may have been to watch these loud mouthed, know it all students fail at every attempt to make a decent potion, there, he had power. There, he was king. What he said, was the law and no one could tell him otherwise. He was a god. Smiling an even more satisfied smile, his eyes narrowed and he achieved his normal look of snide indifference. Suddenly, the bell rang and he watched as a very angry Harry Potter fumbled with his feeble attempt to make another potion. Giving up, the boy quickly left the room, followed by his usual duo of friends. As all of the students filed out of his classroom, every last hint of a smile faded from Snape's stern, unforgiving face. His coal eyes darted away from the door. Each student had left his room in some sort of group. Now, not only had he lost that bit of control he felt so wonderful about. On top of it, he had to watch all of his students running off hapily with their friends. Even young Draco Malfoy, who Severus seemed to favor because the two had a multitude of similarities, had his own little group of buddies. Snape thought briefly about all of his classes and realized that not one of them contained a scrawny, dark haired outcast. Not one of them showed a young boy trying every day not to care about who was laughing at him, or when he'd next be bullied by another young wizard. Discomfort flooded over Severus' body as he began to feel as alone as he truly was. His eyes searched the room for life. Illogically hoping for some student to be breaking a rule somewhere in the back of his class room. Searching for something. Someone. Realizing he was completely alone, he felt, for the first time, that he would have really enjoyed some company. Anyone. Feeling vulnerable already, he let a few bad memories slip into his mind. However, these were of his teenage years. Remembering how James Potter and his cronies had tortured him. How all the students at Hogwarts had laughed. The anger Snape had felt, being so alone. Left to eat lunch by himself every day. Even the other students in his own house had outcasted him. Everyone had a different nick name for him. Everyone had a different reason to hate him. A silent sigh escaped his lips, that had seemed to be drained of all remaining colour.
It was lunch time. Severus knew he couldn't sit in his classroom all lunch hour, waiting for his students to return. Reluctantly, he made his way down to the staff room to get some lunch. As he entered the room, he felt the mixture of eyes darting away from him, trying not to stare for too long, and of other eyes that never even noticed his existance. The teacher's lounge was a slightly more polite version of his school days. "Hello, Severus," came a woman's voice from behind him.
"Hello, Minerva," he said cooly, trying to sound unaffected. She lingered for a moment, feeling obligated to say more. Wondering if she even should have said something in the first place. He helped her reach a decision, by moving quickly away from her. A few other teachers addressed him. Some even went as far as to make small talk about students or the weather. In these cases of fake interest, where the other teachers seemed desperate to oblige their guilty consciences and talk to Snape, he felt sarcasm was his most fierce weapon. He made sure not to wait too long, listening to them babbling on about subject that lacked all intelligence and importance. After making some snide remark, he would leave, feeling somewhat satisfied as he successfully made it to the lunch table and gathered some food. This was the day's daily routine. However, looking on the bright side, Snape's darkened feeling of lonliness began to lift as he realized how horrible most contact with the rest of the world really was. Perhaps he was meant to be alone. Maybe, he had always been an outcast because he had never found someone who he could relate to, or who could understand him. Though he felt this to be true, he began to eat his food, letting the subject flow from his mind. There was no point in feeling sorry for himself. Feeling angsty and misunderstood. He simply could not see the point in it, so he continued finishing his meal alone in silence.
As he ate, one last teacher approached his table. "Hey Snape. Food's good today, eh? So, nice weather we've been having . . . "
"But I'm not even finished yet!" Harry Potter protested indignantly.
"Twenty points for arguing. Open your mouth again and it'll be thirty," Severus said, turning away. Then, suddenly, he spun back around and with a flick of his wrist, Harry's potion disappeared. "That was a pathetic attempt. There's still a few minutes left in class, let's see you try to get it right this time." Smiling a thin, evil smile, he walked away satisfied, when he heard Harry mumble, "It's not fair," under his breath. "Thirty points, Mr. Potter," he said gleefully, not bothering to turn and look at the disgrunteld boy. Reaching his desk, he lingered for a moment, then took his seat. As he waited for the bell to ring, he carefully scanned his classroom, feeling a certain sense of happiness pulsing through his veins. While in that classroom, as awful as it may have been to watch these loud mouthed, know it all students fail at every attempt to make a decent potion, there, he had power. There, he was king. What he said, was the law and no one could tell him otherwise. He was a god. Smiling an even more satisfied smile, his eyes narrowed and he achieved his normal look of snide indifference. Suddenly, the bell rang and he watched as a very angry Harry Potter fumbled with his feeble attempt to make another potion. Giving up, the boy quickly left the room, followed by his usual duo of friends. As all of the students filed out of his classroom, every last hint of a smile faded from Snape's stern, unforgiving face. His coal eyes darted away from the door. Each student had left his room in some sort of group. Now, not only had he lost that bit of control he felt so wonderful about. On top of it, he had to watch all of his students running off hapily with their friends. Even young Draco Malfoy, who Severus seemed to favor because the two had a multitude of similarities, had his own little group of buddies. Snape thought briefly about all of his classes and realized that not one of them contained a scrawny, dark haired outcast. Not one of them showed a young boy trying every day not to care about who was laughing at him, or when he'd next be bullied by another young wizard. Discomfort flooded over Severus' body as he began to feel as alone as he truly was. His eyes searched the room for life. Illogically hoping for some student to be breaking a rule somewhere in the back of his class room. Searching for something. Someone. Realizing he was completely alone, he felt, for the first time, that he would have really enjoyed some company. Anyone. Feeling vulnerable already, he let a few bad memories slip into his mind. However, these were of his teenage years. Remembering how James Potter and his cronies had tortured him. How all the students at Hogwarts had laughed. The anger Snape had felt, being so alone. Left to eat lunch by himself every day. Even the other students in his own house had outcasted him. Everyone had a different nick name for him. Everyone had a different reason to hate him. A silent sigh escaped his lips, that had seemed to be drained of all remaining colour.
It was lunch time. Severus knew he couldn't sit in his classroom all lunch hour, waiting for his students to return. Reluctantly, he made his way down to the staff room to get some lunch. As he entered the room, he felt the mixture of eyes darting away from him, trying not to stare for too long, and of other eyes that never even noticed his existance. The teacher's lounge was a slightly more polite version of his school days. "Hello, Severus," came a woman's voice from behind him.
"Hello, Minerva," he said cooly, trying to sound unaffected. She lingered for a moment, feeling obligated to say more. Wondering if she even should have said something in the first place. He helped her reach a decision, by moving quickly away from her. A few other teachers addressed him. Some even went as far as to make small talk about students or the weather. In these cases of fake interest, where the other teachers seemed desperate to oblige their guilty consciences and talk to Snape, he felt sarcasm was his most fierce weapon. He made sure not to wait too long, listening to them babbling on about subject that lacked all intelligence and importance. After making some snide remark, he would leave, feeling somewhat satisfied as he successfully made it to the lunch table and gathered some food. This was the day's daily routine. However, looking on the bright side, Snape's darkened feeling of lonliness began to lift as he realized how horrible most contact with the rest of the world really was. Perhaps he was meant to be alone. Maybe, he had always been an outcast because he had never found someone who he could relate to, or who could understand him. Though he felt this to be true, he began to eat his food, letting the subject flow from his mind. There was no point in feeling sorry for himself. Feeling angsty and misunderstood. He simply could not see the point in it, so he continued finishing his meal alone in silence.
As he ate, one last teacher approached his table. "Hey Snape. Food's good today, eh? So, nice weather we've been having . . . "