Inspired greatly by Nomad1's story about
Snape, entitled "Learning Curve." It's fantastic, and partially
where I got the concept of why Snape is Harry's enemy. Mixed in
with my own reasoning, a new fascination with Snape and extreme boredom
on a camping trip, it is one of the key inspirations for this story.
Do read it, it's much more coherant than this nonsense.
This should have been up sooner, but it was very exhausting to write, and even harder to re-write.
This story relates events during Order of the Phoenix, so if you haven't read it, DON'T read this. This is your last spoiler warning. Any flames about me ruining the book (including, yes, the death) for you will not get any of my pity.
When Dumbledore called me up to his office to talk to me about giving Occlumency lessons to the Potter kid, my immediate thought was "HELL no." I didn't say that out loud, but it was certainly the most polite thing running through my head. But of course I couldn't say these things to Dumbledore, so I asked him - in the nicest tones I could muster - why he wanted me to do that. So he explained what he was thinking. We had discussed the problem of Voldemort posessing Potter, and I knew his reasons were good. If Potter is going to defeat him, he has to be strong. He has to get a grip on his emotions. I knew he had to learn, and I knew Dumbledore had reasons for having me teach Potter. That didn't mean I had to like him. I told Dumbledore I'd consider it.
What Potter doesn't seem to understand is that, like Dumbledore, I have reasons for acting the way I do. I'm a spy for Dumbledore, and as one, I have to pretend to be spying on him. Voldemort can't get even one hint that I'm on Dumbledore's side. Draco, the Malfoy kid - he'll tell his father about everything I do, and his father will tell Voldemort in a if I'm seen favoring Dumbledore or the Potter kid. I'm bitter and mean for a reason.
But then, Potter never understands that kind of reasoning. He can never take it on faith that Dumbledore, who he actually likes, has reasons for sending him back to the Dursleys. Why would he trust my reasoning? He has no logic - but I'm getting to that.
It helps that Potter's father was an arrogant jerk. Makes my job easier. Potter isn't as bad; his mother's genes, and the decency his dad eventually grew into (towards everyone but me, that is), and his upbringing do that for him. If he's allowed to be as popular and well-loved as his dad was here at Hogwarts, there's the imminent danger that his father's arrogance could come through. So I'm here to help stop it. There's no one else to do the job; you know, "famous Harry Potter" and all that rot. No, it's mostly up to me. I can look at him, pretend he's his father, and there's no big stretch for me.
He's too impulsive. He can never take the time to think things through. That's partly why he doesn't understand the way Dumbledore and I treat him. He operates on feelings. That, if anything, will be his downfall. If he learns to master his feelings, and use them at the right time, he could actually manage to defeat Voldemort. I am here for practice. I am the enemy he cannot vanquish. If he can withstand me - my tauntings, my hatred, and my mistreatment - then he can withstand anything Voldemort throws at him, and be able to focus on a strategy to defeat him.
So my rudeness serves triple purposes, and I will not cease it. This makes me a bad choice for a beginning Occlumency teacher. Dumbledore would have been much better suited, and then I could have taken the job to train him at a higher level so he could resist Voldemort. But I did not see that at the time. I, too, have come to trust Dumbledore far more than I should. His reasons were solid, his arguments made sense in my mind. I did not study the problem enough...and neither did he. It was our downfall, and we were guilty of the same thing Potter is: not taking the time to think things through enough.
There were reasons I did not want to teach Potter how to do Occlumency, but they were all more or less personal. I was his father's worst enemy. My memories of him were not something his son needed to see, and in the tricky work we would be doing, it was highly possible that he would be able to without me having the ability to stop him. These memories were embarrassing to me. But even besides that, he didn't need to know that his father hexed me for fun. It would give him too much satisfaction. He might think, if his father could do it, so could he. He can't become like his father. I have to be sure he doesn't, no matter what the cost is.
But the the highest reason of all was that he could not feel sorry for me. If he started acting nice and understanding towards me, someone would be bound to get suspicious eventually. He has to see me as torturing him for no reason, or we'll all be treading very dangerous waters.
So that was the danger I faced. I knew that he could potentially see thoughts and memories of mine that I didn't want him to see. I didn't want to risk it. I held Dumbledore off for three days, thinking about it. Dumbledore was afraid Voldemort would use Harry to attack him - and I was afraid of some stupid memories. I almost agreed to it, and perhaps tried to find a way to keep Potter out of my brain. But then it hit me - and the answer was so simple that I couldn't believe I could have been so stupid. A Pensieve. I could store every memory of his father that I had, safely in the Pensieve, and he would never see it.
I told Dumbledore I'd do it.
I realized very quickly what a mistake teaching Potter was. He hated me too much. He felt so much violent, extreme emotion towards me that I could not teach him to block his emotions so that no one could get into his brain. His natural skill is not in blocking emotions. Someone he hates trying to get him to clear his mind was like pulling teeth. It is the same with Potions. He has no sublety or attention to small details, and me standing over him sneering at him makes it worse.
Occlumency was not quite as bad - he understood the need for it even if he didn't like it. But he didn't like to practice, either. I tried to goad him into it - treating him like the arrogant twat his father was, telling him he was just trying to get attention. But that made him hate me more, and I couldn't get him to do it. And Voldemort got into his brain, and took his godfather. Twat!
If he hadn't gotten into my Pensieve, there might have been hope. But he could not see some of those memories. I had realized soon enough that some of the things I was keeping from him were because he wasn't allowed to know them. There is secret information in my brain, things that are to be kept from loudmouths who have best friends to whom they confide everything. He had crossed the line, and I couldn't risk him coming near it again.
I threw him out of my classroom.
Lupin and Black ranted, of course. Or rather, Black ranted and Lupin tried to talk me out of it. I actually paid attention to what Lupin said. He told me what Harry had done, how he had come to them completely disgusted with what he had seen. Well, that wasn't enough for me. I told him I couldn't risk it again. I explained that Potter couldn't be sympathetic towards me, that it would blow my cover wide open. Me throwing him out was the only thing drastic enough to counter-act any empathy for me.
Of course, it didn't go quite like that. I said it more along the lines of "You of all people, Lupin, should understand the value of keeping a secret. After all, you must hide your...condition for as long as possible from any employer you have the luck of finding. Though I must admit," and here I looked him up and down and sneered, "You don't seem to be very successful, do you?"
Lupin didn't react to my barbs, but then, he never did. It was always Black or Potter (the first) who jumped to his defense. He only said, "Snape, you know as well as I do that Sirius could walk in on this any minute. I suggest you get to the point, before we are unable to have a reasonable discussion without you two trying to kill each other. Though I must admit I'm rather close to killing you myself."
"That would be unwise, Lupin," I sneered, oozing grease as I am so good at doing, "You know I am a spy. You know that if Voldemort found out about me, or if something happened to me, the chances of defeating him would be slim to none. Do not alternate between becoming a beast and an idiot, Lupin. Do you want Potter to think I am the good guy? I was under the impression that you were trying to brainwashing him into thinking he was the only hero."
He must have been reading between the lines of my insults, because next he gave me a taste of my own medicine. "And so you would rather that Voldemort possess Potter, Snape? You would rather give him the upper hand?"
I've always enjoyed a good argument with Lupin. Gryffindor though he is, he never loses his cool or tries to hex me like Sirius or James would. "No," I said "But I would rather that I stay alive. Unless you can hammer it into your precious best friend's son's head that he can't sympathize with me, then the lessons are over. I highly doubt you can manage that, Lupin. The boy is just as thick-skulled as his father was, if that's possible. And if I'm dead, and Potter dies, then who will defeat Voldemort? You?" I sneered, again. "I don't think so. I prefer to stay alive, thank you. Lord Voldemort's wrath is nothing to be toyed with."
Lupin probably saw what I meant, but he still glared. "So you will leave him defenseless, just to save your own skin."
"Yes, that's the gist of it," I agreed, "That's what Slytherins do. However--this time is different. In saving my own skin, I save everyone else's too. You understand?"
"Does Dumbledore approve of this plan?"
"He's not happy, but he understands my reasoning," I admitted.
"Then there's not much I can do, is there?" Lupin said. "You'd better go talk to Sirius - he'll want to yell at you for a bit."
"Don't you have a leash for him?" I asked, sneering and injecting the proper disgust into my voice so it wouldn't sound humorous.
Lupin's eyes twinkled anyway. "No, but you can get him one for Christmas. I'm sure he'd appreciate it."
I sneered again - I'm quite good at it - then made my escape. I could hear Lupin laughing as I left the room. Bloody werewolves.
Of course, my encounter with Black was quite predictable. He ranted at me, I insulted him, he insulted me, and he came off hating me with a passion. Nothing important.
And so the lessons stopped. Perhaps Dumbledore will continue them in the future. But for now, Potter and I are back on the same grounds - hatred. And I intend to keep it that way for a very long time.
THE END. NO, I AM NOT WRITING A SEQUEL. THIS IS THE END.
WHEW. That was exhuasting. Snape is not easy to write. If you sat through all this without falling asleep, I congratulate you.
I am SO writing bloopers for this. You don't know how many times I had to stop myself from...but never mind. You'll see. I'm a horrible person...
This should have been up sooner, but it was very exhausting to write, and even harder to re-write.
This story relates events during Order of the Phoenix, so if you haven't read it, DON'T read this. This is your last spoiler warning. Any flames about me ruining the book (including, yes, the death) for you will not get any of my pity.
When Dumbledore called me up to his office to talk to me about giving Occlumency lessons to the Potter kid, my immediate thought was "HELL no." I didn't say that out loud, but it was certainly the most polite thing running through my head. But of course I couldn't say these things to Dumbledore, so I asked him - in the nicest tones I could muster - why he wanted me to do that. So he explained what he was thinking. We had discussed the problem of Voldemort posessing Potter, and I knew his reasons were good. If Potter is going to defeat him, he has to be strong. He has to get a grip on his emotions. I knew he had to learn, and I knew Dumbledore had reasons for having me teach Potter. That didn't mean I had to like him. I told Dumbledore I'd consider it.
What Potter doesn't seem to understand is that, like Dumbledore, I have reasons for acting the way I do. I'm a spy for Dumbledore, and as one, I have to pretend to be spying on him. Voldemort can't get even one hint that I'm on Dumbledore's side. Draco, the Malfoy kid - he'll tell his father about everything I do, and his father will tell Voldemort in a if I'm seen favoring Dumbledore or the Potter kid. I'm bitter and mean for a reason.
But then, Potter never understands that kind of reasoning. He can never take it on faith that Dumbledore, who he actually likes, has reasons for sending him back to the Dursleys. Why would he trust my reasoning? He has no logic - but I'm getting to that.
It helps that Potter's father was an arrogant jerk. Makes my job easier. Potter isn't as bad; his mother's genes, and the decency his dad eventually grew into (towards everyone but me, that is), and his upbringing do that for him. If he's allowed to be as popular and well-loved as his dad was here at Hogwarts, there's the imminent danger that his father's arrogance could come through. So I'm here to help stop it. There's no one else to do the job; you know, "famous Harry Potter" and all that rot. No, it's mostly up to me. I can look at him, pretend he's his father, and there's no big stretch for me.
He's too impulsive. He can never take the time to think things through. That's partly why he doesn't understand the way Dumbledore and I treat him. He operates on feelings. That, if anything, will be his downfall. If he learns to master his feelings, and use them at the right time, he could actually manage to defeat Voldemort. I am here for practice. I am the enemy he cannot vanquish. If he can withstand me - my tauntings, my hatred, and my mistreatment - then he can withstand anything Voldemort throws at him, and be able to focus on a strategy to defeat him.
So my rudeness serves triple purposes, and I will not cease it. This makes me a bad choice for a beginning Occlumency teacher. Dumbledore would have been much better suited, and then I could have taken the job to train him at a higher level so he could resist Voldemort. But I did not see that at the time. I, too, have come to trust Dumbledore far more than I should. His reasons were solid, his arguments made sense in my mind. I did not study the problem enough...and neither did he. It was our downfall, and we were guilty of the same thing Potter is: not taking the time to think things through enough.
There were reasons I did not want to teach Potter how to do Occlumency, but they were all more or less personal. I was his father's worst enemy. My memories of him were not something his son needed to see, and in the tricky work we would be doing, it was highly possible that he would be able to without me having the ability to stop him. These memories were embarrassing to me. But even besides that, he didn't need to know that his father hexed me for fun. It would give him too much satisfaction. He might think, if his father could do it, so could he. He can't become like his father. I have to be sure he doesn't, no matter what the cost is.
But the the highest reason of all was that he could not feel sorry for me. If he started acting nice and understanding towards me, someone would be bound to get suspicious eventually. He has to see me as torturing him for no reason, or we'll all be treading very dangerous waters.
So that was the danger I faced. I knew that he could potentially see thoughts and memories of mine that I didn't want him to see. I didn't want to risk it. I held Dumbledore off for three days, thinking about it. Dumbledore was afraid Voldemort would use Harry to attack him - and I was afraid of some stupid memories. I almost agreed to it, and perhaps tried to find a way to keep Potter out of my brain. But then it hit me - and the answer was so simple that I couldn't believe I could have been so stupid. A Pensieve. I could store every memory of his father that I had, safely in the Pensieve, and he would never see it.
I told Dumbledore I'd do it.
I realized very quickly what a mistake teaching Potter was. He hated me too much. He felt so much violent, extreme emotion towards me that I could not teach him to block his emotions so that no one could get into his brain. His natural skill is not in blocking emotions. Someone he hates trying to get him to clear his mind was like pulling teeth. It is the same with Potions. He has no sublety or attention to small details, and me standing over him sneering at him makes it worse.
Occlumency was not quite as bad - he understood the need for it even if he didn't like it. But he didn't like to practice, either. I tried to goad him into it - treating him like the arrogant twat his father was, telling him he was just trying to get attention. But that made him hate me more, and I couldn't get him to do it. And Voldemort got into his brain, and took his godfather. Twat!
If he hadn't gotten into my Pensieve, there might have been hope. But he could not see some of those memories. I had realized soon enough that some of the things I was keeping from him were because he wasn't allowed to know them. There is secret information in my brain, things that are to be kept from loudmouths who have best friends to whom they confide everything. He had crossed the line, and I couldn't risk him coming near it again.
I threw him out of my classroom.
Lupin and Black ranted, of course. Or rather, Black ranted and Lupin tried to talk me out of it. I actually paid attention to what Lupin said. He told me what Harry had done, how he had come to them completely disgusted with what he had seen. Well, that wasn't enough for me. I told him I couldn't risk it again. I explained that Potter couldn't be sympathetic towards me, that it would blow my cover wide open. Me throwing him out was the only thing drastic enough to counter-act any empathy for me.
Of course, it didn't go quite like that. I said it more along the lines of "You of all people, Lupin, should understand the value of keeping a secret. After all, you must hide your...condition for as long as possible from any employer you have the luck of finding. Though I must admit," and here I looked him up and down and sneered, "You don't seem to be very successful, do you?"
Lupin didn't react to my barbs, but then, he never did. It was always Black or Potter (the first) who jumped to his defense. He only said, "Snape, you know as well as I do that Sirius could walk in on this any minute. I suggest you get to the point, before we are unable to have a reasonable discussion without you two trying to kill each other. Though I must admit I'm rather close to killing you myself."
"That would be unwise, Lupin," I sneered, oozing grease as I am so good at doing, "You know I am a spy. You know that if Voldemort found out about me, or if something happened to me, the chances of defeating him would be slim to none. Do not alternate between becoming a beast and an idiot, Lupin. Do you want Potter to think I am the good guy? I was under the impression that you were trying to brainwashing him into thinking he was the only hero."
He must have been reading between the lines of my insults, because next he gave me a taste of my own medicine. "And so you would rather that Voldemort possess Potter, Snape? You would rather give him the upper hand?"
I've always enjoyed a good argument with Lupin. Gryffindor though he is, he never loses his cool or tries to hex me like Sirius or James would. "No," I said "But I would rather that I stay alive. Unless you can hammer it into your precious best friend's son's head that he can't sympathize with me, then the lessons are over. I highly doubt you can manage that, Lupin. The boy is just as thick-skulled as his father was, if that's possible. And if I'm dead, and Potter dies, then who will defeat Voldemort? You?" I sneered, again. "I don't think so. I prefer to stay alive, thank you. Lord Voldemort's wrath is nothing to be toyed with."
Lupin probably saw what I meant, but he still glared. "So you will leave him defenseless, just to save your own skin."
"Yes, that's the gist of it," I agreed, "That's what Slytherins do. However--this time is different. In saving my own skin, I save everyone else's too. You understand?"
"Does Dumbledore approve of this plan?"
"He's not happy, but he understands my reasoning," I admitted.
"Then there's not much I can do, is there?" Lupin said. "You'd better go talk to Sirius - he'll want to yell at you for a bit."
"Don't you have a leash for him?" I asked, sneering and injecting the proper disgust into my voice so it wouldn't sound humorous.
Lupin's eyes twinkled anyway. "No, but you can get him one for Christmas. I'm sure he'd appreciate it."
I sneered again - I'm quite good at it - then made my escape. I could hear Lupin laughing as I left the room. Bloody werewolves.
Of course, my encounter with Black was quite predictable. He ranted at me, I insulted him, he insulted me, and he came off hating me with a passion. Nothing important.
And so the lessons stopped. Perhaps Dumbledore will continue them in the future. But for now, Potter and I are back on the same grounds - hatred. And I intend to keep it that way for a very long time.
THE END. NO, I AM NOT WRITING A SEQUEL. THIS IS THE END.
WHEW. That was exhuasting. Snape is not easy to write. If you sat through all this without falling asleep, I congratulate you.
I am SO writing bloopers for this. You don't know how many times I had to stop myself from...but never mind. You'll see. I'm a horrible person...