----------Paper Airplanes, Makeshift Wings
--------------------by Ziggy Pop Eno
--------------------------------------Chapter One: On The Staircase
Disclaimer/AN----I own nothing. I do not claim to own anything. I am making no money from this. Story title is from a song by AFI. As far as I have researched, JKR has not specified Prof. Sinistra's gender, or much of anything pertaining to him/her, for that matter. So, this was totally my own idea.
----- From his eagle's nest high atop the astronomy tower, Professor Sinistra's eyes could be felt, looking down at students on the schools grounds during the day, looking up at celestial bodies during the night. His eyes were more often felt then seen—his was an all-pervading presence at Hogwarts; The professor was elusive to those outside Ravenclaw House (of which he was head), but his watchful telescope eyes were known for their not-so-casual observation. The astronomy tower was visible from nearly every window at Hogwarts—which, perhaps, was why the students characterized Sinistra with a silent, watchful personality, like that of his tower.
His full title was actually Dr. Apollo Bade Sinistra, since he held a rare doctorate in astronomy—but he hardly ever made note of it. His students knew him as simply 'Sinistra,' or the occasional 'Professor,' although even that was too stuffy for his tastes. Apollo was more elusive then many of the professors at the Hogwarts—sometimes, students who weren't taught by him didn't even recognize him.
You could see him at meal and functions, or gliding through the hallways, inevitably headed back towards his tower. He cut a striking figure, and had caught the eye of more then a few of his fellow professors (and his students), both male and female, although he never acted on any advances. He was over six feet tall, long-boned, thin, and pale, with power shoulders and a delicately boned face. The fine, lean body was emphasized by long, clingy layered robes in gray and white, which had a kimono-like quality of adding grace to his tall frame. His onyx black hair fell straight to his waist, and was usually pulled back loosely, a veil of stray strands whipping about his face and shoulders. Thin, arched eyebrows emphasized curious sky-blue eyes, and a single earring, a silver sickle moon, hung on a long chain from his right lobe. Over all, Sinistra was the type of beautiful, wan, romantic type that nearly all have, in one way or another. If such a person is not present, the minds of lonely, repressed students will instill someone they know with these qualities in their minds. Considering the often dismal atmosphere that hung over students, particularly in the winter months, and Hogwarts' lack of any darkly glamorous faculty member (although Snape had a small following among the older Slytherins) it is not surprising that Apollo Sinistra came to represent all he did—not only to students, but to staff as well.
----- It was very early in the morning, with stray bits of light scattered about the Ravenclaw common room. Their common room and dormitories were a few hidden rooms in the Hogwart's east wing. The large, gothic windows that lined one side of the library-esque room looked out over the school grounds, and various antique wooden tables and plush couches populated the room, as well as a baby grand piano in one corner. A few early-risers, mostly over achieving seventh-years, noticed an unusual sight—the dark figure of their housemaster sitting on a couch, gazing into the blaze in the fireplace. This was unusual for the head of a house—usually the teachers kept to their own quarters and avoided the places students socialized. That was just how a respectful distance between teacher and student was maintained.
As anti-social as Sinistra tended to be around his fellow teachers, he had always been close to his students and his Ravenclaws. He didn't actively seek any of them out, usually, as that was against his nature, but let them know that he was approachable and always willing to lend an ear. He thought, with spite, of how distant and cold many of the other teachers at Hogwarts were—Dumbledore being the exception.
Finishing his tea, Sinistra stood and headed out of the common room, smiling at the few students who had trickled in on his way out. The back of the statue that guarded the room rolled away as he approached, and he stepped out into the corridor. The empty porcelain tea cup in one hand, the dark professor headed towards a staircase, intending to return the cup to the kitchen. He knew that the house elves would have collected it later if he had left in the common room, but all the good manners he had learned during his ridged upbringing still compelled him not to be messy and return it himself. Sinistra was an early riser, anyhow—he had time before breakfast.
----- Walking up the long, dark staircase, Snape paused to notice another figure at the top of it, slowly moving its way down, towards him. Unhappy at the thought of having to possibly make small talk with another teacher, he frowned and focused on the distant figure, trying to distinguish who it was. After a moment it came to him—it was Professor Sinistra. Ah, well, that wasn't too bad. He didn't particularly mind that one—the man kept to himself, and wasn't too arrogant or a brownnoser. Snape had often wondered about Astronomy—it was similar to Potions in that it required a delicate mixture of observation, magic, science, and art. Of course, he'd never inquired about it, and didn't intend to anytime soon.
Snape couldn't help but think with a small smirk on his face that if it weren't for himself, Apollo Sinistra might have been the darkest figure at Hogwarts. He knew less about the puzzling professor then he did about muggles...although he did remember having an interesting discussion with him once about the use of psychology in the Dark Arts.
"It's the belief," Sinistra had said, "that is truly critical to Dark wizards. It is not whether or not their magic is powerful, but whether or not people believe it is powerful."
How true. In fact, Snape himself had used that very theory to shape much of his teaching methods. A fearful demeanor, in many ways, demanded respect.
The man continued to ascend as Sinistra descended. A loose black hood was thrown casually over the back of the astronomy professor's head, his gathered hair draping forward over one shoulder as he spun some small object around one finger. Snape brushed past him lightly, not smiling but not scowling either. He stopped as a small crash of shattered glass came from beside his foot.
------ Looking at the broken porcelain pieces of the tea cup, Sinistra sighed. How aggravating and unlike him. He usually made a point to be careful with delicate things, owing to his years of work with delicate telescopes and other instruments. He glanced up at the other person on the stairs, standing across from him—it was Professor Snape. Sinistra hadn't really looked at him, but somehow he'd known. As he'd passed Snape, some odd shiver had run up his spine, causing him to drop the cup. It was something he couldn't say he'd experienced before.
Sinistra took his eyes away, bending down to pick up the pieces without saying anything. It had been an accident, no need to get caught up in cordiality and polite "Oh, allow me"s. However, he heard Severus silently bend down to help him, without being asked.
"Whatever were you doing running around with an empty teacup, anyway, Apollo?" the man asked him with a rare twinge of amusement in his voice.
Apollo smirked up at Severus slightly. "I was planning on dropping it so you'd be forced to come to my rescue—lord knows I can't face broken porcelain by myself. Now that you've figured out my plan, I'm thoroughly embarrassed," he replied sardonically, in his husky voice.
Snape snorted. "I'll pretend it never happened if you don't go around telling people that I actually stopped to help you," he said dryly, rolling his eyes. Gathering up the remaining pieces in one hand, he pulled out his wand with the other and they disappeared with a quick tap. Sinistra help out his own shards, and Snape did the same for those, hooking his wand back into his belt.
Apollo peered at a finger, where a tiny rivulet of blood was forming from a small cut, undoubtedly from the broken glass. He raised the finger to his mouth to suck the blood away, and continued down the stairs with just a nod and a slight smile in Snape's direction.
Narrowing his eyes out of either suspicion or curiosity, Snape continued on his way as well, his mind still lingering on the way that tiny bit of blood had been so casually licked away.
--------------------by Ziggy Pop Eno
--------------------------------------Chapter One: On The Staircase
Disclaimer/AN----I own nothing. I do not claim to own anything. I am making no money from this. Story title is from a song by AFI. As far as I have researched, JKR has not specified Prof. Sinistra's gender, or much of anything pertaining to him/her, for that matter. So, this was totally my own idea.
----- From his eagle's nest high atop the astronomy tower, Professor Sinistra's eyes could be felt, looking down at students on the schools grounds during the day, looking up at celestial bodies during the night. His eyes were more often felt then seen—his was an all-pervading presence at Hogwarts; The professor was elusive to those outside Ravenclaw House (of which he was head), but his watchful telescope eyes were known for their not-so-casual observation. The astronomy tower was visible from nearly every window at Hogwarts—which, perhaps, was why the students characterized Sinistra with a silent, watchful personality, like that of his tower.
His full title was actually Dr. Apollo Bade Sinistra, since he held a rare doctorate in astronomy—but he hardly ever made note of it. His students knew him as simply 'Sinistra,' or the occasional 'Professor,' although even that was too stuffy for his tastes. Apollo was more elusive then many of the professors at the Hogwarts—sometimes, students who weren't taught by him didn't even recognize him.
You could see him at meal and functions, or gliding through the hallways, inevitably headed back towards his tower. He cut a striking figure, and had caught the eye of more then a few of his fellow professors (and his students), both male and female, although he never acted on any advances. He was over six feet tall, long-boned, thin, and pale, with power shoulders and a delicately boned face. The fine, lean body was emphasized by long, clingy layered robes in gray and white, which had a kimono-like quality of adding grace to his tall frame. His onyx black hair fell straight to his waist, and was usually pulled back loosely, a veil of stray strands whipping about his face and shoulders. Thin, arched eyebrows emphasized curious sky-blue eyes, and a single earring, a silver sickle moon, hung on a long chain from his right lobe. Over all, Sinistra was the type of beautiful, wan, romantic type that nearly all have, in one way or another. If such a person is not present, the minds of lonely, repressed students will instill someone they know with these qualities in their minds. Considering the often dismal atmosphere that hung over students, particularly in the winter months, and Hogwarts' lack of any darkly glamorous faculty member (although Snape had a small following among the older Slytherins) it is not surprising that Apollo Sinistra came to represent all he did—not only to students, but to staff as well.
----- It was very early in the morning, with stray bits of light scattered about the Ravenclaw common room. Their common room and dormitories were a few hidden rooms in the Hogwart's east wing. The large, gothic windows that lined one side of the library-esque room looked out over the school grounds, and various antique wooden tables and plush couches populated the room, as well as a baby grand piano in one corner. A few early-risers, mostly over achieving seventh-years, noticed an unusual sight—the dark figure of their housemaster sitting on a couch, gazing into the blaze in the fireplace. This was unusual for the head of a house—usually the teachers kept to their own quarters and avoided the places students socialized. That was just how a respectful distance between teacher and student was maintained.
As anti-social as Sinistra tended to be around his fellow teachers, he had always been close to his students and his Ravenclaws. He didn't actively seek any of them out, usually, as that was against his nature, but let them know that he was approachable and always willing to lend an ear. He thought, with spite, of how distant and cold many of the other teachers at Hogwarts were—Dumbledore being the exception.
Finishing his tea, Sinistra stood and headed out of the common room, smiling at the few students who had trickled in on his way out. The back of the statue that guarded the room rolled away as he approached, and he stepped out into the corridor. The empty porcelain tea cup in one hand, the dark professor headed towards a staircase, intending to return the cup to the kitchen. He knew that the house elves would have collected it later if he had left in the common room, but all the good manners he had learned during his ridged upbringing still compelled him not to be messy and return it himself. Sinistra was an early riser, anyhow—he had time before breakfast.
----- Walking up the long, dark staircase, Snape paused to notice another figure at the top of it, slowly moving its way down, towards him. Unhappy at the thought of having to possibly make small talk with another teacher, he frowned and focused on the distant figure, trying to distinguish who it was. After a moment it came to him—it was Professor Sinistra. Ah, well, that wasn't too bad. He didn't particularly mind that one—the man kept to himself, and wasn't too arrogant or a brownnoser. Snape had often wondered about Astronomy—it was similar to Potions in that it required a delicate mixture of observation, magic, science, and art. Of course, he'd never inquired about it, and didn't intend to anytime soon.
Snape couldn't help but think with a small smirk on his face that if it weren't for himself, Apollo Sinistra might have been the darkest figure at Hogwarts. He knew less about the puzzling professor then he did about muggles...although he did remember having an interesting discussion with him once about the use of psychology in the Dark Arts.
"It's the belief," Sinistra had said, "that is truly critical to Dark wizards. It is not whether or not their magic is powerful, but whether or not people believe it is powerful."
How true. In fact, Snape himself had used that very theory to shape much of his teaching methods. A fearful demeanor, in many ways, demanded respect.
The man continued to ascend as Sinistra descended. A loose black hood was thrown casually over the back of the astronomy professor's head, his gathered hair draping forward over one shoulder as he spun some small object around one finger. Snape brushed past him lightly, not smiling but not scowling either. He stopped as a small crash of shattered glass came from beside his foot.
------ Looking at the broken porcelain pieces of the tea cup, Sinistra sighed. How aggravating and unlike him. He usually made a point to be careful with delicate things, owing to his years of work with delicate telescopes and other instruments. He glanced up at the other person on the stairs, standing across from him—it was Professor Snape. Sinistra hadn't really looked at him, but somehow he'd known. As he'd passed Snape, some odd shiver had run up his spine, causing him to drop the cup. It was something he couldn't say he'd experienced before.
Sinistra took his eyes away, bending down to pick up the pieces without saying anything. It had been an accident, no need to get caught up in cordiality and polite "Oh, allow me"s. However, he heard Severus silently bend down to help him, without being asked.
"Whatever were you doing running around with an empty teacup, anyway, Apollo?" the man asked him with a rare twinge of amusement in his voice.
Apollo smirked up at Severus slightly. "I was planning on dropping it so you'd be forced to come to my rescue—lord knows I can't face broken porcelain by myself. Now that you've figured out my plan, I'm thoroughly embarrassed," he replied sardonically, in his husky voice.
Snape snorted. "I'll pretend it never happened if you don't go around telling people that I actually stopped to help you," he said dryly, rolling his eyes. Gathering up the remaining pieces in one hand, he pulled out his wand with the other and they disappeared with a quick tap. Sinistra help out his own shards, and Snape did the same for those, hooking his wand back into his belt.
Apollo peered at a finger, where a tiny rivulet of blood was forming from a small cut, undoubtedly from the broken glass. He raised the finger to his mouth to suck the blood away, and continued down the stairs with just a nod and a slight smile in Snape's direction.
Narrowing his eyes out of either suspicion or curiosity, Snape continued on his way as well, his mind still lingering on the way that tiny bit of blood had been so casually licked away.