There was a very significant change to chapter 8: We finally get to see a bit of Snape’s point of view. Originally, when I first wrote this story, I swore to myself that there would be no Snape POV. I was afraid it would give too much away. I wanted Snape’s actions and reactions to remain a surprise, and I felt that letting you all in on his private thoughts concerning the whole matter would jeopardise the surprise. But I constantly got requests for Snape’s POV. So I had to learn to write a Snape POV that was satisfying, that let the reader feel as though they were gaining some insight into his persona, without giving anything away. Which sounds easier than it is, for me at any rate.
The main concern I had was that once I wrote his POV, I wouldn’t be able to stop. And that was partly true. I keep trying to fit his POV in to more and more chapters. I love writing this Snape. He’s sarcastic and scathing, utterly Slytherin, and a lot of fun to write. I have a lot of ideas and thoughts concerning my Snape, and many of them don’t mesh perfectly with canon. However, I am able to explore these thoughts fully in this story, which is quite addicting, really.
I don’t want to give anything away, but I’ll give you a brief peek into my Snape’s persona. As I said, he’s scathing and sarcastic. But he doesn’t do it to be funny. He doesn’t do it to be mean, or witty, or because he’s a Slytherin. That’s just how he thinks. The fact that some people find his sarcastic wit funny puzzles him, because as I said, he doesn’t do it to be funny. That’s purely him. He’s also purely Slytherin. I have a very interesting take on the whole Slytherin persona.
For me, Slytherins are the ultimate pragmatist. They can be practical to the point of ruthlessness, though to them, they both mean the same thing. For my Slytherins, ninety percent of the time, the ends do justify the means. Why are many Slytherins bisexual? Because they’re equal opportunity lovers. Having sex with both males and females gives them twice as many partners to choose from. Slytherins see the grey in every situation. There is no only black or only white, nothing is either purely right or purely wrong, ultimately good or ultimately evil. They’re ambitious, of course. They aspire to high positions. For money, for power, for connections, yes, but mostly to prove it to themselves and others. The challenge is what they relish. The chance to show others, look what I can do. Look what I have. Look at me.
Yes, Slytherins will use you if they need to. From a Slytherin perspective, if you’re weak enough to be used, that’s not their problem. Yes, they can be sneaky. Yes, they can be cunning. But those aren’t bad things, in and of themselves.
Slytherins are opportunists, pure and simple. Why did Lucius defect to the side of the Order? Because they were obviously going to win. Self-preservation ranks high on the list of Slytherin needs. Another reason he defected was because of his pride. The Malfoy line is an ancient and pure family. He would not tolerate being used by a Dark Lord who was less than himself. He would not tolerate being a lackey, and Lucius was smart enough to realize that Voldemort didn’t have followers, he had slaves. And no Malfoy would ever stoop so low. Least of all him.
So, what makes a Slytherin? Self-preservation, pragmatism, pride, cunning, ambition, and the ability to see all the many shades of grey. In the end, Slytherins don’t care for right or wrong, for good or bad. They care for themselves most of all. To be a Slytherin is practically to be family. They are fiercely loyal to their own, so long as the Slytherin in question is fit to be called a Slytherin. And that, readers, is what my Slytherins are made of. Not all of them, of course. And not all of them will feel all of the above. But hopefully, this may give you some insights in to my favourite playmates of all: the Slytherins.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Notes: Chapter Seven
There are a couple big changes in chapter seven, things that make it more obvious that Snape is going to get revenge. But first, the minor changes.
“This…I hesitate to call it your paper, since it’s on…amethyst coloured parchment,” he unrolled the parchment, grimacing with distaste, “with little hearts all over it.” He stopped, shook his head as if to clear it, tightly shut his eyes, then looked at her paper again. “It’s still there. Why is your paper on coloured parchment covered with hearts?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft.
I just loved the thought of Snape being handed this ridiculously girly parchment that he would be forced to come in contact with in order to grade. I still laugh at the thought of Snape shaking his head as if to clear it, tightly shutting his eyes, then looking to see if her paper is still there. This was one of those scenes that I can see so clearly in my head. It’s not the best, or the funniest, but it’s still, even after all this time, so vivid. I can absolutely picture Snape sitting there, wondering what the hell had possessed the stupid Gryffindor to turn in her paper on such parchment. I also imagined him wondering why such paper was even produced and what sort of horrid establishment would have the gall to sell such rubbish.
“I ran out of—”
He cut her off by saying, in an incredulous tone, “Is it scented as well?”
I can also clearly picture him asking if it’s scented. I can just see his face, this wonderful mixture of outrage, disbelief, and surprise that they even produced scented paper.
“Sir,” Harry began, his leg shaking from nerves, “Hermione just ran out of parchment, and then had to borrow some of Lavender’s. She didn’t do it to purposely get to you, or whatever it was you were rant–erm, saying,” he cut himself off before he could accuse Snape of ranting like a lunatic.
In the original, Harry didn’t almost accuse Snape of ranting like a lunatic. But I realized that Harry was probably the most likely to do so in that situation.
Lavender silently congratulated on her improvisation. She had never been terribly good at thinking on her feet, especially when confronted by Snape.
I’m not a big fan of cannon Lavender, but I thought that maybe I could make her a bit more than a bimbo who was once in love with Ron, of all people. And I like to think I did an okay job. I like to think that this Lavender has a bit more substance, a bit more flair. She’s no Hermione, but then, she doesn’t want to be. Being Hermione is very hard work, and Lavender likes fun. That doesn’t necessarily make her brainless, or only concerned with silly things such as makeup and clothing and boys. Yes, she likes those things. But they aren’t her life.
The only major changes to the chapter are the following:
She remained seated as Snape paced back in forth in front of her desk. She wasn’t sure why he had detained her. Would he deduct points? Give her detention? Threaten her, yet again, with expulsion? She watched him pace; four steps one way, pivot, four steps the opposite way, repeat. His hands were clasped behind his back, his head bent, a look of deep concentration upon his face. He didn’t look angry, exactly, but he certainly didn’t look any less imposing for that fact.
He stopped abruptly, his head turning sharply to stare at her, his face unreadable. She raised her chin, meeting his gaze. It was small comfort that he had claimed she would know if he used his Legilimency against her; she might know if he was using it, but she had no defence against it. Yet, she sensed nothing, no foreign presence in her mind, so remained quiet, continuing to meet his gaze.
As I’ve said before, I really don’t quite understand how Legilimancy works. But I’ve decided that Snape can’t perform real, intrusive Legilimancy without the victim being aware of it, much as Harry was in Phoenix. In this fic, the most he can do undetected is skim the surface of emotions, not unlike an empath, just to sort of read what emotion someone is experiencing.
“You have no idea what you’re playing at, Miss Granger.” She almost jumped, his voice came so suddenly, sounding louder in the silence of the room. She continued to meet his gaze, though her neck was starting to hurt from the awkward angle. Snape seemed a lot taller when he was standing and she was sitting.
“Whatever do you mean, sir?”
“Do not play the innocent with me. Deny it all you want, but cease with this act.” His voice was low and stern, but not harsh. She did not know how to react, so she merely said nothing.
“I am not as oblivious as you would like to think, Miss Granger,” he said. “I have deduced that there is some sort of contest or bet; that it concerns me is no big secret. I do not know why, though I can hazard a guess. I am, after all, the resident greasy git; who better to play such childish pranks on?” he asked. She felt momentarily ashamed to know that he was aware of his nickname amongst the students; how awful, she thought, to know just how disliked you truly were.
“But I will give you this last warning, Miss Granger,” he said, his voice low and even, leaning down, his hands gripping the sides of her desk, until his face was level with hers. “Continue with these little games and I will be forced to retaliate. I could lie, and say that I would not find that pleasant, but the truth is this: I would find it pleasant indeed. Whether you would be of the same opinion, however, is doubtful.”
She stared at him, his face inches from hers, and could read the truth of his words in his eyes. She knew he meant what he said and though the thought should have scared her, it did not. A small part of her, perhaps, but most of her saw the challenge. There was no one her own age who challenged her. Yet here was the chance to match wits with a Slytherin, a man older and more powerful than she. Such a thing would be dangerous and scary and everything she knew should not tempt her, but did. The thought was terrifying yet she could not deny the allure. In the end, she gave into the temptation.
“Well, Miss Granger?” he asked, moving a fraction of an inch closer to her. His eyes were on level with hers, his face a breath away. The incongruous thought that, should anyone walk into the dungeon at that moment, they surely would think Snape was about to kiss her, briefly crossed her mind.
I’m a Snape/Hermione shipper at heart. What can I say?? I think this bit ups the tension a little. Whether that tension is sexual or otherwise remains to be seen.
“Why bother warning me?” she asked, the knowledge that she had already accepted his challenge making her bold. “Why not just give me detention and be done with it?”
“That is none of your concern. But I can see that you have not changed your mind. So be it.” He straightened, glaring down his nose at her. “Do not say later that I did not warn you.”
When he said nothing more, she asked, “If that is all, sir?”
“That is all. You may go, Miss Granger.”
She nodded once before standing and walking towards the door. “Until later, Professor.” Before he could respond, she was gone.
Hermione found she was shaking once she exited the dungeon, though whether it was nerves, adrenaline, or both, she couldn’t say. She found it hard to believe that she had just accepted Snape’s challenge. She should have taken his warning to heart and stopped the tasks. Instead she had gone so far as to disregard his warning entirely and accept his challenge. What would the others say?
But she soon decided not to tell them. Not yet, anyway. Eventually, she would have to explain, but for now, the information was too new. She still could not believe she had found the courage to accept. Where had her bravado come from? She hadn’t been the least bit nervous; apprehensive, perhaps, but not nervous. She couldn’t imagine how she had found the nerve to stand up to Snape in such a way.
She tried to analyse her feelings towards the situation she now found herself in, but found she was unable to. She was still running on adrenaline now that the whole thing was over, making her want to giggle nervously and dance joyously, all at the same time. Deep down, she knew why she had accepted his proposal. She relished the chance to match wits with such a brilliant mind. It was the chance to go up against a Slytherin, to use power and cunning and all the skills at her disposal to see that she came out on top. That she would lose was almost a given; however, it was not about winning or losing. It all came down to the challenge.
There were no boys her age–and at that age, that’s exactly what they all were, boys–capable of such a thing. The very thought that Ron or Harry could go up against her was laughable. They had their strengths, but they did not concern wit or logic. Snape, however, was not a boy. He was a man, and a powerful one at that. That he was a Slytherin made the whole thing more appealing; she supposed it was the natural Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry coming into play. Snape, she knew, would not disappoint. A challenge he had promised and a challenge she would get.
Again, this is more to make the point that Snape has laid down a challenge and Hermione has accepted said challenge. This gives a little insight as to why she accepted. Also, it is something that can be built on later, should I decide to turn this into a romance, but that isn’t indicative of romance on its own.
Though she knew she should be anxious or scared of what he might do, she could not bring herself to get over her excitement. Later, she would worry. Right now, she simply wanted to revel in the fact that she might just have found her match.
A sly smile upon her lips, Hermione made her way to her room. She had plenty of research to do if she wanted a chance to beat Snape at his own game.
I hope that cleared things up about the whole Hermione vs Snape challenge. The first time I posted the fic, there were quite a few people who weren’t sure whether or not there really was a challenge. Hopefully, this proves beyond a doubt that Snape did challenge her, Hermione did accept, and it is now war.
“This…I hesitate to call it your paper, since it’s on…amethyst coloured parchment,” he unrolled the parchment, grimacing with distaste, “with little hearts all over it.” He stopped, shook his head as if to clear it, tightly shut his eyes, then looked at her paper again. “It’s still there. Why is your paper on coloured parchment covered with hearts?” he asked, his voice dangerously soft.
I just loved the thought of Snape being handed this ridiculously girly parchment that he would be forced to come in contact with in order to grade. I still laugh at the thought of Snape shaking his head as if to clear it, tightly shutting his eyes, then looking to see if her paper is still there. This was one of those scenes that I can see so clearly in my head. It’s not the best, or the funniest, but it’s still, even after all this time, so vivid. I can absolutely picture Snape sitting there, wondering what the hell had possessed the stupid Gryffindor to turn in her paper on such parchment. I also imagined him wondering why such paper was even produced and what sort of horrid establishment would have the gall to sell such rubbish.
“I ran out of—”
He cut her off by saying, in an incredulous tone, “Is it scented as well?”
I can also clearly picture him asking if it’s scented. I can just see his face, this wonderful mixture of outrage, disbelief, and surprise that they even produced scented paper.
“Sir,” Harry began, his leg shaking from nerves, “Hermione just ran out of parchment, and then had to borrow some of Lavender’s. She didn’t do it to purposely get to you, or whatever it was you were rant–erm, saying,” he cut himself off before he could accuse Snape of ranting like a lunatic.
In the original, Harry didn’t almost accuse Snape of ranting like a lunatic. But I realized that Harry was probably the most likely to do so in that situation.
Lavender silently congratulated on her improvisation. She had never been terribly good at thinking on her feet, especially when confronted by Snape.
I’m not a big fan of cannon Lavender, but I thought that maybe I could make her a bit more than a bimbo who was once in love with Ron, of all people. And I like to think I did an okay job. I like to think that this Lavender has a bit more substance, a bit more flair. She’s no Hermione, but then, she doesn’t want to be. Being Hermione is very hard work, and Lavender likes fun. That doesn’t necessarily make her brainless, or only concerned with silly things such as makeup and clothing and boys. Yes, she likes those things. But they aren’t her life.
The only major changes to the chapter are the following:
She remained seated as Snape paced back in forth in front of her desk. She wasn’t sure why he had detained her. Would he deduct points? Give her detention? Threaten her, yet again, with expulsion? She watched him pace; four steps one way, pivot, four steps the opposite way, repeat. His hands were clasped behind his back, his head bent, a look of deep concentration upon his face. He didn’t look angry, exactly, but he certainly didn’t look any less imposing for that fact.
He stopped abruptly, his head turning sharply to stare at her, his face unreadable. She raised her chin, meeting his gaze. It was small comfort that he had claimed she would know if he used his Legilimency against her; she might know if he was using it, but she had no defence against it. Yet, she sensed nothing, no foreign presence in her mind, so remained quiet, continuing to meet his gaze.
As I’ve said before, I really don’t quite understand how Legilimancy works. But I’ve decided that Snape can’t perform real, intrusive Legilimancy without the victim being aware of it, much as Harry was in Phoenix. In this fic, the most he can do undetected is skim the surface of emotions, not unlike an empath, just to sort of read what emotion someone is experiencing.
“You have no idea what you’re playing at, Miss Granger.” She almost jumped, his voice came so suddenly, sounding louder in the silence of the room. She continued to meet his gaze, though her neck was starting to hurt from the awkward angle. Snape seemed a lot taller when he was standing and she was sitting.
“Whatever do you mean, sir?”
“Do not play the innocent with me. Deny it all you want, but cease with this act.” His voice was low and stern, but not harsh. She did not know how to react, so she merely said nothing.
“I am not as oblivious as you would like to think, Miss Granger,” he said. “I have deduced that there is some sort of contest or bet; that it concerns me is no big secret. I do not know why, though I can hazard a guess. I am, after all, the resident greasy git; who better to play such childish pranks on?” he asked. She felt momentarily ashamed to know that he was aware of his nickname amongst the students; how awful, she thought, to know just how disliked you truly were.
“But I will give you this last warning, Miss Granger,” he said, his voice low and even, leaning down, his hands gripping the sides of her desk, until his face was level with hers. “Continue with these little games and I will be forced to retaliate. I could lie, and say that I would not find that pleasant, but the truth is this: I would find it pleasant indeed. Whether you would be of the same opinion, however, is doubtful.”
She stared at him, his face inches from hers, and could read the truth of his words in his eyes. She knew he meant what he said and though the thought should have scared her, it did not. A small part of her, perhaps, but most of her saw the challenge. There was no one her own age who challenged her. Yet here was the chance to match wits with a Slytherin, a man older and more powerful than she. Such a thing would be dangerous and scary and everything she knew should not tempt her, but did. The thought was terrifying yet she could not deny the allure. In the end, she gave into the temptation.
“Well, Miss Granger?” he asked, moving a fraction of an inch closer to her. His eyes were on level with hers, his face a breath away. The incongruous thought that, should anyone walk into the dungeon at that moment, they surely would think Snape was about to kiss her, briefly crossed her mind.
I’m a Snape/Hermione shipper at heart. What can I say?? I think this bit ups the tension a little. Whether that tension is sexual or otherwise remains to be seen.
“Why bother warning me?” she asked, the knowledge that she had already accepted his challenge making her bold. “Why not just give me detention and be done with it?”
“That is none of your concern. But I can see that you have not changed your mind. So be it.” He straightened, glaring down his nose at her. “Do not say later that I did not warn you.”
When he said nothing more, she asked, “If that is all, sir?”
“That is all. You may go, Miss Granger.”
She nodded once before standing and walking towards the door. “Until later, Professor.” Before he could respond, she was gone.
Hermione found she was shaking once she exited the dungeon, though whether it was nerves, adrenaline, or both, she couldn’t say. She found it hard to believe that she had just accepted Snape’s challenge. She should have taken his warning to heart and stopped the tasks. Instead she had gone so far as to disregard his warning entirely and accept his challenge. What would the others say?
But she soon decided not to tell them. Not yet, anyway. Eventually, she would have to explain, but for now, the information was too new. She still could not believe she had found the courage to accept. Where had her bravado come from? She hadn’t been the least bit nervous; apprehensive, perhaps, but not nervous. She couldn’t imagine how she had found the nerve to stand up to Snape in such a way.
She tried to analyse her feelings towards the situation she now found herself in, but found she was unable to. She was still running on adrenaline now that the whole thing was over, making her want to giggle nervously and dance joyously, all at the same time. Deep down, she knew why she had accepted his proposal. She relished the chance to match wits with such a brilliant mind. It was the chance to go up against a Slytherin, to use power and cunning and all the skills at her disposal to see that she came out on top. That she would lose was almost a given; however, it was not about winning or losing. It all came down to the challenge.
There were no boys her age–and at that age, that’s exactly what they all were, boys–capable of such a thing. The very thought that Ron or Harry could go up against her was laughable. They had their strengths, but they did not concern wit or logic. Snape, however, was not a boy. He was a man, and a powerful one at that. That he was a Slytherin made the whole thing more appealing; she supposed it was the natural Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry coming into play. Snape, she knew, would not disappoint. A challenge he had promised and a challenge she would get.
Again, this is more to make the point that Snape has laid down a challenge and Hermione has accepted said challenge. This gives a little insight as to why she accepted. Also, it is something that can be built on later, should I decide to turn this into a romance, but that isn’t indicative of romance on its own.
Though she knew she should be anxious or scared of what he might do, she could not bring herself to get over her excitement. Later, she would worry. Right now, she simply wanted to revel in the fact that she might just have found her match.
A sly smile upon her lips, Hermione made her way to her room. She had plenty of research to do if she wanted a chance to beat Snape at his own game.
I hope that cleared things up about the whole Hermione vs Snape challenge. The first time I posted the fic, there were quite a few people who weren’t sure whether or not there really was a challenge. Hopefully, this proves beyond a doubt that Snape did challenge her, Hermione did accept, and it is now war.
Notes: Chapter Six
I remember when I first read the list I am now working from. Yes, every task was hilarious. Yes, every one was crazy. But very few of them made me laugh out loud. Two of the tasks in chapter six are such tasks: to accidentally call him Buzz every now and again, for no good reason and to sneak up behind him. Go 'Boo!' and giggle and then walk away mumbling that you 'got him good'. I remember reading the list all those years ago and just laughing out loud at the insanity of it. Eventually, after reading some of these laugh out loud tasks, a plot bunny reared its fanged head up (yes, all my plot bunnies seem to bear fangs) and burrowed its way into my brain. Not a pretty thought, no, but that was the start of what I’d like to think was a beautiful relationship between me and my crazy little fic.
I think this was one of the chapters I changed least. All I did was clean up some grammar and typos, and add a little bulk. I really don’t have anything to add.
I think this was one of the chapters I changed least. All I did was clean up some grammar and typos, and add a little bulk. I really don’t have anything to add.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)