Again I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter!!! And I never will! Wait a
tick! I own some calendars, a balloon, a poster and other things like that,
but I will never own copyrights.
I would like to thank all the reviewers I do have.. the few and the proud. ( Oh and I'd like to urge everyone to check out Silver Arrows George/Alicia and Fred stories. They're so freakin' cute and awesome, so if you like something on the normal side. Check em out!
On with Chapter 3
"Yes…but is she guilty?" Dumbledore's usually cheerful expression became stern and rigid.
"She couldn't remember if she did it or not. I don't know if she did." McGonagall cleared her throat and reached for the water pitcher. "Ron Weasley is being questioned by Severus, maybe he will be able to get a clear answer."
{Same interrogation room as in Chapter 2)
"Let's hear it, Weasley," Snape glared down at Ron. As he stared into that freckled face. It reminded him of another face.
{Dreamy flashback sequence begins}
He found himself back in the same potions dungeon that he currently teaches in. Even though it had been well over 20 years the smell of dirt, dust and magic clung to the air in the usual way. The air was still stifled and the light struggle to shine in the thickness of the room.
Of course there was the wonderful James Potter and his gang conjuring their usual brand of mayhem and magic in the back corner.
"Severus…what are you doing?" a redheaded kid asked, poking him smartly in his back with the tip of his wand.
"I bet you hid girly pictures in there." The kid asked, maneuvering himself to the side to the younger Snape. He peered over his shoulder trying to see why he was always huddled over his notebook with his quills. That dusty, torn notebook was Snape's sanctuary. He had no friends, except for those he created in that book. Who would be friends with a greasy, pasty, recluse any ways?
In his notebook, he could weave stories about lands and people where things were a lot different. In this land, he was nothing. He was the object of torture. His tormentor was this kid, Nero Cirrus.
Nero loved hurting Severus. He was one of those people who saw fear and like a lion to pray closes in and won't let go. Nero grabbed the book from Severus' hands and set it a blaze.
It's funny every other day, Nero set it on fire and every other day Snape would put it out with a simple charm, but today Snape had had enough. He just watched it burn.
That night, in the silence of the Slytherin dormitories, he humbly stepped out of the tower's highest window. He took one deep breath. Running of the reasons why he should just jump out the window and let it all go, a noise popped behind him.
"It should be here somewhere.." said the voice from behind him. It was James Potter, but there was no one. "Severus, what are you doing?"
"What do you think?" he looked into the nothingness that was talking to him. No more chitchat, he jumped. Instead of hurling towards the ground below him he was falling like a feather, slowly descending to the earth beneath him.
"Potter, you shouldn't have stopped me!" He called once he was back on his feet up to the tower.
"I know you're a dirty loser who has no friends but you can't just hurl yourself out of a window!" James called back.
"Always the Hero, aren't you, Potter?" Snape called out into the moonlight, but there was no reply.
That was Snape's first and last suicide attempt. From then on, he hated Potter and all redheaded boys. So Harry and the Weasleys were always on his "people to loath" list.
"What happened?" He asked again, detesting every freckle on Ron's face.
"I can't remember." Ron replied. He was determined to give this prick of a teacher as little information as possible.
"Cut the shit, Weasley, did you kill him?" Snape's brow tightened and he crossed his arms.
"No, no. I don't know." Ron was confused. He honestly couldn't relocate the events of that night.
"You had a reason to, didn't you?"
"No." Ron lied. He did have a reason, but he'd be dead before he would let Snape know.
"Hermione Granger…" Snape slowly formed the words, watching for a different expression to appear on Ron's face. "She's more than a friend?"
"No, just a friend,"
"But you want to be more?"
"N.. No."
"Don't lie. You're in love with her,"
"How would you know?"
"Common knowledge," Snape hissed. "You loved her, but she loved him and that drove you mad! You wanted him dead!"
Ron's ears went pink. Ok, this was the truth. He did love her and supposed he always did. Ron never had his own glory, ever. There Ron was in the corridor about to pour out his heart and soul to her and________ came. When ______ came, Hermione's attention gravitated to him, she was enamored with every word that rolled off his tongue, and Ron was nothing.
I would like to thank all the reviewers I do have.. the few and the proud. ( Oh and I'd like to urge everyone to check out Silver Arrows George/Alicia and Fred stories. They're so freakin' cute and awesome, so if you like something on the normal side. Check em out!
On with Chapter 3
"Yes…but is she guilty?" Dumbledore's usually cheerful expression became stern and rigid.
"She couldn't remember if she did it or not. I don't know if she did." McGonagall cleared her throat and reached for the water pitcher. "Ron Weasley is being questioned by Severus, maybe he will be able to get a clear answer."
{Same interrogation room as in Chapter 2)
"Let's hear it, Weasley," Snape glared down at Ron. As he stared into that freckled face. It reminded him of another face.
{Dreamy flashback sequence begins}
He found himself back in the same potions dungeon that he currently teaches in. Even though it had been well over 20 years the smell of dirt, dust and magic clung to the air in the usual way. The air was still stifled and the light struggle to shine in the thickness of the room.
Of course there was the wonderful James Potter and his gang conjuring their usual brand of mayhem and magic in the back corner.
"Severus…what are you doing?" a redheaded kid asked, poking him smartly in his back with the tip of his wand.
"I bet you hid girly pictures in there." The kid asked, maneuvering himself to the side to the younger Snape. He peered over his shoulder trying to see why he was always huddled over his notebook with his quills. That dusty, torn notebook was Snape's sanctuary. He had no friends, except for those he created in that book. Who would be friends with a greasy, pasty, recluse any ways?
In his notebook, he could weave stories about lands and people where things were a lot different. In this land, he was nothing. He was the object of torture. His tormentor was this kid, Nero Cirrus.
Nero loved hurting Severus. He was one of those people who saw fear and like a lion to pray closes in and won't let go. Nero grabbed the book from Severus' hands and set it a blaze.
It's funny every other day, Nero set it on fire and every other day Snape would put it out with a simple charm, but today Snape had had enough. He just watched it burn.
That night, in the silence of the Slytherin dormitories, he humbly stepped out of the tower's highest window. He took one deep breath. Running of the reasons why he should just jump out the window and let it all go, a noise popped behind him.
"It should be here somewhere.." said the voice from behind him. It was James Potter, but there was no one. "Severus, what are you doing?"
"What do you think?" he looked into the nothingness that was talking to him. No more chitchat, he jumped. Instead of hurling towards the ground below him he was falling like a feather, slowly descending to the earth beneath him.
"Potter, you shouldn't have stopped me!" He called once he was back on his feet up to the tower.
"I know you're a dirty loser who has no friends but you can't just hurl yourself out of a window!" James called back.
"Always the Hero, aren't you, Potter?" Snape called out into the moonlight, but there was no reply.
That was Snape's first and last suicide attempt. From then on, he hated Potter and all redheaded boys. So Harry and the Weasleys were always on his "people to loath" list.
"What happened?" He asked again, detesting every freckle on Ron's face.
"I can't remember." Ron replied. He was determined to give this prick of a teacher as little information as possible.
"Cut the shit, Weasley, did you kill him?" Snape's brow tightened and he crossed his arms.
"No, no. I don't know." Ron was confused. He honestly couldn't relocate the events of that night.
"You had a reason to, didn't you?"
"No." Ron lied. He did have a reason, but he'd be dead before he would let Snape know.
"Hermione Granger…" Snape slowly formed the words, watching for a different expression to appear on Ron's face. "She's more than a friend?"
"No, just a friend,"
"But you want to be more?"
"N.. No."
"Don't lie. You're in love with her,"
"How would you know?"
"Common knowledge," Snape hissed. "You loved her, but she loved him and that drove you mad! You wanted him dead!"
Ron's ears went pink. Ok, this was the truth. He did love her and supposed he always did. Ron never had his own glory, ever. There Ron was in the corridor about to pour out his heart and soul to her and________ came. When ______ came, Hermione's attention gravitated to him, she was enamored with every word that rolled off his tongue, and Ron was nothing.