I decided to try my hand at writing a fic. This is my first, so we'll se how it goes. I don't have too much time, so it may come out slowly, but I'll try to get it done as quick as possible.
This fic, as it is in my head now, will probably be PG-13.
It tells the story of a young Severus Snape, his childhood and his growth into adulthood. I've always been facinated at the origin of wickedness and evil, which almost always has it's roots buried in a troubled past.
Although the story will be in first person from Snape's perspective, the first part of the story will be a prologue in third person, just because I like that literary style. The prologue takes place around the middle of my fic, and the reason for this will be explained when I get to that point.
Please comment! I'm a big girl, I can take criticism.
So, without furthur ado...
Like a Bat in the Moonlight
The closet smelled musty, a strange combination of ancient brooms and mothballs. He sat awkwardly in the small space, his knees pulled close to him, breathing shallowly as he skimmed the pages in the large book he held on his lap. The door was cracked open, a steady stream of light passing through the dark space and onto the colorful pages filled with powerful potions. Muted laughter could be heard in the hall; discussions, arguments, and whispers flowed in. The boy sighed slowly. He felt like that world on the other side of the door was so distant, so exclusive, that he had no way to reach it. He was, in part, correct. He used to bother, to try to make friends, but despite his efforts, everyone seemed to steer clear of him. He turned to his studies, they made him forget his problems, both those at school and those at home.
Suddenly the door swung open. A boy no older than himself stood there proudly, with his unruly black hair and hazel eyes hidden behind glasses. His face twisted in a demented smile, twisted and cruel.
"Snivellus!" He belted, "Caught in the broom closet again?"
People all around the grand Hogwarts hall turned to look, some snickered, but most turned their head, ignoring what was occurring. Why should they care? Severus Snape was no one. He mattered to no one.
In Severus' eyes, where the proud boy expected to see the usual tinge of fear, he found only determination, or maybe it was just indifference. Severus pushed past him, leaving the young James Potter standing, awkwardly, listening to the diminishing sound of his echoing footsteps.