Harry Potter One Shots

The Middle Zero (Snape)

All rights belong to the author, ToBeAJabberwocky

Severus Snape is in the Muggle world, passing quite well as a muggle man. His form is a lucid fixture as he sits between realms so close and so familiar to the other. On his hip, a small revolver is attached to a black leather belt. A dark brown leather wrap holds his wand to his right forearm securely and he'll choose one or the other only when appropriate, but he will choose accordingly every time. He will not flash a gun at magic, nor magic at a muggle threat.

It's just the way things have to be.

It's raining, but that isn't strange though it is something he knows she doesn't like.

She, is something entirely different from his everyday. For one, she doesn't live here, she lives in America where the sky is all sun instead of all water and clouds. She says she's luckier and he agrees, but he's adjusted to the English weather because it's been his entire life. The times he's gone to her, the air was hot and made him feel as though he was a hardening sponge. It was very dry and rather uncomfortable... Still... Clear skies were far better than constant dampness, and warmth was better than snow. She was luckier in this aspect of life, though, he would never live where she is if given the chance.

He sits alone in a black leather seat that's mounted into a chrome colored frame with a table before him and a empty matching booth in front of him. A midnight diner with a name that doesn't even matter enough to change the lightbulbs regularly on the front sign. Set in a silver tube with large windows and red trim, he looks to one side; out the window he sits beside and watches running city street that continues with a pulse day and night with only a few hours of slowness in the total 24 hours. That slow time is not now, now, there are clubs open and Severus is not alone though knows none of the other patrons around him. It's the opposite setting of what he would choose. If given the option he would have chosen a more unknown diner much later into the night. But he didn't choose. She did. He had argued, though obviously not well enough because here he was. Alone. Glancing out the window at the damp, nightlife city of passing cars, flashing road signs, laughing people and everything else a club center would entail. A younger crowd, a crowd of his age. Very early 20's.

He's a cocky young man, though a recluse even now. His straight black hair hangs down over his face in layers and falls past his shirt collar in spiky stands. He'd dressed far to proper for this setting and only now does he realize it. She won't be dressed like this... Like a... Malfoy....

Suddenly repulsed, he looks away from the window where his eyes have focused on his reflection and he begins his move from his seat and towards the restroom. A change with magic would be easy, but not something he could do here out in the open, nor something he would want her catching him doing.

He's up and as he travels down the laminated tile floor to the left he passes many other booths like his and to his right, he passes a bar that overlooks the kitchen. The booths and twirly seats are mainly occupied but as he arrives to the restroom door that's past it all and around a corner. He's both relieved that the room is empty and that as far as he could see, she had yet to arrive.

He'd stand in the full length mirror that hangs against the far wall and he unbuttons his shirt cuff with ease before slipping out his wand. He looks himself over. Wax leather shoes, pinstripe trousers and an overcoat over his form fit and buttoned vest and tie... He looked like a Malfoy which he never had an issue with unless he was in these moments. He starts with his head and moves the tip of the wand down. Layers, layers that stuck up, layers that were green and layers of hair that dropped to the middle of his neck. His wand uncovers a tattoo on his face that he hides nearly every other day of his life day and will be more than ever in the months to come. It's a small tattoo of a small black x under his right eye by his nose. It's a line that means little to the those who don't know it's significance, but in the drug and club scene it's a marking of power and influence. He doesn't regret the tattoo, he hides it because it's easier than exposing himself and that world no one else needs to know about. More than half of this suit was paid for by that tattoo which was also very Malfoy of him indeed.