Walking In My Shoes
Just an attempt at a good ol' fashioned one-shot angsty Snape's-Past songfic … Depeche Mode's "Walking in my Shoes."
I don't own Harry Potter …or Depeche Mode … or …well, much of anything, really…
R&R me! I'm not planning to continue this, but hey, maybe I'll find another cool song and write chapter 2.
[I'd tell you about the things they put me through]
"I only need his tongue and his brain. You can have the rest."
[The pain I've been subjected to]
"What did I say, Malakar? We don't have use for him if he's insane!"
[But the Lord himself would blush]
"Obey me in this. It's important to our cause."
[The countless feasts laid at my feet
Forbidden fruits for me to eat
But I think your pulse would start to rush]"Crucio!"
The wooden floor tilted up and caught Severus Snape with a strength that made a white light flash in the back of his head. Something warm and wet trickled into his hair, to mix with the tears and leave red trails across the dark floorboards as he moved.
He shifted as carefully as he could onto his side and pushed himself to a sitting position. It was difficult, because his wrists were tied to the opposite elbow behind his back.
They waited until he was on his knees before kicking him to the ground again.
[Now I'm not looking for absolution,
Forgiveness for the things I do
But before you come to any conclusions
Try walking in my shoes]
Severus lay on the ground, gasping desperately for air while his lungs filled up with blood. Somebody pushed him to his side. He felt the blood well up in his throat, and he coughed.
"Are you going to talk, Severus? Are you going to tell me what you know, or is Malakar going to have to hit it out of you?"
He couldn't find the will to answer.
"I don't think he's going to tell me. Malakar, interrogate him some more, would you? A little more wand-work, I'd say."
"Incendio!""Oh, Severus. If you don't so much as scream, I'm afraid it's only going to get worse. Veritaserum may not work on a Master who may have built up an immunity to it, but we can certainly try other potions and …other techniques."
[Try walking in my shoes
You'd stumble in my footsteps
Keep the same appointments I kept
If you tried walking in my shoes]
"He's a Potions Master. That's of a level with a musician and artist. Break his hands, and you break the man."
"Sir, Albus Dumbledore is here to see you!"
"All right, all right. Keep an eye on the traitor."
[Try walking in my shoes.]
"No need to worry for the traitor's welfare, Albus. We're only questioning him, after all."
"When Aurors question former Death Eaters, I think I have great cause to worry."
"He's a traitor, Albus! A killer! He bathes in the blood of the innocent for thrills! You need constant vigilance in dealing with these sorts!"
"Not Severus, Alastor. Never Severus. He had no choice."
"He had a choice, all right. And he should have chosen death."
It's all my fault, Albus told himself again. I'm the one who asked him to join Voldemort as an agent. I should be in there.
[Brevity would frown upon
Decency look down upon
The scapegoat fate's made of me
But I promise now, my judge and jurors
My intentions couldn't have been purer
My case is easy to see]
"Did you get what you needed, Alastor?"
"He didn't have the information we were looking for. He's feeling a bit dispirited, but once he finds out that his old Headmaster kept him out of Azkaban … You had better keep an eye on him, Albus. If I hear of him doing anything illegal, you'll be the one in there next.""No need to worry about it. I've got a job at Hogwarts on hold for him."
"Good. He'll probably not be much use to the Potions community anymore …he, ah, got a bit violent and we had to …subdue him."
Albus clenched his teeth and walked toward Severus, who was being escorted out of the Ministry building by three armed Aurors.
[I'm not looking for a clearer conscience
Peace of mind after what I've been through
And before we talk of any repentance
Try walking in my shoes]"H-Headmaster?" Severus Snape, ashen-faced and too thin, looked at Albus Dumbledore with eyes that were far too used to being afraid. He had obviously been washed and scrubbed; his hair was wet and looked as if he had run his fingers through it. His skin was clean, though he was still wearing his torn and blood stained laboratory robes. He had fresh cuts on his face, and his eyes were bloodshot. Inadequate white bandages were wrapped up each forearm and over both hands, though the thumbs and fingers were left out. His wrists and metacarpi were broken, then; they ignored his fingers. He would still be able to do what he loved, as long as he saw Madam Pomfrey soon to get real care.
Albus felt his eyes sting at the sight of his recently graduated student. He pulled the disoriented man into a tight embrace, rubbing his back. He quietly apparated them to a field near Hogwarts.
Severus stood numbly, silent, his blank eyes not quite registering his release from the Ministry.
"Oh, child. What in the world did they do to you in there?"
Severus started, as if just realizing he was being touched, and jerked away from Albus, falling to his knees. Albus sat down next to him, careful not to touch him again.
The Potions Master blinked slowly, noticing the ground. He was sitting in soft green grass, wildflowers dappling the scene. A tear ran down his pale cheek.
Albus embraced the young –too young-- man again, both of them weeping silently.
"I'm sorry, Severus. I'm so sorry for asking you to join Voldemort."
"I'm not sure which side's worse, Albus."
"Both sides have their faults, Severus. The secret is doing what's right, even if it's on your own. There are no rules against a third side."