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Mudblood
"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" I shouted. I had my own wand out now. Potter and Black eye it warily.
"Ah Evans, don't make me hex you," said Potter earnestly.
"Take the curse off him, then!"
Potter sighed deeply, then turned to Severus and muttered the counter-curse.
"There you go," he said, as Severus struggled to his feet. "You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus –"
"I don't need help from filthy Mudbloods like her!"
The scene plays incessantly through my mind like a movie, and the word rings over and over again like a broken record, immune to my various attempts to block it out.
"I don't need help from filthy Mudbloods like her!"
Mudblood.
Mudblood.
Mudblood.
I throw myself onto my bed and bury my face in the pillow. I press myself further and further into the pillow, as though I wished to suffocate this horrible feeling out of myself. Then, in a bout of undiluted fury, I grab and fling it violently across the room and watched as it crashed into the wooden door with an unsatisfying 'thud' before sliding onto the floor where it remained as motionless as ever.
"Severus Snape, you stupid, fucking bastard!" I yell, and wince as my throat almost rips.
"Lils? Are you okay?" Mary's voice is muffled by the door.
"No!" I scream. "Nothing will ever, ever be okay again, and it's all because of him!" My voice breaks then, and I sob, holding my head in my hands as my shoulders heave.
She enters the room and pulls me into a tight hug straightaway. Mumbling nonsense words of comfort into my ear, she rubs gentle little circles on my back as she brushes my fiery hair back, away from my tear-stained face, occasionally agreeing with my furiously-muttered insults.
Strangely, I find, it actually does help.
It seems like forever before my sobs lessen to sniffles and Mary pulls away. "Better?" she asks me.
Unable to speak just yet, I nod. I wipe the remnants of the tears off with the back of my hand.
"That's good." She smiles and pats my head tenderly. "It'll be better soon."
I don't know what to say in response to that, so I remain silent. The next thing I hear is the door clicking shut again, as footsteps padded down the stairs to the common room.
What was that saying again? Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me?
I scoff. Lies. It was all just a huge bunch of bloody lies.
That one word has caused me more pain than any rock ever will, I'm quite certain.
An owl taps on the window, but I was not in the mood to care. I groan and roll over, mumbling incoherently.
Tap.
Tap. Tap.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
"Oh Merlin, all right, all right! I'm coming! Enough already! Geez!" I grumble irritably. So much for patience being a virtue. The owl at the window was ridiculously impatient. Swiping my wand clumsily off the bedside table, I grudgingly let the blasted bird in.
It darts into the room, lands on my bed and holds out one claw. I detach the missive with nimble fingers and the regal tawny owl flies back outside with a soft hoot.
Distractedly, I shut the open window with a wave of my wand before scanning the message. It takes me but an instant to recognise the tight, skinny letters that were Severus Snape's penmanship.
I scowl, but finish reading it anyway.
"What do you want, Snape?" I wince; the words sound unexpectedly harsh, even for me. On seeing his flinch, however, I swallow the apology that was on the tip of my tongue.
You deserve no sympathy from me, you bastard. You're lucky I even decided to meet you here.
The spiteful side of me rears its ugly head and cheers.
"Lils, I –" he begins, a scrawny arm reaching out towards me.
"No," I cut him off, taking a step backwards away from him, and he drops his hand. "No more Lils, no more Lily. It's Evans now, Snape." I practically spit out his last name to emphasise my point.
That clearly took the wind out of his sails, I notice with a sort of vindictive glee, as he splutters while attempting some sort of coherency.
"You – you can't just –" He stumbles over his words, dark eyes wide with shock.
"Me?" The laugh that escapes my lips is bitter. "It was never me, Snape. It was all you - your words, your tongue." I arch my eyebrow just a little, daring him to contradict me; taunting, provoking, goading. Just try me.
He doesn't rise to the bait, disappointingly. Instead, he bows his head, his long hair falling forward to shield his pale, sallow face. His shoulders hunch and his whole body seems to curl in on itself.
"I'm sorry, Li – Evans," he chokes out about a minute later, his voice, remarkably, is just a tiny bit shaky. I hear the slip; notice how he almost calls me Lily.
I ignore it.
I ignore him.
"Please. I'm sorry," he tries again. This time, his voice is steadier and surer.
I decide to deign his efforts with a curt response. "No."
His face is the epitome of puzzlement, so I elaborate. "You shouldn't be sorry."
"What?" comes his startled reply, expression uncomprehending.
I roll my eyes heavenward. Very articulate, I sneer in my mind. "I said, you shouldn't be sorry," I repeated, taking care to carefully enunciate every syllable, as though speaking to a toddler.
"No, no, I got that part," he rushes to say. "But I don't understand – why shouldn't I be sorry?"
"Why?" My face is a blank mask; unreadable. "Do you really have to ask? Why should you be sorry? You say it to everyone with muggle parents! Don't think I didn't notice," I add, seeing his mouth open in retort.
He closes his mouth.
"So then pray tell, Snape, why should I be any different? I really am, after all, a Mudblood," I hiss threateningly. My eyes ablaze, I favour him with one of the fiercest glares I can muster. "Are you this sorry, or even sorry at all, every time you call someone a Mudblood, sneering at him or her as though that person was worth even less than a patch of mud on the sole of your shoe?"
"I don't – it was a mistake!" I see it in his eyes, his body language, pleading, begging for me to understand. "I was furious; my emotions just got the better of me for that moment – it just slipped out! I didn't mean it, honest!"
"I'm sure you didn't," my tone softens for a moment, and I see a glimmer of hope shine in those onyx eyes. Maybe, just maybe… "But that still doesn't change the fact that you did it." His face falls.
"I'm sor –"
"Oh save it," I snap, tired of his constant apologies. "This isn't something that a simple 'sorry' can fix, Snape."
He flinches, but I pay no heed to it and plough on.
"I've tolerated your choice of friends, Snape. I mean, Avery and Mulciber? Really? They're vile! There is no other word for it! They're mean, cruel and just plain evil. How can you even stand to be around them? And now they've gone and tainted you too! Despite the rivalry between our houses, despite everyone telling me that you weren't worth it, I ignored them and kept our friendship going strong all these five years. I truly valued our bond, Snape. But I've been a fool, haven't I? I was young, a mere child; I was innocent to the point of ignorance. You've gone and proven how daft I had been, how daft I am. Well done." I clap thrice; slowly and sarcastically.
Snape shakes his head in protest. "No, you didn't do anything –"
"Then why?" I scream at him, my voice mangled with grief and frustration and anger all churned together. "Why would you do such a thing? I don't understand – I cannot understand –" I'm panting, salty tears pouring down my face as the anger crumbled away to dust and was replaced by heart breaking sorrow. "Why? Was our friendship just a joke? Was it just entertainment for you, Snape? Was I ever anything more to you than just that Mudblood Gryffindor redhead with a fiery temper who was brilliant at Potions and Charms?"
"No, of course you were, I – I can explain –" He is flustered and his hair messy, giving him a slightly deranged look about him.
I interrupt him again. "There is nothing to explain!" I take a deep, trembling breath to collect myself. I slam my fist into the nearby wall, my head coming down to rest on my extended arm as my hair forms a curtain that hides my face from the rest of the world. "Over and over and over again, Snape, I have defended you. I was so utterly convinced that deep down, you were a good person. People were telling me that you wanted to become a Death Eater; to follow Him, but I was adamant, convinced I knew the true you. Maybe, I told them, maybe he's just doing what he has to in order to survive in Slytherin. I sincerely believed that, but how wrong I was." I had been pacing angrily up and down the corridor throughout my speech, waving my arms about in passionate, animated gestures.
"We have to settle this, once and for all, Snape," I whirl around to face him, expression determined.
The moment he makes fearful eye contact, I say, albeit more gently than before, "Are you or are you not intending to become a Death Eater? I need the truth. Please."
I see his hesitation, but it was the 'please' that finally got to him, I think. "I – I… I am," he whispers, so softly that had it not been for our close proximity, I might not have heard him at all. "But I have to! For the sake of my survival." He immediately ducks his head, ashamed, I presume, at that admission.
I swallow painfully; the lump in my throat preventing me from speaking. I had hoped it wouldn't come to this. I guess it was too much to ask. "I… I see. Thank you for being honest with me." I whisper back hoarsely, wiping fiercely at a lone tear that made its way down my cheek. My voice is so… dead, so broken. I turn away from him and begin to walk, ever so slowly, back to my dormitory.
"Wait!" his sudden cry, slicing through the quietness of the corridor like a whip, startles me, and I very nearly jump in surprise. Nearly. "What about us?" He sounds like he's at the end of his tether.
My footsteps halt, but I don't turn around. "Us? What does that even mean?" My low laugh was devoid of any humorous undertones. "If there ever was an 'us', it ended the moment you decided to join the dark side. You have chosen your path, and I have chosen mine; our loyalties lie on opposite sides of the war. We will be but a distant memory." I pause briefly. "But you know," I say tenderly, "We will always have a choice."
I take two steps away from him, flashbacks playing in my head.
When he told me I was a witch, and he was a wizard. That's not a very nice thing to say to people, I cried, offended.
Me grinning, missing tooth and all, when he showed me magic. This is magic. We all have this, you and I, he says, looking up at my reverent expression. We'll go to Hogwarts soon, the best school in the entire universe!
Skipping stones by the brook in the summer of second year and laughing like the children we were.
Him, explaining what Dementors were and reassuring me I would never have to go to Azkaban for underage magic.
By the lake in third year, having a picnic, idly chattering about everything and nothing at all.
Fourth year, and we were in the library discussing our Charms project. I am gesturing animatedly while he looks at me with a small smile upon his thin facial features.
When he said we'll be friends forever that summer, both of us grinning toothily, my petite hand clasped tightly in his larger, rougher one.
So much for that.
"This is it, then. Thank you for everything." I smile at him. Only this time, it's genuine. "Hopefully, when our paths cross again, it'll be in far more favourable circumstances. Until then, I'll never forget you."
"Farewell, Sev."
A/N: Hope you enjoyed the story! The first portion of this one-shot is quoted directly from the books, I don't claim credit! If only I could write like that... *wistful sigh* Anyway, please leave a review and tell me what you think!
Written for the Camp Potter II Challenge on the HPFC forum.
Activity: Archery (Week 2) - One-shots of 2k or more.
Mandatory prompt: Write about the end of a friendship.
Optional prompts used: 1. Brook
2. Sentence: "The owl at the window is/was ridiculously impatient."
3. "Us? What does that even mean?"
4. Settle