Series - Runes of the Serpent
Chapter II - Freedom of the Void
Severus had inconspicuously collected anything that he would possibly need from the house in Cheapside over the Christmas holidays... it was a rare event that he went home any time that it wasn't absolutely necessary, but he judged that if he was to avoid returning in July, he had best gather up things early and store them at Hogwarts till further notice. Of course, Luther Snape hadn't taken the slightest notice of his son leaving with loads more than he had come with. Nearly every item in his bedroom had been packed in various trunks and sacks, never to see 14 Sunninghill Road again.
His personal floor and shelf space in the dormitory that he shared with Rosier, Lestrange, Wilkes, and Avery was virtually covered. No one thought to question it... inquisitive concern was a lacking element in this particular group of students' friendship. Snape thought all the better of the relationship for it.
It was now late in January, the ancient castle chill, grey, and more academically stifling than usual with the upcoming midterm examinations close at hand. It was a period of sombre and arduous studying for Severus and many of his classmates. On this particular Saturday afternoon, however, his mind strayed temporarily from his Early Social Reform Attempts on Goblins essay for History of Magic and the recently deceased Professor Binns. He had some formulating plans of what to do with himself once the summer holidays started and he didn't return to his father's house...
It would have been ideal if he had had the chance to simply remain at Hogwarts over the summer, even with the lack of company. He didn't mind solitude by any means. Severus would have had the ample time to spend days on end in the library and dungeons, free of anyone to enforce discipline other than the occasional corridor-wandering caretaker. But this would most certainly induce questions, both from pupils and the Headmaster. He also could have requested lodging with a friend, but that felt somehow inappropriate and uncomfortable. But both of these options involved dependency on another's goodwill. Severus distinctly hated that.
The most feasible arrangement that Severus could comprehend at the moment, what with everything else he'd had to worry about, was that he should take the Hogwarts Express back to London, but rather make his way to The Leaky Cauldron. He could scour Diagon and Knockturn Alleys for an opening somewhere... for he realized that with the lack of his father's government financial aide, he'd need something to live off of. It was fortunate that the tuition for this year at least had been paid up front in full in September (before Luther had had the opportunity to drink it). Maybe if he worked enough for a well-off enough store, they'd at least provide for a room at the Leaky Cauldron and his tuition. After all, it was only a year earlier than he had expected to be completely out on his own. He'd have had to deal with this sooner or later.
Severus desperately hoped that this would work out as best it could. He'd much prefer a spot in Knockturn if he could help it... there'd be much less chance of running into taunting classmates.
Severus caught sight of Rosier making his way through the throngs of students and massive, black leather furniture that was spread rather haphazardly throughout the low, long, narrow common room. "Here to draw me into another Quidditch match, are you, Evan?" he tried to say with a tone of amusement, but it was through closed teeth.
"Certainly even a great depressing bore such as yourself has to admit that a little fresh air is healthy here and there!"
Truthfully, Snape preferred the cool, windowless quiet of the dungeons, but didn't say so. "Who's playing?" he asked.
Rosier looked entirely disgusted. "I understand that you don't follow the pro league, but can't you even keep up with your own school?"
"What? Is Slytherin playing today?"
"No, you prat. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw."
"Then what do I care for it? You might try opening a Charms book every decade or two."
Rosier waved it off. "But if Gryffindor wins this match they'll be only a victory short of Slytherin! If Ravenclaw pulls ahead to second, we can surely beat them in the Cup!"
"Brilliant. You can inform me of every thrilling detail after the game."
It appeared that Rosier would not take no for an answer. If Severus had not been so tired, he would have had the usual energy for a struggle, but, as it was, he gave in, submitting himself to the bitter cold that he would undoubtedly face in the outdoors. Besides, even he was becoming uninterested in his own backward sullenness. On their ascent from the depths of Hogwarts, Rosier launched into a one-sided discussion of tactics and both sides' chances of victory. Severus largely ignored him. Evan didn't actually admit that he was a rabid fan of Quidditch... it was rather superficial for someone who considered himself a Dark Wizard in the making, after all. He did listen to every professional Appleby Arrows / Wimbourne Wasps game on his contraband WWN, however. There was no question that if he ever been given the chance to play on the Slytherin team, he'd have taken it, revelling in the ensuing popularity. It was really very sickening. It was really very sickening how transparent he was. Severus didn't care for the excitement of the sport much... his prime interest was the crushing of Gryffindor, something which hadn't been occurring often enough for his taste lately.
The walk down the frosted grounds of Hogwarts was a noisy one. Students poured out of the castle from every orifice it seemed, making for the pitch. Severus hated crowds and he frowned as they were swept down the slopes in the chattering hosts of temporarily liberated pupils. A throng of young, giggling Hufflepuff girls bumped into him rather violently from behind, but they took no notice. He especially scowled when he caught a snippet of their tittering conversation. It particularly highlighted the dashing charm and good looks of one Mr. Sirius Black. He'd choose to ignore that.
Severus avoided listening to the prevalent talk that surrounded the "legendary wonders" of Black. It was perfectly ridiculous: all the hype that featured him and Potter. But since the beginning of 6th Year, even Severus had noticed the growing obsession that girls of all ages and Houses seemed to have for the Gryffindor. He would not have been greatly surprised if there had been a fan club established in his honour. Wilkes had nearly lost his mind of rage when he observed his newly acquired girlfriend eying Black for a few seconds too long in Potions class. Severus realised with a cringe that if either Potter or Black managed to pull off some fantastic stunt in today's Quidditch game, it would only become that much worse.
Blue and red banners waved in various areas of the stadium as they entered and found a seat in the relatively neutral green section of stands, dotted sporadically with blue eagle pennants. The January wind was sub-freezing and immediately seemed to sandblast his face of all moisture and warmth that had been there to begin with, although it certainly added an amount of colour, which may or may have not been an improvement, depending upon the opinion. Severus glanced at the two-dimensional steel grey sky and couldn't decide whether he felt claustrophobically confined under the close matte ceiling, or infinitely small when considering the endless space that lay just beyond it. Either way, he hadn't the time to consider further, for a sonorous voice exploded in the ears of the gathered students.
"Welcome, Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and Slytherins, to the 13th Quidditch game of the season! The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw teams are vying for the points here today!" Severus jogged his memory for the elusive name of the announcer, a Hufflepuff. Fletcher. Something Fletcher. It didn't matter.
Severus watched the white, billowing figure of black-haired, golden-eyed Madam Hooch stride onto the pitch. She reverently set the chest which encased the four Quidditch balls in the centre circle as fourteen more figures entered the oblong field. There were deafening cheers from either end of the stadium. Severus didn't need the aide of the newly invented and wildly popular Omnioculars to make out the identities of those down on the field. Potter looked overly serious, jaw grindingly set, face pinched against the cold. Black did not share his friend's solemnity of the sacred game and grinned openly, jauntily carrying his broom over his shoulder. He nearly found himself listening for the inevitable intake of breath from every female in the vicinity, although the howling wind did not bring it to his ears if there had indeed been one.
"Madam Hooch voices her expectations... and... there's the whistle! She launches the Quaffle and this game has begun!" Fletcher shouted from the highest vantage box.
There was a confusing swirl of colour as numerous broomsticks and players rocketed into the air, a confusion so as to almost result in a mesh of purple.
"Geoff Flynn of Ravenclaw takes the Quaffle and makes for the Gryffindor goal posts!" He made a hiss of anxiety. "A strategically hit Bludger from Wessex nearly takes his head off there! That looked like a broken jaw in the making! North intercepts the ball for Gryffindor! He's passed it to Black and... Black takes a risky charge for the goal... Ravenclaw captain Will Brody saves the play! No point to Gryffindor!"
The game continued at much the same pace for an hour until Severus vaguely realised that he could no longer move his toes. "A sad slip for Keeper Gwen Nott! Ten points to Ravenclaw! That brings the score to 70-40, Ravenclaw. Captain Potter takes the toss in Quaffle for Gryffindor... no, Ravenclaw ball... no, Gryffindor... Potter intercepts the pass and he's speeding down... oh! Bludger in the side! From the direction of McCoy, I'd say! Good God, he's still got the Quaffle! He passes to Black. Black to North. North to Potter... he scores! 70-50! An incredible tactic from Gryffindor!"
Severus wouldn't have minded in the least the game if it hadn't been so damned cold. He'd sat through games five times as long before. No one else complained though, and Severus suffered through the needles of ice that seemed to be piercing his feet. He found it hard to believe that he would return to the castle and not find his lower half entirely frostbitten, although his reasonable side told him it wasn't so. "Wait! It looks as though Ravenclaw Arthur Severn's seen the Snitch! He's speeding toward the Ravenclaw goalposts... Farrelly leaves her aerial orbit above the pitch and takes a steep dive! She's catching him up! That Nimbus 1500 will outrun a Shooting Star any day! There's the flash of gold... they're just level pegging... Charlotte Farrelly captures the Golden Snitch for a Gryffindor victory! Gryffindor wins! 200-70!"
Much later that night, Severus occupied his thoughts staring at the ceiling above his bed in the subterranean Slytherin dormitories. The Gryffindor triumph had been disappointing to be sure. The resulting celebrations in the Great Hall had been less than enjoyable for the blue and green House tables. Severus absently wondered, while toying with a corner of his quilt between two fingers, about a specific remark from Sirius in the Entrance Hall before everyone retired. He had said that Snape was jealous, that everyone could see it. It had been a preposterous notion at the time, but now Severus asked himself the same question. For a moment, there was a rush of revelation and maybe fear in his veins... perhaps he was. But Severus had become an expert in the art admittance followed shortly by denial. He considered the matter and allowed himself to come to terms with the fact that there may indeed have been a twinge of jealously. Severus thought for a moment and decided that it was to his credit to have realised and fought out the weakness. Realising one's weaknesses would help in overcoming them. Severus added yet another point to his mental list of resolutions and vowed to, thereafter, not envy Potter or Black, but simply hate them all the more for causing him the shame in the first place. Looking at the concave, lacklustre, stone ceiling above him, he was strongly reminded of the cloudy sky from some hours previous. Whereas he hadn't been able to determine the reaction he had derived from the feeling earlier, he now felt distinctly closed in. Severus drove his consciousness to contemplate the black void that stretched out beyond the walls of this world. The void. Nothing but distant sparks of remote stars, no hindrances. The idea was slightly disturbing... no grounding, no up or down... and yet somehow enticing.