#snapetober 2022

[sneverussape]

draco and lacewing flies.

—

snapetober 2022 - potions brewing

[cerise-grenadine]

Drawn for Snapetober 2022, painted Jan.24

12. Cup of tea

A cosy evening in Severus's quarters at Hogwarts, 1995-96.

this isn't Lily btw.

[thetalesofprince]

The robes around his body were tight. He like them that way.

Even the time needed to undo all the buttons made him feel safe. His body protected the same as his mind.

Both hidden from any prying eyes. His own personal walls. Walls behind which he liked to duck, when threatened.

No one can know.

Snapetober Day 15: Defensive

[myobscureimaginarium]

Professor Snape always told himself he'd never be one of the foolish, shallow dunderheads more concerned with their looks than their brains. He'd come to terms with his less-than-alluring appearance, neglected teeth included, early on in life, and decided to focus on what really mattered - knowledge.

But even if he liked to think himself above vanity-induced low self-esteem… he still dreaded the yearly Picture Day.

[momo-t-daye]

Severus is fifty pounds of trouble (and fun facts about gruesome topics) in a five pound bag.  Lucius developed a highly tuned “dad-sense” years before Draco was born.  He also developed quite a few gray hairs from the stress (but those are easy to hide when your hair starts out as nearly white).

Let me know if anything is illegible! 

A combination of prompts “Intervention” and “The Dark Lord” from @sxvxrxssnape‘s 2022 Snapetober Prompt List along with the prompt provided by @guljerry et al. (discord server) “Severus and the Malfoys having a fall themed party”.

[ofnightsndsongs]

10. Assassination Attempt

[sxvxrxssnape]

 💚🖤 snapetober 2022 🖤💚

dearest sniends and snovers! connoisseurs of all things snape! the time has come again to celebrate our favorite potion’s master via the annual angsty and whump-heavy prompt list 🖤

like always, prompts are open to interpretation! that means you can take it in whatever direction feels right to you and so long as it touches the prompt in some way, you are doing it correctly! technically speaking, your beautiful contributions don’t even need to be angsty if you’d prefer to take a more lighthearted spin on the prompt. this year’s list is primarily angsty, but there are a few softer prompts (bolded) to act as a short break from the heavy content (and a bonus for november 1st, if you’d like to wrap up on a lighter note)

you can create for as many as you want; just pick and choose to your heart’s content. contributions can be anything - fic (any length, pov, au, or featuring characters), drabbles, art (any style or level of effort), gif sets, headcanon posts, plot bunnies you can’t be bothered to hash out, dialogue blurbs, moodboards, etc. there is also no true deadline! start early, post late, do the snapetober prompt list from 2020 instead. just keep it snape-centric (doesn’t even have to be his pov or have the angst directed at him; yk im always down bad for protective snape)

recycled prompts continue to give you a peek into my psyche bc i cant seem to let certain things go 😅 

Nightfall

Cemetery

Hidden Injury

Full Moon

Nightmares

Potion Brewing

Overthinking

Reconciliation

Burn

Assassination Attempt

Anxiety

Cup of Tea

Fate

Inferius

Defensive

Neglect

Dessert

Midnight (Sleeplessness)

Intervention

The Dark Lord

Solemn

Book/Reading

Defeat

Purpose (or Lack of)

Dread

(Unwelcome) Touch

Gentle Touch

Weak

Break Down

Anger

Last Words/Thoughts

November 1st Bonus: Perseverance 

remember to tag #snapetober or #snapetober2022 (you can also tag me or @snapetober) and happy snape’ing!

[ironborealis]

#2

The other teachers had warned her about the Snape boy. There was something not quite right with the boy, even if no one could put their finger on what exactly was wrong.

He daydreamed. He asked too many questions in class. He was prone to flights of fancy. He took everything you said too literally. His homework would either be on time or complete but never both. He passed every exam. His failure to understand basic concepts meant he ought to have been held back a year. He was already socially stunted without being held back. The boy only had make-believe friends to ostracize him, so what would it have mattered if he'd repeated a year? Was it not punishment enough to have to try and teach him for one year, now you want to add another year to my sentence?

She was younger and maybe didn't know as much as her peers. She certainly saw what they saw, but there were also glimpses of something more. Once she saw his scores on the pre-test for the Eleven-Plus exam she thought she had the answer.

Underneath his unkempt exterior was a exceptional mind. Snape had put up the top score on the pre-test for his entire year, not just his class. His brilliance explained so much of what was wrong with the boy -- the late homework, the daydreaming, the lack of friends.

Given the strength of his creative writing she wondered if she wasn't mentoring the next Lewis or Tolkien.

She'd been so ecstatic about his results that she'd held him back after class to tell him the good news. That with his scores he could go on scholarship to one of the better public schools and from there maybe to Oxford or Cambridge. He'd have to work on his study habits and how to pay attention in class but she'd help him with that if he wanted to do more than work in the mill.

He'd shrugged and said that his mother had made plans to send him off for his schooling, but he couldn't recall where.

Perhaps there was a rich great aunt willing to put in a good word for him to an admissions board... but that seemed unlikely, given the type of people who lived in Cokeworth.

She just wasn't getting through to the boy. Despite his brilliance he was still just turned eleven. He could hardly be expected to understand the magnitude of the opportunity in front of him, waiting for him to grasp it.

She'd decided a chat with his mother was in order and sent him home with a note asking her to come speak with her. A note that went unanswered, even though the boy swore he'd given it to her. After several ignored notes she'd pinned one to the boy's jacket, only for him to return the next day with the note still attached to his collar.

She'd pulled his student file in exasperation and was shocked to see that not only did his family not have telephone, but the address was still over in Spinner's End. There'd been a big to-do in the paper a year ago about the last residents of the neighborhood moving into the new council estates. The neighborhood now was just another cemetery monument to Cokeworth's shortlived glory during the Industrial Revolution, before cheap cotton and cheaper labor from India and the Americas had destroyed the market. No one should still be living there, but the boy would give her no other answer when pressed about where his family was living now.

She intended several times to march down there and ask Mrs. Snape just what she thought she was doing ignoring her notes, raising her son in such a place, didn't this woman know that she was trying to help. Every time she tried something turned her off from it. She was afraid of being there after dark, her heel broke, and one time she'd been bizarrely certain that she'd left the gas on in her apartment even though she had an electric cooktop.

In the end she'd been forced to concede defeat when despite his scores on the Eleven-Plus no school bothered to request his records. They'd gone in the box to head back to the council administration offices along with the records on all the other children who'd disappeared without a trace.

[snapeaddict]

Snapetober day 15 - Defensive

@mmad-lover you made me nostalgic what have you done

-

Albus looked up. It was night; he had gotten rid of his glasses long ago and now the full moon, as if to tease him, was blinding him completely. That was quite impertinent. He had still a lot more to write, and such bright lighting would not do - the glimmer of candles in the dark had been giving him headaches, and he suddenly felt a strong, almost compulsive desire to shout at both candles and moon. The sleeping portaits around him surely would have been surprised, not because talking to inanimate objects was in the slightest out of character for the old headmaster, but because he never shouted.

Merlin. How long had he been sitting here? Three days? A week? He had slept, yes - but on the couch. He had occasionally been out - but that must have been days ago. He had eaten - again, on the couch. He chuckled. 'Working with the ministry is turning me into an adolescent boy' he thought.

Mentally thanking the moon for reminding him of the existence of the outside world, he checked the wall-clock, and, as it was only nine in the evening, headed out to the staffroom. As he expected, Severus and Minerva were there, sitting in their usual dark-green armchairs by the fireplace. Both had a glass in one hand - surely one of Minerva's Highlands whiskeys - and Albus noticed that Severus' fingers were stained with dark ink. It was not unusual, but he knew that the boy always carefully washed his hands on school days, and it was only at the weekend that he indulged in what Minerva called his 'mad scientist episodes' - basically, research over boiling cauldrons with notes taken in between 'small' commotions. So it was the weekend! He had barely seen them in a week.

Minerva raised an eyebrow.

'Well, look who is here. It seems that - wait, the bat metaphora is taken already. Ah, yes, I have got it: it looks like the mole is out of its hole.'

'You mean that the bear is out of its cave, Minerva', Severus said nonchalantly without looking at the headmaster.

She nodded thoughtfully at this witticism.

'Indeed. Moles are not known for their bad temper. Bears waking up, however...'

Looking half-apologetic, half-amused, Albus took a sit between the two of them, glancing at Severus in his usual paternal way. But the boy busied himself with the essay that was lying on his knees.

'I know, I know, I owe you both an apology. I have been terribly busy, this has made me quite... Irritable. And forgetful. I do not even know whether it is Saturday or Sunday. But surely you can forgive this old man? Come, I am fully ready to discuss anything you like tonight. Severus, you can complain to me about Harry - Minerva, you can complain to me about Severus.

Minerva tried hard not to laugh, and to this effect affected disdain again. Severus gave her an amused glance.

'Surely you have better things to do with your evening? Severus and I merely gossip - or we fight - we shout, sometimes - really, nothing of your calibre.'

Albus suddenly remembered an evening, perhaps four days ago, when he had rather coldly explained to his colleague that he was busy with matters of the upmost importance and had no time for a game of chess with her - game of chess which he himself had requested the week before. He might have been the most gifted wizard in his generation, he felt quite like a foolish schoolboy at this moment - and Minerva's piercing gaze, evidently, was not helping.

'I suppose I deserve that. Again, I beg for your forgiveness' he said humbly.

It was Minerva's turn to look at Severus, who had been awfully quiet since Albus had entered the room. Truth is, he had been much vexed by the headmaster's behaviour these last few days: he had not said a word on the subject, but she knew him well enough to know when he was irritated and tried to hide it. It was not hard to spot, as usually, when something annoyed Severus, he let you know, but he had not talked about the headmaster in a week. And it had been an important week: his latest paper had been accepted for publication, and he had been granted additional funds for his ongoing research. They had been celebrating when Albus had come in and, Minerva could tell, the Slytherin was definitly hurt that Albus had so easily forgotten about this week's important events. She was certain that if the headmaster did not remember to ask, he would not say a word on the subject.

At the very same moment Albus was thinking that Severus unquestionably looked as if he was mad at him, but he could not figure out why, and was very surprised that the boy should be the one giving him the silent treatment. Did Severus care about his own attitude towards him? Had his absence... Affected him? He looked at Minerva, silently begging for her help.

She smiled to him warmly and poured him a glass of whisky, a sign that all alleged hostility between the two of them was definitly over.

'I forgive you, Albus. I know Fudge is a irksome. I'd rather volunteer for a hundred detention hours with first years than have to send him back his dull reports. But you are not the only one who had an eventful week', she added, glancing suggestively at Severus. Would he...

Ah, there it was, the sudden enlightenment in his eyes.

'Severus!' Albus exclaimed. 'By Merlin's beard, your paper! And the funds! You needed my signature for something - I was so busy - I am so sorry. Do you have news? Is there anything I can do?'

It was Severus' turn to affect indifference, though to those who knew him best, it was clear that he was hesitating between giving the headmaster a look of satisfaction, or rolling his eyes.

'You need not apologise, headmaster', he said coolly. 'You have priorities, that is perfectly understandable.'

'No, you are mad, that is perfectly understandable my boy. I know you needed my signature for the funds, about your lab. I will write to the academy'.

This time, the Potions master looked defensive.

'I have told you, Albus, it is of no importance.'

'You are mad.'

'I most certainly am not'.

Albus opened his mouth to reply, glanced at Minerva who looked at him knowingly, and fell silent. Hidding a smile, he took a sip from his drink, settling comfortably in his chair.

So Severus was mad - Severus was mad he had not talked to him in a week, Severus was mad he had not wished to discuss the news with him last Monday, Severus was mad he had not come to ask him about his paper. The boy had missed him. Albus felt a sweet, pleasant warmth fill his chest, and the large smile on his face seemed to annoy Severus even more.

'Your paper was accepted, wasn't it?'

'Yes.'

His smile grew even larger, if that were even humanly possible.

'My boy, I am so proud of you. Between us I had no doubt it would be. They have never refused any of your papers - this one certainly is daring, they can be quite conservative, but it was too brilliant even for their prejudices.'

'Indeed'.

'I will write to the academy tonight, I'll explain. I am sure I can do something about the funds' he added in a purposive tone.

Severus smirked and took a sip of his own glass. It was his turn to look amused.

'No need, headmaster. I already got the funds'.

Albus gave him a puzzled look. 'Really? But how? I thought you needed my signature'.

'Yes. Minerva helped me fake it.'

'You what?'

This time, both he and Minerva smirked.

@sxvxrxssnape

[gertrudepetronella-blog]

Venison

This is an odd little short story. Not entirely sure how to rate it. SFW but sort of dark humour type thing. Implied character death. Not going to give specific content warning, because I don't want to spoil it (though the title sort of gives it away). Not for the very squeamish perhaps, but nothing too bad.

TBH I had this idea a couple weeks ago, but I think it fits well with the snapetober prompt #4 Full Moon :)

Set in Marauders era around 5th/6th year. Less than 1k.

‘Evening Moony.’ Sirius grins, hopping over the bench and plonking himself between his two friends. ‘Wormtail.’ He pats the smaller boy on the back.

‘You know I don’t really like that nickname.’ Peter mutters quietly.

‘Nobody likes Sirius’ nicknames.’ Remus comments. ‘But it looks like we’re stuck with them now.’ Thanks to that infernal bloody map. He does not add.

They had said it was just for sneaking out to help Remus on the full moon, which had seemed a very kind and noble thing to do, at least from Remus’ perspective. But then of course both James and Sirius insisted that they “test” the map out by using it to spy on Lily and hunt down Snape.

‘You’re looking better.’ Sirius says then, seeming genuinely caring of Remus’ physical state, and any notion of thinking bad of him is whisked away.

‘Yes thanks.’ Remus smiles back.

‘Where’s James though, gone to try it on with Lily again?’ Sirius rolls his eyes.

‘I haven’t seen him.’ Remus shrugs.

‘Oh, we thought he must be with you?’ Sirius frowns. ‘We haven’t seen him all day have we Peter?’

‘Hmm. That’s odd.’ Remus comments, though he is rather more bothered about when the food is going to appear, he’s bloody starving.

‘Are you sure you haven’t seen him at all?’ Sirius presses. ‘I hope he got back alright last night.’

‘Didn’t you all come back together?’

‘No…’ Sirius bites his lip. ‘We… sort of got separated.’ He admits.

‘All of us?’ Remus scowls, suddenly much more invested in the conversation.

Sirius just shrugs and gives him those puppy dog eyes.

‘The only reason I agreed to this is that you’re supposed to keep an eye on me… it… the wolf.’ Remus drops his voice to a whisper.

‘Don’t worry Moony it happens all the time and you haven’t eaten anyone yet!’ Sirius jokes.

‘That’s not funny Sirius.’ Remus bites out. ‘It’s dangerous, this is life and death, I thought you’d learned your lesson…’

Their argument is interrupted by Hagrid’s hearty laugh booming across the hall, and they all turn around.

‘Oh, perhaps I’ll ask Hagrid if he’s seen Prongs…’ Sirius starts, but then they all stop and stare as the source of the gamekeeper’s laughter is revealed to be none other than Severus Snape. And it wasn’t in a laughing at him sort of way; the two seemed to be enjoying a rather jovial conversation.

‘What the…’ Sirius trails off.

Hagrid and Snape are gesticulating wildly, frowning nodding, smiling, and laughing.

‘Snape’s been helping him with the creatures and that.’ Remus comments, turning back to the table as the food has just appeared.

It is a delicious looking roast of red meat, roast potatoes, cabbage, carrots, and Yorkshire puddings. Remus digs in immediately, shoving a whole roast potato in his mouth, whilst simultaneously pouring gravy over everything on his plate.

‘Since when was Snivellus into magical creatures? He doesn’t even take that class.’ Sirius mutters, slowly turning around. Peter is making quick work of his dinner too, and Sirius starts cutting up his food at a more sedate pace.

‘I think they’ve been going in the forest together.’ Remus says around a mouthful of food. ‘I guess he gets potions ingredients in exchange for helping out.’

‘Well that makes more sense.’ Sirius shrugs. ‘Mmm. This is good.’ He says. ‘What meat is this?’

Remus suddenly stops chewing. In the back of his mind he’d been wondering too. It’s something he’d not had for a while, though he wasn’t sure why, and then it hits him.

‘Oh Merlin.’ He mumbles, looking down at his plate. The meat is pinker than beef, it has a denser texture, and a distinctive earthy flavour. He drops his knife and fork suddenly having lost his appetite.

‘Venison.’ He states.

Looking around the room not everyone has the red meat. Most of the other students seem to have chicken, though he can see both Dumbledore and McGonagall seem to also have Venison.

‘Hmm, what’s that again? It’s rather good isn’t it?’ Sirius comments, taking another bite.

‘No…’ Remus can only rasp. Peter has stopped eating too, and is looking very pale.

‘What?’ Sirius looks between his two friends. ‘What’s wrong with… oh.’

The realisation hits him like a brick, or a cauldron, or perhaps the engine of the Hogwarts Express.

Deer. That’s what Venison is. He turns around slowly, the room almost spinning as the bile rises in his throat.

Across the room Severus Snape is now sitting at the Slytherin table grinning at them. He is in the last place at the end, and next to him on the table is a quiver of arrows and a longbow. Sirius watches in horror as Snape lifts his fork, a dark pink slice of meat speared on the end. Snape gives them a little nod, then pops the venison into his mouth.

He chews slowly smiling at them the whole time.

[sneverussape]

“headmaster, i must insist—”

“leave it, phineas.”

“albus! really! the boy is likely to expire in the headmaster’s suite if we do nothing!”

“the castle will not let me die, you obstinate portrait. it’s merely the…stress. it will pass, it always does.”

“severus, really—you need not suffer in silence.”

“…albus. for god’s sake. shut the fuck up.”

—

snapetober 2022 - burn [out]

[cerise-grenadine]

Drawn for Snapetober 2022, painted Jan. 24

10. Assassination attempt

~19yo Severus tries to self-assassinate but is fortunately cockroachy sturdy (this is like the 3rd or 4th murder attempt in his life and apparently even he can't do a proper job at it).

(i promise he gets a lot better later)

[thetalesofprince]

He knew October was too cold for a swim.

Yet he needed it so much.

To cool down everything he felt.

To wash away his shame.

To clean his soul.

A brand new drawing I promised. Drawn in 2022.

[pommur]

My understanding is that the book with the doe is the same as the other one but could be also an expanded edition? Does anyone know?

[momo-t-daye]

Narcissa was rather dissatisfied with her letter to Lucius Malfoy.  She didn’t want dear Lucius to think of her as a callous and careless girl, but she didn’t want to alarm him unduly.  Severus would recover, Madam Pomfrey had assured them that his skin, at least, would regrow without scarring.  For his part, Severus was in an almost manic good mood (although that might have been due to being a little too high on pain potions...).

‘Do not fret, Severus merely burnt his face off in the name of thrift’, was a bit too perfunctory.

She knew, vaguely, that thrift was supposedly commendable.  At least, it was commendable in those who couldn’t afford anything better, like the current Weasley generation.  One mustn’t be a miser like dear old Muriel Prewett, after all.  She felt slightly guilty in finding Severus’ dedication to thrift as alarming rather than admirable.

“So, you see, Lily, I have finally SOLVED the problem of unwanted facial hair! Even after my skin regrows, I shall never have to purchase a razor again and the time I save, that would otherwise be wasted by Sisyphean shaving, shall accumulate rapidly and be put to intellectual pursuits instead!”

Madam Pomfrey really must’ve prescribed something too powerful.

Lily, who did not take kindly to anyone hurting her best friend (up to and very much including said best friend) took a deep breath and Narcissa realized her correspondences would need to wait for a quieter moment.

From @sxvxrxssnape‘s 2022 Snapetober Prompt List (here), Day 9 prompt: “Burn”.

Lily’s hair was the most fun and the bandages on Sev’s face were the most annoying thing to draw on this one!

[snevans-is-my-life-source-always]

✨Snaptober✨ This was originally just supposed to be anxiety, but this accidentally falls in like 10 different categories. Keep reading for the hand symbolism.

Hand/arm around head-any Marauder or Worlds Worst Father

Freckled-Lily

Hand around Lily’s-Sev’s

Gray-Voldemort’s

Shushing one-the “personification” of both the Death Eaters’ and the Order’s secrets and how they have to be hushy-hush

A terrible attempt at two hands choking him-any Marauder or Worlds Worst Father