Getting the facts straight
How Snape really ended up with the Death-Eaters. Don't ask how I came up with this... I should really stop thinking. Scary things happen when I do.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter, nor do I own the song that this fic is based on. (I'll tell you guys at the end... you should be able to guess. It's that easy. Song clues start a few paragraphs in.)
In the here and now, darkness prevailed. Images and voices slipped in and out of the shadows, clips of memories and imaginings mingling together until nothing made sense swam in and out of focus. But, always, darkness prevailed. It was soothing and comforting.
A piercing noise crashed through the pleasant dreams, and the dreamer, now awake, cursed bitterly.
"Bloody hell," an English voice murmured as the alarm went off. "Making all that bloody racket. Shut the hell up already!" Numbed and senseless hands slapped at the clock in an effort to make the noise go away. But this person hadn't the slightest idea of how the alarm clock worked, or how to shut it off. He finally tugged at it until the cord came out of the socket. But the damage was already done.
Severus Snape rolled over in bed, moaning and wincing. God, he did not want to be awake. Not after last night. The seventh-year Slytherins had gotten together for an end of Hogwarts party... one that inevitably involved Muggle-taunting, loud music, dark magic, sex and drinking. Snape didn't join in the sex, of course, not even a Slytherin, no matter how drunk he or she was, would consider doing such a thing with him. Besides, he hadn't really been interested. The NEWTs had been particularly nasty that year, and all he wanted to do was drown the memories. Mission accomplished.
Last night was certainly not his introduction to heavy drinking... sometimes he would break the rules, along with some of the others in his house, and get totally sloshed. They were Slytherin, after all. Not some namby-pamby Gryffindor or, even worse, some bumbling Hufflepuff. But last night was another story... he had never gone that far. And today, Snape woke up with a killer hangover.
"God," he groaned. "I hope it was worth all that pain!" Then he paused and smirked. "I'd do it all over again," he admitted to himself. He had been smart and had started out light... just some beer at first. No point in getting totally hammered right at the get-go... no, one had to get progressively drunk so they could properly enjoy the gradual release from the mundane. Beer at first, then some light shooters. By the time the party was over, tequila was his claim to fame.
Last night, he was so far gone he couldn't even remember his name. It had even gotten to the point where he, he of all people, had started dancing with someone. Who was it now... a Slytherin boy, now that Snape thought about it. No one had really been picky about who they had been partying with the night before, everyone was too drunk and high on freedom (among other things) to care. So, Snape was dancing with... Jake, yes, that was his name. That was around the time he last saw his wand. Any thought of going home went right out the window right about then. The wizard had been much too drunk to walk anywhere, and even if he had still kept his wand, disparating would have been out of the question. God knows where all of his body parts would have ended up. Well, that had been his first mistake of the night. He kept getting progressively more drunk and eventually passed out.
He sniffed and ran a hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes. Snape happened to glance at his arm and received the shock of his young life. Something was off, something was very different. Lowering his arm slowly, he stared transfixed at the flesh on the inside of his forearm.
Oh, my God, I woke up with a Death Eater tattoo! He thought with a start. Well, it could be worse. At least he didn't have a huge teddy bear with some woman's name tattooed into his flesh. And the black outline of a skull with a snake for a tongue did look fascinating to say the least. He had given a passing thought to joining the Death Eaters to further his knowledge of the Dark Arts, although he secretly had to admit that their whole Muggle-baiting and hatred towards anyone who wasn't a pureblood was a bit of a turnoff.
Snape smirked slightly and shrugged his shoulders. There were worse things he could have gotten seared into his flesh. All of a sudden, the young wizard felt a strange sensation in his mouth. A slight throbbing pain and a cool, metallic taste. Oh, my God... I think that my tongue's pierced too. Severus paced the room a bit, unable to believe that he had gotten so drunk. Oh my God, oh my God... he thought hazily. The party last night was great, but now it's the Sunday morning after. The time when the alcohol wears off and the stupid stuff you did on Saturday night comes back to bite you in the ass.
In a rather uncharacteristic show of good humor, the new Death Eater shrugged and smiled. "It's the Sunday morning after..." he muttered to himself, chuckling and shaking his head.
All of a sudden, someone shifted in the bed and moaned sleepily. Snape's head snapped around quickly. He swiped strands of hair away from his eyes and gaped at an Asian woman, about his age, lying in a bed that, he suddenly realized, wasn't his own.
"Um..." he sputtered, "who the hell are you?"
Le fin
Author's note: The song this fic is based on is Amanda Marshall's "Sunday Morning After". Please tell me you guessed that already.
P.S. I am truly not responsible for this. Lawn gnomes broke into my house and snuck LSD and crack into my Lucky Charms. The bastards. eats more Lucky Charms mmmmmmmmmmm...