• Chapter two: Her first Mistake...Living.
    Dawn. What a glorious sight to see every day when you live at Hogwarts. Stalking down the dungeons’ stairs Snape found was a terrible chore. He had been in similar occasions in his youth when he himself was learning Witchcraft and Wizardry from this school. Creeping quietly into his office, he changed into a fresh (you guessed it) black robe. He still didn’t feel very clean after what had happened last night. Brushing his teeth thoroughly in his room next door made his mouth feel raw and producing a cleansing potion out of a cupboard, he sprinkled a dabble all over himself. A moment of shock struck him like lightning, his wand! Searching his old robes, he prayed to god the fairy hadn’t stolen it. Nestled in a deep pocket he found a long stick of wood he knew as his wand. With a sigh of relief he shoved it into his fresh robe’s pocket. Looking at a clock on the dingy black walls in his quarters, the faded golden stars told him it was near breakfast time for both students and teachers. Gathering some sanity, he drew himself up to his full height and strode up the dungeons’ stairs to the Great Hall.
    This Grand room was just how he left it. It was warm, comfortable and filled with food. Being in this room gave him a sudden mood swing. He was his normal cool self who had no attachment to any of these children. At the Hufflepuff table he lowered himself to a reasonable height above a small, first year girl. With a clear, calm voice, he “reminded” her that her essay was due first lesson. Seeing the girl’s face go pale, he showed a sneer of victory. He still had the knack after two years. He was no one year wonder. He thought that his sneer could be like a signature, an iconic image to scare first years, and fifth years for that matter (studying for O.W.L’s.)
    Finally reaching the teachers table at the front of the Great Hall, he sat down with a strange flourish. Flitwick as usual gave a cheerful smile in his general direction which he never seemed to return, and a fork was waved to him by Professor Trelawney. Every teacher he ignored but one, Professor Dumbledore. A nagging feeling was pressing on Snape’s mind that he knew Dumbledore would be able to sense somehow. He had a funny feeling the headmaster would ask him at some point that day where he went last night. Coming back to earth, Snape jabbed a fork into some bacon as well as scanning for any other victims to torment for the rest of the day.
    After breakfast, he again descended the dungeon stairs towards his classroom. N.E.W.T students were already inside preparing potions for second lesson. With a glance, they all scuttled away towards the door. One blonde girl lagged behind. After giving her another glare, she merely smiled and winked at him as she slid outside. Shaking his head from her bizarre exit, he sat down at his desk to sort out mock exam papers. A knock at the door interrupted his work. Bracing himself for the worst, he told the unknown person behind the door to enter. The worst had come, in came the midnight blue robed headmaster. With a cheerful smile he strode towards the black robed wizard now standing by his desk.
    “Severus. How are you my fellow?”
    “It depends what you mean by “How are you?” Albus?”
    “You know perfectly well what I mean. Out of interest Severus, Where were you last night?
    Severus was tempted to reply where Albus went last night, but bit back his remark. He was wondering when Albus would get to this point in the conversation. Today he seemed straighter to the point. Talk about no beating about the bush. He could feel Dumbledore’s eyes X-raying him, like he normally does. Snape couldn’t look directly into them today, he felt like a little boy who had done something wrong and didn’t want to admit it. But he had done something wrong. Dumbledore knew he had done something wrong, but he wanted to hear it out loud, just to annoy him a little. That was what Snape thought anyway. Unable to contain the shame in his own chest, he poured out his ghastly mishap from within.
    What once was a smile on Dumbledore’s face, soon turned to a grimace of disgust. Up it came, a raging tiger leaping out of Dumbledore, growling with fury. A lecture was being thrown at Snape like gush of water being thrown at an ant. Snape was expecting it, but not with this amount of force. Once finished, Dumbledore’s red face cooled down and turned to its usual wrinkled, good natured self again.
    “No more mistakes Severus. No more,” croaked Albus as he left the dungeon.

    Roughly nine months passed. And Severus Snape had completely forgotten about the unfortunate event in September. Around near the end of the school year, summer rain was beating at the night sky. Severus was patrolling that night on the ground floor. His lit wand was raised at eye level, he searched the Entrance Hall. Knowing no one would be there, he slumped against a wall and somewhat relaxed. In the dark, with no ghost or human around he could easily reflect on what had happened that day. Nothing hugely impressive had happened that day. Apart from that second year boy’s potion that went horribly wrong and covered everyone apart from Snape in the usual exploding, violet gunk. A usual, stupid mistake that shouldn’t happen and therefore the pupil must be punished if the mistake does occur.
    Suddenly a bang came at the Grand Oak doors that Snape was sure would wake up half the school. With his wand now raised above his head, he hurried towards the door ready to strike the unknown. He had received this recklessness from being a Death-Eater all these years. Opening the door slowly he cocked his head on one side to see what was beyond. Nothing could prepare him for the sight he was about to see. There as if she had not seen another creature’s face in years stood the fairy of nine months ago. He was rooted to the marble stairs unable to shut the door on what he thought was a ghost. She was no ghost however, moving closer she caressed his face with a wry smile on her face . Looking down, he noticed she was carrying a small bundle that was... breathing. She followed his gaze and gave a sort of sigh of exhaustion she thrust the bundle into his arms.
    “Here,” she uttered. “This is yours I believe.”
    She left without another word into the summer storm. Staring, flabbergasted at the bundle in his hands he decided he had to find out what was underneath the ragged cloth. After pulling away layer after layer of the wet cloth, Snape was beginning to imagine this as a pass the parcel game. Eventually the last layer of cloth was pulled away gently to reveal a raven baby girl, gurgling in her sleep.