Thanks to Augurey27 for beta-ing this little story and her general help and suggestions.

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Severus hated the summer. He didn’t think he would even raise a single surprised eyebrow amongst his colleagues with that revelation. He could practically hear their murmurs. “What doesn’t he hate?” Severus snorted softly to himself.

He hated the stifling heat. He would feel disgustingly sweaty despite repeated cooling charms. Of course, he would not shed a single layer of clothing to escape the heat. Would a knight shed his body armour? He’d rather sit in his cool dungeons.

He hated the hot air, unmoving and stale. It burnt his lungs and was more than uncomfortable. He longed for a little cool breeze.

He hated how he always had to squint when he ventured outside. His eyes were more sensitive than most and living in a castle where firelight was the brightest light your eyes would encounter didn’t help either. Prolonged squinting would always bring him a headache. With a mixture of envy and disgust he would glare (not squint!) at the Muggle-born students leisurely striding over the lawns with their sunglasses.

He hated how students of all ages littered the grounds of Hogwarts. They were like ants overrunning a picnic. He had half a mind to squash or poison the little buggers.

He hated the noise they made. The voices of the youngest students were particularly migraine-inducing. High-pitched and unrestrained, they grated on his nerves. The older ones weren’t much better. They were always shouting or laughing overly loud as they gathered around the lake.

He hated how the slightest bit of exposure to the summer sun would burn his nose. It was always the first thing to burn, and it took mere minutes. Maybe it was time to invent some anti-sunburn paste. He had seen Muggle-born students using some substance for just that purpose. Even worse were the amounts of bare skin on display. All his protestations against such inappropriate behaviour had been laughed off by the rest of the staff. They clearly thought him odd. Always had. So with a familiar mixture of envy and disgust, he had watched male students pouring said substance over their female, half naked partners as they cavorted by the lake.

Most of his colleagues had known him since he came to Hogwarts and were resigned to the many annoying habits and oddities that were Severus Snape. And his absolute dislike for summer and sunny days, it was just another quirk of the man who had been different since birth. As usual they just laughed about his quirks or ignored them, and him, as much as possible and generally just kept away. To them, he was a man that hated everything just for the sake of it. It hadn’t made himself very likable and his distaste for all things ‘normal’ had always kept him separated from everyone.

He had been forced to listen to their advice to ‘loosen up’ and ‘enjoy the fine weather’. He had been called both a prude and a sour curmudgeon.

Very helpful!

The only thing he could do, and enjoyed tremendously, was to deduct points whenever lips locked for too long or hands roamed where they had no place. He still elicited many dismayed squeals when he approached snogging or fondling couples; still garnered shocked and guilty expressions when he managed to sneak up on them.

The only drawbacks were the snickers his sunburned nose elicited when they thought he was out of hearing range. Further point reduction reduced the sting of humiliation quite nicely.

Thankfully, Scottish summers didn’t last long.

By the time September had approached the sun was only rarely making an appearance. These rare moments attracted students and staff alike, each of them trying to soak up the last rays of sunshine, hoping it would tide them over until next year.

Much to Severus’ delight, the temperatures were far too low for swimming or prancing about in nothing but swimming costumes. Now most people were just out for walks or milling around the Quidditch pitch. It was an improvement to the weeks before, but Severus still preferred the solitude of his dungeons, as he found the grounds far too crowded.

At the end of September, the summer days were finally over. Days were getting shorter and the sun had given in to the inevitable and let the clouds take over. Less and less people were found on the grounds.

It was a Friday, when a cool breeze and an overcast sky greeted the Hogwarts residents. The weather seemed to be affecting everyone’s mood, and students were already listless, their faces drawn and grey like the thick layer of clouds outside.

Severus, on the other hand, felt positively content and could hardly wait for classes to end. Well, that actually was an everyday occurrence.

All throughout mealtimes he had stared longingly at the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall, which mirrored the actual weather perfectly. As soon as he had thrown the last class of the day out, he strode towards the main door. He hardly noticed how quick his strides had become and how shallow his breathing, the closer he got.

With his hand on the old, brass door handle he hesitated for a moment, willing the grounds to be empty. Anticipation made his skin tingle. Resolutely, he pushed the massive doors open by hand; the familiar sound of heavy wood grinding on sturdy hinges was music to his ears.

He stood in the doorway, his eyes scanning the vast grounds. With relief he saw not a single soul anywhere. He was elated, and felt light on his feet as he stepped out.

The air was cool and fresh. Not too cold for his lungs, and he inhaled deeply several times as he ventured out further. The more distance he put between himself and the castle, the more he felt at ease.

His scowl vanished within a few minutes, to be replaced by a solemn, yet strangely content expression. He would never be seen smiling. This was as relaxed as he got.

He loved this weather immensely, the overcast sky mirroring his personality perfectly. It was an endless sea of grey - - uniform at first sight, but full of different shades upon closer inspection. Not beautiful for most people; only few could find beauty in the dreary atmosphere it created.

It wrapped around his senses, cocooning him like an unmoving, thick, impenetrable blanket. Robbing everything of its colour. The lack of brightness replaced by calmness. Peacefulness.

He couldn’t find this peace in the bright days of the summer. Summer wasn’t him. His personality and summer didn’t mesh. Everything was too bright, loud and… alive in the summer.

After an hour of walking, he found his favourite spot under a huge chestnut tree on the far side of the lake. Its prickly fruits appealing to him, he sank down onto the ground and dug his fingers into the cool grass.

The occasional leaf fell from the trees and swirled lazily through the air, before settling contently on the ground. The soft breeze made the trees dance, beautiful in their unsynchronised rhythm. The soft rustling was a welcome change to the harsh sounds of too many people in the school. He looked out over the lake; water rippling with the wind that caressed its surface.

The elements seemed to speak to each other and rejoice after the cloying summer, just as he did. At first, the sun had forced everything to look green and vibrant. Chlorophyll had been easily influenced. But after the first week of continued sun, it had worn everything down, sucked out their energy. The stifling heat had turned the grass brown and the ground brittle. Flowers had wilted and trees had hung their branches in defeat. The lake had been utterly still; bemoaning every single drop the sun had evaporated.

It began to rain then and Severus sighed quietly and closed his eyes. Not harsh drops, but a fine spray settled itself on everything in a fine layer. Nature had hungered for the cool moisture and the clouds gave it readily, yet gently.

Severus didn’t use any spell to protect him from the drizzle, instead he turned his head heavenwards and concentrated on the fine mist that clung to his eyelashes. After a long moment, he pressed his eyelids together more firmly. The liquid combined itself into a single drop that ran down his cheek.

He was part of nature, part of a perfect circle. Here he wasn’t rejected; wasn’t reviled. Certainly didn’t need to prove himself. His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply, inflating his lungs as far as possible. Nothing was better than the scent of wet grass. He let his palms hover over the grass, touching only the wet tips without crushing it. It was like a ritual: trying to cleanse himself, cleanse the hands that had far too much blood on them.

He jerked violently when something was draped over him. Before he had a chance to jump to his feet and whip his wand out, a calm voice stopped all movement.

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

He stared in the face of Hermione Granger, squatting next to him. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t even find his scowl. She spoke again.

“It’s more comfortable with this,” she said, pointing at the thick blanket still draped over him. He opened his mouth, not having a clue about what to say.

He didn’t need to say anything. She got up and began to walk away, giving him a warm smile as she did. When she was a few feet away he finally found his voice.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked. His mind and body were too relaxed and content to work up any vitriol or the proper form of address.

“Just getting some fresh air. It’s such a lovely day.” Her voice and facial expression were enough to convince him that she spoke the truth. He nodded jerkily and she flounced off. Not in the direction of the castle though. Instead, she walked further around the lake, coming to a stop about a hundred yards away. He could easily make out her form and every limb, just not her facial expression.

She sat on under a small willow tree, spectacular already despite its size. It was a young tree, but already abundant with branches covered in downy looking golden leaves. They moved softly in the wind, swirling almost protectively around the girl by its roots. On closer inspection he saw that the girl’s hair moved in exactly the same fashion as the mass of golden yellow above her.

He shivered, huddled deeper into the blanket she had draped over him and ignored the fact that he wasn’t actually cold. His eyes stayed riveted on the scene. He had never imagined that this vivacious girl could sit still for so long, and in silence, no less.

The blanket was soon pulled up to his neck and he gave himself permission to inhale the faint scent of cranberry and enjoy the sight of her untamed hair move in time with the branches atop.

How could anyone favour sunshine to this? It was something he would never understand, just as the others would never understand him. Perhaps she did, he thought and continued with his perusal of the young woman, who was now turning her head towards the source of the soft drizzle, just as he had done.

No, he didn’t mind sharing this overcast day with her. He leaned his head against the rough bark of his tree with a sigh and enjoyed this feeling of content that washed over him. He felt a little less alone.


The End