Snape's lady

Chapter Two: Secod thoughts

'Is it the demons from without that we truly fear,
or those within?'

Unknown


Snape was pumping vigorously on the bed trying to be done and gone already. Soft whimpers started to rise from the bed in time to his movements. His hands sprang to its neck before he realized what was happening, trying to silence that horrible sound. Didn't he tell it to keep quiet? It was his only request after all, but it was too late now.

As he felt his release approaching, he suddenly saw her standing by the window; silent tears shining in her eyes, those delicate hands clenched into angry fists. He couldn't take his eyes off of her, trying to find anything to say, to make thingght ght again. She looked at him and her mouth opened for a second before she turned and glided out leaving him there alone.

He tried to get up and shout "Wait, I can explain, I didn't mean…" but his body betrayed him at that moment and he felt his juices spilling on the bed as he tried to fight free of the blasted blankets.

Getting up he tried to remember where he was. He was in his rooms of course just dreaming these stupid dreams. She would never notice him or care what he did after all. He didn't even know her name, for Nero's s He He just called her Lady-Gray in his private thoughts.

Getting back to bed to catch some sleep he had horrible dreams about sinking into a Flabberworm slime pool with the worms sliming into his clothes. The worst part of the dream was hearing somebody laughing at him jeering as he sank deeper and deeper into the slime-pit.

As he got up groggily from bed with the buzzing of the alarm to take a long, long shower he tried to think why the low, mocking voice sounded so familiar. He was probably just remembering his days as a student with Sirius and Potter dogging his heals.

Feeling much refreshed he made his way to the great hall for breakfast thinking things couldn't turn up worse than yesterday's fiasco. He hated Monday. Why on earth would anyone even consider making potions at eight in the morning? He was positive Minerva fixed it just to spite him as she chirpily denied while the headmaster laughed behind his beard. Well he would show them. Those Ravenclaw and Hufflepuf first-years would pay for this.

As he swept out of the hall his eyes lingered on the Ravenclaw table. How could they be sorted into such a house and yet be so much less? They were just ordinary ugly twerps who wanted to become the pigs that they were, gorging themselves on the foods and planning no doubt their next shameless shag-fest in the hallways. Just like all the rest of their mates. Even their head of house was more of a Hufflepuf than a Ravenclaw.

Ravenclaw should stand for something more. It should embody a purity of the mind, freed from bodily constraints and base ambitions and emotions.

Glancing upwards at the ceiling Snape tried to discern any movements in the gray morning skies. It was useless. He might as well get on with his life.

Going down the dungeon steps Snape was wrenched out of his reverie by the appearance of the bloody baron who passed rudely through him, his nonexistent lips thinned even more than his usual, to a destination unknown. Oddly enough Snape was suddenly reminded of his earlier dream of sinking into the Flabberworm pool last night. Shaking his head at this incongruous combination, Snape swept into the classroom slamming the door behind him as silence like a graveyard's descended on the cold and dreary classroom. Just the way he wanted it to be.