A story that wouldn't leave me alone.

The Harry Potter Universe belongs to JK Rowling.

Flight to Freedom

Severus Snape looked over his shoulder at the reflection of his bare back in the locker room mirror and scowled. An ugly purple bruise the size of a grapefruit glared back at him. Practice had been hell, as usual. Captain Rookwood was not taking the team's loss to Ravenclaw well and chose to take out his frustration on his teammates. Although Severus had caught the snitch, Ravenclaw's superior strategy had left Slytherin in the dust.

Severus sneered to himself, I was just trying to save our team from further embarrassment.

However, his contempt for his team wilted into deep self-loathing. None of his teammates liked him. He had been Slytherin's Seeker since his second year and in his career had more catches than anyone—even more than Potter. But none of his teammates respected him, much less the rest of the school. It was true that Slytherins were not team players, but the way they treated him made him sick inside.

Severus took off the rest of his baggy, school-lent uniform and tossed it down with disgust. It was because of his holey dull green uniform and a broom that was ancient when his mother had used it at school. Bloody snobs. And jealousy of course—no, who would be jealous of him? His broomstick was knobby and was missing several twigs. There was a bloody little branch with leaves growing on it for Merlin's sake! Yes, he could make the catches, but he looked like a fool. Who wants to cheer for the gangly kid on a bucking broomstick who nearly falls to his death every time he goes for the snitch?

Maybe I should just fall to my death one of these times. Then everyone will cheer for me and really mean it.

Severus put on his shabby robes, ignoring his aching muscles as he trudged down to the common room.

xxx

"WAKE UP SNAPE!" Rookwood roared as he zoomed past.

Severus floated, dazed, ear throbbing painfully. Oh yes, he was at Quidditch practice again wasn't he? Gryffindor and Slytherin were meant to play each other for the Cup next week, not that he gave a damn, he did not give much of a damn for anything anymore. Not since the coldly worded St. Mungo's letter detailing his mother's fate. Not since pretty green eyes looked at him with only contempt and a trace of fear.

He lazily contemplated cursing Rookwood with his new Sectumsempra spell but decided it was not worth the effort. He willed his protesting broom to drift upward. He was almost at his desired altitude when to comets rocketed past him. They were blurs but Severus could recognize their cruel laughter anywhere. Black and Potter.

The pair stopped so the Slytherin team could get a good look at them. Severus heard Crabbe gasp, "They have Nimbus 500s…those aren't even supposed to be out yet!"

"Now, now," Potter smirked and pushed a hand through his hair at his rivals remarks of contempt and awe, "No need to get excited, Sirius and just thought we'd join you for practice. Perhaps we could give you a few tips."

The team gave a collective snarl but Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. These people didn't know the half of what the sadistic, murderous duo were capable of. They were being quite tame compared to the usual beatings and embarrassments they so graciously bestowed upon him.

"Really Potter, are you so uncertain about the match that you got daddy to buy you new brooms?" he sneered as Potter flushed and Black made to lunge at him.

Potter stopped his sidekick and turned his flustered expression into a smirk, "Why hello Snivvly, you're looking miserable today."

Potter turned to Black conversationally and Severus's stomach turned. They had planned whatever it was they were going to say and whenever they planned Severus ended up in pain.

"Y'know Padfoot, I feel terribly about mocking Snivellus's abysmal Quidditch abilities. He's part of a family legacy in the sport did you know?" Potter said carelessly.

"Oh yeah, his mum was right? A Beater. I saw her picture in trophy room," Black chortled, "She was built like an ox."

Severus winced as he heard Crabbe snort. He glared coldly at the two and slid his hand around the wand in his pocket.

"Sirius!" James scolded, "You're too caught up in appearances. Sniv's mum was an excellent Beater. She was passionate about the sport, some would say her passion bordered on psychotic."

"Oh my," Black mocked.

"Yes, a bit self-destructive on the field. Old Sluggy had to remove her from the team because--"

"REDUCTO!" the curse blasted from Severus's wand but the two zipped away.

"And that brings us to our first Quidditch lesson for you: dodging!" James crowed, throwing out several curses.

The pitch erupted into chaos as curses began flying every which way. Potter and Black easily dispatched the Slytherin team one by one. Severus clung to his broom, which was bucking and jerking from all the magic flying through the atmosphere. He shot a few futile curses in their direction. And then he saw Black.

The other boy was hurtling toward him with a look of mad murderous glee in his eyes, it was the same look he often saw Bellatrix with. Severus knew he would die. His broom flew like a moth in a thunderstorm compared to Black's. The other boy would expect and easily dodge a spell. He would knock Severus off into oblivion.

However, one thing Potter and Black did was give him to keep his ability to feel. Granted, that feeling was black hatred but it was better than feeling numb and cold all the time. People like Potter and Black gave him the will to keep on living as much as they crushed it. He lived to spite people like them. He lived to prove them wrong and left wanting.

Severus stood up on his broom. He had read about this move in a Quidditch book in the Restricted section, written before fools decided the game should have gentler rules. Severus had eagerly practiced it at lower altitudes.

Black began to laugh as he saw the boy perched like an awkward bird on the wobbly broom. But his glee turned to disbelief turned as Severus hopped off the broom and grabbed it so he hung by his hands. He pulled the broom toward himself, and as he began to fall, swung it like a club at Black. There was a gratifying crack and a howl of pain. Sirius whirled away and landed painfully on the stands, clutching his arm. Severus plummeted a few sickening feet before regaining control of his broom.

"Sirius!" Potter cried, barely avoiding a hex by Rookwood as he swooped down to his friend.

The two stood on the Quidditch stands and glared defiantly at the regrouping Slytherins. Potter helped Black back onto his brooms and they left in defeat communicating with their enemies with a look that said: We'll finish this at the match, you're going to bleed. The Slytherins glared back with as much ire.

As they slowly flew away they locked eyes with Severus. They boys were locked in a stare of pure hatred with Black mouthing the words, "You're dead Snivellus."

xxx

Severus curled up tightly on his bed after waking yet again from a restless sleep. He was dreading the dawn, like he did every night. The sick feeling had come back. He just felt so sick and he had driven away the only person who had cared enough to help him.

What am I going to do?

The future was black and bleak. He was too poor and unconnected to go to university, not that that would improve his situation. All he had was a filthy shack at Spinners End and a father who was finally ready to drink himself to death. He was too cruel to be loved and too brittle to change. How he wished he could be better!

There's just no way out is there?

Severus shivered and shut his eyes tighter as rosy sunlight crept through the window.

Why did she have to jump? Did she not love me enough to stay? Maybe she just wanted to feel free for a moment…I can understand that.

Oh, there was a Quidditch match today, wasn't there?

xxx

Severus watched absently as Frank Longbottom was carried off the field clutching his side after being hit with one of Goyle's Bludgers. This match was one of the bloodiest in Hogwarts' recent history. As the war outside intensified, so did the relations between the students.

He allowed himself a small smile as Rookwood slammed into Black, nearly knocking boy off his broom.

"Oh! And a personal foul on Black by Captain Death Eater Rookwood!" the announcer snarled.

"FINNEGAN!" McGonagall roared and cast muffliato on the rather biased though not incorrect announcer.

Severus sighed as Potter decided to fly several circles and loop-de-loops around him and his woefully inadequate broom. The crowd roared with laughter. Severus bared his teeth and climbed upward to escape his taunts but Potter followed him easily. Soon, the two enemies were in the thick clouds that graced the chilly day.

Potter zipped by, "Alright there Snivellus? How's the Dark Lord?"

"Just fine," Severus growled, "Kinder than you and Black at any rate."

Potter faltered as the two slowly circled each other. He had expected the other's tone to be more sarcastic. He tried something he knew would get a response, "Now that's just crazy...but I guess it runs in the family," he drawled.

"MY MOTHER IS DEAD!" Severus bellowed and the smirk disappeared from Potter's face.

"And the Dark Lord didn't kill her. A drunken bastard killed her. The Dark Lord didn't make my only friend loathe me. I did," he looked down before retraining his glare on Potter, "The Dark Lord didn't make the only place that is supposed to be safe a living hell each day."

Potter paled and seemed to stare through Severus when the bleak sun caught something golden on the ground. It caught both of the boys' sharp eyes. The Snitch.

Potter looked at Severus and said, "No he didn't," he said quietly, "But you're wrong Sniv—Snape, the Dark Lord is evil, and you're evil for following him. You—you deserve what you get!" he snapped and set his jaw grimly, "I'll beat you."

Potter flew into a steep dive and Severus lunged after. He inclined his broom even more steeply to catch up with the faster boy. Potter growled and went further down. Severus went further. Potter went—the crowd shrieked. Potter lost control of his broom and pulled of his dive, he spun wildly into several spectators.

Severus realized he was now in freefall, totally vertical. He did not think he could pull up but he did not really mind. It had been so long since he so felt good, almost happy. The wind grazed him gently and whistled pleasantly in his ears. It was freedom.

The ground looked so welcoming, he wanted to embrace it. This was his way out, this was what he was going to do, whatever future he had on this earth was much more likely to be worse than whatever awaited him in the next. It was easier this way, he didn't need to try, just be free. He vaguely heard the crowd's gasps and shouts. He realized he had shut his eyes for a time.

Severus opened his eyes and was jolted into reality. A pair of fearful green eyes stared into his, but they held more than fear. They held something his mother had when she looked at his father sometimes. She was screaming. "NO" that's what she was screaming. Severus reached out.

The broom gave a loud snap in protest before whipping horizontal to the ground. Severus's back and head scraped painfully on the jagged earth before he shot upwards. He sat on his boom with both legs swung over the side. He contemplated the Snitch fluttering feebly in his hand. It looked broken, as if someone tossed it aside in a fit of neglect. His back and head felt sticky with blood and he noticed that the stadium had gone completely silent. He opened his hand and let the Snitch flutter away.

The broom gave a low whine before dropping beneath him, but Severus floated without its help. He did not question how as he descended slowly, he had other things on his mind. He would be free in this world or no world at all he decided and he would do to any means to achieve it. And he would live until he found someone who would look at him so and that he could look upon.

He ignored the teachers who were shouting and rushing toward him.

"You almost died! What were you thinking?"

"Snape, say something boy!"

He paused as Dumbledore stepped quietly in front of him. He raised an eyebrow, "Oh, now you wish to meddle? Step aside."

The old man contemplated him for a long moment before complying, much to Severus's surprise and relief. He would never know that the Headmaster would regret that choice for the rest of his life.

Severus Snape walked himself to the hospital wing.

xxx

"You play Quidditch like your mother," Slughorn had said before quickly backpedaling, "What I mean to say is that you are a fine Quidditch player like her. However, I cannot allow you to remain on the team next year. It's my responsibility to see my Slytherins are safe you must understand."

"I understand," Severus said flatly.

He had received a card and a letter from her, from Lily. She had poured her heart out, saying she wished to befriend him again. It was not pity, it was sincere. It used to be Severus's greatest wish, but when he saw it he sighed.

He opened the climbed up on the windowsill by his cot and hopped out. He floated several stories up—he would have to check the library on this newfound ability—and headed toward Gryffindor tower.

Lily gasped as she saw Severus tapping on her window, she crept out of bed so as not to wake her roommates. She opened the window.

"Sev! What—how?"

"Lily, thank you."

"Thank you? What do have to thank me for? Are you al--"

"I have everything to thank you for of course," Severus snorted.

Lily sighed, "Sev…"

"Listen. I don't want to see you again," he forced himself to look at her, "I am on the path to the Dark Lord and I'll only hurt you worse than before. Let's just remember each other as kids. Let's remember swing sets and summertime, okay."

"You don't have to, Sev. You don't have to go--"

"I want to go," he snapped, "I want what he has…but, he's just a means to end. Remember, if you have to think of me as I am now—I am free, he will never be my master, no one will. My only master," he gave a wry little smile, "will be death. Good-bye Lily."

And she quietly watched him fly away.

Severus floated above the highest tower and enjoyed how calm the night was. He let himself fall toward the lake and let his finger tips break the water's surface. It was cold. He soared upward into the cloudy sky and disappeared from the world below, for a time.

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