Hope For The Hopeless (Severus Snape x Reader)

Spinners End

Heat radiated onto your face as you listened to the sway of the trees; it moved in sync with the summer breeze that crept under the leg of your shorts. It was the warmest you had felt in a long time. Shielding your eyes as you opened them, you turned your head to the side to avoid the sting that the sun would inevitably bring. Rose Cottage.

It was aptly referred to as that because of the sheer amount of roses, of all colours and sizes, that would bloom around the property every year; your Grandmother did not possess one green finger, nor did she maintain them, but without fail and without explanation they would spring up and survive every season. You often pricked and scratched yourself on the sharp, fresh thorns; usually in search of bugs in the dirt. Beaten and bashed, dug up and often neglected, there they were, intact and not looking too worse for wear.

Standing up, you brushed the remnants of grass from your shorts and made your way to the cottage. It was a beautiful two storey building, white with a thatched roof and blue window shutters. Unusual; the door was unlocked, you walked in cautiously and looked around the small entrance hall.

"Grandma!" You shouted but there was no response. Maybe she was upstairs, she'd never hear you if she was pottering around up there.

The wooden stairs beneath your feet creaked at almost every step; they made it near impossible to sneak downstairs in the middle of the night when you couldn't sleep. Reaching the top, your eyes were drawn to your open bedroom door, "Grandma? You in there?" You asked as you walked in, but she wasn't; only Shackles the cat, passed out asleep and gently purring, occupied it. Gently sitting next to the slumbering, ginger ball of fur, you looked around your room. You'd scuffed and scratched the lavender paintwork while playing on numerous occasions but it was brought to life with the drawings you often did as you sat in the garden. Looking at them from that angle, you could see how wonky you had stuck them up.

Catching yourself in the small mirror on your drawers you stiffened. Slowly approaching the offending reflection you touched your cheek, the face that stared back looked familiar but not at the same time. A thick silver streak ran down the front of your hair and as you looked into your eyes, one blue, one green, you couldn't remember if they had always been like that or not. They closed heavily as you looked at yourself; sudden all-encompassing tiredness seeped into you; it made you walk back to the bed behind you and lie down, carefully, as not to wake Shackles. The frayed knitted doll next to your pillow tickled your nose as you cuddled into it and then nothing but darkness was before you.

When you woke up, Shackles was still purring away, but you could hear something downstairs now. You leapt up, padded along the landing and down them. It was your Grandmother in the kitchen; what she lacked in her gardening skills she made up for with her cooking. You ducked as a wooden spoon flew from the counter into her waiting hand. "Grandma."

"Oh hello, dear." She said as she continued cooking, her crisp white apron covering her yellow sundress.

"Where were you earlier? Why was the door left open?" You asked as you edged closer towards her. We never left the house unlocked. It had always, always been that way.

"What do you mean?" She asked as she turned and wiped her hand on a rag, "I've been in here all morning."

"Oh, but I came in from the garden and I called for you." You informed her, confused as to how you could have missed her in the kitchen.

"Nevermind. Did you sleep well, Esther?" She inquired kindly.

"Esther?"

"Yes, dear, you. Did you sleep okay? Still a bit confused? I've told you sleeping in the day will make your head fuzzy." She turned and stirred the food in the pan again.