Lust, Spite and Malice.
Chapter 1: The laughing city
Having given up the battle to stay focused along time ago, I was now struggling to keep awake. Ignoring Annabel and Talena's indignant messages, I wondered why on earth I had decided to take History of Magic. As Sirius Black often remarked, "rest and reflection" was the only thing anyone ever achieved after spending an hour and a half in the company of Professor Binns and where as the majority of student's seemingly favoured "rest" with the obvious exceptions of Annabel and Talena who preferred to swap gossip, I personally preferred to reflect.
As most of the class slipped into a wide-eyed slumber, my eyes wandered over to the far corner of the classroom and fixed on Severus Snape, the only person who was paying attention to Binns' lecture on the Goblin rebellion of 1302. Or perhaps it was 1402. I shouldn't have let my mind wander so easily. I bowed by head, returning to my own half-hearted notes when I noticed an eerie, glint of emerald cast across my parchment. Tracing the shadow across the desk and over the stone-cobble floor, I saw that a small green, dragon skin notebook was the source of the strange light. Contrary to my initial observation, I now realised that Severus Snape was not paying attention to Binns but was writing in the novel book instead of the conventional rolls of parchment, his distinctive hooked nose barley an inch away from the paper. The handsome book captivated me, expelling all thoughts of concentration. The notebook had a malicious beauty to it, a mysterious and malevolent depth that held no bounds, just like its owner. There was something about Severus Snape that always intrigued me ever since I'd first laid eyes on him at the sorting ceremony in my first year. He was different from every other person at Hogwarts, and particularly stood out amongst his fellow housemates. Nevertheless, the sorting hat hadn't misplaced him when it declared him a Slytherin – he was as astute and competitive as the next with malevolent and racial attitudes as wholesome as his ancestry was pure. Where as the majority of Slytherins consorted with the children of prestigious pure-blooded families whom their parents associated with and approved of as an unspoken and ancient rule, whether he refused to or was excluded, Severus Snape was not part of these circles. Instead, Snape chose the company of the written word in the form of books, which he devoured on a daily basis. He was a regular fixture in the school library as he educated himself on a variety of subjects, most of which were completely irrelevant to his school studies. He had a particular penchant for the dark arts, a topic that he was openly fixated with and his fascination provided him with the sinister and disturbing reputation that he so often hid behind. This façade was not as effective as he might have hoped however, and contrary to being put off by his creepy character, several students instead found it highly entertaining. In particular, James Potter and Sirius Black found Snape to be the perfect target of their amusement.
When I finally lifted my gaze off of Snape, my questions lingered and he remained the subject of my thoughts. I wanted to know what made him tick, I was intrigued. Why did he keep himself to himself? Why did he push everyone away? What was the reasoning behind the way he acted around people? The Severus Snape that he had let the rest of the school believe him to be was in my opinion a very glorified version of the real person behind the hooked nose and scowl. Then again, he was probably just as responsible for his public persona as was the rest of the student body. In every school, magic or muggle, there were always the usual caricatures and Snape was just another, epitomizing the lonesome and strange 'misfit'.
The bell sounded and I couldn't help but watch him slip his mystical notebook into his bag and fling it over his shoulder before the rest of the class had even fully registered that the lesson had indeed finished. The hum of noise returned almost instantaneously as Professor Binns floated carelessly through the blackboard entrance to the classroom, followed swiftly by a stream of students.
Annabel and Talena stood up besides me. "He so weird", scoffed Annabel, following my line of vision over to Snape. 'Not even his own house can stomach him".
"Mmmm", I replied, leaving Talena to add her two pence. I mean I could hardly disagree, could I? Although what they were saying made me feel uneasy, there was no denying it was true.
James potter swaggered past, winking at me as he ruffled his jet black hair much to my distaste and Remus Lupins' amusement judging by his covert smirk. James Potter was the complete antithesis of Severus Snape who unlike his Slytherin adversary left little to the imagination. He was the popular, comical bright-spark who thrived off attention, detention and quidditch. Because of our mutual good looks, social status and academic achievements the rest of the student body had paired us off a long time ago but to no avail. James Potter was an immature egomaniac who victimised and belittles others.
"Watch it Snivellus", sneered James Potter true to form as he jostled past Snape followed by his usually company. "We were so ecstatic with the result of your make-over last week that we're eagerly preparing the next stage", Sirius Black taunted, referring to the marauders' latest prank in which Snape received a make over of sorts. This comment was met by a tide of sadistic and callous laughter from the surrounding pupils who had all stopped to watch.
Gritting his teeth, Snape instinctively reached for his wand but Potter was too quick. With a single swish, Snape found himself hurtling toward to far wall and hitting it with a sickening crack although the noise was unheard above the sound of laughter.
Unperturbed and looking more menacing than ever as he lay in a crumpled heap, Snape pointed at his wand at Potters head, hissing and spitting incantations. Green sparks fired from his wand but James Potter dodged them successfully.
"Later", sniggered James as he walked away with one arm draped over Talena, followed by the rest of the class who were still laughing. I however stayed exactly where I was, rooted to the spot. I hadn't laughed but I hadn't done anything to help either. We were the only two left in the classroom now. I watched uneasily as Snape, his mouth contorted in a twisted grimace, stuffed his possessions (which had sprayed wildly across the floor) into his bag without so much as glancing at me. Feeling compelled to help, I picked up a beautiful dark, eagle feather quill and walked towards him silently. I didn't say anything; I just held it towards him in my hand which he ignored. Realising that he was most probably feeling exceedingly humiliated, I placed the quill on the desk besides him and went to fetch my bag. As I did so, I heard the blackboard door fly open, knocking over a suit of armour much to Sir Eledon and Lady Lonsdale, the occupants of a neighbouring portraits' outrage.
I was alone now. Snape had discarded the eagle feather quill as if my touch had been contaminating. I picked it up, running the elegant feather across my hand. In his haste to gather his belongings however, he had missed something very important. Glistening and casting shadows of deep emerald, gold and red across the cold stone floor from the corner in which it was situate, I saw a familiar object calling out to me.
Heart pounding, I walked towards it, holding my breath in awe as I reached down to pick up the beautiful object that had fascinated and intrigued me for the past hour. I ran my fingertips across the hide, the smoothness of its exterior taking me by surprised. I'd had expected dragons hide to feel rough and uneven but instead, what I touch resembled cascading silk.
"Lily?"
It was Talena. "I should have guessed you would be here still, you get the top mark in the class every time as it, there's no need to stay behind and write anymore notes – the class average is disproportionately high because of you as it is!"
Laughing, I allowed Talena to steer be away.
But not before I'd carefully picked up the little book and slipped it into my bag.