He was walking alone in the Forbidden Forest when he sensed something
moving in the darkness behind him. He heard nothing from the forest floor,
no branches cracking or leaves being crushed, but he saw the hooded figure
and it had its wand raised he could hear something being mumbled from
underneath the black hood and the Deatheater mask and suddenly..He was
falling and falling and then..nothing.
Severus Snape woke up with a start, and sat straight up in his bed covered in a layer of cold sweat and breathing heavily. This is not the first time he had this particular dream, it just seemed as if every time he dreamed it there was a little bit more added to it. This time he could have sworn he smelled a woman's perfume lingering on the air before all had turned dark. He wondered if he actually was killed in these dreams, or just cursed beyond all recognition, all he knew is that he wanted to know more. Who was this 'woman' Deatheater? In his years as a Deatheater, he had never smelled a woman like this before, she smelled so sweet, and innocent, not a Deatheater smell at all. Deatheaters were tainted, even though their blood might be pure, their souls were black and rotten. Female Deatheaters always seemed to smell of sex and blood, never flowers or fruit essences. He was definitely confused, so he went into the shower to wash off the sweat, as well as take care of the erection that was created by thinking of the innocent, sweet creature that particular smell must belong to. As he finished his shower and put on his best teaching robes, he made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. As he walked by the Gryffindor table, he stopped and realized that there was an all to familiar smell coming from one bushy haired know-it-all. He turned around to get a better smell and she caught his eye, she smiled innocently, and he scowled menacingly. He stalked up to the High Table wondering where he had smelled that smell before.
Severus Snape woke up with a start, and sat straight up in his bed covered in a layer of cold sweat and breathing heavily. This is not the first time he had this particular dream, it just seemed as if every time he dreamed it there was a little bit more added to it. This time he could have sworn he smelled a woman's perfume lingering on the air before all had turned dark. He wondered if he actually was killed in these dreams, or just cursed beyond all recognition, all he knew is that he wanted to know more. Who was this 'woman' Deatheater? In his years as a Deatheater, he had never smelled a woman like this before, she smelled so sweet, and innocent, not a Deatheater smell at all. Deatheaters were tainted, even though their blood might be pure, their souls were black and rotten. Female Deatheaters always seemed to smell of sex and blood, never flowers or fruit essences. He was definitely confused, so he went into the shower to wash off the sweat, as well as take care of the erection that was created by thinking of the innocent, sweet creature that particular smell must belong to. As he finished his shower and put on his best teaching robes, he made his way to the Great Hall for breakfast. As he walked by the Gryffindor table, he stopped and realized that there was an all to familiar smell coming from one bushy haired know-it-all. He turned around to get a better smell and she caught his eye, she smiled innocently, and he scowled menacingly. He stalked up to the High Table wondering where he had smelled that smell before.