"What took you so long?" Wystaer asked suspiciously when Lucretia was shoved out the door.
"I got detention..." Lucretia replied quickly.
"Why for? You didn't do anything!" she said angrily. Lucretia fumbled with her thoughts for a moment. She couldn't think of anything.
Wystaer folded her arms and frowned, attempting a terribly unflattering Snape impression, "INSUBORDINATION!"
"Oh god!" Lucretia shrieked, and they burst into laughter as they walked down to the great hall for dinner.
It was normal for students to make fun of Snape behind his back, but it just didn't really feel right anymore. "He's not really that bad you know..." Wystaer said, twirling spaghetti with her fork.
Sicilia looked slightly confused, "Who?"
Wystaer, finishing slurping up her noodles said, "Professor Snape."
"He's so ugly and mean! I don't like him..." Sicilia shuddered.
"I don't think anyone does..." Luna Lovegood cut in.
"How could they? He's too scary."
Lucretia just stared at her silverware, pretending to be amused by the conversation.
"No, he can be a good guy. Like this one time--I was sitting in the common room and he passed through and actually ASKED me why I was there by myself. Isn't that incredible? And THEN he sat down with me and actually TALKED with me for a little bit!" Wystaer said.
Lucretia smiled, then looked around the hall.
Snape sat at the staff table, arguing with McGonnagal over something. Obviously, tempers were quick when one was unrested. She stared for what seemed two seconds in her mind, but it turned out to be two minutes in reality. "Quit staring at me, you freak!" said a Hufflepuff who sat in the direction she was looking. She narrowed her cat-like eyes dangerously. "I wasn't staring at you," She said, and laughed. "What's your problem?" the blonde Hufflepuff boy said, now standing. "You," she sneered, and promptly left for the Ravenclaw common room.
Of course, the Hufflepuff boy followed, with his gang of friends. They were known for their tight-knit family mob tendencies. If you insult one Hufflepuff, you insult them all. She could hear their footsteps. "Leave me alone," she said flatly. They kept moving. Lucretia whipped around to face them, some hair getting caught on her face, "Leave me alone." They moved in closer. A mousy looking girl from the group snarled, "Why don't you go wash your greasy hair or something, dirty goth!" They erupted with laughter. She promptly hexed the girl, leaving her brown hair melting off her head and falling around her shoulders. "At least I have hair," Lucretia said, "maybe next time you'll respect a simple request."
She left them huddling around the crying girl, to sit in the common room. She'd expect yet another detention soon enough.
"What has gotten into me lately?" she wondered to herself. "I seem to be looking for thrills. When will I be satisfied? Will I ever...?"
I sit in the garden, breathing the air, thick with ozone.
Mother left the hedge trimmers on the ground.
She is so beautiful, just like her flowers. I think she'd like one... I pick up the scissors far too large for my hands.
SNAP!
A snow-white rose, the sweetest of all, falls to the soil. I brush off the bumblebee still dying for a taste. I walk across the damp dirt to her, I pull gently on her dress.
"Mother, for you!" I say, presenting my token of appreciation and affection.
She frowns at me. What did I do wrong? Don't you like it? I cut it just for you—ouch. She hit me; I cry. Sent me to bed without supper. Screaming something about ruining her hard work.
My room's nothing special; the furniture is old. Flies buzz on the walls. I squash them with my fingers. Why? I don't know. I don't like them. They laugh at me. Bigger every day.
Father beats me again. I smell the whiskey on his breath. I feel numb this time. I know by now not to let myself weep.
The flies laugh.
STOP!
I've run away. I'm so big now, my legs feel too long. My fingers are sticks. I look into a black stream.
A reflection is there--my father? No, my face. Who am I?
The water ripples like butterflies in summer. The stream swells, a white angel rises; The river her veil. Shades to hide her habits.
Oh, how I long to swim!
Her endless waves, flirting and splashing, swallow me up. I take her inside; my chest is a temple.
I never thought... how lovely it would be... to drown...
Severus awoke from the dream, startled at the sheer bizarre quality. For just a moment it seemed real, but then he remembered he was in his bed. Turning over, he saw Lucretia, soft curves lit by the pale moonlight. He thought she looked so ...cute? dressed in one of his old pinstriped shirts, far too large for her, purring softly in serene sleep. He held her close, like a precious treasure threatened to be taken away. All he had was the present time, as she often said, and he tried his best to make the most of it.
