Welcome back!
In order to decide a few critical things for this story, it would be great if you, my awesome readers and reviewers, could share your opinions on a few issues:
1. Do you think there is ANY chance at all that Snape will eventually (by the time Harry's generation arrives at Hogwarts) make peace with all that James and Sirius did to him?
2. Of all the bullying flashback scenes from Chapters 4 and 5, which one did you think was the cruelest or most traumatic, and why?
3. Do you think James and Sirius' reformation was too quick to be convincing? Would it be more realistic if they did have occasional relapses back to their bullying ways in the remainder of their time at Hogwarts?
Chapter 9:
James Potter tossed and turned in his sleep, tormented by a very strange and disturbing dream.
He was sitting in the soft grass, reclining comfortably against his favorite beech tree. One exam left to go. His hazel eyes pored over page after page of notes, while his ears desperately tried to tune out the chattering voices that surrounded him on all sides. No amount of noise could distract James Potter from his studies, but the ebullient voices of his fellow students irked him in a different way. They reminded him painfully of his own lack of friends. Nobody wanted to hang out with Potty. Everyone hated that pathetic James Potter with his greasy hair, secondhand robes, and comically abysmal Quidditch skills.
James was so immersed in his studying, he failed to notice a foreboding presence lurking over his shoulder… until it was too late.
"Expelliarmus!" A loud, arrogant voice interrupted his contemplations. James' wand flew into the air and landed twelve feet away. The beleaguered teen breathed heavily as he looked up to behold his attackers. Snape was marching forward with his goons in tow.
Severus Snape, his expression flush with all the confidence of a Quidditch star, twisted his handsome face into a sneer. "Why hello, Potty. What are you doing all by yourself a nice day like this?"
Before James could respond, Snape flicked his wand, and James was hanging upside down in the air. His robes fell over his head to reveal skinny, pallid legs and a pair of underpants that hadn't been washed in a month.
A crowd of students had gathered to watch. Tears of devastation clouded James' eyes as a group of giggling girls pointed at his exposed underwear. "Why aren't you wearing any pants, Potty?" Snape taunted, raising his wand to lift James higher and higher into the air. "Did you wet yourself again? Is it true that your parents have to go hungry for a week in order to buy you fresh knickers?"
"Let me down, you bloody bastard!" James screamed. He kicked and thrashed desperately, struggling in vain to free himself.
"Who wants to see me take off Potty's knickers?" Snape sang derisively. The crowd roared in approval.
"Come on Sev, give the greasy bastard what he deserves!"
"I'll bet five Galleons that Potty still wears diapers!"
"Hey Sev, why don't you tickle him till he craps himself?"
"That can be swiftly arranged," Snape retorted smoothly. "Diffindo!"
James' moldy, graying underwear split open at the seams, and fell lifelessly to the ground. His buttocks and privates were completely exposed to over a hundred pairs of hungry eyes. Snape spun James around in slow, deliberate circles, making sure that everyone could see everything. Making sure his paralyzed victim could not keep a single ounce of what little dignity he still had. James' face contorted into an ugly grimace as tears streamed down his cheeks and soaked into his already dirty and matted hair. He felt so vulnerable and worthless, and wanted to end his life.
"Aww, Potty's crying! Look at him blubber!"
The crowd exploded with laughter. Students rolled around in the grass, shrieking uncontrollably, choking on tears of mirth that streamed down their cheeks. The same group of girls doubled over, laughing themselves silly, pointing at various parts of James' exposed body. Snape's face was filled with triumph as he blew kisses to the crowd.
The worst was yet to come. "Who wants to see me beat the shit out of Potty?" The crowd screamed in delight, as if watching a particularly exciting Quidditch match.
Snape giggled maniacally and leaned in to whisper in James' ear. "When I said I was going to beat the shit out of you, I meant it quite literally." With great flourish, Snape reached into his bag to retrieve a curved, yellowish object roughly two feet long and as thick as a man's arm.
James' eyes widened in terror. "That's a basilisk fang!" he squeaked. "Where on earth did you get it?"
Snape spun the basilisk fang around in a most pretentious manner, with all the agility of a star Seeker. He spoke in a slow, arrogant drawl. "Nicked it from Slughorn's private stores. You'd be surprised at how much you could get away with, if you were someone who was actually important." Pure savagery glistened in Snape's eyes as he tapped the basilisk fang against various parts of James' exposed buttocks, deciding where to land the first blow.
"Please, Severus!" James voice devolved into a high-pitched whine, all his pride surrendered. "Please, anything but that! I beg you!"
"You gotta beg harder than that, Potty!" Snape drew back his arm and lashed his weapon viciously across the vulnerable, exposed flesh. "Take that, you little crybaby! And that!"
James threw back his head and screamed uncontrollably as every ounce of his body was consumed in white-hot, searing agony. His throat was raw from screaming Snape's name, begging him to stop. But Snape showed no mercy. Volley after volley of taunts continued to fire from his lips, as Snape swung even harder, tearing away huge chunks of flesh and shredding his buttocks to mincemeat. The basilisk venom was doing its job as well, as a putrid black pus began slithering down James' leg. The crowd continued to chant, "Beat his arse! Beat his arse! Beat his arse!"
"If only your precious Lily could see you now!" Snape cackled. "Why would Lily want a greasy, slimy, no-good git like you, when she could be with me?"
"NOOOOOOOO! LEAVE ME ALONE!" James bolted upright in bed, drenched in cold sweat and shaking with terror. But he was not the only one. To his left, Sirius was raving incoherently as well.
Remus was instantly clambering out of bed and racing to their sides. "Padfoot! Prongs! What happened?"
"SNAPE! GET AWAY FROM ME!"
Remus grabbed his hands. "Prongs, look at me!" But all James could do was draw a deep, shuddering breath and vomit all over the sheets.
"I'll get help!" Peter's terrified voice squeaked from the darkness. The small, mousy boy could be heard scurrying down the stairs.
Moments later, a tall figure in a tartan gown was hurrying up the spiral staircase, faintly discernible in the moonlight. "Boys? What's going on up here?"
"SNAPE!" James screamed. "I'll kill you!"
"Potter? What is all this nonsense?" Professor McGonagall demanded. "Didn't I warn you not to have any further contact with Mr. Snape?"
"Bloody hell, Snape! Don't… take… leave me… stop…give back… my knickers…" James continued to rave incoherently. He lashed out blindly, his flailing fist missing Peter's face by inches.
Professor McGonagall could not hold back an ironic smile as comprehension dawned on her. It all made sense now. Stitching together the seemingly nonsensical bits and pieces of James' rant, a cohesive picture took form. With a simple flick of her wand, James calmed down and sanity returned to his eyes.
"It appears from your dream, Mr. Potter, that you possess more awareness and empathy than you are willing to act on."
James blinked several times. "That was a dream?"
Professor McGonagall conjured a chair and sat down across from James. "How does it feel to be impaled upon your own sword?"
"Terrible," James' hand involuntarily wandered behind his back, plucking repeatedly at the elastic waistband to confirm that his pants had not been removed. "I've never had a dream like that before, it was so real…"
"You are very lucky it was only a dream for you," Professor McGonagall confirmed grimly. "Everything you felt and saw in that dream was very real to Severus Snape. Now imagine having one of these episodes every day for five years."
"Bloody hell…" James mumbled. He shrunk away from her piercing gaze, wanting to disappear. The fear had been so overwhelming. He wanted to die from the overwhelming humiliation of being so vulnerable and exposed… from the incapacitating heartache that no one cared to feel his pain. Hundreds of fellow students had stood laughing at his suffering. No one spoke on his behalf. What right did he have to demand respect? He was nothing but a no-good, greasy git who deserved everything he got, simply because he existed. James drew a shuddering breath and dropped his head in shame. "Bloody hell…"
"Language, Potter," McGonagall chided. "Foul language won't get you in serious trouble, but you and Mr. Black have done enough to have gotten expelled ten times already. If either of you is caught bullying Severus Snape one more time, we will have no other choice."
A few hours earlier…
The clock chimed twelve, and beams of moonlight bathed Hogwarts Castle in a silvery glow. Aside from the soft rustling of wind in the trees and the occasional hooting of an unseen owl, all was silent. There were no footsteps racing up and down the corridors. There was no fragrance of food wafting out from the Great Hall. There was no rambunctious chattering of students celebrating the end of the term, and releasing their pent-up energy in a binge of borderline illegal festivities. The only sign of activity was in a remote corner of the library. Beneath the dim candlelight, a greasy-haired teenage boy was packing up his books and stuffing a Potions essay into his bag.
Severus Snape arched his back and stretched both arms, soothing his cramped muscles and aching joints. He furiously massaged his aching, ink-stained fingers. Congratulating himself on a job well done, he rose to his feet and exited the library
The castle was so peaceful at night. The inky blackness was strangely soothing and comforting. Lost in his own thoughts, away from the crowds, away from the antics of his stupid schoolmates, was where Severus felt most in his element.
As Snape passed through one darkened hallway after another, the sweet air of freedom flooded his nostrils. He felt so at peace. Only in the tranquility of solitude could the lonely Slytherin disappear into the recesses of his mind, away from the giggling, gossiping idiots who congested the corridors on a daily basis.
Severus had nearly reached the dungeons, when a hand sprung out of a darkened corridor and grabbed him roughly around the upper arm. The boy's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Years of relentless bullying had honed his self-defense instincts to near-perfection. He whipped out his wand and prepared to strike at the unseen assailant, the latest in a long line of people who had bullied and assaulted him over the years.
"Wand down, Snape, before you take someone's eye out," a familiar voice growled. As the voice registered in his memory, Severus lowered his wand. A lantern flickered, and the faces of Evan Rosier and Theodore Nott came into view. The dim orange glow cast an eerie shadow over their faces, giving the duo a demonic likeness.
"What do you want?" Snape hissed.
"The better question is, Half-Blood, what the hell are you doing sneaking about the corridors at night?" Rosier growled.
"I was in the library," Snape responded tartly. He gestured towards the bag slung over his opposite shoulder, "Finishing my Potions essay."
"Yeah? You and who else?" Nott demanded. "Was that Lily Evans Mudblood with you?"
"No!" Snape clenched his fist around the hem of his robe to prevent himself from throwing a punch at the belligerent Slytherins. How dare they talk about his precious Lily like that? "Why do you care, anyways?"
Rosier crossed his arms. "Well Snape, excuse me for saying so, but I have reason to question whether you are truly one of us. For starters, we don't recall seeing you at the Junior Death Eaters meeting two weeks ago."
"I was in the Hospital Wing," Snape grumbled. His honestly was instantly confirmed as the boys began ascending the spiral staircase leading to the Slytherin Common Room. As Snape hoisted himself onto the first step, a vibrating sensation shot up his leg and exploded in his left buttock in successive blasts of agony. His face contorted and he fell to his knees, incapacitated.
"Oh right, you were getting your arse amputated. Valid excuse." Rosier let out a loud, derisive chuckle. "How do you expect to be a soldier for the Dark Lord, if you can't even keep your knickers on?"
"It wasn't my fault!" Snape snarled. His face was turning white and both eyes began to water with pain. "They had me four against one!"
"You also missed the meeting for the Society of Pureblood Supremacy last week," Rosier continued. "What's your excuse for that?"
As they reached the top of the staircase, Snape could hardly breathe through his gasps of pain. Thankfully, he was spared from giving a response, when Nott cut in. "The point is, Snape, you have not shown the degree of commitment necessary to be part of such an important movement. We have emphasized again and again: This is war. Our way of life is under attack. If you aren't with us, you're against us."
"That's right," Rosier agreed. "Our ancestors gave life and limb to conquer the bottomless depths of magic, in the face of terrible adversity, and secure a future in which their children could study magic in peace. But some people have so little respect for their hard work and sacrifice, they'd throw our inheritance to those who haven't earned it.
"Exactly," Nott replied smoothly. "Idiots like Dumbledore think that Mudbloods and Half-Breeds have the right to partake in our world, when they've done nothing to help build it."
Snape was hardly listening by the time the three Slytherins had reached the door to the Common Room. All his energy was focused on how he was going to climb through the portrait hole. Potter's assault had done irreversible damage to the structural integrity of his upper leg and pelvic muscles. Tendons and ligaments had been ripped loose. His gait was permanently deformed by hundreds of microscopic fractures in his hipbone. Severus could hardly lift his left knee halfway to waist-level.
It took him nearly five minutes to drag himself through the portrait hole, and collapse on the emerald green carpet. Unfortunately, Rosier and Nott were still talking, and Mulciber had now joined them.
"—You let scum like Mary MacDonald into our community, and see what a pigsty it'll become in a few years."
"Yeah," Snape responded mechanically. "Anyways, I'm tired and my arse is killing me. I'm going to bed." Before anyone could further question his commitment to the Death Eater cause, Snape collapsed on his bed and pulled the curtains shut.
As the lights flickered out and his dormmates all fell silent, Snape buried his face into his pillow and cursed his rotten luck. Indeed, he was surrounded by enemies. Hostile Gryffindors hunted him by day, and hostile Slytherins hunted him by night. If Bellatrix Black found out about his promise to Lily, about his renouncing the Dark Arts… he would rather endure another ten rounds of Potter and Black.
More to come!
