We never see the pain we cause
Until the moment has passed us by
And it's far too late to dry tears
As inside-
We both die.
************************************************************************
~Chapter Five~
Back in the present the man stared sadly at the barren grave. He almost wished he could put some flowers on it, to make up in some part, for what he'd done. He couldn't though, the act seemed so hypocritical it was an act of desecration, after all, it was his fault there was a grave at all. In more ways than one.
After Malfoy had walked away from him, he'd been determined to go and apologize or something. No one deserved a life like that. Especially when it was neither his fault nor his choice. However, as he had steeled himself to go after the blonde boy, a hand had reached out to grab him.
"How in the world did you get here? You father and I have been worried sick! Honestly, to find you in a place like this." His mother shuddered as her eyes roamed the crumbling buildings lined with the dredges of muggle society. She pulled him into an alley and with a pop they were back at home.
When he had gotten home he had been lectured and grounded. That night he lay in his room thinking about Malfoy. He kept remembering his final angry words. Malfoy had really thought that he'd come to laugh at him. To have so little faith in your fellow men is terribly tragic. And then the bit about a friend. He was right. None of them had ever taken a chance on him. The very first day of school they'd judged him by his name and he had little other strength at that age but to let it shape him.
Now that he really though about it, Malfoy was much stronger than they'd ever suspected. To have lasted so long in an unfamiliar world with no skills, no money, and basically no clue was amazing. Especially after the emotional damage he must have suffered. His parents throwing him to the side like he was nothing and being banished for a crime that he hadn't even committed, that he hadn't even been convicted of; this all would have completely shattered the weak useless snob they all thought he was. There must be a lot about Malfoy no one ever knew, a lot he'd never shown, never been able to show.
Thoughts like these filled his head all night and he got little sleep. The next day he had tried to sneak out, intent on finally admitting the truth and clearing Malfoy's name. He'd been caught though, receiving another lecture and dish duty by hand. Several attempts, several lectures, several chores, and a magically sealed bedroom door later; he finally gave up for the day. He settled himself down on his bed and tried to make up for the sleep he hadn't gotten the night before.
Disturbing images quickly found their way into his dreams. Heart-wrenching images of Cho dead. Bittersweet images of Cho's last kiss. Recurring images of a wand breaking. And guilt laden images of a ragged Malfoy. It was when the image turned into both Cho and Malfoy lying dead that he woke up with a gasp.
He sat down to write a letter, feeling he shouldn't wait. As he sat there though, no words came to him. How does one explain something like this? He finally decided after three hours of staring at a blank sheet of parchment that this was far too complicated and far too important to just mail to somebody.
Several weeks later, he was finally released. The first thing he did was make his way to the Phoenix head quarters where he knew he'd find Dumbledore. As he entered he heard Dumbledore in mid conversation.
"I am very sorry Severus, but I have some terrible news for you."
************************************************************************
A/N: I'm sure everyone already knows what that news is. * cries * I hate bad news, but that's all that Snape ever seems to get. Poor, poor Snape, he has the makings of a tragic hero. Oh, and the poem at the top is mine and someday I will make a vast fortune off of it mwhahahahhaah...not.
Until the moment has passed us by
And it's far too late to dry tears
As inside-
We both die.
************************************************************************
~Chapter Five~
Back in the present the man stared sadly at the barren grave. He almost wished he could put some flowers on it, to make up in some part, for what he'd done. He couldn't though, the act seemed so hypocritical it was an act of desecration, after all, it was his fault there was a grave at all. In more ways than one.
After Malfoy had walked away from him, he'd been determined to go and apologize or something. No one deserved a life like that. Especially when it was neither his fault nor his choice. However, as he had steeled himself to go after the blonde boy, a hand had reached out to grab him.
"How in the world did you get here? You father and I have been worried sick! Honestly, to find you in a place like this." His mother shuddered as her eyes roamed the crumbling buildings lined with the dredges of muggle society. She pulled him into an alley and with a pop they were back at home.
When he had gotten home he had been lectured and grounded. That night he lay in his room thinking about Malfoy. He kept remembering his final angry words. Malfoy had really thought that he'd come to laugh at him. To have so little faith in your fellow men is terribly tragic. And then the bit about a friend. He was right. None of them had ever taken a chance on him. The very first day of school they'd judged him by his name and he had little other strength at that age but to let it shape him.
Now that he really though about it, Malfoy was much stronger than they'd ever suspected. To have lasted so long in an unfamiliar world with no skills, no money, and basically no clue was amazing. Especially after the emotional damage he must have suffered. His parents throwing him to the side like he was nothing and being banished for a crime that he hadn't even committed, that he hadn't even been convicted of; this all would have completely shattered the weak useless snob they all thought he was. There must be a lot about Malfoy no one ever knew, a lot he'd never shown, never been able to show.
Thoughts like these filled his head all night and he got little sleep. The next day he had tried to sneak out, intent on finally admitting the truth and clearing Malfoy's name. He'd been caught though, receiving another lecture and dish duty by hand. Several attempts, several lectures, several chores, and a magically sealed bedroom door later; he finally gave up for the day. He settled himself down on his bed and tried to make up for the sleep he hadn't gotten the night before.
Disturbing images quickly found their way into his dreams. Heart-wrenching images of Cho dead. Bittersweet images of Cho's last kiss. Recurring images of a wand breaking. And guilt laden images of a ragged Malfoy. It was when the image turned into both Cho and Malfoy lying dead that he woke up with a gasp.
He sat down to write a letter, feeling he shouldn't wait. As he sat there though, no words came to him. How does one explain something like this? He finally decided after three hours of staring at a blank sheet of parchment that this was far too complicated and far too important to just mail to somebody.
Several weeks later, he was finally released. The first thing he did was make his way to the Phoenix head quarters where he knew he'd find Dumbledore. As he entered he heard Dumbledore in mid conversation.
"I am very sorry Severus, but I have some terrible news for you."
************************************************************************
A/N: I'm sure everyone already knows what that news is. * cries * I hate bad news, but that's all that Snape ever seems to get. Poor, poor Snape, he has the makings of a tragic hero. Oh, and the poem at the top is mine and someday I will make a vast fortune off of it mwhahahahhaah...not.
