This is my first fanfic. Please enjoy!
Just so ya know, all Harry Potter character's that appear in this story belong to J.K Rowling and not me. Also, the world in which they habit belongs to J.K Rowling and not me. However... Maria Isabella Rampart is a character of my own original creation, as well as her family and Mr.Gilby.
A Witch's Blood
Chapter One
The air tasted like filth. There was no way possibly that such foul aromas actually attracted people to this place. At least that's what I thought at first, when hired as a waitress to work in this muggle pub.
Gilby's Tavern was its name. The owner, Mr. Gilby, was a disgusting pervert. I remember the day I first sat in his office, so grimy and squalid. Fearful was I of what lurked in the shadows. Through the entire interview, the pig-nosed, yellow-teethed, drooling, balding and fat man stared at my breasts. Sometimes, I daydream about burning the pub and doing away with Mr. Gilby. It would be my gift to mankind.
So here I was, serving drinks, when someone strange walked in. He reminded me of someone I knew from years before. But my mind wouldn't accept the possibility that it was him. The man was tall and pale. He wore, from head to toe, all black. His collared button shirt, pants, buckle, leather jacket, shiny shoes, and I imagine even his socks, were black. Long raven hair framed his pallid face.
I gained hope. It couldn't be him, there was no way. The man I knew wore too much color, causing permanent blindness if one stared for too long a time. A shame I couldn't see his face.
From a courner of my eye, I saw all the other waitresses gathered in a flock mumbling incoherently.
Severus Snape was a regular here at Gilby's Tavern. He's come here so often, that every time he stops by, all the waitresses assemble to draw straws. The loser waits on Snape for the evening. The greasy git then takes over and makes his waitress's night a living nightmare.
With a scowl donned upon his face, Snape took his usual seat in the courner. Dark and musty, just what he needed. In the middle of his wooden table sat a lit candle. It smelled like... strawberries.
All the while Snape was deep in thought, he didn't notice the fact that a slender red-haired woman observe his actions. Her deep brown eyes were dark, hardened by an abysmal past filled with sunless memories. No one noticed the slender figure being pulled into the desperate flock of waitresses, forced to draw straws.
"Huh? What's this garish blazonry? Unhand me this instant!" came her heated response.
Snape snorted.
"Seems like they've got some new blood here," he muttered to himself. A slight smirk crawled onto his face. 'The poor lass dosen't stand a chance!'
It didn't take long for the girls to draw their straws and start comparing. But while they sized up all the straws, squinting and peering and studying, Snape started to get impatient.
The first sign was rapid footapping. That progressed to legshaking, and later to fingertapping. Last,he hada dominant sneer to showeven moredistaste. Finally, he couldn't wait any longer, he had to ask at least once.
"Excuse me ladies, but I've been waiting here for the past half hour! I know the service here is terrible, but I swear this is preposterous!" barked Snape.
A waitress snaped back at him. "Hold 'yer horses! We're going as fast as we can! You're quite the special costumer here in this establishment!"
Once again, he mumbled under his breath, something along the lines of "I swear, if the Dark Lord dosen't get to me first...bloody dunderheads! Establishment indeed!"
After 15 more minutes passed, the gaggle finally decided on who would serve Snape tonight. It would be the new blood girl with brown eyes and vibrantly spiked short red hair.
She walked over nervously with apprehension. Her right hand was held close to her face as she bit her fingernails. For some reason, different than usual, she feared him. Not for who Snape was himself, but because of the memory he represented to the girl. The girl straightened herself out as soon as she reached his table though.
"Good day sir, my name is Maria. How may I help you?" said Maria in a surprisingly joyfull voice.
Snape's beetle-black eyes narrowed. "You can stop that twittering about first, you silly little girl. Arrgh. Just go andget me abottle of Jack Daniels." he said simply. His eyes fell to the flickering flame on the candle. He was entranced. Snape quickly jumped back to reality when he heard a small gasp.
Maria was still standing there, but with a look of disgusted fear upon her face. "What are you waiting for, a map? I would think that you knew the way to the kitchen here, seeing as how you work here. Get going you twit!"
Maria snapped to it, carrying a new air about her. She became totally, and completely, indifferent.Before Maria went to deliever the orders, she bowed and grunted a short "Sir." The flame-haired girl spun around on her heels and left promptly.
"Strange..." whispered one waitress to another.
"What?" asked Snape.
"None of 'yer business, tightwad!"
He scoffed. "Oh, spare me, please! Just what do you find so strange in this dump?
"Hmph! Well, usually," began the waitress, "She doesn't speak at all, first I heard her voice all week. Also, she's quite hateful and distant. Almost invisible in a way. Last thing is, she's as much of a git as you are. She acts like she's superior to all of us in every way... But something tells me she has a reason to think that." She paused. "Something just isn't right with her today. Maybe she's catching a cold, or something."
Snape pondered for a moment. "Perhaps."
It was 15 minutes later when Maria returned with a filled tray in hand, as she was serving others this night also. Carefully, he watched Maria's hands as they fumbled to set his bottle of ack Daniels onto his table. There was a long scar formed on the back of her right arm. It formed a familiar symbol...Where had he seen that before?A sudddenflash of pain went across his head.
Snape uttered a very faint gasp, barely audible, but the girl seemed to notice. Her already large eyes grew wider in surprise. With his right hand, herubbed his left temple. He scowled at Maria. "What are you staring at?" he asked accusingly.
The rest of the night passed more quickly than expected. Snape finished his bottle, payed the bill, and then left for his flat which was convenietly just across the street.
The building was sparsely decorated, except for the few muggle appliances which graced their presence here and there. The only tell-tale sign that a wizard lived here could be found on the uppermost floor, which were his private quarters. In his private quarters, the walls were lined with magical books, potion ingredients, and pickled animals. There was a study room, where he wrote his research papers, and a laboratory, where he made his special potions. A chest of his old wizard robes could be found up there also.
His bedroom, kitchen, livingroom, bathroom, and other workroom where located on the first and third floors. In between those floors, the second floor, the whole space was reserved for any any possible co-worker parties (which he had to host involentarily). Those three floors had no magical items whatsoever, which sometimes frustrated Snape. He hated it even more when parties were thrown in his flat (none of the other co-workers had such lovely space, perfect for dancing) which always resulted in him and a plump, over-eager securatary doing the Hustle.
Snape was just sitting down into a luxurious silk-covered armchair with a muggle book in hand. The chair, like the other few furnishings, was Forest green laced with silver lining. The wooden armrests and legs were painted Midnight black.
A glass of red wine sat on a black painted wooden stand next to him. He took a small sip and then opened his book. The book Snape was reading was called Dr. Jeckyll and Mr. Hyde. As far as the raven haired man has read, the story was wonderfull, even though it was written by a bloody muggle.
Snape was so deeply engaged into his little world that he was startled when he heard a sudden female voice shout out for help. He frowned. 'Bloody muggles. They can't take care of themselves at all,' he thought.
This is only the first chapter. There will be more to come!
Okay, let me describe Maria more effectively so you can be more familiar with her all the quicker. Maria Isabella Rampart appears to be a young girl of 16 with a mysterious past (Remember, at first Maria mistook Snape for someone else she had known). As said before, she's usually quite snarky, distant, and rarely speaks to anyone.
She has eyes like dark chocolate, and without emotion. Maria tries her best to bury her emotions, emotions which only caused her pain in earlier years. Her hair is short and all spiked up, not to mention vibrantly red (like fire!).
Please review! I know I need to seriously improve my writing skills! Thanks for reading this. :D