Truly Angelic


What if? This one tackles an angel theory that literally just came out of my head.

What if Snape was an angel kidnapped at a young age and raised mortal. But he's not. Mortal that is!


Every thousand years an angel is born. These angels are immortal, and more powerful than any human mind could comprehend. Each is the guardian of one of the four elements with total control of one of the four seasons.

Earth; total control of the season of spring, the healer, Hufflepuff house

Fire: total control of the season of summer, the strategist, Slytherin house

Air: total control of the season of autumn, the thinker, Ravenclaw house

Water; total control of the season of winter, the warrior, Gryffindor house

The following text is a truthful report of what happens when an immortal is raised mortal, ignorant of his powers, and how he comes perilously close to being the key to Voldemort's take-over bid

Chapter 1

"Have you got it? The angel? Where is the angel?"

Every word was separated by the terrible blows the attacker was administering to the woman's bruised and broken body.

She could not hear him and the man knew this, and that the body in front of him was beyond hearing, of even sensing the flurry of blows still being administered to her torso.

The woman was still alive, though how the man would never know.

The only evidence of the fact that she was still here, still alive was the shallow rising and falling of her chest.

The man cackled a truly evil sound as a young boy, perhaps three or four appeared in the doorway.

Then he stopped abruptly as his fists hit a shield of pure light surrounding the woman.

He glanced again at the child.

Cloaked in roughly woven brown clothing that effectively swamped the immature body he could not see the boy's face.

Then, with a simple, yet elegant toss, the child's hood was thrown back.

His face was like that of a dark angel on some beautifully illustrated manuscript.

A halo of sinuous, curly blue-black hair surrounded a face that, though pale was perfect in every way.

Finely chiselled features, adorned a face that was perfectly symmetrical, and his eyes, oh gods his eyes!

They were as dark as the deepest shadow, yet he was captivated by the agelessness and wisdom that the young child wore in them openly, trustingly.

This was the angel, he had to be.

Chuckling softly, the man whipped out his wand and whispered a spell.

A/N What is the spell the attacker whispered, and what effect does it have on our young angel?

Next chapter find out.