The Lost Soul of a Death Eater
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and I am not making any money, etc, etc.
The walls shown white and there was a table and chair bolted to the ground, both white. In the left hand corner of the room there was a bed neatly folded down as though it had never been slept in.
In the centre of the room stood Severus Snape. Dressed in grey hospital robes his skin looked even more yellow and gaunt. The stub of his left arm hung limp against his side and it was obvious he had lost a lot of weight. The enlarged lightening bolt scar that had been cursed across his face was still there: down across his forehead, along his eyebrow and down through his left eye, blinding him forever on that side.
But it was his right eye that bothered Harry as it looked directly into his own. No glint. No glimmer. No gleam. No glitter. There was nothing left but a perfect circle of black in an orb of white. Severus Snape the sarcastic, grudge holding, head strong, bastard was gone forever.
With no memory Severus did not see Harry, nor did he see James's son. He did not see Lily's eyes or Voldemort's scar. Just a boy with messy hair green eyes and a lightening bolt shaped scar.
Nor did he see a werewolf, an ex-criminal, a muggle born of a pure blood. All Snape saw infront of him was five people who he had never met before, they did not interest nor repel him. The five people were simply in the room at the same moment that he was.
The five people wanted to tell him it was his room But Severus Snape had no grasp any more on what "his" meant, what "ours" was. There was not he or him or his.
If Severus was hungry he ate. If he was thirsty he drank. After standing a while if his legs got tired he say down. If all his body got tired he lay down and closed his eyes. A nurse would take him for a walk once a day, but time had no meaning for Severus any more. While the fresh air helped his body heal, it made no difference to Severus whether he was in the room or in the garden. Severus had no understanding of the concept of safety or comfort or fear or anticipation or love or hate.
Severus shifted his gaze form Harry onto Sirius Black. Sirius flinched under his gaze but Severus did not even blink. He looked at Sirius as if he was concentrating on something else. The was nothing in his gaze that made Harry think he had recognised Sirius for who he was. The man who grew from the stupid boy who had pulled a foolish prank on a greasy haired Slytherin that had pushed the boy towards the Death Eaters.
Tears were streaming down Sirius's face and dripped onto the floor. Sirius clamped his hands into fists as Severus held him in his gaze. Suddenly Sirius launched himself forward and buried his wet face in Snape's shoulder wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug.
"Forgive me."
Severus remain motionless in his arms.
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters and I am not making any money, etc, etc.
The walls shown white and there was a table and chair bolted to the ground, both white. In the left hand corner of the room there was a bed neatly folded down as though it had never been slept in.
In the centre of the room stood Severus Snape. Dressed in grey hospital robes his skin looked even more yellow and gaunt. The stub of his left arm hung limp against his side and it was obvious he had lost a lot of weight. The enlarged lightening bolt scar that had been cursed across his face was still there: down across his forehead, along his eyebrow and down through his left eye, blinding him forever on that side.
But it was his right eye that bothered Harry as it looked directly into his own. No glint. No glimmer. No gleam. No glitter. There was nothing left but a perfect circle of black in an orb of white. Severus Snape the sarcastic, grudge holding, head strong, bastard was gone forever.
With no memory Severus did not see Harry, nor did he see James's son. He did not see Lily's eyes or Voldemort's scar. Just a boy with messy hair green eyes and a lightening bolt shaped scar.
Nor did he see a werewolf, an ex-criminal, a muggle born of a pure blood. All Snape saw infront of him was five people who he had never met before, they did not interest nor repel him. The five people were simply in the room at the same moment that he was.
The five people wanted to tell him it was his room But Severus Snape had no grasp any more on what "his" meant, what "ours" was. There was not he or him or his.
If Severus was hungry he ate. If he was thirsty he drank. After standing a while if his legs got tired he say down. If all his body got tired he lay down and closed his eyes. A nurse would take him for a walk once a day, but time had no meaning for Severus any more. While the fresh air helped his body heal, it made no difference to Severus whether he was in the room or in the garden. Severus had no understanding of the concept of safety or comfort or fear or anticipation or love or hate.
Severus shifted his gaze form Harry onto Sirius Black. Sirius flinched under his gaze but Severus did not even blink. He looked at Sirius as if he was concentrating on something else. The was nothing in his gaze that made Harry think he had recognised Sirius for who he was. The man who grew from the stupid boy who had pulled a foolish prank on a greasy haired Slytherin that had pushed the boy towards the Death Eaters.
Tears were streaming down Sirius's face and dripped onto the floor. Sirius clamped his hands into fists as Severus held him in his gaze. Suddenly Sirius launched himself forward and buried his wet face in Snape's shoulder wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug.
"Forgive me."
Severus remain motionless in his arms.