Chapter 1
Dejected Disillusionment
Crying doesn't help, a voice in his head admonished.
Severus sat cross-legged on his bed picking at his nails. It was half past noon on a Sunday that was doing its best to live up to its name. Severus had been startled awake before dawn. His mind had probably thought it was prudent to pull him from the stress induced nightmare causing him to whimper in his sleep.
Although he had woken up that early, he had not left the room. Only getting up once to relieve himself, he actually had not left his bed. The thick sheets he retained despite the heat of the impending summer weather gave him comfort and made him feel safe.
Severus sighed heavily and leaned back until his body hit the headboard. He covered his eyes with one arm. He lay there willing his frayed nerves calm, but in an instant, the scene by the lake replayed in his head. He heard himself say the damned word and watched as Lily's expression changed from shock to anger. Guilt wrapped itself around his throat while embarrassment churned the acid in his stomach and twisted his intestines. His face burned. He groaned and resisted the urge to curl in on himself.
He sobbed dryly.
Think of kittens.
A rustling at the door alerted him to the presence of another. He inhaled a shuddering breath in an effort to steady himself.
"Go away," he ground out. He was in no mood for either sympathy or congratulations. Severus was by no stretch of imagination a popular person. Despite his apparent aptitude for most of his classes, he was something of a non-entity to the teachers. To most of the student body, he was the unkempt strange one whose dark stare would turn you into stone if you caught his eyes - or something to that end as stated by Sirius Black.
Before the... incident... he was irrelevant - simply another weirdo, another sheep in a flock of hundreds. Of course, he was tormented by Potter and his merry band of misfits on a daily basis, but never was the attention focused on him. Severus was the no-name. Potter hexed many - Slytherins - and the gushing crowd applauded. What did it matter to them if the tormented of the day repeated often enough to be considered an obsession?
The offense of spouting a word in rage had earned him a notoriety he was not comfortable with. Simultaneously, he was a lauded and spat upon. Severus was confused, but he was sure that Mulciber was going to find himself with a nasty rash if he did not stop going on about how bloody brilliant it was to call the mudblood a mudblood.
Yes. So brilliant it got me a detention.
Severus listened. He did not hear anything. Then the rustling started again. The rustling turned into shuffling which turned into someone sitting heavily on the edge of his bed.
"Oh, come now," came the disgustingly gentle voice of Regulus Black. "You can't be moping in here all day. It's sunny out and your OWLs are done, aren't they?"
Severus did not say anything. Regulus shook the bed a little and pushed Severus' knee. "We've been playing Red Light, Green Light out by the Quidditch pitch. You can fly right?"
Severus peeked out from under his arm. He scrutinized the younger boy tainting his bed with his perpetually cheerful and possibly smelly person. Dressed in leisure robes, Regulus stared at him with cool blue eyes. His mouth as quirked in what seemed suspiciously like a suppressed laugh.
Severus felt his blood rush to his face as the barely retrained feelings from before bubbled and choked him.
"What is it you find funny here, Black?" Severus managed to turn the statement into a lazy drawl, but inside he was close to breaking down.
"You!"
Severus clenched his jaw and covered his eyes again, determined to shut the nuisance out.
"No. Wait," Regulus added, hurriedly. "I mean... Look at you..."
Severus growled.
"No!" Regulus jumped off the bed. "Look! You're moping in here because of girl."
Regulus rested his head against the bedpost. "And it's pathetic." His normally expressive eyes turned hard. Regulus pulled out his wand and tapped it lazily in the palm of one hand. He stopped suddenly and leaned forward, as if sharing a secret.
"She's just a - "
"SHUT UP!" Severus had sprung up, hand tangled in the neck of Regulus' robes. Regulus's wand landed soundlessly on the plush carpet.
" - girl. A girl!" Regulus choked.
Severus was breathing in harsh angry breaths, dark eyes narrowed and smoldering.
"I just can't bear it - y - you like this..." Silence filled the room like thick smog.
Severus' eyes bored into Regulus, who was strangely enough not trying to wriggle out of the vice grip in which he was held.
The image of an eleven year old Regulus Black floated to the front of his mind. The ecstatic look on the newly-minted Slytherin's face had quickly turned sour following the jeers from his brother and his Gryffindor friends. Severus was not sure, but when a handful of peas was thrown in his direction, the younger Black may have been on the verge of tears.
Relations between the two had not gotten any better since.
He released his grip on Regulus. Severus switched his gaze to a point beyond Regulus.
"I - I know..." began Regulus.
"Just go." Severus cut in.
Regulus stared at him for a moment before nodding. He straightened his robes and rustled to the door. Severus fell back to the bed with an oomph! beginning to contemplate what a horrible person he was. The softly spoken words, "Ready when you are, Snape" floated to Severus' ears.
"Wrong game, idiot," he muttered.
