Rating:
PG
House:
Astronomy Tower
Characters:
Fleur Delacour Severus Snape
Genres:
Romance Drama
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Goblet of Fire
Stats:
Published: 12/04/2002
Updated: 12/04/2002
Words: 1,021
Chapters: 1
Hits: 1,057

The Spring of Hope

inez stanley

Story Summary:
Severus has fallen, quite unexpectedly, in love with the one person he has tried so hard not to pay attention to. These are his thoughts on his new feelings, and what to do with them. A prequel to a much bigger Snape saga.

Posted:
12/04/2002
Hits:
1,057

The Spring of Hope

By Inez Stanley


     You are too young for me. I know that.

    There is a lightness to your laugh, a spring in your step, that tells me. Something in the air. I would know even if I couldn't see your beautiful face.

    But there is something in your eyes. Something older. Could it be that your youth is a mask for all of your pain? Are you hiding something? Are there secrets in your head, crouching beneath your crown of golden hair?

    Oh, what you've done to me. I'd given up hope of ever being happy. But in your presence I'm made calm. I try to put on my face of wrath and anger every morning, but all I can see is you, and I- yes, I, Severus Snape- I have to smile.

    I've been told you have Veela blood. I've had my share of experiences with Veela. I like to think I'm immune. When you performed at the first task, I felt nothing. I was probably the only male human being there whose eyes didn't bulge out. Even Headmaster Dumbledore's fists clenched, and Karkaroff was in desperate need of a cold shower. But now it's different. I suppose I wish that I could I remember how to feel. I'm like the Tin Man from that ridiculous Muggle story. He wanted a heart, as do I. I want a heart, and I want years restored to me, so that I could be worthy of you.

    I've been watching you. At meals, in passing in the hallway, even in my mind. I saw your transformation from spoiled and selfish to kind and appreciative. I envy that you can allow others to see the better side of you. You don't have to worry for your own safety, like I do. Even if I only worry because I have to- because I can't let Dumbledore down. There's more to me than others realize. I feel as though perhaps there is more to you than others realize, as well. You see, I dream about you. And then I wake up and I wonder why, and I think it is because you remind me of- of myself.

    What a travesty. You remind me of myself. The very thought is an insult to you. You're young and beautiful and attractive and graceful and...I'm hideous. I've banished all mirrors from my presence. They would shatter if they came within a quarter mile. One did once, although it was probably due more to a charm performed by Sirius Black and James Potter than to my appearance. But still, you are too fair to have anything to do with me.

    And yet, I wonder...

    Despite all my Death Eater training, I find myself thinking about myself for once. A true Death Eater would give up all bodily desires, all feelings, all doubts, everything for the greater good, the rise of Lord Voldemort. Most did not. Most were too selfish, only joining for personal gain. But there were some- those in Azkaban, the ones who had died, Crouch-they paid attention. They were willing to make the sacrifice I thought I was, too. When I came back to Dumbledore, I refused to even think about myself. My knowledge hadn't gone away-my training. But because of you, I am unlearning it all. I'm beginning to fancy that perhaps I have some worth as a person; that I can go back to how I was before; that maybe I really am like the Tin Man- I had a heart all along.

    Ah, sometimes I want you so much I can't breathe. Sometimes when the pain is unbearable, the thoughts of all I have done, all I have been- indeed, all I still am- even that knowledge is replaced, temporarily, in my mind by the single thought that somewhere in the same building there is Fleur, there is a lovely golden Flower to take me from my Winter of Despair and into a Spring of Hope. When only a moment ago it was the Worst of Times, the Season of Darkness, and We Had Nothing Before Us, the thought of you leads me into the Best of Times, the Season of Light, and suddenly we have Everything Before Us. I barely know you, truly, but somehow I am satisfied by your mere existence.

    On the nights when I dream of you, it always starts out the same. We're on a terrace together, overlooking the grounds of Hogwarts. Your hair is swept up in an elegant knot, and you wear a red robe. I look the same as always. We're talking. Then it varies. Sometimes we leave separately. Sometimes I walk you to your rooms, and then I go away unsatisfied to my own. Sometimes we go into a ballroom adjoining the terrace, and I lead you in a waltz, and we dance until our feel hurt and laugh until our stomachs hurt. Then I kiss you lightly on the forehead, and we part, like actors gracefully gliding off the stage and into the wings.

    There is another dream about you. It starts out the same way the others start out, with the balcony, the red robe, the conversation. But then- it's foggy. I can never remember what happens beyond the balcony, but this we walk away from together, and we gaze at each other with an expression I've never used or seen. That is all I remember from the dream, but I wake up from it feeling more tired than before I go to sleep, as if it makes me ache. It makes me feel weak.

    Could those dreams ever come true? Do I want them to? Do I have a Weasley twin's chance in Azkaban to change, to be happy, to fall in love, to have pictures of greasy-haired, hook-nosed children to decorate my bare desktop?

    The odds are about as good as those of my dressing in drag and singing the entire Rocky Horror Picture Show soundtrack with the rest of the faculty as backup, atop a table in the middle of the Great Hall. But...

    Nothing's impossible.



*grin* I like that last image for some reason. Thank you for reading. Stay tuned- more to come. :)