Mystery of the Whisper:
by: Marilyn, My Bitterness
Summary: We're all so used to the 'Snape-Saves-Harry' drabble, but what happens when the tables are turned?
Rated: R for language, self-harm, angst, slash and all that other goodstuff.
Disclaimer: I own everything and everyone. I really do. Except the lyrics, which belong to the Cruxshadows. And the characters, which belong to J.K.R. But everything else... I own.
Author's Note: This is my first fiction in a while, so please forgive my rusty...ness. If you find a down-right stupid error in my writing, do be a doll and let me know. All mistakes are of my own stupidty. Flames will be used to light my candles and incense.
Prolouge: Cruelty
No hand to scribe, the sinking sickness I have seen
No face to judge until you've been the monster I have been
To hunger is noble, where beauty is silent sleep
My hunger is noble, but my pain is driven deep.
Yet another day gone, so much like the sun behind the Dark Forest. He could see the trees swaying in the wind, a storm sure to follow. Reddish-orange hue's outlined the darkened trees as if some great fire had been lit in the heavens, and the trees were merely laying in wait. He then noticed the ever darkening stretch of sky rolling in, coming to put out the fire. Coming to blot out the sun, the light. The sky was becoming ever so much darker; ever so much like his soul... He sighed. Metaphors were irrelevant now, with everything seeming a paradox in itself. Little cherub faces running around, all aglow and smiling with innocence. Little cherub faces, sneaking off to the darkest corners of the castle doing whatever, or whoever, their little hearts desired. Evil potions master, lurking about the dungeons, pissing and moaning about the waking world. Evil potions master, wishing so much that the Dark would leave him ... or that the Light would leave everyone else so that he not feel so cheap, so used, so ... dirty.
It was true, he was indeed once a bad guy. Most would retort that he still is, and he really did nothing to change their minds. He lived up to his reputation as 'the Bat,' what with his flowing robes and his swooping upon innocent children who connive and snicker amongst themselves. He lived down in the dungeons, where daylight surely did not reach; where darkness sipped tea with the Boogie Man, and chatted nonsense with Death. That was the life of the Potions Master, the Bat. Or so everyone assumed.
Though yes, it was dark and quite filled with the scents of decay and rosemary, of opium and honeysuckle, did that really make one such a bad person? Of course not. It was the person's life, their present, their future ... and their past. And Severus Snape did have one Hell of a past. One that everyone knew, causing an air of distrust and hostility to surround him where ever he went. Of course there were those select few who trusted him; Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall... some other assorted Hogwarts professors. But for every one trusting human being, there were thousands of others who thought that he should be locked up in Azkaban, given to the Dementors and put out of mind forever. He knew, oh did he know, that nothing could be done to change these people's mind. He could have gotten down on bended knee in front of Harry-Bane-of-his-Existance-Potter and kissed the very floor that he walked on, and people would still go on thinking nothing but the worst of him. So what was the point in acting as if anyone really cared about him? Why not act like a royal asshole, and then at least deserve the cruelty he received from his fellow humans? It all made perfect sense, really.
So he sighed, once more, for his life devoid of any true happiness. Looking back at the sky, he saw that the darkness had officially conquered the Sun's vibrant light show. He shook his head and looked around. How long had he been standing still in this corridor, gazing out at the above heavens, his thoughts lost in something not entirely new to him? Had anyone seen him? Looking around, he concluded that he had not been spotted and heaved a sigh of relief. 'What would the neighbors think?' he thought sardonically, and allowed himself a bitter smile. His classic smirk. He knew people thought he was smirking at the supposed display of human stupidity all around him, and sometimes he was. But for the most part, he upturned the corners of his mouth at the dry humor of his passing thoughts, usually poking fun at himself. He had to allow himself some semblance of normalcy, no matter how abnormal it may have seemed to anyone else. So he continued to smirk to himself, while making his way down the hall with a turn to the right and deep into his much beloved cells of darkness and magikal fumes.
Cruelty and consequence-cannot eliminate this relevance
Your selfishness, your hatefulness cannot take away my immanence
Cruelty and consequence-cannot eliminate this relevance
Your selfishness, your hatefulness cannot take away my innocence from me
Coming upon the Potions Master in the corridor, Harry quickly (and quietly) decided that he had better find another way to the Gryffindor commons, unless he felt like loosing a few points for his house and earning a detention or two. He made a quick turn 'round, not realizing that the stairways were in the midst of changing themselves for, it seemed like, the millionth time that day. It was quite queer how the staircases worked, and Harry was soon to take note of it. Somedays they moved hundreds of times, confusing the Hell out of teacher and student alike. Then there were some days that the staircases stayed in place, much to the pleasure of everyone else involved. This was not one of those days.
Harry assumed the noise of the stairs would most certainly send the Bat of a professor heading his way in a flurry of quick witted insults and flowing ebony robes, but such was not the case. Peeking over his shoulder, he saw what seemed to be the Potions Master deep in thought. What's more, he saw what seemed to be the Potions Master without a look of utter contempt on his face. Not only the lack of contempt was noticed, but the presence of ... dare it be ... understanding? Something along those lines. But an understanding for what...? As Harry continued to watch he saw the signs of despair, envy, acceptance dance upon the man's features, leaving Harry utterly confused and confounded.
With a tight locking sound, Harry noticed that the staircases were done moving for the time being, thus signaling that Harry should hurry on to his commons lest Snape break from his contemplative state and spot him. Hurrying down the stairs, his thoughts were not on anything else but the man he was leaving behind.
So what did everyone think? Like it, hate it? Whichever it be, be a good little mortal and review. It would be ever so lovely, and the favour shall most greatly be returned ::seductive wink:: The second chapter is soon to be underway, whether you want it or not....
Cheers,
- sarah
by: Marilyn, My Bitterness
Summary: We're all so used to the 'Snape-Saves-Harry' drabble, but what happens when the tables are turned?
Rated: R for language, self-harm, angst, slash and all that other goodstuff.
Disclaimer: I own everything and everyone. I really do. Except the lyrics, which belong to the Cruxshadows. And the characters, which belong to J.K.R. But everything else... I own.
Author's Note: This is my first fiction in a while, so please forgive my rusty...ness. If you find a down-right stupid error in my writing, do be a doll and let me know. All mistakes are of my own stupidty. Flames will be used to light my candles and incense.
Prolouge: Cruelty
No hand to scribe, the sinking sickness I have seen
No face to judge until you've been the monster I have been
To hunger is noble, where beauty is silent sleep
My hunger is noble, but my pain is driven deep.
Yet another day gone, so much like the sun behind the Dark Forest. He could see the trees swaying in the wind, a storm sure to follow. Reddish-orange hue's outlined the darkened trees as if some great fire had been lit in the heavens, and the trees were merely laying in wait. He then noticed the ever darkening stretch of sky rolling in, coming to put out the fire. Coming to blot out the sun, the light. The sky was becoming ever so much darker; ever so much like his soul... He sighed. Metaphors were irrelevant now, with everything seeming a paradox in itself. Little cherub faces running around, all aglow and smiling with innocence. Little cherub faces, sneaking off to the darkest corners of the castle doing whatever, or whoever, their little hearts desired. Evil potions master, lurking about the dungeons, pissing and moaning about the waking world. Evil potions master, wishing so much that the Dark would leave him ... or that the Light would leave everyone else so that he not feel so cheap, so used, so ... dirty.
It was true, he was indeed once a bad guy. Most would retort that he still is, and he really did nothing to change their minds. He lived up to his reputation as 'the Bat,' what with his flowing robes and his swooping upon innocent children who connive and snicker amongst themselves. He lived down in the dungeons, where daylight surely did not reach; where darkness sipped tea with the Boogie Man, and chatted nonsense with Death. That was the life of the Potions Master, the Bat. Or so everyone assumed.
Though yes, it was dark and quite filled with the scents of decay and rosemary, of opium and honeysuckle, did that really make one such a bad person? Of course not. It was the person's life, their present, their future ... and their past. And Severus Snape did have one Hell of a past. One that everyone knew, causing an air of distrust and hostility to surround him where ever he went. Of course there were those select few who trusted him; Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall... some other assorted Hogwarts professors. But for every one trusting human being, there were thousands of others who thought that he should be locked up in Azkaban, given to the Dementors and put out of mind forever. He knew, oh did he know, that nothing could be done to change these people's mind. He could have gotten down on bended knee in front of Harry-Bane-of-his-Existance-Potter and kissed the very floor that he walked on, and people would still go on thinking nothing but the worst of him. So what was the point in acting as if anyone really cared about him? Why not act like a royal asshole, and then at least deserve the cruelty he received from his fellow humans? It all made perfect sense, really.
So he sighed, once more, for his life devoid of any true happiness. Looking back at the sky, he saw that the darkness had officially conquered the Sun's vibrant light show. He shook his head and looked around. How long had he been standing still in this corridor, gazing out at the above heavens, his thoughts lost in something not entirely new to him? Had anyone seen him? Looking around, he concluded that he had not been spotted and heaved a sigh of relief. 'What would the neighbors think?' he thought sardonically, and allowed himself a bitter smile. His classic smirk. He knew people thought he was smirking at the supposed display of human stupidity all around him, and sometimes he was. But for the most part, he upturned the corners of his mouth at the dry humor of his passing thoughts, usually poking fun at himself. He had to allow himself some semblance of normalcy, no matter how abnormal it may have seemed to anyone else. So he continued to smirk to himself, while making his way down the hall with a turn to the right and deep into his much beloved cells of darkness and magikal fumes.
Cruelty and consequence-cannot eliminate this relevance
Your selfishness, your hatefulness cannot take away my immanence
Cruelty and consequence-cannot eliminate this relevance
Your selfishness, your hatefulness cannot take away my innocence from me
Coming upon the Potions Master in the corridor, Harry quickly (and quietly) decided that he had better find another way to the Gryffindor commons, unless he felt like loosing a few points for his house and earning a detention or two. He made a quick turn 'round, not realizing that the stairways were in the midst of changing themselves for, it seemed like, the millionth time that day. It was quite queer how the staircases worked, and Harry was soon to take note of it. Somedays they moved hundreds of times, confusing the Hell out of teacher and student alike. Then there were some days that the staircases stayed in place, much to the pleasure of everyone else involved. This was not one of those days.
Harry assumed the noise of the stairs would most certainly send the Bat of a professor heading his way in a flurry of quick witted insults and flowing ebony robes, but such was not the case. Peeking over his shoulder, he saw what seemed to be the Potions Master deep in thought. What's more, he saw what seemed to be the Potions Master without a look of utter contempt on his face. Not only the lack of contempt was noticed, but the presence of ... dare it be ... understanding? Something along those lines. But an understanding for what...? As Harry continued to watch he saw the signs of despair, envy, acceptance dance upon the man's features, leaving Harry utterly confused and confounded.
With a tight locking sound, Harry noticed that the staircases were done moving for the time being, thus signaling that Harry should hurry on to his commons lest Snape break from his contemplative state and spot him. Hurrying down the stairs, his thoughts were not on anything else but the man he was leaving behind.
So what did everyone think? Like it, hate it? Whichever it be, be a good little mortal and review. It would be ever so lovely, and the favour shall most greatly be returned ::seductive wink:: The second chapter is soon to be underway, whether you want it or not....
Cheers,
- sarah