The Golden Snape
" . . . [The Goldnen Snitch] is bewitched to evade capture as long as possible. There is a tale that a Golden Snitch evaded capture for six months on Bodmin Moor in 1884, both teams finally giving up in disgust at their Seekers' poor performances. Cornish wizards familiar with the area insist to this day that the Snitch is still living wild on the moor . . ." (1)
(1) Quoted from "Quidditch Through the Ages," Kennilworthy Whisp [J.K. Rowling] 2001, Scholastic Press. Page 23
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Professor Snape pursed his lips and listened to the cheering around him. Gryffindor again. Two hundred ten points to Slytherin's sixty. It had been a tie, up until that Potter boy had caught the Snitch. Again.
Snape stood and threaded his way through the knot of spectators, those both happy and disappointed, back to the castle. He could still hear the rumbling cheers. McGonagall was probably dancing over the lastest Slytherin defeat . . .
Snape changed into his nightshirt and flopped onto his bed. "Potter," he sniffed, and droped off to sleep.
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On the dark Quidditch field there was dead silence. A young black-haired wizard stood on the pitch, a broomstick in his hand. He swung a leg over the broom and soared into the air. The young Severus Snape performed a perfect Double Eight Loop around the goal hoops, then pulled the broom to a stop. The blinding sun came up and he threw his arm over his eyes.
In the stands hundreds of hissing and booing children jeered at him. On the pitch itself, four dark shadows gestured at him. Snape suddenly found himself far from the golden hoops; indeed he was barely six feet off the ground. The four shadows were students who jumped and grabbed at him. Snape tried to fly, fly higher! But they kept pulling him toward the ground. Snape was fearfully looking around.
There! A tall, white building without windows. Snape dragged his broom away from his tormenters, but was still unable to fly high enough to fully escape them. No matter! There was the second story window. His broom was no longer in his hands. The young Snape turned and stood at the window which was now as big as the opening to a parking garage. Below, a huge dog shook a ragged broom to pieces. A hand grabbed his ankle! The other three were jumping and scrambling to get at Snape's feet. He turned and ran through the dark maze of the building, lost and unsure, until he felt a breeze blow on his face.
Snape was on the roof of the white, block building. Again he looked over the edge. High voices wheedled him, "Snivellus! Snivellus! Come and play! Come play!"
No. NO! His fear was giving was to anger. The Golden Snitch zipped by him. His broom was in his hand!
Snape leapt off the building, zooming over the green grasses, his sleeve carelessly swerving and scooping up the Snitch. He was standing on the pitch, with pride and delight! His upraised hands held a Golden Snitch each. One sat dutifully, wings buzzing, golden and shining but not flying away. In the other, a wild Snitch, greyed and intent on escape.
Snape stared. Slytherin had won! 300 extra points--no one had ever caught TWO Snitches before!! The cheering crowd was wild, pouring down to greeting him! Harry was standing there smiling at him, beaming shared triumph. Snape closed his eyes, letting his joy wash over him. . .
Snape's eyes slid open to a ray of morning light shining on his face.
His broom rested silently, propped in the corner.