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Bad Company, August: Temptation

Bad Company, August: Temptation

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sherlock.  not good?

Severus believed.

It would be all that he ever wanted. Since he was boy he had only had one ambition. His Dark Lord has promised. There will be a new world. And in that world everything will be ordered, everything will be correct. Severus sees it as perfect. Those who deserve it will have everything. They will have not just dominion but stewardship.

And his Dark Lord has promised something else that Severus holds close to his chest, precious and shining. It is purpose, a goal. It comforts him through all the violence, scorn, all the social and psychic attacks. He promised himself when he had been very young - so young he could not remember the moment, and his memory was prodigious.

He would be great. He would change the world, scoring it with his own indelible deep mark. He would be remembered. When students parade through the years, their History of Magic textbooks fresh before them, new to school, new to magic, his name would be spoken as inspiration and hope, as example of what one could do with brilliance and diligence. And they would hear his name, think of him, and their fresh minds, their creativity and hope and potential would soar and expand, and they would change the world, in their turn, to ever greater magic.

And his Dark Lord promised him a chance. He was brilliant, and he was diligent. His parents and home would have been crippling to someone with less tenacious ambition. They had ruined his blood. There was no money, no entry into the network of influential connection of old families, old debts and allegiances, old mutual tradition and pride. They had denied him a knowledge of even its trappings - grace, manners, languages, the feel of physical things they took for granted. Nutritious, attractively prepared food on clean uncracked bone china, old wood oiled by decades - centuries - of pureblood fingering, the taste of silver polished, smooth cloth. He did not know how to speak politely, to move and in counterpoint to others, when to demand and when to serve. His parents had taken his future from him.

So he had clutched his little promise, imagined it bright enough to light his room, his face, his soul. He had nourished it, fed it, worked for it with all his being. Until the Dark Lord had offered back his future, brilliant as he had always known it would be. He had offered fulfillment of all Severus' hungry potential. Recognised it. Needed it. And all Severus' work, on dark curses, on potions, on spells and silent magic had place, value. It was the course, the aim of his life - everything he had always been strove towards that glimmer of success. It was everything. The beginning of his hope had been Slytherin and his companions, where even with only half a heritage, he had belonged for his skill and predilections. The Dark Lord's approval had confirmed it.

He had a chance! A chance to be proud, to be useful, to live.

But there was a girl, her green eyes laughing - even into his - with excitement, when she discovered magic, when she saw a glimpse of the wide infinity of possibility. But there was a girl, her hand warm on his arm. And Severus, when he thought of her, could dream of being understood, wanted, with appreciation and warm humanity. He dared to think he could be welcomed always, that he could give, that he could become better, learn social grace from her gently. He dared to think he might be loved even, because he loved, because he would learn to show love, without fear. He could dream of a different future where he had a place, not from what he could do but because he had his own soul.

Severus did not succumb.

Severus believed.

Name: Severus Snape
Fandom: Harry Potter
Words: 697
Age: 15
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