Seasons
Disclaimer: Severus Snape is the exclusive property of Ms. J.K. Rowling, sadly. I don't even get Alan Rickman. What's with that? Any one else who claims to own her loverly characters is very much mistaken. I am not J.K. Rowling. This said, I don't own them. In fact, I really own nothing of value and I'm making no money at all from this. So it really would be silly to sue me, don't you think?
Warning: The girl Snape is talking about is an original character, Emilia, who first appeared briefly in "A Typical Winter's Day". Mildly Mary Sue. So if, like most (including me), you don't really like Mary Sues, don't read this. If you choose to ignore this and read it anyway please don't flame me. (I'll say it again, folks, constructive criticism.) If you flame me don't be surprised when I laugh in your face. Thanks!
Seasons
When he'd first met her she'd reminded him of Spring. His own cool bit of sunshine and sparkling life, and he never knew why she'd been given to him, why she was in his life, what she saw that kept her there. She'd had strawberry blonde hair then. And her eyes were the vivid pale green of a young leaf. The cool Ravenclaw blue suited her perfectly.
By the end of second year she had bloomed into summer, and she was so full of heat and life and energy that it scared him, sometimes. Still his own ray of sun, but now so intense that he burned easily. Her hair had darkened to bright fiery red with a few lingering strawberry strands that caught the light every now and then, and for two years it was impossible to tell her apart from Lily Evans from the back except for their scarf colors. Her eyes had also transformed to a hazel that was burning with gold flecks. He understood why molten bronze accompanied the blue.
About halfway through fourth year he realized that she had darkened, mellowed, and cooled to autumn. Her hair was dark pure red, so dark it would have been auburn if there had been any brown in it at all. Instead it continued to glow with strawberry and bright red, but now it was the slow burn of embers. Her eyes had darkened, too. Mostly brown, now, with a few flecks of gold and green. The blue of the night sky was calm and subdued, the bronze the warm color of falling leaves. She was cool and crisp but also somehow warm and perfect. An invitation to hot cocoa in front of the fire and reading cuddled up on a couch. Autumn had always been his favorite season, and for a few brief shining weeks before that fateful full moon it had been within his grasp. He'd kissed her softly smiling lips once the day before the moon was truly and totally full. At the time it had seemed a promise, but in the end it was only a way of tormenting him with what he couldn't hope to keep.
He supposed he was winter, then, because she could never be as cold and faded as he was.
finis
A/N: Hope you enjoyed it. I got the idea while knitting a Ravenclaw scarf and thinking about the house colors and how much a boy I know reminds me of fall. So yeah. I sent this to my friend Pandora (author of "It's Either Your Best Friend..." part one) and her remark was "it's good, but winter isn't dark and faded." I concur. I love winter, though fall is my favorite season. It just seemed like that was how Snape would think of himself in relation to this train of thought.
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