NOTES: I don't own the character Severus Snape he is copyrighted to JK
Rowling the author of the Harry Potter Books, I'm just borrowing him ^_^
I use British spellings not American so I'm afraid you will have to live
with it "color" being spelt with a u in =) A 1000 word short story from
young Snape's life. I don't know how old he is here kind of young five
maybe? This idea might have been done before so apologized but mine has a
slight twist hehehe....
Smell of Lavender. By WerewolfGirl
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All the noise had stopped downstairs a door had slammed and there was no more muffled shouting to be heard that was the signal that it was safe to come out now. I ferreted for a moment to get out from under my navy bed sheets before pausing for my usual check to make sure everything had gone quiet. When ever the shouting did start this was the best place to hide, the duvet blocked most of the sound out and it smelt of musty lavender; anything Mummy washed had a smell of lavender to it. I think she likes the smell of it she had made a vase of lovely blue sprigs of Blue Lavender mixed with sprigs of Rosemary with its pale flowers it sat in the middle of the kitchen table, it made Dad sneeze last night at dinner when he leant over to get the bottle of wine.
I slid gently off my bed and tip toed to my open doorway and took a few cautions steps over the hall being careful not to make the floorboards creak, check through the wooden banisters of the stairs to check in case there was anyone in the hall way. You have to be careful going down the stairs even in socks the wood still makes a sound and the door slam might not have been from the front door or the back door. On the last step I stretched out my foot to step onto the soft rug before allowing the other foot to go next to it so I didn't lose my balance, I was very good at creeping I was like Kneazle Man from my favourite comic, he could slid in anywhere like baddies hideouts or government buildings. I wish I could be like him tall and strong with brown hair and good looking when he is not in his super hero outfit, but I'm small with black hair and my nose looked like Daddy's but only smaller plus I was only a kid.
There was somebody crying in the living room and there was a tinkling noise accompanying it, curiously I stepped quietly over and peered around the white door frame into the living room. There amongst the simple furniture was a woman kneeling down on the floor with her back towards the door where I stood, she had long dark hair it was slightly unkempt with a few spray wisps of hair sticking in a disorderly fashion over her hunched shoulders and had a dull shine from the grease in it. Some shards of glass that littered the floor where jumping up into the air as it repaired it's self into small glass bottles with silver tops and uniformly lined themselves up on a small table they where usually kept on. A thin brown wand held in a trembling hand supervised the mending operation of the bottles, the liquid that had once been inside of them left dark patches on the carpeted floor as the fibres greedily sucked up the bottles contents and mixed them together, it was useless to try and get the fluid back in the bottles. "Mummy?" I called in a quiet voice and it made her jump as though my call had physically pushed her, she turned her head quickly to look at me. Behind the curtain of dark lank hair I could see the large red mark across the side of her face that was already swelling and darkening into a bruise, her dark coloured eyes where red from the tears and now quickly using the sleeve of her blue woollen jacket to wipe them giving me a weak smile. She always had that sad smile since I can remember, a smile that never showed her teeth, no big toothy happy smile like she had in a photo above the fireplace from when she and Daddy had had their wedding. But when I told her that one night at bedtime the next morning the photo was missing, it was sad really she was very beautiful in that picture in her white dress and Daddy was very handsome too and both where very happy. But how did that red mark get on Mummy's face? Maybe she hurt herself by walking into something like she did a month ago, but the door had hurt her arm, so what could she have walked into that would hit her face?
"Be careful where you stand there are still bits of glass and damp patches on the carpet." She warned in her soft mouse voice in the kind of tone like she was scared of me, as if I will start shouting or do something. I don't shout, I'm not allowed to it disturbs Daddy when he is working on his potions and Mummy likes it at times when it's quiet. "I'll be making dinner shortly; I'll call when it's ready"
She turned her head away from me and looked down at the floor tapping her wand sharply on one of the wet areas as soapy bubbles appeared over it and used the ruined tablecloth to scrub it. That was my indication to leave; she wasn't looking at me anymore she wanted to be by herself. Every time after they shouted they always wanted to be alone, Daddy would either go out of the house or go to his study and Mum either went into the garden or some quiet place in the house. I had to play anywhere they won't disturb them for a while.
I don't know why they argue maybe it is Daddy's work; he always tired when he comes home. But I notice Mummy has small glasses of drink that is only meant for adults when ever he isn't home and thinks I'm not watching and it makes her different. She gets jumpy and is easy to upset and is very quiet, I like her better when she is smiling and playing with me but she doesn't do that much now.
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NOTE: Yes his Mummy is an alcoholic, everyone expects men to be it but I thought it would be nice to show it affects woman as well. As for the shouting the father of course is frustrated with his wife's behaviour but doesn't know how to help her. Both are embarrassed to admit there is a problem especially around their young son ... but I guess you clever people wouldn't need to have read this note to figure that out =) R&R
Smell of Lavender. By WerewolfGirl
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All the noise had stopped downstairs a door had slammed and there was no more muffled shouting to be heard that was the signal that it was safe to come out now. I ferreted for a moment to get out from under my navy bed sheets before pausing for my usual check to make sure everything had gone quiet. When ever the shouting did start this was the best place to hide, the duvet blocked most of the sound out and it smelt of musty lavender; anything Mummy washed had a smell of lavender to it. I think she likes the smell of it she had made a vase of lovely blue sprigs of Blue Lavender mixed with sprigs of Rosemary with its pale flowers it sat in the middle of the kitchen table, it made Dad sneeze last night at dinner when he leant over to get the bottle of wine.
I slid gently off my bed and tip toed to my open doorway and took a few cautions steps over the hall being careful not to make the floorboards creak, check through the wooden banisters of the stairs to check in case there was anyone in the hall way. You have to be careful going down the stairs even in socks the wood still makes a sound and the door slam might not have been from the front door or the back door. On the last step I stretched out my foot to step onto the soft rug before allowing the other foot to go next to it so I didn't lose my balance, I was very good at creeping I was like Kneazle Man from my favourite comic, he could slid in anywhere like baddies hideouts or government buildings. I wish I could be like him tall and strong with brown hair and good looking when he is not in his super hero outfit, but I'm small with black hair and my nose looked like Daddy's but only smaller plus I was only a kid.
There was somebody crying in the living room and there was a tinkling noise accompanying it, curiously I stepped quietly over and peered around the white door frame into the living room. There amongst the simple furniture was a woman kneeling down on the floor with her back towards the door where I stood, she had long dark hair it was slightly unkempt with a few spray wisps of hair sticking in a disorderly fashion over her hunched shoulders and had a dull shine from the grease in it. Some shards of glass that littered the floor where jumping up into the air as it repaired it's self into small glass bottles with silver tops and uniformly lined themselves up on a small table they where usually kept on. A thin brown wand held in a trembling hand supervised the mending operation of the bottles, the liquid that had once been inside of them left dark patches on the carpeted floor as the fibres greedily sucked up the bottles contents and mixed them together, it was useless to try and get the fluid back in the bottles. "Mummy?" I called in a quiet voice and it made her jump as though my call had physically pushed her, she turned her head quickly to look at me. Behind the curtain of dark lank hair I could see the large red mark across the side of her face that was already swelling and darkening into a bruise, her dark coloured eyes where red from the tears and now quickly using the sleeve of her blue woollen jacket to wipe them giving me a weak smile. She always had that sad smile since I can remember, a smile that never showed her teeth, no big toothy happy smile like she had in a photo above the fireplace from when she and Daddy had had their wedding. But when I told her that one night at bedtime the next morning the photo was missing, it was sad really she was very beautiful in that picture in her white dress and Daddy was very handsome too and both where very happy. But how did that red mark get on Mummy's face? Maybe she hurt herself by walking into something like she did a month ago, but the door had hurt her arm, so what could she have walked into that would hit her face?
"Be careful where you stand there are still bits of glass and damp patches on the carpet." She warned in her soft mouse voice in the kind of tone like she was scared of me, as if I will start shouting or do something. I don't shout, I'm not allowed to it disturbs Daddy when he is working on his potions and Mummy likes it at times when it's quiet. "I'll be making dinner shortly; I'll call when it's ready"
She turned her head away from me and looked down at the floor tapping her wand sharply on one of the wet areas as soapy bubbles appeared over it and used the ruined tablecloth to scrub it. That was my indication to leave; she wasn't looking at me anymore she wanted to be by herself. Every time after they shouted they always wanted to be alone, Daddy would either go out of the house or go to his study and Mum either went into the garden or some quiet place in the house. I had to play anywhere they won't disturb them for a while.
I don't know why they argue maybe it is Daddy's work; he always tired when he comes home. But I notice Mummy has small glasses of drink that is only meant for adults when ever he isn't home and thinks I'm not watching and it makes her different. She gets jumpy and is easy to upset and is very quiet, I like her better when she is smiling and playing with me but she doesn't do that much now.
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NOTE: Yes his Mummy is an alcoholic, everyone expects men to be it but I thought it would be nice to show it affects woman as well. As for the shouting the father of course is frustrated with his wife's behaviour but doesn't know how to help her. Both are embarrassed to admit there is a problem especially around their young son ... but I guess you clever people wouldn't need to have read this note to figure that out =) R&R