The usual disclaimers that none of these characters belong to me, much as I wish Harry did. Enjoy!
To Live Again
By: CNJ
PG-13
Severus:
I finish reading the owl from Professor Dumbledore and sit back, running a hand through my thick black, rather oily hair. Albus and Minerva McGonagall have been worried about one of our students, Harry Potter. If the truth be told, I'm also concerned. Yes, me. To most casual observers, I seem to hate Harry and most of the Gryffindor students.
But an incident last year changed things between Potter and me. When I first saw Harry almost six years ago, the boy definitely had brought back unwelcome memories of my Hogwarts days, especially since his late father, James Potter had been in my class.
Along with his clique, who called themselves the Marauders, James had tormented other students, including me. I still bristle and cringe inside remembering their cruel taunts and nicknaming me Snivellus. It was so awful. I try not to think about it. But lately, the memories have been shoving their way into my subconscious.
I have noticed that Harry seems downcast lately, especially yesterday in class. He was once a rather cheeky lad, but lately has been withdrawn, walking slowly with slumped shoulders. Now and then, against my will, I've caught a sad, lost expression in his deep green eyes.
The incident I refer to last year was when I'd been teaching Harry occulemency lessons to help him control his mind and nightmares. I'd had to leave the room for a while to check on an emergency and when I'd come back, I'd seen Potter gazing into my pensieve with my worst memory of his father.
I'd been furious and had thought he was looking in for filth on me to rat off to the others. I'd had to wrestle with the urge to grab his skinny neck and throttle him right there. I'd yanked him back, yelling at him, but instead of the gleeful grin or insolent smirk I'd expected to see on his face, I'd been surprised to see pain and sadness in his large pine-green eyes. Those large serious green eyes took me off guard especially since they are very unlike James Potter's eyes. He'd fled from the room, dropping a jar of roaches, but the sad eyes behind his thick glasses had haunted me for a long time.
I'd avoided him for the rest of that year and to my relief, he didn't approach me about continuing the lessons. In fact, he couldn't seem to look me in the eyes at all.
Yes, more and more, I see major differences between Harry Potter and James Potter. Harry, although he is rather a sloppy underachiever, is brighter and more serious-minded than James ever was.
I mull over this as I head to the classroom to begin another day of Potions. I quietly watch the sixth years come in, Harry along with two of his friends. Harry walks slowly and he seems to be wary of the environment. As if he expects to be clobbered, I think.
I fight back the memory of when I constantly sized up the environment, on the constant lookout for snickers, whispers of Snivellus, the Marauders, and perhaps my worst enemy, Lucius Malfoy. Luckily, Lucius had been three years older than me, so I hadn't been trapped in any classes with him.
Lucius, unfortunately, popped up in my life when I'd had a close scrape with death eaters, then the same year that Harry entered here, his own son, Draco entered. No one knows this, but Lucius had threatened to turn me over the Voldemort if I didn't grant his spoiled arrogant son special favors. That meant giving Draco grades he didn't earn and helping Lucius buy his son a spot on the Quidditch team, although I really don't think Draco deserves any of it.
I look at Draco now, sauntering in as if he thinks he owns the world and feel a splash of loathing. Now that his father is in Azkaban prison, I am under no more obligation to grant him any special favors. He is only in this class because it is the one non-advanced Potions class for sixth years that I teach a week.
The other sixth-year Potions classes are advanced classes and Harry along with Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley are in that one, but to my relief, Draco isn't. So that makes four less days that I have to look at his pointed, conceited face so like Lucius' face that I could puke slugs.
Today day the assignment is to work on the Potion for stopping itches. I look uneasily on as Harry and Neville take their places since they are partners and Draco and Pansy take their places across from them. For a few minutes, the students work quietly, then I hear a hiss of "…you bastard, just stop butting into my business."
"Then stop flinging frog spit into our potion…and stop trying to levitate out Neville's chair," I hear Harry hiss back.
"You idiotic disgrace to wizardkind along with the Weasels and the mudbloods…" Draco snarls. "Mind you, you will be sorry…I'll catch up with your Young Order group really soon and you will pay…"
"Mr. Malfoy, are you done with your potion already?" I ask, deciding that now is a good time to approach.
"No…Potter keeps distracting me," Draco gives me that sickeningly charming smile that he so thinks fools me. Harry ducks back to his desk, his face reddening.
"Instead of complaining about Potter, concentrate on your work, which has hardly been exemplary lately," I tell Draco in a low, but sure tone. Draco's gray eyes widen in shocked, indignant surprise, but I move on, feeling a bit better now that I'm freer to let Malfoy know where he really stands with me.
For the rest of the class, everyone works quietly. Draco stares at me incredulously for a long minute as if he expects me to apologize and go back to coddling him. I stare back stonily. The blond jackass's days of being pampered are over and the sooner he realizes this, the better for all of us.
Class ends and the students leave in a clump. Harry trails slowly behind his friends, his head down once again, his shoulders slumped as if in defeat. Something about the way he's been carrying himself lately brings an unexpected twinge in my stomach.
I let my breath out, shove the twinge down in my subconscious memory and erase some leftover potions notes on the board and head to my office.
There's a floo message from Professor Tonks. I summon her back, as classes are over for the day and we both have time to talk. We discuss the upcoming Order meeting among other things.
Of all the Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers, Nymphadora Tonks has been the one DADA teacher that I've managed to have a civil relationship with; she's different from the previous dunderminds that have preceded her. She actually teaches the students effective spells for blocking unfriendly and dark spells rather than just putting on battle-of-incantation contests and pompous wand-waving displays.
"I do hope the Ministry officials don't back us into using our students as fodder in this war," Tonks tells me as we discuss the Young Order. Harry is the Head of the Young Order and I do admit that they've done an excellent job in keeping Hogwarts safe from outside evil forces and assisting the Main Order in their mission to capture as many death eaters as possible.
"So do I, Nymph," I say. "I hope when the time comes…our students will be ready and strong enough to face the final battle against Voldemort."
"I'm especially worried about Harry," Nymphadora tells me. "I think he's been traumatized by the events of last year what with losing his godfather and Umbridge's tyranny. Let's not forget how he shattered so badly that he had to spend two days in the hospital wing under heavy sedation. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey did wonders to prevent him from having a complete breakdown. He seemed to be doing all right at the start of this year, but I see he's downcast again…I wonder if it's clinical depression."
"I've noticed too," I nod. Nymph knows a smattering of what's happened between Harry and me over these past few years. "Mr. Malfoy's making matters worse; he hasn't changed a bit since his father's been imprisoned. The rotten part is that I watch him bully Potter and I often would like to spill out what I know about Lucius' debts to the entire class just to shut him up."
"It's very much like what went about between you and James Potter, isn't it?" Nymph asks softly. I hesitate a minute, not knowing what to say. She knows about the pensieve incident last year and the rivalry I had with James Potter and what an arrogant ass he was.
"Severus…" Nymph continues. "It's good that you're finally seeing that James son is not a duplicate of James. I suspect you see James' son…Harry and it mirrors some of what you went through in your youth…the depression and the being bullied. I see it now and understand it."
"Do you?" I say warily. So many people claim they understand what someone's going through, but really don't. "I don't think you do…but I see what you're saying."
"All right, maybe I don't understand it all exactly," Nymph amended. "But I can see where seeing the drama with Harry and Draco hits close to you."
I nod, knowing that as usual, she's right. I also had suffered from depression as a teen and thinking about it now, seeing Harry suffer from the terrible despondency brings back unwelcome memories for me.
Also, hearing Nymphadora say this bring back an additional memory of that time…I was in my sixth year and feeling so awful that I wanted to just die…go to sleep and never wake up. Thinking about Harry's sad eyes reminds me of another person…Harry's eyes resemble hers.
Nymph and I move on to talk about other things, including the new house elves that are training and the swell improvement in their lot as well as a bit more on the war and our Main Order plans for capturing the rest of the death eaters. Then we disconnect.
I sit slowly, watching the fire and against my will, my mind wanders back to when I was a miserable, acne-wracked, greasy teenager from a poverty-stricken environment downtrodden under bullies like the Marauder clique and Lucius Malfoy, who'd had his own little clique.
It was around April of year 6 and I'd just wanted it all to end. I'd gotten up and wandered over to the astronomy tower after waking up as I'd often done late at night. It had been cold and windy, which matched my mood then. I'd sat at the window, opening it all the way, not caring about the chill.
I then had gotten the idea that if I jumped the hundred or so meters down, I wouldn't be suffering anymore. The Marauders would have to find someone else to bully. By then, Lucius had graduated, but I was stuck in the same year as the Marauders.
There were other things wrong in my life…a poverty-ridden home…no parents. The only parent I'd known was my mum, who'd been dear when she was sober, but when she was drunk, she was either out cold or in another world. Mum had finally died when I was fourteen and I'd had to go live with distant cousins, who had ten others crammed in that tiny squalid house. I was just another mouth to feed to them.
I just wanted this wretched existence of mine to end. I then headed up to the top of the tower, ready to jump. Footfalls had sounded behind me, but I didn't look back.
"You don't want to jump," someone had said behind me. Startled, I'd turned to see Lily Evans behind me. She had been a quiet, introverted girl with a handful of friends, but never commanded a lot of attention.
"Oh, don't I?" I'd snapped.
"No…" she'd said, coming closer, her long, straight, rather messy red hair blowing in the wind. Her large, serious, pine green eyes gazed intently at me. I'd then remembered her as the girl who'd once stood up to the Marauders last year when they'd levitated me upside down. I'd been more mortified than I already was and had ordered her to get lost. She had…at least for a while.
"Don't come any closer," I warned her, leaning ominously out the window. "I really will fall out if you do." A flicker of fear fluttered in her eyes, but she'd quickly subdued it.
"I guess I'd fall out after you," she'd said quietly.
"And the both of us die there on the pavement in front of the school?" I'd let out a bitter snort. "I'd rather end my life alone, thank you graciously. Now get out of my business."
"Looks like I'm already in your business," She'd pulled out her wand. "See, I can't just stand by and let someone die…if you go out of that window, I'd feel obligated to come out after you and slow our fall."
I'd then realized that she'd come up to the window with her wand trained on me and was next to me. She'd gently wheedled me closer to the inside windowsill and we sat a minute.
"Another thing…" Lily had continued. "If you do away with yourself, your rivals will have won."
"The Marauders' silly antics are the least of my troubles," I'd sniped.
"Maybe not…" Lily had conceded. "But they're some, aren't they?" When I didn't respond, she'd continued. "I understand, I see what you've been going through."
"I don't think you do, Lily," I'd retorted back then…just as I'd said today.
"All right, maybe not fully…" Lily had amended just as Tonks had done today. "But I feel for you…Potter and his little cronies have made life hell for several of us, not just you." I'd known about the rivalry then between her and James. Those two had hated each other with a passion for a long time until year seven.
"If I go now, will you get down off this sill?" Lily had asked. Reluctantly, I'd nodded and we started to stand…which had been a mistake because I'd lost my balance and fallen out. With a scared cry, Lily had run back in, grabbed a broom lying in by the wall and had flown out after me. She'd used the slow-fall spell, then just before we'd hit the ground, she'd pulled me onto the broom.
We'd landed by a tree with a noisy thud. Both of us had been shaken out of our wits. I think it was nearly the closest thing to death that either of us had been, notwithstanding Lily's battle with a dragon in our first year, then she and her two closest friends fighting a Slytherin family member, Voldemort's great uncle to be exact, who was attempting to take over Hogwarts.
A teacher had seen us and at first started to dress us down for being outside at this "unMerlinlike" hour of the night, but had seen how shaken we were and had taken us to the hospital wing to make sure we weren't injured. Other than a few bruises, Lily and I had been fine.
Even though Lily and I had never been close friends and never really known each other well, I was grateful somehow to her for saving my then-pathetic life. Sitting back in my seat by the fireplace now, I reflect over her eyes…large, almond-shaped, and serious. Like Harry's, I remembered. Perhaps that's why seeing Harry's eyes now, especially now that he's been so sad lately, brings back a pang in me.
I guess I'll never understand why Lily befriended James later and the two of them fell and love and got married but that's where Harry came from and he'd inherited his large, serious eyes from his late mum.
The rest of the pieces are slowly falling into place like a wizpuzzle where randomly shaped pieces come together with a mind game…Harry inherited not only his mother's eyes, but also much of his mum's personality.
I had conditioned myself to believe that Harry would be like James in personality simple because of the physical resemblance that had brought back unpleasant memories for me that I had never considered that Lily played a vital role in shaping a different person from his father.
I sit for a long minute and feel tears brimming in my eyes, mulling over where my life has been going. I duck my head, closing my eyes instinctively just as I had fought back tears as a youth. I inadvertently open my eyes briefly and blink and that makes a few tears spill over. I sit for a while, a quiet storm brewing inside of me, my head still down.
Once I feel calmer and oddly, more at peace than I have in a long time, I look up and see that the sky outside has grown dark and the November wind is picking up. I pick up my folder with student papers and grade them until dinner.
As I go through them, I think maybe I am closer to the solution of how to deal with Draco and Harry. It'll be easier now that Lucius Malfoy is in prison and cannot browbeat me again. As for Harry, I will watch for any signs of his depression worsening or indications of suicidal behavior, which I hope will not be the case.
If I do one good thing in
this wretched life of mine, it will be to make sure the Young Order and
Main Order succeeds in this mission to restore freedom and good to all
of wizard and witchkind. That alone will make the years of acne-ridden
teens, being bullied, the brush with death eaters and these Merlin-forsaken
years teaching Potions worth it. Silently, I give Lily the thanks
that I never gave her when she was alive for sparing my life.
Storyline Copyright 2004 by CNJ
