So the majority wanted my Harry Potter one shot! So that is what you will get as my story of the week:) I know maybe a few of you have already read it on my old writing blog, but I hope you’ll be up for a second read.
This was written as a part of my iWrite module at AUT University, New Zealand.
I am very proud to tell you that my teacher gave me an A for it and told me it filled the brief of Fan fiction perfectly.
So this is purely ficition, I’ve just taken the liberty of borrowing J.K.Rowling’s character. I am in no way trying to copy her genious work nor steal from her.
I’ve also been inspired by the song If you’re reading this by Tim McGraw, I hope you’ll like it.
The curled-up letter was lying at his feet; he hesitated for a moment before picking it up again, uncurling it as he got back up to his feet.
It was wrinkled and the writing had started to smudge off slightly, the paper having been curled and uncurled countless times, the beautiful handwriting still stared up at him, urging him to read the words.
He ran his fingers through his black, greasy hair, his hollow dark eyes taking in every feature of the paper in his hand, as if it could change the writing or make it go away.
He closed his eyes and imagined the words being written, her hand dancing over the paper, her green eyes fixed whilst in deep concentration.
If you’re reading this,
I’m already home.
He swallowed. The letter was dated about ten years earlier, but he had only recently come across it. He had not been meant to find it earlier. Even though somehow he wished he had.
You move on and find someone else and that’s okay
Just remember this
I’m in a better place
Soldiers live in peace and angels sing amazing grace.
He recalled the evening The Dark Lord had set out to kill the boy.
Severus had begged for him to spare the mother, the woman he cared for more than anything else in the world, the woman he loved.
That was the last time he had seen The Dark Lord, but he had never dared to believe that he was gone completely, knowing that if he were to return, Severus’ own position would be a lot safer if he remained where he was.
He had been a coward, seeking refugee with Dumbledore within the walls of Hogwarts, and for the last ten years he had been struggling to cope with his own selfishness.
He could have tried harder, he could have saved her, and now she was gone and that arrogant husband of hers were gone.
He did not concern himself too much with James, but her, even after all these years, it hurt to think about her. Not a single day went by that he did not miss her or think about her.
Finding this letter, dated the evening of her death, intensified his long-suppressed feelings and threatened to bring them bubbling to the surface.
He had always been portrayed as cold, heartless and sarcastic, but that was the only way he knew to prevent anyone from finding out, and by now he had grown sp thoroughly into his role, he no longer had to act. If only they had known that underneath that rock-hard icy surface of his was a heart, a heart being refused to love by his own stubbornness.
His eyes returned again to the letter curled up in his fingers. He must have been rolling it unconsciously.
I know as you read these word now That you never told anyone about what we shared.
(as you know I am an expert when it comes to hexes and I have made sure you will not be able to read it until I need you to)
I do not deny that we had something beautiful; It means so much more than I ever could put into words.
I know it was hard for you to accept that my heart now lies with someone else.
I love James, but you should know that one piece of my heart will always be yours
His dark eyes were now blank as tears welled up. For first time in ten years he let his emotions get the better of him.
He had indeed thought about that last time, knowing there was no one to share it with, the last time she had touched him and smiled at him, the very last time he had spent minutes staring into those deep green eyes, drowning in their compassion.
Every time he imagined those eyes, he fell in love with her again.
All the feelings he had back then returned, when he closed his eyes he was not Snape the Potions Master, head of Slytherin House at Hogwarts.
He was just Severus, just himself.
You reading this, means I will not be there to send him off, but you will be there
To see him arrive
He had seen her son only once, the night she had died.
He had gone to warn her, but he had frozen outside, staring through the window of the happy family.
The baby racing around the living room on a small broom, his laughter filling every inch of the room as his parents watched him speed up, almost knocking his father off his feet.
Was this little cub a threat to the great Dark Lord?
How could someone who was part of her be the last obstacle on his Master’s road to eternal glory?
An anger was building up inside him just thinking that the boy would walk through the gates only hours from now. He would be breathing the air that should have been hers, seeing things that she would never see and being alive when she had so brutally been denied the right to continue living.
He was bound to look like her in some way; would Severus have to walk around for the next seven years being constantly reminded of his own cowardice?
Glancing down at the now tear-stained parchment, palms touching his cheeks to find them wet, the mere thought of James Potter’s son awoke a long sleeping loathing inside him, but the knowledge that he was also her son, mixed warmth into spite.
He folded the letter and pocketed it as he hurried off to wash his face, running his fingers through the black hair yet again and wrapping his cloak tighter around his body.
He found himself scanning the Great Hall as the students piled inside and found their tables.
Any moment now the boy would walk through that door and walk into his life.
The door sprung open and the first-years flowed in behind Professor McGonagall in a straight line, looking around nervously.
It was easy to pick him out from the crowd.
Even without the scar, Severus would have known him.
Those green eyes were just like his mother and the black hair partly concealing the lightening-shaped scar made him look a lot like his father too.
He knew then that he would have to spend next seven years being reminded of her and of that one night they had shared just over eleven years ago.
He is strong and determined, like his dad; like you.
I could never tell James the truth, he would not understand.
I know it must be hard, but I hope in time you will grow to love Harry,
Care for him and look after him.
I will always love you my dear
He was alone once again with the letter he had read over and over again for the past couple of hours.
He did not know if he ever would be able to accept Harry, but he would always be a part of him and of her; the result of the love that no one could ever know about.