Severus Snape: OneShots

Little Black Box

He reached out and picked up his glass of firewhiskey. He swooshed the golden liquid around watching it catch the light from the glow of the fire. He brought it to his lips, and downed it in one gulp. He grimaced at the burn in his throat and returned his focus to the mountain of parchments he had yet to finish grading. He rubbed his eyes with his the fingers of his left hand as he reached out and grabbed the first assignment on the stack. He blinked as he refocused his vision. He hated grading assignments, every one of his students were dunderheads. His vision returned to normal as he noticed the name on the parchment. He smirked; they were all dunderheads except for her. She always did more than what he requested, if it were any other student he would have taken points, or lowered the score by a full grade. He sighed, he knew he would have to say something to her tomorrow, he knew she would look up at him with her large cinnamon eyes, he knew that look well. The look of hurt. He did not want to hurt her, but his hand was forced. He had to remain in character, or none of them would respect him.

They would all be leaving in less than one months' time. He scanned her parchment, as he thought back over the years. When had they grown up? When had she grown up? She was far from the bushy haired, buck toothed little girl that was eagerly waving her hand in class the first day. He smiled at the memory. He thought back to earlier that day, in the library. He had gone into return some books he had been using for research, and he spotted her. She was lounging in a large chair. She had discarded her school robes, and had her legs thrown over the arm of the chair. Her hair pulled up, and a quill was stuck in the heap of curls. He watched as she turned the page, clearly engrossed in her reading. Some things never change, except she was showing more leg than she should have been. He pulled himself out of the memory and sat up. When on earth did this start? He poured himself another glass of firewhiskey, and gave her paper a perfect score and quickly moved onto the next student's assignment.

He was standing at the front of the class as the students poured in. He had forced himself not think about what had happened the night before, he attributed it to too much firewhiskey and left it at that. He had his back to the students, as he was neatly writing himself a reminder for supplies he needed. He turned around quickly, he still demanded attention. What he was unprepared for was coming face to face with those large cinnamon eyes. He held her stare; she was standing there smiling at him. She didn't speak, but simply held up a small black box. He reluctantly took the box from her, and she turned and made her way back to her seat. None of the other students seemed to notice or care that she had just handed him something.

Class went by in a blur, and before he knew it they were rushing out of his classroom. She was the last to leave, her friends lingered by the door waiting for her. She was always the last to leave. Finally, he was alone and his attention was drawn to the small black box on his desk. He rolled his eyes and picked it up. He attempted to open it, but it wouldn't give. He tried numerous spells and still it would not open. He sat down and looked at the box. A message like smoke began to write itself on the side. He squinted as the letters formed words. 'I open when the truth is spoken'. He furrowed his brow, and decided to contemplate the message before attempting again.

He spoke to that box for hours every night. Each night was as much a failure as the night before. He was so engrossed with trying to open the box he hadn't realized that graduation day had come. He woke up late, and missed the ceremony. The seventh years were lingering in the great hall talking before heading off to meet the train. He dressed as quickly as he could, he had to find her, and he had to ask her what truth needed to be spoken in order to open the box. He billowed out of the dungeon and made his way to the great hall. He pushed through the large wooden doors, to find the great hall was deserted. He turned and made his way outside, but the recent graduates were already gone. He may never know what the box held. He made his way back to his rooms, slamming the door behind him.