snape, severus }{ [complete]

[severus allen snape]

unpolished, bitter, forlorn, prejudice, servile

you know i can't take one more step towards
you, 'cause all that's waiting is regret.

ninth of january, 1960

spinner's end, established sometime when people still cared about their villages, became one hell of a run down town. the window shutters were either falling off or already laying on the ground broken. people didn't take care of their lawns, their houses, or their dysfunctional families. every once in awhile you could find some pour souls, good souls, just trapped in the evil ways of the world around them. but mostly, you only ever saw people like tobias and elieen snape and today they were giving birth to one of the most unfortunate of souls ever to happen upon spinner's end. he had a head full of black hair, and deep coal black eyes contrasting that pale skin. no matter how much sun he got, it didn't change his fair skin from that deathly color. not even a little bit. they named him severus allen snape. he had a long off second cousin named allen, a muggle lost to the pages of history, remembered always in his father's memory though -- the two of them drowned the old family cat together on accident of course. tobias and eileen were excited to welcome their new son, but the rough times surrounded his childhood and in time turned his father against him. abuse, solitary confinement, and the unimaginable heartbreak that grew out of his teenages years transformed severus just as much as spinner's end changed from the time it was established. now laying broken on the ground, like a forgotten shutter crushing the once beautiful garden, severus enters his sixth year at hogwarts school. so much time since 1960.

hogwarts school, 1976

the stone walls of hogwarts castle, though they'd appear to be quite drafty, old, and in any other sense just plain moldy, but which were toasty and protective of the magical inhabitants of hogwarts. slytherin house was fit snuggly in the dungeons, the dark not really meaning a sign of evil, and any stereotype was purely a random happenstance. severus was sorted and coldly accepted into the green and silver colors, and drug out his days at hogwarts with their mark upon him. he was quite cunning and ambitions, but ambition was a double edge sword for our slippery friend. it always seemed to take him one step towards his goal and two steps behind any real socially acceptable behavior. he was picked on and disgraced, allowed only to walk behind the most prestigious of all students, but carefully calculating their shortcomings as he watched with his two black, absorbing eyes. his wand became his only life line, and in times of trouble, he desperately clung to it. the shame of a few too many curses of boils set his apt brain to work. singularly devising a list of his own spells to get back at those that stung. they were like bees...their stingers would hurt, but only wound and then more often than not they would dance away never to touch him again, as if they were dead to him. but there was james, the rotten bully if ever he could be immortalized as anything short of glorious. james kept coming back to hurt and eventually to haunt. hogwarts, as protective as it tried to be had utterly failed severus. his heart was a wound that no strength or courage could ever really fix. still yet, hogwarts was better than spinner's end had become. the family he had left behind there every autumn to find his way on the hogwarts express, they had let him know just how worthless he was to them. each summer was a blistering, burning scar that crossed him year after year. and that made hogwarts really just like a home to him. the many corridors could hide a slender boy with greasy black hair in the shadows quite easily. and a job as professor would grant a weak soul the power he needed to feel complete. the place grew on him, his studies grew ever more important, and on reaching his sixth year, severus had found that hogwarts replaced any real need for friendship.

and all this time,

when he first picked up his wand at olivanders, that rather stout and sturdy piece of elm, he really didn't expect anything great to come of him. even at eleven he was doubting himself. now armed with a wand, school robes, and many old half priced school books, severus was off to meet the world. severus turned into snivellus, and the doubts grew larger. there was always a friend or two who would pass by, but none as great as lily evans. the memories of old, still put a twinkle in his eye and a delightful smile upon his thin, dry lips. when spinner's end had reach the brink of hell, the smart witch found severus. in time the friendship grew into more for the boy. her brilliantly changing body set his hormones all on fire, as they did for other boys as well. hogwarts would leave more than one imprint on severus. each year he walked through that dormitory, hearing more and more mentions of muggles and dirty blood. the stains that their fellow muggle-born students had put on the once prestigous idea of salazar slytherin were driving those in green and silver nearly mad. most kept to their inner circles, condemned any outsiders, but severus just couldn't let go of lily. until he made a mistake and she was wrentched out of his hands forever. mudblood isn't a term one would hear in civilized conversation. and the years grew colder, and the tempers grew hotter, and by the time severus was old enough to make up his mind..he really only had one choice left.

you have my word.

"i didn't drown the cat! i've never even owned a cat. you have my word. i couldn't kill something so innocent, not like that. i couldn't just hurt someone or something before it's hurt me. see 'an eye for an eye' bloody well works when there's pain involved. and there's pain involved. there's so much of it, it's like the cat's drowning me. that big, black, overwhelming cat that's hidden in every room right underneath the white elephant. it's meowing and bringing attention to itself, but i'm not lying either! white and black and blue and purple, it all hurts just the same. so maybe, when the cat scratches..then i'll drown it. nothing can come of me when i'm alone. there's not enough good in me. i need that pureness, that simple beauty and brains that cares and loves. love never would shine on me. but clouds came and rained down on my despised little head. just make sure you know this. it was them who messed with me. it was that pretty boy, quidditch star, him that turned my thoughts on me. i won't let the flower wither, but i'll sure as hell destroy the weed. you have my word."

-severus allen snape

NAME: Jillian
EXPERIENCE: four years
CONTACT: girlgeek42@yahoo/live.com
MEMBER TITLE: snape snape severus snape

CHARACTER'S:
BIRTH DATE: jan. 9th 1960
HOUSE: slytherin
HAIR COLOR: black
EYE COLOR: black

The air was chilly outside, but nothing more than what was expected this time of the year. The clouds were wispy, and didn’t stay long in the air, and the sun shone through warming those lucky enough to be standing just where it’s rays hit. Ana moved to English streets, past shadows and into the sun, and then back into shadows again. The streets, at this time of day, were especially crowded. It was noontime, and pubs were filling up, the noises of their full to the brim customers filtered through the walls out into the streets. There were corner cafés, and patio restaurants that busied through the lunch hour, their seats constantly changing from one hungry person to the next. Ana’s two inch high heels clicked over cobblestone and cement, hidden by the long robe she wore over her business dress style. The robe was a brilliant maroon color, and her brown hair cascaded down the back in straight, silky locks, her face all dead set and determined to get where she was going. A few people turned to look as she strode by them, the robe was peculiar, but mostly those people were youngsters with no idea of the world outside of their common lives. The adults shook the feeling that a strange woman was in their presence, but they pulled their children closer to them all the same, making quite sure to keep their faces adverted from hers. Ana didn’t notice this one bit, nor did she care.

The Leaky Cauldron, a run down type business in the city, was the point of her work that day. With the hidden doorway and the rusty sign out front, it wasn’t exactly the hot spot of the lunchtime crowd. In fact that was why it was so desirable for a woman like Ana. She slipped into the crack of doorway that stood ajar, and let her eyes adjust to the dimly lit, tavern style pub. Behind the counter, hunched over a dirty mug with a surprisingly clean rag in hand, was a bald man with a whistle on his lips. Ana, very politely, glided over to him and smiled. He didn’t look up for quite some time, and it took Ana’s shaky, quiet voice to initiate this conversation. She coughed slightly at the dust that flew into her mouth as she opened it to talk, and then quickly spit out the question at hand. “To Diagon Alley?” She stood, her hands wrapped around her robe, the pub didn’t do much of a job of keeping the cold out, and she waited with slightly baited breath. The man looked up, tossed his rag to the side, and slid his mug down below the counter and out of sight. Ana kept smiling, her red lips curved in a very faint upward shape. He let out a grunt and used his rather bulky right arm, whether it be bulky in the sense that there were muscles or not Ana didn’t know, to motion to the bar stool she stood next to. Ana, unsure of his comprehension, coughed again and spoke, a bit louder this time. “I need to get to Diagon Alley, and I’m afraid I don’t know the way. I’ve only ever traveled by floo powder before.” He grunted again, and Ana’s voice shivered in the chilly breeze. Another grunt and she hastened to sit down, afraid of where this was going.

The bald man got back out his mug and rag, once again setting to the routine, circular motion of cleaning. Ana sat, looking literally like a lump on a log, just staring at him. Mildly amused, she bent down to look at him on his level, and pushed her own hand out to get his attention. The bald man stepped back furiously, and with that effect Ana’s hand shot back to her own side, colliding into the mug on its way. The cup shattered on the floor by the barman’s feet, and Ana tried to hide in her large robe and long mane of hair. A stutter of an apology later and Ana was on her feet once more, heels clicking where she stood as she shifted her weight over from foot to foot in the effect that she was late for a meeting or some other type of excuse. “Sir, I…” He grunted once more, whipping out his stub of a wand and repairing the mug just before her eyes. He stuffed the knotted wood back into his pocket and shifted down the bar a few steps to get away from Ana while he cleaned. He nodded his head up to the menu above the bar and waited for Ana to make her contribution. She sat back down, hesitating just before her behind hit the hard, cold surface of the stool.

[sorting hat]