The Slytherdor Series (Snape) - Book One (complete)

Chapter Six

Proffesor Snape had gone to see Hagrid at his hut, he hadn't explained what it was about but insisted he meet with him and the headmaster after his duties the next day. He didn't dislike Hagrid, he was just irritated by his prensence. Some would say that's the same thing.. but to a bitter and unfriendly wizard like Severus Snape, it is not the case.

See, there are three types of people the black eyed potions master cannot abide by, stupid people, arrogant people and bullies. Which is ironic concidering the fact he has been referred to as both arrogant and a bully... there's always a reason a man becomes the things he detests the most.
Hagrid however, bless his hairy back.. was the former on the list, and in Professor Snape's opinion, a useless oaf.

He spent most of the evening wide awake, thoughts of Ellie and her circumstances rattling against his frail wall of empathy. What perplexed him the most though, was her being sorted into a dual house. 'Slytherdor... rarity... danger.... unexplained circumstances..' his mind went to and fro' for hours. 'Does she have special magic like the French boy?' He asked himself, trawling through books in a desperate attempt to know more. As a man with a thirst for knowledge the dead ends frustrated him emmensly.

'What reason did the Dark Lord kill her parents? Was it something Davina did? Or was it who Ellie is...' his mind raced, and he took his head in his hands. 'None of this is of my concern.. I couldn't care less for the insolent brat!' He argued with his inner self.

He blew out the candles on his desk and went into his private chambers, a stiff drink was needed and the only decision he had to make was firewhiskey or Rosé.
Deciding apon the wine he poured the tranclucent dark pink liquid into a wine glass and sat in his favourite chair.

He thought of Lily, he thought of Harry, the Dark Lord and Ellie Fant.
An hour had passed and he was ready to turn in for the evening, he showered and put on a black skin tight t shirt and some lounge pants, the ones with a button fly.
He stopped at the mirror and stared at himself in the mirror. He saw the aged sallow skin that clung to his face, the bitterness in his eyes and worst of all.. he saw a shell of a man. A waste of space.

He hated what she saw, 'no wonder Lily chose Potter, who would choose this?'
He scolded himself before climbing in his black silk sheets and falling asleep.

And he dreamt... he dreamt of Dumbledores words to him just hours before, he remembered his gaze latching onto the gaze of probably the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, he flashed back to his childhood.. the torment.
He dreamt....