Severus Snape: OneShots

Midsummer's Eve

The boy appeared in the tall grass; one moment, nothing, then a shimmering mist, then he was there as if he had always been there, not with a pop or a bang, but soft as a whisper. But then he'd been Apparating since he was seven. He wore long robes, and an old trunk floated behind him.
He could smell the sea over the ridge, the sky was clear and soft blue, a cool wind hit his face - it was the right time, Midsummer's Eve, and the stars would be bright. A night of power. Am I frightened? I should be frightened, this time tomorrow, it will be over, three years of work and planning done. But no, he felt only exhilaration, even a lightness in him. I suppose I have Potter to thank for that, he thought, with a wince of pain. No, don't think of him, he's behind you, he's in the past now. I have only this to think of, concentrate on this, for this is all that matters now.

Would they realize he was missing? Term was as good as over, but the students weren't supposed to leave for several days yet. Some were still taking exams. But he'd been Apparating home quietly for years now, and no one had said anything, although he hadn't brought his things with him before.

He turned and faced the Tower, where it stood on a high point overlooking the sea. No one would be able to see it but him, no one would be able to find it unless he told them where it was and allowed them to be here. There were guarding spells on it that were over a thousand years old, as old as the building itself, and he was the last one left who could control them. His parents had died when he was quite young, but there was no one to know or care, at least, no one that he would let in here. Tobbs, the house elf, had taken care of him when he was little. After Tobbs had died, he'd managed on his own. The Tower provided nearly everything he needed, and there was money, for those things it did not.

He took a deep breath and walked towards it, his trunk following behind like an obedient dog. The Tower was ancient, it looked as if it would crumble into dust at a touch, but in its time it had withstood forces that would flatten far sturdier looking buildings. Our legacy, ugly and evil, just like the family. As he drew closer, a blast of cold air hit him - the Tower was always cold. Even in the hottest days of summer, there was a chill here.

Even after three years, he still instinctively expected the main doors to open, and to hear Tobbs's husky voice calling his name. But, of course, they were closed. Tobbs is dead, he told himself, he won't be calling for you anymore.

He spoke a word, the doors opened before him, and he entered. The inside was much larger than the building outside, and he wondered if any new passages or rooms had added themselves or vanished while he was gone. The Tower would build itself. It had been great fun when he was little, exploring. He'd never felt in danger, with Tobbs and Sally there, even after his parents died. Tobbs told him he was the master of the Tower, and it would never harm him, as long as he didn't go up into the high Tower Rooms. Even then, it wouldn't be the Tower that would harm him there, though Tobbs would never tell him any more than that. The old house elf had kept the family secrets.

He nearly gasped - up on the landing, the door leading up into the high Tower was open. Then he relaxed. Of course it's open. It's been clean for over a month now. He'd left it open as a gesture of triumph when he'd last returned to school. But it still made him uneasy.

I need to take the trunk up to my room, he thought, and then thought, Why? It's not like it's going to matter after tonight, don't be stupid. And then, feeling stupid, he directed it up the stairs anyway, to the little room he'd had since childhood and set it down. I won't unpack, though, he decided. No point. He threw off the hated school robes - good-bye, stinking Slytherin - and put on plain old black ones that hung loose on his thin frame. No glance in the mirror, he wasn't a pretty boy, and he had the family hair, and that was bad enough. Good-bye to all that, too.