Snape's Poem

I don't know how to say I love you

I dare not say I care

Everyday my love grows stronger

It will never fade away

You make me laugh you make me cry

You make me feel insane

You'll never know the way I feel

The way I feel your pain

I want to shout it from the roof

To scream it in the street

Tell all my friends the way I feel

How I fall down at your feet

But here I sit in your potions class

Alone in space and time

You never look towards my chair

To tell me if you care

One day I'll look at you I know

And tell you how I feel

But till that day I'll stay this way

The one who loves you true

Professor Snape read over the poem again. He was puzzled as to who had left it in his classroom. He had managed to work out that it was someone from his Slytherin and Gryffindor class. The one with Harry Potter and his little friends. But which student could it be? He shivered as he thought about some of the pupils. He could never ask them directly. After all it was probably some student messing about. It was not unknown for the students to play pranks on the teachers. But if it wasn't a prank one of his students had a crush on him. Rather than directly question he would keep a look out. The author would have to give themselves away at some point. And when they did Snape would be ready for them. He wouldn't stand for this kind of thing, joke or no joke. It just was not acceptable.

The author of the poem sat on the front lawn of Hogwarts. Snape must have found the poem by now. What did he think? Oh why had they left the poem? How stupid! Snape was not into that kind of romantic thing. He would probably go mad if he found out who had written it. Perhaps he had not found it yet. It might still be lying on the desk. Yes and then they could sneak back in and no one would have to see it. Yes they would go now and get it back. Everything would work fine. No one would ever need to know about their secret love for Professor Snape.

Snape looked at the poem again. Yes it was badly written but it had a kind of funny charm to it. The person who had composed it had obviously spent some time doing it. But still that was time they could have spent studying potions, rather than wasting their time on a silly thing like this. He would never be caught composing such childish rhymes. No, this was definitely not his kind of thing. He picked up the poem and was about to throw it in the bin, when he stopped. Instead he placed the poem carefully in his bottom drawer. There would be no harm in keeping it. Well at least until he found out who had written it. Then he would dispose of it.

The author crept along the corridor desperate to make it to the classroom. Only a few feet to go and they would be able to reclaim the poem. Perhaps it would not be so bad if Professor Snape found it. At least all the feelings would then be out in the open. No more pretending, no more lying to people. Perhaps Snape would feel the same way. Yes the poem would allow him to show his true feelings. No that would never happen, Professor Snape was not that kind of man. He would either expel the author or laugh them out of Hogwarts. The author had finally reached the classroom. Slowly and quietly they slid inside trying desperately to avoid detection. There was no one around but the slightest noise could change that. The author crept closer to Snape's desk, desperate to get to the spot where the poem had been dropped. Nearly there.

Snape heard the faint sound coming from his classroom. It had to be the author back for the poem. At last he would discover who had penned it. But did he really want to know? Perhaps it would be better never to know. Just to leave it to the imagination. After years of experience Snape had discovered that the imagination was nearly always better than the real thing. Not this time he thought, this time he needed to know. Then he could put the whole matter to one side. He opened the door suddenly and was confronted by the author. "You?" All Snape could do was stare with amazement..