Country: United Kingdom
September 07, 2018
09/31/2023 11:33 PM
This is a character profile made for writing. Everything here is fictional. I am not affiliated with Harry Potter as an entity.
1. I am not interested in giving OOC information.
2. I am obviously IC in roleplay exchanges. In my status stream, you may find that I am a mixture of IC and semi-OOC. I can be very casual with my status comments, often aiming to make humorous banter or chit-chat. I understand that some players may not like this, but I will not be stopping.
3. I tend to answer messages semi-IC or IC. Keep this in mind if I sound formal or curt at all.
4. Depending on the number of storylines I have going on, I may limit them. I have a job in RL and personal creative projects that take priority over my work here.
5. The main purpose of me creating this profile was to get in writing practice. It has provided me with low-pressure freewrites that I can do casually and kickstart my motivation to work on other things that I can actually claim as mine. Please keep this in mind when I write here. I won't/can't be investing all of my time into rp.me.
6. Occasionally I do add characters and don't/forget to message them. I understand there is an issue with "collecting" people, and I'd like to explain my thought process if it seems I'm doing it:
Usually, when I add people, I have a need of a specific character-- basically, I sort of keep people as reference for when I've made the time to create an SL idea. Depending on the number of stories I already have going on, that may be a while. In the meantime, if you do desire to speak to me, even if it's just chatting, you're absolutely free to. I'm just trying to explain how I'm not maliciously collecting people.
1. You may send me messages or comments for starters. I have a preference for comments generally, but I am fine writing in messages as well.
2. I am willing to do Canon SLs and AU Sls. We can discuss AU as they surface.
3. I am open to crossovers on a case by case basis.
4. If you are a canon character, you are allowed to send me random starters.
5. I have not read the recent Harry Potter post-war play, and for the moment, do not plan to. So be aware of this.
6. I tend to prefer para-multipara. Novella length is too time consuming and one lining can be boring.
7. The only storylines I will say immediately that I am not very interested in are ones only involving classroom scenes.
8. I will do any era, though my teenaged Snape is still in development.
9. I will be posting headcanons that I follow regarding Snape's family life, history, and personality soon. Although his general storyline is already in place, many players will put their own thought into their characters and how they are played. I will inform you of mine.
10. I also post fan fiction and short pieces on my blog as well, so feel free to peruse.
11. I don't really have 'mains,' exactly. My activity changes with time, and I accept storylines from multiple characters.
12. I have no issues with mirrors either.
13. I partake in many forms of rp with different degrees of obligation-- main plotlines discussed and written in messages or comments, chit chat in the status stream, and mini-status roleplays of semi-para on status and bulletin posts. I enjoy all of these things, so do not be frightened to start one with me.
The way I format these are as follows:
If I have created a status rp for a specific player, I will put "[R]" for reserved before the text. If the rp is open, as in anyone can comment and write, I will put a "[O]" for open. I am also fine with multi-player rps, but I think these should be discussed beforehand to avoid spamming each other with notifications.
Note: Obviously this does not apply to regular statuses-- I don't care who comments on those, and I encourage the interaction. Status RPs will be more obvious, being a large block of prose paired with a picture most likely.
14. As of right now, I am not interested in joining any RPGs. I've never really been into them, and am not in a position to put forth that sort of obligation towards writing here. I prefer one-on-one interactions and discussing stories with those of you directly on my list.
1. I am not interested in any sexually explicit story lines.
2. I am not particularly interested in romantically pairing my character with anyone either.
3. On that note, I absolutely do not want to engage in any rl/ooc relationships with or without my character. I am here strictly for storytelling.
4. There may be themes of drugs, violence, and abuse in my storylines or short pieces. Of course, this does not mean our specific storyline has to include this, but know that it may appear on my page from time to time. That being said, if you have any specific themes you would like to play out with me, I am willing to do most things with the exception of smut.
5. If you are a student/underaged individual who approaches me with some kind of romantic or flirtatious motive, know you are wasting your time, and will only receive a reply expressing how strange and uncomfortable Snape is and nothing else. I think it's important to put this out there before anyone -tries- anything.
6. Other things may make themselves known as time goes on, in which case, I will handle those on a case by case basis.
02/21/2019 03:20 PM
The Prince household was much friendlier these days-- or, more than it used to be, that is. Lyanna Prince was the only remaining pureblood in the family, and she still ruled the house with a iron tongue that sometimes had Severus snapping back at her multiple times a day. Still, however, since the death of Silvius Prince, the Parisian home was not nearly as sinister, and Snape could navigate the halls without fear of being hexed out the door.
It was a Friday, which meant it was Severus's brewing day. The man had settled into this new weekly routine, needing to brew potent remedies for the scars of the war and Lyanna's failing health.
After the battle of Hogwarts, Snape's body had been dragged from the Shrieking Shack, nearly drained of blood. The doctors at St. Mungos had remarked several times that his survival was a miracle-- to survive such an attack and then to survive the vemon of such a vicious serpent-- it was incredible. Snape, however, didn't see it as optimistically, however. He had fully anticipated dying at some point during the war, and when he was dragged back to consciousness, wrapped in bandages on a hospital bed amid other moaning patients, he nearly looked around for a vial of poison to administer to himself. It did not help either, when he noticed how the nurses were afraid to touch him, or how the doctors could not look him in the eye as they ran him through his treatment options. They knew who he was, and they all feared him. Severus Snape. Former Death Eater. Murderer of Lord Voldemort. They required, by law, to nurse him back to health, but it was clear none of them wished to. Severus could not blame them. And even after his innocence had been pushed by Harry Potter, and his charges were dropped, he could not blame the hundreds of other people in the UK who still thought he should rot in Azkaban for what he did.
When Severus was released from the hospital, he was a broken man, mentally and physically. His body did not heal correctly, as if he were a jigsaw puzzle with pieces forced together in the wrong places. Snape walked with a limp now, and he had unexplained pain near his arm-- close to where his faded Dark Mark was writ into his skin. The doctors had explained that his condition may get better with time, but Severus, familiar with the effects of various venoms and understanding what malicious experiences the Dark Lord had probably performed on Nagini, knew that he likely would endure the pain for the rest of his life. Knowing this, he limped out onto the street, the world suddenly far too open and empty for him, and he immediately decided that he could not spend another day in London.
When Snape had arrived on his aunt's doorstep, it was a surprise to both of them. Severus had only visited the Prince household once-- when he was a 14 year old boy seeking help for his mother's poor health. It was such a long time ago, when Severus still had some semblance of innocence to him. He had tracked down their address, and was promptly thrown out by his grandfather, Silvius Prince, after learning of his daughter's half-breed child with Tobias Snape. Lyanna, though disapproving of her sister's choice, still sent letters on occasion, mostly to be updated on Eileen's condition. After the death of Severus's mother, however, the letters had trickled into nothing. The only contact with the family he maintained after that was Silvius's reluctant sponsorship of Severus's work with Lord Voldemort. He provided materials and ingredients to the boy prodigy, all for the Dark Lord's cause.
Back then, Snape was an impressionable teenager. He craved validation desperately, wanting power, an inheritance, a connection to his magical blood, which, at the time, was the only part of his bloodline that mattered to him. He was overwhelmed by the Prince family, the familial history that he could have claimed had he not been a half-blood, and back then, he sought to please them in every way he could.
Since then, and after everything that had occured these past many years, the family fortune and estate no longer appealed to him in the way it did. He had come to terms that he bore muggle blood, and was no longer susceptible to following the Princes's every whim. He finally felt ready to come back.
When Lyanna Prince answered, she looked at him with the same disapproving glare she had when he saw his skinny face outside the door all those years ago, except now, she looked up at him. Her black hair had faded to gray, and her face had gained a number of wrinkles. Her red lips, however, were still the same shade of Parisian sin, and their black eyes mirrored each other.
"I see you didn't get any handsomer." She said dryly. Snape smirked at this, his face now scarred and marred since they last met.
"You should have predicted that." He said. She opened the door for him to come in.
"I did. I just can't believe my angel of a sister produced such an ugly little boy." Lyanna led him deeper into the house that she now owned.
Over the next couple years, the two old villians settled into a comfortable routine. Lyanna was old, and needed help with the house. Most of their house elves had died, and since the Prince family business of potions selling was on the decline, she had not bought more. Snape merely needed a change of scenery and something to do. He appreciated her in how she didn't pry into his business too much. Surely she knew of his involvement in the war-- her father and his grandfather was quite involved in Lord Voldemort's plots financially. But Lyanna never pressed or even gave an inkling of an indication that she gave a damn, as long as Severus brewed enough pain-killing elixirs for the two of them and made sure they didn't drown in debt. Severus would bring her medicine infused in her morning tea, keep track of their diminishing inventory, and neatly wrote down their finances in a tome near the fireplace. For the rest of the day, however, they would leave each other alone. Despite the strange living conditions they had found themselves in, there was only so much of each other's company that they could tolerate, and it was incredibly vital to their wellbeings that they only have one conversation a day.
On one such day, his birthday in fact, Lyanna's topic of choice for their only conversation was a small bit of parchment she had slid under his nose as he was tallying up numbers in the living room, which prompted Snape to say:
"And that is?"
"I see you writing a lot." She said flatly. Severus quirked a brow.
"Yes? As most people do."
"Well, that's one of my contacts from Cambridge I thought you might be interested in."
Snape stared at her.
"You know, in case you missed all of that..." She waved her hands dismissively. "Academic riff raff. Tell them you know me and they may work with you on publishing some of your scribblings." She was terrible at this, this strange emotional encounter with her prickly nephew.
Severus folded up the paper and placed it in his pocket, not knowing how to navigate this situation either, so he gave a dry "Thank you." and returned to his work. Relieved and free of this awkward conversation, Lyanna hobbled back to the bedroom.
It had been some time after Severus had submitted his work for publication under the name "P. Beaumont" when he recieved a letter from someone whose mere name caused his breath to stop in his throat.
Of course, Hermione Granger would have her nose in every publication that existed, he supposed. He read through the letter, feeling an odd sense of accomplishment at her praise of his work and a strangeness resulting from the knowledge that she would, perhaps, never say such things if she knew that it was him. Strangely, the letter seemed to be his only connection he had with his old life-- he had spent so many days here in Paris, sometimes it felt as if he had escaped some terrible dream. Every day he woke up, he would bring Lyanna her tea, take his medicine, and perform research in the Prince's expansive library detailing magical elixirs and remedies. Despite their dwindling fortune, they still had enough to fund Snape's research and he spent most of his days in peace experimeting and writing. In some ways, it was marvelous, despite the reoccuring nightmares and the jolting dysphoria he felt when he saw his tattoo in the bath. But, as far as what he could have asked for out of life after the war, this was good. Now he held in his hands a small piece of the world that he and Dumbledore had literally given blood for. He felt drawn to it, out of curiousity, and was strongly repelled. He wasn't sure how to respond.
Snape thought on the letters for a few days, continuing his daily routines without much change, before, on one day, pausing in the living room over the Prince's finances. His brow came together as he continued to add and multiply funds, but it was clear what was happening: the Prince's potions business was officially dying.
Both Lyanna and Snape knew it would happen. The Prince's band had been dying since Snape's great, grandfather, Severus Prince had dirited the family name by approving of a marraige between some pureblood relative and a half-blood. They had lost a lot of funding back then, and Silvius Prince's investments into Lord Voldemort did not pay off (partially Snape's fault.) Now they were nearing the point of no return.
Snape rubbed his face, somewhat stressed, before making the decision to return to the lab and gather a few papers. Copying Hermione Granger's return address, he placed his latest research of potent painkillers in a large, envelope and set the family owl off on its journey. He didn't write that P. Beaumont was him, however. Severus wanted to see her thoughts on the work first, and perhaps he could use that to earn some income.
02/06/2019 01:19 PM
In Which the World is Filled with Ghosts
You died on July 7th, at 11:00am precisely. It was a sunny day, with a slight breeze. The roses you had planted out back were beginning to grow wild, their blooms hidded within forests of leaves. They clawed at your window for you, wrapped around the sill and brushing their tender bodies against the panes.
Outside the world went on and on, and I remembered you had once told me to never fear death. You were well accustomed to the ends of things.
I wish I could have seen you. I wish I had come home earlier, laid my head at your bedside and listened to your breathing. I would have taken your hands and pressed them to my face so I could remember what it was like to be a child. I would have read you Mary Oliver until you were gone. I would have told you of the whole world, the slow sinking of the sun a thousand times, of the majesty of thunderheads, reminded you of the sound of sparrows in the morning and all of the things you will be leaving behind.
I loved you like you love a hometown, how you never quite leave the land you come from. How a tree must love the soil its planted in, how I know nothing else than what goodness birthed me and it follows me like a ghost.
I loved you like I could never love anyone, and when I came in that day and found your body at the bottom of the stairs, I died too.
And now, the house is filled with all the ghosts of you. I find your apparition in the steam from the kettle. I smell you walk past in the hallway. Sometimes I hear your laughter out in the garden, or the beams creak with your footsteps. I did not grow up to be a person who deserved you, and I'm sorry. I have left your sketchbooks on the vanity in your room. I have kept your bed made every morning. I brew your favorite tea, sweep the counters, left your mug on the windowsill unwashed.
I think the ghosts are here because of me, and how I've kept everything you've left behind. I want to close my eyes and surround myself in the air your last breath became. I don't want to know what your absence feels like. I remember every detail of you right up to the end, from your hair brush travelling down the length of your hair, to the angle your neck was twisted underneath you. I remember. I remember it all. And I don't want it to stop.
12/10/2018 09:40 PM
The Origins of Magic | Severus Tobias
The Origins of MagicThe origins of magic are widely unknown. The question of its source is closely intertwined with the origin of life itself. It is a vast, unanswerable abyss. From the dawn of time, man and sorcerer looked out into the sky, memorized and terrified of its unending dark. The world rotated at a thousand miles an hour, unyielding and silent, floating, inexplicably in a monstrous, silent space. As humanity crawled out of their caves into the eye of a raw and merciless sun, they knew there were forces far too big for them to understand. Life was as pointless as it was monumental. It meant nothing at all and everything at the same time, and somewhere, deep within, entire universes bloomed within the hearts of man.
Severus's mother had always said that she thought that magic was the manifestation of those universes-- that magic was the embodiment of all that a person could be. It was faith. It was hope. It was the sobering and beautiful revelation that being alive was so much bigger than you thought. She said this as she twisted blooms together in the garden, her hands crusted with mud, and she worked as if she didn't care. Severus watched her dig her palms into the earth, work it tenderly.
Her garden always grew the fastest in the neighborhood, and when Tobias was not home, the neighbors would ask her what she used for fertilizer or put in her compost. Eileen Snape would just nod humbly, and say that her method merely included a lot of love. And Severus believed it as he watched her work the earth, soothe it, nurture it. It was if her rose bushes sensed the fullness in her heart and rose from their sodden, loamy beds to turn their faces towards her. This was Eileen's magic-- a meticulous and sincere kindness, a kind that made even the darkest, most lost men know love. She was powerful, and Severus never forgot her and the ways he could not come close to what she was-- the ways that no one, except one person could.
Lily Evans was far too good a woman for Snape. In the end, Severus realized that he had grown up surrounded by gods. He was loved by women who, by all means, had better things to do. He carried this with him for most of his life, as he scrubbed his bloody hands in the sink for many nights. He remembered this as he cast the killing curse for the first time-- how his mother had lived inside him for so long that he could not do it the first time he tried. When he finally cast a sickly gush of green from his wand, someone on the other end fell to the ground dead, and he knew she had finally left him.
He had heard it all-- there was nothing quite like someone screaming at the end of their life. It was not like any other sound. It was an unhinged, terrifying bellow. And he had heard it hundreds of times, heard it in his sleep, saw flashes of green in both explosions and the long sweep of pine branches.
When Eileen died, her garden dried into a husk. When she first explained what magic was to Severus, he had assumed that it was inherently good. He had thought magic made you a good person, a strong person. He thought it would make you grow up into a version of yourself you could be proud of-- that was what it meant. Now looking at his sallow and pale face in the mirror, everyone he knew dying or dead, he realized that not everyone was meant to grow up to be good. Magic sometimes embodied something ugly already inside you. And in the end, there was no running from that.
-Professor Severus Tobias
12/02/2018 08:50 PM
Backuped up Statuses
Severus sat alone under a drooping pine tree on the far side of the lake. The dusk was overtaking the sky in red, and he stared into the fading day with his mouth half open. He had brewed Amortentia yesterday, and it was the worst possible news of his life. He kept seeing red in everything. In the sinking sun, in a quill across the room, the spectral brush of Gryffindor curtains. He was haunted by this news of her, possessed, by the scent of her shampoo. He remembered the imprint of her cheeks between his palms so vividly he knew the contours of her face with his eyes closed. He was terrified, struck, frozen in fear in the face of this monstrous force. Love was a magic untamed and inexpressible, impossible to harness and impossible to escape. Snape's bony fingers gripped his cheeks as if entrapping himself in a cage, peering through the bars of his fingers. He felt imprisoned by the pull of her eyes, his father's blood, his obsession with power. He had been stretched far into different directions, none of them quite being enough. Power was not enough. His inheritance was not enough. The life she wanted for him-- not enough. The red sun grazed the boy's pale cheekbones veiling him in the color of fire or of blood. He had heard the news that she was dating James Potter, and he didn't know what to say. He was angry at her, and he was angry at himself. He felt he had lost her, and he also felt this was some sort of jab at him-- choosing the worst person in the entire school to be with. A nail in the coffin of whatever they shared. And so, this, compiled on Severus's plans to lay claim on his family name and their cause, made the fragrance of his Amortentia the worst news he could receive.
Severus exited the classroom, hearing the rush of gossip slowly wash over him like an oncoming wave. His skinny fingers gripped his backpack strap until they were white as he descended the Grand Staircase. His nostrils flared. He was angry again, but not just at her, but at himself. When he had called her that -slur,- for the first several weeks, he couldn't stop thinking about it. He would dream of the moment over and over, the moment he had turned away from her. He remembered it, James Potter's voice in his head, facing the poison within him like a great black sun, and letting himself be consumed by it. As he went over it again and again, he never quite knew what came over him. All he felt was anger, the need to strike out, to attack anyone. When she came to his defense, he felt that anger turn towards her-- that she could defend someone so helpless as he. He didn't deserve it, pathetically hanging by his ankles about to have his trouser trousers* snatched off. And, he felt, she didn't deserve it either-- to have to continue to associate herself with this laughing stock, this strange, ugly boy, to defend her actions every time she went to meet that awful Slytherin. And so for a moment, he had slipped, everything came out. The fury. The darkness. He wanted everyone around him to just go away. Snape's robes billowed behind him as he made his way towards the place he had been spending most of his time lately: the pines of the Forbidden Forest. He ducked under the moist underhangings, a soft rain beginning to fall. His backpack fell with a thud, and he kicked a nearby log violently. It was half-rotten, and burst into bits. Damn it all. Damn everyone. Damn James Potter. Damn Tobias, and Silvius, and everyone. Severus himself sat on the ground, his face upturned towards the sky. His adams apple bobbed as he swallowed. And most of all, damn the fact that he was in love with her. That he had always been in love with her. Damn her perfume, damn her furious, beautiful eyes. Damn her righteousness and her absolute goodness-- that she should have ever spent even a moment of her life with him.
Severus sat under the pines for a long time. The rest of the day passed in a blur. He had missed all his classes. But he didn't care, as the sky remained its dismal gray-- the color of sorrow, his mother used to say. It seemed that the heavens were always sad then. Snape's robes were dampened, and he stood up and ducked back under the brush of needles. As he made his way back to Hogwarts, he looked up at the great spires rising above the hills. He both loved this place, and hated it. Here, he grew into a version of himself he never thought possible. But he had lost a lot as well. He wanted to leave so desperately now, to take his degree and go. He wanted to begin a life-- one where his name had more weight to it. He wanted to escape the poverty he had grow up in.
When he looked in Lily's eyes earlier, he felt a great pang, not only because of his feelings for her, but because he was suddenly acutely aware that he was leaving something behind. It was more than this school, more than the classes and the homework-- he was leaving a version of himself behind. A past. A childhood. An innocence Somewhere there was a boy version of him exploring seas of grass with her. Who closed his eyes as she sped down highways, who savored her laughter and smiled for the first time. He looked at her, and he felt something so familiar, something sweet and painful at the same time, sinking into his ribs. He knew after they graduated, everything would change. There would be no going back. The future lay before him like some terrifying void, a large expanse of blackness he had to reach his hands through to navigate. He didn't know how he would do it. Severus's hands dug deep into his pockets as he passed one of the outdoor sitting areas. There it was again, the flash of red, like a ghost in his peripherals. He knew she was there, and he froze.
10/24/2018 11:14 PM
A Deeper Darkness
Snape sat at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall, absentmindedly working his hands through a bowl of cashews that had materialized between him and Lucius. He was waiting for Lily to finish her Charms class. They had planned to walk around the lake. Recently, they had been talking about how they didn't seem to make time for each other anymore, and they sought to remedy that. Every Friday they would spend a few hours near the lake and share pastries, catching up on the weeks' events. She was late today, which he found unusual.
"She might not be here, Snape." Lucius was flipping through a book as Mulciber joined them at the table.
Snape peered at him through his hair. "What?"
Lucius flipped another page. "You know Simon Patrick?"
"Yeah?" Snape wasn't close to Patrick. He was a pureblood a year older than Snape. He was very traditional, and avoided Snape most of the time. He made it very clear that he did not approve of Lucius welcoming a Halfblood into their friend group, claiming it didn't matter if Severus hated his father-- his blood was tainted all the same. Lucius would defend Snape, citing his abilities and the fact that his mother's family, the Princes, were a very powerful bloodline. Patrick was not swayed by this and often glared at him when Snape joined the table and stayed silent during conversation.
"He was asking about that Gryffindor girl you always hang out with. He threw a fit when I said she was a mudblood. Said he was sick of seeing you two."
Snape's heartbeat began to quicken. "What was he asking?"
"He wanted to know why you were together."
Mulciber chimed in at this moment. "We said you were probably f***ing her." He snorted, obscenely. Snape's mouth tightened.
"Patrick said something about cursing her textbooks today. She's probably in the Hospital Wing all seared up." Lucius smiled a bit at the thought.
"Why the f*** didn't you tell me about this?" Snape stood up, hands tightly pressed onto the table.
Lucius shrugged. "I thought it was funny? Come on, Snape. You can find other girls! I mean, she hasn't even put out yet has she? You said you've known her since childhood-- it's time to stop trying. She's not a good toy if you can't even play with her--"
Snape swept his arm across the table, spilling the cashews all over his book and the bowl onto the floor.
"How dare you-- GET YOURSELF UNDER CONTROL, SNAPE." Lucius seethed. "She's just a f***ing girl! I have a new one every week! Why the f*** do you keep holding out for this mudblood! You're taking this too seriously!"
Snape didn't listen, jerking out his wand and marching out of the Great Hall. Mulciber was smirking as Lucius cleaned off his robes. They had tolerated Snape's continued involvement with Lily Evans because they assumed Snape was out to bed her. Lucius had made clear some time ago that he didn't care who Snape toyed with physically, but it would be a problem if he wanted to date someone of impurity. That was serious, and he emphasized that he would not hang out with him anymore if he ever considered this. Over the past school year, Lucius had growing concerns with how much time Snape spent around her, fearing that something may be developing between them. For this reason, he hadn't said anything about Patrick. Let the girl get what was coming to her.
Perhaps it was a sick twist of fate, but Snape left the Hall and found Simon in one of the corridors leading to the Grand Staircase.
"Where is she?" He demanded, wand pointed towards him.
"Who?" Simon asked.
"You know who." Snape's eyes seemed to darken more.
"Oh." The boy had a sickly pallor to him. Pale, translucent skin. You could see the veins in his neck. He nearly rivaled Snape in ugliness. "Probably in the hospital wing. I cast an explosive hex on her textbook."
"There might be some scarring." Simon drawled mockingly. Snape's eyes flashed and he sliced through the air with his empty hand. Simon's back slammed into the stone wall behind him. Snape heard the other boy's back crack with the force.
"How DARE you!" Simon screeched at him as Snape's outstretched hand seemed to grip the air, shaking with effort. He was angrier than he had ever been.
At some point during this, Mulciber and Lucius had followed him to the corridor and now had their hands over their mouths, nearly jumping from excitement. They punched each other in the shoulder in glee as they got to witness what they loved about Severus most.
Snape walked closer, something quite different about him. He never approached anyone like this-- not Potter, not his father. He was not loud. He was not explosive. His words were cool, and venomous. His face was still. "You made a mistake."
"Ha!" Simon barked. "No I didn't. I'm sick of seeing you around-- bringing that filthy little bitch with you everywhere! It's blasphemous! We're purebloods, and honestly, I don't know why Lucius let in a dirty half-blood like you. He should have ditched you once you started bringing that mudblood around with you. I knew you were scum when I first laid eyes on you-- agh!" Snape's hands seemed to be gripping an invisible throat, and Simon's pale face began to turn red. Snape pointed his wand at him at the same time, studying his features through dead, beady eyes. Then he smiled widely.
"Do you know why Lucius keeps me around?" Simon, of course, couldn't answer. Continuing on, Snape leaned in closer to him, eyes glinting. "They love my anger." He said. As he spoke, the tip of his wand grew hot, and the tip burned a cherry red. He pressed the tip into Simon's ribs and the boy let out a howl of pain.
"They love my power. The way I harness pain so expertly." Simon's teeth were chattering. "I can make you hurt in a way you have never hurt before, and I'm better at it than you ever will be-- and that's with my filthy father's blood."
Mulciber was howling with laughter and Lucius was smiling at the ordeal. They loved seeing Snape like this. Lucius had first been attracted to Snape's magic when he saw him try to hex James Potter. He was a kind of prodigy, possessing unusual and powerful talent. When Severus harnessed the dark arts, he did so expertly, with a fierce, formidable passion that almost frightened them all. And they loved watching.
"This is a precursor to what will happen to you when I see what you've done to her. I will give you all the same scars as I see on her body. I will melt your flesh until your mother can't recognize you. And I will do so--" He cast a force-jinx, something meant to burst open walls or move objects. Snape used it to magically beat Simon. "Much--" Another jinx. "More."
Simon howled trying to get away from Snape, blood staining his robes. Snape was smiling with his teeth bared now. His eyes were alive and shining. He gave the boy a kick to the ribs before stepping back, leaving Simon clutching his body and sobbing on the floor. There was not a drop of blood on Severus's robes. The other boys were snickering, shouting things to egg him on.
"I told you he was a psychopath!" He heard a higher pitched voice behind him. Alice Something-- he forgot her name. And Lily. Staring at him in horror. Simon was still howling, but Snape stepped away from him. The fire left his eyes. His smile disappeared.
"Lily, are you ok?" His tone changed as he examined her. Not a scorch on her body. She seemed to be fine. She glanced at Simon before answering flatly.
"Flitwick caught the curse before it could deploy."
Snape nodded, relieved, then glared down at Simon for his failed attack. Lucius's face had fallen from its smile. Lily turned to walk past them, and Snape called for her.
"Wait-- are we still--"
"I do not want to see you right now, Severus." She said darkly, continuing to walk.
"Wait! Talk to me, Lillian."
"I don't want to." She snapped, but Snape stepped in front of her. Lucius, irritated, left the corridor with Mulciber. Snape could see that she was shaking in rage.
"Please." His eyes implored her as he stood between her and the exit.
Mouth trembling, she growled at him. "Fine. You want to talk?" Her tone was biting, and Snape flinched. Alice huffed and left the corridor as well, and Lily and Snape entered an empty studyroom. When the door closed Snape went on.
"Why are you so angry?"
"Incredible, Severus. I didn't know you were that thick. You should know." She said. She kept calling him 'Severus,' and he hated it.
"Well, I don't know." He snapped back. "That's why I asked."
"What you did was Dark Magic, and I just can't stand it. I can't stand you doing it." She slammed her bookbag on the floor.
"How was it Dark Magic? It was a jinx."
"Because you did it maliciously! You did it to hurt him!"
Snape scoffed. "Then what the hell do you use jinxes for? Everything we learn in class is some kind of jinx or hex! Wouldn't that mean Hogwarts is just teaching us Dark Magic every day?" He was getting irritated. He had never fought with Lily like this before. "I thought he f***ing blew you up!"
"Yeah, but he didn't and it's no excuse for what you did! We don't use the spells we learn in class to hurt people!"
"Potter uses them on me all the time! Almost daily!"
"What he does isn't the same as what you did!"
Snape was taken aback. Not the same? He stared at her for a few seconds, his face darkening.
"Then at what point does magic qualify as Dark Magic, Lily? How is it that when Potter jinxes my robes, it isn't dark magic when he does it maliciously? But when I hex someone who has tried to hurt you, it is?" He demanded, now in full fury. His yelling disturbed some of the portraits who walked out of their frames to avoid the fighting.
Lily glared at him through her eyes, glassy with tears. Her lip quivered, but her voice was clear.
"When you love it." She said.
Snape's heart felt like it dropped from his chest. His hands went cold.
She stepped forward, her hair tangled and sticking to her wet face. She was crying with rage and perhaps something else.
"I know you love it. I can see it in your eyes, Severus. That's when it stops being just a jinx. I saw the way you looked at Simon, the way you relished his fear. You loved the way he trembled and screamed. You smiled wider than I ever have seen you smile, and it terrified me."
Snape said nothing, his face falling. He could not defend this. She kept going, her voice shaking.
"You're one of them now."
Snape took a breath and discovered that he too, was now shaking.
"What do you mean, one of them?"
"A Slytherin." Her gaze was hard.
"A... Slytherin." He drawled quietly. He seemed to be turning the word over in his mouth, chewing his teeth, his anger now returning. "So that's what you think we are?" His mouth twitched dangerously. "Darkness is our greatest trait, correct?" Sarcasm dripped from his tone, and Lily's eyes smoldered. She said nothing, and Snape took this silence as an answer.
"Believe what you wish, Lillian. But what I did outside was to protect you. Because he could have harmed you, and perhaps you believe that we can always achieve justice without anyone getting hurt, but in reality, it doesn't work that way. He would have done anything to you. That was the only way to put him in line. The difference between other houses and Slytherin, is we aren't afraid to do what we have to to get things done." He spat out.
"I never said that--"
"You've been quick to jump on me all throughout this year about the people I've been seeing, despite whatever I've been doing. This is the first time you've seen me attack anyone who wasn't James Potter, and you're acting like I'm a Death Eater already."
"What you did was wrong, Severus! You won't even admit it-- you liked it! That was too far!"
"You know what? Yes! I did like it. I f***ing loved it! I loved watching that guy scream for what he f***ing did to you. I wanted to see him crumple on the floor, begging for mercy for even thinking of hurting you! So yes! I admit it!" Snape was now yelling.
"I don't want that." She said quietly. "I don't want you to do that for me..."
Severus was breathing hard, chest rising and falling heavily. "Well. I did it." He said, darkly. "And I would do it again."
Lily hoisted up her bookbag. It was clear she was going to leave now. Snape's lips trembled, but his grimace remained. As she brushed past him towards the door, he turned around and called to her back.
"I'm disappointed in you, Lily." She said nothing and kept walking. "I would have thought by now, you would have known what my greatest trait was."
She paused for a split moment. He thought maybe she would answer, but she did not, and she continued through the door. The oak slammed heavy against the stone, and it's echo crashed against Snape's ears.
10/24/2018 09:47 PM
The Long Drive
The title of this is garbage, but I've been enamored with the idea of Snape's teenage years. Here's some recent short writings I've been playing with:
The summer was dry this year. It hadn't rained for weeks, and the grass crunched beneath Snape's shoes as he walked through the Evans' yard. He headed for the front door, where the smell of apple pie sifted through the cracks. Lily's mother was always baking on their holidays. She said it was because she enjoyed it, but Severus suspected that she was just happy her daughters were home from school and wanted to spoil them. She was very different than his own mum-- who, while kind, felt as though she spent Severus's whole life behind a veil.
Sometimes she would come downstairs and they would share a hot cauldron between them. She, briefly, would fill the kitchen with a soft, bright comfort, and fill Severus's chipped cup with teas while explaining all the magical uses of fireplace ashes, or the whiskers of a cat. He basked in those moments he was allowed to have a mother and fantasized about a world in which neither of them had to be afraid before she inevitably extinguished the flames and retreated upstairs as the locks turned in the front door. These moments were rare, and most of the time, Eileen did not do anything except lay in bed.
Severus took a step up onto the porch, but before he could knock, he heard a loud horn to his left. Startled, Snape's eyes widened as he saw Lily slowly inching out of the driveway... in a car?
"Lily?" His nostrils flared in something akin to surprise and alarm. She was seated in the front seat of a grumbling red machine with the letters FORD shining across it.
"Hi Sev!" She waved, clearly delighted with herself. He walked over, placing a hand on the shining metal.
"What-- Where did you get this? And how can you drive it?" He looked it over, aghast.
"My dad thought he should teach me so I can get my license."
"But, we're magical? We'll be able to apparate soon-- this is a bit useless, don't you think?" Severus pointed out, but immediately regretted his choice of words as he saw her face deflate a little.
"I know. It's just Dad wanted to spend more time with me. He knows I'm learning different things now, but he still looked forward to teaching me what he knew of growing up. And I mean," She gestured to the mirror where she hung some gaudy purple, plush dice. "I thought it was kind of fun."
Severus put his hands in his pockets and didn't say anything. Having a father who wanted to do these things-- it wasn't really something he understood. Tobias had very poorly attempted to parent Severus a few times that summer, but it usually didn't end so pleasantly.
"Well... alright. It, um, looks good." He didn't know anything about cars, but Lily perked up again.
"Sev!" She chirped. "Let's go driving! Come on-- please?" Her eyes were a lively green today and despite Severus's growing distaste for muggle contraptions, he said yes. He could never refuse her.
Rolling his eyes, he walked to the other side of the vehicle and sat down on the leather seats. They were in what he later learned was a "convertible," so the wind whipped their hair as they pulled out and sped down the street.
Lily was not afraid of the gas pedal. As soon as they left the city limits of London, she sped through the hills, hands on the wheel, breathing in the country air deeply. Severus's shoulders relaxed somewhat the farther they drove from home, almost enjoying the incredibly inefficient form of travelling. The surrounding fields and trees molded into a long blur as they tore through the afternoon air. They saw almost no one on the road, and eventually she pulled over and gave Severus a grin that immediately made him nervous.
"Erm." He didn't want to ask.
"What?" Now he was afraid. Still smiling at him, she unhooked her seat belt and opened the door. She made her way over to his side and pulled the handle to his door.
"Now it's my turn." She said.
"To be the passenger." Suddenly gears began to turn in Snape's head.
"Oh hell no."
"F*** no, Lily. I refuse."
She put her hand to her chest, mimicking surprise at his cursing. "Oh? Snape refuses! Well, I also refuse to drive so I suppose we'll be here all day."
He glared at her above his beaky nose. "You planned this didn't you?"
She grinned wider before pulling him out of the car.
"Come on, Sev. I promise it's fun. I'll teach you." She half dragged him to the driver's seat and threw him in.
"Maybe!" She laughed, and Snape wondered what kind of enchantment she must have cast on him to make him do her bidding every time. He gripped the wheel and put on his belt.
"There you go!" Lily pulled herself into the passenger seat. "Alright, so you want to put your foot on the break pedal and switch--" She cut off, as Snape already was doing this, putting the car into drive and pulling back onto the road. He even used the damn turning signals.
"Tobias taught me." Snape said simply, not enjoying the memory.
"But--" She was clearly disappointed. "Oh my god, I wanted to teach you!"
Severus gave her a sorry look and shrugged his shoulders as he pressed harder on the gas. "Sorry. I just hate driving, is all."
She huffed as they sped faster. After a while, however, it certainly didn't look like he hated driving. He was quiet, but his face was relaxed. Lily examined her friend, the wind tossing his hair, his chin slightly upturned. He didn't like to show his emotions too fully, but she learned to tell when he was enjoying himself. And he was. Then she looked down.
"Oh my god, Sev! You aren't even pressing the pedals!" She was practically standing in her seat in bewilderment. "You're cheating!"
At this, it was Snape's turn to grin. He kept his eyes on the road.
"Sev! How are you doing that! You can't just do that!" She couldn't believe it.
"Well, clearly I can, Evans. We haven't crashed yet."
"This is dangerous!"
"Lily, we're magic-folk, for gods sake. We'll be fine. Some guy in my charms class got the bones evanescoed out of his arm and he was fine!"
"That's not a real excus--" She cut off, as suddenly something appeared behind them. Red and blue lights flashed a warning from behind their bumper and she put her hand over her mouth in shock. They were going much too fast.
Severus was alarmed at her sudden silence and checked his mirrors. His smugness quickly turned to panic.
"Oh F***, is that---?"
"Sev we have to slow down--"
"That's the muggle police! We're going to f***ing get pulled over by muggle police!"
The cop's sirens came on, signalling that they needed to make their way to the side of the road immediately or risk trying to outrun an officer. Stricken, Snape slowed and they jerked to a stop near a ditch. He stayed deathly still as they heard the door of the cop car slam. He looked over at Lily desperately.
She took a few breaths and seemed to be more at ease. She was wearing a scooped neck shirt, which, to Snape's alarm, she pulled slightly lower exposing her collarbone and some cleavage that he felt incredibly guilty looking at. As the officer leaned against the door, Snape stared at the steering wheel, unsure of where to look. They were very far from home. And they couldn't use spells. Then he heard a slightly more sultry version of Lily's voice speak.
"Oh, hello officer." She purred, lips pouted slightly. It worked. Clearly the cop was interested, and immediately Snape wanted to hex him.
"Hello there." He said, fiddling with his belt loops. "Sorry sweetheart, but do you two know how fast you were going just now?"
Snape still said nothing. Lily cut in. "I'm so sorry sir, I'm teaching my brother how to drive and we came out here because the roads are mostly empty. I'm trying to teach him to keep his speed better."
The officer nodded, smirking at Severus in the driver's seat. "Yeah, well, I've pulled over a lot of people and I'll tell ya, boys love to go fast. Just uh-- keep it at the speed limit and don't do it again." He gave a quick nod, and another gaze at her exposed collarbones before giving the side of the car two hard pats and moving back to his vehicle. Lily continued smiling at him as he drove away, and Snape, suddenly breathing hard, pulled the car back onto the road, turning around towards London.
After a while he said, "So... brother, huh?" Lily had trouble reading his face, but she rolled her eyes.
"I mean, it was better he think I wasn't with someone-- makes you more appealing and the whole thing works better."
"Well you aren't with anyone-- why would he think so."
"Sev." She said. He looked over and she was narrowing her eyes at him incredulously.
"Well, you're a boy aren't you! We're speeding out in the middle of nowhere-- what do you think it looks like?"
"No!" He ran his fingers through his hair, stressed. The whole ordeal took a lot out of him. The officer. His possible assumption of their relationship. Lily's... shirt. He shook it from his mind. "I just-- I'm glad we're going home." He finished abruptly, hands gripping the wheel.
Lily said nothing, but furrowed her brows and smirked at him. She hadn't bothered fixing her shirt, but instead took off her seatbelt and stood up in her seat as Snape drove faster. Open-mouthed, he was about to tell her to put it back on before he was struck by the sight of her, arms outstretched toward the open sun. It was sinking now, casting a golden blaze across the fields. Her hair gilded her shoulders, alight and flaming in the wind, and her eyes, a wild shade of green. Severus could only stare, the words silenced in his chest as they sped towards London.
10/22/2018 10:23 PM
Headcanons: Leather & Whiskey
Typos in this probably. I'll fix it later. I'm just going to save these pieces to the blog to organize later. Please enjoy:
The house was quiet for once. Tobias had drank himself to sleep on the couch, and his mother laid somewhere upstairs on their bed. Severus was spread out on the covers, staring at the ceiling, lazily waving his wand in practiced formations. Through the window, the night was richly filled with cricket song, and Snape could hear the blur of the tv from the living room.
He moved through the motions deftly with his wand. Jinxes. Hex patterns. Charms. He didn’t say the incantation in order to avoid casting, but he practiced this each summer, determined to memorize everything. After a while, he rolled over in the dark, and stared at the window and the rooftops outside until his eyes began to drift.
Suddenly there was a rapping sound on the glass, and his eyes shot open. They narrowed at the window, and he warily sat up, raising his wand aloft.
Again, it sounded, and he saw a small rock was hitting the pane from below. Lowering his wand, he took a few steps forward before lifting the stripped wooden window. Gazing below, his mouth opened incredulously before he looked from side to side throughout the yard.
“Lily!” He hissed. She was waving from below. “What are you doing here? Also what the hell are you wearing?”
“Sev, come down!”
“You’re going to get caught by my dad!”
“Who cares, I can just run. Come down!”
Snape looked behind him for a moment, before stepping to lock his bedroom door and shoving some pillows underneath his blankets. Then he swung a long leg over the railing, and carefully climbed down the side of the house. He had done this many times, especially after attending Hogwarts. He had become very skilled at it, and he landed lightly beside her.
Good Merlin, is that a mini-skirt? He put a hand over his mouth, examining her.
“It’s rude to stare you know,” She edged closer to him, smirking. Snape reddened.
“Why are you wearing that?” The skirt wasn’t all. Her shirt was cropped and distressed. She was wearing a sparkling choker, pumps, and good god-- fishnets?
“It’s for our plans tonight!”
“Our… plans?” Severus was on the verge of panic. “Are you cursed?” He blurted, immediately searching her eyes for any sense of disorientation.
“Oh god, no Sev! No! I heard there was a show tonight and I wanted to go. I thought this would blend in better than, you know, a cardigan.” Suddenly she looked a little out of place in her outfit, like she hadn’t quite grown into it yet. She grinned innocently.
“A show? Like a wizard rock show?”
“No uh, a muggle show.” Snape’s eyes widened. A Muggle show?
“Why would you want to go to a muggle show?” There was some obvious distaste in his tone.
“Well-- they can play music too, you know.” Lily seemed somewhat offended. She crossed her arms. “Is there a problem is it being a muggle show? What’s wrong with muggles?” She demanded.
“I-- um.” Snape was unsure of how to explain himself. In truth, he had a growing dislike for muggles, his father being the only one he had been around recently. But he knew this prejudice would not sit well with her. He shrugged, raising his eyebrows slightly.
“My parents are muggles.” She went on, heated. “And my sister.”
At that, Snape snorted. “I see where you’re going with this, Lily, but I don’t think that example is going to work in your favor. Your sister’s a cunt.”
Despite herself, she smirked, feeling somewhat guilty for laughing. But he was right to a degree. She, herself, would never use the ‘c’ word, but Petunia was being really mean to her lately. Severus was always very blunt about who he liked and who he didn’t. And he hated Petunia.
“These, are, um,” She covered her mouth, hiding a mischievous smile. “These are actually her clothes. I took them from her closet. Mum doesn’t know she has them.”
“Oh my god, and for a second, I almost was about to tell you they looked nice on you.”
Lily punched him in the arm, and he hissed, smiling darkly. “Stop it, Sev!”
“What? She’s gross.”
“Listen, there’s only so much talk I’m going to take about my sister. So you better stop now.” She was still grinning, despite herself. Snape rolled his eyes and gestured toward the lit road.
“Well, I’m already out of the house, so I guess we’ll go to this show of yours. Where is it?”
“Well,” She contemplated. “Alice said it should be a few blocks from here. In someone’s house? Their basement I think.”
“How sophisticated.” Snape drawled with sarcasm. She took his hand, looking him over.
“I think you’ll probably blend in ok, Sev.” He was wearing a black button up, torn unintentionally at the elbow and smudged pants. He frowned at her, trying to pinpoint whether or not that was a bit insensitive, before gripping her hand and placing his other hand in his pocket and following her. He tried not to think too hard about her damn fishnets…
Once out of the Snapes’ yard, they ducked behind bushes, out of view of the street lamps, making their way around the block. Severus was still unused to this side of Lily. He supposed this was her way of living through her teenage years, with random bouts of impulsiveness. First the car trip, now this. But as he looked at her eyes come alive in the dark, he couldn’t help but linger on how innocent she was. This was the first time she had sneaked out of the house for longer than a few hours and farther than his bedroom. Lily Evans was experiencing her first taste of adventure, and she was savoring it. It was mild compared to what the other students were doing on their summers. Snape didn’t want to think of what Lucius was probably doing in Paris. No doubt, it involved multiple girls though and a number of recreational potions. Severus followed her to protect her from any trouble she might find tonight, if nothing else.
They reached a house on the corner eventually, shaded by trees and far enough from the neighbors that the party wasn’t as noticeable. But as they edged closer, they could see the lights swirling through the windows peeking above ground.
“It’s here!” She half squealed. As she turned her head through the bushes, Severus gave her a softer look. She grabbed his hand without hesitating, dragging him to the other side where two tall young men guarded the door, clad in leather. They were frowning, but their faces soon lightened when they saw Lily in her miniskirt. They even smiled a bit.
“Hey, sweetheart.” One said. Snape’s eyebrows furrowed and he stepped forward, wrapping his arm around her waist and she jumped somewhat. The guy didn’t seem to like that, as his frown returned.
“You guys here for the band?”
“Yeah.” Snape said cooly. He blew a strand of hair from his face.
“How old are you?” One of them demanded, looking them over. “We’ve got booze and sh*t. You’re not getting us busted.”
“I’m 21. She’s 20. I’m not letting her have too much.” Snape pulled her closer to demonstrate whatever authority he was claiming to have over her. Lily’s face soured a bit.
They seemed to accept this, and reluctantly opened the gateway to the lit basement below. Snape and Lily descended into the din of amplified roars and bass. It was crowded, smelling of sweat and cologne, and Severus was unimpressed by the racket. Some people were grinding against each other, some already snogging in corners. Many were drinking, and they all cackled loudly as they tossed their bodies around. Snape let go of Lily, muttering a “sorry” but she stayed close to him, her eyes filled with wonder at the crowd and the neon lights. She was smiling widely.
Snape kept his hands in his pockets was the music went on. He kept an eye on her as she navigated the crowd, passing through bodies, giving her fair share of shouts and woos. To his right, a group of boys in similar clothing leaned with shaggy haircuts. He didn’t talk to them.
But someone came out of the crowd and punched Snape in the shoulder. Furious, he spun around.
“Morgan?” He gasped. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Alex Morgan was a year older than Snape, also a Slytherin, and very much a purist.
“What are you doing here Snape?” He asked, half smirking. He raised his left hand which gripped a bucket. It was overflowing with bills. “Oh, well, we own the house so we’ve decided to make money off the muggles.”
“Make money off them?”
“Yeah. Selling the drinks. And other things.” Morgan added. Snape looked around and knew that alcohol was not the only thing present. Suddenly the house seemed a little more sinister.
“Wait, so you’re selling liquor and drugs at these things?”
“Oh yeah! Muggles love the sh*t. F***ing will ruin their lives with it before they stop buying it.” Morgan laughed. “They pay a lot too.”
Severus stared out into the crowd, noticing the smaller figures swaying from side to side.
“Aren’t there underaged people here?”
“Yeah--? Who cares?” Morgan genuinely didn’t understand why Snape was asking so many questions. “You haven’t told me why you’re here though, Snape. Don’t tell me you like muggle rock?”
Before Snape could answer, Lily wove her way back with a large cup filled to the brim with something. She was red-faced.
“Oh my gosh Sev, look what I got. You want to share?”
Snape frowned at her before sniffing the cup. He pulled away disgustedly. “Lily! That’s whiskey!” He snatched it away from her, spilling some of it.
“That’s 20 shots of whiskey, hell, that could kill someone as small as you!”
“What?” She had clearly already had some, unaware of her limits.
“Just-- don’t have anymore.”
“Oh, Snape!” Morgan interjected. “Is this your mudblood pet?”
Lily, despite her drunkenness, slowly turned her face toward Morgan, recognizing him. Her face descended into disgust even faster than it did when she was sober.
“Don’t call me that.”
Morgan ignored her, elbowing Snape. “Lucius said you’d been playing with a toy the past couple years. Is she good?”
Lily processed his words a little slow, but Snape could feel her tense up beside him.
“Stop, Morgan, you’ll upset her.”
“Oops!” He barked. “Wouldn’t want that. She might not f*** you later if she’s in a bad mood. I’ll back off.”
Lily, by this point, was in full wrath. “He’s my friend!” She slurred angrilly. “And he would never use me like that!” She took a step forward to get in his face. “He’d never do anything so vulgar! He’s not like you!”
“Snape, tell your woman to back off.”
“You’re scum.” Lily spit at him, the alcohol clearly affecting her. Severus slid his arm through hers, trying to pull her back. Some people were watching.
“Hey, watch your mouth, Mudblood! Snape, if she doesn’t get out of my face, I’m not afraid to take her out myself.”
“F-F-uck you.” She finally got out. Snape wrapped his arms around her and picked her up as a crowd began to collected. He saw the faces of the two boy outside ready to break them up. “We’re leaving.” He said. He could hear Morgan yelling from the mob.
“Keep her on a f***ing leash, Snape!”
He could feel Lily trying to break through as he got them through the door and back across the yard and in the privacy of the bushes.
“Let me go, Sev!”
“There!” He dropped her on the ground. She tried to stand, and kept falling.
“That was one of your awful friends, wasn’t it! What was he doing there?”
“I don’t know really. We aren’t really close. Lily, how much did you have?”
“I don’t know.” She hiccuped. “Like, some gulps.”
“Just…” Her eyes were filled with tears. “Why are they so terrible? Why do they hate me?” She wrapped her arms around herself, her mascara smearing down her face. Severus kneeled in front of her, placing his hands on both her forearms, steadying her.
“He’s an a**hole.” He said simply, and she gasped for breath.
“I was so… mean… too.” She finally said, breathing hard. Her mouth was slightly open, and Snape’s expression softened. He stared at her, this innocent girl, too goddamn pure for the world. Upset because she said the word “f***.” “I was so angry. I’ve never been so angry before. It was horrible. I’ve never wanted to hurt someone like that before.”
“It’s ok to be angry, Lily.” He said softly. “Sometimes people deserve it.”
“But it’s not right for me to act that way!”
“You’re a person. You’re also drunk. It’s ok. Sometimes we do things we wish we hadn’t.” Severus took a breath, knowing this too well. “You’re one of the kindest people I know. You’re not a bad person because you told some prick to f*** off once in your life.”
She nodded, somewhat comforted by this, wiping her eyes. Snape went on.
“I think tonight’s the first time I’ve heard you curse.”
“No--.” She corrected hazily. “I, I think I’ve cursed before.”
“You think you have?” He laughed. “I think that says all we need to know.”
She gave a small giggle from behind her hands, then said, “Sev, can you take me home?” She said it softly. Severus looked at her, makeup in ruins, face red, and eyes vulnerable in the shadows of the shrubs they were under. He felt a tenderness in him he hadn’t felt before. Silently, he nodded, motioning for her to get onto his back so he can hoist her up. She obeyed, and he carried her heavy body down the sidewalk through the dark morning.
Luckily, her bedroom was on the first floor, so he simply opened the window and carried her in, laying her down on the covers. She was already sleeping, so he put a blanket on her, so her outfit wouldn’t be so apparent when she awoke.
As Snape was climbing out the window, he heard a voice that made him grit his teeth.
She was standing out in the garden, clearly just snuck out herself. Snape smelled a peculiar scent on her.
“Did you and Lily just…?”
“What we do is none of your business.”
She turned her nose up at this, despising being left out. “I’ll tell mom you’re sneaking her out at night. She won’t let you come over for dinner anymore.”
“Yeah?” Severus hissed, jumping down from the sill, and putting his nose in her face. “Then I’ll tell you about that ridiculous wardrobe in your closet, and--” He sniffed. “The weed you have stashed in there too.”
At this, Petunia’s eyes grew big in panic. It seemed everyone was having a rebellious phase. Severus smirked in satisfaction.
“You won’t say a word.” He glared at her before sauntering out of the yard, leaving the girl seething in the night.
10/17/2018 02:04 PM
POST WAR FANFICTION (Untitled)
The following are a series of short pieces I've created that express parts of Snape's life/personality unexplained or left open to interpretation in the books. I tend to follow these for the most part, so feel free to peruse to get a better sense for how I play this character.
Marauders: Snape/Lily | The Long Drive
Marauders: Snape/Lily | A House Show
Marauders: Snape/Lily | A Deeper Darkness
AMORTENTIA: A SERIES OF HAUNTINGS (Coming Soon.)
10/10/2018 09:59 PM
Snape awoke later that evening to the sun beginning to sink beyond the hills. The orange cast of dusk seeped through his curtains, the edges slinking across his bed and the twisted white sheets wrapped around his body. He laid there for a moment, before untangling himself and opening the window. Outside, the night insects had already begun their rich song, and the scent of pine and smoke drifted in lazily as the day ended.
Snape walked barefooted to the other end of the room, ripping apart ingredients and spooning them into the cauldron there. He filled it with water, casting a flame from beneath the cast iron and waited for it to simmer.
The cauldron was his mother's, one of the few pieces of equipment he had salvaged from his childhood home. In the years following her death, it saw more activity than it ever did when Snape was a boy. She kept it hidden beneath the floorboards most of the time, out of sight from his father. He used it with the utmost care, certain that the sentimental value it held only served to strengthen the brews made within it.
He watched the bottom of the cauldron heat to a cherry red and the liquid began to boil. His eyes made figures out of the rising steam. When Tobias went to work in the morning, Eileen would softly come up the stairs and rouse a young Snape from his bed. She’d pull away the threadbare covers and stroke his face. Outside, smoke would rise from gray chimneys, women would go on their walks, cats would weave around the maze of houses. She’d lead him to the kitchen, where she had set up the cauldron and pulled some mason jars from the shelves. Eileen Snape feared her husband, and never made complicated brews or potions that required pungent ingredients. They would start early, so the smell would dissipate before he got home. But these were Snape’s favorite moments. She had started this when Snape began showing signs of magical power. Plates or bowls would switch places in the house. Sometimes the soap would float in the bathtub. Tobias was often too drunk to notice, but she did. And together, Snape and Eileen shared this secret.
She would tell him all the uses of herbs, bundles she kept hanging in the kitchen. She told Tobias they were for cooking. But she tore them, sprig by sprig, and tossed them into the smoke. Rosemary, lavender, sage. Purification, cleansing, calm. They all possessed different properties. Snape watched with wonder at the mixture, as it changed colors, the intimate care she put in. It was a sincere form of magic. A result of meticulous planning, measuring and selecting ingredients, combining them so delicately. Snape was captivated by this, the beauty of process. The possibilities of potionmaking were endless, he later learned. There was a use for everything on Earth. A thousand different combinations, countless complex qualities enhanced and cancelled out with every brew. He explored recipes like a maze, altering his own textbooks even, as he found better, more efficient ways to create. This love was sparked by Eileen, as the small, encased ocean bubbled between them.
She told him she loved potion making for its simplicity. It was an ancient and effective form of magic. Their ancestors had been practicing this for centuries. It was accessible to all sorts of sorcerers—the wealthy, the poor, the oppressed. Snape saw in her face, a twinge of pain as she explained this. She mixed the liquid with a wooden spoon, and she did not have to explain to her son why she loved brewing so much. It was the only form of magic she could do around his father. The only thing she could hide well. When Snape saw his mother absorbed in her work, that was when he despised Tobias the most. His mother was a strong woman, smart, and talented. And here she was crushed by Tobias’s whiskey breath and fists. It wasn’t fair. None of it was.
As the potion was finishing, Eileen began to explain magical history, that objects were infused by power, and power came from a witch or wizard’s heart. This was why Snape showed more signs when he felt strong emotions, why plates would crash down when he was angry or why flowers sometimes grew quickly in the gardens. “Before Ollivander created his method of wandmaking, we would use objects of great sentiment to us.” She explained, sprinkling dried rose stems. “My mother had my grandmother’s hair in her wand.”
“Do you have a wand like that, Mum?” Snape asked, steam settling into his black hair.
“No, darling, I have one from Ollivander. Unicorn hair—remember?” She turned the burner off. The cauldron was still hot.
“But if you didn’t have one from him, what would be in your wand?” Snape pressed further, handing her a vial as she taught him.
Eileen smiled softly, the steam obscuring her eyes. Outside, a bird sang, and the sun filtered in so softly, you could hardly believe that night the house would be full of screaming. For now, it was quiet as the witch stirred the pot with her son. Without saying anything, she plucked a hair from Severus’s head and stroked his face. She then threw it in the rolling sea between them.
Now Snape was an old man, laden in scars and pain. He waited for the potion to finish, before plucking his hair and tossing it into the mix where it dissolved. This was the potion his mother had taught him first. It was for pain. She wanted to teach him something practical and simple. Something he could make fairly easily from gardens or even packets of tea. Snape extinguished the flame, and poured the mix into a teacup and sipped. The brew included basic ingredients for pain management, but incorporated the technique his mother spoke of—using ingredients infused with sentiment. This was a personal recipe of hers. It eased pain by filling the drinker with the impression of feeling loved. Snape’s hair and his DNA traced back through his family, and as he sipped, he felt Eileen’s presence in the scent. The throb of his arm eased, and most importantly, the task of leaving his room for the day seemed less difficult.
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