Authors Note: Well, I suppose first of all I don't own Harry Potter, that's J.K.Rowling's creation. Umm…any original characters are mine I guess, though I don't think there will be any, but just in case. This is my first Harry/Severus fic so I'm sorry if I'm a bit off. I'm not really sure where this is going, if it'll be a friendship fic, or if I'll make it more. So ya, if you have any preference just let me know heh. Also, this entire fic for the most part is Severus's point of view but if it changes you'll know. But enough blabbing, onto the fic.
For starters, I do hate Harry Potter. Every fiber in my body adds to the strength with which I loathe the boy. Him with his bright, lively green eyes and always ruffled black hair. His stupid, undying courage and recklessness will one day get him killed. That's how he gets himself into so much trouble in the first place. One would think he'd tire of it after a while, but oh no, not him. He just keeps going and going. And yet, no matter what happens, even when he should have been killed, he triumphs on. Yes, I definitely hate the boy who lived. I was just curious.
t was what may appear to be a normal day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Students roamed the halls aimlessly talking about their little petty lives. Honestly I can hardly believe that when I'm old and retired these are the people who will lead the next generation of witches and wizards. It is really a frightening thought. If these children put half as much energy into their potions homework I would not be sitting here now almost on the verge of tears. Lucky for me, I haven't cried in ages. Just as I was going to refill my supply of red ink the clock struck 6:00, a sigh escaping my lips as it did.
I was truly grateful for the break in grading however a small spot of disappointment was present. Out of all the 6th year Gryffindor and Slytherin papers I felt myself almost eager to read Potter's. It left me with a somewhat relaxed feeling to smother his homework in red ink. Yet somehow I couldn't help but wonder why he was doing so poorly, worse than usual anyway. Then again, he probably is just having trouble fitting it into his busy social agenda. If that is the case then I'll have to reprimand myself later for bothering to wonder.
Making my way down the long halls of the school I took a few house points here and there. Perhaps it wasn't the nicest thing to do at the time, but it certainly made me feel a bit better after wasting minutes of my thoughts on the savior of the wizarding world. However, I must say that the creation of the D.A. was a somewhat bright idea. The students were able to get themselves out of that mess they managed to get into last year. Oh for Merlin's sake! Why do I care??
Finally entering the Great Hall I was able to escape my thoughts. Students were loudly chatting about their days as I made my way to the front. Along the way I heard what sounded like "greasy git" and make a mental note to take some extra points away later in the evening. Is it my fault if they don't pay attention to who can hear what they speak of? I was greeted by Albus and his forever twinkling blue eyes. The same eyes that always seem to be gliding past my outward appearance and right into my thoughts. It is actually quite annoying. Hasn't he ever heard of the word privacy?
Everything was just as it normally was, Albus was talking with Minerva about some muggle contraption. I on the other hand ate in utter silence, and very much liked it that way. There was something slightly amiss however. The golden Gryffindor trio that seemed ever present in danger, was now only a duet.
No matter how much I attempted to push it to the back of my mind, it was nearly impossible not to wonder why he was absent from dinner. Students are not technically forced to attend dinner but for the most part everyone was always present, except for now. Of course, he could be studying, perhaps trying to raise his potions grade. A low chuckle escapes my lips as that thought is dismissed from my head. Of course…perhaps he was plotting against me, yes, that must be it. Plotting away on how to get rid of his "greasy old git" of a potions master. I'll have to be on alert…after all, he was friends with the Weasley twins.
Finishing my dinner a tad bit early I decided to leave the Great Hall and give my head a rest. It is already horrible that my head aches after my classes, the same thing is not necessary during meal times. I decided to finish grading the 6th year papers before finally being able to rest. Pushing back my chair I stood up, giving nothing more than a nod to the headmaster who's glance seemed to be fixated on me. I glared slightly and then turned swiftly to leave, my black robes billowing behind me. Honestly, I'm quite fond of the way they billow. I don't understand how some find it absolutely awful. With a shrug of my shoulders I quickened my paces and soon enough was back in the dark, damp comfort of my dungeons.
Indeed, they really were MY dungeons. I've taught down here for many years and surprisingly enough have become somewhat of a home to me. Some may believe I only love the darkness and become a vampire in sunlight, but that is very untrue. I enjoy a nice day just as much as the little brats roaming the halls. It just so happens that I have an appearance to maintain. Severus Snape, the ex-death eater, spy for the Order, and greasy git of a potions master. For Merlin's sake though! I'd like to see some of these insolent children spend day after day down here and see what it does to their hair. Being around potions all day is bound to have some effects.
As I sat down in the wooden chair next to my desk I can't help but wonder what possessed Dumbledore to buy these specific chairs. I'd say they are rather uncomfortable. The desk is blanketed with scattered homework assignments from the previous day, each of them decorated with my insults to their work. I swear, how some of these students made it to my N.E.W.T. potions class I'll never know. I am, however, glad to say that the younger Weasley boy finally left, he really was quite a nuisance. The Granger girl still remains though, accompanied by Potter. Speaking of which…
I look from paper to paper until I find one with the name Harry Potter scratched in the corner. The assignment had been a simple one: Record what was done in class that day or should have been done. Let me just say that I wasn't entirely shocked that Potter had gotten into my N.E.W.T. class. The boy did possess SOME knowledge in that brain of his. He just chooses not to show it much of the time. This is why I simply cannot understand what has been happening as of late. Scanning down his paper I can barely make sense of whatever it is he has written. My hand is starting to cramp from all of the corrections and it looks almost as if the paper was originally red.
When I next glance up at the clock it is nearly midnight. I have just spent 5 ½ hours grading homework and I swear if I see one more paper to grade I'm going to burn it and claim the student never passed it in. Honestly, sometimes I wonder if I should bother with homework at all. Of course, it's not like I have anything else to do, so yes, I suppose it fills in the time where I would be sitting in my chambers being completely idle.
I stand up and make my way towards the door, the lights turning off with a wave of my wand. The large wooden door creaked loudly on its rusty hunges as I shut it and walk up the long, spiral staircase towards the main floor. Of course, once I reach the endless hallway I'm met with a sight I had not expected to see. Stepping silently I slowly inch towards the nearest window, where I see none other than Potter in front of me, well, part of him at least. Trying to hide under that damned cloak of his, he doesn't use it very well, but I know it is him. My brows furrow in slight concentration. Just what is he up to.
I wasn't left with much time to think about it however, for a small "Hmm…" escaped my lips and he knew. The light clicking of his shoes filled the silence and he was gone. Yet, there was still something there in the place he had sat moments ago. As I move closer the object came clearly into view, it was a journal. Potter's journal. Now this was definitely not something that occurs everyday, not at all. My fingers lightly brush over the black leather cover, dipping down in the places where golden letters spelled out the word "JOURNAL." Not knowing what else to do I picked up the book and went back to my quarters.
Upon reaching my room the small book was tossed onto my nightstand and I collapse on my forest green armchair, a sigh of frustration leaving my mouth. Just what was I supposed to do with this book? Give it back was obvious, but just what was inside? Every passing second I felt more and more like a child on Christmas morning, craving to open the gift and see what is inside. Yet…the boy is entitled to his own privacy right? Everyone deserves at least that much. Then again, he WAS breaking school rules after all.
The picture of Potter as he sat writing flashes through my mind. His normally jubilant eyes had seemed so dull, nothing like he appeared normally. My eyes dart to the book again and I slowly rise from my seat and closer to the nightstand. With each step I feel myself drawn to the book. Without thinking I look down and the journal is in my hand, staring up at me. Oh hell, no one ever said I was fair anyway. So slowly, the cover opens. I am curious.