Snape's New Flower

Meeting

It took a few days for the castle to be back to normal, with more and more people leaving for their real homes. Fiona, Amy and I all preferred Hogwarts and each others company. This was our home, and we were each others families. That's what made our bond so strong, and what drew us to each other to begin with was that we all came from families who didn't care much for us. The two of them had parents who were neglectful, and couldn't care less if they went home or not. Mine, however, wanted me to stay away. They didn't hate me, per say, but my existence caused a rift between them. My witch mother was too passive for her own good, and my muggle father was nice enough - until he turned bitter and jealous. He hated that I was born with magic, and he hated it more when my mother and I would talk about the wizarding world. He felt left out, and over the years, began to resent me for it. I learned to stay away, to keep this side of me private. It would be better for them if I stayed at Hogwarts all summer, and I had no reason to protest. It would be good for me too.

And that's where the three of us related. Our families didn't appreciate us like we could each other. Even with our differences, we became family, and Hogwarts our home, and I was glad we could spend another year here together. But this thing with Snape, I couldn't tell them, not yet. I knew they were trustworthy, even with Fi's love for gossip, but it felt personal in a way that made me want to keep it private.

So early the next morning, before my friends woke, I set off to find Snape.

I checked his classroom first, which I knew would be a bust. Next, I knocked on his office door, and then at the potion supply closet. Nothing. If he was still in the school, he wasn't in his usual spots. They were too obvious, and they did say he was in hiding.

I tried the Great Hall and library, but still, nothing. I wondered where else I could go that would still be permitted, and found myself in the astronomy tower. There's no way he would be there, but maybe it would give me a good view of the castle grounds to find him, or at the very least, clear my head.

I climbed the circular staircase, muttering to myself how this was a lost cause and he would be far from school grounds by now, when I heard a creak of the wood above me. Wind, probably. But as I reached the top, I was stopped in my path. There he was. Leaning over the balcony, hair and cape flowing behind him in the cool morning breeze.

He turned around, startled, and saw me standing there like an idiot, gawking at him.

I waited for him to make the first move, but the awkwardness was overwhelming, and I caved, "good morning, Professor." Of all the things I wanted to tell him, good morning wasn't one. But here we are.

With a grunt, he turned back around, and I relaxed a little. Not wanting to forfeit quite yet, I stood leaning on the balcony beside him, "that was you, the other night."

He glared sideways at me, but this time he answered, "it was."

Wanting to avoid the subject of crying, I asked, "you said you almost died. Like me."

This time he didn't just glare, but snarl too. "I did."

"How?"

He didn't say anything for the longest time, and I began to think he never would. But his posture relaxed, his head tilted down, and he answered, "Voldemort."

I nodded, not wanting to press him further. Voldemort himself tried to kill Snape? And failed? Harry Potter is the only one known to survive the killing curse, I couldn't believe Snape escaped him with his life. I didn't know what injuries he was in the infirmary for, but I was surprised he was released in only one night.

I wanted him to know I understood, even if his situation was far more complicated, "It was a death eater for me. If someone else hadn't stepped in, they would have killed me, I'm sure of it." Snape said nothing, but looked down at me, so I continued, "I thought I could help, but I wasn't strong enough. I should be dead."

"Don't cry again," he responded, and while the words were cold, I caught a soft undertone in his voice.

"No, not this time." I let out a faint laugh and rubbed my eyes, because I honestly did want to cry. I thought this was a good time to say, "but thank you, for staying with me that night."

I looked up at him, and our eyes met. Of course I did, his said, I know how you feel.

He broke the connection first, and with a flick of his cape, I found myself alone on the tower.