Moonlight in a Corn Field
Chapter: 2
Drop the Tea, Skippy
Summary: What happens when a well-known Hogwarts' professor comes back to start the new school with more then just a sour puss? Well we're about to find out.
Author's Note: I do not own Harry Potter nor do I own any of it's characters or actors...not that I haven't tried. As a result of my non-ownership of the above iteams that therefore should give a good indication of my lack of indentification as Mrs. J.K. Rowling. If for some reason you insist on believing that I am indeed Mrs. Rowling, then you should be beaten then maimed with wooden paddle...repeatedly. Thank you and drive home safetly.
Have you ever wondered why sooner or later you have to realise what you've lost and move on? If not, you should. At some point, usually in the midst of our deepest despair, life seems to thrust us into it's tail-spin of movement. No matter how hard we try to resist the light and no matter how desperately we pray to the heavens to let us continue to hold onto our darkness, life won't let us. It wants us to live and to move forword, even in the times when we don't wish the same upon ourselves. We like the dark, don't we? We like staying in the shadows as a means of hiding from the light. In times likes these the monsters under our beds seem to be as meak as lillies in the breeze, while the prospect of closure is more frightening then the Grime Reeper, himself, stopping at your front foor in preperation of coming to take you for tea.
The sky was pale. Pale as though a hearty rain storm had just finished stretching itself out beyond the border of it's clouds. The pallid hues of blue and pink had replaced the golden butter that had spread itself upon the atmosphere the night before. They twisted in the sky for what seemed like an eternity until settling down for a wonderous slumber. The wind and cold had died down to a mild chill, though the two forces still enforced the emerald blades of grass and made it quiver down to their roots, in addition to the already shaking trees and flowers.
She lay there amidst a depth of absolute silence. She was totally and completely unaware of the quivering world around her. Piper was just spread upon the ground as though she was a bit of butter being drawn across a peice of toast. The blades of grass seemed to lean over and say "hello" to the girl in a manner that caused them to tip and tickle her nose and cheeks. She unconsciously scrunched her face instinctively as to banish the evil meadow that was intruding upon her pale flesh.
Piper was lost in a sea of oblivious dreams until all of a sudden she was awaken from her slumber by an unwelcome thump to the head. She arised readily and leaned back upon her porceline elbows in confusion. Holding her head with her slender fingers she looked up in an effort to catch a glimpse of the creature who had whacked her, but instead only caught a peek at the newly risen sun. Piper quickly turned her head and squinted her hazel eyes as the sun shone into them feverishly.
"Morning." a deep male voice said.
She looked up quickly in startlement, though that feeling didn't last long. Once she noticed who it was who had thumped her on the side of the head, she was no longer surprise at either the indivigual or the action. Looking down at her was someone she knew quite well, though not exactly the person she would of prefered to see on an early September morning.
"Morning." Piper replied as she yawned.
Her eyes scanned over the man and came to finally rest on a steaming mug that was seized in this hand. She gave herself a moment to think and asses the situation, but in the midst of her rationalizing she heaved those thoughts out of her mind-frame and grabbed the mug from out of the man's hand. He raised his dark, bushy eyebrow and muttered a sarcastic "That was mine." and sat down next to the girl.
"Not anymore." she responded with a playful smirk.
"Very funny, now give it back." he requested whilst reaching for the cup within the hands of the girl. She shifted her shoulder away from him and countered with a simple "Nope."
"Piper." he said in a warning tone.
"Severus." she warned back.
"Piper give me back my tea or-" he began, but was cut off.
"Or what? You'll hex me? Turn me into a toad? Go ahead...see is I give a fiddly." she mocked.
He looked at her. His hollow eyes bored into her head. She looked back, rolled her eyes, and handed the cup back over to the man.
"Here." she said dismissingly "It was bad tea any way." she additionally muttered.
He looked back over at the girl and scanned her feautres. He took note of her irritated experssion and pulled out his wand. He congured up another cup of tea and handed it over to the girl. She looked at him.
"I could of done that myself, Severus." she noted.
"First of all...It's uncle Severus. Second of all...you know you're not supposed to do magic outside of school." he replied before taking a sip of tea.
"What's the difference? I'll be on the train later today and I'll be arriving at school by nightfall." Piper responded.
"The difference may only be hours, Piper, but they do make a difference." Severus reasoned
"Sure..Just like it makes a difference whether you give Nan Butter Beer or Fire Whisky." Piper scoffed.
Snape couldn't help but snort when he heard this. The fact of the matter was that it really didn't matter whether you gave old Rolinea Butter Beer or Fire Whisky. She always seemed to become tipsy on either one. Only the Lord knows how many times good, old Nan ended up jiving on a table to some old wizard song.
"No. No, I suppose not. Though until you do get on the train, don't be playing around with that wand. Don't be foolish, Piper." he warned.
"And this is coming from a man who was reguarly hung from his shoes during his school days, right." Piper mocked.
"Don't start with me." he countered hotly.
"Fine. Whatever." she replied as she got up from her place on the deep, emerald grass. "I'm going to go get ready abd gather my trunks." she added as she walked away from her uncle, towards the house in which she had snuck out of the night prior.
So what did ya think? Was it good, bad, fantastic, worthy of a paddle to the head? I wrote it and so I naturally think it's cooler then Jesus, but that's just me. It would be amazing to have some imput from all of you. This, in case you were wondering, is a polite way of me asking you to review. Soooo please review! I promise it won't go unnoticed.
Next Chapter?n ufsd ne irft 'enr a