Title : Twilight Conversations
Summary : During-HBP. Twilight musings in the astronomy tower. One-shot. Harry vs Snape.
Disclaimer : Still don't own it, though I do love to play with the characters now and again.
Greys and navy blues swirled together in a sea of charcoals and violets. Together, they created the outline of an ominous looking sky that threatened a downpour at any moment. The cool, crisp wind blew through the old tower, carrying with it a sense of finality and wistfulness. It spoke volumes, but only to those that were willing to hear it.
One unwilling soul was there, observing the sea of tranquility that was about to shatter before his eyes. It was only a matter of time.
The breeze ran through him, chilling him to the bone. He could feel it creep up through his billowing black robes, plunging through his near transparent skin and soaking his soul. He was drowning in the agony of duty and irrationality. He knew what had to be done, even if it meant condemning his mind to a hell of sleepless nights and ever-lasting days.
He had made a vow, not necessarily an Unbreakable one, but one that he could not be broken nonetheless. He was honor bound to carry it through, but if he had the choice, his life would be the first to go.
His eyes narrowed as a particularly strong gust swept across him, making his greasy hair sway against its will. He took a few steps back from the edge of the balcony and pulled his robes closer to him, though no matter how tight they were kept, he'd still be shivering underneath them.
He could barely contain it anymore. The tremors, the shivering, the beating of his heart. All were becoming too much, even for the black eyed spy to handle.
He'd seen death before. It wasn't as though it was anything new to him. Hell, he'd even partaken in a few times; but this? To kill—no murder the one person who had trusted him to his very core; second thoughts crossed his mind. He hadn't really had second thoughts before; sure he'd had regrets and quite possibly detested himself for them, but to take the life away of the one man who had rescued him from the pit of Hell, surely this time the old man was asking far too much. There was just no way he could go through with it.
His eyes narrowed as memories and visions of the past drifted through his mind. Flashes upon flashes of pictures temporarily confiscated his eyes, forcing him to look back upon the things he had done, and the things he would have to do.
But he had promised, hadn't he? He'd sworn his life over to the aged wizard, and whatever that man said went, right?
But how could he have asked me to do such a blasted thing?
He could feel pangs of anger begin to gnaw at his conscience, tearing what was left of a heart in two.
He glowered up at the sky once more, the clouds finally ending their pain and releasing their tears upon the earth. The wind picked them up and threw them across the grounds; and he watched, knowing this might possibly be the last time he partook in such magnificence.
He sallow skin carried an eerie glow with it in the twilight of the impending storm, so thin you could almost see through it. He was like a ghost that moved carefully along the shadows, concealing himself within the magicks of the school.
But he knew the time was coming when he would have to be more than just a ghost, more than just a shadow. He'd have to become nothing for the atrocity that he knew he would have to perform. And along with that, he'd have to take the pain and the hate; though once again keeping it hidden deep within his soul. For that was something only beknownst to his eyes, no one else's. It was his secret pain and his secret hate, and he'd rather like to keep it that way.
He closed his eyes and took in the air that was becoming chillier by the minute, making his skin as cold as ice.
He turned, twitchingly as footsteps made their way up the stairs behind him. Saving a loathing glance to whomever it was, he turned back around, resting both hands on the balcony. He should have known, no matter where he went, someone was always sure to follow.
"What are you doing out so late, Potter?" he questioned silkily, his tone as cold as his skin.
The young teenager stood in the doorway of the tower, utterly dismayed at finding the person he hated the most standing in front of him.
"I asked you a question," Snape hissed, slowly craning his neck in the direction of the boy. "And I expect an answer."
Knowing that somehow no matter what he said would not help the position he was in now, he stayed quiet, his eyes falling downcast as he prepared for a week's worth of detentions.
"I see," Snape muttered, turning back to the raging storm in front of him, his eyes narrowing as lightning danced across the darkening sky.
An awkward silence fell between them, the rain pouring down in sheets just feet from them. The sky continued to darken as night settled in above the clouds.
At the sudden quietness, the boy found himself staring bewildered at the mute Potions Master, positive by now that the man would have deducted fifty points from Gryfinndor just for him standing there. But instead, the older man remained nonvocal, seemingly forgetting that Harry was even there.
"Sir-"
"Potter, you shouldn't meddle in things you do not understand. Sticking your nose in someone else's business is not a particular quality that some would call favorable." His tone was sharp, yet dismantled, his eyes still warily seeking something in the ocean of rain in front of him. He said nothing else; he just stood there, gripping the side of the balcony.
The boy's eyes narrowed at the snide remark, anger swelling his veins. His gaze turned into a heated glare, nearly burning holes into the back of the spy's head. He should've known. He clenched his jaw, words spewing out of his vocal chords before he could shut them up.
"And what are you doing up here? The dungeons too cold this time of year?" He immediately regretted even opening his mouth, preparing now for the backlash that was to come.
But instead the Potions Master remained quiet, though since his back was turned, Harry could not see the proper sneer that had stricken his face.
The agonizing silence lasted for the better of three minutes before Snape's voice whisked its way through the howling wind.
"You should be thankful you're only a child."
His cold eyes met Harry's as a flash of lightning streaked behind the raven-haired man, his eyes casting a demented brilliance into the boy that stood before him. He didn't wait for a response as he continued.
"Because if you weren't, I would've thrown you off this tower by now. And I wouldn't have regretted it either. But apparently, there are more important things in store for you."
He was deathly silent once again before stalking across the distance between them, his eyes growing colder with each step. At the very moment Harry was sure there'd be an impact, but the black robes billowed past him instead, hautily taunting his skin. As the dark man swept past him, he was sure he could hear the man mumble, "You're lucky, Potter. More than you'll ever know." And with that, he was gone, vanishing into the darkness of the stairs below.
Open mouthed, Harry stood there frozen in place, letting the words sink in. His heart skipped a beat as he saw the small pool of crimson that lay where the man had just been standing, and watched as it trailed past him, down to the stairs below.
What had he come up there for?
Don't know where this came from.
Soundtrack : Ghost in the Shell OST 2 "we can't be cool" (fits perfectly, just repeat it a few times through)
Review please.
