Please Read:

The style this story is written in may be confusing at first. I'm attempting to emulate a one-sided conversation between Severus and his therapist, Mr. Clarke, with no action or quotations at all. What specific questions Mr. Clarke asks you'll have to figure out for yourself, based on Snape's answers. It's just Snape, in his own words, being Snape.

Enjoy.

atonement
[1]

Professor Severus Tobias Snape. Take a seat, if you wish.

I would extend to you the same courtesy if you were not being strong-armed into coming here. The Ministry's petition was very specific, unfortunately. It appears as though we will be seeing rather a lot of each other—once a week for ninety weeks.

I dislike talking about myself.

I can assure you, everything you would need to know about me has already been written, either by the Prophet or other, more credible sources. There is very little about my background that people do not know, or pretend that they know. With a bit of research you can save on questions, and I can spend our weekly sessions brewing instead of talking.

What would you like to know about Dumbledore? He was a well-respected individual, unorthodox and relatively insane, while remaining good-natured and I believe he meant well, through it all. He gave me a chance when not many other people would, and for that, I owe him my gratitude.

Yes, I killed him. Under his orders. If this therapy session is to turn into an interrogation, might I recommend you read the transcript of the Wizengamot's Veritaserum examination? I was unable to lie then, but within the confines of my own house, within my own wards, I am under no such control. Consider yourself fortunate that I am currently unable to use Occlumency. Otherwise this would be a rather one-sided conversation, don't you think?

Your handwriting is atrocious. And you spelled 'defensive' incorrectly.

If you do not wish for me to read your notes, I would suggest disappearing ink. But judging from the wear and tear on your jumper cuffs, I can only imagine a Galleon for a bottle must be too high of a price. No matter. Poverty is an ugly thing, isn't it? It clings to your soul and the shame of it lingers, long past your financial strain. Even when money is plentiful you still remember hungry nights and cold suppers, don't you? They're not easy memories.

Of course I speak from experience. It was not an insult, merely a remark.

Oh, yes, let's talk about The Chosen One, shall we? The great and magnificent Potter. I think little of him—he survives only by the fortune of the universe and the considerable talent of those around him. Without these safety nets he would have been destroyed as a babe.

Does it sound as though I mean him any ill will?

Ridiculous. I wish nothing of the kind. The Dark Lord was a tyrant and a monster, there is little doubt about that, and the world is better off with one less terrorist. While I have my own personal issues with Potter and his friends, the quote - "Golden Trio" – end quote, as I believe the media is calling them, I remain an ever staunch supporter of his actions against the Dark Lord. I merely wish the Prophet would recognize those around him, and realize that there was very little Potter himself accomplished without aid.

Hah! I believe the media has covered my own side of the story well enough, don't you think? I would prefer less attention. But the Order of Phoenix, the professors at Hogwarts, and Dumbledore himself, they could all deserve more credit than the worshipped Potter. To hear the papers talk, Potter alone defended Hogwarts and was killed in the line of battle, setting of an explosion that defeated the Dark Lord and brought him back to life. It's ridiculously blown out of proportion.

Bitter? Me? No. Wherever did you get that idea?

Clearly you do not appreciate sarcasm. Few do.

I am bitter for a number of reasons. Life has treated me poorly and in return, I treat others in a similar fashion. I have spent my life protecting an ungrateful and reprehensible brat, who stands on the shoulders of his mother's sacrifice; I have had people taken from me, I have killed more people than I wish to count, I have been tortured and tested and tried, I have slaved away for a man who did not trust nor like me, and I have given my all to save the Wizarding World. The world is full of bleeding hearts, who wish and hope and pray for a better world, and then there are people like me, who are unafraid to spill blood and see that things get done.

But when the dust settles and the ashes clear, who is put on the pedestals? The ones wearing kid gloves, who shot sparks and held hands and dried tears. Not the ones who fought and bled and died! What do I receive for my punishments? I receive a bloody inquisition from the Wizengamot and become stripped from my post, my stature, and my life. I must serve ninety hours of community service and undergo therapy, because clearly I am some frail damaged being who cannot see past the next day! I have my scars, Mister Clarke, and I have long ago learned to deal with them! Because that is what one does! At the end of the day you try to forget about what you have done, who you have betrayed, what you have killed, because that is what happens!

I am not ANGRY!

I am not angry.

You misunderstand me. I do not wish for the stature Potter has. I wish to be left alone. Give me back my teaching post, allow me my old quarters, let me study and learn and teach in peace. There is knowledge I have left to impart upon the world, and although my students have largely been loathsome, they all contain a bit of my knowledge. My legacy, if you will. I will teach Potions or Defense Against the Dark Arts, I have experience with both, but no. The Ministry locks me away in a small flat with no lab or books, with no consideration as to my comforts. I receive a minimum of visitors. I brew in silence, with what abysmal few resources I have. I am not lonely, Mister Clarke, for I am a creature of solitude, but I have no discussion.

This is hardly a discussion.

Who visits me? Miss Granger, upon occasion. Her self-flagellating little visits are her penance, her way of reminding herself that she once believed me the enemy. And in some ways, still does. She amuses me. Potter attempted to visit me once but I threw him out.

Because he is a snotty little upstart, and I had no desire to deal with his cockiness for an afternoon.

Not many others stop past this place. Arthur Weasley, who is seldom interesting and often absentminded. Minerva McGonagall, who is a proud woman to whom I owe a great deal, and it is her visits I enjoy the most.

Minerva is a rival of mine. A greatly judgmental creature to Slytherins, I extended the same courtesy to her Gryffindors. Of all the staff at Hogwarts I believe she trusted me the most, and felt the most betrayed by my apparent disloyalty. But things are not always as they appear, are they? I am…I can admit I am rather fond of Minerva. She is getting on in years, and I will be disheartened to see a world without her in it.

So surprised, Mister Clarke? I have emotions besides bitterness and sarcasm.

Hah! You make me laugh. Don't be absurd, there is little love left in me, but I suppose it extends to the final people who show me kindness, being Minerva, and perhaps Miss Granger.

I feel no pity. Others should feel no pity for me. I am no hero, Mister Clarke, and never wish to be called one. There are other "heroes of the war", and I am not one of them, but I wish to be left alone by the Ministry. This so-called therapy will do nothing for me, and little for you.

I believe this is the end of our session, Mister Clarke, you can show yourself out.

So, was that too confusing? I reread Catcher in the Rye a few days ago and it made me start writing streams of consciousness, which is a difficult style of writing to emulate. It eventually developed into stories like this—one sided conversations between two people, and you only hear from one side of the story. I hope it's clear enough. Hopefully I'll get better at writing like this. As always I heap boxes of chocolates upon the head of my beta, araeofsomething, who thrashed my vagueness and made things much more understandable. -nylex