The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition- Season 2 Round 5
Team: Falmouth Falcons
Author: MaryRoyale
Position: Reserve for Chaser #3 TheChasm
Round 5 Challenge: Each team was assigned a lesser-known character that had died early in either the First or Second War. The Falmouth Falcons got Evan Rosier who died in 1980.
Chosen Life Event: Making Friends at Hogwarts
Title: Sowing Seeds
Official Disclaimer: The original characters of this story are the property of the J.K. Rowling. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended. It is my contention that this work of fan fiction is fair use under copyright law. No monies received for receipt of this work.
Pairing: None
Rating: T
Word Count: approx. 1300
WARNING: Mention of child abuse, verbal Muggle bashing
A/N: According to Mad-Eye Moody, Evan Rosier fought to the death. He would have been young-about the same age as the Marauders-and he fought Auror Moody to the death. He didn't try to run away, and he refused to yield. From the little info we have, it sounds as though Evan Rosier was a hard-core fanatic for the cause.
I thought that perhaps Snape's home life might feed Rosier's expectations and beliefs. Also… I suspected that 'making friends' might be derided by Slytherins as being "too Hufflepuff". I personally think that there's nothing wrong with making friends, but then again I'm not a junior Death Eater.
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Returning to Hogwarts after Christmas holiday was difficult for every first year student, and Evan was no exception. He loved the familiarity and comfort of the Rosier estate, and he boarded the Hogwarts Express only reluctantly. Through dint of good luck or the auspices of a greater power, Evan found himself in an empty compartment. He flopped on the seat with careless grace and stared out the window. The door to his compartment opened, and Evan turned to the doorway with a small frown. Severus Snape stood uncertainly in the doorway. The other boy wouldn't look at Evan, and instead stared at his feet.
"May I share this compartment with you?" He asked his shoes.
Evan could feel his lip curling into a sneer. "What about your little Mudblood? Wouldn't you rather spend time with her?"
Snape's sallow cheeks turned slightly pink. "I don't want to see her," the boy muttered.
Evan could feel his eyebrows rise in surprise. Interesting. He sighed loudly. "Oh fine. Have a seat."
Snape shuffled into the compartment and awkwardly slid the door shut before shuffling to his seat. When he went to sit down, he made a muffled hissing noise. Evan stared at him for a moment before he turned his attention to the compartment door. He certainly didn't want Snape's Mudblood tracking him down and pushing her way into his compartment. He'd never live down the shame; and if his father caught wind of it! Evan shuddered reflexively. He pointed his wand at the compartment door and murmured under his breath. The door glowed for a brief moment and Evan smirked to himself as he put his wand away.
"What was that?" Snape asked curiously.
"Repelling charm," Evan replied. He picked up one of his Dark Arts books and began to flip through it absently. He glanced up at Snape. "Makes people remember that they urgently need to be elsewhere."
A thoughtful expression came over Snape's features. "Would you teach it to me?" He asked.
One dark brow rose in query. "Why should I?" A Slytherin never gave away information or power. They might trade it, or sell it, but they wouldn't gift it.
"I'll help you with your Potions essay," Snape offered decisively.
Evan snorted. "My essay's already done. Father insisted I do my holiday work straight away." He frowned at Snape. "Don't tell me you didn't do yours."
Deep lines of misery etched themselves in Snape's face. He whispered something and his sallow skin turned a dull red.
"I beg your pardon, I didn't catch that." Evan frowned at the other boy.
Snape shifted nervously and pain flickered in his eyes as he hissed again. He stared at his lap and refused to look at Evan. "My father doesn't like magic," he muttered.
"Your father doesn't…" Evan trailed off and stared at Snape. "You said your mother was a Prince."
"She is," Snape hissed angrily.
"Well, how exactly does that work then?" Evan demanded. "She's a Prince! They're one of the oldest families around."
"He didn't know," Snape confessed. He still refused to look Evan in the eye. He shifted again and bit his lip.
"So he forbid you from doing your homework?" Evan asked incredulously.
Snape shrugged and then hissed. "He… he was furious when the Hogwarts letter came. I tried to do it at night when he was asleep, but he caught me."
"And beat you." Evan stated flatly.
Snape didn't say anything.
"Filthy, disgusting Muggles," Evan muttered. "Father was right. Here, let me see."
Snape looked up at him with horror-filled eyes. "No," he whispered.
Evan made an impatient gesture. "I know several healing spells, or at least enough to make it numb and not hurt as much. Once we reach the castle, Madam Pomfrey can heal it properly."
"No," Snape said more firmly.
"Don't be stupid," Evan snapped. "Just because some horrible, filthy Muggle dared to lay his hands on you doesn't mean you deserve to be in pain, or that you need to conceal it from Madam Pomfrey."
"Promise me you won't tell anyone else," Snape demanded.
"Who would I tell?" Evan asked.
Snape scowled at him. "The rest of our House."
Evan rolled his eyes at him. "No one would be shocked. That's what happens when you breed with scum."
Dull red filled Snape's cheeks again. "That's what I don't want them to know," he whispered. "I don't want them to know that he is my father."
That made sense to Evan so he shrugged. "Very well. I swear on my magic that I won't reveal that Severus Snape's father is a repulsive Muggle." He glowed gold for a moment and then the light faded.
"Thank you."
Carefully, Snape stood and unbuttoned his shirt. He turned around so that Evan could see the livid, angry bruises littering Snape's back. Evan scowled at the bruises. Muggles were everything his Father had said, and more. Cold, furious anger flooded his veins and he lifted his wand. He murmured the numbing spells his mother had taught him when he'd twisted his ankle last summer. Snape's sigh of relief told him that he had executed it perfectly.
Even worse than Snape's back were his buttocks and the backs of his thighs. Evans hissed in displeasure and then cast the numbing spell again. Finally Snape was fully clothed and seat again. He stared at his lap for several long minutes before peeking at Evan through his long, lank hair.
"I hate him," Snape whispered.
Evan snorted. "I'd be more surprised if you didn't."
"My mother," Snape paused and stared at his lap for several long moments. "She was disowned."
"Of course she was." Really, Evan would have been surprised if she hadn't been. The Prince family had been just as proud as any pureblood family. The shame of one of their daughters marrying a Muggle had to be expunged somehow.
"She taught me… things," Snape offered. He peeked up at Evan through his hair.
Evan leaned forward filled with curiosity. "What sorts of things?"
Snape swallowed convulsively and looked out the window. "The Dark Arts," he whispered to the pane.
Excitement filled Evan. He had studied the Dark Arts just like any other pureblood child, but his studies were limited to Rosier family magic. He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "If you teach one of the spells your mother taught you… I'll teach you the repelling charm."
Snape considered his offer and then nodded. "Deal." He frowned slightly and then cocked his head slightly. "This doesn't… are we…"
"Slytherins don't really make friends," Evan explained once he realized what Snape was very carefully not asking. "We gain allies, we curry favor, but we don't generally have friends."
"Oh." The other boy seemed to deflate slightly.
Friendship was not something easily given or taken among purebloods. One who had earned the title 'friend' could call upon one for assistance, and one was honourbound to give it. Every pureblood child was cautioned about making friends, especially among those who might not understand the ramifications of their actions. Evan felt sympathy for Snape who had to maneuver awkwardly through his mother's heritage. He sighed internally and decided to throw the other boy a crumb of comfort.
"Still," Evan continued. "It might happen in the future. Friendship is a serious thing; it requires obligations that one should never give lightly."
Snape nodded. "That makes sense."
"It does. Slytherin is the most logical of all the Houses," Evan sniffed imperiously.
Pride flared in Snape's eyes and he nodded again. The boys spent the rest of the ride sharing secrets and learning more about one another. Among Slytherins friendship could not be given in a day, but Evan willingly sowed the seeds. Who knew? Perhaps Snape's friendship might prove useful someday.