Chapter 7: A History Lesson
I find myself alone in Paget Stanton's kitchen. The men of the house are in Diagon Alley. Paget and I hang out in a comfortable silence while she is preparing lunch. I'm almost dying to ask her about Snape and my mother, if anyone would know, it'd be the woman who's company I'm in at the moment.
"He loved her, didn't he?" I suddenly ask, breaking the silence of the room. It's not so much a question as a blurted-out jumble of words.
It appears she doesn't need any further explanation because the bowl in her hand goes falling to the ground, but she manages to stop it with a levitation charm before it can shatter on the floor.
Once the bowl is back on the counter, she just looks at me. "How'd you —"
I just nervously play with my hands. "I was thinking at the Leaving Feast and it just seemed to come to me. I mean, the way he always calls me 'Potter,' and with what he's doing now — the fact that he told Dumbledore that Voldemort was after my parents helps, too. That's obviously why he's at Hogwarts, he's under Dumbledore's protection there."
"You have really figured things out, haven't you? But you are right, he did love her."
The next question I don't think can be helped. "Do you think she —"
"Loved him back? As a friend, definitely. I'd hope so. They'd known each other before school even started. But sadly, I think that whatever little boy your mother knew is gone. He might be buried down in that blemished soul, but for the most part, he's gone. It took one word to get him there."
I search my brain for what word she might be talking about, and I finally come up with an answer. "Mum was a Muggle-born. He called her a mudblood, didn't he?" I ask her.
"Why are you not a Ravenclaw?" she asks me curiously. She appears to be asking herself just as much as he's asking me.
I scoff. "The hat wanted to put me in Slytherin."
"I know, and I think, that you would've done just as well there. Having Slytherin traits is by no means terrible unless you use those traits for terrible things. I'm sure I don't have to ask you to not shove this in his face. Lord only knows how much of a burden is on that man's shoulders."
There is still one thing I don't understand. "But if he loved her, why would he have gone to the Dark Side?"
"Why does any teenage boy do anything? It's to make himself impressive. It's why James and Snape hated each other: they both wanted her, but where James was brash in the pursuit, Severus — how ironic his name really is now that I think about it — was very, very insecure. I'm sure you can guess why."
I have — or had — the same problem. "He's from a broken home. This is so messed up."
"Is it really, though? Don't misunderstand me, his feelings were true and pure, but you know how these things go. You and Andrew had a similar start."
"So what you said about Aaric, about his trying to — he knew that it would eventually —"
Paget just sighs. "Destroy their relationship. Yes. Always a romantic, my husband."
"How do you know all of this?" I ask her.
"Well, Lily told me parts of it and, like you, I gathered more from observations. I was also there when he called her that foul name. The funny thing is, though it's not really funny, that I didn't see her with a real boyfriend until James 7th year."
This throws me for a loop. "Are you saying that she could've been waiting for him?"
"I'm saying that if Severus hadn't been drawn to such people and left the Dark Arts alone, things could have been very different."
I continue my thoughts from the leaving feast Fourth Year. Does this change anything? Not really, because Snape chose to go Dark. If he truly loved my mother, he wouldn't have done so. But I guess Snape's bitter personality got the best of him. So is that why he hated Sirius? Had he believed that Sirius betrayed Lily to Voldemort? Did he hate Sirius just because he was friends with my father? Is that why he hates me, because he could've been my father?
"Shannon, don't do that to yourself," Paget tells me, obviously knowing where my thoughts are going.
I shake my head as if to clear the thoughts out of it. "It was easy for me to guess that Snape and my Dad didn't get on, but before now the reason was never clear to me. I mean, the harassment they endured at each other's hands was obvious, but them and my mother…"
"She was a popular girl, our Lily. Everyone was fond of her. How's your head?"
"Internally combusting," I reply, rubbing my hands on my face.
