IV
In which we meet Eileen Prince Snape for the first time, and witness a cry for help, a confession, and a vow
Disappointment.
Oh, yes. Eileen Prince Snape was familiar with this word, disappointment, all right.
She'd been a disappointment all her life. Always had been, always would be. It didn't matter what she did; she would carry that branding for ever.
Eileen laid her head down on the table, feeling the familiar dents and cracks, amassed over the years, reminders of what had been done, what had been hurt and never went away.
She was a Prince; a pure-blood, a girl who belonged to a family of greatness, a family that had standards which she never could quite fit into. She had always been the troubled, mediocre middle child. She could still see her sisters' faces in her mind:
Pretty Daniella, two years older, with her raven-coloured hair and clear blue eyes, giggling as she returned from school in the summertime with her perfect grades and her perfect friends and the perfect way she talked, walked, dressed, lived. Daniella had married an equally perfect, successful husband and lived now in a manor house on the shore of a lake, counting her money and gossiping over tea and biscuits.
Then Rosalind, a year younger, who was delicate and fragile as a dove. Her father's favourite. Rosalind was so sweet and good-natured that she managed to land a job as a Healer at Saint Mungo's only a year after she graduated from Hogwarts. She was the type of woman now who sent out pretty Christmas cards of her two children and husband, baked ginger snaps and lemon tarts on the weekends, and had a lovely garden with a wishing well and a frog pond, bordered with beds of neatly groomed daffodils and irises.
And then there was Eileen. Eileen, who wasn't pretty, wasn't athletic, wasn't incredibly intelligent or talented in any way. Eileen, who ran away from home with the man she thought was her one-way ticket to eternal bliss. Eileen, who was wrong on all counts. Eileen, who was a disappointment.
Eileen sat up, massaging her temples. Why had Fate always dealt her the unlucky hand? She glanced over at her husband, Tobias, passed out on the couch, his sallow body reeking of alcohol and sweat and meanness. She winced when she thought of what might happen when he woke up with a raging headache from the events that had passed the night before.
She looked away from him for a moment, surveying the house. It was small; no, not even small. It was tiny, with a peeling door and cracked concrete steps. The roof leaked in three places (she had to remind herself to empty the plastic beach buckets she'd placed underneath these spots every time it rained) and it was always chilly, due to the fact that they could not afford to heat the house in the winter. The furniture was tired and worn, the carpet stained, and the whitewashed walls had holes where Tobias had slammed his fist into them when he got into a rage.
It made her angry to have to live in such a place, but there was little she could do about it. Tobias worked at the textile mill down the street, and his salary was meagre, just enough to cover their bills and put a bit of food on the table. Sometimes Tobias would cash his cheque before she could intercept it and would blow it all on alcohol and cigarettes.
Those were the weeks where they both got a little thinner than they already were and even more gaunt-looking and irritable.
It would be so much easier if she had her wand. However, shortly after Severus had left for his first year at Hogwarts, Tobias had flown in a temper and had taken her wand from her. She'd spent days searching for it, but she had finally come to the conclusion that Tobias had most likely snapped it in half and thrown it away. She had snuck off to Ollivander's to get a price quoted for a new one, but the cost was just to heavy for her. Besides, she knew very well what would happen if Tobias ever caught her with a brand-new wand.
"Bitch! I told you I want nothing to do with... that lot! You better fucking listen to me or I swear to God, I'll go down to Johnny Renier's, borrow his rifle and blow your goddamn fuckin' head off!"
Eileen got to her feet and collected the empty beer cans that littered the floor and tossed them into the bin. She paused by the knife drawer, contemplating. Casting a quick look over her shoulder at the figure sleeping on the couch, she rummaged in the drawer until she had uncovered the long, sharp Bowie knife, which Tobias had bought to "protect himself" nearly ten years ago and had never actually used.
She picked it up and walked over to Tobias, both cold hands gripping the handle, shaking violently. This could be it, Eileen, she thought to herself. This could all end now.
She brought the knife down, gently grazing Tobias' cheek. He stirred and she stepped back, fear clasping her firmly in its jaws. As she looked closely at Tobias, she bit down on her lip hard. Despite the dark circles under his eyes, the pale skin drawn so tightly over his face that his cheekbones jutted out, the permanent scowl on his lips, the harsh words and even harsher physical pain he'd inflicted upon her, and the fact that more than twelve years had flown by since they'd met; the man he had once been lurked somewhere under the surface. The loving, caring man she'd fallen for so many years ago was still alive and breathing, even if she couldn't readily see him anymore.
She put down the knife and joined him on the couch, trying on a smile for the first time in days. Tobias' eyes snapped open, and he stared at her wordlessly for a moment, dazed.
"Damn it, Eileen," he muttered at last. "Can't you see I'm trying to fuckin' sleep? What the fuck do you want from me now?"
Gritting her teeth at his reply, she tried to shake it off. "Tobias, honey," she said, choosing her words carefully, in order to spin a realistic tale. "My sister's called. Her husband's...er, very ill and she needs me to go take care of her kids."
Tobias frowned. "What's he got?"
"Ah..." Eileen racked her brain for a moment, "She's not quite sure. But he's puking up blood and has an incredibly high fever. Not to mention the fact that he can't feel his legs."
Tobias didn't look impressed. "How long are you going to be gone for?"
"Oh, not very long, dear. Only two days. Maybe three, so she can get back on her feet and all."
Tobias regarded her suspiciously. Eileen almost never called him "honey" or "dear" and she most definitely did not usually go off helping her sisters with their every whim. But he was tired... and her leaving would give him a little peace...
"All right then," he grumbled, closing his eyes again. "I don't really give a fuck about what you do, Eileen. But before you go, get me a cigarette, I feel like shit right now. And you had better be back here in three days, or you'll regret it."
Eileen smiled to herself, and picked up a package of cigarettes resting on the table beside him. She lit one and pressed it into his hand, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Before he could change his mind, she snatched her coat off a chair and flew out the door, slamming it shut behind her.
Diagon Alley, here I come, she thought to herself, grinning madly.
The snowy owl glided through the air, its wings barely moving. It was a beautiful, powerful creature. In its talons it carried a small letter written on parchment in emerald-green ink.
Eileen did not notice the owl's progress. She was rummaging in the mailbox, her fingers icy cold from the wind.
"Electricity bill, water bill, advertisements... where's Tobias' cheque? It should have been here days ago," she muttered to herself, as she started to cram the envelopes, unopened, back into the dented metal box.
"Argh!" The snowy owl landed with a small thump on top of the mailbox, its talons making a terrible scratching noise as they dug into the aluminum. Surprised, Eileen staggered back a step and regarded the owl.
It screeched at her and held out its leg. Her fingers fumbling, she took the envelope from it and dug around in her coat pockets for a Knut or two to give the owl.
She placed a couple of coins into the owl's belt and it took off, flying so high in the air that it was only a white dot in the bright blue sky.
Eileen ripped open the envelope. "Severus had better not have gotten himself into trouble," she said to nobody in particular. "Because I won't stand for it, and Tobias might add a few scars to the ones he's already put on that boy." Her words were stark, and she ought to be ashamed and furious about what her husband had done to her only son, but she wasn't. Tobias' beatings were an event that happened so often it did not shock her anymore.
She unfolded the parchment and read the letter, gripping it tightly as her eyes swallowed up the words.
Dear Mr and Mrs Tobias R. Snape:
In light of recent events, we would like to request a meeting regarding the progress of your son, Severus. We have a few concerns that we would like to share with you. We would also like your input on a course of action that we plan to put into place as soon as possible. Owl us at your earliest convenience with a date and time that are the most accommodating for you. Please note that all meetings must occur after 7 o'clock pm on weekdays and 9 o'clock am on week-ends.
Best wishes,
Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster
Jacqueline Cartier, Head of Slytherin House
Gritting her teeth, Eileen checked her watch, and flipped the letter over, scrawling a short note with a blue ball-point pen.
I'll be there at once.
"Well, Mrs. Snape, it's a pleasure to meet you. I shall send for Professor Cartier, but in the meantime, please do have a seat," Albus Dumbledore gestured to a comfortable-looking mahogany chair on the other side of his desk.
Eileen remained standing, her dark eyes piercing into his blue ones. "What has he done now?" she asked, "He had better not have been expelled, I don't know what Tobias would say if he was..."
"Quite the contrary, Mrs. Snape," assured Dumbledore. "Severus is a bright child, and very eager to learn. He has a great aptitude for Defence Against the Dark Arts and Potions, being at the top of the class for these two courses. He is a model student, very polite and respectful. We are definitely considering him for Prefect next year."
Eileen sagged into the chair. "Then why," she said, "Am I here?"
At that moment, Professor Cartier entered the room, her cheeks tinged with pink. She slammed the door shut behind her, apologizing profusely. "I'll just.. ah, set my bag down here...thank you, Albus... Oh, Mrs. Snape! How nice to meet you! I'm Professor Cartier, Head of Slytherin House and Professor of Care of Magical Creatures."
Eileen nodded in her direction, then turned back to the Headmaster. "If my son is performing so well," she began again, "then why have you called me in for a meeting?"
Professor Jacqueline Cartier was not one to waste time. In a plain, matter-of-fact way, she snapped open the lid of her briefcase and extracted a thick file, labelled Severus Tobias Snape. From that, she fanned out nearly fifty slips of pink-tinted parchment titled Student Accident Reports, laying them out before a startled and confused Eileen Prince Snape.
"Mrs. Snape," she said gravely, "I regret to inform you that your son has been the unfortunate target of extreme bullying over the past four years. Why, the very first of these accident reports is dated only two days after his first day here!"
"Extreme bullying? Extreme bullying? By who? When?" Eileen Snape jumped to her feet and reached over the table, snatching up a handful of pink slips. As she scanned, words began to jump off the page at her: Cracked rib (2); Tongue glued to roof of mouth; Eyesight lost for three (3) hours; Hospital Wing stay, five (5) days; Pushed down flight of stairs, suffered broken wrist, bruises, concussion...
Her heart began to race. Her son was being injured here, too? She had hoped that Severus had been able to escape from the broken, abusive household that still had her trapped. She had hoped that sending him here, where he had a chance at being happy, might make up for the lack of protection she could give him at home.
Again, Eileen had been wrong on all counts. And since she could never argue or fight back with her husband, she would take this opportunity to take out her anger on even more people who had failed her... her, and her son, Severus.
She would fight for her son, at last.
"You allow this?" she raged, straightening to her full height, tossing the pink slips to the floor. "Are you telling me that my son is being harassed at school for four years and you haven't done a single thing until now?"
"Well, Mrs. Snape, we were hoping at first that it was just playful teasing..."
"Playful teasing?" screeched Eileen Snape, bending down to retrieve a pink slip from the floor. She held the parchment dangerously close to Jacqueline Cartier's face and stabbed at the section detailing the incident with one finger. "You honestly think that being humiliated in front of a schoolyard of children is playful teasing? What is wrong with you? This is a school! Isn't this supposed to be a safe place for everyone to learn?"
"Mrs. Snape, we really would appreciate it if you calmed yourself," interjected Albus Dumbledore. "We understand that you're distressed, but..."
Eileen Snape shook her head and interrupted him. "I demand to speak with the parents of these... these animals who are responsible for this!" She glanced at the slips of parchment on the floor again, "This... James Potter and Sirius Black! And Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, Charles O'Leary, Kevin Bones...! And any friends, accomplices, bystanders... all of them! They won't get away with hurting my son like this! I refuse to let it happen!"
"Please, Mrs. Snape," said Professor Cartier meekly. "We only want to share with you what we know, and our action plan for resolving this issue..."
"You can start by telling me why you didn't contact me earlier with this issue, and why this group of four or five boys are able to continually maliciously inflict pain upon my son." Eileen Snape lowered herself into the chair and glared at the two people sitting across the desk from her. "I'd be very interested in hearing the answers to these questions."
"Well, Severus, is there anything you'd like to add?" Albus Dumbledore looked over at him, his blue eyes twinkling. "You've said very little."
Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He'd had to give up a good portion of his Saturday afternoon for this? He knew very well that even if his mother ranted and demanded all the way up to Heaven, and Professor Cartier threw out terms like "guided instruction" and "assertive behaviour" and equipped him with a "Personalized Safety and Security Plan", people would still find a way to harass him.
And even though James Potter and Sirius Black were out of commission, laying on their deathbeds in Saint Mungo's, it seemed like other students had stepped up to the plate to make up for their absence. They'd even begun speculating that the Slytherins had cooked up an elaborate scheme to knock off the Gryffindor's Golden Boys... and who better to pin the blame on than the school's outcast, and coincidentally the boy who had the most to gain from Potter and Black's demise?
Well, it was true that he was responsible for their illness, and ultimately their death, if they did die. If he chose to let them die. He wasn't exactly sure of what he wanted to do... but what he did know was that time was running out.
"Severus?"
Severus snapped out of his reverie and found himself staring into the startlingly blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore.
"Um, no, sir," he mumbled, "I think this is good enough."
The Headmaster raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He got to his feet and shook hands with Severus' mother, and escorted her and Professor Cartier to the door.
Severus was halfway out the door himself when the Headmaster called out to him. "Severus, if you ever need somewhere to go, or someone to speak to, please, don't hesitate to come and see me. I'd be interested in hearing about what you have to say."
Severus gave a quick nod, and closed the door quietly behind him.
As if.
Kill me and be done with it...
James Potter's eyes were glued to the ceiling of his and Sirius' room in Saint Mungo's, unmoving, unblinking. He was at the brink of giving up hope that his condition could be helped; at the brink of believing that this nightmare would ever end.
God, it was awful. His skin was irritated and his blood was boiling inside his veins. He tried to sleep most of the time, but the constant burning sensation kept him awake... he felt like he was on fire, and there was nothing, nothing that could stop it.
I am in so much pain right now...
At the beginning, he figured he'd be in and out of the hospital wing in Hogwarts in a flash; after all, the Invincible James Potter had never had a brush with death before.
Now, he wasn't so sure. He was in immeasurable pain, which could only be soothed by heavy Muggle painkillers and various herbal supplements and lotions. The Healers were doing all they could, and while he appreciated their efforts, he couldn't help but want to scream at them to do more, find some way to soothe the sizzling of his flesh.
He knew that Sirius, who had received the brunt of the potion's splash, already had one foot on the other side. That worried him more than anything. Even though Sirius had assured him that it wasn't his fault, James still felt responsible for both of their suffering.
What would he do without his best friend? If he managed to get through this, and Sirius didn't, how would he live with himself knowing that he had partially caused the death of the boy he considered his own blood brother?
How could he stand to bury his best friend?
Oh, God, let us live. Please let both of us live.
The future was looking pretty damn weak.
How could this have happened? One minute, he was his usual self, playing Quidditch, eating in the Great Hall, going to classes, playing pranks on Snivellus, chasing after Lily Evans... and then, this. Such a difference from this weak, dishevelled, pain-riddled being in a hospital bed.
"Oh, my God," Sirius suddenly rolled over in his bed, clutching at his neck, frantically trying to catch his breath. "I can hardly breathe anymore, Prongs. Oh my God, what are we going to do?"
"Calm down. Inhale, exhale... Inhale, exhale. Good, just like that," James instructed from the next bed, peeling his eyes away from the ceiling and towards his friend. "Just breathe slowly, and through your nose, and it won't be as painful. And for Merlin's sake, don't over-excite yourself."
Sirius nodded and let his hands drop to his sides. His breathing was ragged, but at least he was breathing. James knew that the potion was seeping into his friend's lungs, destroying them one vicious bite at a time.
At that moment, James' mother flung open the door, her husband right behind her. The loud noise of her high heels echoed in the room.
"Oh, my poor darling," Angélique Potter bent down to kiss her son on the forehead, and sat down on the end of his bed. She touched his cheek gently with one hand. "How are you feeling today, Jamie?"
James sighed. "As always, Mum. Tired. Uncomfortably warm." He decided to let her call him Jamie for the day. Usually he hated her treating him like he was six years old again, but as he took her in, he noticed that her face was unusually thin and her makeup was not carefully applied.
Thaddeus Potter, on the other hand, was pacing. "We're going to get you off those pills," he began, "Since they're not helping you any, and from what we've heard, they're highly addictive." He ran his fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair. "I just don't know what to do, boys," he sighed, putting one hand on his wife's shoulder for a brief moment. "We've consulted every Healer, every book, every other source we could possibly think of. We just don't know how to help you. I've said time and time again that money is no object, but it seems that we're hitting dead end after dead end!"
"I'd like to know where that potion came from!" fumed Angélique. "Why anyone would keep something as dangerous as that in a classroom where innocent children could get hurt is a mystery to me!
"We don't blame you, dear," she assured her son, patting his hand and averting her eyes from the red, scaly skin that covered nearly his whole body. "Nor you, Sirius. If it hadn't happened to you, it would have certainly happened to someone else."
"I for one wish it had happened to someone else!" spoke up Thaddeus Potter, who stopped pacing for a moment and glared at nobody in particular, muttering something along the lines of "My son... honestly, I just cannot believe..." As he did, James noted the dark circles around his father's eyes, and the fact that he had not shaved this morning.
"I do agree, darling," said his wife, giving James a kiss on the cheek. "Jamie, sweetheart, your father and I received a letter from the school today, along with your schoolwork and all that. It seems that some woman's been making a lot of noise about how her son's being treated at the school, and she named you and some of your friends as the 'perpetrators!'" She sniffed, as if incredibly insulted.
James rolled his eyes. "We were just playing around with this Snape boy from Slytherin," he explained, patting his mother's hand uncomfortably. "He's... he's... going to be one of them."
Angélique's green eyes widened in horror. "You don't mean he's going Dark?"
"That's exactly it," confirmed Sirius from the next bed. "Ol' Snivelly's just aiming to join up with You-Know-Who."
"Well, then, his mother's in no place to make demands!" interjected Thaddeus. "That whole Dark lot ought to be cleaned out! I shall be sure to make that clear when we have to go meet with them this week!"
"I wouldn't be surprised if his kind was responsible for your illness!" added his wife, standing up in indignation. "That would be just like them, taking out their frustrations on noble wizarding people. Honestly, I don't know what this world is coming to!"
I wouldn't be surprised if his kind was responsible for your illness, James' mother's voice echoed inside his head for a moment. His kind... his kind... responsible...
Could it be? Had a Dark wizard strategically placed dangerous, unheard-of potions around the school, aiming to knock off students who were the sons and daughters of wizards and witches who refused to join the Dark Lord's cause?
No, a tiny, more rational voice in his head spoke up. A Dark wizard would have a hard time getting into Hogwarts, let alone be able to creep around stashing bottles here and there. Secondly, wouldn't they be taking the chance of killing off the children of loyal Death Eaters, and those who aim to join the cause when they grow up?
She's on to something, James decided, as he pretended to listen to what his mother was saying and nodding in all the right places. I just need to take this a step further.
Moony,
I'm very sorry I have not been able to contact you earlier. We've been barred from speaking with anybody, through letters or otherwise. Luckily, I've managed to get my hands on an owl and am taking full advantage of it.
You might not be aware of our condition, but I will keep it short and to the point: while in detention, I came across a mysterious potion behind a stack of papers and books in Fallon's classroom. I showed it to Sirius, and he dropped it when Fallon returned, which resulted in us both being covered in it. Since that day, we have been plagued with burns and high fever, and the potion is already spreading through our blood and slowly damaging our internal organs.
Padfoot and I are not getting any better. None of the Healers' methods have been working on us, and I'm starting to worry that Padfoot will not be able to hold out much longer. His body is starting to give up on him, and I'm sure mine will follow.
We've discussed it at great length, and we need you to keep tabs on all the Death Eater wanna-be's: Snivellus, Mulciber, Avery, Malfoy, and Padfoot's cousins, Narcissa and Bellatrix. We suspect that they have a part in what happened to us... one of them, if not all. We're startinng to worry that they'll come to try to finish us off... or attack someone else. Let Wormtail in on this and keep an eye on them. Follow them and figure out what they're up to. The Cloak's still in my chest...use it, we can't risk them catching on and possibly try to hurt you, too.
Prongs
PS. Tell no one about this plan. If the students haven't been informed about what has happened to Padfoot and I, say nothing and destroy this letter. No reply to us is necessary. We're counting on you, Moony.
Remus' hands were shaking as he finished reading the letter aloud to Peter. He folded the parchment into quarters and glanced up at the smaller boy, whose dark beady eyes were already wide with fear.
"We have to do what he says," Remus said at last. "And fast. If we wait any longer, they might not..." He didn't dare finish his sentence.
Peter nodded wordlessly and pointed at the letter, still clenched tightly in Remus' fist.
"Oh, right," Remus pressed the tip of his wand on the letter, and muttered an incantation. A small spark shot out from his wand and swallowed the parchment easily, leaving little behind.
Remus got to his feet and sprinkled the bits of letter on the ground. He unlocked James' trunk and rummaged through it, eventually extracting his prized Invisibility Cloak, running his fingers over the light-as-air fabric for a moment, and the Marauder's Map.
"Come on," he urged, covering himself with the Cloak and beckoning towards the fear-stricken boy sitting on the bed. "There's not a minute to spare."
Remus and Peter slipped out of the portrait of the Fat Lady and headed down the corridor to Fallon's classroom first. "There might be some evidence in there that the professors missed or didn't look hard enough for when they were searching through it," Remus had whispered to Peter beforehand.
When they arrived in front of the door, they found that it was locked tight. "Try Alohomora," hissed Peter. "The Map says that Professor Ajudah is headed this way."
Remus cast the spell and tugged on the doorknob. To his frustration, the door remained stubbornly shut.
"Remus," Peter urged, "stick your hand back under the Cloak! He's coming."
Remus ignored him and continued to cast spells at the door, acutely aware of the loud footsteps approaching the entrance to the corridor.
"Are you mad?" squeaked Peter, tugging on Remus' arm for a short moment. "We're going to get caught! Hurry up!"
"Relax!" Remus very nearly growled, tugging on the doorknob once more. "I've almost got it!" He raised his wand again. Ignoring his friend's order to relax, Peter grabbed Remus' wrist and forcefully maneuvered his arm so that it was safely under the Cloak again.
Agitated, Remus opened his mouth to say something. Peter thrust the Map under his friend's nose and pointed at the figure marked Aditya Ajudah. They both watched with bated breath as Ajudah scurried down the hallway, pausing in front of Fallon's classroom as if confused for a moment, then continuing on his way.
"There's no way we can get through the door, Remus," Peter muttered when Ajudah had disappeared down a staircase. "They've probably put extra enchantments on it so they can prevent students from wandering in and getting into accidents."
Remus sighed heavily. "Then where do we go from here?"
The two remaining Marauders were silent for a moment.
"What time is it?" Remus asked at last.
Peter rummaged in his pockets, finally extracting a battered bronze pocket-watch. He shook it twice before looking at it. "About half-past eight. So we've got another hour and a half until lights-out."
A smile slowly crept over Remus' face. "That's plenty of time."
"For what?"
"You'll see," said Remus, pulling James' Invisibility Cloak tighter around his shoulders and walking a few steps forward, forcing Peter to follow his lead.
"Oh, no. You're mad, Remus. You're even worse than Sirius," Peter moaned quietly as he and Remus waited anxiously outside the wall that was the entrance to the Slytherin common-room.
Remus rolled his eyes and elbowed Peter hard in the side, signalling for him to be quiet. He knew that trying to slip into the Slytherins' territory was as dangerous as walking voluntarily into the belly of the beast; however, if James' suspicions had been correct, they needed solid evidence if they had any chance of bringing the person who had poisoned his two friends to justice.
And saving James' and Sirius' lives. Before it was too late.
Remus Lupin had always been a follower; the boy who stuck his nose into books and kept out of trouble. He had a way of melting into the background; overshadowed, like Peter, by the charm and talents of his best friends.
But now James and Sirius had passed the torch on to him. They were counting on him, their lives depended on him, in fact.
They had always been there for him; working long hours to master the art of changing themselves into animals so that he, Remus, could stay at Hogwarts without claiming the lives of innocent students. They had given him more than he could have ever offered in return.
And as much as he didn't want to venture into the chilly, dark dungeons below the lake, he knew he had to.
"Well, I've heard from a very reliable source that these incidents were only playful teasing, no harm intended. I'm sure that you yourself understand the natures of young boys, don't you, Mr Dumbledore?"
Eileen Prince Snape fought hard not to roll her eyes at the sheer stupidity of Angélique Potter. The woman obviously had no more brain cells than a common toad. Probably from the harsh chemical effects of the platinum-blonde hair dye she used so religiously.
Thaddeus Potter puffed himself up next to his wife. "We are very good friends with Board of Directors, Mr Dumbledore," he said, putting his hands on the Headmaster's desk, causing the gold coins lining his pockets to jingle together. "And I hardly think that spending so much time and effort on such minor incidents such as boyish taunting is appropriate, considering the fact that my son and his friend are in Saint Mungo's, gravely ill and not responding to any sort of treatment. The Board is demanding answers as to why innocent students were exposed to such a dangerous concoction, and quite frankly, I'm starting to question your judgement as well."
"My son is dying," emphasized Angélique Potter, dabbing at her eyes with a lace-trimmed, monogrammed handkerchief. "How dare you accuse him of wrongdoing when he is not even here to defend himself!" She glared at Eileen, hatred apparent in her emerald-green eyes.
"I have very little sympathy for your son's situation," replied Eileen coolly, not breaking eye contact with Angélique. "And just to be clear, I did not request this meeting with you so you could feel sorry for yourself over what has happened to your son. I called this meeting because your son has made these last four years at Hogwarts miserable for mine. You of course did not bother to read the Student Accident Reports, but the incidents listed are quite severe, and I'd like to put the constant antagonizing and bullying led by your son to rest."
Eileen looked over at Severus and smiled encouragingly at him, squeezing his hand as she did so.
"Surely my son is not the only "perpetrator", as you so delicately put it!" fumed Angélique. Out of the corner of Eileen's eye, she saw Thaddeus pat his wife's hand as if to calm her.
"That's true," spoke up Severus. He took a deep breath. "But he's the one who starts it. I never have any problems with the other students unless James is there to order them to pick on me."
Albus Dumbledore nodded at Severus and spoke slowly, choosing his words very carefully. "I know how strongly you feel that your son is being attacked on all sides," he said to Mr and Mrs Potter, "and we do sympathise with his current condition and are working very efficiently to get to the root of the cause. However, his current behaviour towards Mrs Snape's son is highly inappropriate and mean-spirited. We've also noticed a trend of bullying towards Mr Snape since your son's been at St Mungo's. It appears that several of the other students are under the impression that Mr Snape is responsible for this unknown illness and have set out to "punish him" accordingly." He cleared his throat and looked over at Thaddeus Potter, who was breathing loudly through his nose. "We at Hogwarts believe that a school should be a safe and secure place for all, regardless of social class, race, blood status, et cetera."
"Safe and secure?" roared Thaddeus, pointing a shaking finger at Dumbledore. "My heir, my son, is on his deathbed, because of the negligence here!" He stood up suddenly, knocking his frail wife aside. "And you!"
His eyes bored into Severus's, who in turn squirmed a little in his seat.
"Oh, you'll get what you deserve in the end."
Author's Notes:
This is all of the "old" stuff: I'll be writing more as it comes to me!
Thank you to everybody who reads, I love it! :3
Please review and help me improve this story!
ChiaraMikami