User:LadyGrayLavender

Date: 12.30.13 Speak of the Devil and He shall appear.

It is difficult for me to describe the situation I am in at the moment... Despite turning on my Pandora account as well as hearing the playful fighting of two of my three puppies everything is is...still.

I knew I should have never read that Pasta. I should have trusted that gut-feeling. I seen his name after all this time........... I will just get this over with...

I started to read Fan Fiction almost five years ago after a friend introduced me to a fic that I can no longer remember, but that story is irrelevant to this one. It took no time to become addicted to all the possibilities that Fan Fiction offered. I became so....there is no word that could describe the gravity that kept me in FFN's embrace.

You see, I did not have a good life at that point in time. My mother finally divorced her second husband, my step-dad who had used me for his own pleasure for almost ten years. During those ten years, I closed myself off from the world, and my only solstice was between the binding of my precious books. Being a bookworm, I was always sad when I discovered that all of my beloved stories had to end.

Yes, I know that a story can never truly end because you can re-read the books, and I know that I could just imagine more adventures based off of the books I read. Knowing these true facts could not fight the unhappy truth; it was never enough. So as you can guess, Fan Fiction was an answer to my prayers, and this discovery helped me in the agonizingly slow process of healing my soul.

I tried to force myself to socializing with my peers. At first I studied them like I believe an animal would study humans. It did not take long for me to find out they had already labeled me as a pariah, and by learning this I dove into FFN with such vigor it soon it became the addiction I previously spoke of.

After about a year of reading fics, I stumbled upon a Hermione X Snape story. (Don't judge because some of those pairings are absolutely beautiful.) Anyway, the summary of the story was that Hermione and Snape had fallen in love, however Snape was not the first to stake claim over the clever third of the Golden Trio. I will not tell you his name because I do not want to curse you with that knowledge, but he is a very powerful force and for the sake of this tale I will call him Patch.

I remember this story being quite long, and as I read though the chapters I became curious with Patch. He had attached himself to Hermione as just a fun trick at first. He loves to mess with humans that hold a certain essence that no one can seem to pinpoint. His reasons are for him alone to know I'm sure. Anyway, Patch would visit Hermione in her dreams to have some company while using her body as his vessel.

Over the course of the story, Patch fell in love with Hermione to the point that he began to devise a plan and many back up plans to rid of the infamous Potions Master.

Know that you know this I can tell you that as the story continued I felt a need to know more about Patch. I researched endlessly only to end up with one source of information about this entity. I so wish I had never started that search...

The information I found left me less than thrilled... I swore to myself I would not chase after information on Patch ever again, and with saying that about a year after I became aware of what Patch actually was he came to pay me a house call.. During the time span of a month He visited me in my dreams; making sure I would never forget him. At first it was friendly enough being that the only thing that took place in those first dreams was conversations on daily matters. Two weeks into our being acquainted, he had made a unsavory comment on my past with my mother's latest husband. I instantly grew angry and decided to try waking myself up.

To say that Patch did not find that amusing is an understatement.

I remember entering that stage of waking up where you can feel the covers over your body and feeling the chill of the Winter air on my nose. I remember for a fraction of a second being doubtful of his nightly appearances. I also remember feeling a hand smack on the area between ..my chest area, and by doing this I was almost immediately shoved back into the (realm?) of my mind where Patch and I spent our nights talking to each other. It is needless to say he did not like my leaving without his permission and took it upon himself to teach me a lesson that he will let me wake up when he wants me to wake up. I am not able to remember the act that he chose to teach me that lesson, but you can bet my ass that I learned it. After that incident we were on well enough terms with each other. I grew to enjoy his company, and I would like to believe that he tolerated mine. Once the month had passed, Patch left without a word kin to goodbye. Felling an emotion that one could call sadness when I realized I would not be able to talk to the snarky being that I had grown used to.

I have gone two years without noticing a reference to him...until tonight. I knew I should have never read that pasta. I should have trusted that gut feeling... Well.... wish me luck guys. If he comes, I hope he is in a good mood.