Severus Snape & The Fawn (Snape Love Story)

Chapter I

She looked at her reflection in the mirror. She was pleasantly satisfied with the lacking resemblance to her father. Her features were by far softer than his. Instead of his sharp jaw line, hers was rather round and his straight pointed nose was nothing like hers which turned up slightly at the end. However, there was one thing that set her greatly apart from her father, her eyes. Instead of the crystal blue, a pair of green irises reflected from the mirror. Eyes she had gotten from the mother she had never known.

Since her birth she had never seen as far as her bedroom window, because she had been moved around frequently. I suppose you could say she had seen as far as many bedroom windows. Even when she did move from place to place her father took discretion of utmost importance in her transportation. She would endure her journeys from an enchanted trunk, the inside the size of a small hotel room.

She lived a lonely existence in her bedroom, with seldom visitors for most of her young life, only a few of her father's followers even aware of her existence. As far as she knew, she was hidden from the world and the world was hidden from her.

Despite being a witch herself her father absolutely forbid her to practice magic. She had never been taught nor given a wand for reasons her father would refuse to explain to her. However for being in constant isolation the girl kept a rather cheery disposition, she loved to sing and make music. She spent most of her time making up tunes and writing them into songs, a pass time she kept utterly out of her fathers knowledge knowing he would not think fondly of it.

As she got older she began to explore things her father could have cursed her for, but her curiosity began to shake her from her tight constrictions she had once cooperatively accepted. She realized she could move smaller things without touching them. She could raise objects around her room as if she was defying gravity around her. The more she practiced the better she got.

A day after her seventeenth birthday, feeling particularly restless on this particular day. She craved to be outside, feeling the warm dry grass under her feet and her skin vulnerable to the hot early August sun. Like many times before, her emotions took control and set her wild, raw magic free.  The windows flew ajar, leaking with the warm summer breeze she had desired to feel for so long.  She smiled as it began to lead hundreds of floating maple keys through her bedroom window. She twirled through them as they danced around her room in circles like an endless rain fall. Her white airy cotton skirt almost blown up to her waist with the gael and felt happy for one of the few times in her life. Suddenly the door crashed open, dread filled every vein leaving her skin hot, she stopped in place, fearing her father.

As she froze the keys around her lost control of the circular pattern they once held and instead dropped all around her chaotically, whizzing to the floor like hundreds of tiny helicopters. She looked into the eyes of her visiter. It was not her father, but instead an interesting looking man. His eyes were the first thing she noticed, they were inhumanly  black, but they didn't scare her. They interested her. His matching black messy hair fell at his chin and made his pale skin almost grey. She felt particularly drawn to him, unlike any other person her father had around. She looked for the mark on his arm, but it was covered with the long sleeve of his black robes that touched the floor. Her gaze was swiftly interrupted as he swung up his arm, she flinched, but soon relaxed to see he grabbed one of the maple keys from the air. He examined it as he gentle moved it through his fingers, then looked back at her with the same curious expression he posed to the maple key.

Her face became warm noticing his respective gaze toward her and started to become anxious. She began straightening out her dress, dusting some of the loose keys from it. 

"My lady." he addressed. She was immediately enchanted by his voice.

"It is of my utmost pleasure to meet you," he continued. She just stared blankly, that voice, It made her ears tingle. She continued to stand in silence gawking at the man. She slowly granted him with a nod, reassuring her acknowledgement.

"May I?" he asked, still standing in the door way, she nodded and gestured him inside her bedroom. He quietly closed the door as she scrambled over to sit at the head of her bed while he stayed at the end of it.

"I'm Severus," he told her.

"Hello Severus," she said.

 He was taken aback by the sound of her voice. It wasn't what he had imagined it to sound like. He had imagined in his mind that she would sound fragile or tired, but it wasn't like that at all, maybe even the opposite. It was clear, strong and even melodic. He had seen her before, from afar, when she was quite young, he would never have recognized her. Her body was far more curvaceous then he would have thought. She had the figure of a Greek statue. He couldn't help but notice her ample bosom behind the top of her dress, it frustrated him that he even took such notice in it. Her skin was milky white, and her midnight hair was so harsh against her gorgeous completion, he recalled it to have been inherited from her father. What really caught him about her was those eyes. They made his heart skip. Seeing them again with such life behind them. His enchantment soon grew to guilt. Seeing her, knowing what he done to her, knowing what could happen, what she had already gone through, because of him.

"Why are you here Severus?" she asked curiously in a dreamy tone.

"To meet you my lady,"

"Well it seems as though you have managed to do just that. If you would like to stay and chat you can do so on one condition." He smirked.

"So would you Severus? Would you like to enjoy my pleasantries?" she teased. 

"What is your desire my lady?" he asked played along, with a stir in his stomach about what she might want from him.

"Sit," she responded, gesturing to the end of her bed. He nodded and took a seat. She moved closer to him, it made him nervous, he watched her crawl from the top where her pillows were towards him. His heart began to quicken but soon relaxed and she stopped about a foot away from him. Being so close to her was very surreal to him. He analyzed every feature and every expression and hung on her every word, he had never felt his emotion slip from his control like they did around her. She leaned in closer and whispered, her words tickled his ear.

"Is he out there?" he could hear the fear in voice. 

"No, he is not here, he won't be for about a fortnight," he reassured her. She leaned back away from him and though for a moment.

"Is that really why you are here Severus, to watch me while he's gone?" she lightly questioned.

"Silly girl, you think I would ever be put down as far as such to be your babysitter?" he jeered back at her, sightly regretting his harsh tone. To his surprise she just giggled. God did she have her mother's laugh. But as she continued he noticed there was something quite different about hers, again it held this dreamy, whimsical quality, as if she had lived her life in the clouds. After all she had been through, he couldn't understand how.

"What do you do Severus?" she asked still slightly giggling.

"I'm a professor," he stated.

"Of what?"

"I'm a professor of Potions, at Hogwarts."

"What is Hogwarts?" she asked and his heart dropped. If her father knew he had mentioned Hogwarts to her he would either be dead or at the end of a torturous Cruciatus Curse for sure. However Dumbledore had a plan  but unfortunately her father also had a plan for her. There was a prophecy made, the morning before the Potters' were murdered.

"Another is to be born to the mother that defied the Dark Lord thrice. The child will hold power untold to the Dark Lord. A power his generation has not seen. A heart to hold the fate of the new world. A mind the Dark Lord shall fear."

This was the prophecy that stirred Voldemort to no end. He knew he had to destroy the Potter's. However, he was attracted to this power this other promised child was to bestow. His hunger for it drove him mad. His envy made him desperate, and his lack of control made him restless. He needed the Potter's dead.