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Entry tags:
Ghosts (repost), Snape/OFC, 3/48
Ghosts (repost), Snape/OFC, 3/48
Rating: G – hard-R; this chapter G
Author’s Notes:
If you don’t know what this is, please read this: http://rm.livejournal.com/727358.html
This story was originally written in late-2001; despite a recent tune-up, it is in no way compliant with the current state of the HP universe.
Your feedback and commentary are always welcome, even for a time capsule such as this.
If you’re looking for slash, het, poly, Book-6 compliant Slytherin backstory please visit Fascilis Descensus Averno a WIP written with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kalichan. It features Severus Snape, Lucius & Narcissa Malfoy, Bellatrix & Rodolphus Lestrange and Regulus Black and mostly takes place in 1979 – 1981 but has forays both significantly forward and back in time. It is also a multimedia project.
Disclaimer: It’s JKR’s world, I just mess about with it.
"What?!" Snape shouted in response to the knock at his door, regretting, as the visitor creaked the door open, any hint in his tone that he might have actually wanted an answer. Snape turned at his desk, but when he saw who it was didn’t bother, as courtesy would demand, to rise.
"Dear God, Malfoy, can't your sucking up wait 'til tomorrow?" he asked wearily. The new year was just like the old year, clearly, and he hardly needed to feign spiritual exhaustion in the face of it.
Malfoy smiled. "I just wanted to say hello, Sir, since I didn't get to what with you being late to the banquet and all," he said all too clearly hoping for an explanation.
"Hello, then, Mr. Malfoy,” Snape said tartly. “Perhaps you could do me the favour of visiting every other professor here to share your greetings with them as well. Right. Now."
"But, Sir, it's –" the boy stammered.
"Out, Malfoy," Snape replied as he pointed to the door and returned his attention to his work. He smiled to himself when he heard it shut. That boy. He was both boring and dangerous, and would probably loose Slytherin 50 points by morning if he bothered to follow instructions. Although his house would make that up in a week from Potions alone, with any luck it would take Malfoy down a peg.
He drummed his quill against the syllabus he was preparing and sighed. This was always the worst night of the year— waiting to see what new idiots he was going to have to teach. Although, one of the few benefits of the Weasleys, Potter, and that damned uselessly inquisitive Granger girl was that it would be very difficult for things to get much worse. Thank Merlin Neville Longbottom didn't have siblings.
Snape crossed his rooms to pour himself a glass of wine. He studied the cabinet over his small bar as he did, noting the yearbooks from his student years. He really had no idea why he’d kept them, but even if he had burned them he strongly suspected Albus would have, without invitation, found him replacement copies far too promptly.
He pulled one out and brought it over to the table where he'd been working. He flipped past his own year quickly, there weren't many faces there he felt like remembering these days, and then perused the younger students. Eventually he found Allosia's picture, but could not bring himself to look directly at it, instead, being somewhat amused, and most definitely pained, by what she had written there just before he had departed. "How much you do not know." She had only meant to be cruel, and at the time, he was merely embarrassed for her. Allosia had turned out to be right of course, although he did not know to what degree she was aware of that.
Absently, he ran a finger along the edge of her picture, remembering the long hair she had had as a student. "Stupid girl," he said with some small malice, before snapping the book shut. "Stupid boy, too," he added before returning to his work and his wine.
Rating: G – hard-R; this chapter G
Author’s Notes:
kalichan. It features Severus Snape, Lucius & Narcissa Malfoy, Bellatrix & Rodolphus Lestrange and Regulus Black and mostly takes place in 1979 – 1981 but has forays both significantly forward and back in time. It is also a multimedia project.Disclaimer: It’s JKR’s world, I just mess about with it.
"What?!" Snape shouted in response to the knock at his door, regretting, as the visitor creaked the door open, any hint in his tone that he might have actually wanted an answer. Snape turned at his desk, but when he saw who it was didn’t bother, as courtesy would demand, to rise.
"Dear God, Malfoy, can't your sucking up wait 'til tomorrow?" he asked wearily. The new year was just like the old year, clearly, and he hardly needed to feign spiritual exhaustion in the face of it.
Malfoy smiled. "I just wanted to say hello, Sir, since I didn't get to what with you being late to the banquet and all," he said all too clearly hoping for an explanation.
"Hello, then, Mr. Malfoy,” Snape said tartly. “Perhaps you could do me the favour of visiting every other professor here to share your greetings with them as well. Right. Now."
"But, Sir, it's –" the boy stammered.
"Out, Malfoy," Snape replied as he pointed to the door and returned his attention to his work. He smiled to himself when he heard it shut. That boy. He was both boring and dangerous, and would probably loose Slytherin 50 points by morning if he bothered to follow instructions. Although his house would make that up in a week from Potions alone, with any luck it would take Malfoy down a peg.
He drummed his quill against the syllabus he was preparing and sighed. This was always the worst night of the year— waiting to see what new idiots he was going to have to teach. Although, one of the few benefits of the Weasleys, Potter, and that damned uselessly inquisitive Granger girl was that it would be very difficult for things to get much worse. Thank Merlin Neville Longbottom didn't have siblings.
Snape crossed his rooms to pour himself a glass of wine. He studied the cabinet over his small bar as he did, noting the yearbooks from his student years. He really had no idea why he’d kept them, but even if he had burned them he strongly suspected Albus would have, without invitation, found him replacement copies far too promptly.
He pulled one out and brought it over to the table where he'd been working. He flipped past his own year quickly, there weren't many faces there he felt like remembering these days, and then perused the younger students. Eventually he found Allosia's picture, but could not bring himself to look directly at it, instead, being somewhat amused, and most definitely pained, by what she had written there just before he had departed. "How much you do not know." She had only meant to be cruel, and at the time, he was merely embarrassed for her. Allosia had turned out to be right of course, although he did not know to what degree she was aware of that.
Absently, he ran a finger along the edge of her picture, remembering the long hair she had had as a student. "Stupid girl," he said with some small malice, before snapping the book shut. "Stupid boy, too," he added before returning to his work and his wine.