I See Black Light (Arialieur)

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Death has a name.
His name is Severus Snape.
As if an unknown entity needs last name, Tom lamented, but his face betrayed nothing to the entity who came to him that night, the night when he killed his father's family and almost killing himself in the process. In that moment between life and death, he saw The Death. He was...nothing like Tom expected.
"I thought your name was Death." Tom pointed out as Snape? Severus? Sev? Collected every glowing sphere floated on top of his father's family's corpses. With a swish of his wand—black, surprisingly without any markings or ornaments—all glowing sphere entered the glass bottle on his hand.
"An appropriate name. But Severus Snape is the name that I choose myself." Severus said, pocketing the bottle before turning his back.
"Wa-wait!" Tom called him, "Aren't you going to take my soul too?"
Suddenly, Severus is already in front of him, that pair of black orbs studying him intently. "You just split your soul in three pieces. I cannot take you, Tom Marvolo Riddle."
"Not today, then." Tom presented his bad boy-ish grins, the one who charmed all Hogwart's residents. Severus did not smile back, but Tom can see amusement dancing in those eyes.
Tom Riddle was sixteen when he found out Death's name.
He believed they will meet again.

Tom came back to Hogwarts a changed man.

He eyed Slughorn with an air of superiority. While that man can only tell stories, Tom was living it.

He was the story. He was legend.

He met Death, and came out alive.

---

I See Black Light

Supernatural, T-rated, semi-AU

Tom Riddle & Severus Snape

Based on JK Rowling's Harry Potter

Written for Snape Day Challenge by Ambudaff

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The first time Tom created a horcrux, Severus did not come to him. The fact that Myrtle's ghost remains in this world also mean that Severus didn't collect her soul. He asked the man why, when they meet at his third horcrux creation.
"I was there." Severus said, as he collected the nameless Albanian man's soul inside his glass bottle. "But you didn't see me."
He was gone after that, leaving Tom shivering alone on the forest floor. Splitting his soul always left him cold inside and outside. As if suddenly half the space inside him became empty, leaving him brittle and fragile. The pain, though, the pain was worth it.
He's willingly ripped his soul away to achieve immortality.
Myrtle, it seems, was too attached to this world so Severus didn't take her. Tom is suspicious that Myrtle actually used her new ghastly status as an excuse to peek on boy's bathroom.

Killing human was easier now, when he knows it will make Severus come to him.

The Death keeps on dancing on his mind when he's awake, plaguing his dreams when he's asleep.

Tom finds himself wanting more, more horcrux so he can guarantee this immortality.

After all, a mortal can only court death when death no longer able to touch him.

"Are you stalking me?" Tom asked, one day, after he killed four muggles who came too close to his shack in Albania. The Death always presents whenever Tom killed anyone, these days. It feels like he was offering human sacrifices for the Death, not that Tom minded in the slightest. He would prefer if the human sacrifices is for him, though. But competing with the Death himself is futile, he thinks.
At Tom's question, Severus spared him a glance, face still impassive. "It is my job to attend any death-related events." He answered.
"Are there any other death reapers out there?" Tom cannot hold his curiousity. He assumed Severus is a death reaper.
"You are not authorized to know." Severus said, matter-of-factly.
"Authorized by who?"
Severus' lips curled up slightly in the corner. It's his smug face, Tom realized, the one he pulled when he knows something that Tom doesn't. It's worrisome that the smug face came out too often for Tom's liking. In a blink of an eye, the man vanished to thin air. Only his whispered voice lingered.
"Until then, Tom Riddle."

Tom was working on Borgin and Burke's when he stumbled on stories of The Deathly Hallows.

Imagine how surprised he was when he found out he possessed the resurrection stone.

Severus confirmed that he did, in fact, give the three items to Peverell brothers.

Tom can't help feeling giddy—if not a bit petty—that Dumbledore's theory on the children fairytale turns out wrong.

The Peverell didn't create the hallows, Severus did.

"Why did you give the invisibility cloak to Ignotus Peverell?" Tom asked, Hepzibah Smith's corpse sprawled on the floor. Good riddance, in Tom's opinion. The woman liked to touch him in a way that makes Tom's skin crawled with disgust.
"He asked."
"That easy?" there's note of jealousy somewhere in Tom's question.
"His request was the most interesting. Granted, the other two are amusing to me too, but the cloak was the one causing me less work."
Tom does know that the elder wand and resurrection stone caused a lot of fight and death. "I caused you a lot of work," Tom said, "My antics should've made you not amused all this time."
Severus, in a moment of an out-of-character chuckle, said "You are the most amusing of all, Tom Riddle." He then proceeds to extract Smith's soul inside the glass bottle. "By the way, are you planning to make another horcrux?" Severus asked.
Tom smirked, "You'd know when I do. It will be a surprise. I need to keep you on your toes, after all."
Severus ignored the last comment, his face turned serious. "Your soul will bear irreversible damage if you keep this up. The repentance will be too painful for you."
"Are you disappointed that you can't take my soul?"
Severus shakes his head, wistful smile on his face. "My warning is because we've already become, dare I say, companion. Good day, Tom Riddle."
Isn't it say something to Tom's social skill that the first and only person who become his friend is Death himself?

The wizard spat blood on the ground. "I pray death will be upon you!" he cursed.

"Death is my friend." Voldemort said simply as Avery's light-green avada kedavra killed the man.

It was said in utter honesty.

Severus did not come, but Tom knew that he heard.

Severus didn't seem surprised when Tom created his fifth horcrux.
The muggle tramp was beautiful, for muggle standard—there's no way Tom choose just anyone to lain with, she or he should at least the most beautiful around. She is more beautiful as corpse, though. No fake moans or giggles. Good riddance, just like the others.
"You are not planning to repent." Severus said matter-of-factly.
"I'm not. I'll stay on earth forever, longer than anyone else. That way I can keep meeting you."
"No one lives forever."
Tom cupped Severus' cheek, thumbs caressing lightly. His skin was cold and smooth, like a statue carved from marbles. All sharp angles and striking eyes. It was perfect. "You do. And I'll keep on living with you."
Severus closed his eyes for a moment, face conflicted. "This is futile. I will have to take your soul someday."
Tom pulled Severus' face until their cheek touched. He whispered right in Severus' ear "But not today." Tom added a chaste kiss on the Death's cheek for good measure.
Severus let out a long-suffering sigh, slowly vanishing from Tom's sight.

Tom watched as Lucius Malfoy killed the boy, one that he doesn't care to know the name.

Severus didn't show up again.

He gathered that he can only see Severus when it was him doing the killing, not others.

Tom knows the face of this kneeling young man. It was awfully familiar with the death entity he encountered over the years. He almost can't stop himself from casting a killing curse, just to see if this human, the one bearing Severus Snape name, will die. He killed a death eater standing beside human-Severus instead, then wait.
He expected Severus—the Death—to come anytime now, but there are no familiar drawl that he was accustomed to. Instead, human-Severus' eyes are glowing green, just like it was covered by a killing curse. The human body rose from the ground to a standing position so they can see eye-to-eye.
"So you're a human now?" Tom asked, because he knows that THIS is his Severus.
"I can be human when need—"
"Avada kedavra!" The green light bounced harmlessly over Severus' body. Tom shrugged, it was worth a shot.
"—like I was trying to say before you interrupted, I can be human when needed. Doesn't mean my human version can die like normal human."
"Hmm. Interesting. Does your human counterpart know everything about you too? About us?" Tom starting to make a plan to 'kill' human-Severus in public, so he will be forced to leave the human realm. Severus' presence is his and his alone.
"He doesn't have my memories, practically his own person." The Death chuckled lightly, added, "He's afraid of you."
And isn't it funny? A Severus Snape who is afraid of Tom Riddle. "Like all my followers should be."
"I'm not afraid of you."
"Of course not, you're The Death. I should be afraid of you."
"But you don't."
"No, I don't."
"Why went so far that you split your soul, then, if you are not afraid of death?"
Tom smirked, "I think you already know." he took a step closer, then another. "I did it because…"
He brought his face closer to Severus', lips hovering near the man's. Close, but yet to touch. As sudden as they came, the green glow vanished and Severus—human-Severus—drop to the floor. The young man woke up disoriented, Tom can see his eyes widen in shock at the sight of his fellow death-eaters' unmoving body.
"My-My Lord?" his voice timid as he called Voldemort. A stark contrast with his counterpart.
Tom tamped down the wave of disappointment before he asked, voice silken, "Now what about this prophecy you heard about my demise?"

A choice, between the Longbottom or the Potter.

Young Severus Snape's eyes widen a fraction upon hearing the Potter's name,

went so far to beg for Lily Potter's life. It was an easy choice, then.

Lily Potter must die.

Voldemort came, that night, to Godric's Hollow. James Potter didn't stand a chance.
Tom took his time studying Lily Potter's features. The woman was standing in front of her son's crib, all bravado wrapped in a sweet face. He still didn't get it, though, what was so good about this woman that makes Severus Snape—the human—so attached? She was so easy to kill too, fallen in a lifeless heap in front of her son's crib.
The baby was crying in earnest now.
This baby was the proof of his desperation to keep his immortality, he mused. Voldemort was not one to rely on a prophecy, having spent his life building his own way—and look where he is now, with all that power in his hand. But when it came to his immortality, he was always, always desperate. He has to make sure nothing comes between him and his Death. Nothing, not even a prophecy, much less a powerless infant.
Voldemort casted the curse to kill the baby, and then his world exploded.
It was like his soul was ripped into many, many pieces in one time. The pain was unimaginable, his memories in disarray because the fragments of his soul pulled him to each of its own direction, confusing himself at what point of life he was in. Tom chanted Severus' name, he doesn't want to forget. Never, never forget…
A vast darkness embraced his soul. He was less than spirits, less than meanest ghost.
"I told you not to kill Lily Potter." Severus said, as Tom's conscience slowly slipping.
"It was you? I thought it was the foolish attachment your human has." Tom didn't even hide the note of jealousy on his voice. In front of his Severus, there's no point in hiding.
"It led you to your demise." Was that regret on the Death's voice?
"I am alive." Tom said simply. He was.
For a moment, Severus looked at Tom intently, like he never saw him before. He raised his hand slightly in Tom's direction, but aborted it in last minute. The jerking motion was noticeable by Tom, who smiled wistfully at that.
"It will be quiet the next few years you're not around." Severus finally said, before he, too, fade behind the dark veil covering Tom's being. Tom smiled again, the kind of smile that only Severus has the privilege to see. He closed his eyes and let himself being one with the darkness. He knows Severus will come to take him, one day. But not today.
Not today.

Years later, as Voldemort lost the duel against Harry Potter, he saw Severus's face.

The Death kneeled beside him, hands slowly caressing Tom's deteriorating soul.

"I can't take your soul. It was too damaged." He said with his usual cold expression, but Tom knew better.

Tom smiled so wide his face hurt, this time, because he's the only soul in this universe that managed to put a crack on Death's mask.

"It doesn't matter." Tom said, "I will be the only soul you remembered."

And that is enough for Tom.

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The End

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And now, the boring part: Author's note,
I own nothing, even some of the plot was JK Rowling's. Title was taken from Victor Hugo's last words. "I was less than spirits, less than meanest ghost." was said by Voldemort, somewhere in one of the books.
English is not my first language, and this story is unbeta-ed, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes.
This entry is supposed to be part of the celebration for Snape's birthday or something, it was a challenge in a forum. For me, I just want an excuse to write Snape as a death reaper, and who would have the opportunity to meet one if it's not our resident Dark Lord, now wouldn't he?
Anyway, I really enjoyed writing this so I hope you will enjoy reading it.

It's Alright (Zang)

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Title : It's Alright
Rating : K+
Genre : Family
Summary : For Snape Day 2014. Raising a kid is not easy. Perhaps it's time to accept others' help.
Disclaimer : Harry Potter doesn't belong to me.
.-.-.
Snape panicked. He frantically thought about his son's possible whereabouts. The man tugged his hair again and again until it frizzled and his fingers got stuck in it.
"Where are you, Harry?" he whispered mournfully.
Harry had been giving him constant headache. The boy was very active and liked moving here and there. He didn't mind it when Harry explored their quarters or wandered around Hogwarts if he was with Harry.
Unfortunately, Harry also gave troubles to his school.
Harry's school was located in the busiest street in Hogsmeade. There were magical markets and shops around the school. Harry liked to go out of school during recess and explored them. Snape was fond of Harry's curiosity but loathed the problems that followed.
The small boy had visited food courts, vegetable sections and husbandry market. When break time came, Harry darted to the markets. His teachers searched him frantically and even desperately firecalled him. That had already happened twice. Snape had to apologize repeatedly and promised that he'd have a talk with his son about his constant disappearance.
This time Harry was lost again.
Albus entered when he was pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, considering where to floo in the first place. "Severus? Something's wrong?"
"I'm afraid so, Albus," Snape answered quickly.
"Tell me, my boy."
"I don't know if it's the right time. I should hurry—"
"Please spare me a minute. Tell me briefly about what's bothering you. Perhaps I can help."
Snape inhaled and exhaled loudly. He stared at his headmaster. Somehow Albus's calm aura made his worry subside.
"I lost Harry. The school and I, I mean," Snape told Dumbledore.
"So why are you here now?" Dumbledore asked curiously.
"I just came from Harry's school. I intended to pick him up but when I got there, Harry was already gone. I searched for him in the markets, ice cream parlor, pet shops, and anywhere but I didn't find him." Now Snape was shaking. He spoke faster. "Then I thought maybe Harry was already in the castle, somehow managed to be here I don't know how. But no, Harry is nowhere. Not inside Hogwarts or Hagrid's Hut."
Dumbledore was alert. "But I believe Harry is not in danger. He's a smart boy."
The word 'kidnapped' hung in the air, unspoken. Although Snape was sure that Harry was safe now somewhere, he couldn't erase the uneasy feelings about his son.
"Didn't you put a tracker in Harry?" Dumbledore queried.
Snape staggered. "No, I didn't," he answered weakly. "I thought he wouldn't need it. I thought I could keep him safe, Albus."
Dumbledore reassured his employee. "Try to remember, maybe Harry said something about going somewhere."
Snape clutched his robes. He rummaged his memories, carefully sorting the conversations between him and Harry. "I remember Harry saying about going home by himself this morning." Snape closed his eyes. "But I didn't think he would do it today."
Dumbledore was ready. "Let's comb every way to Hogwarts. Maybe we will cross path with him."
"Thanks, Albus." Snape couldn't refuse the headmaster's offer. Whatever would help him find his wayward son, he would gladly accept them.
The floo flared just when the two men almost reached the fireplace. They were startled.
Sirius Black's head appeared. His handsome face looked angry. "Snape!" he growled.
"Black. What do you need?" Snape nearly jumped.
"I need to punch you and hex you to the next year!" Sirius spat.
"The feeling is mutual, Black, but now is not the appropriate time for childish bickering."
"Harry's at my place."
Sirius's cold tone successfully silenced Snape. "What?"
"You heard me, unless you've lost your hearing."
Snape sank to a cushion in relief. "Thanks, Merlin."
"We'll come and get Harry," Dumbledore interrupted. "Please let us in, Sirius." He grabbed Snape's arm and a handful of floo powder.
The moment Snape saw Harry, he hugged his six year old son tightly. "Merlin, Harry. You frightened me."
Harry patted his father's back, surprised. "Why should you, Daddy? I'm alright."
"I'm not alright when I don't know where you are." Snape tenderly looked at his adoptive son. He was relieved when he saw Harry was smiling cheerfully, not knowing how Snape nearly dropped to his knees crying.
"I told you I would go home by myself," Harry defiantly stated. His little face looked determined.
"You should be glad I strolled around my land this afternoon. I thought he was lost," Sirius growled. He stood menacingly before Snape.
"Oh, I met Uncle Sirius, Daddy," Harry cheerfully said. "He asked me to come to this cottage. I was thirsty so I followed him."
Unconsciously Snape tightened his hold on his son. It took some time from Harry's school to Sirius's small cottage there, so it's no wonder if Harry felt tired and thirsty.
"Don't do that again, Harry," Snape whispered. He ignored Sirius's glare. The most important thing at that moment was his son.
"But I want to be a big boy, Daddy," Harry replied quietly. He wiggled in his father's arms. "Besides, sometimes I went home alone when I was at my old school."
Snape was enraged. How could the Dursleys let a young boy like Harry wandered on the street alone? He was glad that he had taken Harry from that horrible family three months ago.
The young Potions Master knew Harry's intention to be independent. The boy had used to be, but Snape didn't want Harry to grow up so fast, or too mature for his age. "I'm worried, Son."
"I'm sorry."
Snape still hugged Harry. He got up and reluctantly faced Sirius. "Thank you, for taking Harry in." If it's not for Harry, Snape would never stoop so low as to thank his former nemesis.
Sirius narrowed his eyes. "You do know that James appointed me as Harry's godfather, don't you?"
Snape nodded his head. He didn't like where Sirius led this conversation.
"Suppose something happens to Harry, because of your recklessness, I have the right to take him away from you and protect him under my wings," Sirius continued heatedly.
"I won't let you take him away," Snape hissed. He rubbed circle on Harry's back. The boy had fallen asleep, probably because of exhaustion.
Dumbledore chose that moment to interfere. "Let us understand that Harry's at the stage where he has much curiosity. It's normal for him to act on impulse. Running away from school, wanting to make his father proud," he shot a look in Snape's direction. "Quarrelling will not solve problems."
"I can't just keep Harry at Hogwarts while I am working." Snape let out a breath. His frustration started to show. He hadn't thought that having a child would be so taxing, exhausting and sometimes he's worried sick about Harry. But he didn't regret it. He had come to love the boy. He was certain that Lily would have been happy that her beloved son now was in the right hand, unlike he had been before.
Dumbledore nodded in understanding.
"How about this?" Sirius impatiently gave his opinion. "When you can't pick up Harry at school, I will do that. That way Harry is taken care of. No one will be worried."
Snape contemplated. He didn't like the idea but knew Sirius was right. "But he will always be my son," he stated firmly.
Sirius, despite his age, rolled his eyes. He couldn't have done much for Harry when he had been imprisoned in Azkaban. Now that his name was clean and he was free, he'd do anything for his late best friends' son.
Dumbledore smiled. "You don't have to do this alone, Severus," he said softly. "Harry loves you very much. It's obvious so you shouldn't get worried somebody will steal his affection away."
"I know," Snape said quickly. He was embarrassed that Dumbledore revealed his trouble in front of Sirius.
"Raising a kid is not easy. It's okay for others to help you," the bearded man continued.
"Especially when others are sincere," Sirius grunted.
Maybe it's alright. Inwardly Snape agreed. Perhaps it's time to accept others' help.
.-.-.

The End

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Troublesome Nightmares (Zang)

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Title : Troublesome Nightmares
Rating : K+
Genres : Humor, Family
Summary : "It's scary, Dad! The zombies chased me, the vampires wanted to bite me, the giant Basilisk asked me to hatch her eggs," Harry stammered. He agreed to return the last vial of Dreamless Sleep Potions after he had bargained with Snape. The young father should accompany Harry while the boy was watching movies. When Harry got nightmares, Snape should be willing to be woken up and wouldn't sleep until Harry was asleep. A response to Dreamless Sleep Addiction challenge by Jan_AQ in Potions and Snitches and for Snape Day 2014 in Infantrum.
Disclaimer : Harry Potter isn't mine. It belongs to JK Rowling.
.-.-.
Snape could never think of being away from potions, or brewing, even for a day. When he wasn't brewing potions, the black haired man read potions journals. He knew people called him potions obsessed, but why should he care? When they needed medicine to cure their flu, to heal their cuts or wounds, who did they go to? Him! Well, it's not like Snape complained. Even when he did, people still pestered him for potions. But in return, Snape got many things from them: fruit, chocolate, food, fabric.
That summer holiday, he decided to spend the first few weeks in Spinner's End. Harry was okay with them not going anywhere. The fourteen year old boy told his adoptive father that he'd like to get to know his new laptop, so staying at home was also his best option.
That night Snape was arranging the vials in the cabinet when a shriek came from the sitting room. He hastily ran as fast as his long legs could, afraid that something happened to Harry. He stopped short when he saw his son was safe and sound, although at that time Harry was covering his face with his hands, his posture was stiff. He looked like he wanted to get away from something.
"What happened?" Snape asked.
Harry looked up. "Dad?"
Snape immediately checked for injury or curse on Harry.
"It's scary," Harry whispered.
"What's scary?"
A finger pointed at a film playing on the laptop.
Snape was annoyed. "You shrieked because of a horror movie?"
"I didn't shriek! Sheesh, Dad, only girls do." After assuring his father that he was more than fine, Harry went back to watch the movie.
So every day Harry and Snape did their own routine. Snape brewed potions and Harry did his homework. The green eyed boy felt the pressure of being the son of one of Hogwarts teachers. People expected him to get good grades and smart. He wanted to live up to those expectations and make his father proud of him.
At night, both of them took a break: Snape read and Harry watched some movies. Sometimes the father admonished Harry because of his fascination in horror movies. The-not-manly-scream and Harry's nightmares nearly gave Snape heart attack every day. The threat to incendio the laptop tamed the shriek and the nightmares stopped.
However, while counting the vials which would be delivered to Molly Weasley, Snape noticed that the ten vials of Dreamless Sleep potions were empty. They had been full before. The Potions Master frowned. It's impossible if there were animals or trespassers barged into his house and only consumed that kind of potions.
The thirty six year old man rechecked his wards but found nothing. It's still perfectly intact. He went out to check the gate, the garden, the lamps and everything he could think of. He began to get worried until he saw Harry calmly opened his laptop, with a small vial next to a cushion.
Snape gasped.
Harry turned his head when he heard the sharp intake of breath. "What's wrong, Dad?"
And Snape's head was flooded with realization.
…Harry's new hobby of watching horror movies, the boy's constant nightmares almost every night...
It had stopped since days ago.
Snape slowly approached Harry, who squirmed uneasily. He sensed confusion and anger coming from his father.
"Have you been consuming Dreamless Sleep for ten days in a row?" Snape queried.
"Yes," Harry answered, suddenly scared.
Snape eyed him sharply. Snape's eyes were famous for their look which could make youngsters want to pee their pants. "Why?" he demanded answers even though he already knew why.
Harry toyed with the sleeve of his T-shirt. "I kept having nightmares," he answered truthfully.
"After watching movies?"
"Yes."
"Harry!"
"It's scary, Dad! The zombies chased me, the vampires wanted to bite me, the giant Basilisk asked me to hatch her eggs," Harry stammered.
It was getting more ridiculous. Snape almost snorted. There were no giant Basilisks, they're already gigantic.
He kept listening to Harry's incredulous stories.
"But Dreamless Sleep isn't a solution," Snape sternly warned.
"I know," Harry replied weakly.
"Stop watching the trash, then."
Harry looked at him, scared at the idea than the possibilities of having nightmares again. "But- -but…"
That night Snape lectured him about the danger of being addicted to the potions. If Harry was asked to recite what his father had told him, he was sure he could write the ingredients of Dreamless Sleep Potions, where to get them, how to brew it, when to give it and when to stop having it. In a two-meter-long parchment, in handwriting as big as Hermione's.
Harry agreed to return the last vial of the potions after he had bargained with Snape. The young father should accompany Harry while the boy was watching movies. When Harry got nightmares, Snape should be willing to be woken up and wouldn't sleep until Harry was asleep.
Snape groaned when that night Harry shook him, waking him from his peaceful slumber. Again, in five nights in a row.
.-.-.

The End

Never Alone (Zang)

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Title : Never Alone
Rating : K+
Genre : Angst
Characters : Snape, Dumbledore
Summary : Snape realized he shouldn't consume a candy, especially made from lemon. But he didn't care. He was better, only felt slightly nauseous from the residue of the medicines he had previously taken. "Yes, please." For Yes To Lemon Drops challenge by RhiannanT in Potions and Snitches and for Snape Day 2014 in Infantrum.
Disclaimer : Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling.
.-.-.
Snape hated medicines.
Well, he didn't resent those capsules or tablets. He only loathed them when he was sick and had to consume them. He could just throw them away, but then, how could he heal? Taking a bed rest sometimes wasn't enough.
When he had been young, bitter medicines had made him vomit. He couldn't just swallow them, with water or else. Being sick was annoying, but the real torture was when it's time for those capsules or tablets to go through his throat. He had ever asked for potions as the substitute but the healer he frequented said that potions for certain sickness had limitations. Snape had surrendered and braced himself every time he had to take the medicines. Until now, fighting dragons still looked more appealing than fighting medicines.
So, Snape tried his best not to get sick. He might be thin but he had some muscles. When he had a chance, he exercised. He did everything to stay healthy.
Unfortunately, right after the celebration of his birthday party, the twenty four year old man fell ill. Snape suffered dysentery. It must have been from something he had eaten. He had adamantly refused Dumbledore's offer to celebrate the special day, but the old man had been persistent. After having adjusted their robes into Muggle clothing, all the Hogwarts staff had gone to a Muggle restaurant and had eaten there. Everyone was fine the next day, except Snape.
Pomfrey panicked because her young patient kept vomiting the medicines. Snape even pitied her, and embarrassed too because she had to help him to go to the bathroom.
"You're getting worse," Dumbledore said. He quietly sat beside Snape's bed. The twinkle in his eyes was gone. The man's face was lined with worry, especially when he looked at a magical IV connected to Snape's hand.
Snape hoarsely answered, "I think so." Even talking exerted his energy. He felt totally drained.
"A trip to St. Mungo is in order if he still vomits and the bathroom visit is still this bad," Pomfrey told his employer.
Snape opened his eyes, shaking his head. The world was spinning worse than before. "No! Not St. Mungo." Although people knew he was not a Death Eater anymore, he was still treated badly, no matter where.
"You can barely speak, you can't stand and you're shaking," Pomfrey put her cool hand on Snape's forehead.
Snape was sure he had caught another illness. It's like a combination of dysentery, flu, fever, cold and other things Snape had difficulty to mention at the moment.
Dumbledore patted Snape's back softly when the Potions Master vomited again.
Pomfrey gave him another medicine when one of the pills couldn't make it past his throat.
"It's not a curse, isn't it?" Dumbledore whispered.
Pomfrey shook her head. "No, Sir. His immune is dropping. It's like he's been healthy for a long time and then caught many illness in a sudden."
When Snape opened his eyes again, the first thing he saw was a very long beard and the first sound in his ears was a soft snore. "Headmaster?"
Dumbledore didn't wake up. He stayed still in his conjured sofa.
It brought a smile to Snape. He knew it was already night, yet this annoying old man didn't leave his side. He felt like a small boy being waited by his father. Something his own father had never done.
Snape's scratching his pale hand that woke Dumbledore.
"Severus? Do you need something?" was the headmaster's first words.
"No, I don't need anything."
Dumbledore examined him and then smiled. "How are you, my boy?"
It's hard not to smile back to Dumbledore. "I feel better."
Dumbledore gave him a glass of water, which Snape was very thankful. After saying thank you, he noticed several wrappings next to Dumbledore's book.
The other wizard knew it. "Lemon Drop?"
Snape realized he shouldn't consume a candy, especially made from lemon. But he didn't care. He was better, only felt slightly nausea from the residue of the medicines he had previously taken. "Yes, please." He refused Dumbledore's offer to open the wrapping.
Miraculously the bitterness in his mouth was gone, replaced with sweet and sour taste.
"Why are you frowning?"
"It's good!"
Dumbledore chuckled. Trust Snape to have a nice facial expression, and you'd be mostly disappointed.
"Now I see why you like them so much."
"Ah. Lemon Drops are the best thing that could happen in Wizarding World," Dumbledore humbly said.
Snape believed that he recovered pretty quickly because Dumbledore and Pomfrey kept him company. It was bad to be bedridden, but not so miserable when he had regular visitors, even though one of them was a healer.
After being discharged from the infirmary, Snape ordered packs of Lemon Drops, all variants, for his kind employer.
.-.-.

The End

No More Dreamless Sleep (Zang)

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Title : No More Dreamless Sleep
Rating : K+
Genre : Drama
Characters : Snape, Harry
Summary : Harry had been consuming Dreamless Sleep Potions in unhealthy dose. Snape did something about it. Response to Dreamless Addiction challenge by Jan_AQ in Potions and Snitches and for Snape Day 2014 in Infantrum.
Disclaimer : Harry Potter isn't mine.
.-.-.
"Can you please brew some more Dreamless Sleep potions?" Pomfrey asked.
Snape frowned. "I thought I already gave you enough to last a month," he replied.
The old matron sighed. "It should be, Severus, but I run out of it now." She sat on one of the desks in the Potions Lab.
"Nonsense, Poppy." Snape stared at the grey haired woman as if she was joking.
Pomfrey stared back. She firmly stated that she was serious.
"Midterm exams are still two months from now. Even the most air headed students won't feel that nervous," Snape snorted. He turned off the flame on a cauldron and let it cool.
"No, it's not the students," the old witch said.
"Then who?"
"It's Harry. He nearly comes everyday to the infirmary, asking for the potions," Pomfrey kindly explained. "I became worried about him," she added softly.
Snape couldn't understand it. It'd been years since The Final Battle. The Dark Lord was gone and Wizarding World was peaceful. He thought that the young Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher should have nothing to worry about, no need to seek comfort in Dreamless Sleep. "Dreamless Sleep shouldn't be consumed every day," he said. "Excessive consumption of it could damage his body. And his minds too. I don't think society would accept it if their Savior goes mental," he grunted.
"I think Harry has his own problems," Pomfrey wisely commented. "He should talk to someone about it."
"True. Dreamless isn't a way out. It's not a solution."
Snape reluctantly contemplated how he had been right after The Final Battle. The Potions Master had needed Calming Draught and Dreamless Sleep almost every other day. It had been very bad that he resorted to consume those potions, to fight off the nightmares about things he had done when he was a foolish and stupid man.
Snape brewed the potions Pomfrey had asked, but she wouldn't give it again to Harry. Not until she saw it fit.
The Head House of Slytherin noticed that Harry was pale and gaunt. The emerald eyes -so much like Lily's- - were in deep reverie nearly every time Snape saw him. Snape instantly knew that the 23 year old professor was profoundly troubled.
Harry didn't ask for Dreamless again to Pomfrey. He realized that the matron wouldn't give it to him. But Snape knew that Harry still consumed it, judging from his worse state.
One evening after the school hours ended, Snape confronted him in the Defense classroom. The Hero was startled.
"Can I help you?" Harry asked tiredly.
Snape shook his head. "I think it's you who need help," he retorted.
Harry rubbed his temple. "I don't need any," he rejected.
Snape crossed the room and stood tall before the sitting young man. "The man who consumes Dreamless Potions in unhealthy dose indeed needs help," he calmly spoke.
Harry stiffened. "I stop having it."
Snape glared. He was a little bit satisfied when Harry flinched. Even though they were not student and teacher again, Snape still had terrifying effects on his former student. "What do you take me for, Mr. Potter?" he snapped, irritated. "I know all of the effects of every potion. You stop pestering Poppy but still have access to get it from outside Hogwarts."
Harry looked up, his face went white.
"The man in the Apothecary in Hogsmeade told me that you order the potions. You owl him every three days. We all know you wouldn't brew it yourself, with your horrible skill in brewing potions."
"That's not your business," the young man hissed murderously.
"No, it's not," Snape agreed, angering Harry even more. "But I don't want to be accused of murdering The Boy Hero by using the seemingly harmless potions. Knowing how the people worship the ground you walk on, I wouldn't be surprised if I'd be targeted and accused, even though I'm not the one who sends you to grave."
"They won't."
"I'm the Potions Master. Who else is the Potions Maker if it's not me?"
Both of them were silent, with Harry looked defeated.
"I'm afraid to break my engagement to Ginny," Harry told him. He looked way older.
"Afraid of breaking her heart or receiving her family's wrath?" Snape offered.
Harry flinched. "I'm afraid of losing a family."
Snape understood. The only real family Harry had so far had was the Weasleys. "I don't see why you would want to do it. You two are the Golden Couple after all."
"I've realized something," Harry said. "I love her, as a sister. Not romantically. I don't know how to break it gently. I don't want to lose the family ties I've had with the Weasleys."
Snape sighed. "I can't help you. I hate to admit it, but maybe Lupin can give better advice than me."
"I didn't consider it before," Harry whispered, eyes wide. The werewolf was one of the wisest and most collected people he knew. Perhaps Lupin could give his best opinion about this.
"And please stop consuming Dreamless Sleep," Snape advised. "You really wouldn't want to know what would happen if you're addicted to it."
Harry shot a small smile. "Thanks, Professor, for your concern"
"I'm not concerned about you, Potter!" the older man denied.
.-.-.

The Beloved Severus Snape (Zang)

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Title : The Beloved Severus Snape
Summary : For Snapeday. Even though Severus Snape, also secretly known as Slytherus Snape, possessed bitter and stiff attitude, sharp tongue, snide remarks and a terrifying reputation as a Dungeon Bat, he was dearly loved by those who could see him beneath layers he wore. Dumbledore, and many more, perfectly knew that.
Genre : Humor
Rating: K+
Disclaimer : Harry Potter and its characters aren't mine. I only own the plot.

.-.-.

"I'm truly exhausted sometimes," muttered Severus absent-mindedly. "Tired of teaching those dunderheads. I doubt they even have brains."

Narcissa turned her head. "Why don't you resign?" she asked while putting the white roses she had brought from the Manor in a vase.

"Dumbledore won't let me," he answered with a grim marred his angular face. "No matter how many times I tell him I will hand in my resignation, he keeps refusing it. Says I'm too young to retire." Severus really hated that old man. He was very sure of that. But, come what may, the black-haired man could not refuse whatever Dumbledore asked. Willingly or reluctantly.

"You need a vacation," the blond woman commented, voicing her thoughts. "A very long vacation somewhere."

"Maybe," Severus grunted.

"Perhaps you're just bored," she added, pointing the obvious.

"I think so. That's why I'm here now," he agreed.

That day Severus should have taught a double class of Gryffindors and Slytherins of seventh year. The Potions Master mentally groaned. The seventh year students of that year, so far, had successfully given him constant headache. The famous bickering and fights between Draco –and many more from Slytherin House- with the Gryffindors led by their unofficial leader, a messy-black-haired trouble-magnet named Harry Bloody Potter, occurred almost daily. Spectacularly, none to say the least.
Explosions, hexes and nasty jinxes thrown and flied above heads were not uncommon occurrences.

It was true that the gaunt man was feared and every single word he said was more than enough to make students from every year behave. But he was only human –the truth that he kept to himself, paying no heed to the popular belief that saying he was a bat, a Dracula or some other dark creature lived in Hogwarts dungeon. He could feel fatigue and boredom. Lately it has reached its peak. He had enough. That was why he asked Dumbledore to permit him to be at his house and return teaching the following day. Spinner's End brought many unpleasant memories, but it was his house anyway. His home, too.

"What is your excuse?" Narcissa asked, slightly amused. Knowing that her former schoolmate flee from his duty and be at his sanctuary, Lucius and her paid him a visit.

"The students are told I'm sick," he answered tersely. Severus snorted indignantly.

After the Malfoys went home, the Potions Master tidied up his library. Spinner's End was not huge so there were not many he could do. After cleaning up his books from dust, he made tea and sat next to a huge pile of old heavy tomes.

"I should retire. Soon," he grunted to himself, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere. He pushed any thoughts about Hogwarts, students and teaching to the very back of his mind. Sometimes he wondered how he could stand it so far. Severus thought he could open an apothecary and sold potions. He was a great Potions Master after all. One of the greatest and the most talented on earth.
His headmaster himself stated it. He had patented his Wolfsbane Potions and earned a huge sum of money from it. Not to mention that he was a versatile and talented Legilimens too. Without teaching, Severus was certain he could live. Besides, many fields matched and were relevant to his skills. If somehow he could convince Dumbledore to let him leave Hogwarts…

Severus sighed.

Half heartedly the tall man left his home that evening for Hogwarts. Just outside his quarters Dumbledore had already waited for him.

"Everything went well, didn't it?" was Severus's greeting before both of them entered.

"As you wished," the silver-bearded man merrily answered.

"Good," Severus replied shortly.

"Your students asked me your whereabouts, actually," Dumbledore continued. The odd twinkles in his blue eyes instantly alarmed the younger man.

"You told them I was sick, didn't you?" black eyes narrowed dangerously.

Dumbledore hummed. "Of course, Severus, indeed, though I can't get this nagging feeling that they missed you today."

Severus snorted, for the second time that day. "I bet they were relieved. For one day their most hated teacher was away."

The headmaster chuckled. "I would say it was the opposite."

Severus immediately spotted a dozen of owls perched on his table, hooted impatiently. Those creatures glared at the teacher, as if saying that they had waited for ages and demanded fantastic treats.

"What the…" Never before Severus had so many owls. It rendered him speechless. He moved and took one letter from a snowy owl. Blotchy handwriting told him instantly the identity of the sender.

Dear Professor,

I'm sorry to hear that you're not in good condition to teach. Get well soon.

H. Potter

Another letter was also about sympathy because he couldn't teach that day. He even got one from Neville Longbottom. That round and timid boy clearly and explicitly showed in his handwriting that it took bloody courage to write and wish him well.

Without permission Dumbledore read every letter Severus had opened. "I was right!" he exclaimed cheerfully. "They really missed you," he reiterated.

Even the Potions Master couldn't muster smart remark. "I can't believe it," he whispered. He threw sharp comments and insults nearly every second. He would not be surprised if he won the honor as The Most Hated Teacher award every year of his career.

"Just do, Severus," Dumbledore informed him. "Apparently they were worried about you."

"Even though they fear me."

"Everyone is unique. Your personality is your greatest charm."

"Very consoling, Albus, thank you very much," Severus smoothly replied in annoyance.

"I wasn't lying," the bespectacled man argued. "You may not be in their good books but I can see that they respect you and I may say that you have special place in their hearts."

The corners of Severus's mouth twitched. Somehow it warmed his heart a bit. He was mildly touched. It was true that his students were quite handful, but he inwardly admitted that they were impressive and different.

"They missed my scything insults and bitter attitude," the pale man dryly said.

Dumbledore smiled enthusiastically.

The strangest thing was that Severus received a get-well-soon card from another house: Ms. Luna Lovegood from Ravenclaw. He frowned. It was pretty unexpected. He remembered that that day he should only teach Gryffindor and his House. Besides, the Lovegood girl was still in sixth year. She shouldn't have had something to do with his absence.

"Ah, you've found an admirer," Dumbledore pointed the two bars of chocolate from Luna and a huge yellow flower that resembled a cauliflower.

"No! Don't make a baseless conclusion," Severus warned darkly, dodging his employer's remark.

"See, it isn't too bad to continue your teaching," Dumbledore spoke softly and sat in a sofa in front of the Potions Master.

"I was considering about retiring…."

"Nonsense! Don't ever think that."

"But, Albus…"

"Your talent will not go to waste. I assure you, Severus, Hogwarts will mourn if you leave. Besides, your students are not as bad as you think they are."

The old headmaster could be very persuasive and persistent. Remembering how much Severus owed him: by trusting him when no one else did, the young teacher finally accepted his refusal. Again.
Absent-mindedly he read another letter while the weird flower from the Ravenclaw student singing in airy tune.

.-.-.

His birthday came that Saturday. Severus never thought it as an important event, except that it was a remembrance he was getting older and older. Although, he would always accept birthday gifts from other Head of Houses and the headmaster, out of courtesy. His godson even had given him his gift earlier, just when he had just woken up, much to Severus's displeasure.

The ex-Death Eater almost finished his breakfast when a blur of gold flashed to the teacher's table. Apparently that golden flash happened to be Luna Lovegood. Severus sensed something bad –more than bad and bordering on nauseating actually- when the girl stopped short in front of his table.

"Happy birthday, Professor," she said. Her voice was airy and her big eyes seemed glassier than Severus usually knew.

Almost all heads now turned to their direction. Severus could sense every eye of the students and teachers as well bore him. He had seen many things and fought countless battles, but this eerie situation made him involuntarily shuddered.

Luna stepped forward and held out a rectangular parchment. Was it a letter? She had enormous smile plastered on her small visage. Her eyes looked dreamy. "Professor?" the sing-song voice was heard.

"Take it, Severus!" Dumbledore whispered oh-so-loudly. From the corner of his eyes, Severus saw many students grin to each other.

Automatically the pale man took the letter. When his long fingers touched it, the parchment glowed the Ravenclaw's and Slytherin's colors simultaneously. Severus groaned. Suddenly he remembered that the blond girl was very adept at Charms. Her handiworks were spectacular and famous.

Luna still stood there, as if waiting for something.

Severus cleared his throat. He didn't want to make more scenes just this early morning. He was grateful that it was Saturday and not all of Hogwarts inhabitants were present. "Thank you, Miss Lovegood."

Luna's smile widened. How that was even possible, Severus didn't know. "You're welcome, Professor."

When she was still glued to the very floor, Severus hissed. "Go back to your seat!"

"I really like your voice, Sir. It is smooth."

Before Severus could utter a single word, Luna had dashed to the Ravenclaw's tables. Her friends congratulate her and patted her on the back.

"Nice job, Luna."

"So brave. You should have been in Gryffindor!"

"Merlin's beard! You're asking for death!"

There were few things that could make Severus embarrassed. This was no exception. Fortunately he could maintain his pale face. If he was a lesser man, he would have blushed furiously.

Even the strict Minerva looked amused. "You have a very nice admirer, Severus."

"He does," Dumbledore chuckled.

"Is that a love letter?" Flitwick asked with mirth in his eyes.

"Not that I intend to throw a wet blanket, but I should remind you that teacher-student romantic relationship is not recommended."

"Minerva!"

"Oh, don't be so grumpy, Severus. Waiting for a year or two is the best option."

"Good idea, Pomona."

Severus massaged his temple. In a sudden he felt he was already old. "Retire, Albus, I should retire immediately," he hissed.

Of course Dumbledore wouldn't have it. Even though Severus Snape, also secretly known as Slytherus Snape, possessed bitter and stiff attitude, sharp tongue, snide remarks and a terrifying reputation as a Dungeon Bat, he was dearly loved by those who could see him beneath layers he wore. Dumbledore, and many more, perfectly knew that.

.-.-.

The End

.-.-.

Happy #SnapeDay !