I'm Drunk On Lace (And Afraid of Rain)
Chapter Two: An Act of Kindness_______
I will forever mark that day – the day that I woke up thoroughly hung over in a pool of my own vomit; the day that I mistook the wretched Gryffindor Head of House for my faithful black cat, Snowball; the day that I stumbled through the halls of Hogwarts carrying the stale stench of alcohol on my robes; the day that Hogwarts was granted custody of the spawn of that bloody bastard James Potter; the day that I had it all up (once again) on one of the headmaster's plants – as a day of great realization.
I was weary of my life. Nothing went my way. Nothing would ever go my way.
James Potter was dead; and though that wasn't necessarily something I celebrated, I can't deny that I had not felt some sort of spiteful satisfaction that day: when Voldemort was taken out of power, when the tormentor of my childhood was murdered, when I was finally free. This, however, did not mean that I owed anything to Harry Potter. No, I will never owe anything to Harry Potter.
Except for that bloody Wizard's Debt.
Bloody fucking Merlin, bloody well take your own fucking staff and-"Severus?"
"What?" I snapped, perfectly content with my knelt position on the floor.
Professor Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, looking purposefully past me and to the flowerpot where a startling amount of my stomach contents had appeared. I blushed, as I was sheepish, and cleaned my mess up with a wave of my wand.
"Should I send you to the hospital wing, Severus?" he asked, his tone laced with knowing. "Perhaps Poppy could find out what ails you?" I grumbled a series of unnecessary and unmentionable swears beneath my breath. "What was that?"
"No, Headmaster. I think it's only a twenty four hour bug," I lied, although lying was pointless.
"Excellent." He clapped his hands together, looking delighted to a nearly obnoxious degree.
"Excellent?" I groaned, knowing something awful was to come.
"Yes, Severus. Excellent," he smiled and rested an aged hand on my shoulder. "You, my boy, can lead Harry on his very first tour of Hogwarts."
No, I was wrong. It was worse than awful. It was Harry Potter.
I briefly averted my eyes from the headmaster to steal a glance at the small boy on the couch. He had been peering at me curiously over the armrest of the sofa, but when I turned my attention to him, he ducked quickly and fearfully out of my sight.
This small act of trepidation enticed me. I could taste his uneasiness as clearly as I could taste the twice-regurgitated firewhiskey on my tongue. It was what I longed for- the ability to intimidate.
Well, the ability to intimidate without having to 'slice and dice' Muggles. I'll admit that was a mistake.
"Harry." Dumbledore turned to the boy, a kind smile on his face. "Would you like Severus to show you around?"
And when Harry Potter looked at me again, I found it within reason to sneak a malicious smile behind the headmaster's back. The child's huge green eyes grew even bigger, his little jaw dropped open, and he huddled close to the couch and out of my sight.
"Oh come now, Harry, he won't hurt you," the old man said soothingly, before turning to me and only a hint more harshly asking, "will he, Severus?"
I shook my head, grinning innocently. Of course I wouldn't hurt him. I, Severus Snape, am above hurting small children. Maybe, just maybe, I'd jokingly shove him into a boggart-ridden closet…or even, playfully, dangle him by his feet from the Astronomy Tower, but never hurt him.
"I'm sure we'll have just loads of fun, Professor," I gushed, smirking at his bemused expression. "Me and this little…tyke will see you at dinner." I held out my hand to Harry Potter. "Come on, then, little one. Let me show you the magical school that is-," I gave an appropriate pause, "Hogwarts."
He shakily took my extended hand, allowing me to pull him to his feet. I could feel his fear – in his shaky hand, in his inaudible whimpers. He was so very scared.
_______
The Astronomy Tower was the first trip. I desperately wanted to hang him out of the window. I was eager to hear him scream. Merlin, I'm sick.
However, on the trek up, I became most disconcerted by the boy's silence. He didn't talk, he didn't cry, he didn't do any of those childish things. He just looked at me with huge bruised eyes, knowing I was going to do something absolutely dreadful to him. The very worst part was that he didn't demand a reason, which significantly took away from my excitement.
"What's wrong with you?" I snapped.
He jerked his hand out of mine, and backed away slightly. "P-Pardon?"
If possible, his voice was smaller than his stature. I raised an eyebrow.
"Why aren't you saying anything?" I tried again impatiently, snatching his hand back up in my own.
"I…I d-didn't think you w-wanted me to," he stammered. I sighed and continued upwards, only halting when he finally asked a question. "Am I your punishment?"
How insightful.
"What makes you say that?" I asked.
"P'fessor Dumdore…" he horribly butchered the headmaster's name, "…said that you were naughty last night and…" He stopped abruptly and I realized that I was glowering rather hideously.
"Go on," I growled.
"…H-he said that you didn't go to your classes."
The headmaster had told the child about my ineptness? How absolutely foul of him!
"He told you this?" I seethed. The boy looked to the ground. "He didn't tell you this," I stated. "How'd you know?"
"He told the cat about it right in front of me. I couldn't help but hear!" he said defensively.
"The…cat?" I asked, my anger momentarily replaced by puzzlement. "Oh. McGonagall." I rolled my eyes. "Yes, well, I suppose you are my punishment."
"I'm sorry," the boy apologized. "I'm a lot of people's punishments. Uncle Vernon said so."
I didn't reply. I didn't really know how to reply. It's not like he was the only one. I was a lot of people's punishments, too. Just because I wasn't four years old and had two black eyes…well, that didn't mean he was any less of a sad case than I was. He didn't wake up in a pool of his own vomit. When that kid puked in one of the headmaster's flowerpots, he'd have the right to talk.
"This is the Astronomy Tower," I said dully. I pointed to the window. "I was going to dangle you by your ankles out of that window, but now you've just gone and ruined it for me."
Something about the boy lit up at that moment: his eyes brightened, his hand grew tighter around mine. Another thing inside of me dimmed considerably. I had made a mistake. I had shown Harry Potter an act of kindness by not doing something dreadful to him.
Bloody fucking Merlin, bloody well take your own fucking staff and-_______
Author's Notes: Sorry, I had the urge. The next time I update, it will be I'm Sure You'll Contract My Disease. I promise. A note to a random, spamming reviewer who anonymously signed as "Borg": of course it's unoriginal. It's meant to be. Thank you for your insight. That will be all.