demeter918 | ficlet - a bit of a drabble on Snape (Reply)

~*~*~*~*~*~

He had hoped that Dumbledore – so wise and brave, but so fallible – would see more of his children than an ancient legacy and the long line of Dark Wizards. He had hoped that Dumbledore wouldn’t gave forgotten that promise, so long ago, that he had sworn to uphold when Snape sought sanctuary under the darkest moon. He had hoped until hoping seemed to meld together in one fusing of flesh and blood and he couldn’t see the end anymore.

Snape had hoped that Dumbledore would give the Slytherins the chance to choose. A choice to choose. A way to choose. He had hoped life would be different for them, that there would be no dark roads, no midnight meetings, no narrowed eyes, no quiet weeping that seared hatred within him as he pounded Occlumency into Harry Potter.

He had hoped that he wouldn’t see Draco grow more and more like his father with each passing day. He had hoped that Pansy wouldn’t start popping pills that made her smile like a ridiculous and ugly doll. He had hoped Blaise would grow a spine and finally choose whether he was a girl or boy. He had hoped that Greg and Vincent would find something in their minds to follow someone other than Draco. He had hoped that Millicent would be able to ignore the whispers about her physical appearance.

When morning dawned, he had hoped that his Slytherin students had finally understood that one house against three couldn’t win. He had hoped that their foolish support for Umbridge would fail. He had hoped they would see the folly of blindly following a person in power, when that person was the very reason why they were hexed, shoved into closets, and left for the dead. He had hoped they would see a parallel.

As night rustled, he had hoped five years were enough for them – or some – to understand that there wasn’t only one path to follow. He had hoped they knew that everyone made their own future. He had hoped that someone, anyone, would understand Slytherin thoughts and ambitions and accept the futility of offering warm hands when gold and power worked best.

He had hoped that Potter would finally see his own face. He had hoped Granger would finally leave her books. He had hoped Weasley could see that sometimes betrayal was sometimes the only way to serve. He had hoped Longbottom would open both his eyes. He had hoped there was still enough time for Slytherin and Gryffindor to call the rivalry a draw.

And when there was nothing left to hope, when everything was swallowed by what seemed like an infinite shadow, when dried spiders raked their fangs over his mind – he had hoped that golden hazel eyes would reappear.

Oh, yes. Severus Snape hoped.

~*~*~*~*~*~

I hate my title. I loathe it. I abhor it. I wanted to use Hope, but it sounded equally terrible. I'm bad at titling my fics. -_-

This is basically the first constructive piece I've written in a couple months. And it's not even that long or great - but it's a start for me to get back in my groove. The inclination to write is still somewhat dead, but with finals next week and the prospect of a few days in Florida, I felt the juices run a little. And of course, the first person I write about is Snape.

Darn the Akitofic. It's not coming out at all.

And of course; I would slip in *koff* into the fic.