the early autumn

a fic by jack it up judy

disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters created by the infamous J.K. Might I make it quite clear, however, that if I did own them, I would most certainly not be writing on

a shoreline perspective:

The leaves fell in slightly awkward patterns across the grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Their colors seemed to shimmer slightly as they languidly floated to the earth in the sunlight of a mid-August afternoon. In a matter of weeks, the students would crowd into the castle, clamoring along through the corridors and bringing with them their inane laughter and volumes of useless conversation; but, for now, all was quiet throughout the school. The only echoes that sounded were from the few ghosts that drifted throughout the school, and the rest of the staff but, of course, the professors were generally quiet anyway.

This quiet blanketed the entire grounds, as though they were holding their breath until the students finally arrived. The fog had cleared from the lake and the warm air suggested that, perhaps, if they, the children, would come back right now, it would retain the last warmth of summer for just a bit longer. Along the shore of the lake, a man walked in somber silence and was lost within himself. He searched the profound depths of his psyche for something to bring him back to the surface so that he might prepare himself for the coming of the children, and the end to what little solace he had left. For once they returned, his guard would be running at full force once more, and this sanctuary that the headmaster had provided him for so many years would be as equally dangerous as the world lingering outside of the gates.

His long, pallid fingers ran through his dark hair and his downcast eyes closed in frustration. His heart nearly sank to the bottom of the lake to intertwine its sinews with the weeds. He thought intently upon the numb anger in his stomach. His complexion paled as he recalled Potter's embarrassing glimpse into his past. Had his suffering not been enough? It was painful enough to think upon those years so long ago, yet alone, his current status. The days were taking their toll on his now 46 year old body, and his arm still stun ever so slightly from his last meeting with the death-eaters. His demeanor stiffened a bit, however, as he recalled that violent meeting. Of course, he had already known that he was to be punished that evening as a result of not detailing in full the most recent meeting of the Order. He had been, as the Dark Lord had explained, "too vague" and dishonesty was not something that went without consequences, but of course, not much did come without consequences when in accordance with the Death Eaters...but, Severus Snape, for all that he was, was not one to feel sorry for himself for too long, rather, he was a man who, very nearly, never felt sorry for himself. This was a rare occasion indeed, but perhaps, upon coming to the unfortunate conclusion that his suffering would most likely never cease, Severus' strong disposition had faltered for a small time.

Now, as he sat beside the shore, thoughtfully listening to the dull sound of the water lapping against the pebble-filled sand, he straightened himself up a bit, no longer crouching in his only self-aware position. His dark eyes were drawn to a shape moving in the distance, far across the lake's murky depths. It ambled slowly along the shoreline, looking in his direction ever so often. The soft curves of the form presented itself to be a woman as it paused its promenade and stared directly at the plaintive potions professor. Long, dark hair tousled gently in the breeze against warm, tawny-colored skin and deep-azure, summer robes. The woman appeared melancholy as she stared in his direction, but nothing could be certain with such distance. Severus gradually drew himself to full height and peered curiously at the girl. Who she was was uncertain, for he knew of no guests visiting, nor of any new faculty members that he hadn't previously met. A stranger, yet, she studied him without removing her gaze.

The warm air stagnated over the lake and Severus, at last, coming to his senses, called out to her. "You there!" His voice was hoarse and throaty from his previous surprise. "Girl, or whomever. Who are you?" He began to walk quickly along the beach in the woman's direction. She, the stranger, abruptly looked away and began off in the opposite way. It was obvious that he would not catch up to her, and yet, his resounding, "Stop!" was proof enough that he was too stubborn to cease his pursuit. His curiosity had gotten the better of him and without eye-contact, he could not very well use legillemens to ascertain the girl's identity.

Suddenly, as he broke into a near-run, she crouched down near the edge of the water and then, disappeared entirely. She had not fallen in, nor had she entered the water, for no splashing sound had been heard. Severus' sprinting lapsed and he slowed to a walk once more. It was of no use. Perhaps she had a potion or invisibility cloak of some sort, but it was certain that he would not find her now. Perhaps it did not matter, though. What difference would it have made? Later on, Severus would have convinced himself that it was an illusion or hallucination of some sort as he prepared for himself a vile of dreamless-sleep potion and drank it down. As he lay restlessly upon his bed, he gave up the notion of forcing himself to forget the seemingly meaningless events of the afternoon and merely drifted off into an transient state of unconsciousness.