Disclaimer: I own nothing
Severus Snapes's first true love
I've never been good at telling stories. I never knew how to start them, until my old instructor told me to start from the beginning. As so many stories before mine, this one started happily… and ended tragically. This is the story of my first and only true love.
I saw her first time at Diagon Alley. I was visiting a new clothing store when I saw her. I can still remember how the cloak in my hand fell soundlessly to the ground and how the time seemed to stop. I could only stare, she was simply perfect.
I felt how my breath started to move in grasps and how my hands started to sweat. My beautiful hands, that didn't sweat even during brew of the hardest potion, were now letting me down.
I took a loud swallow and forced my legs to move towards her. I was nearly few meters away, when another man came and took her away, right before my eyes. I could have cried in agony. The pain in my heart is still unbearable when I think of that moment.
Of course I couldn't let her go without a fight, not even if she was willing to go with the man. And I knew she wasn't happy with him. Moreover, she didn't have a clue about the joys she could experiment in the care of my professional hands. The only option I had was to follow them out of the store.
I observed the man. He certainly wasn't worthy for her. He was big, and ugly, and wore grey robes with a brown shirt underneath. Honestly, even I knew how bad grey and brown looked together! My heart was breaking, because my pity for her. Therefore, it became my mission to save her from him.
I followed them to a dark pathway near the end of the Diagon Alley. Few days ago it had rained and the ground was soaking with water. All the sewers were floating, and I couldn't understand what possessed the man to bring her to that awful place. Only her wellbeing in my mind made me do my move.
I gripped the man's hand and politely asked him to hand her to me. The man didn't see my point. He started to argue with me, called me a freak and lunatic and refused to let me have her. So I attacked.
I gripped her instead of the man's hand and pulled. And still the man didn't let go of her. Therefore, I pulled harder, until I heard the most heartbreaking voice I've ever heard. I heard a cloth being torn apart. Shocked I let go of her exactly while the man did the same.
Second time that day the time stopped. I watched her ripped pieces fall to the wet and dirty soil. Her beautiful and bright colours were fouled with the mud and rubbish on the ground. Slowly I fell to my knees in front of her. My world was falling apart. I didn't even hear the angry words the red faced man was yelling above me, all I could see were her dishonoured pieces.
That was the last time I saw her. That was the last time I cried. And to her memory I still, to this very day, wear black. I can't bring myself to look at any other colour without comparing it to her brightness and glory. She was the first thing I truly cared for… and the last.
A/N This is something I wrote the other day so that I wouldn't have to do my german essays (I returned them in late and nearly fail my course…:D)
To clear thing up: "She" wasn't a person. Your mission, dear readers, is to guess what she was! Good luck! (BUT I won't tell you what the right answer is…Don't want to ruin your fantasies.)