A/N: Aha, I have found my muse! (For how long I don't know -) So here's
another chapter. "13R wheezes as she shovels mud." Now I think this
chapter will finally clear the murkiness a tad!
Or will it? ;-)
Only teasing! I think -
Thanks for your reviews!
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The sound of the hall cupboard slamming shut awoke Snape from a light doze in the living room armchair. He cocked his head toward the door, and listened bemusedly to the banging and crashing going on in the hallway. It sounded like someone was trying to move something about, and making one hell of an unnecessary noise about it. Probably Potter, or his inept looking whiny sop of a cousin, thought Snape, a curl twisting his lip.
But it wasn't a teenager at all. Snape whipped his wand out as the door was flung open, allowing a huge pile of clothes and an ironing board to explode into the living room, followed by a rather evil looking Petunia Dursley.
After dumping the overflowing basket on the floor and sulkily slamming down the legs of the ironing board, she stormed across to the man glowering at her from the armchair. "So, nothing needs explaining now, does it?" she snapped. "It's all quite clear - and I can't say I'm surprised!"
"Pardon?" Snape growled, putting on what was intended to be a threatening expression for the indignant looking woman standing over him. How dare she, a Muggle, speak to him in such a manner! Well, he could certainly see where Potter got his insolence from!
Petunia narrowed her eyes. Wizard or not she couldn't care less anymore; she had had quite enough of men the past few months - men, men, men - whining, complaining, snivelling, dribbling sneering - lolling about her home like drunkards in a dosshouse. Oh - she was sick of their whinging on about how their lives were so difficult. And she knew wizard men, above all had it even easier! Let them try raising two impossible teenage boys, paying bills, shopping and running a house, as well as going to work!
Well, Vernon managed to slip the net - but she would see this one especially was not going to get away with it -
"You!" she shrilled. "You DARE to show your face? Let everybody else do all your donkey work, before coming back when the job's nearly over. Oh, just like a typical man, take the easy way out, too damned lazy to face up to your responsibilities! Well I'll tell you one thing, you have a lot of explaining to do Rus Snape!"
Despite his surprise at being addressed in such a way, the cruel sneer which was so commonly seen on the Professor's face barely wavered. "So you remembered my name after our very brief acquaintance? And it was such a long time ago too? Oh, I am touched."
"Well," she snorted cruelly. "It would hardly be difficult to forget YOUR name, especially when it has such a face to accompany it!"
"Well thank you, Petunia," intoned Snape coolly. "Still riled up about the Spadefoot, I see?"
Petunia pressed her lips together in a pale line, a sign that she was very close to snapping point. "And pray tell me, what this has got to do with some immature old prank?"
Snape blinked before allowing his face to fall into the most innocent expression it could. "Well, what else could it possibly be?"
The damage had been done. Snape had grown far too complacent with insults, being used to most people either fearing him, or avoiding him - and he didn't see the Evans' Stinger until it was too late.
SLAP!
Ooh, that smarted. Too stunned to even think about defending himself, the wizard sat blinking through watery eyes as the tempest raged around him.
"How dare you sit here acting the sweet and innocent!" Petunia shrieked, her horsy teeth bared in a fearsome fury. "Having the cheek to break into my home, sit around in my chairs dictating like some disgusting lord! Tell me, do you want some breakfast with that slap - as I'm quite happy to throw that at you as well!"
Snape stiffened, managing to recover some of his anger, as he watched his assailant snatch up the iron from atop the washing, and bash it down onto the board, before ramming its plug into the wall. He allowed her to iron half a shirt (Using far more force than was necessary) before he uttered a comment.
"You dare to strike me like that?" he hissed. "Are you mad, woman?"
"You'll wish I was after this!" she retorted. "And a slap is the least I can do - the only reason I haven't strangled you is because I want my compensation for my years of suffering! And I have already phoned Mr Woodson, my solicitor about it, so don't think you're getting off scot free!"
The brooding wizard scowled. "I fail to see what you mean by suffering."
Petunia flung the ironed shirt over a chair before whirling around to face him with a look of suppressed triumph. "You owe me sixteen years of maintenance, and hex me or not with your freakish spells, I will stop at nothing to get it!"
"Maintenance? Of what?"
Petunia became maddened as she watched the baffled expression spread over Snape's face. "Don't tell me they haven't got such a thing in your freak world, because I won't believe it for a minute! I have had it with lies, with magic, with everything. And that scroll's the final straw - you can creep back and tell that crackpot Dumbledore I'm not doing anything more for him. I wash my hands of the boy as from now on!"
Snape's expression cleared. He smirked mockingly. "Ah, so this is what it is all about! Potter!"
"Potter?" exclaimed Petunia, with a sneer holding the iron threateningly in mid air. "Potter? Why should it be Potter? The awful man my sister married herself to? No - I knew her, I knew my sister better than anyone! I kept her secrets, watched your lot turn her freakish, but underneath she was still the same silly schoolgirl I had to bail out again and again!" She snorted contemptuously, flinging another shirt onto the board. "And now I can clearly see where that impossible boy gets his attitude problem from!"
"Well, she was impossible, but I'm not sure I agree she had an attitude problem," muttered Snape.
Petunia looked up, her expression showing she could hardly believe what she was hearing. "I didn't mean my sister - I meant you, you stupid man!!" she shrilled loudly. "The entire summer long after fifth year I had to endure her mooching about the house, taking some silly little moving picture about with her, telling her older sister all her sufferings. "Ooh, he's so cruel to me, I can't believe he can say that - but I don't care, I can love him just the same! He's so clever, and he has such amazing eyes! Oh, Rus Snape!"
Petunia resumed her ironing, a bitter, mocking smile twisting her face. "I thought I'd got it through to her by the end of the Summer not to get mixed up with the likes of you," she muttered quietly. "But then we both went back to school - and my poor sister went crawling back to you again to be abused, no doubt. But by next year it was yet another freak, a rich one this time - mum and dad were so pleased. It was, "Oh, James did this - Oh James said that!" But as soon as this Potter came round to visit, they would fall out - and as soon as he went home sulking, that little photo of you would come out again." Petunia snorted. "Well you know what they say about first loves!"
Snape was too stunned to speak. Or rather too afraid to do so, lest his voice would give away his surprise - if his face being a deathly white mask didn't betray his emotions clearly enough.
Lily Evans had had a crush on him?
But Petunia was far from finished. Her pale eyes shone with anger, as she once again pursed her lips into a thin line. "So - it seems you have finally decided to face up to your responsibilities for once instead of wimping and whining about like the typical man? Letting everyone believe Potter was his father, and not having the guts to tell my sister - and THEN dumping your kid on us? Well, don't expect to be welcome here after the court case has finished! You can take your useless son - providing I get my money!" she snapped. "And - AND - "
Snape watched dumbly as Petunia began to dig about in the ironing basket, dragging out clothes in a whirl of temper. Once she had sorted a small pile out, she scooped it up and flung it at the immobile wizard with an enraged shriek.
"AND - seeing as you're here to claim him, you can start by claiming his ironing!"
****************************************************
"Harry!" whined Dudley up at the loft hatch. "Harry, get my shit from your teech!" "When I've finished this shoe box!" Dudley could barely make out the faint reply, obviously Harry had moved to the far end of the loft to search there.
"But you said that five minutes ago! There are bloody loads of shoe boxes up there!"
Dudley's last complaint was met with silence. All sounds of rummaging had stopped.
"Harry? You found it yet?"
"Harry?"
"Shit."
Dudley stood on tiptoe in a vain attempt to look through the hatch. "What?"
No reply.
"What Harry? Stop freaking me out - I wanna know!"
"Nutty and Rus."
"Nutty and Rus?" sneered Dudley. "Is that all you're going to say? What's that supposed to bloody mean?"
Harry's pale face suddenly appeared in the hatchway. With a trembling hand he dropped a small piece of card down into the bedroom. "Look," he croaked. "This must be my - father."
Dudley's stubby fingers picked the piece of card from the floor. It had writing on the back, but he was more interested in the front - where there was a picture.
This was the picture he remembered, all right - this bloke that Harry scowled like. He flipped the photo over to read the writing on the back.
"Nutty and Rus, my Slytherin boys. Hogwarts' fifth year."
Furrowing his brow in confusion, Dudley turned the photo over again.
"What does it mean by boys?" he exclaimed. "I can only see one - Agh!"
Yelping, Dudley dropped the photo as if he'd been stung and backed away, staring in horror. "He moved! I fucking swear he moved!"
Harry sighed as he began to lower the loft ladder. "Course he moved, Dudley. It's a wizard photo! Pass it me will you?"
Dudley's face turned sour. "No way - I ain't picking that freaky thing up!
As he climbed down the ladder Harry kept his eyes fixed on the photo, which had landed face up. He wanted to see who this other boy was - if he ever decided to show his face.
********************************************************
Petunia was so fed up of men that morning she couldn't even bear to be in the same room with one anymore. And so the door slammed for the umpteenth time that morning, leaving the wizard all alone in the living room.
Under the pile of ironing, Snape was still in shock. How was he going to explain to Petunia that it wasn't him, couldn't be him? He had taken the pepper-up potion, hadn't he? He had been drunk that night, but the potion had cleared it.
He, Severus Snape, had been as good as sober on that night sixteen years ago. He wasn't Potter's father - his damned swine of a brother was!
Snape blinked. How come he didn't notice Lily in year five? Was it because he had been too depressed to notice her? Probably - there had been some days when he didn't even care if it was day or night. She had sat opposite on his table in potions that year. But he never, ever for one moment, suspected she fancied him!
She had gone out with Dignus in the Autumn term, yes, but did she ever think of Dignus's younger brother? She must have - why Petunia had said she'd even got a picture of him somewhere!
Snape snarled. Why couldn't his life be easy?
But his mocking little inner voice was there to answer this, as it had been since damned Occlumency with damned Potter.
"Because you didn't make it easy, and still don't. Because you are happy being the horrible bastard you are."
Snape threw the washing down and stood, feeling the frustrated rage welling up inside him. It was going to say it any minute; he couldn't stop it.
"She was better off with Potter. She chose right."
"But she's dead!" he howled to the empty room. "How can that be better off?"
"Well," returned the voice mockingly. "You're still alive - and is that such a good thing?"
Snape's face contorted. "Yes," he snarled, baring his yellowed teeth. "Yes, it is!"
Silently daring the voice to even contemplate a reply to his outburst, he whipped round in a flurry of temper and drew his wand on the first thing he saw, which happened to be the TV set.
KABOOM!
*******************************************************
Harry sat down on the floor and picked up the photo to cradle it. He could see that this was more like the boy he saw in his reflection - thank Merlin!
Harry watched as the boy smirked back, before warily glancing all around him. Was he waiting for the other named person to appear?
But just as the boy looked the other way, a black object hurtled out from the side of the photo and barrelled into him. It was another boy! Harry watched aghast as the two snarled and spat, throwing several punches, before leaping back and drawing their wands, sneering at one another.
Now he was standing still, Harry could get a closer look at the second boy. (Well, as close as his blurring eyes would allow.)
Like the other, he was tall and skinny, but he was decidedly less pleasant looking - and much less clean.
Harry quivered as the enormity of realisation hit him. The other boy was unmistakably Snape. The same sneer, the same look of anger. The same duelling stance!
But the horrible thing which really made Harry's stomach churn - Snape looked so similar to the other boy - it would be incredible if they weren't related.
Or will it? ;-)
Only teasing! I think -
Thanks for your reviews!
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The sound of the hall cupboard slamming shut awoke Snape from a light doze in the living room armchair. He cocked his head toward the door, and listened bemusedly to the banging and crashing going on in the hallway. It sounded like someone was trying to move something about, and making one hell of an unnecessary noise about it. Probably Potter, or his inept looking whiny sop of a cousin, thought Snape, a curl twisting his lip.
But it wasn't a teenager at all. Snape whipped his wand out as the door was flung open, allowing a huge pile of clothes and an ironing board to explode into the living room, followed by a rather evil looking Petunia Dursley.
After dumping the overflowing basket on the floor and sulkily slamming down the legs of the ironing board, she stormed across to the man glowering at her from the armchair. "So, nothing needs explaining now, does it?" she snapped. "It's all quite clear - and I can't say I'm surprised!"
"Pardon?" Snape growled, putting on what was intended to be a threatening expression for the indignant looking woman standing over him. How dare she, a Muggle, speak to him in such a manner! Well, he could certainly see where Potter got his insolence from!
Petunia narrowed her eyes. Wizard or not she couldn't care less anymore; she had had quite enough of men the past few months - men, men, men - whining, complaining, snivelling, dribbling sneering - lolling about her home like drunkards in a dosshouse. Oh - she was sick of their whinging on about how their lives were so difficult. And she knew wizard men, above all had it even easier! Let them try raising two impossible teenage boys, paying bills, shopping and running a house, as well as going to work!
Well, Vernon managed to slip the net - but she would see this one especially was not going to get away with it -
"You!" she shrilled. "You DARE to show your face? Let everybody else do all your donkey work, before coming back when the job's nearly over. Oh, just like a typical man, take the easy way out, too damned lazy to face up to your responsibilities! Well I'll tell you one thing, you have a lot of explaining to do Rus Snape!"
Despite his surprise at being addressed in such a way, the cruel sneer which was so commonly seen on the Professor's face barely wavered. "So you remembered my name after our very brief acquaintance? And it was such a long time ago too? Oh, I am touched."
"Well," she snorted cruelly. "It would hardly be difficult to forget YOUR name, especially when it has such a face to accompany it!"
"Well thank you, Petunia," intoned Snape coolly. "Still riled up about the Spadefoot, I see?"
Petunia pressed her lips together in a pale line, a sign that she was very close to snapping point. "And pray tell me, what this has got to do with some immature old prank?"
Snape blinked before allowing his face to fall into the most innocent expression it could. "Well, what else could it possibly be?"
The damage had been done. Snape had grown far too complacent with insults, being used to most people either fearing him, or avoiding him - and he didn't see the Evans' Stinger until it was too late.
SLAP!
Ooh, that smarted. Too stunned to even think about defending himself, the wizard sat blinking through watery eyes as the tempest raged around him.
"How dare you sit here acting the sweet and innocent!" Petunia shrieked, her horsy teeth bared in a fearsome fury. "Having the cheek to break into my home, sit around in my chairs dictating like some disgusting lord! Tell me, do you want some breakfast with that slap - as I'm quite happy to throw that at you as well!"
Snape stiffened, managing to recover some of his anger, as he watched his assailant snatch up the iron from atop the washing, and bash it down onto the board, before ramming its plug into the wall. He allowed her to iron half a shirt (Using far more force than was necessary) before he uttered a comment.
"You dare to strike me like that?" he hissed. "Are you mad, woman?"
"You'll wish I was after this!" she retorted. "And a slap is the least I can do - the only reason I haven't strangled you is because I want my compensation for my years of suffering! And I have already phoned Mr Woodson, my solicitor about it, so don't think you're getting off scot free!"
The brooding wizard scowled. "I fail to see what you mean by suffering."
Petunia flung the ironed shirt over a chair before whirling around to face him with a look of suppressed triumph. "You owe me sixteen years of maintenance, and hex me or not with your freakish spells, I will stop at nothing to get it!"
"Maintenance? Of what?"
Petunia became maddened as she watched the baffled expression spread over Snape's face. "Don't tell me they haven't got such a thing in your freak world, because I won't believe it for a minute! I have had it with lies, with magic, with everything. And that scroll's the final straw - you can creep back and tell that crackpot Dumbledore I'm not doing anything more for him. I wash my hands of the boy as from now on!"
Snape's expression cleared. He smirked mockingly. "Ah, so this is what it is all about! Potter!"
"Potter?" exclaimed Petunia, with a sneer holding the iron threateningly in mid air. "Potter? Why should it be Potter? The awful man my sister married herself to? No - I knew her, I knew my sister better than anyone! I kept her secrets, watched your lot turn her freakish, but underneath she was still the same silly schoolgirl I had to bail out again and again!" She snorted contemptuously, flinging another shirt onto the board. "And now I can clearly see where that impossible boy gets his attitude problem from!"
"Well, she was impossible, but I'm not sure I agree she had an attitude problem," muttered Snape.
Petunia looked up, her expression showing she could hardly believe what she was hearing. "I didn't mean my sister - I meant you, you stupid man!!" she shrilled loudly. "The entire summer long after fifth year I had to endure her mooching about the house, taking some silly little moving picture about with her, telling her older sister all her sufferings. "Ooh, he's so cruel to me, I can't believe he can say that - but I don't care, I can love him just the same! He's so clever, and he has such amazing eyes! Oh, Rus Snape!"
Petunia resumed her ironing, a bitter, mocking smile twisting her face. "I thought I'd got it through to her by the end of the Summer not to get mixed up with the likes of you," she muttered quietly. "But then we both went back to school - and my poor sister went crawling back to you again to be abused, no doubt. But by next year it was yet another freak, a rich one this time - mum and dad were so pleased. It was, "Oh, James did this - Oh James said that!" But as soon as this Potter came round to visit, they would fall out - and as soon as he went home sulking, that little photo of you would come out again." Petunia snorted. "Well you know what they say about first loves!"
Snape was too stunned to speak. Or rather too afraid to do so, lest his voice would give away his surprise - if his face being a deathly white mask didn't betray his emotions clearly enough.
Lily Evans had had a crush on him?
But Petunia was far from finished. Her pale eyes shone with anger, as she once again pursed her lips into a thin line. "So - it seems you have finally decided to face up to your responsibilities for once instead of wimping and whining about like the typical man? Letting everyone believe Potter was his father, and not having the guts to tell my sister - and THEN dumping your kid on us? Well, don't expect to be welcome here after the court case has finished! You can take your useless son - providing I get my money!" she snapped. "And - AND - "
Snape watched dumbly as Petunia began to dig about in the ironing basket, dragging out clothes in a whirl of temper. Once she had sorted a small pile out, she scooped it up and flung it at the immobile wizard with an enraged shriek.
"AND - seeing as you're here to claim him, you can start by claiming his ironing!"
****************************************************
"Harry!" whined Dudley up at the loft hatch. "Harry, get my shit from your teech!" "When I've finished this shoe box!" Dudley could barely make out the faint reply, obviously Harry had moved to the far end of the loft to search there.
"But you said that five minutes ago! There are bloody loads of shoe boxes up there!"
Dudley's last complaint was met with silence. All sounds of rummaging had stopped.
"Harry? You found it yet?"
"Harry?"
"Shit."
Dudley stood on tiptoe in a vain attempt to look through the hatch. "What?"
No reply.
"What Harry? Stop freaking me out - I wanna know!"
"Nutty and Rus."
"Nutty and Rus?" sneered Dudley. "Is that all you're going to say? What's that supposed to bloody mean?"
Harry's pale face suddenly appeared in the hatchway. With a trembling hand he dropped a small piece of card down into the bedroom. "Look," he croaked. "This must be my - father."
Dudley's stubby fingers picked the piece of card from the floor. It had writing on the back, but he was more interested in the front - where there was a picture.
This was the picture he remembered, all right - this bloke that Harry scowled like. He flipped the photo over to read the writing on the back.
"Nutty and Rus, my Slytherin boys. Hogwarts' fifth year."
Furrowing his brow in confusion, Dudley turned the photo over again.
"What does it mean by boys?" he exclaimed. "I can only see one - Agh!"
Yelping, Dudley dropped the photo as if he'd been stung and backed away, staring in horror. "He moved! I fucking swear he moved!"
Harry sighed as he began to lower the loft ladder. "Course he moved, Dudley. It's a wizard photo! Pass it me will you?"
Dudley's face turned sour. "No way - I ain't picking that freaky thing up!
As he climbed down the ladder Harry kept his eyes fixed on the photo, which had landed face up. He wanted to see who this other boy was - if he ever decided to show his face.
********************************************************
Petunia was so fed up of men that morning she couldn't even bear to be in the same room with one anymore. And so the door slammed for the umpteenth time that morning, leaving the wizard all alone in the living room.
Under the pile of ironing, Snape was still in shock. How was he going to explain to Petunia that it wasn't him, couldn't be him? He had taken the pepper-up potion, hadn't he? He had been drunk that night, but the potion had cleared it.
He, Severus Snape, had been as good as sober on that night sixteen years ago. He wasn't Potter's father - his damned swine of a brother was!
Snape blinked. How come he didn't notice Lily in year five? Was it because he had been too depressed to notice her? Probably - there had been some days when he didn't even care if it was day or night. She had sat opposite on his table in potions that year. But he never, ever for one moment, suspected she fancied him!
She had gone out with Dignus in the Autumn term, yes, but did she ever think of Dignus's younger brother? She must have - why Petunia had said she'd even got a picture of him somewhere!
Snape snarled. Why couldn't his life be easy?
But his mocking little inner voice was there to answer this, as it had been since damned Occlumency with damned Potter.
"Because you didn't make it easy, and still don't. Because you are happy being the horrible bastard you are."
Snape threw the washing down and stood, feeling the frustrated rage welling up inside him. It was going to say it any minute; he couldn't stop it.
"She was better off with Potter. She chose right."
"But she's dead!" he howled to the empty room. "How can that be better off?"
"Well," returned the voice mockingly. "You're still alive - and is that such a good thing?"
Snape's face contorted. "Yes," he snarled, baring his yellowed teeth. "Yes, it is!"
Silently daring the voice to even contemplate a reply to his outburst, he whipped round in a flurry of temper and drew his wand on the first thing he saw, which happened to be the TV set.
KABOOM!
*******************************************************
Harry sat down on the floor and picked up the photo to cradle it. He could see that this was more like the boy he saw in his reflection - thank Merlin!
Harry watched as the boy smirked back, before warily glancing all around him. Was he waiting for the other named person to appear?
But just as the boy looked the other way, a black object hurtled out from the side of the photo and barrelled into him. It was another boy! Harry watched aghast as the two snarled and spat, throwing several punches, before leaping back and drawing their wands, sneering at one another.
Now he was standing still, Harry could get a closer look at the second boy. (Well, as close as his blurring eyes would allow.)
Like the other, he was tall and skinny, but he was decidedly less pleasant looking - and much less clean.
Harry quivered as the enormity of realisation hit him. The other boy was unmistakably Snape. The same sneer, the same look of anger. The same duelling stance!
But the horrible thing which really made Harry's stomach churn - Snape looked so similar to the other boy - it would be incredible if they weren't related.