AN : I saw this idea in , under the title The Pursuit Of Silence. According to the author there, the idea-twenty things Severus Snape would never say out loud, originated from a community space. Thus, I decided to treat it as a challenge. My first ever fanfic, please read and review!
Silence, in the Name of Severus Snape
Severus Snape is nothing if not mysterious. It seems that, at all times, enigmas surrounded him, and if you weren't careful enough, you might come across another completely unknown side of Severus Snape. This granted him an aura that allowed him a slight intimidating factor, depicting a man who is not only a mystery, but the mystery of all mysteries.
There are many things that made him how he is, that prepared him for the crucial role he played in the downfall of Tom Riddle. The most vital skill, however, lies in his reserved nature, thus offering him the values needed in the qualifications of a spy. And of course, his loyalty to the one he loved only strengthened his will, his urge for redemption, and eventually his love for solitude, further aiding his role.
He would not be the man he is now, albeit a little nasty, if not for his cagey, subtle way. It was one of the many sacrifices that came together with being a spy, one of the many traits that kept him alive. And yet he welcomed it, like a fish with water, a bird with freedom. Eventually, all of this pushed him towards his triumph as the greatest spy ever lived.
Inevitably, there were a number of things he will never say, nor be caught in the act of confessing them. Not because these things were relevant to his spying duties—which required a lot of secrets-keeping—to both sides of light and dark. It is due to the fact that these matters were so dissimilar to what he'd grown into, what people had perceived of him. It is due, to the fact that after so many years of spying, self-improvement and no space for mistakes, he had simply developed a tight-guarded box within him, keeping all his deepest secrets inside. And it is simply because, these were, once, parts of him he was forced to sever from himself.
The first—and most important—thing he would never say, interestingly, is of no obvious significance—he simply likes potions because the way it simmers reminds him of his mother at night, singing to him. It is not common knowledge that Tobias Snape often graces his only son with a few right hooks and broken noses, nor is it widely known that Severus had invented and later, patented his first advanced healing potion at the young age of 10 when earning himself his third bruised cheekbone. But it is never known that Severus, being desperate, used to climb up to the roof of his dingy house every night, wishing himself the courage to jump off, and then being coaxed back to bed, always, by his mother's singing. It was the only thing that gave him the strength to keep himself sane, before Hogwarts. Potions are no different, he used to think, it always reminds me of Mother, and the calm serenity they both offered. Potions, very much like his mother, had taught him his much needed—and now, famed—self-control, disciplining both his mind and his shaped Severus Snape into what he is now, resistant to pain—both physical and mental—and fiercely loyal to those who had given him reason to behave so. Severus Snape might never admit that, but he portrays it through the trained eye he always keeps on the few underprivileged students in his House, and sometime, unsuspectingly, Harry Potter.
The second secret was almost—almost—widely known after the defeat of Tom Riddle, owing largely to Potter's undisguised attempt on making amends—if you call spilling Severus Snape's most protected secret making amends—for his lack in judgment. But still, Severus Snape would not admit it, nor say or act in a way which suggests the possibility of it, despite how obvious it had become. Severus Snape had few friends in his life, much less close friends. But Lily Evans had wormed her way through the hard, impenetrable exterior of his—though his young age may have rendered him more susceptible to such attempts—and planted herself rather firmly in his heart. She was her first friend, the one who understands, the one who makes him laugh, the one who loves. Her friendship eventually evolves into something deeper, something that completed him, of course, until that eventful day. He never loved another again, though partly due to the fact he was recruited into the Dark Lord's ranks shortly after. His first love became his only love. But no one would ever know, the day the Dark Lord killed her, he had ran into the house and cradle her lifeless body, weeping, under the curious gaze of a baby's green eyes. He vowed that day, to never love another, and to protect her son, at all costs. He took a part of her with him that day as a reminder—a soft light blue sweater, kept till this day in his private quarters, charmed to retain Lily's scent. In return, Lily took a part of him away too—his heart, or what's left of it.
Another thing he wouldn't have say is that the first thing that came to his mind when he saw Harry Potter (and inevitably, Lily's eyes) was—How I wish he was my—and Lily's—son instead. But then he had turned too bitter and lonely, after Lily's death, that he began to blame not only himself, but James Potter for everything his life had turned out to be. If it weren't for that foul Potter, he might never have had to resort to the Dark Lord for protection. He might have continued his relationship with Lily and the boy before his eyes now would be sporting his own resemblance instead of James Potter's. Thus, the deep-rooted prejudice took over him, putting before his eyes not an innocent child, but a reincarnation of James Potter. The sheer thrill of revenge for everything James Potter had done blinded him, driving him to treat Harry Potter as such, willfully ignorant to everything that points otherwise. After all, he had a role to play, an act to uphold, and this made everything, if not easier, believable.
He never liked the Malfoys, except maybe for Draco. Lucius Malfoy was a cunning man, too cunning for Severus' taste. He could manipulate almost everybody into doing what he wanted them to, resorting to any paths, be it money, bribery or even murder. In terms of manipulation, he was almost as good as Dumbledore. Severus had once been the victim of his manipulation, only pulling out at the eleventh hour, having discovering Malfoy's ill intentions to present him to Voldemort as a disloyal servant, (not that Severus was ever loyal to that half-human, but he wasn't preparing on dying yet.) and discrediting Snape from Voldemort's trust. Severus blamed the Malfoys for what Draco had grown into. He had seen an innocent boy grow into a depressed teen under their duress, and judging by the way the elder Malfoy behave when his honor was threatened, Severus wasn't surprised when Draco turned into a bitter, angry Death Eater. It was only pity he felt for Draco. He didn't deserve that. Adding the fact that he had to pretend to be in their good graces… No. He did not like the Malfoys. At all.
He had quite a number of admirers when he was in Hogwarts, somewhere between twelve and sixteen. But he had Lily, and later, his bitter guilt and resentment, that he ignored all the girls (or monsters, in his opinion) that sought his heart. He recalled Narcissa Malfoy being one of the less subtle ones, Bellatrix another, though both were older than him. Nobody knows of this, except those involved in it. He still wonders if Lucius knows about Narcissa's temporary—shall we say—infatuation with him. Not that he's about to tell.
He had worked very hard to acquire his trademark raised eyebrow and his collections of glares. He used to hang about in the infirmary under the disguise of obtaining Healing knowledge, while secretly observing Poppy Pomfrey's amazing methods in compelling students to comply. His raised eyebrow is still somewhat similar to Poppy Pomfrey's, but with his own modifications to suit his more angular face.
When he was ten, he had a dream to become the first wizard who went to the moon without an aircraft. Given the time he spent looking at the stars, it wasn't that surprising. But as he grew up, he found that the times were too dire for him to continue in this fanatical reverie, especially after he found himself in Hogwarts, or more specifically, in the House that bred Death Eaters. But secretly, that "whimsical, insignificant rubbish" still held a place somewhere in his head, and sometimes dominated his thinking. He was the person who invented the Anti-Gravity potion, after all, as a way to achieve his dream.
He had tried, once, to escape the wizarding world when he was nineteen. Newly recruited into Voldemort's ranks, he discovered that he couldn't understand nor tolerate the twisted pleasure so many of his colleagues enjoy in the demented way of torturing helpless Muggles and wandless wizards. After all, he had once been the helpless victim under Tobias Snape's cruel hand. So, he emptied all his wizarding belongings, including his wand, into his vault in Gringotts, keeping only his key. He worked for a year in the Muggle world as a barkeeper, avoiding all contacts with the wizarding world before returning, inevitably, to the call (and wrath) of his Lord.
He enjoys Christmas Feasts in Hogwarts, although he doesn't show it. Before Hogwarts, he'd only heard of Christmas through tales from his mother, who usually paints Christmas in all its wonder with colourful tress and decorations, and also piles and piles of delicious food. Such was the scene he found—to his utmost delight— in Hogwarts, in his first ever Christmas Feast. After his mother's death, Hogwarts became his home, and Christmas Feasts became a must, in remembrance of his mother.
He used to wish he was a Gryffindor instead. He still does now, sometimes. After all, if he'd been a Gryffindor, he would have been with Lily. James Potter and his cronies would never even stand a chance. But since the "Mudblood" incident, he'd come to hate Gryffindor, thinking that every Gryffindor was a James Potter. It was also, regrettably, his fault that the Gryffindor-Slytherin feud had worsen because of his campaign against Potter. But now, as he looks back at his life, he still secretly blames the Sorting Hat for putting him with the snakes. Not that he hadn't turned into a Slytherin worthy of Salazar himself. But still.