Better stay home, and do as your told
WHO: Severus Snape and those poor sods that come over because it's January 9th, which is apparently significant for some people.
WHERE: Snape's townhouse (or around town, etc)
WHEN: January 9th
WARNINGS: Snape is his own warning.
SUMMARY: Snape has had his first post-death birthday. This is pretty big.
FORMAT: WORDS
He was thirty-nine.
Some part of him argued he had been dead, by this years count, a good fifteen years now. would in fact be be in his fifties, had he truly lived to see the year 2012 and his birthdays that follow. But he hadn't. He'd come to the City instead. This did not upset him -- being a person as opposed to a corpse sat well enough with him. So he left his home for part of the day, and went about doing things. It was strange to attempt to reconnect with normal things that normal people who did not have a war breathing down his neck.
(He does not know how to feel about Tom right now; it was not a good reminder. Not good thoughts for a birthday.)
But by the end of the day he was home again. A glass of cognac, a record on the player and dinner on the stove. It would be a good night. Even if no one came by -- though he suspected some would, and some had come by earlier -- he was certain it was the nicest birthday he'd had in years.
WHERE: Snape's townhouse (or around town, etc)
WHEN: January 9th
WARNINGS: Snape is his own warning.
SUMMARY: Snape has had his first post-death birthday. This is pretty big.
FORMAT: WORDS
He was thirty-nine.
Some part of him argued he had been dead, by this years count, a good fifteen years now. would in fact be be in his fifties, had he truly lived to see the year 2012 and his birthdays that follow. But he hadn't. He'd come to the City instead. This did not upset him -- being a person as opposed to a corpse sat well enough with him. So he left his home for part of the day, and went about doing things. It was strange to attempt to reconnect with normal things that normal people who did not have a war breathing down his neck.
(He does not know how to feel about Tom right now; it was not a good reminder. Not good thoughts for a birthday.)
But by the end of the day he was home again. A glass of cognac, a record on the player and dinner on the stove. It would be a good night. Even if no one came by -- though he suspected some would, and some had come by earlier -- he was certain it was the nicest birthday he'd had in years.