A/N, Disclaimer and the rest of it: Erm please R&R as this took ages!! and i loooove my reveiwers ur like my lil marshmellows, keeping me happy! hehe my 3rd story s tell us what u think, third time lucky, hey? i dedicate this to... the guy i like but im not telling you his name hehe!! and also to that tree out there in my garden coz i like it!! hehe. I own nothing that you recognise... actually not even the plot is mine... just snapes thoughts and the added ending! i done own anything... not even this cardboard box im typing from or the tshirt im using as a roof...hehe!!
Snape's Story
"Excellent" Potters voice slices through Snapes mind like it always does. Oh, that stupid son of a bitch. He thinks to himself "I'll never bloody forgive him and his stupid gang of Marauders of Muffins or whatever they happen to be calling themselves at this moment in time". The young, greasy haired loner turns to leave, the worry of the last few weeks evident on his tired, sallow face. He seems distracted, which is probably due to the fact he's just taken the second most important exam he will ever take and he is too tired, the sleepless nights are catching up on him and he can't be bothered to fight with them, for once. He needs to pass tomorrows exam, Potions, and wants to check his answers to this exam, because his dream is to teach Defence against the Dark Arts when he is old enough. He has got this unexplained fondness for them, the power that you can hold within your grasp, the thrill, and the respect you can gain from them if you use them in a certain way. Respect that that the small, weedy child has never had, something that he's lacked his whole life. It is his love of the Dark Arts that separates him from the rest of his school community, and the reason that James Potter and the rest of the Marauders- and most of the school- loathe him.
"All right Snivellus?" Again, Potters voice cuts through him, but sinister. He sees no way to get out of the subject humiliation that he is subjected to everyday. So, as quick as a flash he pulls his wand out on reflex, but the jet-black haired Gryffindor is ready for him and disarms him. His wand falls behind him and Sirius Black does that stupid dog-like laugh at Potters antics. IN his humiliation, he thinks to himself "I swear those two are gay, seriously." He is quickly diving towards his discarded wand when he is knocked over by a curse aimed at him, from Blacks general direction. "Oh, fabulous." He thinks, utterly mortified. Now everyone was watching his public execution, including Lily Evans. Potter looks at her and does that stupid "look-i-just-walked-off-the-quidditch-pitch-honest" thing with his hair.
"How'd the exam go, Snivelly?" Potter turns his attention back to the waiting boy.
"I was watching him. His nose was touching the parchment. There'll be great grease marks all over it; they won't be able to read a word." Black can be so vicious sometimes. It's a surprise he didn't make Slytherin. Before Severus can utter a retort, he realises that Blacks spell is wearing off.
"You-wait. You- wait!" His voice is filled with loathing for Potter, and so he spits the words out as viciously as he can possibly muster in his embarrassed state.
"Wait for what? What're you gunna do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?" Black said. Idiot. The lying schoolboy swears at him, a mix of muggle swear words that he's picked up from various people over the years, and then various hexes, but with his cherry and unicorn hair wand lying useless some ten feet away, nothing significant happens to Black.
"Wash your mouth out!" Potter aims his wand at the hopeless boy. Oh joy, he thinks to himself. I've had this treatment from him before. He braces himself for Potters spell.
"Scourgify!"
All of a sudden he is being gagged by a load of frothy, scented soap bubbles. They taste disgusting and he is rolling around on the floor smothered in a mass of black robes and wet bubble, when suddenly he hears a salvation in the form of a loud, clear, almost angelic voice.
"Leave him ALONE!" the mortified, angry Slytherin slowly emerges from his soapy black cocoon to see Lily Evans, hands on hips, red hair shimmering in the sun and her green eyes gleaming with anger. Potter is ruffling his hair with the hand that isn't already occupied hexing Snape. He talks to Lily, but his voice is deeper and a lot more pleasant compared to when he talks to any of the others, the sopping wet boy at his feet included…he smirks to himself, despite the embarrassment, thinking with conviction and sarcasm "I'm sure I'll get over that major tragedy in my life."
"What's he done to you?" Everyone hears Lily say. Potter makes some obviously hilarious retort about how worthless the boy is to him. The feelings mutual, I assure you. Snape stops listening and starts inching his way towards his wand while they are all distracted by that gorgeous mudblood. As they continue to argue, he reaches the wand, grabs it and just has time to listen to what Lily is saying…how much she prefers the giant squid, by the sounds of it. Well, there's hope for me yet, he thinks to himself. Focussing on his loathing of Potter, the way he ruffles his hair and all that crap that girls fall for, plus his and Blacks plot to "usefully dispose" of him earlier in the year, the pale boy aims for Potter and thinks with all his mind
"SECTUMSEMPRA!" his mind screams it silently, and the spell successfully manages to slice his face open. Good for him, Severus thinks. His face deserved to be damaged in some way! This small triumph, however, is somewhat lessened by the fact that that blood traitor, Black has got him hanging up by his foot, robes falling over his head revealing my undergarments. "How dare he use my own spells against me!? Me, the Half Blood Prince! That useless, slimy, toad of a wizard who never works is using my spells, which I've laboured over to create, using them to embarrass me and hurt me in any way possible short of killing me!" he is mumbling to himself but no one hears because of the think wad of robes in front of his mouth.
Lily eventually makes Potter get the young man down, and he tries his best to look dignified in a heap on the floor, but then suddenly his body freezes up and he's paralyzed by a spell, again from Blacks direction. He lays there, feeling helpless on the floor, feeling the eyes of every student in the proximity watching him. Trying to block that terrible, torturous feeling of shame, he starts listening to what's being said.
"AH, Evans, don't make me hex you" Potter is saying in that sickly sweet voice that most of the female sex swoon over. He better not hex her! AT further orders from Lily Potter reluctantly takes Blacks curse off the dishevelled seventeen year old.
He contemplates as Potter and Lily continue to argue. He doesn't know what comes over him at times like this, whether its due to humiliation, anger at Potter or just anger at the world in general, but it always seems to be Lily who saves him. She is always there, fighting his corner, and she's the only one who ever does. Even the members of his own house reject him. But then, as he is watching see Potter and Lily standing together, and he remembers who he is, and more revealingly, who she is. A filthy mudblood, who has no feelings for him, a snivelly, creep of a teenager up to his eyes in the dark arts. She just wants to stop Potter from being stupid and getting expelled so that she can get laid.
"You're lucky Evans was here Snivellus."
"I don't need help from filthy little mudbloods like her!" he shouts, a voice full of rage, anger, humiliation and hurt. He hated it when people assumed that he needed to rely on people. "I don't need anybody to make me happy or to help me with my life or my problems." He thinks to himself, his mind screaming the fact at him. But then, he hated saying that Lily was filthy.
"Fine. I won't bother in future, and I'd wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus." Lily's voice cuts him like a knife, but not in the way that Potters did. Lily's voice is a mix of reproach, anger and hate. He thinks he deserves it, he is sure of it. He questions himself. Why did I call her mudblood anyway? What's she ever did but look out for you? I could hardly talk, he thinks, being half muggle myself.
Potter and Lily continue to talk about the size of Potters head when Lily walks away. Then Black and Potter start talking about what just happened, and in his downheartedness, Potter flicks the weedy teenager up in the air again and the charade continues, him hexing Potter out of spite and Potter continually embarrassing him and hexing him.
"You're such a coward, Potter!! You only ever hex me when you've got your little friends hanging out with you, watching your back, and an audience to play to." His voice drips with detestation and anger, caused by the seemingly endless humiliation that he has to suffer at the hands of James Potter. He turns and walks away on his heel toward the lake just as the bell sounds indicating the next period, and the dismal fact that lunch is over. Potter goes to utter one last hex but Lupin grabs his wand and drags him and the rest of the Sainted Marauders off to class.
Thankful that he doesn't have a class with Gryffindor this afternoon, just a free period, the now exhausted youth sits by the lake, thinking about Lily Evans and James Potter. He always gave as good as he got with Potter, but as half the school wanted to be him and the other wanted to be in bed with him, his brilliancy with a wand in his hand was surpassed and people only ever paid attention to what Potter did to him. Plus, the only thing that has ever come between him and hurting Potter extraordinarily seriously was one Miss Lily Evans. He spoke aloud to himself "It's obvious they'll end up together; they just don't see it yet. I may as well give up on her. She's a mudblood, and a Gryffindor, and what's more she's going to end up shagging my mortal enemy." As far as his head could see things, there was no plus side to actually liking Lily Evans. He didn't want everybody to think that he needed her to stand up for him against Potter and the rest of the Teletubby Team. He couldn't let that happen. He can't just let go of his honour and his pride because Lily Evans happens to have nice hair. The more he thought about her, the more he started to dislike Lily Evans.
"She's just a daft little mudblood. You don't need her. You don't need anybody. Evans and Potter are perfect together, Dumbledore's little suck ups." Again, he spoke aloud to himself, gathering his books and heading back to the magnificent castle.
"You don't need anyone. Potter had better look out. The Half Blood Prince is back with a vengeance." He laughed, a small, soft but extremely vindictive laugh, and headed to the Room of Requirement from the entrance hall. Waiting for him once he had asked the door three times for what he wanted, stood a small cauldron filled with of a clear, glasslike substance that he had been working on for the last month. In the cauldron, there was about enough to fill a goblet. A plan started to form in his mind as he examined the liquid. It was tasteless and colourless…Oh weren't Potter, Evans and Black and the rest going to get a surprise with their morning pumpkin juice?