A Death Eater's Musings
By Snaples
Every day I watch these students file into my classroom, and
every day I find another excuse to hate them more than the last;
The cursed Draco Malfoy, who grows more and more into his father's shoes and
finds reasons to surpass his limits of cruelty;
Neville Longbottom, a blubbering child whose face would be more recognizable
pressed up against his grand-mother's apron. It's a credit to his spirit, as
tenuous as it may be, that he does not collapse in tears every instance I
approach him in class;
Hermione Granger, who sets my teeth on edge. How can one child spend such a
grotesque amount of time trapped in a library in an effort to impress her peers?
It will be the fall of her, one day;
Ron Weasley, yet another in a long line of inept Weasley boys who trample over
one another to wrestle a modicum of attention from their ridiculously
kind-hearted parents. No wonder they're such trouble-makers.
Speaking of trouble-makers.
Harry Potter.
The very name tightens my stomach with familiar hatred, and I look sharply at
the class to use the obvious anger that consumes my face. I've always said
hatred was an instrument. Surely, I may not have the most disciplined students
in all of Hogwarts, but in my classroom, they have begun to learn their place.
Children fear me. And it is a well and good thing that they do. No sense in
making them warm to a Death Eater, how ever 'turned' he may be. Unbenownst to
their young and ridiculously fragile minds, they receive an education entirely
removed from the correct and subtle art of potion-making. Not that I would
expect gratitude from these ingrates anyway.
I have learnt to despise these happy little creatures. I've drawn on bitterness
to help my cause. It has been so long since my heart has known warmth that I may
never know the pride Minerva reserves for her students, or the compassion Albus
dishes out like obnoxious lemon drops. But it hardly matters. I've surpassed my
ability to care. When gossip reaches their ear, they will realize their
Professor Snape was and still is a Death Eater. "No wonder!" they'll
cry. "I always knew it," they'll whisper. "All the same, them
Death Eaters," they'll conclude.
And so it should be.
END
