The Secret Diary of Severus Snape

Title: The Secret Diary of Severus Snape (Entries 76-88)
Author: Mimine (mimine101@hotmail.com)
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slightly chan, bit of teacher-student.
Pairing: Various Snape pairings
Notes: My enormous gratitude to Roo and Fara for their beta reading. All mistakes are mine.


Date format is dd/mm/yyyy

19/3/1976
I’ve been very lonely. Evan is with Dolohov all the time. What on Earth does Evan see in him? His enormous chin aside he has a horrible laugh. Loud and obnoxious. It usually comes after he has said a joke. He’s the only one who laughs at his jokes but he doesn’t seem to have noticed. The jokes are always about mudbloods. His latest? “What’s the difference between a mudblood and a bucket of shite? The BUCKET!”

What a wanker! Not that I care about mudbloods but these jokes are infantile.

Lestrange has been miserable about his girl so Avery has been spending most of his free time with him. They’re best friends after all. It’s not that they have told me they would mind if I spent some time with them but Lestrange makes a face and changes the subject whenever I show up. I can tell when I’m notted.ted. Still, it’s not fair to blame me because Lucius is flirting with Bellatrix Black.


21/3/1976
I just got back from Jigger’s office. I’m exhausted. Jigger left me completely alone. I resisted the temptation of his defenceless storage cupboard. I had no qualms about robbing him blind before when I was risking everything and now that I could help myself to anything I want, I can’t.


22/3/1976
“After you, Siri darling.”

His friends laughed when I said that, thought me absurd and simply passed me by on the hall, Potter not forgetting to give me a shove for good measure. Black tried to laugh it off as well but he had blanched.

I knew “Siri, darling” before I met my tormentor Sirius Black in Hogwarts. I was seven years old. I do not know how my father managed to get himself invited to the Black house. We waited for a while before someone opened the door. It was the first time I saw a house elf but I contained my curiosity, father had instructed me not to speak unless spoken to and to touch nothing. We went inside and I was so awed by my surroundings that I couldn’t speak even if I wanted to. My hands itched to touch everything I could reach, though (which wasn’t much at seven, I was just about the same height as that house elf).

And then Mr and Mrs Black came to us, Mr Black taking my father away for a drink (father let go of my hand much more easily than I let go of his). I was terrified. Mrs Black greeted me, asked me a few questions about the trip, my age… that sort of thing, and then called to her son: “Siri, darling, do show Severus around.”

Siri hadn’t appeared pleased with the task but I was the only other child there. Or at least I thought I was at first. There was a little boy who desperately tried to follow us around but as Siri said, “He’s only a baby and he’ll tell on me to mother again,” while the boy cried in indignation that he wouldn’t, he just wanted to play with us. Eventually Siri suggested Hide and Seek and got his younger brother to hide first. I had never played that game before but my guess was that there should be some seeking at some point but Siri was glad to be rid of “that little pest” and didn’t look for him.

I wonder what on Earth we found to talk about for hours… I was there for at least four hours, exploring the house with Siri, my new best friend. He did most of the talking but I didn’t mind. I felt that I had nothing interesting to say, anyway.

And when his mother found us and yelled about how her younger son had gone missing I backed up Siri’s lie about how his brother had simply taken off on his own.

I’m sure my father remembers well the remainder of that summer. How I begged him to take me to see my friend again. How I stole his owl a couple of times to contact Siri. But father was never invited again. The visit had gone well for the kiddies, however, the Blacks wanted nothing more to do with Father. He has that effect on people.

I met Siri again at school as we were getting off the train. I greeted him but he didn’t remember me. I pointed out the thestrals to him and he saw nothing and then he went and got himself sorted into Gryffindor so that was the end of that. I like how angry it makes him still when I call him “Siri.” I know who he was once, faithful son, interested in the Dark Arts, impressed with my knowledge of them (which I must say had been quite impressive at seven). He now claims to despise the Dark Arts and runs behind Potter.

Does he think he hides it? His attraction to Potter? They call me a poofter and comment on how itot tot that strange I take it up the arse, who’d want to face me anyway? Fine, I am a poofter but does Black think he is fooling anyone the way he’s running after Potter following his lead in everything? He’s not fooling me.

I hate them both so much! Why won’t they leave me alone? What have I done to them?


24/3/1976
I sucked off Lestrange in the showers yesterday. It just happened. I was washing my face, preparing for bed, and he was undressing to take a shower. Nowtrantrange’s prick is impressive at any state but hard it is really a sight. He noticed me watching. He stroked on it a little and asked me if I wanted it.

Of course I wanted it.

He still appeared quite shocked when I knelt in front of him. We got in the shower stall together, I didn’t get up, just crawled in on all
fours. It was funny, he pulled back from me all the way as though he were afraid.

He made a strangled sound when I took him in my mouth. His hands went to my hair, holding me down. I choked and held onto the base of his prick to make him go slow, he was getting even larger in my mouth. I quickly moved my tongue around his shaft, struggling to breathe a little. He whimpered and tried to push farther in. I’m sure that hitting the back of my throat felt good to him, but me vomiting would certainly kill the mood. He held onto my hair as I tried to pull back so I let my teeth graze him. Properly chastised, he let go.

I pulled back completely, using just my hand on him then took the tip in my mouth again and slowly relaxed my throat a bit until he was practically fucking my mouth. I had my hands on his hips, guiding his movements, making sure he wouldn’t get too deep.

It didn’t take long. I felt him begin shooting and I meant to swallow but I choked a little. That obviously scared him so he pushed my head back, letting his spunk fall on the tiled floor.

He was breathing heavily, leaning back against the wall. He seemed ready to collapse. He reached with trembling fingers and turned on the shower, obviously not noticing that I was still in my nightshirt. I cursed when the water hit me and he immediately apologised and tried to turn off the spray.

It was too late. The soaked cotton felt uncomfortable on my skin. I got up and moved away from the shower spray until my back was against the door. He reached for me, a very concentrated expression on his face as his hand fumbled on my groin. I wasn’t hard. I didn’t need what he was offering so reluctantly.

I opened shower door and turned to leave. He said something but I didn’t catch it. He came out right behind me, naked as he was.

Avery was brushing his teeth. He stared at us, blinking comically. Les mumbled something and went back inside his shower stall, red-faced. I just headed for my bed, dripping all the way. I removed my wet nightshirt and underclothes and slept in the nude.

I didn’t even get hard while I was sucking off Lestrange. I don’t think this “simply sex” thing is going to work. Evan is probably an exception because I care for him so much.


25/3/1976
Lestrange has been avoiding me. Rosier is still spending all of his time with Dolohov. He asked me for my speciubriubricant. I charged him standard rate. He wasn’t too happy about that.

Lucius is always in the company of the Black sisters these days. No one seems to be sure which one he’s nailing.


27/3/1976
Les kept poor Avery up all night last night talking about Bellatrix Black. At some point he started to cry. Avery was at a loss. He looked at me but I didn’t come to his aid. I didn’t want to embarrass Lestrange any further.

If Lucius is with Bellatrix I don’t think it will last very long. They are too similar.


28/3/1976
Apathy. Total apathy. Everything seems to be happening to everybody else, not me. Except for the special attention I’m getting from Potter and his cronies. That is a constant.

I walked in on Evan and Dolohov. It was… odd. Evan was on his face, his legs spread wide and Dolohov was on top of him, fucking him. Dolohov still had his socks on, the fucking peasant.

They hadn’t realised they had an audience. I left them and went to sit at the Common Room. I was vaguely aroused but forced myself not to think about it. Eventually the others came back from Hogsmeade. I should have told Evan I had decided not to go at the last minute but the thought that he would need the room to shag hadn’t sunk in yet, I suppose.


31/3/1976
The fuckers! The stupid fuckers. The cunts! I can’t believe this!

I’ll take things from the beginning. About a month ago the Minister of Magic resigned following the great Unnamed Quidditch Team scandal (everyone knows it was the Falmouth Falcons) which involved the members of the Ministry fixing games and Minister Brocklehurst himself placing bets under an assumed name. A very boring scandal which nevertheless led to his resignation.

What should this have to do with me? Normally, nothing. However, Thaddeus Devlin, the new Minister, has taken a very active interest in the school and from what Slinkhard told us today in class, Devlin is shocked that fifth-year students are allowed in seventh-year Defence Against the Dark Arts. Because, of course, we are too
young and impressionable to be learning Dark Arts spells.( As if we were learning anything I didn’t already know before coming to school anyway!) To make a long story short, I’m forced to go back to fifth year for the rest of the school year and will have to sit Defence and Potions O.W.L.s again! Sitting them and passing with an Outstanding back in third year is of course unacceptable. Now they tell me!

Slinkhard told Lupin and me before class and didn’t allow us in. We both complained and pleaded with him but it was useless. Eventually we left.(Slinkhard kicked us out to get his class going after telling me that giving me private tutoring out of the questions and that it was Dumbledore’s orders and I should take my complaints to him). Lupin said that we should go to Dumbledore.

I’ve never seen Lupin so angry, his hair was literally standing on end and his eyes were gleaming. It was just… I believe arousing is the word I’m looking for, I wanted him to push me against the wall and fuck me blind. It would look a bit silly, I suppose, he’s much shorter than me. And really, it doesn’t have a chance in hell of happening he probably prefers girls. And he’s a Gryffindor, not just any Gryffindor but one of them.

On the way to Dumbledore’s office, we decided what we were going to tell him.

“He has no right!”

“No bloody right!”

“Why didn’t he stand up to Devlin, he defeated Grindenwald and he can’t handle a stinking paper pusher?” (That was Lupin, full of Gryffindor indignation over a Gryffindor icon having failed to show enough courage.)

We had decided on what to say without being too disrespectful but before the first step that would lead us up to Dumbledore’s office we both got cold feet and turned around. We wandered in the garden the rest of our unexpected free hour. We had Herbology with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff next (since fifth year Herbology for Gryffindor and Slytherin is right at the same time as seventh year Defence,which of
course won’t be a problem anymore. Great! Yet another class to be taking with Gryffindor now!)

We went on and on about how the decision was so unfair and how we were better at those things than most seventh years and moaning about those bloody essays we’d written on Ethical Use of Restricted Spells, wondering whether Slinkhard would agree to take a look at them anyway. Then we went into a debate on ethics and whether the status of certain spells should be reconsidered.

He’s really too smart to be in Gryffindor with those imbeciles he calls friends. He is very quiet in class, sometimes it’s hard to tell. Potter and Black never miss a chance to show off their abilities and rely on Gryffindor bias to keep them on the top of the class. McGonagall looks like she’s about to climax when her pets exhibit their skills, always going a step further in their transfigurations. Lupin is good at it, better than them I suspect but doesn’t make a show of it.

We just kept on walking and talking until we reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest. We walked back quickly, we were running late for Herbology. The others were out on their way to Defence.

And then they spotted us. “Oi, Snivellus, bugger off!” Lupin looked away from me as though he had just realised who he’d been talking to for the past hour. He looked scared rather than anything else. He was late coming in the Greenhouse for Herbology. I stared at him but he avoided my eyes. The seat next to me was open but he squeezed between two fat Hufflepuff girls who welcomed him with shrill giggles.

I don’t care. He’s just like the rest of them. He’ll get a chance to be with his friends all the time now, he should be happy he won’t be allowed in seventh-year classes anymore.


2/4/1976
Jigger’s job was easier than Slinkhard’s. When he told me, I already knew I’d be forced to go back to fifth year and had begun to accept it. He said my position as assistant is not threatened. Dumbledore has decided that this sort of thing is under his authority and chose not to inform the Ministry. What the Ministry doesn’t know won’t hurt it.

Unlike Slinkhard, Jigger offered private tutoring. It was kind of him and I would have accepted if I thought there was anything he could teach me about Potions.


3/4/1976
I’m back with my year in all classes. Evan explained to me that he can’t just stop sitting with Wilkes and sit with me. It doesn’t matter. I don’t mind sitting alone.

I see very little of Lucius now. It doesn’t hurt that much when I look at him. Lestrange still goes pale whenever his eyes fall on Bellatrix Black.

The rumours are now saying that Lucius is nailing both Black sisters. I wouldn’t put it past him.

4/4/1976
My head hurts. I should go to the Infirmary, everything keeps swimming in and out of focus. Perhaps I should have handled things with a little more diplomacy.

Stefan Delacour came to me and asked for a potion “zat weel make someone love me again.” I told him he’d better forget about it, I don’t make that sort of thing and even if I did I wouldn’t sell it to him. His eyes were bloodshot and he stank of alcohol. He said: “How about a recreational potion, then?” apparently not even noticing that I’d said I’m not willing to sell anything to him.

I told him there was no way I was making any of those either and made to get away from him. We were just outside my dormitory. I was feeling for the doorknob behind me, intending to slip inside and slam the door to his face.

He pushed me against the door, one hand flat against my chest, the other grabbing my chin harshly. He switched to French asking me how I did it and who the fuck I think I am and why Lucius kept talking about me. All that while pressing on my cheeks so hard I could feel blood in my mouth and slamming me against the door. Luckily, a couple of second years saw what was going on and called Rabastan Lestrange. My guess is that they called him under his Prefect capacity. However, he and Stefan are quite close even though Rabastan isn’t using anything as far as I know. He pulled Stefan off me and yelled at me to get lost.

How is everything my fault?


5/4/1976
These games I’ve been playing with Jigger are dangerous.

6/4/1976
I didn’t have time to go into more detail yesterday. I spent my afternoon with Jigger, helping him with a basic bone mending potion. There’s always need for it during Quidditch season. I was dead tired but didn’t complain. The laboratory was as hot as a furnace. I had undone the top buttons on my robes but I could still feel the sweat running like a river down my back and my chest.

I was nearly done with the potion, stirring hard when I asked Jigger for essence of belladonna. He was standing in front of his storage cupboard, staring at it as though he’d never seen it before in his life. I asked him again but he didn’t move. I went to get it myself, huffing impatiently and showing that I knew where he kept things far better than I should, come to think of it. His mind was definitely not on that, luckily for me.

I accidentally brushed against him as I bent to get the phial. He was hard. He took a step back and yelled at me to stop this. It had been an accident so I just stood there for a moment. I’d nearly dropped the phial when he raised his voice, my heart racing as I instinctively waited for the blow to fall. I hate these conditioned responses I got courtesy of my loving father.

Jigger was trembling, his chests rising and falling rapidly, his eyes darting around madly. I almost felt sorry for him.

There was silence for a while, broken only by my potion boiling away on its way to becoming a useless brown sludge. I felt Jigger’s still trembling hand against my chin as he tilted my head. My eyes were closed.

“Who hit you?” he asked gently.

I realised that my sweat had obviously washed away the covering powder I had applied on the bruise Stefan had left on my cheek.

I opened my eyes. “No, one, it doesn’t matter,” I murmured, trying to pull back from him.

He didn’t let go of my face. “I want to help you, Severus,” he whispered.

I turned my head until my lips were touching his fingers and told him that he was helping me and that I’d like to help him as well. I licked on his index finger and sucked it into my mouth to give him an idea of what I meant. It tasted salty (sweat, I suppose) and rather bitter (some potion ingredient, I’d rather not know exactly what) but I didn’t make a face. I was going for seduction so I just closed my eyes again and sucked.

His breathing became shallow. I reached and grabbed his prick through his robes. I couldn’t miss. The cloth was damp in my hand, he must have been carrying that hard-on for a while. He pressed against my palm, just rubbed frantically while I sucked a second finger into my mouth. I had at best a semi. I’m actually harder now, thinking about it, than I was while doing it. Jigger was wild. A few squeezes and more wetness and heat seeped through the fine material.

He hardly made a sound as he came in his robes. I was still pressing on his prick, wringing it. The air was heavy with the smell of our sweat, my ruined potion and faint smell which I knew was his come… He
pulled his fingers out of my mouth and pushed my hand away from his prick. He slowly collapsed, leaning heavily against the potions cupboard. It wobbled. I was sure for a moment it would land on top of him. Going by his expression, he would probably have welcomed that at that moment.

He was still panting heavily, his breath catching in his throat. He had covered his face with his arm. I asked him whether he was all right and reached to touch his shoulder. He flinched back from me and begged me to leave him alone.

I didn’t mean to do this to old Jigger. I honestly like him. It’s only sex, it’s not as though I was untouched before.

I hope that when he said I should leave him alone he didn’t mean I won’t be working as his assistant anymore. I need the money.


8/4/1976
Fifth year Potions was even more boring than I remembered it. At least Evan had no qualms about abandoning Wilkes in this one and pairing up with me. A lot of good it did him. Jigger steadily ignored my existence and in the end took off marks because I “hadn’t corked the sample properly.” What bollocks!


9/4/1976
After Flying today in the communal showers (home of much communal wanking and prick measuring), Lestrange informed me that “it’s not
happening again,” backing away from me as though I was about to molest him. I was simply washing myself, trying not to touch the sore spots too much (as if that was easy. I lost count of how many times I fell off my broom in this lesson alone. I wonder whether I could be allowed to take Flying with Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Potter or Black merely passing by is enough. They don’t even have to do anything anymore. I get so scared I do their work for them. Before I know it I’m on the ground.)

Back to Lestrange. It was quite funny. I asked him what the fuck he was talking about and reached past him to turn off the water. He backed up until he was flat against the wall. I didn’t know that all I had to do to scare people was suck them off. Perhaps that would be the answer to my problems with Potter and his cronies.

I’m tired. So tired I’m writing nonsense. I feel as though I’m drunk. I wish I could talk to Evan but he snuck out. He went and got together with that wanker just when I needed him the most.