❝ you may say I'm a dreamer,
but I'm not the only one ❞
in which the girl who hated many things found someone to fight for.
TEMPEST THATCHER ; HARRY POTTER UNIVERSE
MARAUDERS ERA - GOLDEN ERA
COVER BY @BonitaRogue
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chapter eight; snape and potter
TEMPEST HADN'T RETURNED TO THE FORBIDDEN FOREST FOR A FEW DAYS. She had instead been cooped up in her chambers, dissecting information that was sprawled across the floors. Her mind kept replaying the sight of the black dog hunched in the trees, and she hated how she was set on edge by the mere thought of going back.
The weekend had rolled around relatively quickly, and while the students made their way down to Hogsmeade, she was sitting quietly in the great hall with the Daily Prophet on the table before her. She had barely slept a wink the previous night, and was utterly exhausted. There weren't many wizarding alternatives to coffee, which she had grown accustomed to in her life in Surrey. There were drinks of a similar sort, though they tasted awful compared to the muggle cappuccinos and lattes. Instead, she sipped on a hot chocolate, her insides warming in delight.
Despite what many pure-bloods claimed, life with muggles was quite enjoyable. She had lived among them almost all her life, and the sheer obliviousness of their kind was comforting, especially since they didn't know of her past relations, or what she was capable of. Some were a little stupid for their own good, but that was the case with several wizards, who refused to admit they were similar in that way.
She hated that her kind refused to learn from non-magic folk, as there were numerous inventions that could make life less complicated for all, only the pride of purists got in the way.
Tempest's eyes were droopy as she chewed on a rasher of bacon, near oblivious to how alone she was in the large hall. Not one person was around, and she didn't know whether or not she liked it. She preferred the company of others, only she didn't know how different it would be under the circumstances in which she had returned.
"The fact that you think you can sneak around like your good for nothing father-" a distant, nasally voice caught Tempest's attention as it broke the silence she sat in. Turning her head, she caught a glimpse of a man in dark black robes dragging someone by the arm through the halls. Her posture tightened a little, immediately aware of who it was, as even though he was now in his thirties, he was still the same man she had gone to school with.
Tempest didn't waste any time in throwing her legs over the chair and standing up, strolling towards the large archway at the end of the Great Hall. Her dark brown slippers didn't make a sound against the stone floors, so when she made it outside, it took the culprits by surprise.
"Professor Snape," she called as she stepped out into the halls, just in time to catch Severus before he took the student somewhere else, probably for a detention. Her arms crossed, she watched as the greasy-haired man froze and turned to her, looking down his large nose in a form of disgust. She hadn't changed much since he had last seen her, even the dark bags under her eyes was nothing new. Still, despite her exhaustion she managed a slight simper as she stared up at him. "It's a Saturday morning, can't your torture wait till Monday?"
